And is that not the point of humor, at its most basic: To offend, by way of whimsical and perverted premises otherwise known as ridicule? So how to succeed, with this burden at hand?
Oh, what a task lies before us, then.
I don't believe there are many good humorists about these days because, well, I don't believe a lot of people know how to laugh, and, more importantly, I don't believe a lot of people know how to make others laugh. Which brings me to those who attempt such tasks: They are to applauded and respected for their intentions. Especially those intentions that fail when they should succeed.
Consider as proof "Anchorman: The Legend Of Ron Burgundy". Satire, at its finest, in the tradition of "This Is Spinal Tap", "Waiting For Guffman", "A Mighty Wind", "Best Of Show".
Superficially, that is. "Anchorman: The Legend Of Ron Burgundy" is satire as satire should be, given it stays close to the source material used for inspiration: The news media. But go beneath the surface, look in the corners, step past the edge of the frame's reality, and find that this is not satire as satire should be. It is, in fact, mean-spirited partisan political propaganda. (And if you want that sort of thing may I suggest you get into the ever-diminshing line for Michael Moore's latest jeremiad.)
"Anchorman: The Legend Of Ron Burgundy" fails because it desires and perspires to be more than just funny. Why it is compelled to be more than funny is unclear, and unfortunate. I wanted to like it instead of loathing it, as I did.
Consider: When it stays close to the truth and fact of the news media it is funny and hilarious: When the news director goes silly and gaa-gaa over stories about warm and fuzzy animals at the zoo you know this to be real; when the promotions on television and advertisements go to make the 'team' to look like a happy family, you know you know this. But the rival news teams attempt what is a well-dressed take on gladiators (I know: White leisure suits and platform shoes?) you howl with disappointment and disbelief.