To begin I would like to announce that Steve Wright, him off the Radio Two afternoon show, is psychic. The other week he was on the air and answered a question I had in my head regarding a TV advert and Stuart Marconie, then last week I was picking a Challenge chainsaw. As I looked at the description in the picking ticket and read the word “Challenge”, Steve actually said the word as I read it. Odd. Weirder still, today I was umming and ahhing over when to eat my Bakewell Tart. I finally unwrapped and was halfway through when Mr Wright managed to say the word Bakewell.!!! How weird is that.

Now something has been on my mind all day. I have a weird sense of humour, I don’t think any of you will refute that statement. Most of you will either agree with that so much your heads will roll off or will be absolutely gob-smacked I would even suggest I WASN’T.! But why do I have that type of humour. Why is it that I find Catherine Tate utterly unfunny, totally boring and even rather offensive to me, while if someone says the phrase “Treat your missus like a Princess, get drunk, drive her through a French underpass, lose control, hit a concrete pillar and kill her instantly” I giggle like a nine year old giving birth.

I guess we all have different influences in our lives that affect the nature of our humour. I was brought up on a diet of Ronnie Barker, Richard Briers and John Cleese in my early childhood. I know that those people were biggest way back in the 1970s and 1980’s but it is still an important part of my development that I learnt not only the importance of laughter but the structure of making a situation funny. John Cleese’s simple torturing of poor Manuel started my love of pure slapstick. There is very little that I find funnier than someone being whacked in the head by a frying pan, hit with a plank or slipping over on a puddle of custard. It is easy, almost lazy humour. Ronnie Barker stuck the idea of word play in my little child head. With him spilling non-sensical sentences with consumate ease and repetition whilst wearing a half suit/half dress out fit I was bound to be a follower for the rest of his career.

So where does my downright sick, perverted sense of toilet/sexual humour drop from.? I personally think, apart from a certain school friend who will remain nameless (sorry Doc) who shared a love of toilet humour with me from a very early age, Carry On films certainly drowned me in a slurry of innuendo, knob gags and base jokes that I still chuckle about to this very day. Later in my life both Bottom and Viz have fulfilled my love of all things gutter like. Possibly the reason I rely heavily on this kind of thing when I am in not-so-polite company stems mainly from the effortlessness it takes to make people grin at some vague remark that can be instantly dirtied up. Also to say something shockingly rude which ends up with people shouting my name at me in mock disgust whilst still smiling heartily is not only good for my ego, but good for getting certain things off my chest. You should all be well aware now that I deal with certain horrible, tragic aspects of life by making seemingly callous and evil* jokes about them. Trust me, tis far easier to laugh than to cry despite the obvious physiological and psychological similarities between the two.

Do our social and family spheres cause influence within our growing minds with regard to learning how to enjoy comedy.? As a kid did you have an Uncle who used to tell awful jokes or as in my case a close friend who had an almost gift like charm for making people laugh without even trying. My later college years honed both my confidence that I could be funny and could create not only on the spot remarks but more complex gags as well.

Something to think about I hope I have given you.

(*TAXI.!)

This entry was posted on Monday, April 16th, 2007 at 1:41 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.