A thought I’m frequently comforted by is the realization that most of my fellow humans understand the absurdity of life. It’s a truism that shines through in the jokes people create when there’s nothing outwardly funny about their circumstances. Take, for example, the humorous anecdotes that Soviet citizens crafted under Stalin, a topic explored in this 1957 journal article. Comedy rarely gets much darker:
A peasant on a collective farm, visiting an exhibition, is shown a radio station powerful enough to be heard in foreign countries, even in America. He pleads for permission to speak over the station and is finally given permission to say just one word. Stepping up to the microphone he shouts “Help!” with all the power of his voice.
I’m now motivated to delve into the literature the jokes that North Koreans tell each other in those rare moments when they’re sure no one’s listening. I refuse to believe that even the most suffocating form of totalitarianism can snuff out our species’ desire for levity.
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