Sharp-eyed FOS T. Reilly pointed out that The Wall Street Journal ran two articles on comedy last week. (We think they might require registration.)

In the first, Lee Siegel, writing in the Wall Street Journal, advances a somewhat broad and, at times confusing, thesis about the current state of comedians. Part of it is summed up in his second paragraph:

It seems that as politics descends into dark hilarity… comedians are being asked to offer statesmanlike observations on politics, or to even step forward as possible statesmen themselves. Comedy and politics are changing places.

Actually, we would counter that no one is asking comedians to do any such thing. (At least no moreso than usual.) And that, with the exception of Al Franken, no comedians are “stepping forward to be possible statesmen.”

So what is Siegel trying to say? He goes on to point out that Jon Stewart, Sascha Baron-Cohen, Bill Maher, Stephen Colbert and other “successful yet unfunny comics” are…

…venturing something very serious about American society. It might make you think. It might make you smile. But it doesn’t make you laugh out loud. The catharsis comes not from the comedy, but from the feeling that reality is being called on the carpet, made to stand stiff with attention, and thoroughly reprimanded like a naughty schoolboy.

Later in the piece, Siegel talks about Lenny Bruce and Bob Hope and the evolution of standup comedy. Which might be the main problem we have with the article– the failure to make any distinction between standup comedy comedy as done by Stewart, Maher, et al.

We get uncomfortable whenever anyone lumps standup comedy in with these other kinds of humor. Especially if it’s all labeled “unfunny” or if the practitioners are branded as “unfunny!” It’s really not fair to either the standup comics or to the others who practice significantly different kinds of comedy. Let’s be honest: The laughs per minute ratio of a standup comic is expected to be much higher than that of a news/satire program or a faux documentary or a man-in-the-street assemblage of clips. And the size and intensity of the laugh (and the “takeaway” from the laugh) is expected to be different and varied. And that’s okay. The audience has certain expectations of each. If, however, the lines between them are blurred the confusion does us a disservice.

The other article proclaims that comedians are finally “Learning to laugh at Obama.”

After much hand-wringing that the sure-footed, quirk-free Mr. Obama provided little fodder for mockery, the nation’s comedians are starting to rise to the task, with conservative and black comics paving the way.

We seriously doubt that any of the hand-wringing was done by conservative or black comics. (And we’ve never bought that Obama was either “sure-footed” or “quirk-free.”) So we’ve all along thought that this “We can’t figure out how to joke about Obama” meme was largely a concoction of the media, similar to the “Is Irony Dead?” nonsense they dreamed up shortly after 9-11.

Our favorite quote from the article:

Poking fun at the first black president is sensitive terrain. Many black comedians say racial jokes fall flat among white audiences in blue strongholds like New York and California. White audiences are sometimes hesitant to laugh at a racial jab, comedians say, while some black audiences feel protective of a president they overwhelmingly supported.

Let’s take that apart:

1. Joking about the first balck president is “sensitive terrain.”

2. Racial jokes fell flat in NYC and L.A.

3. White audiences are hesitant to laugh at a racial jab.

4. Some black audiences are “protective” of Obama.

Here’s our response, in order:

1. You’re kidding, right?

2. So what!

3. And…?

4. Make the joke anyway. They’re at a goddamn comedy club.

Why does the MSM (and a startling number of comedians) think that audiences and comedians have gone all soft and mushy all of a sudden just because we elected a mixed-race Illinois senator?

This was the excuses everyone was offering for not making Obama jokes? (Or for being totally incapable of creating same?)

A shameful chapter is the history of standup which, it seems, is over.