The right kind of funny

There is something beautiful about a room full of strangers laughing at the same joke. For a moment, nobody cares about the traffic they endured, the bills waiting at home, tomorrow's deadlines, or whatever problems they brought through the door. Everyone is simply laughing.

I got to experience that when I finally watched The KoolPals perform live at Fatbar in Dagupan.

It was not exactly a planned comedy trip. I had just come from a medical appointment in Baguio when I learned that they were bringing their show to Dagupan as part of their Philippine tour. Having followed their podcast and online appearances, I figured it was an opportunity I should not miss.

I already knew their humor: unapologetic, spontaneous, occasionally provocative, and distinctly Filipino. But watching them live was different. The timing, the exchanges, the chemistry among the performers, and the audience bursting into laughter made me appreciate stand-up comedy beyond the screen.

But what stayed with me was not just how funny they were. It was how welcoming the experience felt.

Comedy can take the easy way out. Make someone's disability, physical appearance, or personal circumstances the punchline, and an audience might laugh. But getting people to laugh at someone's expense is not necessarily the same as being funny.

What I appreciated about The KoolPals was how PWDs and members of other vulnerable sectors could be part of the experience without being made to feel like outsiders or objects of ridicule.

There is a difference between laughing with someone and laughing at them.

Imagine going to a comedy show and being able to enjoy every joke without wondering whether your disability or personal circumstances will become the next source of entertainment. You are there for the same reason as everyone else: to have a good time.

That should not be too much to ask.

This distinction is particularly important following the controversy involving Machong Chismisan and Josh Aquino, the eldest son of Kris Aquino, who is on the autism spectrum.

In an October 2026 episode, one of the hosts called Josh "walang kuwenta," while comparing him to his younger brother, Bimby. The remarks drew widespread criticism, particularly from members of the PWD community. The episode was taken down, the hosts apologized, and The Pod Network terminated its contract with the show. The NBI also issued subpoenas to the hosts as part of its investigation.

The incident raises an important question: When does a joke stop being funny?

Comedy should be allowed to push boundaries. It should challenge conventions, question authority, and make people uncomfortable when necessary. But being provocative does not require stripping another person of their dignity.

The KoolPals reminded me that you can be unapologetically funny without being deliberately hurtful. You can be edgy without being discriminatory. You can make an entire room laugh without making someone in that room feel ashamed of who they are.

And honestly, in the Philippines, comedians have more than enough material without having to punch down.

Think about it. We live in a country where billions are allocated for infrastructure, yet some communities still find themselves wading through floodwaters. Flood-control projects are being investigated, public funds are being scrutinized, and ordinary Filipinos are trying to stretch their salaries as prices continue to rise.

Sometimes, our reality is already funnier than fiction, except that nobody is laughing when the floodwater enters their living room.

These are the absurdities worth questioning through satire. A clever punchline can expose contradictions that an entire political speech might fail to communicate. Comedy can make people think while giving them a reason to laugh.

And laughter matters. It brings people together, relieves stress, and gives us a little breathing room from lives that are not always easy.

As a journalist, I spend much of my time writing about disasters, corruption allegations, criminal incidents, and the struggles of ordinary Filipinos. Not every story has a happy ending, and some assignments stay with you long after the workday is over.

Perhaps that is why I appreciate people who make a living giving others a reason to laugh.

My trip to Dagupan was about finally seeing a group I had followed online. I came away with a greater appreciation for what The KoolPals contribute to Filipino comedy.

They deserve recognition not only for their humor but also for showing that a comedy stage can be a place where different people feel welcome.

After all, the best comedy is not necessarily the joke that gets the loudest laugh at someone else's expense. It is the one that gets everyone laughing, including those who have too often been the butt of other people's jokes.

In a country where reality sometimes feels like one long, expensive, poorly managed punchline, we could use more comedians who know how to make us laugh without making someone else the casualty.

And perhaps that is what makes the right kind of funny worth celebrating.

Everyone deserves a seat in the audience. More importantly, everyone deserves to laugh.