To Be or Not To Be PC
Let’s get one thing straight. I am hilarious. Well at least, I find myself pretty fucking funny sometimes. For the most part, I think other people around me find the shit I say somewhat humorous on occasion. That is until I moved out to Hawaii…
Being a new kid, I didn’t want to offend people right off the bat. So I kept a lot of my less PC (albeit wittier) comments to myself. Gotta toe that line right? After being here for a couple of weeks, I felt a little more comfortable. Big mistake. After trying out a little story that would normally result in some sort of guffaw (or slight smirk) from my friends from back home, I was met with a blank stare.
There are a few possible reasons as to why my little anecedote didn’t go ever so well:
1) I have mastered the art of disguising my sarcasm/satire to the point that other people think I am being real. It’s possible that my satirical tone has morphed to completely mimic my normal speech inflections and tone. My bad. I guess I have to work on being more obvious while still veiling my true meaning.
2)The sarcasm was there, but the person doesn’t get satirical/facetious type of humor. The type of person who likes slapstick over dry humor. The kind of person who thinks The Hangover is God’s gift to comedy.
3) The person understood that I was not being serious, but just didn’t think I was funny. <— (least likely of the options, because as I said before: I am hilarious.)
We are going to go with reason number 2. It’s obviously the other person, and not moi.
With that being said, it’s going to be a long ass year. I really don’t how I am going to survive, if I have to preface every single midget/ginger/ random pop culture whore/wheelie/meth/child slavery etc joke with “I am about to say something I don’t actually believe or endorse. Please don’t think I am being serious”
For your amusement, here is that little interaction that warranted only a blank stare from my new friend:
Picture it: September 2010. The place: TheBus (Hawaii’s public transit name. How dumb is that) after a long day in the sun. There is a sign that says “No shoes or slippaz on the seats. Mahalo” I take a picture and send to my friend in Ohio who will be referred to as “C.” The text conversation went something like this.
Me: Silly Hawaiians, they are called sandals. *
C: Those natives are making up words again? *
Me: Umm they are not called natives anymore. I think we are supposed to call them “Noble Savages.” *
C: They are only “Noble” after they have given us their land and died from European diseases.*
Then I told my new friend about this little conversation between C and me (mainly because I wanted her to know why I was giggling like a 12year old on a Pixie-stick and Mountain Dew diet). My new friend just looked at me with disgust, and said nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. So instead of hanging my head in shame, I tried to salvage the story by using my go-to over-explanation method (a genuine crowd-pleaser to be sure).
Me: You see, it’s funny because I’m an anthropologist. I am supposed to be sympathetic to indigenous people. And my friend has syphilis and a host of other European diseases**…. And it’s more funny now because I am over-explaining the joke, which is never funny under normal circumstances except when you are aware of it and make a conscious effort to be obnoxious about it. See? It’s funny…erm..ok….. I guess you had to be there….
See? Comedy gold! Now this person probably thinks I am some sort of racist- insensitive-asshole-who-doesn’t-know-that-having-to-explain-a-joke-makes-it-less-funny. Fuck.
*Paraphrasing since I no longer have the original text conversation due to a full inbox, but you get the idea
**Not true…. that I know of.
Being a new kid, I didn’t want to offend people right off the bat. So I kept a lot of my less PC (albeit wittier) comments to myself. Gotta toe that line right? After being here for a couple of weeks, I felt a little more comfortable. Big mistake. After trying out a little story that would normally result in some sort of guffaw (or slight smirk) from my friends from back home, I was met with a blank stare.
There are a few possible reasons as to why my little anecedote didn’t go ever so well:
1) I have mastered the art of disguising my sarcasm/satire to the point that other people think I am being real. It’s possible that my satirical tone has morphed to completely mimic my normal speech inflections and tone. My bad. I guess I have to work on being more obvious while still veiling my true meaning.
2)The sarcasm was there, but the person doesn’t get satirical/facetious type of humor. The type of person who likes slapstick over dry humor. The kind of person who thinks The Hangover is God’s gift to comedy.
3) The person understood that I was not being serious, but just didn’t think I was funny. <— (least likely of the options, because as I said before: I am hilarious.)
We are going to go with reason number 2. It’s obviously the other person, and not moi.
With that being said, it’s going to be a long ass year. I really don’t how I am going to survive, if I have to preface every single midget/ginger/ random pop culture whore/wheelie/meth/child slavery etc joke with “I am about to say something I don’t actually believe or endorse. Please don’t think I am being serious”
For your amusement, here is that little interaction that warranted only a blank stare from my new friend:
Picture it: September 2010. The place: TheBus (Hawaii’s public transit name. How dumb is that) after a long day in the sun. There is a sign that says “No shoes or slippaz on the seats. Mahalo” I take a picture and send to my friend in Ohio who will be referred to as “C.” The text conversation went something like this.
Me: Silly Hawaiians, they are called sandals. *
C: Those natives are making up words again? *
Me: Umm they are not called natives anymore. I think we are supposed to call them “Noble Savages.” *
C: They are only “Noble” after they have given us their land and died from European diseases.*
Then I told my new friend about this little conversation between C and me (mainly because I wanted her to know why I was giggling like a 12year old on a Pixie-stick and Mountain Dew diet). My new friend just looked at me with disgust, and said nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. So instead of hanging my head in shame, I tried to salvage the story by using my go-to over-explanation method (
Me: You see, it’s funny because I’m an anthropologist. I am supposed to be sympathetic to indigenous people. And my friend has syphilis and a host of other European diseases**…. And it’s more funny now because I am over-explaining the joke, which is never funny under normal circumstances except when you are aware of it and make a conscious effort to be obnoxious about it. See? It’s funny…erm..ok….. I guess you had to be there….
See? Comedy gold! Now this person probably thinks I am some sort of racist- insensitive-asshole-who-doesn’t-know-that-having-to-explain-a-joke-makes-it-less-funny. Fuck.
*Paraphrasing since I no longer have the original text conversation due to a full inbox, but you get the idea
**Not true…. that I know of.
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