Feb 25, 2011
The universe may be headed toward entropy. Humans, however, seem drawn more toward absurdity. I suppose it is just part of our fallen nature to be bent toward the ridiculous. Call it the karaoke principle: given the choice between obscurity and absurdity, hand us the mic, and we’ll take our fifteen minutes of fame at almost any cost.
Often, the highest level of absurdity follows folly. It seems whenever a public personage has careened off a social normative cliff (which seem to get lower each year), he or she feels a great compulsion to add insult to injury by providing either a ludicrous explanation or a self-aggrandizing admission of guilt. It just seems easier to continue along a path of idiocy than to turn back and humbly say, “Wow! That was dumb.”
The most recent case of this absurdity is US Congressman Christopher Lee’s resignation statement. Instead of quitting by simply declaring that he made a sufficient fool of himself to require stepping out of public eye by falsely claiming to be a single, 39-year-old lobbyist in order to connect with a woman via Craig’s List, he felt compelled to also add, “The challenges we face in Western New York and across the country are too serious for me to allow this distraction to continue, and so I am announcing that I have resigned my seat in Congress effective immediately.”
Clearly, his transgression merits leaving public service. Who wants to trust a guy that is absurd enough to hide being a politician by claiming to be a lobbyist? On top of that, he adds additional absurdity by suggesting that the real issue is that he fears the distraction created by his dalliances may jeopardize Congress’s ability to meet the challenges of Western New York and the country. What ever will the people do without him?
Not all absurdities are uttered in defense of embarrassing mistakes. Some come in the form of bravado or the revealing of too much information. This has been greatly facilitated with the advent of social networks like Facebook and by a mutating press that is slowly replacing relevancy with sensationalism.
In a recent TIME article about the newly-elected mayor of Chicago, Rahm Emanuel, we were treated to a too complete description of Mr. Emanuel’s daily workout as partial proof of his mayoral competency. In summary, according to the magazine, he swims on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at “the elite, perfect-for-networking East Bank Club”. Tuesdays and Thursdays, he uses a bike and an elliptical and does sit-ups. Saturdays, he hikes or jogs. Sundays, he has private yoga instruction.
What am I supposed to take from this absurd amount of detail? Am I supposed to note how incredibly un-Chicagoan he sounds, or be concerned that my 14 year-old son can do a harder workout than Chicago’s new tough guy? I am going to go with, “A private yoga teacher? Really?”
Not to be outdone, The American Red Cross’s recent handling of a rogue tweet provides another excellent example of how social stupidity spawns absurdity. In a tweet heard round the world, an American Red Cross worker announced that her colleagues were uniquely capable drinkers and ready to get “slizzerd.” For those who wisely abstain from using the online “Urban Dictionary” of slang, slizzerd means drunk beyond cognition.
The poetic absurdity of the tweet merits its repeating. This slightly edited rendition is taken from TIME magazine online. “Ryan found two more 4 bottle packs of Dogfish Head's Midas Touch beer....when we drink we do it right…(expletive symbol) getting slizzerd.”
Instead of just stating that the tweet was an embarrassing mistake, the Red Cross reported that the brewery had promised to make a donation and the folks at Twitter had promised to give blood. Red Cross’s PR guru opined victoriously, “While we're a 130-year-old humanitarian organization, we're also made of up human beings. Thanks for not only getting that but for turning our faux pas into something good.”
How absurd to suggest that all is well that ends well when it starts out with someone, who is supposed to be trustworthy in an emergency, professing an exceptional ability at getting blind drunk. There is no silver lining here, just absurdity obscuring accountability.
That is what absurdity has become. It is make-up for any blemish — a useful screen to obscure the real nature of something or someone. Once though, it was just known as nonsense.