English Version | The world won't be laughing in the end

Studies show that our civilisation will go down fighting. Or verbally insulting in traffic. During a discussion in a condominium assembly. In any way that is not a collective hug, wishing that we meet on “the other side” to pursue the banter. 

When “all of this” ends, it will be terrible. I think this is something we can all agree on. Screaming, explosions, gigantic light balls? I don’t know. And I also don’t know which plague will be upon us. I only know that it is already late, because if this is not just like Sodoma and Gomorra, then Sodoma and Gomorra were boring. If when “The End” comes, it is something remotely similar to ancient prophecies, written in the Jewish Tora and, later, transcribed from Hebrew to Greek (and then to Latin), as a way to be included in the Bible in the Ancient Testament, I choose the plague of locusts. It is my favourite. It must make a beautiful effect. Something close to The Birds, from the master Hitchcock, but with a not so great framing. I always imagine those who are afraid of cockroaches and beetles seeing, while hysterically screaming, bugs that can be of a significant 10 centimetres long, millions of them, getting in our hairs, popping out of our t-shirt, resting in that part of the legs that the shorts nor the skirt can cover. Then, many years later, maybe a thousand, the civilisation that follows will not encounter, like in Pompei, mummified by volcanic ashes, people that were hugging or “spooning” in their beds, a testimony of those who decided to unite in the beginning so that, in the future, archeologists, tourists passing by Naples and the whole world could know that love already existed and it was not an Hollywood’s invention. I can advent how will those “human statues” be, petrified by some armageddon, that will be found to then testify the life that we lead today. There will be someone seated on a garden bench trying to catch the WiFi of an apartment that forgot to codify its password. There will be a man on the sofa watching one of those programs where three or four individuals with the body of a transhumance pastor discussing football. There will be another man on the chair holding his phone where he was watching Backroom Casting Couch (presumably). A line of “Zé Tunnings” in the MacDrive, in Hondas Civic Type R and Seat Ibizas releasing smoke. A skinhead with a poster where it still reads “Portugal Is Not Racist”. And many, many boys seated on the floor of their bedrooms looking at the TV, still with their Playstation remotes on their hands. 

“Weird times these we live in” is the most comprehensive sentence we can find. It is there for every single era, in the mouth of every generation. We usually say it when we already are in our 40s. When we are over 50, the sentence changes slightly, even though the meaning remains the same: “It was better on our days.” There lies the basis for the Generation Gap, in an extremely poor but common tradition. We mistaken our lack of patience for certain activities, because we are undeniably old, with a feeling of nostalgia related to a time where there was no social media, but we still socialised, for example: “We set meetings with our friends through our landlines at a certain time and in a certain place, without phones to be able to ask the most ridiculous question ‘where are you?’, they simply were there” and, with more or less details, the most trivial conversation from those who are already reaching their middle life. Yes, nowadays, teenagers socialise through social media. Mostly on WhatsApp and Instagram. The youngest are kings of TikTok. And we, that criticise them so much, are the kings of selfies with our friends, of the meals we eat, of the bread we make and the vacations we took on Instagram, pretending to be influencers. Have you asked your children what do they think of us when we post these pictures? Have you told your kid you are on Tinder and wait to see their reaction? Not to mention Facebook where, let’s face it, everyone becomes a hater after joining those ridiculous discussions about subjects that no one cares and that would never happen if we were face to face with our “opponent” at a dinner table, something that we keep referring to as the best way for social interactions, even though we do it less and less. There are those who have lost lifetime friendships, there are those who have made friends which, in reality, are not, there are those who have finished relationships because their boyfriends keep on commenting every single post “of that slut that is always showing her boobs on her profile picture”. But who is actually the little brat here? We socialise less and less, we increasingly close ourselves on our shell, we no longer accept the opposite point view and, naturally, we are irascible and temperamental. How did we get here? I don’t know how to answer. But I know that social media has something to do with it. It was the invention of the 21st century, there is no doubt of that. But all of these gifts come with a trap! TV was already so harmful (even in black and white) that we needed one of those filters to cover the screen, stuck with a plastic sevillana and a handkerchief. Computer screens also led to a growth in the number of eye appointments. Then came the phones and it was a save-yourself due to radiations directly in the brain, from the frontal lobe to the spinal cord. But at least in those days there was humor. Did uncle Herman could insult the most puritan because he adapted the Empire of the Senses in his New Year’s program with the sentence “Ai ele é isso? Então vou já dar uma à velha”? No one cared. Did the same comedian could decide that, in the last emission of the contest Roda da Sorte, he should fire gunshots against the prises at stake? He simply fired! Why? Because he could. Even after he had already seen a primetime TV show being cancelled by RTP’s Administration Council due to Entrevistas Históricas. Today, we are the Social Administration Councils. We arm ourselves with our opinion, which we think is inviolable, we give it on social media, even when no one requested it, as if we were PhDs in all the so-called controversial issues, and we defend it tooth and nail to the point that we make ourselves look like something that, a few years ago, and a lot less mature, we would not dare to look like. Just read the comment section of the news published on the Facebook page of the main journals and wait to be blown away by all the stupidity. If anyone dares to make a joke about any subject, right away emerge the Cedofeita mormons, the Seventh Day Adventists with Constipation, the Pre-Menstrual Syndromes, the so-called Insulted Virgins, but insulted by the break of the hymen on another person’s body. And, even so, the kids look, right from the top of their memes that only they understand. You know why? Because they are of a refinement that we have refused to follow. We have not stagnated. We have regressed. So much!

