Is there any humor in environmentalism?
There's precious little that's funny about the condition of the environment, unless, of course, you savor the irony of the natural world reasserting itself so effortlessly during the pandemic--wildlife roaming the streets of the 'burbs and cities; rivers and canals that were once cloudy with pollutants clearing up and fish seen swimming there; air quality improving in cities and towns only because humans were forced to stay home. Not from any particular groupmind or hive mind agreement, unless, of course, we all agreed on a subconscious level to sign up for this experience and to learn from it. Perhaps that's the cosmic lesson in all of this, or the cosmic joke.
But back to the topic of humor or comedy about the environment. Now, I, the founder of Ecodot.com, happen to dabble in performing different types of comedy, and love the messaging and art form of every aspect of comedy--from standup to sketch to improv; live to recorded on video or audio or both; cartooning and graffiti and ironic modern art. However, I've done nearly zero humor about the environment and have heard even less. Maybe it's so dark that it's just not funny, or more likely, it's so dry and serious and grand a problem that no one really sees the humor in it.
Nonetheless, in going through some old art files from the pre-Ecodot.com entity we grew out of, the Signs & Symbols catalog (which I wrote and edited), I found some nascent, blatant examples of at least sarcasm and parody in environmentalism. Below are two examples--the "Grow Your Own Planet Kit," and the "Little Giant Pocket Composter." The first was inspired by the old comic book ads for sea monkeys, and the second from an old Warner Brothers cartoon, where someone was selling the "Little Giant Vacuum Cleaner from Walla Walla Washington."
There was plenty of sarcasm and wit in the catalog copy, and original line art by Maine cartoonist, our old pal Vance Bessey.
The really sweet part about the Little Giant Pocket Composter, vintage 1991, was that when journalists would interview me, they'd often focus on that product and laugh, asking how it was selling. They were kind of embarrassed to learn that it was a joke...but that's the best kind of comedy, one that slides in there, unobserved, unobstrusive, like a sky slowly clearing of pollution over time or a river running clear because stupid humans have been forced indoors. By a virus that may well have environmental implications--that's right, food shortages lead to humans eating animals they may not have considered in the past.
--Dan Bernard