Notes Towards a Joke on Pizza Rat
Maybe something like “to think, all these years I’ve been terrified someone would snap a picture of me eating a slice of pizza I found on the street.”
I don’t know. Self-deprecating is always good but maybe I tap that too much. Sometimes I wonder if I don’t actually really have some kind of self-loathing thing going on.
Like, the other day I googled “Suicidal Ideation” and then spent the whole afternoon rationalizing why what I’ve been doing isn’t that.
Kidding.
Is there a way to make a Pizza Rat joke that’s the opposite? Like, self-aggrandizing?
“I was going to film that rat eating pizza myself but I was too busy rushing off to fight for transgender rights.”
Not exactly punchy.
Maybe something political. That should get some attention.
“Unfortunately the camera cut off moments before New Jersey Governor Chris Christie showed up and…”
Nevermind. That’s not even political, that’s a fat joke.
Lame.
Maybe… Subway passengers fail to see irony in finding delight in greasy, filthy rat chasing impossible dream and nothing but contempt for fellow commuters.
That’s too cynical. And probably too complicated.
Nihilistic.
Maybe a “weird Twitter” approach?
Me: Hey a rat eating pizza in the subway
lady: Help me my son is choking
Me: Lady let the rat have its moment.
Do I even need to make a Pizza Rat joke? Is Pizza Rat going to be something people remember two days from now?
And why do I feel like I need to make jokes about everything, anyway?
I guess because of how isolated I feel all the time? Because I feel like I don’t matter, and maybe if people notice me I will? Like, maybe if I come up with one killer joke it’ll turn my life around, and I’ll be happy?
See, maybe that’s why I’m so isolated, though, because I’m too in my own head and worried about myself. I’m worried about coming up with a good Pizza Rat joke when that refugee shit is still happening.
That refugee shit is still happening, right?
I’m embarrassed that I don’t totally follow what’s going on with those refugees.
Maybe instead of worrying about jokes, instead of thinking a good joke will save me, I should be more concerned with my fellow man.
Like, how can I be of service?
I don’t have any money or anything to send.
Do those refugees need old comic books? I can send them some old comic books.
See, falling into jokes that quickly. Because the world is too big and complicated and sad to take seriously.
Or maybe the world isn’t sad. Maybe the world just is, and we decide if it’s sad or not.
Although those refugees seem objectively sad.
But I guess that’s not true, there must be some people who look at those refugees and feel nothing at all. There are probably people who look at those refugees and feel total disdain.
Of course, there’s also people who see those refugees and don’t think as much as act, who immediately get to work trying to help.
I wonder what they do? Like, how do they help?
I bet there are a lot of people who’d like to help but don’t know how, and they probably get frustrated and then they welcome some dumb thing like Pizza Rat because it’s a distraction.
Getting all worked up about shit that distracts people from real issues is a very juvenile impulse, maybe. When you’re 18 that seems deep but then you get older and you maybe come to terms with the fact that you can’t engage full on all day.
Or maybe that’s defeatist? Maybe I think that because I want to give myself a break?
How about “Video of rat eating pizza captured on phone constructed by foreign laborer whose family is starving.”
That makes me seem socially conscious, which I’d like people to believe me to be.
People love socially conscious people.
Socially conscious people get Twitter followers like crazy.
Maybe instead of jokes I should talk about how I wish NASA was a still a thing, about climate change and political corruption.
And everyone would talk about how engaged and passionate I am.
But if I’m only acting socially conscious for the Twitter followers, is that okay?
I mean, doing good for bad reasons is still good, right? because you’re still doing good.
It’s just inauthentic.
Shit, if I want authenticity I’ll have to go with that first one, about not getting filmed eating pizza off the street.
The Tusk 
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