Australians traditionally like their humour irreverent, crude and with very sharp teeth. The ‘politically correct’ is out and the ‘isms’ of sex, race and a swag of other prejudices abound. Pretty well anything and anyone is fair game.
Through the tall tales of the bush, the yarns of Anzac diggers, the antics of larrikins and workplace laughter, our jokes are often at the expense of others, particularly newcomers. Remember the one about the strange whining sound heard at airports as planes from Britain landed? It was eventually realised that this was the whingeing of ‘Pommie’ migrants dissatisfied with what they found in Australia.
On the other hand, we are also adept at ‘taking the piss’ out of ourselves. One of the lampoons in this book is titled ‘Application for Australian Citizenship’, and it begins with this question:
How many slabs can you fit in the back of a Falcon ute while also allowing room for your cattle dog?
And it goes rapidly downhill from there, pillorying our prejudices and preferences.
This tendency could come from the history of modern Australia. The need to deal with an unforgiving environment meant that those from the softer northern hemisphere had to toughen up very quickly to survive, never mind thrive. The fabled Australian lampooning of ‘new chums’ in the nineteenth century and our notorious jokes against ‘new Australians’, ‘reffos’, ‘boat people’ and so on are reprehensible, but perhaps explainable through these circumstances.
Those who are the targets of such humour, of course, are unlikely to see things the same way. But they can and do get their own back through the same process of sending up, making light and generally turning the joke back upon the jokers.
Apart from making us laugh—and, sometimes, cringe—humour can be a great leveller, a safety valve, a consolation or all of these things. It can also be a way to cope with difficult situations, from the everyday trivialities of ‘Minties moments’ to the often-grim realities of war, tensions at work or just with life in general. It is also something that works best when it is shared. Research shows that people laugh much more frequently when they are in a social situation. When Australians share a joke or swap a yarn, we are so pleased with sending things up that we include ourselves in the humour.
And that humour comes in many forms—yarns, anecdotes, jokes, satires, parodies, cartoons, send-ups and even the ways in which we like to amuse ourselves. Even our fabled slang is not only colourful but frequently humorous in itself. ‘In a pig’s arse’, or simply ‘pigs’, is a well-worn expression of disbelief. Just what the rear end of the poor old porker has to do with truth or lies is a mystery, but the expression is inherently humorous. Other terms, such as to ‘perform like a pork chop’ or be as ‘happy as a frog in a sock’ or ‘flat to the boards like a lizard drinking’, like many other Australian idioms, use absurdity to produce the kind of humorous talk we find screamingly funny. At least, it is to us; others often find it incomprehensible, vulgar or just plain weird.
Demanding a ‘fair suck of the sav(eloy)’—or the sauce bottle, according to some—reminds us of another important characteristic of Australian humour: it is fiercely democratic, insisting on a ‘fair go’ and ‘cutting down tall poppies’ at every opportunity. Our parodies and satires often undercut authority figures, whether they be politicians, bureaucrats, experts or just the boss, always fated to be an ‘arsehole’. We relish taking someone or something down a peg or three, particularly the prominent and the pompous.
Most of the humour in this book comes from the rich traditions of Australian laughter. The yarns, jokes and sayings that have been handed down from generation to generation still raise a smile. Others are more recent examples of modern traditions of send-up and satire associated with working life or parodying some aspect of politics, economics or society. Some items are humorous anecdotes and stories that have been turned into literature, such as Henry Lawson’s ‘The Loaded Dog’, or literature turned into folklore, like the Dad and Dave stories based on the writings of Steele Rudd. Some are retellings of humorous incidents and events in history, official and otherwise. They all draw on the same native wit that delights in puncturing pretensions and generally giving anyone and anything a ‘bit of a serve’ or ‘stirring the possum’ a bit.
We begin with ‘bulldust’, or just ‘bull’. The American humorist Mark Twain was greatly impressed with the Australian ability to generate ‘the most beautiful lies’ when he visited in the 1890s. He was a man who told more than a few tall stories of his own and so was well qualified to judge. Whether Australians enjoy a good lie more than other nations is a debatable point, but we have an impressive repertoire of ‘bullshit’, and it is not all slung in Canberra! The country has been blessed with some prodigious liars and you will find some of their greatest works here.
