Staff Reports
In the ever-entertaining world of politics, sometimes real life mirrors a comedy skit—but only, ironically, when actual comedians are at a loss for jokes. Imagine this: late-night television, once the bastion of sharp political satire, now struggling to eke out a chuckle. It seems in today’s overly earnest landscape, there’s little room left for the self-deprecating humor of yesteryear, when both sides of the political aisle had their turn in the comedy spotlight. But post-woke, even the luminaries of humor, like Stephen Colbert or Jimmy Kimmel, find themselves adrift. Oh, the hilarity that isn’t!
Hollywood, in its infinite wisdom, seems stuck in a rut, grasping at anything that might revive a golden era when Saturday Night Live was a must-watch instead of a yawn-fest. Instead of fresh jokes, we see retreads of old characters and sketches, but these modern interpretations just don’t land. One might think they’d channel those biting sketches from the early 2000s that made everyone squirm and laugh simultaneously. After all, back then, nobody and nothing was too sacred to joke about.
Enter the new approach—a tired twist on the Sarah Palin persona, except this time the character is railing against a government shutdown. Now, if imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then clearly some folks in D.C. should feel very flattered indeed. Our character is a brunette claiming to be the rare sort listened to by Donald Trump. How original! Instead of clever wit, we get a gag about how the government agents, working without pay, are in it for the “love of the game.” Cue the collective eye-roll.
The punchlines, or lack thereof, echo through the screen like a bad joke at a family dinner. One might ask, is this where comedy comes to die? Yet, lo and behold, the real kicker is perhaps unintentional comedy itself. It turns out the best use of this little dust-up was showcasing it in a manner more amusing than intended—like the Trump administration purportedly using the sketch for recruitment ads for ICE. Who knew a parody could turn into recruitment material?
So here we are, in a world where political entertainment tries too hard to tickle our funny bones and just ends up poking us in the eye instead. The real jesters are the folks unwittingly turning skits into strange reality. Who knew seeking humor in modern politics would lead to such serious consequences? Yet, at the end of the day, perhaps that’s what makes it all strangely amusing—a comedy of errors, both onscreen and off.
