Kenneth James

“A black fly in your chardonnay… isn’t it ironic?”

“It’s like rain on your wedding day… isn’t it ironic?”

“Wins the lottery and dies the next day… isn’t it ironic?”

“A death row pardon two minutes too late… isn’t it ironic?”

Half the country screams, “NO! There’s nothing ironic about any of that.” It’s simply bad luck or the world turning against you. Then comes the criticism: “How dumb can Alanis Morissette be?” It’s a put-down designed to feed a sense of superiority: “How smart am I!”

But when critiquing art, views can be twisted and aspects contorted. It is a matter of perspective. Let’s take "Ironic" from the point of view of the black fly, the rain, the lottery ticket, and the pardon.

The black fly lives its short life looking for the motherload of sugar. What a thrill to stumble upon a glass of chardonnay open to the world. Its heart’s delight is its demise. Ironic, don’t you think?

And the poor rain cloud. It loves and nurtures the Earth and finally gets the big wedding invite—the Taylor Swift wedding. But when it shows up, it ruins the day. Is there irony in rain never being able to enjoy a sunny day? Perhaps a bit.

Now, anthropomorphize yourself into a lottery ticket. You are one in 10,000,000 and your destiny is fulfilled. You are meant to bring joy to a man in ill health who requires expensive medical treatment. Yet what do you bring? You bring on a heart attack. Ironic, don’t you think?

Or imagine yourself as a death row pardon for a man wrongly found guilty of murder. You arrive to save him, but death still gets its way. Close to ironic, at least I think.

When Alanis Morissette wrote "Ironic," was she subconsciously—or even intentionally—feeling the song from a more tragic perspective? Instead of the nuisance of a fly or rain, perhaps the soul of the song is in the death of the winner or the man on the row. Taken together, life is filled with bad luck, then we die.

Ironic, don’t you think?

For me, writing is like pounding an iron bar into shape. For Melissa Whitaker it flows from her pen.

Still Here (Still Slipping) On self-doubt, bananas, and getting back up again