I have never watched the sitcom Chewing Gum. Nor, from any of the descriptions I have read of it, including those referenced in the Guardian‘s latest example of Crap Journalism, have I any wish to.
It may be extremely funny. I may be doing myself a monstrous disservice and denying myself something killingly funny. It may indeed be very good. It just doesn’t suggest itself to me as something that I am likely to find funny, which is a reasonable assumption, because I am not the target audience for this brand of humour.
Be that as it may. Enjoy it, please do. Just don’t fucking tell me that this is the future of comedy, because it isn’t and its never going to be.
Because it’s that same old crap journalism fault I’ve called out a few times before, the inane escalation of your personal tastes into some universal law. Chewing Gum might be your future of comedy, in which case I feel extremely sorry for you, not because I might think it a bit crap, or a lot crap, because I have no idea and couldn’t care less, but don’t try to tell me that the future of comedy can be forced down so narrow a channel into so restricted a future, because no future is like that, and your stupidity in thinking that everything can be arranged around the narrowness of your preferences disqualifies you from having the right to expressing an opinion.
The future of comedy is what it always has been: so broad that nobody can restrict it to one, single path. It’s Crap Journalism of the purest kind to even suggest it can, and it reflects your own stupidity to think that you won’t ever find something that veers from this template funny again.
It’s not even the first future of comedy, and I mean things that did change the world of comedy as we saw it. The Goon Show changed the face of comedy. But Galton and Simpson still wrote Hancock and Steptoe and Son. Monty Python changed the face of comedy. But Dad’s Army ran for a decade.
Crap Journalism really gets up my nose.