I want to start this article by saying the following: I started “South Park” because of my boss. Yes, the man who interviewed me, decided to hire me, taught me things, is a generally lovely person, and someone I consider a friend, told me to watch “South Park.” He enjoys it so much and trusted so much in my likelihood of enjoying it that he pretty much wore me down, essentially getting me to the point of watch “South Park” just so he'd stop telling me to watch it. So, simply remember that as I talk about the show.
It's a show I was always interested in, simply because it caught onto be zeitgeist. I knew going into the series that it lampooned pretty much everything in society in, usually, the most outrageously offensive way possible. I was aware of some of its controversies – listing them all would take more words than I’m allowed to write, but suffice it to say virtually every group has been mocked mercilessly on the show. I had even seen an episode without knowing what it was – an old roommate showed me an episode entitled “The F Word.” The premise of the episode is simple: The show’s characters attempt to reappropriate the use of the word “f*g” as not a homophobic slur but a word designated toward a group people actually don’t like (in this case, it was loud and obnoxious bikers). The episode points out that that word has a usage that has evolved over time, and the characters attempt to officially change the word’s definition in the dictionary. Its message was that labeling words taboo is what makes certain words taboo and that the only way to beat that taboo is to remove that taboo. In essence, I pretty much enjoyed the episode. It was uproariously funny, horrifically offensive, and had a biting yet germane social message. While I was intrigued, I knew I had over fifteen seasons of content to sort through and knew I wouldn’t get around to it.
Until two weeks ago, when my boss convinced me to watch “South Park.” He knew of my concerns about content and continuity and starting the show from the latest season, so he told me to start with the nineteenth season, which was the first season to have continuity to the show’s larger narrative. Despite having a bit of a working knowledge of the show – there’s a kid named Kenny who used to die all the time but doesn’t anymore, everybody loves the fat kid named Cartman, and this is from the guys who brought us “The Book of Mormon” – I sat down to watch my first episode of “South Park.” Within about two minutes, I was immediately hooked, and it was one joke that sucked me. The nineteenth season starts with an assault on the show’s own offensive aspects with a character named PC Principal arriving at South Park Elementary – yeah, did I mention the main characters are in fourth grade? That’s somehow the best and worst part of it all – to set the school straight, emphasizing the importance of being politically correct. PC Principal, painted as a frat boy, mocks the school for having only white students, causing the school’s counselor, Mr. Mackey, to say: “Well, we have Token. He’s black.” And then we cut to Token, who is, in fact, black. That single joke sold me on “South Park.”
It is horrifically offensive, and I cannot adequately express how offensive it is. But that’s the point. It’s horrifically offensive because it needs to be, because it’s proving a point. Even though I don’t always agree with what it says, “South Park” makes it a point to brutally satirize and make fun of everything – and I mean everything – and the most effective way to do so is to be as offensive as possible. By being offensive, by showing humanity at its worst, it shows humanity at its best – essentially, humans are allowed to be this awful, which means humans are also allowed to be much better.
Well, that and having an ambivalent relationship with Caitlyn Jenner.
