Whenever I experience a feeling of anguish, I acknowledge two options: one, explain to my peers the reason for my pessimism, or two, paint a smile over my frown and force others to laugh when I am incapable. As you may have already guessed, the latter option is always the correct answer.
Not all resort to this desolate option—the younger generation influenced the world of mental health, favoring talking before finalizing plans of death by suicide, in turn causing immense grief. Yet, older generations condemn us for being full of sensitivity rather than welcoming our dispiritedness with an open mind, so we cope with humor.
The game Cards Against Humanity—a game that should be out of the reach of children’s hands—is one that intentionally draws players provocative and twisted cards with topics and responses. The most humorous card, according to who pulled the topic card, typically is victorious. For instance, one topic presented was “What is Batman’s guilty pleasure?” and the player responded with “Dead parents”; if you missed the joke, the gist is that Batman watched his parent’s murder, so there is where dark humor comes into play.
Whether sexual-based jokes or grim humor find their usage in this game or reality, at times, both can be used as coping mechanisms, whether to navigate uncomfortable situations, self-deprecation or even veiling insecurities. The normality revolving around the word “humor” perished when individuals discovered it as a mask, whereas its intention was to create laughter rather than protect misery.
The entirety of what I have written insinuates a torment within an individual’s mind on whether or not to speak up or remain silent; I am not the best example of which option to choose. I find it terribly strenuous to announce what I think or feel, and instead of sharing this aching agony, I let myself unravel within rather than burden others.
I would not label myself as the “funny friend” because I do not make many jokes, nor are they constantly laugh-worthy—I am really consistent with sarcasm, however. Yet, I would instead choose to make those around me cry tears of laughter than realize that, on the inside, I am crying for them to acknowledge the pain-stricken laughter that echoes out of me. However, this is not a cry for help: it is to pressure our readers to discern what the world has come to and how we handle it as a society.
In this edition of the Tom Tom, we focus on childhood board games, drawing connections between those and the real world. Staffers Taylor Clark and Anthony Sacchetti fixate on world issues in “Sinking into Another War” and “Operation Save Medical Appointments.” A decrease in effortless attention and conversation is examined by staffer Josie Quirke and Junior News Editor Sofia Tinker in “Keeping Attention in Check” and “Communication IRL.” To tie everything together, one of the most popular board games is used by staffer Claire Policht to convey individuals veering away from the conventional path of existence in “Take a Spin on the Game of Life.”
Immerse yourselves into a magazine of board games, and as always, we hope you enjoy.
