The combination of absurdity, tedium and longevity

There’s something in comedy called the long joke.

According to social psychologists, when you take a situation that’s kind of normal and create a benign violation, it starts to make the situation uncomfortably awkward.

With each repetition, it creates a progressive incremental shift in meaning. And after a certain amount of time, the combination of absurdity plus tedium raised to the power of longevity leads to comedy.

Humorists have named this the funny, then not funny, then funny again joke. Kauffman built his entire career as a performance artist on it. The guy would stand on stage with a small turntable, play a famous television theme song, look completely confused until the chorus came along, and then lip sync the words with cheesy, choreographed dance moves.

Audiences howled. Not because it was inherently comedic, but because it was absurd, tedious and most of all, long.

This is a rare source of leverage that can have a powerful effect on the world, when harnessed properly. What you have to do is unpack it from a strategic standpoint. Reverse engineering the generic approach of the gambit.

Here’s the way to think about it.

How could you aggressively lean into something that’s deeply inappropriate, but to the point where its usefulness ultimately offsets the wrongness?

Kauffman’s usefulness, in the above example, was comedy. His act was so uniquely entertaining, that audiences didn’t mind the uncomfortable silences. Because the payoff was so good.

And the good news is, any creative person can execute their work in this same way. It’s all about powering through the spectrum of human emotion long enough for it to be worthwhile when people come out on the other side.

Here’s my product idea for a cool service that leverages the tension of inappropriateness:

Back to school anxiety is no joke. Especially for freshman. How are fourteen year olds supposed to be cool, make friends and avoid getting their asses kicked?

Fooligan finally gives kids a fighting chance.

Yes, that idea is technically a mass scale lie that promotes violence, but the child actors get paid to do work they love, and the wimpy kids build their confidence and reputation.

Isn’t that worth a few knocked out teeth?

Look, this world isn’t going to change on its own. We need innovative solutions.

If you can figure out how to leverage the combination of absurdity, tedium and longevity, there’s no telling what kind of impact you can have.

How could you aggressively lean into something that’s deeply inappropriate, but to the point where its usefulness ultimately offsets the wrongness?