I came back from the gym this afternoon (where I'm trying to build my fitness level back up after a week's convalescence due to an operation...stupid paranoid me is terrified I'll turn into a couch-potato for life just because I've spent - shock horror - nearly a whole week being one due to necessity...but that's another story), grabbed my laptop to read today's paper...and was faced with the news that Amy Winehouse was found dead in her flat; cause of death so far unexplained.
It was horrible news that put me in a grey melancholic mood, even though I obviously didn't know Amy Winehouse and there's no doubt that we wouldn't have been friends if I had. Celebrity deaths are no more important than 'normal people' ones of course; except there's something about the death of someone famous, and especially one who had such amazing talent, because no matter how self-destructive they may be, those charismatic, larger-than-life people aren't supposed to just disintegrate like that. Even more so in this day and age when everything's geared up for the average person on the street to feel as though they know the rich-and-famous on a synthetically intimate level.
But the cause of my 'grey melancholic mood' wasn't just the news of Amy's death; it was also the immediate reaction it spurned in the online community. The online edition of the paper I read has sections under its articles for people to make comments, of which there were numerous; some sympathetic, some wistful and some disgustingly self-righteous...and of course you can't avoid people's reactions on Facebook, Twitter and the like, even if you don't have an account. But I do have a Facebook account, and a quick scan of my 'News Feed' revealed a count of five tasteless jokes about Amy Winehouse, all posted within half an hour of the news of her death having been first reported.
I like to think I have quite a good sense of humour on the whole, but I will admit to not understanding that type of 'black' humour that focuses on a particular somebody's death, and especially if those attempts at humour are being made within moments of that person actually dying. A few years ago, within moments of my hearing about Michael Jackson's death, my mobile phone beeped with three new texts, all from people seemingly desperate to get their jokes out there. I deleted them all immediately; not because I was being pompous (which makes a nice change from usual!), but because I simply find it impossible to glean any humour from somebody who's just died a horrible death, leaving their friends and family distraught.
Now I've just read that back and it does sound a little bit pompous, doesn't it? But it's true - I don't understand the mentality of people who can find things like that funny. It really is alien behaviour to me. And as such I find it fascinating, particularly as there's increasingly so much of it due to the aforementioned Facebook and Twitter phenomena. Perhaps due to that, it has also become creepingly acceptable to openly laugh at it.
One of the best examples I can provide regarding the blanket 'acceptability' of this type of humour is the screening of Frankie Boyle's 'Tramadol Nights', a bit of which I watched just to see what the fuss was all about. The episode I saw switched to a standup section in which Frankie made a joke about the deceased Jade Goody that made me feel physically sick, prompting me to change the channel immediately with a shaking hand and a heavy heart that anybody would ever laugh at something like that. And yet a lot of people I know, like and respect are fans of that show, and of that type of joke. So does that mean that deep down they're not very nice people, or just that they don't get attached to jokes about people they don't know and therefore can see the humour in them - and by that token - life in general? If that is the case, then they actually have the type of mindset it would probably benefit me to develop more of, especially as an aspiring writer. But you can't choose what makes you laugh and what doesn't.
I don't tend (at least, not in public!) to get on my high horse too much about jokes I don't find funny, or deep down actually find a little bit offensive. That's because I can't assume that my reaction to something is automatically the right one, or that it should be universally shared by all...and also because deep down I can't help wondering if it's a little bit...well, uncool, to be a 'little bit offended' by anything, especially in this day and age.
But I still struggle, especially when I saw a comment on Facebook regarding Frankie Boyle's programme which stated that "comedy should be out there pushing all the boundaries!" I wasn't personally aware that comedy should do anything other than make people laugh, but then I suppose those laughs can come from the unlikeliest of places, sometimes.
(Written whilst listening to Amy Winehouse's brilliant 'Frank' - RIP)
No comments:
Post a Comment