The scandal du jour is a parody song that played on KDWB's "Dave Ryan in the Morning Show” last week. You've probably heard about it. This is a relatively small town, and so scandals get a lot of play here. If you haven't, it can be summarized as follows: The show has a challenge, wherein listeners text in song title suggestions and the show's staff must write a song in less than an hour. The suggested title, reportedly from a Hmong listener, was "30 Hmongs in a House.” The show's producer, Steve "Steve-O" LaTart, dashed off some lyrics that used an overcrowded house filled with Hmong people as a starting point, but also described a Hmong woman as pregnant by 16, with "seven kids by 23" and "over the hill by 30." For some reason, this song was set to Eric Clapton's "Tears in Heaven,” a song written for his 4-year-old son Connor, who had fallen to his death from a window.

Members of the Hmong community, and others, were predictably offended, and KDWB offered a predictable non-apology. Specifically, somebody from the station posted this to Facebook: "While we've received positive feedback from many Hmong listeners who let us know that they found the song in question very humorous, we apologize to anyone we may have inadvertently offended, as this was never our intent.” I would like to suggest to KDWB that if you don't think you did anything wrong, and you feel your song parody was funny, and you didn't mean to offend anybody, you not bother with a "we're sorry if you got offended” apology; these sort of PR half-measures are worse than no apology at all.

And, predictably, a number of listeners posted supportive statements to the KDWB Facebook page. The whole discussion seems to have been nixed — at least I'm not seeing it — but I recall a number of "people need to lighten up” type comments. It doesn't really matter that I can't reprint an example of this sort of comment, as I don't have an argument with KDWB's listeners. It's a common enough reaction when this sort of thing happens. Some people will defend any joke, especially if they found it funny, and think that if people get offended it by it, the problem is a lack of a sense of humor. They're entitled to that opinion, although I disagree with it.

I think there's a discussion of comedy that could emerge from it, although KDWB's half-hearted apology suggests that they're not really interested in having that discussion; perhaps they are having it internally, and they should. Regardless of whether or not the suggestion for the song came from a Hmong listener or not, having a non-Hmong producer string together a collection of derogatory ethnic stereotypes is always going to get a bad reaction. Perhaps there is a housing problem in the Hmong community, and perhaps there is an issue with teen pregnancy; I don't think it really matters. Because even if such things occur disproportionately in the Hmong community, this sort of joke structure implies that they are somehow characteristic of the Hmong, and nobody deserves to be collectively characterized like this. It strikes me as especially mean-spirited when the person doing the mocking is not part of that group, and, further, is part of the majority, while the group being mocked is part of a minority group that has a history of being mistreated by members of, and institutions of, the majority. It's the sort of thing that, whether intended to or not, comes awfully close to bullying. Comedy can be a tool of bullying, after all; for some, it is their primary and most powerful tool.

This is not to say that I think the Hmong are off-limits for a comedic examination. Comedy can also be a tool of investigation, and ultimately, there is nothing that can't be addressed by a humorist. But I think there are always useful questions to ask when telling a joke. Who is the target of this joke? What is being mocked? What am I trying to say with this joke? Who am I saying it to? These questions are useful to ask because comedy, by its very nature, is transgressive. It tends to examine what we prefer remain unexamined, and comedians tend to push a lot of boundaries. But sometimes, without meaning to, they aren't so much exploring boundaries as they are restating and supporting prejudices and stereotypes. And sometimes comedy can be quite mean. Sometimes, I would argue, it has to be, but it's always worth asking, "Who am I being mean to? And why?”

When you've been given an hour to slap together some song lyrics, it doesn't give you very much time to ask these questions. And when you're not part of the group you're about to make fun of, there is a very great risk that the jokes you compile will be a rather lazy collection of stereotypes. And there will be people who enjoy this — lazy collections of stereotypes have long found an appreciative audience, demonstrated by the ongoing success of books such as "Uncle John's Bathroom Reader.” I am not prepared to argue that this sort of comedy is entirely valueless, although it is not usually to my taste. At the very least, it is useful to know where our social fault lines are — what are the things that make people uncomfortable, or angry, or confused, and how do they address that with humor. Sometimes a racist joke reminds us that race is still an unsettled subject in this country; sometimes a joke that mocks an entire community reminds us that this community is still seen as being outsiders, with problems that are somehow uniquely culturally their own. If you're part of the group being mocked, these reminders can be quite painful. Sociologically, they might be quite interesting. Socially, they can be quite cruel.

I suppose I do have a response to those who answer this with "it's only a joke.” Not the listener, but the teller of the joke; they sometimes try to defend themselves with this sort of weak-sauce "oh shucks it's just not that big a deal why is everybody making such a fuss” defense. And my answer is: Do you really think so little of the power of comedy? Do you really think jokes don't matter? That humor is just a piffle, a nothing, that isn't worth considering for more than a moment, and isn't worth getting passionate about? If you have so little regard for comedy, why do you do it?

Not that this has been KDWB's defense. They haven't offered much of a defense, just a statement that they are sorry if anybody's feelings got hurt. But they must have known there was that risk when they started writing the joke. I can't imagine they're so new to comedy that they didn't know people would get upset when they strung together a group of stereotypes about the Hmong. That's the sort of joke that seems designed to elicit a reaction, although I don't wish to ascribe motivations to LaTart. It's possible that in the blind rush to complete his comedic task, he didn't even consider how such a thing would be received.

But if you're going to tell this sort of joke — and the Hmong aren't the first group to find themselves on the receiving end of this particular morning crew's satiric petard, only the most recent — it's not too much to ask that you offer your reasons for telling them. Give us a defense of jokes based in cliches and stereotypes. Tell us what's being mocked, and why, and why you think this has value. Is your comedy the start of a conversation, or the end of one? If it's the start, then have the conversation. A joke isn't a fragile thing that shatters when it is examined too much. Humor is robust and can stand it when we turn off the laugh track for a moment and look at it seriously.

A joke is never just a joke. Not if you care about comedy it isn't.