The Lowest Form of Humor

Despite the fact that a friend once told me, "Sarcasm is the lowest form of humor," it continues to be my preferred method of communication.  I also completely disagree with her analysis.  Sarcasm rules, except for when people don't understand it, because then the sarcastic person ends up sounding like a complete asshole at best, and a total raving psycho at worst.

I would love to know how sarcasm evolved within the development of language.  I imagine it took quite awhile for humans to learn how to combine words and gestures in such a way as to effectively communicate exactly what they were trying to get across.  Who was the first person to take it to the next level, combining words and gestures in order to communicate exactly the opposite of what he/she was trying to get across?  Whoever that person was was a freakin' genius.  Kudos to you, early sarcastic human.  You paved the way for humans to confuse the hell out of each other for thousands of years.

I find myself unable to communicate effectively with people who are not fluent in sarcasm.  We never end up getting along.  They think I'm crazy and evil, and I think they're boring, humorless, and quite frankly, not very clever.

I used to work with a social worker who didn't understand sarcasm.  When I meet people, I assume that they will have at least the most basic understanding of sideways communication, but this woman did not even possess that.  And so, unfortunately, this was our introductory conversation, regarding two young children who had recently been removed from their mother's custody:

Social Worker:  She was arrested for a hit-and-run and driving under the influence of meth and alcohol.  She had open containers in the car and her kids in the back seat.

Me:  Wow, that's some stellar parenting!

Social Worker:  [silence] [bewildered look]  Actually, I don't think it's very good parenting at all.

Me:  Oh, um...I was just kidding.

Social Worker:  [silence] [judgmental stare]

No, you just come off as a big weirdo.

Unfortunately for me, I had to modify my communication style during all future conversations with that social worker.  Having to "play it straight" conversationally is incredibly difficult.  It hurts my brain.

It makes me feel just like this.

Sometimes, however, there are situations that absolutely, positively do not call for sarcasm.  Because my knee-jerk reaction is to resort to sarcasm in all situations, I have created some unfortunate scenes.  Like this one, for example:

A student I was working with who suffers from severe anxiety was struggling at school.  When she'd come to me for assistance in the past, I had suggested a schedule change for her, but at that time she'd decided to keep trying to cope with the current schedule.  When she finally hit a wall of overwhelm, she came to my office on the verge of a complete breakdown.  Actually, another student physically brought her into my office because she was so upset that she couldn't even think straight.

Through gasping sobs, the student explained to me that she couldn't continue at the school with her schedule as it was.  Her friend sat next to her protectively, offering her comfort and reassurance.  I reminded the student that we had discussed a schedule change in the past, and she looked up hopefully and said, through her tears, "Can we do that?"  I said [AS A JOKE], "No."  And then she burst into hysterical sobs.  She completely lost it, and I started backpedaling as quickly as I possibly could.

"I was kidding!  I was only kidding!  Yes, of course we can change your schedule.  That's why I brought it up!  It was a joke!  I don't know why I made a joke right then!"

Her protective friend (who was 17 years old, by the way) looked at me skeptically and with thinly-veiled annoyance as she rubbed the student's back, trying to calm her down.  She then remarked, "Uh, yeah.  That really wasn't the right time for your sarcasm."

Oops.