‘South Park’ as healing mechanism
Everyone’s taste doesn’t have to conform to your sensibilities
It didn’t take too long into 2020 for people on Twitter to start earnestly debating whether “South Park,” an extremely popular show that has been on air for decades, has been wreaking havoc on our society with its offensiveness.
As far as I can tell, the conversation started with a series of tweets from “She-Hulk” writer Dana Schwartz, who claimed that it “seems impossible to overstate the cultural damage done” by the show, adding that it has “portrayed earnestness as the only sin and taught that mockery is the ultimate inoculation against criticism.”
She continued: “Smugness is not the same as intelligence; provocation isn’t the same as bravery.”
The debate raged on for days, to the point where it became impossible to log on to Twitter without seeing something about it. Although the vast majority of the people in the replies disagreed with Ms. Schwartz, it was still disheartening to see people agreeing, saying that she was “absolutely right,” that the show was nothing more than “a ‘safe space’ for white guys,” or that the people criticizing Ms. Schwartz’s thread were merely “proving its point.”
This was not the first time I had seen “South Park” criticized in this way. For example: In November, the show was accused of “transphobia” for its episode about transgender athletes. In December, feminist writer and activist Lindy West attacked “South Park” for overusing irreverence, claiming that “irreverence needs to be deployed strategically, tactically,” while the show “has always fetishized irreverence in this way where it’s like irreverence for irreverence’s sake — anything that anyone holds sacred deserves to be lampooned and satirized.”
These critics are correct about one thing: “South Park” is consistently offensive, and it absolutely has gone after every sacred subject under the sun. Where the critics are wrong, though, is in their contention that this is a bad thing, that this approach has led only to nihilism and cruelty. In fact, I can confidently say the show’s penchant for unbridled derision has been directly responsible for my own joy in some times of terrible sadness.
Make no mistake, “South Park” is brutal. It takes subjects that aren’t supposed to be touched at all and handles them roughly. It’s true that it’s crude and rude and disgusting, even in its treatment of subjects that are supposed to be solemn — spoken of only in polite whispers and polished platitudes if they’re ever spoken of at all.
The thing is, though, that’s precisely why I think it’s so great — because it’s taught me that I can laugh, even at life’s most horrific atrocities, disarming its toughest challenges by demonstrating that even they are not untouchable by the powerful healing forces of humor.
Now I am not, of course, saying that everyone must feel the same way. In fact, I am certain that a lot of people do not. But guess what? It doesn’t matter. Not all comedy has to work for all people, and it is wrong to expect it to do so.
The people accusing “South Park” of ruining our culture, of being terrible because of its rough treatment of delicate subjects, think that they’re being compassionate. They think that they speak for the people who feel mocked by the show and that they are standing up for them. They fancy themselves selfless, loving heroes.
They’re not. In fact, they are the opposite: They are so self-centered that they expect the entire world’s tastes and values to conform to their own sensibilities.
Far too many people, it seems, are incapable of responding to a joke that they don’t care for by saying, simply, “Hey, maybe this joke isn’t for me, but I understand that maybe someone else is getting some joy out of it, and that is OK — because there are other jokes that are for me, so all of them don’t have to be.” Now, instead, it’s common practice to disparage the creators of the joke as evil and wholly bad at their craft.
Perhaps the most common argument against the advocates of cancel culture is that they’re lame and uncreative — and I think they generally are. After all, if you could never hope to be even a fraction as creative and fearless and funny as a show like “South Park,” then I guess the only option you have is to say that the show is ruining society.
The thing is, though, being lame and uncreative is also probably the least objectionable thing that these sorts of people do. What’s worse is that, by telling people to avoid joking about sensitive topics, or to use irreverence sparingly, they are advocating that coping mechanisms should be taken away from people who may need them.