Ah, comedy. The fine art of making people laugh—or at least trying to. But here’s the kicker: what makes people laugh is as varied as the biscuits in a tin of Quality Street. Some people appreciate clever, quick-witted humour, others prefer slapstick, where someone falling over is the height of hilarity. Then there are the visual comedy enthusiasts—think Mr. Bean pulling a face—and suddenly the nation is in stitches. But hold on, isn’t comedy supposed to stimulate your mind, make you smile, and trigger a tsunami of endorphins? That feel-good glow we all chase after a long day of being normal, functioning adults?
Well, not so fast. Enter the Woke Police, armed with a checklist of Things You Can’t Say Anymore. Step out of line, crack the wrong joke, and you’re cancelled quicker than a dodgy reality TV show. “Sorry mate, you’ve offended someone, and now your career is about as viable as Blockbuster video.” No, not all jokes are good, but neither are all opinions. What happened to just… not laughing?
Let me give you an example. I used to work for one of the world’s largest comedy club chains, Jongleurs. They had around 30 clubs across the country, and I was basically a comedy scout. My job? Travel the nation, sit in a room full of people, watch comedians do their thing, and judge them—not on whether I found them funny, mind you. No, my job was to watch the audience, see how they reacted. Did the comedian land with the crowd or die on stage? I might’ve found something funny that no one else did, but that wasn’t the point. It was the audience’s reaction that mattered. Funny, isn’t it, how personal taste works?
Take Mrs. Brown’s Boys, for instance. You know, that national institution (apparently) written by Brendon O’Carroll. I’ve known Brendon for years from his days hustling on the stand-up circuit, and let me tell you, back then, he was genuinely hilarious. But Mrs. Brown’s Boys? Schoolboy humour at best—offensive to the eyes at worst. It’s comedy that seems to appeal to the lowest common denominator. Yet, here we are, with Brendon laughing all the way to the bank, pocketing over £12 million from stage shows, DVDs, and downloads. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here wondering what the hell just happened.
But hey, that’s just my opinion. I don’t run around telling people it’s not funny, because it’s none of my business if you find a bloke in a frock swearing at his pretend family the height of comedic genius. Comedy is subjective. What makes me laugh may leave you stone-faced and scrolling through your phone. And that’s the point: no one has the right to tell anyone else what they can or can’t find funny. It’s like being told what you should find attractive. “No, sorry, you can’t fancy them—it’s not socially acceptable.” Get stuffed. It’s my taste, not yours.
Take Ricky Gervais, for example. Love him or loathe him, the man speaks his mind, and he’s not fussed about whether you’re offended. He’s famous for saying, “It’s not my problem if you’re offended by what I say.” And you know what? He’s got a point. Offence is a personal reaction. You can find his jokes distasteful, but does that mean we all have to clutch our pearls and gasp in unison? No, mate, turn the telly off if you’re that bothered.
Gervais, an atheist with plenty to say on religion, sums it up perfectly: “I don’t think there is a God, but belief in Him does no harm. If it helps you, crack on.” It’s when people’s beliefs start infringing on other people’s rights that things get dicey. And that’s where comedy steps in, often to poke fun at the absurdity of it all. Whether you agree with Gervais or not, one thing’s for sure: the right to have an opinion is far more important than the right to be inoffensive. And honestly, a world where no one says anything offensive sounds about as exciting as watching paint dry (or Mrs Browns Boys…. Oops how hypocritical of me.)
It’s like flipping through TV channels—if you don’t like what you’re watching, turn over! There are more channels than hours in the day, so why stick with something that gets your goat? The same goes for comedy. If you’re off to see a stand-up, chances are you’ve got a pretty good idea of what you’re in for. So, it shouldn’t come as a surprise when the comedian says something you don’t agree with. You paid for the ticket, mate. Don’t act shocked when the material isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.
In the end, it’s about choices. You’ve got your taste, I’ve got mine. But please, for the love of all things comedic, don’t try and inflict your choices on me—or anyone else. It’s not your job to educate me, unless I ask for it, which I won’t. We’re all individuals. And seriously, who wants to be like everyone else? Boring! Laughter, after all, is supposed to be the great equaliser, not the thought police’s latest target.
Now, speaking of divisive comedy, let’s not forget Frankie Boyle. He’s another one who splits the room like Moses parting the Red Sea—except with a lot more swearing. Boyle’s brand of humour is known for being sharp, dark, and often crossing lines. In fact, he doesn’t so much cross the line as sprint past it and set up camp on the other side. Now, I’ll admit, some of his jokes leave even me a bit uncomfortable—especially when he starts talking about taboo subjects. But here’s the thing: Frankie Boyle is unapologetically Frankie Boyle. He doesn’t try to sugar-coat it. You know exactly what you’re signing up for when you buy a ticket to his show. So, if you end up clutching your pearls, maybe you’ve wandered into the wrong comedy gig.
At the end of the day, comedy is about freedom of expression, and if we start putting barriers up because someone might get offended, then we’re missing the point of it all. Comedy is a mirror to society—sometimes it reflects the good, and other times, it shows us the bits we don’t want to see. But that’s what makes it so brilliant. So please, let’s all stop pretending we need to agree on everything. It’s OK to disagree. It’s OK to be offended. But for heaven’s sake, just don’t ruin it for the rest of us who came for a good laugh.