A play in one scene by James J. Hamilton
PROSECUTOR: James J. Hamilton, did you post a personalized rape joke contest on Facebook?
JUDGE: You don’t have to answer that question.
JJH: I’ll answer the question. You want answers?
PROSECUTOR: I think I’m entitled.
JJH: You want answers?
PROSECUTOR: I want the truth.
JJH: You can’t handle the truth! Son, we use a Facebook that has walls, and those walls have to be posted on by men with jokes. Who’s gonna do it? You? You, with your Buzzfeed links and Upworthy garbage? Reposting other people’s content without ever producing anything yourself? You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not having to do what I do. Of not having to create comedy, of sitting back with your nose turned up and passing judgment on those who do something you cannot possibly fathom. You can’t make anyone laugh, so you become a killjoy for everyone who doesn’t have the same stick up their ass as you do. But my comedy, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, makes people laugh. You don’t want the truth, because deep down in places you don’t talk about at parties, you want me on your wall, you need me on your wall. We use words like “rape,” “abortion,” “retard.” We use these words as part of an art form that makes it a little easier for some people to bear the unbearable things in life. You use them as a cudgel to beat straw men. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to someone who’s already closed his mind against a joke before he’s even heard it. I would rather you just kept your mouth shut, and read The Family Circus. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a pen and do it yourself. Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you’re entitled to!
PROSECUTOR: Did you post a personalized rape joke contest?
JJH: I did the job that—
PROSECUTOR: Did you post a personalized rape joke contest?
JJH: YOU’RE GODDAMN RIGHT I DID!
[JJH handcuffed and taken to jail]