It’s a joke. When you give me that look, it’s a joke.
— Krusty the Clown, The Simpsons
This post goes up on April 1. April Fools’ Day. A day known around the world for practical jokes, hoaxes, and pranks. One of the most famous is the Spaghetti Tree Hoax of 1957 in which the BBC showed a film in their Panorama current affairs series that purported to show Swiss farmers harvesting freshly-grown spaghetti.
It’s my third least favourite day of the year, after Halloween and November 5 (Bonfire Night here in the UK). I hate the chaotic uncertainty, the overturning of trust, and the sly nastiness of many of the pranks. I’m nevertheless expected to find them amusing or risk reproval for lacking a sense of fun. In the fourteenth episode of the fourteenth season of The Simpsons (“Mr Spritz Goes to Washington”) Krusty the Clown stuns the Simpsons family by claiming “For a thousand [dollars] I can have someone whacked.” Responding to their astonished silence he declares, “It’s a joke. When you give me that look, it’s a joke.” Anyone who’s found themself the butt of dubious pranks will recognise the perpetrator’s defence. It wasn’t me. It’s you. Get a sense of humour.
Opinion on April Fools’ Day is divided. The replies to my online request for contributions split roughly fifty-fifty for and against.
I like practical jokes about as much as I like board games.
— Fran
Love it ...
— Charlotte
I have to say I’m not a fan, unless it’s just a silly online post or something. I don’t like proper in person kind of pranks, they make me nervous. I’m far too boring!
— Angela
We do lots of jokes. One of my friends had an incident recently at work whereby her foot got mildly bitten. She told me the next day it had gone all black and she was in A&E. She sent me a photo and I believed it. Turned out I was the only one of us that didn’t realise it was AI!
— Louise
I hate the idea and having seen a lot of “jokes” that are actually cruel and not funny, just apparently allowed bad use of stigma because the day says so, in my opinion it is worse than Valentine’s day.
— Robyn
I’m a prankster 24/7 verbally and behaviourally!
— Paul
As to April Fools, I don’t think about it much. I don’t play practical jokes on people and no one plays them on me. I don’t know that I’d be opposed to having a joke played on me, provided it wasn’t too bizarre and didn’t make me feel bad. If it’s funny and I laugh at it, I don’t see the harm. But April First doesn’t mean much to me.
— Jen
Is the prank clever and genuinely funny in a way that is self-deprecating, or at least punches up instead of down? Corporate April Fool’s posts tend to be easy to spot because we are looking for them, so at least they should be funny.
— Cal
A long-time friend of mine loves practical jokes at any time of year. Some that she’s described to me seem innocent enough. Others, played by her on her family and by her family on her, strike me as malign, even borderline cruel. They’re not the kind of thing I’d ever find funny or want played on me. I remember a school friend who routinely tried to slam doors in my face. I learned to place one foot firmly on the floor so the door would bounce harmlessly away from me. I do it to this day though I’ve not seen him in fifty years.
Another friend described how her father would tease customers at the grocery store where he worked. “You know when you buy milk, there’s the back room and you load the milk from behind it so customers get it from the front? Dad would watch from behind when a customer would attempt to grab a carton and then hold onto the milk from the back so the customer couldn’t pull it away.” I told her if someone did that to me as a customer, I’d never shop there again! She commented that practical jokes can be fun, “as long as you’re not hurting someone or taking a shot at their self-esteem.” I get that, but you can’t know for certain you’re not upsetting someone with your “innocent” japes.
I remember an online prank that was popular some years ago. Those taking part would suddenly “reveal” on the first of April that they were gay or pregnant, to the astonished reactions of family and friends. “April Fool!” they’d declare smugly afterwards, as though that made everything okay. The gag plays on the supposed shock value of what’s being revealed. It also disregards the feelings of people for whom such topics are the last thing in the world to joke about.
It’s hardly controversial that humour is intensely personal. I’ve never liked slapstick though many do. Pantomimes hold zero appeal. I don’t find clowns especially scary, just unfunny. Derogatory, crass, and gross humour appals me. Growing up in the sixties and seventies I loathed the antics of Dick Emery, Benny Hill, and On the Buses. The same goes for Brenda O’Carroll’s Mrs. Brown’s Boys although I know at least one person who loves the show. I’m not wholly consistent in my preferences. I still enjoy some of the Carry On films that originally aired between 1958 (Carry On Sergeant) and 1992 (Carry On Columbus).
I detest humour that exploits difference or disability. In 2018 I attended a local mental health event. Amongst the performers was a comedian who got laughs at the expense of one of my friends. I was informed afterwards that it was all part of the act and I ought to have found it funny. I didn’t and neither did my friend. Taking the rise out of people isn’t my idea of humour.
That said, the line between edgy and crass isn’t always clearly defined. I’ve watched performances by American stand-up comedian Matt Rife whose audiences often include people with disabilities. His career has courted controversy and I find some of his material hard to laugh along with, but he seems to gauge his audience well. My unease highlights something I’ve long believed. People with lived experience get to express themselves in any way they see fit. If you live with mental illness, for example, you get to make jokes about it at your own expense. As someone on the outside, I don’t get to do that.
Done well, comedy can bridge the divide. American comedian Taylor Tomlinson frequently references her mental health in her act. One of her stand-up routines affects me each time I watch it. Arm Floaties is close to flawless. In just over two minutes it captures so much of what I’ve learned about mental health from Fran and my other friends. It touches on several important themes, the chief of which is personal responsibility. Fran expressed it well. “It’s about feeling accepted and understood,” she told me. “Comedy works when there’s a circle of inclusion.”
I’ll close with something I’ve written about before. Thanks, I’m Cured! The Big Red Button and What (Not) to Say When Your Friends Need Help was inspired by a brilliant spoof mental health infomercial by VLDL (Viva La Dirt League). Watch the video first. If you squirm a little, you’re in good company.
Whether you love the chaotic uncertainty of April Fools’ Day or loathe it as much as I do, I wish you a day of good humour and gentle smiles. Keep an eye on the time, because as all true April Fools’ Day aficionados know, once that clock ticks past noon it’s over for another year.
Over to You
I’ve shared my thoughts about April Fools’ Day and humour more generally, especially in relation to mental health. I’ve also shared contributions from others. But what do you think about it? Do you love pranks or find the whole thing silly, stressful, or triggering? Which comedy shows and comedians make you laugh? We’d love to hear from you, either in the comments below or via our contact page.
Photo by Jason Leung at Unsplash.
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