The Death of British Comedy?

Following on from my blog on British identity last week, I couldn’t help but notice the increasing trend of ‘political correctness gone mad’ not only in general society but recently in comedy as well. Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past year or so, it will have been difficult to escape the mass-hysteria surrounding the Brand/Ross prank phone calls to ‘national treasure’ Andrew Sachs about his granddaughter, and more recently the Jimmy Carr backlash following his amputee joke.

Given that we, the British, have always seemed to pride ourselves on our readiness for laughter, it is more than a little concerning that so many seem to have had a sense of humour bypass somewhere along the way to 2010. Aside from electing Boris Johnson as Mayor of London and the continued presence of Jedward in X-Factor, the only intentional humour that seems to be socially acceptable now is the toe-curlingly embarrassing array of catch-phrases peppering Strictly Come Dancing from Bruce Forsyth’s ancient, puckered mouth.

Whilst, then, we drown in crippling mediocrity and resign ourselves to ‘comedy’ that is more Russell Bland than Brand, it is important to consider whether us Brits are really losing our sense of humour or if too many are just jumping onto the apparent socially acceptable bandwagon of complaining. The British excel at complaining about anything and anyone, and social persuasion is rife in our culture.

Looking objectively at the Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand row over the apparent degradation of Georgina Baillie, Andrew Sachs’ granddaughter, it wouldn’t be unfair to deem Brand and Ross’ voicemail discussing the former’s sexual relations with her as inappropriate, especially live on air. 




However, given that this Georgina Baillie is part of a strip group called the Satanic Sluts and further to this she was initially proud of the mention, posting the clip on her MySpace page, their comments were hardly unfair. This is a girl who has made hardcore porn for public viewing and uses her sexuality as a way to pay the bills.

Whilst yes, Brand and Ross were a little out of order and pushed their prank too far, it was their bosses who decided to air it and deemed it socially acceptable with a warning. Comedy always holds the risk of offending people; that is half of its attraction. Risqué one-liners, taboo subjects and controversial topics are what drive humour, and the BBC’s recent decision to take no more creative risks is a saddening one. Given that only 2 people actually complained about the Radio show that it was broadcast on until the good old Daily Mail’s Sunday supplement stirred the shit, I had hoped that the further thousands of complainers were just angry that their tax money is funding these so-called comedians who, it was being reported, were offending the public.

However following the recent media frenzy surrounding THAT Jimmy Carr joke (the suggestion that we will have an amazing Paralympic team for 2012 due to the large number of amputees from Iraq and Afghanistan), I am not so sure. Carr is a comedian whose entire humour is centered around offending just about everything and everyone. Usual topics of jokes include rape, murder, obesity, paedophilia and beastiality to name but a few. (See http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5JHnMyiWNk4  for an example of sexism in his humour). One wonders about the moronic nature of people who pay to go and see such a man on tour knowing his sense of humour, then complain when they don’t like a particular joke.

Researching this further unearths a rather irritating statistic, though. Carr is currently in the middle of a 10-month tour. Each date plays to about 9,000 people. Only 2 people complained. Once again with this number that changes it from being a single anomaly to a multiple; enough for the media to pick up on it and create an unnecessary amount of fuss. Perhaps it is due to Poppy week (this also relates to my last blog) that there is so much sensitivity around this particular joke at this particular time. This has led me to once again question this industry that I am trying to break into. The media, and more specifically, Public Relations, seems to have the power to completely manipulate the masses. Society is told who to love and hate; who is good and who is bad. It was Andrew Sachs’ PR agent who was called by the Mail on Sunday and provoked into complaining, despite Sachs’ original permission to broadcast the telephone calls and it was the media who have blown Jimmy Carr’s joke out of proportion (in comparison to many of his other jokes) when so few of the actual public complained.

There’s nothing quite like a little bit of ‘political correctness gone mad’ to bring about a premature death of someone’s career, and it seems like the media are doing all they can to vilify the few genuinely amusing people to grace our screens and stages today. Is it because they are struggling for news? Or is it more of a keep up with the Jones’ in the world of print, where if one paper reports a story which generates some interest, the others scramble for similar readership and, having failed to generate any ‘shock’ stories of their own, are quick for a share in the glory? I find it more than a little worrying that stories such as these beat others such as earthquakes and murders to the headlines, yet these seem to be the stories that are favoured and shifting copies. Will Britain's love for a scandal lead to the eventual death of comedy?

Has Britain Lost its Sense of Identity?

