Modified On August 13, 2012
That’s the title of an article by Jason Heidemann who wonders, in an article in Time Out Chicago, if homophobia is “the reason Chicago lacks a thriving LGBT stand-up culture.”
He cites as homophobia the case of “a straight comic (who) talked about the intimidation he felt around a big, burly guy at his gym– that is, until he found out the guy is gay.”
In the next paragraph, local comic Adam Guerino says that “When gays go see a show, they may worry, and justifiably so, that they’ll find themselves the butt of jokes.”
To which we reply: When anyone goes to a show, they might find themselves the butt of jokes. Why? BECAUSE IT’S A COMEDY CLUB!
Who, we ask, would go to a comedy club and not entertain the possibility that they might find themselves the butt of jokes? Who would expect to be exempt from such treatment? What might that say about someone if they went to a comedy club and expected to be excluded when it comes to being made fun of? Further, if someone goes to a comedy club, subsequently finds himself to be the “butt of jokes,” and is offended and identifies such jokes as indicative of irrational fear and hatred, might it not be reasonable to assume that the person in question is horribly misinformed about the nature of a comedy club and/or wildly self-centered?
Indeed, might not that person be horribly misinformed about the nature of humor itself? Might not that person be, dare we say it, humorless? Overly-sensitive? There may actually be evidence of irrational fear here, but we’re not so sure that it’s the straight comic mentioned in paragraph one.
The rest of the article has some sane, reasonable quotes from another comic in Chicago’s “LGBT stand-up culture,” Cameron Esposito. But quotes from Bill Cruz and Guerino were a bit over the top– we suspect that the prosecutor (Heidemann) was leading the witnesses in an attempt to create a hook for the piece or reinforce his own notions about the state of queer comedy in Chicago. (And in an attempt to make his case, he couldn’t resist a gratuitous slap or two at the straight comics in that town.)
We’re not convinced, as Cruz says, that “”Youll find antigay sentiment at a lot of stand-up. There’s a certain amount of homophobia you can express that’s accepted. Sometimes there’s a lot of gay- and women-bashing.”
Perhaps it’s a matter of language and perception. One man’s “antigay sentiment” is another man’s joke that makes a goofy point about the guy at the gym. One person’s “gay-bashing” is another person’s broad (but ultimately harmless) joke about Lance Bass.
But, once again, straight comics are portrayed in an article as homophobic troglodytes. The occasional “fag impression” by the inexperienced open-miker (or by Robin Williams in countless late-night talk show appearances) and the next thing you know, we’re a network of good ol’ boy of knuckle-draggers looking for the next Matthew Shepard. (Exaggeration? You’ll allow us just a bit of, to even things up.)
Esposito says something very interesting:
“There’s always this process of coming out in front of your audience. You don’t have to do that with a queer crowd, but [LGBT] audiences are tougher because having a queer event automatically politicizes it.”
We’ve always maintained that politicizing comedy is death to comedy. If one is politicizing comedy (at an LGBT event or at the local Chuckle Hut), one is thinking too much. Parsing, analyzing, extrapolating– all are activities that dampen the exchange between comic and audience member.
That might partially answer the question Heidemann poses in his article’s first graf.