On the last September 14, Norm Macdonald died with just 61 years old. From cancer, of course. Something that he had joked about so many times. Yes, we was the master of caustic humour. Born in Canada, he made a career in stand up, played some minor roles in movies, wrote the scripts of some big comedies, but became memorable as the pivot of Weekend Update, the sketch that been airing the longest on the show Saturday Night Live from SNL, that makes fun of the news of the week. Norm did it like no one could, from 1994 to 1997, and became known as “the only one who turned that into something funny” by all his colleagues. To what cost? “Just now a news story came out that guarantees that Madonna once spread peanut butter over JFK Jr's body and then licked it off. Which just goes to show that Madonna is a slut.” Just an example. And also about the same: “We want to congratulate Madonna, who gave birth to a beautiful baby girl last Monday. The baby weighed 3kg, which makes her the fourth largest object to pass through the singer's reproductive canal”. All this in primetime. Have you imagined? But do not think that Madonna, who was untouchable in the 90s, was the only target: “This weekend, Michael Jackson got married for the second time in a secret ceremony in Australia. When asked about what makes this bride such a special woman, the King of Pop exclaimed 'she taught me the power of imagination', like imagining that a grown woman is a ten-year-old boy” or “Michael Jackson says he does not care if his unborn child is a boy or a girl. As long as it is a boy. He also says that if it is a girl he will call her Sharon and if it is a boy he will have sex with him”, these are just two examples that show how acid Norman could be. And he was it always while smiling like those children that are perfectly aware of the consequences of their acts. But it was the 90s. No one could destroy a comedian’s career on social media the next day, to the point it became viral and could, lastly, dictate the end of a career. But let’s not stop here. “A recent study shows that 56% of minor road accidents are caused by women, and that 75% of fatal collisions are caused by men. Don't believe the percentages shown here, because the calculation was made by a woman. And if you find this joke offensive know that it was written by a woman. Just kidding. We don't employ women”… Yes, this man’s life would end here, under accusations of misogyny. Even though it was nothing like that. Norm “simply” shot at every direction, where he knew it would hurt: “In his book, O.J. Simpson says that he would have died for his wife Nicole. It is really bad luck, when the only man who would save her turns out to kill her” or “I was watching a figure skating competition and I can't believe there could be tighter suits than those. I noticed a German female athlete in which you could see the contour of her penis”. In 1997, Norm Macdonald was fired because, allegedly, “he was not funny”. In 2007, he was invited to be the main host of the Saturday Night Live. He refused. And mentioned it: “If I was not funny and now I am, something is wrong. A person does not learn to be funny in just 10 years. I am still not funny. It is the Saturday Night Live that is just shitty.”

