We all love cutting edge humour but the report about the tweets sent to Harry Arter last night mocking the birth of his stillborn child are pretty disgusting by even Ball Ox standards. Well - maybe not.
It got me thinking - how do we decide where to draw the line when it comes at attempts at humour. Should anything be off limits?
Knock, Knock.
Who’s there?
Dave.
Dave who?
*Dave proceeds to break into tears as his grandmother’s Alzheimers has progressed to the point where she can no longer remember him
There are limits to my comedy. There are things that I’ll never laugh at. The handicapped. Because there’s nothing funny about them. Or any deformity. It’s like when you see someone look at a little handicapped and go ‘ooh, look at him, he’s not able-bodied. I am, I’m prejudiced.’ Yeah, well, at least the little handicapped fella is able-minded. Unless he’s not, it’s difficult to tell with the wheelchair ones.
that’s what I think of your selection policy, yes I’ve hit the odd copper, yes I’ve enjoyed the old dooby, but will you piss off and leave me alone, I’m walking to John O’Groats for some spastics
Bit of a difference telling a joke about a dead celebrity and telling a joke about a dead kid directly to their father. Id draw the line there, at mocking people who are recently bereaved