57th Street

The New York Times is reporting on the discovery of “a miniature version of our own solar system 5,000 light years across the galaxy.” WNE Labs astronomers have confirmed this report, but have made a shocking discovery. It appears that this lilliputian variant of our celestial neighborhood is located right smack in the “Bizarro Quadrant,” according to lead WNE Labs Scientist Franklin R. Zarathustra.

Though we currently have no means of contacting anyone on “Bizarro Earth,” top Bizzarologists have speculated as to what life on their humble maroon planet would be like. For instance, on Bizarro Earth nearly all the cars are small, fuel-efficient, well-designed, affordable, and all made domestically in Bizarro America. A Bizarro-Chevy would typically last a family of 4 (Bizarro families tend to be small in order to stay within the means of the family and to keep the population at a reasonable number) 135 years, usually becoming an heirloom.

Bizarro America is believed to be a mid-sized country which prides itself on a history of vicious authoritarianism. Blurry Hubble images suggest the existence of a large statue of a man dressed in a suit, with eyes of fire, standing off the coast of Bizarro Manhattan. Radio spectrometry on the statue suggests the existence of an inscription which reads, “Stay the hell away from us, you dirty freaks. I’ll hit you with my big stick. And let that be a lesson to the rest of you!” Ironically, Bizarro America has a small, effective, democratic government which has delivered a balanced budget for the past 298 years. Most of it’s tax money is spent on schools, as well as artistic and scientific endeavors. Bizarro NASA, for instance, is believed to have a space program 235x cooler than our own, and for half the money.

Some terrestrial analysts worry that Bizarro Earth could lay conquest to our home planet, but top brass in the pentagon disagree. Recently declassified reports indicate that the ubiquitous weapon of Bizarro world is the hug, and that wars usually fought in the form of strenuous negotiation or make-out sessions. Images from the Bizarro Middle East show hundreds of violent rioters being pacified by police forces with milk and cookies.

If anything, it would appear that the denizens of Bizarro world have much to fear from us. Highly opinionated, but very civil, the entire planet has excellent taste in art and entertainment. Because of these discrimination standards, it appears that our own entertainment industry is lethal to most Bizarro People. Recently, a misfired transmission from a television satalite accidentally beamed 4000 hours of TV programs directly at the planet. Advanced telemetry hints that this may have killed millions of Bizarros, whose heads exploded when “Friends” and “CSI” interrupted regularly scheduled Bizarro programs.

Scientists fear that our reality television may soon be reaching the planet, as well as our commercial radio, 24-Hour News stations and the FOX network. Widespread hysteria and mass suicide is expected to follow in its wake.

I don’t know how many times I’ve walked out of the theater after watching the latest comedy, whether it be glittery Will Ferrell flagship or intimate indie cockel-warmer, and thought, “That was bullshit!”

I don’t mean by this that the movie wasn’t funny. Nor even that it wasn’t satisfying, in a way. Nor that it has no relation to reality, because what kind of preposterous grumbler would I be if I required all movies (or plays) to wear reality’s grim clothes? What I mean is that no matter how good the movie is, the ending will always be unsatisfying. In fact, in most cases it will border on illogical. And the question becomes for me: Do comedies, in seeking a clean resolution, always have to compromise whatever has come before in terms of character development and plot?

Not that what we would consider “tragedies,” which in a classical sense there are very few of at the multiplex or at theaters today, always meet strict criteria of logic in their endings. Just that it seems like in comedies there is a systematic problem enfolded in the nature of a comedy that makes it impossible to have a logical, and thus, for me, a satisfying ending. This problem is the requirement of a clean resolution.

I’d have to get into particular instances, of course, to truly explore my theme. I don’t have enough space to do that. But consider this: Even Shakespeare’s comedies suffer from this problem. Many times it feels as if Shakespeare uses fifth acts to quickly tie up any loose ends remaining in the plot and marry off all the sonzabitches before the curtain closes. This is particularly true of “The Taming of the Shrew” and “Much Ado About Nothing” but it’s true of all the comedies, more or less. Meanwhile, modern commentators busily chip away at the notion that Shakespeare wanted to have a clean resolution at all. But that’s only because the endings are never satisfying, not necessarily because Shakespeare wanted us to take it another way.

Comedy is suffering, just like tragedy. But comedy is also tragedy averted. So it seems comedy by its very nature wants to have its cake and eat it too: Give me the suffering, but avert the tragedy that usually follows from suffering so I can laugh at it. Do so at any cost: Make the woman who hates her lover fly back into his arms for some reason, etc. Yet as we all know, suffering isn’t always mutable; second chances aren’t always given.

Then again, most of us probably wouldn’t be happy going to the movies to watch unrelieved suffering. So maybe I am just that irrelevant crank again, raving about the reality principle. But it seems interesting to point out that comedies are delicate houses of cards; let one bit of suffering go unrewarded, one bit of love go unrequited, and the whole thing will collapse. We’ll all go home with a bitter taste in our mouths. Some playwrights, screenwriters and directors deliberately let this happen, but don’t tell me you’d rather watch their work than the traditional, pure comedies.

So I go in with some friends to a cafe called Rendez Vous and decide to order cake. I’m attracted to the two chocolate cakes: The Triple Chocolate Cake and the Dark Forest Cake.

me: What’s the difference between the Triple Chocolate and Dark Forest?
Server breaks out laughing: Are you serious?
me: What?
Server: They’re two totally different cakes.
me: They look similar
Server: No they don’t
I point to the labels both of which are in front of the rows of Triple Chocolates
Server: Oh, well, forget it. You win, I lose. You 21, me nothing.

What happened here exactly?