Bo Burnham: Inside
My therapist and I talk a lot about cynicism. The world is on fire and news of the burn is getting delivered right to our hands, minimal effort. An understanding of that is a slippery, spiraling slope further and further towards rock bottom. I don't live that way. People have, and people continue to live that way, and I commend them, but I can't. It's not sustainable. I understand, sure, but I can't let myself spiral. So, I joke. I make light, no matter how dim, because I refuse to spiral uncontrollably. My classic line is, "Well, it could be worse." Yeah, it could be. It always could be. At rock bottom? "Well, it could be worse. It could also be raining." Here's the thing: I'm so angry. I'm so angry at the choices made by my so-called "elected" officials, I'm angry watching children get kidnapped from their schools and families violently broken apart at the border, I'm angry that now even the best doesn't seem good enough. I could be a real asshole. It would be a lot easier. I'd probably feel better. My empathy is bumming me out, but I'm an empathetic person. It's a real paradox.
If I don't laugh, I'll cry. Life is too damn serious to not crack a joke or two. I'm sure other people have similar feelings to me on the state of the world; seeing as anyone can tune into a TikTok livestream of Gaza being bombed from the comfort of their own bed. I feel like shit. All that being said, if it ever gets to be too much, if you ever find yourself in a house filling with smoke, call me. I'll tell you a joke. We could all use a laugh at a time like this.