Crippled people are funny. Many of us look funny, sound funny, and are even lucky enough sometimes to intentionally induce laughing fits from our non-cripple comrades. For example, the adaptive piece (the Passy Muir Speaking Valve) I use in my ventilator tubing lets out a hideous duck-mating-call noise when it gets old. I remember that fateful day my junior year of college when all my dreams came true – the universe blessed me with ten glorious minutes of alone time with my Aztec warrior TA. I mastered my nerves like the stoic goddess I am, and initiated an intelligent conversation about Christian influences in Native American origin tales. It was brilliant, flawless. He was completely seduced by my cool demeanor; our auras began circling, sniffing the air for the delicious scent of hormone, when… QUA-ACK. Even the finest moments of seduction can be short-lived, I suppose. I’ve cackled for days just thinking about my older sister attempting to navigate the mean streets of San Diego in her electric wheelchair, drunk off her stationary ass. Once in high school, my friend with CP called her crush over, speaking to him in a hushed tone so he was forced to lean ever closer, and flung her spazzy arm up to grab his tush. Not to promote sexual harassment, but I will say that under the right circumstances it can be quite entertaining.

Genuine laughter is a tell-tale sign of recognition and respect. Now, I’m in no way implying that the asshole pointing and laughing at the old man who just tripped over his walker is illustrating a commendable amount of enlightenment toward the mobility-impaired. No friends, that man is simply an asshole. However, if that same old man was using his walker as a prop in his street rendition of “Step in Time” from Mary Poppins (1964), the asshole would be wrong not to laugh at the old geezer hopping around like Dick Van Dyke on laxatives. Context is everything. When we respond to a comic’s joke with laughter, we acknowledge his/her talent. Very often, we do not fully understand the intricacies of the punch line; we might even be teetering on the edge of being offended, but our respect for his perspective and wittiness keeps us captivated. Unfortunately though, there seems to be a double standard dictating who is allowed to be funny, and who is allowed to laugh. I’ve listened to fairly educated individuals condone the publicity of disabled comedians on Television and the Internet. They label the comedian’s audience as tasteless bigots who enjoy belittling “the less fortunate,” and in turn deny any sense of authority to the comic himself. As if he is a tool for the ill-intent of his spectators, instead of the instigator of joyful noise. Cripples enjoy making people laugh for the same reasons non-cripples do. We need to bring joy to others; we crave the head-rush that accompanies standing in the spotlight; and most importantly, we yearn to be listened to. We are all heard by our peers – most of the time the world crawls along wishing to press the mute button on life. But to be listened to, to have the people around you stop their lives for no other reason than to consume your ideas is a breathtaking feeling. Everyone deserves access to this high at least once in his life. And so I ask, wouldn’t our growth as an equal-opportunity society be illustrated best by our non-discriminatory laughter? 

I understand that it can be difficult to decipher the circumstances behind some situations though. In public it can be especially hard to know when strangers mean to be funny, and when we are simply misinterpreting the queues. As a result, many folks choose to error on the side of caution and swallow down their urge to hoot, rather than react inappropriately to someone’s instant of potential vulnerability. As a result, the good intentions of thousands are compromising our right, nay obligation to rupture in unflattering displays of hilarity.          

This is my round-about way of getting to my point that I recently came upon two very funny cripple-centric sites online. (I’m about to embark on a serious plugging-spree, so brace yourselves.) The first, www.howsyournews.com, is home to the ridiculously brilliant grassroots news program run and operated by mentally and physically disabled reporters. I learned of How’s Your News? (HYN) on Ouch! (http://www.bbc.co.uk/ouch/). Ouch! Is a BBC site that supplies an honest and refreshingly cheeky voice to all things impaired. Anyhow, HYN travels the Country searching for the next big story. They’ve interviewed hardened politicians at conventions, starry-eyed celebrities on the red carpet, and everyday folk on street corners. HYN has developed quite a cult following, and many of their finest moments may be found on YouTube.com. The cast of HYN all have varying degrees of learning difficulties. Their seemingly uncomplicated questions provoke interesting and usually hilarious answers from interview subjects. Case in point, when HYN reporter Sean Costello interviewed The Daily Show’s Rob Corddry, he unearthed the hidden truth behind Corddry’s media success. In response to Costello’s inquiry in to his profession, Corddry replied, “I’m a fake reporter.” I think Costello channeled America’s sentiments perfectly when he then incredulously asked, “You’re what?… Why?” And while I doubt HYN will compete with CNN and FOX NEWS to break sex scandals and confessions of drug addiction, with a reporter like Sean Costello on the front lines we’re sure to get the real story every time.

The other work of genius I discovered is the short film series, Retarded Policeman, on www.mediocrefilms.com. The Retarded Policeman sequence consists of eight short-shorts about a Down syndrome cop who pulls over random citizens for basically any reason he can think of. Josh Perry, the actor who plays our beloved crippled badge, toys with the viewer’s emotions and assumptions about how mentally disabled people interact with their peers. Greg Benson (the writer, director, and founder of Mediocre Films) juxtaposes moments that highlight Perry’s absolute naivety against side-splitting displays of male aggression and arousal. In episode 4, Perry pulls a speeding driver over, not for exceeding the legal driving limit, but for being Black. When the driver tries to convince Perry that he can’t simply pull people over and beat them with his nightstick, Perry rationally explains: “Well maybe you can’t, but I’m LAPD. I have a quota.” I’m not why this works, and is so funny. Perry boldly crosses the “Dead White Man Walking” line, and proves that sometimes it takes one of society’s others to point out the obvious in matters concerning social injustice.

And so I challenge you, my friends, to step up and demand equal-opportunity laughing privileges to and for all Americans. I hope I’ve initiated this 21st Century civil rights movement by raising my voice for The Cause. I vow to risk injury of pulled muscles and cracked ribs as a result of untempered laughing fits just as long as people like the cast of How’s Your News and The Retarded Policeman crack the jokes. Now, join in on this cripple-lovin’-laugh-in, and spread the joyful noise!