Why we should all be Laughanges now

Yesterday, we had a large posse of heavy-eyebrowed highbrows outside our office protesting about the levity regularly churned out in this column. Their contention: in these dark times of war, imminent AI takeover, multibillionaires at the cusp of becoming billionaires overnight, and under-the-influence influencers, we continue to produce 'frolic'. 'It's obscene!' said one angry worthy. But here's our defence: if the world is going to hurl itself into the flaming dumpster of geopolitical disaster and neighbourhood fumes, the least we can do is guffaw while it burns.

'This is no time for laughter!' To which we say, 'This is precisely the time for laughter - preferably the kind that makes you snort tea up your nose and question your dignity.' Sitcoms and romcoms, comic writing, cartoons, absurd social media reels, politicians... these aren't distractions. They're resistance in nitrous oxide. Humour may not disarm tyrants. But it certainly pisses off their minions. It yanks the pants off propaganda, and shows us the spinach in its teeth. And, sometimes - the 'some' increasing in frequency each day - you've headlines that reflect such an absurd reality that you need to take out the bumper sticker that says, 'You can't make this up.' Which is why gallows humour - like galouti kababs - need to keep coming. With grim-faced chutney on the side.