“Alrighty vro, wrap it up.”
These are the first words of the Solanas Petition, started in 2020 by Jamie Llanwellyn, a women’s rights activist, philanthropist and former 20-time tree-throwing champion, to combat the growing deluge of incredibly unfunny, discriminatory podcasts run by aggressively irritating men in their late 30s. The petition stipulates that all male podcasters should be forced to prove their comedic ability before a tribunal of 100 women, who must be made to laugh in a non-awkward manner—“i.e. NOT the type of laugh you make in front of your uncle at Thanksgiving”—or be fined. So far, all of them have failed. The petition has reached 400,000 signatures as of the publication date. Before we jump into why, first, some context.
The Solanas petition is named after women’s rights visionary and non-practicing assassin Valerie Solanas, who (almost) shot and killed Andy Warhol in 1968. Several supporters of the petition have mentioned that they might be a little more inclined to support these podcasters if they had any comedic talent at all. Lacey Wardmantle, fashion model and former writer for the Washington Post—before it got Bezoified—opened up to reporters about her position last Tuesday.
“I know I’m gonna get some hate for this, but I’d totally watch [male podcasters] if they were funny. Let me explain! Like the guys, um wait who are the new ones, Clavicular? He’s kinda cute man, but unfortunately,”
Lacey, like a sleeper agent emerging to lucidity out of a Benadryl-induced coma, suddenly contorted her spine, puffed out her chest and yelled, in perfectly fluent frat-boy:
“AYOOO, he got totally FRAMEMOGGED at ASU!”
“Anyways, if I’m being serious, I think their views are entirely inseparable from their comedy. And I’m not really sure if you can make jokes about women as a guy. It’s kind of like when a gay man calls me a bitch—like, slay queen, do you like pretending to experience others’ oppression? Anyway, uh, I think it depends on how real your comedy is; if you talked about the life I have to live, like having to dress up all pretty so guys at work take me seriously, or deal with guys transforming into ‘Pick-Up Artists’ five minutes after I say I’d like them, I’d totally watch you if you did that. Real stuff like that would be funny as hell. But I don’t think it’s possible for them to be funny and say rancid shit, wait, shit, am I allowed to say that in an interview? Sorry.”
Christina Honestum, Mathematics Professor at I’m-Not-Getting-Sued University said: “I just feel as though I’d be inclined to see these people as somewhat possessing a henceforth-and-presently suppressed comedic talent if they managed to say anything remotely resembling an original idea, but they seem to be incapable of even the slightest amount of critical thinking. Even withstanding the rank offensiveness of their beliefs, and they are indeed offensive, their grand diatribes about the world, and of course, women, are even worse than a paper written by a grad student the night before it’s due using ChatGPT.”
She paused before continuing as if in disbelief that she lived in a world where such a horrid travesty was possible. “How are you worse at understanding things than a glorified calculator that can’t experience the human world, let alone cogitate? You’re having thoughts and you’re somehow doing it the wrong way. I didn’t think that was even possible to do.” Honestum sighed: “Every day you learn something, I guess, and every day you want to forget a little more.”
When presented with this position, Jane Ironheart, a fitness instructor at the YMCA, disagreed extremely—probably not helped by us approaching her while she was out with her friends.
“Jokes like these aren’t funny at all to anyone they make fun of, which I think the guys making them, and the guys laughing at them, don’t get. Notice how they start frothing at the mouth when you make a joke about them. Here’s basically what I’ve gotten in my DMs after doing that.”
Jane told us many surprising things that cannot be published—except maybe the detailed plan she got to turn everyone except for her and her would-be suitor into cheese so she would have to hang out with him—in a dramatic reading that was somehow accompanied by an orchestra and chamber choir, which she conducted. Her friends performed as backup dancers as she did so. It was a real thing; you truly did have to be there.
“So, um, yeah. You know…” Jane laughed, “I, I mean, uh, we, have a concert at 7 p.m. tonight, if you guys wanna come.”
“For free?”
“No, you have to pay extra because you guys accosted me on the street.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Uh, just kidding, I’m not the best at jokes. Yeah, of course dude, for free!”The verdict is in. Men are not funny. Also, you can get free tickets to concerts by being nice to people and running up to them in the street with a microphone. You should try it!