BY DOMINIC WIGHTMAN
There’s a well-known anecdote from the Soviet Union:
A judge walks out of his chambers laughing his head off. A colleague approaches him and asks why he is laughing.
“I just heard the funniest joke in the world!”
“Well, go ahead, tell me!” says the other judge.
“I can’t – I just gave someone ten years for it!”
There’s a similarity in this anecdote to the absurdity of modern times in Britain – as Arron Banks is finding with his (unfunny) attempt at humour over straight-faced environmentalist Greta Thunberg. Say the “wrong” thing and you’ll have a horde of Twitter vampires descend on you from their dusty attics. They are judge and jury. Jokes are their enemy. Although they laugh and joke in private, laughing at them is not allowed and they get immediately “offended”.
The fact is that it is (well-judged) humour that works best as garlic to these vampires. As collectives, they tend not to have any sense of humour at all, especially the Labour neo-Marxists. Delightfully, they make for a walking treasure trove of comedy material – David Lammy getting all annoyed about Home Office Anti-Knife Ads on fried chicken boxes; Angela Rayner thinking that a vegetarian diet encompasses McDonald’s Filet o’ Fish; Diane Abbott claiming fire puts out water when discussing Grenfell sprinkler systems. If David Davis is thick as mince, then these British acolytes of Foucault, Derrida and Lyotard attempting to pollute the British Capitalist Nirvana are Dorki Maximi.
Life of Brian was way ahead of its time taking the mickey out of these identity-politicking knuckle heads:
To easily counter the postmodern neo-Marxist mind virus – that these crazies try to spread still further across British life – we should continue to laugh at, and joke about, these pompous fools, sticking two fingers up at the absurdity of their intersectionality, divisive diversity and political correctness by turning it on and against them by evoking the rebellious guile and wit of brilliant, pipe-smoking British guerrillas of yesteryear.
It’s not hard to make intersectionality unworkable (it tends to do that all by itself, as men win women’s races by dozens of yards and Labour appoints a women’s officer with a middle stump). It’s not hard to pollute the Marxist fish tank with some well-directed laughter that drives those confused souls inside into a self-expending Brownian motion of paranoia and defeatism.
Students are best placed to turn the minefields of identity politics and Marxist-led conversations into bloody quagmires. As one Twitter user posted:
The ideas of Postmodern Neo-Marxism depend almost entirely on stealing and infecting language but they are no match for humour – for the nuances of satire and curve-ball memes. Rifling the piss out of absurdity is a valid and noble sport and there should be awards and rewards for it. Social Media provides a ready audience, which doubles as an army in a culture war when it laughs out loud at the enemy.
The way to chemo-blast the POMOs’ cancerous mind virus is by using humour against it – by making them think more about opening their mouths. By trumping their absurdity with absurdity so absurd that all anyone can do is laugh at it. By calling out the racism ingrained in their anti racism. By pointing out the fascism in their anti fascism and the Sozialismus in Nationalsozialismus. By ridiculing the idea of responding to crises with just heart and no head. (Same with the extremist Islamists, who rant on for hours on their forums about ankle exposure and masturbation – they get as paranoid as the Commies, especially when you point out the Jinn you can see sitting on their shoulder).
We should be grateful that the enemies of Britain are so easy to laugh at – to prod, rile and disperse. Hitler only had one ball holds lessons for the victors from one conflict to the next – Brits should never forget it.