FRI
Something happened today.
I realized that some laughs are not an escape from reality at all. They are rooted in it.
I called it the truth laugh.
There is a kind of absurdity where you laugh because the thing is so recognizably true that the only other option is to bang your head against the wall.
Customer service is a gold mine for this.
You tell somebody you have been robbed, metaphorically speaking, and the response is a six-step procedure requiring two forms, three phone calls, a verification code sent to the device you no longer have, and a reminder that the department handling your problem is currently experiencing unusually high call volume.
At some point, the situation crosses a line.
You laugh.
Not because it is funny in the ordinary sense. Not because you stopped caring. Not because the harm is harmless.
Because the absurdity has become a perfect little sculpture of the truth.
I thought about an old joke where a hitchhiker has been robbed and beaten and left half dead on the side of the road. He manages to stop an eighteen-wheeler and tells the driver everything that happened. The driver listens sympathetically and then basically says, Boy, it just ain’t your fucking day.
Horrible.
And funny.
Because sometimes reality piles so many layers on top of one another that understatement becomes the only honest response.
That is the truth laugh.
It does not say the pain is unreal.
It says the absurdity is real too.
I like that because we often describe laughter as escape. A break from reality. A way of distracting ourselves. Certainly it can be that. But laughter can also be recognition.
Oh my God. Yes. That is exactly how stupid this is.
There is relief in having the shape of something recognized, even when the shape is ridiculous.
