That quiet girl that sits in the front of the class and barely participates in discussion or group activities might not be as shy as she appears, but suffers from over-active-sarcasm and lives in constant fear that she will offend someone when she opens her mouth. The possibility that her humor won’t be funny to classmates or professors causes her to glance downward as she stifles a giggle in the middle of a lecture, making her appear extremely reserved.
The fact that not everybody understands sarcasm suggests a boundary that separates those who understand sarcasm and those who do not. Scrolling through articles, Psychology Today, study after study, research paper after research paper, I found to my dismay many negative articles on my favorite form of communication, sarcasm. My defense mode kicked in, motivating me to write this. I wondered is sarcasm all bad?
Next, I grabbed “The Official Dictionary of Sarcasm” by James Napoli, Executive Vice President of the National Sarcasm Society (yes, there is a sarcasm society). This is a guide for all your sarcastic needs; as Napoli states on the back cover, “not that you give a crap” (Napoli). Upon reading this, I felt reassured that sarcasm is humorous—but what exactly is sarcasm?
Sarcasm exists strongly in the English language, making a mark in our daily conversations; creating series of sitcoms, stand-up comedy, and humor columns in the New Yorker; establishing forums on the internet, memes on Facebook, and hashtags on Twitter—almost creating an entirely new language. Yet, not a universal one. So why is sarcasm difficult to understand and why does it have such a bad rep?
No comments :
Post a Comment