In Portugal, Rui Sinel de Cordes was forced to leave social media. Surprisingly, the Portugal of the 21st century proved to be, at least on social media, a pit of bile grown by hatred based on principles that were simply disgusting. The man was humiliated in a way as vile as the authors of so many autos or songs of mockery and malice in the Middle Age could never do. It does not mean that it was easy humor. It takes some resilience to be able to hear roast-type jokes without feeling ashamed for their targets. Like when the songwriter and pianist Bernardo Sassetti, whose death, in 2012, shocked Portugal, served for, in 2015, Rui Sinel de Cordes to create a series of shows performed in the Villaret Theatre called This Was Supposed To Be With Sassetti. We ask for those who have a greater sensibility to feel easily hurt to skip the next few lines… “Lately, my 12-year-old niece has been coming to my house to spend the entire day with me. Every time she comes, she spends the whole day crying. The question I ask myself is this: does my sperm taste that bad?” or “Germany was elected the country with the highest hotel capacity in Europe. I am not surprised. You only have to look at history to realize that Germany has experience in cramming a lot of people into tight spaces” or yet “the St Bernard is a dog that had everything to do well in an academic music group. It is fat, always carries a barrel of alcohol with him, and can swim”, about the students that died on a Meco beach. Sometimes he can reach a point where few dare to even come close to: “I do not understand why some people spend so much money on prostitutes. If I want to pay for sex, I would rather give money to people I usually give to. To the security guard at the morgue”, and he usually does it regarding a fresh subject: “Renato Seabra's mother says that her son would be incapable of strangling Carlos Castro. Here is something my mother would never say about me”. Sinel de Cordes does not have, like Norm Macdonald (Madonna, Michael Jackson e O.J. Simpson) favourite targets. He shoots at every direction, preferably with really short jokes: “When the former football player Calado gets married, the guests will eat ham with what?”, “in Somalia, what does the horoscope says in that section about Health, Love and Money?”, “if euthanasia is not legal in Portugal, how do you explain ‘Natal dos Hospitais’?” or yet “if I were a pedophile, I would make out with Vanessa Fernandes, the one from the triathlon. No jail time and it is still a 14 year old boy's body”. Without social media, it is extremely hard to keep track of the shows that Rui Sinel de Cordes presents in Portugal. But it is important to stay alert to them, because it would be good for this country to broaden its mentality and be more receptive to caustic humor. Even if the next day everyone goes to social media crying because the man talked about cancer, pedophiles and necrophilia. After all, it is like those warnings that Ricky Gervais does to the audience during the Golden Globes ceremony, broadcasted on NBC, which he usually hosts after an invite from the Hollywood Press Association (God knows why): “It is just jokes, I do not care”. There goes a man with uncommon sensibility. A restless fighter for Animal Rights and author of series (and movies) as funny as deeply moving, from laugh to compulsive cry, like After Life or the unbelievably beautiful Derek, he manages to have the uncommon courage to look in the eyes of the biggest actors in the world and insult them right there from the stage. To make extremely sharp critiques to the organisation. And to that world which represents an hypocrisy that only him knows out to point out in such a stinging way. Surprisingly, he was again invited to be the host of the ceremony. Five times, when you count them all. In the last one, and because it really was, he warned that he did not care at all about what would the consequences of his jokes be. For those who are not familiar with Ricky Gervais’ style, always characterised by his pint o’beer and his perfect British accent, here is a short list, following the order of the Golden Globes cerimonies. In the 67th Ceremony, in 2009: “Seeing all these faces here reminds me of all the great work that has been done this year... by plastic surgeons”; “if there is one thing that cannot be bought, it is a Golden Globe. Officially”; “The Golden Globes ceremony is shown all over the world. It does not look at race or believes. It does not just celebrate talent, it celebrates difference. It crushes prejudice and stereotype. One stereotype that I hate is the one that says that all Irish people are drunks, swearers, and abusive. Please welcome Colin Farrell”. In the next year, the opening speech became known, mostly because after his first presentation, in the previous year, the whole world was with their eyes glued to the screen: “Welcome to the 68th Golden Globes, it is going to be a night of hard partying and lots of drinking, or as Charlie Sheen calls it, breakfast. It has been a great year for 3D cinema, except for The Tourist. And I feel bad for this joke because I have not even seen The Tourist. Who has seen it, really? I also want to deny the rumor that the only reason it was nominated was so that the Hollywood Foreign Press could hang around LA with Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie. That is nonsense. They also took bribes. Actually, what happened was that they were invited to see a Cher concert. How is that a bribe: ‘Hi, do you