Friday Noticeboard

Today’s noticeboard is brought to you by a daring public experiment. In Sydney this week, intrepid social engineers attempted to discover what happens when you combine feminism, comedy and an audience of sad wokens.

Feminist comedy has a way to go, but it’ll eventually catch on

The outcome was much as you would expect:

A prank featuring a member of comedy duo The Inspired Unemployed and three high-profile Australian feminists went awry on Wednesday night, with audience members furious at what they labelled a “fake event” that was “triggering” and “painfully unfunny”.

An event featuring “three high-profile Australian feminists” was somehow “painfully unfunny”? I don’t believe it.

Promoted on social media under the title Love Unboxed, the free event held at The Neilson on Walsh Bay, promised an evening of “insightful discourse and thought-provoking discussions as renowned feminists Antoinette Lattouf, Clementine Ford and Yumi Stynes engage in a lively conversation on the intricacies of sex, love, relationships and marriage”.

The Three Stoogettes. And who would be their comedic foil?

Also in attendance, the promotion noted, would be “a special guest offering his perspective as a young male”.

That guest turned out to be Jack Steele, co-founder (with Matt Ford) of the comedy group The Inspired Unemployed, who boast more than two million followers on Instagram.

Here’s the sort of thing Steele and the Inspired Unemployed are known for. Not my cup of cringe, but there you go.

As the discussion unfolded – with seemingly serious intent on the part of the women – Steele received his orders via earpiece from the rest of the Inspired Unemployed team. And for many of the people in the audience – many of them longtime fans of the women on stage, with a deep interest in feminism – the responses were infuriating.

According to one witness, who posted about the night on Instagram, when he was asked a question about consent, Steele replied “Yeah, chicks dig consent”.

Noting that all three women were published authors, Steele said, “Oh yeah, I really like girl writers” – to audible groans from the audience.

Ambivalent. Maybe groans are the new form of finger snapping or jazz hands.

On the topic of the glass ceiling, former plasterer Steele noted that “as a tradie” he knew bamboo was not a good material to build houses with, and nor was glass. By the halfway point, it had become too much for some in the 100-plus audience, and they began to leave.

A free gig starring three high-profile Australian feminists barely cracks three figures. Now that’s funny.

Steele’s attendance had actually been orchestrated as part of a skit for the second season of the TV show (Impractical) Jokers. Based on a US format, the show revolves around pranks in which the cast members (now four) push the limits of embarrassment by placing each other in awkward situations, giving orders to the patsy via earpiece, and recording the experience with hidden cameras.

The aim is to extract maximum “punishment” from the subject.

And the audience, evidently.

According to one source involved in the event, who was not authorised to speak publicly, Steele had no idea what he was walking into on Wednesday night, though the three other panellists were aware of the prank.

When Clem, Antoinette and Yumi are your intended partners in laughter, the show is doomed before it even begins.

There had been signs in the room indicating that the event would be filmed, but no detail was given beyond that, and as questions came from the floor, one woman said she felt the audience should have been informed beforehand about the true nature of the evening. “It comes down to consent,” she added, to approval and applause from the audience.

Leftists: art should be challenging and dangerous. Also leftists: we want to know exactly what we’re going to see before we see it.

It was, said another, “a shit show”, but one she was willing to forgive because of the body of work behind the three women, and “because we love you”.

Cults are fascinating.

As the audience applauded, Steele squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, then rose and walked out of the room. “I’m really sorry, guys,” he said as he departed. “From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry.”

He needs to apologise again for calling them "guys".

The women then stayed behind and conducted a genuine Q&A session, with around half the original audience staying behind for another 45 minutes or so. For some, it wasn’t enough to redeem the evening or address the sense of betrayal they felt.

This, right here. This is hilarious.

“Just wasted an hour of my time which I’ll never get back,” wrote one attendee on Clementine Ford’s Instagram. “The poor woman sitting behind me was crying … I’ll be ok, but this show probably should have come with a trigger warning.”

You knew it had three frightbats in it. How much of a warning does a person need?

“Unfortunately, any opportunity for insightful discourse was overshadowed by the painfully unfunny man who made a complete mockery of what could have been a really interesting panel,” wrote another. “Very poorly executed ‘bit’ at the expense of the audience. So disappointing.”

Further chuckle-worthy responses:

Followers of Ford have since commented on her post advertising the event on Tuesday, with one saying it was “a completely mockery” and “painfully unfunny”.

True, but it’s getting funnier.

“Your voice has been a beacon of inspiration for many, including myself,” another said.

“So, to witness your participation in a prank show, where the very essence of feminism seemed to be twisted and exploited for laughs, was disheartening, to say the least.”

They don’t like laughter. It scorches their souls.