I stare at the black card in the center of the table. It reads, “What would grandma find disturbing, yet oddly charming?” I go through the white cards in my hands and chuckle uncomfortably at the awkward combinations I can make. A few are genuinely funny and hardly offensive: “Ryan Gosling riding in on a white horse,” “Erectile dysfunction,” or “Passive-Aggressive post-it notes.” Others are too subtly on the spot to be taken humorously: “Hospice care,” or “Dying.” And some are quite honestly awful: “Battlefield amputations,” or “Dead parents.” However, this prompt was rather light, and the next black card read “What did the US airdrop to the children of Afghanistan?” I suddenly regretted using Ryan Gosling on grandma…

 Those of you who consider yourselves to be anything but politically correct have probably recognized the fantabulous subtitled “party game for horrible people” I am referring to. For those who don’t, let me introduce the 17+ game known as Cards Against Humanity. The goal is simple: Make the funniest combination using a black question or fill-in-the-blank card, and a white card. The latter is generally inappropriate. But that’s precisely the point of the game; laughing even when one feels bad about laughing.

In the few months I’ve spent at NYU Abu Dhabi, I’ve noticed that most people shun unconventional humor — racy jokes, dark humor or absurdities — because a silent authority seems to have set these rules of decency. Yet, from what I’ve seen, these restrictions apply only to the public sphere, when people strive to fit into a certain environment’s conventions. Indeed, throughout my first semester, and right before writing this article, I understood that many were not satisfied with this status quo. In the privacy of our rooms, our “cosmopolitanism” is the root of many puns, and we are less concerned about the stereotypes we throw around.

Of course, one could argue that freedom of speech is clearly exacerbated when one is alone, and that one should have manners in public. However that is not what I am trying to highlight. I mean to say that in our school, it is socially unacceptable to be flawed in one’s line of humor because “future world leaders” cannot possibly make phallic jokes. Except, of course, if one hides behind an anonymous satirical newspaper named after hummus’ main ingredient, or if one simply chooses to epitomize absurdity — I’m sure a few names come to mind. At NYUAD it is frowned upon to do things halfway: solve world famine or don’t even try, publish a novel or forget about writing and be known as a clown or give up humor altogether. Maybe a little moderation would do us some good.

Don’t get me wrong -- I’m not advocating excessive or misplaced humor: There’s a time and place for everything. Some jokes go too far, and people should be able to judge accordingly, but if we can’t laugh at dark humor in a world where, let’s face it,  there are quite a few problems, we’ll all soon be pretty depressed. Some stereotypes may very well be broad generalizations with no factual basis, and others, however much we may be annoyed by it, are grounded in truth, but it's precisely because we are well-informed, open-minded people that we can take them with a grain of salt.

A new black card falls upon the table and the person who drew it reads it aloud: “It's a pity that kids these days are all getting involved with _______.” he calls. My gaze sets on the card in the middle of the ones I hold, and I know I have a winner.

“Crippling debt.”