When Violence Isn't Funny (Don't See Reno 911)

When Violence Isn't Funny

Violence, on paper, that is well timed and original though not real (and therefore victimless) interests, captivates, and even amuses me. Its abrasiveness, instead of repulsing me, holds my attention remarkably well. I could feel guilty for this, but I don't. I see it from the worldview that dictates that included in my right of free expression is the right to laugh at anything. Morally, if my laughter hurts someone, it may be wrong. But if no one is victimized by it, then where can be the harm?

By contrast, it's quite difficult to reason that abstaining from laughter that serves to relieve tension caused by anything is a good idea. To hold back merely because it seems wrong to laugh is a strange attachment to an impersonal and rigid ideology that is cloaked in an image of "correctness" or "uprightness." To repress an emotion of detached joy for the sake of empathy for another whose fortune is unfair is highly noble, but let's not mistake it for the cowardly fear of breaking convention or the small-minded clinging to a code of ethics which doesn't allow for factoring the actual human experience of pain and joy into the equation.

The other question would seem to be: why would one find anything abrasive but also funny? Does this suggest that this person is flawed?

On the contrary, it is in clinging to beliefs which depersonalize our existence into generic codes that we find true self-righteousness and humorlessness, the polar opposite of humility. It is a show of true humility to be able to laugh at the things one condemns and holds as deeply wrong (so long as no actual victim exists). Objectionable material may strike you as funny. It is a simple fact. Let it out. Don't feel guilty. You deserve no guilt for this.

And, as long as we're on the topic of violence and humor, don't see this movie:

This movie was a suckjob of uncommon proportions. It sucked mammoth dick. I left the theatre feeling like my senses had just been assaulted with stupid. I felt horrible. I'll have to stretch just to make another analogy: I felt like, if my mind were a house, they broke off a room, stole my vacuum cleaner, reversed it from suck to blow, then pumped horseshit through the vacuum cleaner into the room. Then they reattached the room, and forced me to sit there and smell it for an hour and a half.

Well, 84 minutes. But that turned out to be way too fucking long for a movie based around a show that barely manages to be entertaining for 22 minutes. Plus these Comedy Central idiots used old footage from the TV show to introduce the characters. The lazy dumbasses who wrote this fecal monster couldn't even come up with an original script! What a piece of shit, waste of time. Don't see it.

Hell, even shitty Saturday Night Live movies are better than Reno 911. And to anyone out there saying, "You just don't get it," I will kick your ass if you don't shut up. I'm not 14 years old. It wasn't clever. The only really funny scene in the movie involved watching pathetic, ugly, inhumanly stupid characters masturbating alone in their respective hotel rooms with the curtains wide open. It was just barely more humorous than it was retarded. In general, I think it's fair to say that suspension of disbelief is not a concept any one of the writers that Comedy Central hired for this one has ever heard of, because every single scene in the movie involves smacking the viewer square in the face with something too stupid to believe.

What's worst about this is that they really did a terrible disservice to funny violence, for which someone ought to light them on fire and videotape it, then save them just before death comes to put them out of their misery, and then force them to sit and watch the tape of themselves burning looped for 84 minutes under the guise that it's comedy. And if you're not laughing, please see the first half of this review.

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violencecanonlybefunnyonpaper@fussypucker.com