A Criticism of Satire

Religulous, Bill Maher’s new religiously-satirical documentary, released in 2008, is a frustrating film to watch. Yes, it’s very funny, yes, it makes a lot of good points, but there is something unmistakably “al gore-ish” about it. Throughout the film, Maher makes it undoubtedly clear that it is his sole duty, as an icon of anti-religion and guiding voice of reason, to ramble around southern America and various religiously-important regions of the Middle East confronting passers-by and interviewing figurehead officials to argue them into corners on their faith, riding from one stumped expression to the next. The documentary is laden with him monologuing about himself and his steadfast dedication to denouncing religion, clips of his standup routines, and even chats with family members. He enjoys reveling in the fact that he’s miles above this whole crazy religion nonsense, and wants to place himself, as Al Gore did with Environmentalists, as the leader of an anti-religious movement, appointing himself instructor of the choir he’s preaching to. What’s frustrating about this is that Religulous’ message is, as the late George Carlin put it, “Religion is the greatest bullsh** story ever told,” yet Maher took this message, a camera crew, and a van, and made a massive ego-trip out of it, relying on his skill in satire and the sheer ridiculousness of orthodox Christians, Mormons, Jews, and Muslims for humor. This message is extremely important to any atheist, being the foundation of their non-belief, and Maher chose to send this message by lampooning undereducated fundamentalists. Yes, it is hilarious when a mosque attendant defends the gender-equality of his religion by pointing to the special corner of the mosque female Muslims get to pray in, but I really don’t understand the humor in convincing a devout Texan truck driver that the ludicrous he has been fed since he was an infant is, in fact, ludicrous. But did I laugh? Yes. Why? Why is it so enjoyable to watch these people burn? I should hold no grudge against these people, my belief being that they are hopelessly misled, but their stalwart, brazen faith in something I consider to be wholly false makes them seem amusing and aggravating. I’m ashamed to put it in these absolute terms, but I hate these people and what they believe in, and so does Bill Maher. This sentiment is what Maher built this entire documentary around, which is what made it, regrettably, satisfying.
Religulous is a religious satire, through and through, and Maher chose to send his anti-religious message in an intensely satirical manner because satire has gained burgeoning popularity in American media, and examples abound. Shows like Family Guy and The Simpsons became famous for their vicious satirical nature, and each South Park episode is basically a venomous spoof of one or more current events. The writing of these shows is very well done, but they place a great amount of humor in this human craving for spite. People tune into the Daily show and the Colbert Report to watch these great intellects wipe the floor with the people they hate(or the people they hear they should hate to be trendy,) and many people replaced watching the news with these shows, deriving all their political knowledge from intensely liberal-satirical-news programs. The trend of “Bush-Bashing” is perhaps the most apt example of the nature of this contemporary fascination with satire; all ignorant, hateful people had to do was Photoshop Bush’s face into a picture with Bin Laden or state some ridiculous anti-bush claim on a forum and they could be considered hip (to some extent). Yes, Bush gave plenty of reasons for criticism, but one didn’t need to know exactly what it was that Bush was doing wrong to bash him; Bush-bashing was the popularization of ignorant, often baseless, hate in the guise of contemporary political satire.
The massive popularity of satire may elicit the question, “why do we enjoy satire so much?” Satire in the vein of South Park and Religulous is, in essence, the intellectual exploration of the emotion of hate. To reference a famous psychologist, Freud states that the individual must always struggle between Society (the refusal of their base instincts), and the desire to fulfill these instincts. Satire allows humankind to fulfill this primal instinct of hate in an intellectual fashion, and thus it is greatly satisfying.
Is this a good thing? Absolutely not. If the messages in many works of satire were instead given in a truthful, non-satirical fashion, their percolation could be far more successful; few orthodox Christians would have any reason to see a documentary like Religulous, whereas they would be understandably more inclined to participate in an unbiased exploration on the subjects of the film. Maher’s virulent odium of the religions he berates in his documentary is not unlike the loathing in the eyes of the Muslim extremists shouting anti-Semitic war cries in several clips of Religulous, and Maher should have realized this similarity in intention before he started on this documentary that endeavors to champion the use of educated human reason in the battle against orthodox religions. Hate is an emotion capable of unimaginable evil, and we must strive to avoid it in everything we do, whether our goal is to stop the teaching of creationism in schools or genocide.

And here I am ranting angrily about hate and satire. I probably should have used a few less adjectives, but there it is.