Thalia, Give Me Strength...

While wading through all of the various responses to the current Presidential campaign, I'm struck by our unfortunate tendency, in this media-rich society, to assume that all forms of media are created equal. I'm not talking about whether or not we watch Fox news or approve of the current rash of robocalls. No, I'm talking about a much more basic set of distinctions: we seem to have somehow forgotten the difference between serious communications and comedy.

Journalists and politicians are serious people, and they are restrained by the nature of their roles from saying certain things which they might otherwise wish to say. Journalists aim to be objective, or at least balanced, and ideally do not express partisan views; politicians are restricted on the one side by an understandable caution about saying anything that might undermine their own positions, and on the other side by the ethical considerations involved in trying to undermine the other guy's position. These constraints come with the territory; there are some places you just don't go.

But comedy is the wild card, the joker in the pack, and comedy gets to go pretty much wherever the hell it wants to; that's in the contract, so to speak, and has been since the days when Aristophanes' rampaging mob of Athenian wives - ancient spokespersons of the Politically Incorrect - set out to stop a war by witholding sex. Comedy can break the rules; indeed, comedy is all about breaking the rules. It's about inversions and reversions and exaggerations and ironic reversals and the crossing of boundaries. It can be blatantly partisan, or it can lambaste both sides equally - no holds barred. Why? Because comedy is not meant to be taken seriously.

So I have to admit, I'm confused by seeing so many complaints out there about statements made by the likes of Jon Stewart, Bill Maher, and other politically-oriented comics. The complaints go like this: "Oh, everybody cries foul if we say something that isn't pretty, but Stewart can say anything he wants and get away with it???"

Short answer: well, yeah, actually, he can. And not (as some have charged) because he's a liberal, but because he's a comedian. His statements are opinion, cast in a comic light, and are not intended to be taken literally. The comedian is a different animal from the journalist and the politician; we are not meant to mistake the comedian's words for facts, he has never claimed to be unbiased, and he is not a spokesperson for anyone or anything. He may be discussing serious topics, but always with a jocular turn. And if we share his opinions - or if we can get over the fact that we don't share them - we just might laugh.

As a rule, comedians are not required to play nice. And it's a good thing they're not, because one of the functions of comedy is to allow audiences to release tensions - tensions we carefully hold in so that we can play nice with each other, at least most of the time. How many of us have dearly wished we could publicly yell a resounding "f*** you" at the political figure of our choice? Alas, Mother taught us not to be impolite, and it's too late to change now, and what would the neighbors think - but ahhh, how it does the heart good to hear someone else say it! The comic is a labor-saving device as well as a face-saving device; he does it so that we don't have to, so that we can preserve that sometimes fragile sheen of respect between the factions. And in doing so, he also allows us to dissipate tensions and frustrations that might otherwise surface in words that will later be regretted, words that burn bridges - or even in real violence. In campaign season especially, we might all give silent thanks to the Muse of Comedy for this service.

Journalists and politicians expect to be taken seriously. In return, they are expected to guard their words and their motives, and set an example of what our society considers "good behavior" for the rest of us. When they don't, they can be called to task.

But comedians are expected to breach the walls - to be, among other things, a social pressure-valve. When they're too polite, that's when I'll start to worry.