A WOMAN WALKS INTO A BAR…
I HAVE SEEN MANY THINGS on comedy stages over the years: fights, sweat, a fully naked man rigid beneath a spotlight with a whole lemon in his mouth, fibreglass heads, people miming cunnilingus, guns, melons, testicles, keytars and a man with a rucksack full of ice. But when Hannah Gadsby announced during her show Nanette that she was no longer doing self-deprecating jokes, I was shocked. I felt uneasy, surprised and strange.
It is a simple enough statement, on the surface: no self-deprecating jokes. Nomore easy pickings about your appearance, your hair, your outfit, your disastrous Tinder chat, what a mess you are in social situations. How you’re crap (or lazy) in bed, your weight, your voice, your gender, your leg length, your accent – your general, total failure in all aspects of life. Gadsby is not going to play that game anymore. She is no longer going to surrender
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