When Satire Goes Wrong (or Not)

The other day, something weird happened. On Roger Ebert's web site, a post sprang up entitled "Creationism: Your questions answered." It was a Q&A session that worked through many typical creationist claims. It all sounded a little odd, particularly the last Q & A:

Q. Why would God create such an absurd creature as a moose?

A. In charity, we must observe that the moose probably does not seem absurd to itself.

WTF, right? Had Roger gone apeshit? Was his site hacked? Was it all a weird joke.

Turns out, it was option 3, as Ebert explains in a post on his blog:

What was my purpose in posting the article? Can you think of a famous Creationist? Perhaps I was trying to helpfully explain what Creationists believe. The article, although brief, was accurate as far as I could determine, which explains why there have been no complaints from Creationists. What was there to complain about? Nor have I received any praise from Creationists, which speaks well for their instincts; they're apparently more canny than the evolutionists who believe I have lost my mind.

But the purpose of this blog entry is not to discuss politics (a subject banned from the blog). Nor is it to discuss Creationism versus the theory of evolution (that way lurks an endless loop). It is to discuss the gradual decay of our sense of irony and instinct for satire, and our growing credulity.

In other words, it was a joke and lots of people weren't swift enough to catch on. Who's to blame - the audience for not catching on or Ebert for not being a better satirist. PZ Myers leans towards the latter, arguing that Ebert's attempt at satire failed because it's almost impossible to tell his "satire" from the real ravings of creationists. I don' think that's quite right. There are hints, aside from the moose question, that it isn't quite on the level.

But the reaction to Ebert's piece (and his reaction to the reaction) got me thinking about the nature of satire and the danger that it will go over like a lead balloon. Doing so reminded me of two movies I blogged about earlier this year, Network and Dr. Strangelove. Both are satires, but they exist on opposite ends of the satirical spectrum.

Network is broad, bizarre, and at the very edge of plausibility. What it portrays is a caricatured version of reality that some folks won't recognize. In fact, I think that's the key to whether you like the film - if you can't suspend disbelief for large hunks of the movie, it just seems silly.

By contrast, Strangelove is (mostly) dry, subtle, and more rooted in reality. The humor (and the horror, in that case) comes not from exaggerating real life, but simply putting it all in once place so that the absurdity of it overwhelms you. You initially laugh at General Turgidson's advice on how to win an accidental nuclear war ("I'm not saying we won't get our hair mussed . . ."), but eventually you realize that real people make that argument, in a more dignified way, all the time.

If the danger of Network is that it's so over the top it becomes off putting, the danger of Strangelove is that the humor never gets recognized. That's what I think happened with Ebert's creationism piece. Though there is evidence there that folks should see the "invisible quotation marks" (as Ebert puts it), it's not right up front. Certainly there's nothing like the word "satire" superimposed over a scene, Python style.

And that's the danger of satire. You're never quite sure how much of your audience will get it. Since whether they do get it is, ultimately, your job, it's best to proceed cautiously.