Australian humour is also populated with an amazing array of quirky ‘characters’. They range through the funny, the cranky, the weird and the wonderful. Some are mythical, like Sandy the shearer. When told that some lambs were for sale at five shillings each, Sandy complained bitterly that this was far too expensive. When the seller said that he could have them for three pounds a dozen, Sandy was overjoyed and bought the lot.
The intelligence-challenged Drongo is another, hopefully, imagined character of this kind. But other figures, like Bea Miles, actually existed and brightened things up for years with her crazy antics. Memorable eccentrics of all kinds, they are a staple of our folklore.
Another type of identity is the hard case. These types are often battlers, like the cocky farmer or the swaggie, though skinflint tycoons like the miserly grazier ‘Hungry’ Tyson are not unknown. They may also be stupendous whingers or ratbags, like the bloke who swapped his wife for a billy and a pup because the dog was an extra good one. Whoever they are, real or fictional, they demonstrate the very angular Australian sense of humour, with its sharp elbows and shouldering, four-square attitude. Tough customers all, their doings have delighted us throughout our history and still raise a laugh today.
One of the distinctive elements of Australian humour revolves around the character of the ‘Digger’, the idealised soldier of the Anzac tradition. While most Digger jokes and japes take place on active duty, they follow the style of bush humour and reflect the biases as well as the delights of the Aussie at war. Digger humour reflects the famous larrikinism and anti-authoritarianism of the Anzacs, from Gallipoli and onwards.
If most of us have to work for a living, we might as well have a laugh about it as often as possible. And we do. Whatever the trade, occupation or profession, there is no shortage of humour about working life, whether we earn our daily crust in the bush, in an office, in a factory or anywhere else. Some yarns and jokes are peculiar to certain industries, trades or workplaces, others are immediately understandable to outsiders. These may be told, suitably adapted, in other industries, like the yarn about the employee who is supposed to keep the workplace clean and tidy. When the boss makes an inspection, he finds the place in a mess and the surfaces thick with dust. He berates the worker, saying, ‘The dust on that table is so thick I could write my name in it.’ The worker agrees, replying, ‘But then, you’re an educated man.’
The bush is an inescapable location for a great deal of humour, past and present. Pioneering, settlement, battling fire, flood and drought are all activities that have produced yarns of tough cocky farmers, shearers, bush workers, swaggies and dreadful cooks. Much of this humour relates to the resilience and fortitude necessary to endure the realities of rural life, as well as the need of bush and outback folk to have a very well-developed sense of humour in order to get by.
The trials and tribulations of everyday life are a fertile ground for humour, in the bush and in the city. Wherever we live and work, the same problems perplex us all and we’ve come up with an endless succession of send-ups, spoofs and satires to raise a laugh or two. Exercising the facial muscles helps us weather the inevitable challenges and disappointments of existence and the seemingly endless absurdities of the laws of life.
Lastly, amusing events and situations, quirky comments and excruciatingly embarrassing moments are a big part of the Australian idea of what is funny, absurd and just odd.
As well as amusing ourselves with quirky characters, jokes about the boss and all those yarns about three blokes in a pub, we even invent quirkily humorous activities, like running naked with the bulls and other odd sporting events such as cockroach racing, boating regattas held in desert river beds or Port Lincoln’s famous Tuna Toss competition.
And then, there are always those moments we’d rather forget or, even better, never experience at all. Excruciating embarrassments and cringeworthy exploits are in the ‘moments like these’ category of great Australian humour. You’ll definitely need a Mintie or two.
In the end, the essential ingredient in making humour funny, rather than simply crude or offensive, is to keep it playful. Wit, cleverness, satire and the puncturing of officialdom and pretence are the hallmarks of our best humour. Whatever the circumstances, Australians have found something to laugh about, laugh at, or laugh off.