want to go to a Cher concert?’, ’No’, ‘Why?’, ‘Because we are in 1975’. But there are also great films that were not nominated.... Nothing for Sex and the City 2? I think there should be an award for special effects. My congratulations to whoever photoshopped the poster. Girls, we know your real age. I saw one of you in an episode of Bonanza. There is also no nomination for I Love You Phillip Morris. Two straight actors, Ewan MacGregor and Jim Carrey, pretending to be gay. Which is the opposite of a certain Scientologist. The next guest is known for his performances in Hudson Hawk, Look Who's Talking and The Fifth Element. Please welcome Ashton Kutcher's stepfather Bruce Willis” (…) “The next guest, Eva Longoria, had the difficult task of introducing the President of the Hollywood Foreign Press. That is nothing. I have just been helping him stand up from the toilet and fitting his denture”. Yes, this was the level with which the ceremony ended: “Thank you to everyone here, at home, thank you to NBC, thank you to Hollywood Foreign Press for the invitation, and thank God for making me an atheist.” In the 69th Edition, the most amazing sentence was: “For those who do not know, the Golden Globes are just like the Oscars, but without all the… Esteem. The Golden Globes are to the Oscars like Kim Kardashian is to Kate Middleton. A little louder, a little more hysterical, a little drunker, and a more easily bought”, and, because he thought he had had a “weaker” presentation, he introduces himself, after a hiatus, in the 73th Edition with this: “You are all rich celebrities, you are global stars with incredible talent, most of you, others just married the right person, you know who you are. This year I am going to be nice because the president of the Hollywood Foreign Press just told me that if I say anything offensive, he will come on stage and personally remove me from here. It is an offer I could never refuse. Yes, that's the level we are at. An old man taking me out of here. Again. There have been many remakes made with actresses, Ghostbusters, Oceans Eleven, which is great for the industry, as it guarantees profits by paying them only half the money. Shut up, I do not care. If you win tonight, remember, nobody cares about that award as much as you do. Do not get too emotional. It is embarrassing. That award is, no offence, useless. It is a piece of metal that a confused old journalist wanted to give you personally so he could meet you and take a selfie with you. I have three. One is for the door not to close, the other is to beat up thieves, and the other I keep on my bedside table. I don't really know why, but it does not matter because it is mine. I won it fairly and it has the perfect shape and size. So if there was any doubt, this joke was about sticking Golden Globes up your ass. And I was asked to be the host of this four times”. Lastly, the 77th Edition: “You will be happy to know that this is the last time I will be hosting this ceremony. So I really do not care anymore. I am kidding. I never really wanted to know. Kevin Hart was fired by the Oscars for making some offensive tweets. Lucky me, the Hollywood Foreign Press can barely speak English. All the big stars are here, Al Pacino, Robert De Niro, Baby Yoda, oh wait, it is Joe Pesci. Nobody cares about movies anymore, nobody goes to the movies anymore, everybody wants Netflix. All the great actors are now on Netflix, because in cinema everyone is making fantasy movies and wearing capes. Their job is no longer acting, it is putting on flashy suits, going to the gym twice a day and using steroids. Martin Scorsese, the greatest living movie director, appeared on the news due to his controversial comments about Marvel movies. He said they are not cinema and remind him of theme parks. I agree. Even though I do not know what is he doing in theme parks because he is not tall enough for roller coasters. Irishman was a fantastic movie. Long, but fantastic. And it is not the only one. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood was almost three hours long. Leonardo DiCaprio went to the premiere, and by the time the movie was over, his date was too old for him. The world can see James Cordon as a fat pussy and he was also in the movie Cats. Fortunately nobody saw it. I read horrible reviews. But then Judi Dench defended the movie saying that that was the role she was born to play. Why (laughter and a "I can't do this next joke"), there is nothing I love more than lying on the carpet, lifting my leg and licking my own pussy.” (…) “The companies you work for, my God, Apple, Amazon, Disney, if ISIS started a streaming service, you would call your agent, wouldn't you? So if you win an award today, do not use it to make a political speech. You are not in the position to lecture the public about anything. You do not know anything about the real world. Most of you have spent less time in school than Greta Thunberg. So if you win, come here, accept the prise, thank your agent and your God, and get the hell out of here. This has lasted long enough”. 

Not wanting to go too far, it is precisely these types of people that are the true heroes. There is nothing that does more for our freedom than humour. And there were times when dictatorships, through censorship, limited it. I never thought I would be alive to see that it is us, as a society, that move the hate to kill it.

Originally translated from The Underground Issue, published October 2021.Full credits and stories on the print issue.