In light of the media furore surrounding Nick Griffin’s appearance on Question Time last week, I couldn’t help but question his extreme Nationalistic views on our society; has Britain lost its sense of identity due to our questionably disproportionate multi-cultural tolerance, and, if so, what exactly was this sense of identity in the first place?

Certainly the Christianity, manners, wealth and stiff upper lip of times gone by so often associated with Britishness have shifted somewhat/become essentially extinct. These days, the respectable English Gent has been replaced by a beer-swilling, chanting football hooligan who’ll incessantly try to get his leg over anything with a skirt and a pulse. This yobbish desperation is all too often coupled with an unfathomable arrogance and disbelief upon rejection.


Indeed just this week I walked past a traffic jam in which three leering, perverted pikeys (read: Burberry cap-donning dole-scum) shouted 'shake ya booty!' from their chavmobile (read: pimped out but nevertheless undisguisedly shabby 1993 Ford Fiesta with absolutely zero need for a spoiler and a presumed illegal sound system blaring out some sketchy drum and bass loud enough to wake my grandmother up in Newcastle). Upon my returned disgusted look and lack of compliance, they chanted 'F*CKING LESBIAN!' until I was out of earshot, impressively somehow managing to even drown out their ear-drum bursting ‘beatz.’ Of course I was greatly amused by the concept that because I didn’t eagerly leap forward with an animalistic display of frenzied lust and offer up my best bootylicious Beyonce moves (I really don’t think they were ready for this jelly) then I must of course be a raving, butch dyke. Who indeed could resist such visionary delights, with their gelled curtains (oh so 90s!), gold studs, top of the range JJB sportswear and generic tattooed arms?

The most worrying factor in this scenario was just how utterly unfazed I was; unfortunately, I think I speak for the majority of women in this country in saying that getting groped at the bar, shouted obscenities at in the street or being literally humped on the dance floor are all things we learn to tolerate in today’s society. But on the other hand, long gone is the genteel lady associated with British identity a century ago who never speaks out of turn and serves her man. Waving the stereotypical British women’s flag now is a foul-mouthed Essex chav with canary yellow hair extensions, tangerine skin, fake Juicy Couture tracksuits and 3 children by different fathers; a cigarette hanging from her lips as a permanent fixture and clutching a bottle of wine at all times.

If this week’s The Sun headline is anything to go by, it is the women of today that pose the biggest threat to society; the cat-fighting, screeching, no-knicker wearing alcoholics, vomiting Britain’s pride down the drain (pastimes glamorized by society’s WAGs).

Bearing all this in mind, are we sure that this ostensible devotion to multiculturalism and bending over backwards to accommodate different races and religions in Britain is such a bad thing? Given that the moral codes of Christianity have long died out in our society, surely we may profit from other religious guidelines? Apparently this is not so. If we were to believe the views held by nationalists such as the delightful Mr Griffin, we are creating a chasm just perfect for millions of illegal immigrants to litter with their religions, ways of life and cultures which are steadily pushing out our own.

Whilst of course I disagree with this, it isn’t completely unfair of me to say that there aren’t some nuggets of truth buried in there. ‘Political correctness gone mad’ is a pandemic currently sweeping the nation where we pander to the needs of pretty much every other religion and race apart from our own. It is currently perfectly acceptable to have a Black Police Society but not a white one, for different religions to have extra days off from work including Christian holidays, to have entire areas of London that are non-white and to run segregated Muslim schools. Whilst ethical diversity is one of London’s selling points in my opinion, it is certainly extreme that only 12% of Southall’s residents are indigenous whites, for example.

Whilst in Nick Griffin's eyes the ‘black’ areas of Britain and especially London are gang heaven and the Indian and Pakistani areas are unquestionably terrorist havens, the majority of England (thankfully) disagree. It has been other races, colours and religions that have helped England win the wars and shaped the country into what it is today. They are an integral part of our history, and just as legitimate a citizen as I am. This leads me to question quite what Nationalism is. Do we have any place for it in this society, where its ambassadors use it as a tool for racism?

If the football hooligans and their WAG’s now define British identity then perhaps we should be grateful for the diversity around us. Britain was always going to change, and past ways were always going to die out. Thus is the nature of evolution.

Still, English people accounts for 83 percent of the British population and 85 percent of the economy. Still, 650 million people speak our language. Still, we remain a superpower. Still, we’re globally recognizable. 


We’re still British. We’ve just changed a bit.