By Anthony Deyal
“Don’t worry,” my friend told me. “This coronavirus wouldn’t last long. It was made in China.” Given the seriousness of the situation, I was stunned for a moment and then I realised that humour continues to be the best and, many times, the only possible response to fear and danger. As the New York Times pointed out in an article headlined “It’s OK to Find Humor in Some of This”, throughout history, even in the darkest times, humour has played a major role as a psychological salve and shared release.
After the Titanic disaster, the discussion on how to stop that happening again included the importance of making icebergs smaller. When an Italian chef in a New York restaurant died, the regulars found humour the best way to deal with the situation. Comments included, “He pasta way. He just ran out of thyme. Here today, gone tomato. His wife is still upset, cheese still not over it. We never sausage a tragedy coming. Ashes to ashes, crust to crust. There’s just not mushroom for Italian chefs in today’s world.”
There is a joke about the ease of buying guns in the US. At a bus stop in Washington DC, a cop, a nurse, a man in a suit, a philosopher and a priest were waiting. The cop asked, “Is this the right bus stop to Congress hill?” The man in the suit said it was and the cop continued, “Good. As it happens, there was this school shooting incident last week; I was first on-site, I shot the gunman, and the Congress wants to hear exactly what happened.”
The Nurse spoke up, “Me too. I was the first responder as a paramedical nurse, and they asked me to tell my story, so they can understand the scale of human tragedy.” Then the man in the suit said, “I’m going there too, I’m a lawyer.” The nurse responded, “Wow, are they finally planning to change the gun laws now, or what?” The lawyer replied, “Yes. I represent the National Rifle Association (NRA) and I am taking along my friends professor Keller and Father Joseph with me to let them know that this is not a time to discuss gun control, this is a time for thoughts and prayers.”
These days of COVID-19 are for many, a time for thoughts and prayers but also for jokes — lots of them. The memes and quips are like the Energiser bunny in reverse — they just keep on coming and coming.
There was this “Breaking News” report. Apparently, the first person in Melbourne has died because of the coronavirus. In his house, they found 1,000 cans of food, 50 kilos of pasta, 80 kilos of rice, 300 toilet rolls, and 50 liters of hand sanitiser which he had panic-purchased from the supermarket and stockpiled “just in case”. The whole lot collapsed and buried him. Another “Newsflash” announced, “The World Health Organization (WHO) has issued a statement that animals cannot transmit coronavirus and that all animals, including dogs, should be released from quarantine. ‘WHO Let the Dogs Out.’ In the meantime, Germany is completing its preparation for the crisis by ensuring it has a six-month supply of sausage and cheese.
It’s a Würst Käse scenario. Then there is the Classified Ad: “Single man with toilet paper seeks woman with hand sanitizer for good clean fun.” I know at least one more great joke about coronavirus. You probably won’t get it though.
According to The New York Times, “Throughout history, humour has played a role in the darkest times, as a psychological salve and shared release. Large swaths of the population are living in isolation, instructed to eye with suspicion any stranger who wanders within six feet. And coronavirus jokes have become a form of contagion themselves, providing a remaining thread to the outside world for the isolated — and perhaps to sanity itself.” As an example, the newspaper quotes a recent meme, “A year from now, you’ll all be laughing about this virus. Not all of you obviously.”
Perhaps the most interesting development of all is the emergence and compulsory use of masks of all different makes, models, shapes, sizes, and colours. While this is a global necessity, in Trinidad and Tobago it has taken on a completely different spin. Here, the Speaker of the House of Representatives insists that all MPs should wear black masks.
Her explanation was that black maintained the “sober” colour of the dress code of the institution. Some people thought that the colour was deliberately chosen because, in the racial division that now increasingly characterises Trinidad and Tobago politics, the ruling party represents people of African descent and it is her way of emphasising a remark made a few years ago by one of the government ministers that it was their time now.
Others thought that the word “sober” was a snide snipe at the leader of the opposition. I see it differently. The black mask became popular because of its use in the 18th Century by highwaymen in Britain. They would demand, at gunpoint, that their victim, “Stand and Deliver”. This is exactly what parliamentarians do. Then there is the super-villain “Black Mask” in Batman who is a brutal and ruthless crime lord fixated on masks and who derives sadistic pleasure from the act of torture.
Given that the Speaker, from the height of her self-importance, as early as January 31, refused to allow an opposition request to debate the virus issue because it was supposedly not important enough, perhaps “Black Mask” was right when he said, “Know that the mask destroys one identify while creating another! Know that the mask recreates the wearer.
Know that through the sublimation of personality, inhibitions die — and deeper drives, more primitive instincts, are brought to the surface.” Perhaps this is what singer George Benson meant about being “Lost In The Masquerade.”
Or, as in the case of so many of us, lost in the jokes. What do you call a skeleton with a mask and a knife? A heartless killer. With all this talk of coronavirus, the people who make sanitising gel are rubbing their hands together. They said that a mask and gloves were enough to go to the supermarket. They lied, everyone else has clothes on. And finally, if the coronavirus isn’t about beer, why do I keep hearing about cases of it?
*Tony Deyal was last seen quoting the New York Times subscriber. Yesterday my supply of toilet paper was exhausted. Times are really rough.
