Iâve written jokes for more than 30 years. I know jokes.
Some of my best pals are joke writers, like the brilliant âTonight Showâ veteran Jay Taylor. Every time I get an email from him, Iâm blessed with a laugh. My best bud Elliot Glicksman, the worldâs greatest personal injury lawyer, comedian and human encyclopedia of Borscht Belt humor, can crank out classic bits on a dime. So can my pal, playwright Nick Seivert, who wrote brilliant musical comedies for the late Great American Playhouse. Get us together with comedians Nancy Stanley or Kristine Levine and all weâll talk about is the art of the joke.
We jokesters know a joke when we hear one.
What Roseanne Barr tweeted was not a joke. When she blamed the tweet on Ambien â that was a joke. Hoo, boy, what a knee slapper!
Barrâs racist tweet made use of a common joke formula: Blank crossed with blank spawned the sap youâre roasting. Example: What do you get when you cross the Aryan Brotherhood with a sheep? Roseanne Baaa.
Letâs dissect Barrâs zinger aimed at the great African-American public servant Valerie Jarret: âMuslim brotherhood + Planet of the Apes=Vj.â
I had not heard the phrase âPlanet of the Apesâ used in such a fashion since I was in Norfolk, Virginia, in the early â80s, when a white reporter took this new hire for a walk in downtownâs largest open-air pedestrian mall. I was stoked. New paper. New city. New people.
My guide was a white native of the area, a grizzled Vietnam vet and a writer in the manner of Hunter Thompson. As he was telling me the history of the area, he whispered this random gem: âThe locals call this mall âPlanet of the Apes.ââ The mall was frequented by black residents. Nearly 40 years later, Iâm still ashamed I pretended not to hear him as we walked past black professionals taking their lunches and black families shopping, laughing and gossiping. I never forgot the cruel relish with which he whispered his comment.
The president said itâs not fair for ABC to fire Roseanne because other comedians have said horrible things about the orange orangutan in the White House and none of them got fired. Heâll make Roseanne great again. Sheâll go on a Confederate USO Tour of Americaâs Aryan Compounds. Run for president in 2024.
Trump believers believe HBO should cancel Bill Maherâs show because Maher called Trump the spawn of an orangutan, an insult so profoundly disturbing to these Nellies that it upended the cosmos and sent the chickens clucking. In joke writersâ circles, this huffing is known as crapola.
First, every president gets ridiculed. Donald, check out the long tunnel of vicious anti-Abe cartoons at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum, in Springfield, Illinois, and then feel sorry for yourself, you sad, humorless snowflake.
Second: Wow. You indignant whiners donât have a clue how much you sound like fascists itching to censor speech in 21st century America.
Maherâs joke was not about Trumpâs race. Isnât he half-Prussian and half-tangerine? Itâs about the fact Trump has orange hair and long arms and so do orangutans. There is no historic centuries-old racism tied to using orangutan imagery to insult fair-haired Caucasians like the president. The phenomenon of their resemblance to Trump is so widely acknowledged in the animal kingdom that thousands of orangutans gather in the spring to hold a Trump lookalike contest, which is televised across Borneo.
To whine that Maherâs âTrump looks like an orangutanâ jibe is as offensively racist as the âPlanet of the Apesâ slur must be a joke.
What do you get when you cross a privileged white president who retweets racist posts with a snowflake who claims heâs persecuted? A joke with no sense of history or context.
Barrâs slam was the sub-species of a joke youâd hear repeated by white slavers on slaving expeditions, or whispered during the slave auctions of mothers and children, or celebrated in vulgar minstrel shows, or swapped in the shadows of lynch mobs a generation ago, or retweeted by the ignorant today under the flickering glow of a tiki torch.
Thanks, ABC, for standing up to the crapola.
And that is no joke.



