a severe case of ijbolitis

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now listening: So Young by Portugal. The Man


There are few things I find funnier than a line without context. Unfortunately, this has caused me to contract a rare, incurable disease called ijbolitis (ijbol = I just burst out laughing). Symptoms include unpredictable cackles and complementary concerned stares from others.

I encounter such context-less lines constantly, usually by tuning into someone's conversation at precisely the wrong second, but my all-time favorite example of this comes from the sitcom Modern Family. In one scene, where Cam is talking to Manny on the phone, going out of his way to try and coach him through his first real crush. It really is a very sweet, very wholesome moment...if (emphasis on if!) you know the context.

Conveniently, Cam is holding this tender heart-to-heart in a public setting. And to help Manny confess, Cam proudly instructs him (mind you, at FULL volume) to say the following: "I know you're only 11, but I can't stop thinking about you. I've loved talking to you online. I think we should become boyfriend and girlfriend."


 

Yikes. Yikes indeed. To keep it simple, let's just say that this did not...register as heartwarming advice to the innocent bystanders surrounding him.

And what makes this even funnier is Cam's comically desperate effort to make these lines salvageable, which somehow manages to make the entire situation immensely worse. Cam, to no avail, attempts to ease the (rightful) concerns of his crowd by explaining "It's not what you think! I'm talking to a little boy." Oh dear, Cam. Sweet Cam. At this point, you better stop speaking altogether. Perhaps consider fleeing the country while you're at it.

There is something about the absolute disaster potential in lines out of context that gets me every time, and this leverage of "absolute disasters" is also something I see paralleled in "The Importance of Being Earnest" by Oscar Wilde, which is arguably one giant misunderstanding. 

Take Jack, for instance, who has just broke the tragic news that his imaginary brother Ernest has died a very solemn and convenient death in Paris. What he certainly doesn't see coming though is that his "quite dead" brother has just made his wondrously untimely arrival. As Jack attempts to fix the situation (through gritted teeth, I presume) by continuing with Algernon's deceptions to protect his own, well, deceptions, both men end up digging themselves into an even deeper hole that inevitably unravels their true identities. So much for their plan to "sit around, pretending like nothing's wrong" (Portugal. The Man, “So Young”).

In that sense, I guess what makes these disastrous moments pure comedic gold to me is the utter failure to recover the situation and return to behaving "normally." So wildly (or should I say...Wilde-ly?) enough, while I'd certainly appreciate being enlightened with context, I don't think I always need or frankly want it. After all, I'd say my chronic ijbolitis thrives in its very absence.

 

 real image of me watching as everything that could possibly go wrong in the play goes wrong:













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