Comedy and disability: in defence of cripple jokes

How rare it is these days to be able to make light of difficult or uncomfortable situations without risk of reprisals and witch-hunts. Try to joke publicly about anything of broad societal relevance - be it race, sex or in my case specifically, disability - and it won't be long until some self-righteous busybody screeches the phrase which has come to define this generation's discourse, "That's offensive!"

I exist (if you'll pardon the term) at the "intersection" of two currently adversarial social categories; I'm a white male, which in many people's eyes convicts me of the crimes committed by those who came before me, whether I share their views or not. However, I am also a wheelchair-bound quadriplegic, having lived with cerebral palsy since birth.

One of the hardest things about being disabled is building new friendships, because many people are so fearful of being offensive or "saying the wrong thing" that they'd rather just avoid conversation altogether. This problem has been around for as long as I have (and probably much further back) but now, thanks to the festering ideological plague of social justice, it's even worse.

You see, over the years we cripples and defectives have become quite a useful resource for the activist crowd, providing living, breathing targets for their projection and virtue-signalling. "The world is ableist!" they cry, in a ludicrous attempt to make those with disabilities sound like a homogenous and universally oppressed group - with no individual identities of our own - that only they in all their glorious benevolence care to try and save.

Well, to those who would look at me and see value only in my victimhood, I offer a sincere and heartfelt fuck you. I am disgusted by the notion that the disabled should be made a protected class, treated like infants who would crumble and die if humour were to result from medical conditions which quite often lead to hilariously funny predicaments. I take pride in the fact that several of my friends call me "Wheels" because it means that they acknowledge my differences, but do not fear or pity them.

There are few forms of isolation worse than those around you being unwilling to enjoy an honest laugh at your expense. Authentic comedy is born of pain and to be deprived of the chance to serve as the butt of your friends' jokes would be to miss out on one of life's great bonding experiences. As for what is and is not offensive, if you think I'm going to take the advice of brainwashed zealots on that, you've got about as much chance as a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest.