Where do callousness and therapy meet in the joyful anarchy of horndog antics? How do we reveal facets of our true persona in our methods of exuberant tomfoolery?
One of my housemates mentioned this evening how he had received an unexpectedly cordial, near-apologetic Facebook message from a girl he met at a party last Friday, who he did not particularly expect to hang out with or even see again. He wondered if he should reply. Another housemate had a novel suggestion of how to respond to this heartfelt, courteous token of friendship and gratitude: “Tell her you love her.”
It’s surprising how infectious callousness can be, especially when expressed in the agreeable mode of irreverent humor. While I’ve come to expect this brand of insensitive jocularity from the jesting housemate, I was surprised by my own quickness to join in:
“Send her one of those automated spam messages,” he proposed.
“Yeah,” I added, “like ‘cum check out my hot pix’ or ‘CLICK HERE FOR KEWL APPS’ or something.”
We laughed like hyenas.
Why do we joke like this? This weird mix of irony, self-satisfaction and genuine misogynist aggression seems emblematic of our generation, of our societal class in some way. Is it a catharsis we’re looking for—an outlet for our socio-sexual frustration? Or am I over-thinking it? Are we really sophisticated enough creatures to separate our desire for a laugh and our animal instinct toward social self-preservation?
Tomorrow on HFC: LOLCATS!
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I should add that, while I found your remarks amusing, I did not respond in such a way. I haven't met many people who would do something like what said girl did, and I wouldn't want to discourage that kind of behavior. I wonder if she is reading these blogs.
ReplyDeleteYeah, asshole. She's totally reading your blog. NOT. Maybe she would if you told her you loved her (or offered her appz, whatevz).
ReplyDelete