In a world in which social norms seem to be engraved in stone, there are those who hold themselves apart, those whom we sometimes describe as “marginal.” But make no mistake, my dear readers: this is where we often find the most sparkling gems of humour, the rare pearls of comedy, who shine in the darkness of social exclusion. Today, let’s dive into the world of the laughing marginalized, where humour is a refuge, a defence against adversity.
Imagine you’re in the bustling streets of a major metropolis, where every street corner holds a story, where every face bears the invisible scars of life. This is where you’ll meet the masters of street humour, the kings and queens of wordplay, as they juggle the hardest realities as if they were walking a tightrope stretched between laughter and tears.
Meet Jean-Pierre, a street philosopher who serves up unusual reflections along with your morning coffee, transforming the grey sidewalks into a theatre of the absurd where even the most hurried passersby stop to listen. “Life is short, but the little bits take forever!” he says with an intelligent wink, and suddenly, life seems a little easier to bear.
Then there’s Marie, the drag queen with the heart of gold, who transforms cabarets into oases of glamour and sparkling laughter. With a bat of the eyelashes and a dazzling smile, she defies prejudices and stereotypes, proving that true courage lies in your ability to be yourself, regardless of what others think.
And what can we say of Mamadou, a newcomer who juggles languages like others juggle balls, making passersby laugh with his cleverly orchestrated wordplay and his ability to transform every conversation into a moment of authentic human connection. “In a world where borders have become walls, I prefer to build bridges with smiles,” he says with a radiant grin.
Some might see these individuals as pariahs, marginals relegated to the fringes of society. But for those who have the good fortune to know them, they are the true heroes of comedy, ambassadors of laughter in a world that’s sometimes too serious. Their humour is a balm for wounded souls, a light in the darkness—living proof that even in the darkest corners, there is always room to laugh.
So, dear readers, the next time you cross paths with a marginalized person on the street, don’t look away. Do the opposite: open your eyes and ears, because you may be about to discover a hidden treasure, a master of humour who’ll make you laugh out loud and warm your heart with their wisdom and joie de vivre.
And remember always, my friends, that in this great circus of life, the last laugh is often the loudest, the one that transcends boundaries and prejudices, the one that brings hearts together and heals souls. So, laugh, laugh with all your heart, because that’s where the real magic of existence resides: in the power to transform shadows into light, tears into smiles, and marginalized people into the heroes of resilience.
Sœur Bibicyclette de la Sativaparla, guardian of the angels of artificial paradise, protector of HIV-po(t)sitive folks and nomads, a.k.a. Martin Rivest, was elevated to full sisterhood on August 13, 2023, during Pride week. Martin has also been a person living with HIV since 2015.
The Order of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence is a secular organization that began as a joke in 1979 in San Francisco, led by gay activists. Since then, the Order has fought against AIDS. It now numbers more than 1,800 sisters who work around the world to ease the lives of people living with HIV and of society’s marginalized.