I don’t really watch The Simpsons anymore.
That said, I didn’t exactly “Hah!” when I heard that Marcia Wallace, the voice actor for Edna Krabappel, had died. It didn’t provoke any particular feeling. I hadn’t thought about her in a long time, and the whole show has sort of been off my radar for a while. So I didn’t really think about it very much.
Then, I read about the opening to a recent Simpsons episode. Bart, still doodling on his chalkboard as long as both my brothers have been alive. Except his message is a simple and heartfelt farewell to Mrs. K.
And that’s awesome.
In real life, anyway.
I’ve found that black comedy suits my personality to a tee. Looking at the world, all its ugliness and stupidity, and choosing to laugh. It speaks to something inside me, that asshole nugget buried deep (or not very deep at all, depending on who you ask). It’s a perfect fusion of the masks of comedy and tragedy – somewhere between a frown and a smirk. I laugh without compromising my pessimism.
There’s few other genres that make me cringe as much as I laugh. Or even do both at the same time. It only happens when I really care about the characters. If my life has had one constant, it’s that ‘it’s easy to hate people,’ but that’s the difference. Everyone’s bad here, which makes the whole thing a lot more relative in who I can root for. No matter how vile, despicable, or just plain old fucked up, every character is deserving of love if handled correctly.