Here at Recess, we like to cover the arts and media. Clearly. I mean, it's not even in our name. This section has been known to cover the indie band that no one has ever heard of or that art exhibit that piques your interest but you might never see because you are just that busy. And that is just fine. We savor covering and writing about the arts community just as much as you relish getting the artistic lowdown. In all seriousness, go see these events and exhibitions, but one thing that I'm hoping for Recess to entertain this year is additionally covering pop culture beyond reviews and the occasional commentary.
I'm not talking about having Recess be the "E!" network 2.0. I'm hoping that we will cover topics such as the societal implications of genderless clothing or how the VMAs reflects society's value system—both of which have been or will be featured in this Recess online volume. Popular culture is all around us and affects what ideas are pulsing through popular discourse. Our obsessions with popular artists, the shock factor, pop culture's ability to ignite social movements—these perspectives are the more visceral nuances of popular culture that are missing from gossipy TMZ-sites and the tabloids. For once, let's exploit the pop culture's relatability in order to better understand our society.
In that vein, I thought it might be fitting that I might address a recent issue raised by the YouTube video "Dear Fat People" by comedian Nicole Arbour—satire. "Dear Fat People" was a supposed satirical video that slams "fat shaming" as being equivalent to the "race card" and maintains that shaming fat people will motivate them to lose weight. The video currently has millions of views because of its polarizing content and has elicited criticism as being caustic and bully-like from many people including YouTube stars like Tyler Oakley and TLC's Whitney Way Thore of "My Big Fat Fabulous Life." In fact, the video sparked so much outrage that YouTube temporarily shut down Arbour's channel. Arbour, nevertheless, has defended her video by classifying it as satire and lambasts the temporary shutdown of her channel as censorship.
Satire itself is a very tricky demon to define because its definition is messily intertwined with its effect on its audience. Is good satire an article from The Onion, or The Chronicle's "Monday, Monday" column, which pokes fun and reveals ironies about current events? Is good satire perhaps a Jon Stewart-esque approach to the news that leaves viewers with a hovering call-to-action? Or is good satire a boundary-pushing work that has the ability to offend like "Dear Fat People"?
Scholars and practicing satirists each debate the most authentic executions of satire, but for me, I prefer literary theorist Northrop Frye's criteria for successful satire—saturated wit and a valid attack. Wit is pretty straight forward in that humor in any medium, whether manifested misrepresentation or exaggeration of a topic, is central to a satire. More pressing is the issue of valid attack. The audience's take away from the piece must be an understanding of a fundamental problem or irony of a certain situation. A classic example of satire is Jonathan Swift's "A Modest Proposal" where Swift pokes fun at the lack of empathy in Irish policy towards the poor by suggesting that perhaps to solve the issue of poverty, Irish people should eat children living in poverty. If the audience understands the piece's true intention and the audience is receptive to the method of misrepresentation, then the satire flourishes as a work.
Objectively, Arbour's video offers some attempt at wit. Whether these jokes are funny or even clever, depends on personal taste. I found most of them hit or miss. However, when these jokes are paired with the message that that "fat people" reap special privileges by playing the "fat card," they are not successful mainly because what she's advocating is not practical. The University of London shows in a study from 2013 that discriminating people based on weight led to a 70% increase in symptoms of depression and a weight gain in those considered overweight. Her criticism of society's attitudes toward overweight people is not a factually or practically valid claim. What Arbour actually provides in her video is an opinionated rant about some "annoying" encounters with heavier people mixed with some successful jokes. The video can barely hold its own weight as a satire.
In a response video, Arbour trashed the internet community for being too sensitive in the name of political correctness. While I agree that today there is a prominent initiative to refer to certain situations, cultural groups, insert your impassioned cause here, I believe that comedy is able to transcend most of these restrictions on political correctness.
I'm fine with the rant, the jokes, but her advocation to bully people is low. Comedy and satire is meant to be somewhat offensive an edgy, and under the guise of satire, a comedian can get away with a lot of questionable claims and statements. I mean, the very nature of comedy is to criticize and point out ironies in society. The key is that the criticism and the vehicle of humor both point out a truth or describe a situation accurately. People will be offended, and sometimes for trivial reasons. But that's the nature of comedy. And while we need to be able to laugh at ourselves and not take comedy too seriously, we must also be understanding to the greater implications words have on individuals.
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