When you're a funny person, people will often ask questions like 'OMG, like, how did you get to be so, like, funnnnnnyyy???'
Oh, you know, the usual ways. Poverty, trauma, isolation, and (with jazz hands...) IMAGINATION!
I think it's funny that the things that make people funny usually aren't that funny. Most people who are driven to do comedy use it as a survival mechanism. Comedy can help you cope. Last year, when my brother passed, the weird, funny thought that kept bringing me back to sanity through the funeral and burial was that my brother, who loved digging holes when we were children, would have been really pissed that someone else got to dig his grave.
Comedy can be a weapon. We moved around a lot when I was a kid, and new kids are always a target for bullies, especially when it's pretty obvious that your clothes are hand-me-downs from a different generation. But when some bully yelled 'HEY NEW KID, YOU GET YOUR CLOTHES FROM THE FUCKIN' BRADY BUNCH, OR WHAT?!' I didn't have to throw a punch. I'd just say 'Your mom says it reminds her of when she was young, before having children ruined her life.' If you really want to see a bully come apart, watch what happens when his friends laugh at a joke like that. Bullies are often sensitive about their moms, usually because of some trauma they're bullying away. Some people crack jokes, some people hit things. Sometimes I'd hit things, then crack jokes about what happened to my hands. We all do what gets us through.
What does any of this have to do with undiagnosed mental illnesses, you may be wondering? Well, those top three reasons I gave for how I got to be so, like, funnnnnnyyy, all work together to build a real smorgasboard of brain dysfunction. The reasons may seem obvious, if you think about it at all, but we're going to talk about them anyway. Why? Because that's how you get to be funny.
Poverty
If you just want to seem funny to middle class Americans, spend a year or two being poor. If you're an American reading this, then I don't mean poor like most Americans think of poor. Americans will say things like 'My family was poor, but I never really knew we were poor.'
That's bullshit. If you're hungry, you know you're poor, and if you're not hungry, well, are you really poor? Really? Famous comedians by the dozens have talked about growing up eating government cheese. Hell, government cheese has practically become its own punchline. Did you know that there are other forms of government food? Nobody talks about the government peanut butter, or the government canned pears. I know, I know, we talk about the cheese because people actually liked the cheese, and because cheese is funny. I think that nasty government peanut butter can be funny too. It was like that organic stuff you buy now, that will separate if it sits too long, so you have to stir it back up before you use it.
If they're still giving out that government peanut butter, and you're getting that nasty stuff and wondering what to do with it, here's a free tip. Put it in some small mason jars (your country family knows someone who has some) and sell It to people outside a 'hip' food store or sandwich shop as 'homemade organic peanut butter'. They'll give you $30 for a pint jar of it, and if you actually like peanut butter, you can take your money to the store and buy some Skippy. Or Jif, or whatever other peanut butter you want to buy that actually stays peanut butter.
But let's be honest with ourselves (isn't that what comedy is really for?), if you're poor enough to be getting government food in America, and you suddenly score $30 a pint for a gallon tub of inedible ground peanuts and vegetable oil, you're probably taking that cash and buying some booze. Or drugs. Or, let's be really honest, most of us are getting some of both. And probably ordering some pizzas.
Which brings us to...
Trauma
Trauma is the forge where comedians build their tools. It's the fire that allows us to shape and bend the metal of our merriment. How does it work, you may wonder? Well, anything that makes you smile in the midst of your suffering is likely to be funny. The mental gymnastics that we do to deal with our trauma build a quick wit. Comedians need to think 'outside the box', and the easiest way to learn how to do that is to live a life where everything inside the box is too painful to contemplate.
Poverty will give you the trauma, it's just a by-product of being raised by alcoholics and addicts. But you don't have to be poor to suffer trauma. People across all classes suffer trauma in different forms. If you weren't lucky enough to be traumatized as a child, it's still not too late! There are lots of ways to be traumatized in relationships, so if you really need to be funny, you could maybe go get yourself an abusive partner. If you date a narcissist, you get bonus trauma, because while they're verbally abusing you, they'll be accusing you of verbally (or even physically!) abusing them, so you get to experience a little bit as a giver and a receiver.
If suffering through some trauma seems too difficult, then maybe comedy is not for you. Before you can make people laugh about their suffering, you need to really understand suffering. There may be ways to develop a quick wit and an understanding of pain and suffering without living through some trauma. If you find one of those ways, let me know. Of course, if you find one of those ways, you'll probably end up suffering some trauma anyway, from the other comedians calling you a 'poser'.
Isolation
Isolation is where you really hone your skills. Most people CANNOT handle even being alone, actual isolation would ruin the average person today. I don't just mean putting away the phone, I mean not having a phone, or tv, or radio, or car, or any neighbors, and being all by yourself with your thoughts, for at least a week.
If the thought of that is making your skin crawl, then perhaps comedy is not for you. To entertain others, you have to learn how to entertain yourself, and that's impossible to do if you never spend any time without outside entertainment.
'What kind of person could actually accomplish such a thing?' you ask?
An extraordinary person. A comedian.
Isolation really 'burns in' the mental illness you've developed from poverty and trauma... when there's nobody around to tell you you're 'weird', you don't try to fix your weirdness, it just gets weirder. If you isolate for long enough, you'll come out so weird that you won't even have to tell jokes to make people laugh. People will just laugh at you as you try to re-assimilate into society, asking questions like 'What's a smart phone, do we send phones to school now?'.
If you read all of that, and thought to yourself 'This sounds like my kind of party!', then you probably didn't need to read any of that. You've probably already won some awards around here. If you read all that and thought 'Holy shit, that sounds horrible! I'm doing that!', then come to terms with the fact that you'll never be as funny as those of us whose lives have been a bit more... seasoned. There's nothing wrong with that, I'm sure the world needs unfunny people as well.
After all, someone needs to laugh at the comedians.
Now that I've taught you everything you need to know about being funny, you have approximately one week to go out and ruin your life, then come back and write a truly funny post. Good luck, and god speed!
That's a picture of ice on my kitchen window that formed during a particularly cold night. The patterns are beautiful and interesting, aren't they? Well, they only form when it gets cold enough to kill you. The coolest and most interesting things are always made by terrible and dangerous processes. To be extraordinary, we must learn to walk the fine line between genius and insanity, and not be afraid of spending some time wondering 'Will I make it through this?'.
If you think I'm full of shit, or you think you're funnier than me, come prove it! Get in the ring for The Comedy Rumble, and put your funny where your mouth is!