Nor, for that matter, am I. Occasionally, I am lucky enough to come up with something that raises a vague chuckle, but it is rare and seldom. At the most, I hope for a slight turn of phrase, an inelegant segue, that makes my readers say "huh! That was kind of amusing". Mostly, I fail.
(Except with Bob, who is contractually obligated to laugh at every single one of my jokes.)
The article, though funny (funnier than me, dammit), has an essential truth running through it: A funny/cool thing ceases to be funny/cool once more than 50% of the population has latched on to it. By my calculations, LOLspeak ceased to be funny about 18 months ago (not that that is stopping me - I can haz funneh nao, plz? kthxbai). Once someone terminally uncool has latched on to it, it's over.
Sadly, none of us realize that we're terminally uncool - we are all the cool kids, in our own little minds. There is no-one cooler than us - we make LOLcaptions! We do all the cool memes! We are up on all the hottest YouTube bits! We have even seen "Two Girls, One Cup".
(No, don't. It's coprophagia, emetophagia, and goes on too long. The girls seem happy, though, I'll give them that.)
But we're not. I'm not. You're not. We're all way behind the curve. The fact that I manage to make some of you laugh is a happenstance of hitting the right phrase every once in a while, but I haven't written anything funny in months (yes, I am slacking. The Attack Laurel Convocation will be happening at Pennsic, and I'll be funny then). Everyone thinks they're cool when they latch on to something, because it is new for them, but the sad truth is that no matter how cool you think you are, someone who found the same thing six months ago is looking at you and going "wow, are you lame, or what?". It is a recognized social phenomenon that If I think something is cool, it is totally mega-rad, but if you decide it's cool, too, I will now find whatever it is ineffably passe.
(ETA: In case of possible confusion, what I'm talking about here is the making of jokes and trying to be the person making the funny. If you are simply enjoying what others hath wrought, have at it. Comedians need an audience, and an appreciative one is very nice. Just don't try to be the comedian if all you can do is copy others.)
This phenomenon is to blame for bands being accused of "selling out" the instant they actually start to earn a real living, enabling them to continue producing music for their fans. Humour is similar, but follows a sadder path, as the edgy coked-out comedian who was so funny twenty years ago is reduced to starring in excruciatingly unfunny Patch Adams-style movies.
To make it even more unfair, there are some damned funny people out there, but you can't become funny by copying what they do. Originality is key to good humour; something that still needs to be learned by a whole crap-load of bloggers who think their road to fame and fortune is paved with "snark-the-blank" posts.
(This is why I very seldom do a review of a movie or mini-series; Television Without Pity does it better a lot of the time.)
(Well, that, and I try not to watch too many movies that will rot my brain that bad. Me likey functioning brain cells.)
That's the awful thing about humour; it works once. Any more than that, and it takes on all the charm and freshness of a three-week-old haddock in a teenager's gym sock. All over the 'web, bloggers and webbers are desperately trying for the next new humour thing - snark site? Millions of 'em. Parody site? It had better be damn good. Photoshops? LOLs? YouTube? 90% of them reek of stale fish-sock.
The desire to be funny is in part driven by the desire to be the center of attention. When wit doesn't work, pratfalls substitute (see: 99% of YouTube). And when you're so unfunny that even getting smacked in the crotch by a baby panda on crack doesn't work, well, creating massive amounts of manufactured drama on your LJ will have to do.
(This actually explains why everyone is such a fucking drama queen - if you can't be funny, then screaming at the top of your lungs about some imagined slight will get you the attention you so deeply crave.)
We can't help it. None of us can. It's awful. See what the internet has reduced us to, and weep salty, bitter tears of shame.
All your shame are belong to us.