What’s so funny about the 44th president? No, seriously.
Since November 4th, aspiring comedians, satirists, and pundits have all faced the same intractable dilemma: There are no good Barack Obama jokes. To be sure, there are jokes featuring the president-elect. Take Jay Leno: Barack Obama’s mother-in-law might be moving into the White House with him. See, Joe Biden was right. ‘Hostile forces will test him in the first few months.’ Or the New Yorker: Obama Administration Application: Part II: If your pastor has ever used such themes as ‘most folks are nice’ or ‘Thank God for little puppy dogs,’ please FedEx his name to the above address and change it to the DNC. Yet in joke after joke, the message is clear: the punch line is anything but Barack Obama.
To be sure, Obama has two hard acts to follow. His predecessors represent the apotheosis of modern presidential humor. Bush and Clinton jokes abound for nearly every facet of the two men’s character. Karl Rove walks into the Oval Office, sees the president celebrating, and asks why. ‘I just solved a puzzle,’ Bush replies,’ and the box says 3-5 years but I finished it in just six months!’ Or for Clinton: Newt Gingrich, Dan Quayle and Bill Clinton all go to see the Wizard of Oz. ‘What brings you before the great Oz?’ the Wizard asks. ‘The liberals always tell me I need a heart,’ Gingrich responds. ‘Consider it done!’ ‘I, er, think I uh need a brain,’ Quayle stutters. ‘It will be so!’ Clinton just stands there looking around. Finally, the Wizards asks: ‘And what do you want?’ ‘Is Dorothy around ?’
A surprising number of jokes can even substitute one president for another.
What’s the difference between Washington, Nixon, and Clinton (or Bush)?
Washington couldn’t tell a lie.
Nixon couldn’t tell the truth.
Bush (or Clinton) can’t tell the difference.
But Barack Obama can. Cottage industries have sprung up over the last sixteen years offering innumerable mementos of each presidency. One can still purchase Bill Clinton contraceptives or daily Bushims calendars. (I know how hard it is to put food on your family.) Barack Obama offers no such consolations.
In a way, Obama brings the dilemma upon himself. He holds no easily mockable qualities. Bill Clinton could always be lampooned for his womanizing, George Bush for his strategery. By comparison, Obama appears quite ordinary. Even a Saturday Night Live relevant enough to define Sarah Palin has found Obama an elusive target. Take last February’s sketch of a Barack-Hillary debate. Amy Poehler shows the ambitious, overweening Hillary familiar to satirists since 1992. Her interlocutors likewise proved so faithful—Would you like another pillow, Senator Obama?—that the New York senator cited the sketch in an actual debate. Yet Fred Armisen can only play Barack Obama as the straight man, for Obama offers little but the straight man to parody.
There is also the factor of Obama’s race. Most jokes I have run across turn on that factor and thus prove completely unrepeatable in this space or in any polite company. Race further complicates otherwise innocuous quips. A comic must tread carefully around Barack Obama lest a jest become a slur. Indeed, the best Obama joke I have seem (from Andy Borowitz ’80) revolves around the problem. A priest, a rabbi and Barack Obama are sitting in a boat. Barack Obama says, ‘This joke won’t work because there’s no Muslim in here.’ Yet meta-humor only provides so many expressions and the problem of race remains. If one ridicules Bush or Clinton, no listener calls bias. Yet the same joke against Barack Obama may appear a smear, even if the intent is entirely race-neutral. Obama thus forestalls many humorous approaches by the simple fact of his ethnicity.
Of course, jokes serve a purpose beyond simple ribaldry. As Mikhal Bakhtin observes in Rabelis and His World, laughter allows listeners to confront deadly serious sentiments. For Rabelis, jokes skewered the Catholic Church and an antiquated feudal polity. For those who believe Bush a gibbering cretin or Clinton an unprincipled philanderer, jokes free tellers to mollify their sentiments through laughter. Such release has proved vital throughout the history of the presidency. Virtually every president, whether great or insignificant, has faced satirists’ quills. What’s flat and glows in the dark? Tehran, ten minutes after Reagan’s inaugurated. Jokes shape and soften images, as well as release vital tensions. Indeed, satire often proved the only way to communicate inexpressible desires. During FDR’s term, a businessman arriving at the train station would always buy a copy of the paper and glance at the headlines before throwing it away in disgust. The newsboy finally asked the man why he never bothered to read the paper before throwing it away. ‘I do read it,’ the businessman huffed, ‘I read the obituaries.’ ‘But the obituaries are near the back,’ the newsboy pleaded. ‘Boy, the fellow I’m looking for will be on page 1!’ To be sure, neither Bush nor Clinton was strengthened as their characters subsumed reality. Yet the body politic benefited from laughter substituted for shouts.
The implications of Obama’s humor gap may, at first glance, seem beneficial for the next administration. Politicians from Aaron Burr to Sarah Palin can testify that humor can shift a public image more powerfully than a thousand attack ads. If one can’t make fun of Barack Obama, one can’t weaken his authority. Nonetheless, Bakhtin emphasizes, the human spirit demands an outlet for its expressions. Without the ability to skewer Obama when he deserves skewering, Americans will be forced to bottle up their inner sentiments beyond healthy limits. Even humorous dissent proves better than the alternative. If, as Bakhtin observes, it would be extremely interesting to write a history of laughter, it would be even more terrifying to see a history of suppressed screams.
But then, that’s why God made Joe Biden. How did Joe Biden respond when asked if he’d plagiarized his speeches? ‘Ask not…’
That’s better.
-Chris Danello, Staff Writer