I am a political human being. I have - that's one of my

In the words of Maz Jobrani, “I am a political human being. I have - that's one of my interests. I studied political science in college. I was actually going to get my Ph.D. in poli-sci. And a lot of my material from early on in my career dealt with politics, so I've always considered myself as somebody who enjoys political humor. So I'm not going to stop.” In this declaration, there is more than mere pride in one’s studies or career — there is the voice of a man who recognizes the sacred duty of the artist as a truth-teller, and the courage required to speak when silence would be easier. For to be “a political human being” is not simply to hold opinions, but to bear witness — to engage with the world, to question power, and to use art as a mirror for the conscience of humanity.

Maz Jobrani, as a comedian, stands in the ancient lineage of those who have turned laughter into light. His craft — political humor — is not the mockery of the shallow, but the weapon of the wise. It is the laughter that exposes hypocrisy, that deflates arrogance, that makes the powerful blink and the fearful breathe again. The ancients would have called such a man a jester-philosopher, one who hides truth within jest, who disarms the walls of pride with the softness of humor. In declaring that he will not stop, Jobrani claims his birthright as a seer with a smile, a warrior armed with words.

Long before the microphone and the stage light, there were jesters in royal courts and poets in public squares who dared to speak what others would not. The wise fool of old Europe could mock the king when no one else dared; the playwrights of Athens, like Aristophanes, used laughter to challenge war, corruption, and tyranny. When the powerful built walls of fear, these artists broke them down with the gentle hammer of comedy. Jobrani walks in their footsteps, standing on the stage not as an entertainer only, but as a messenger — reminding his audience that humor can awaken where outrage would divide.

To declare, “I am a political human being,” is to affirm one’s participation in the collective destiny of humankind. It is to refuse indifference, to see oneself not as a spectator, but as a participant in the great unfolding of justice and folly. Jobrani’s words carry the weight of one who understands that laughter is a form of resistance — that to laugh at power is to rob it of its false divinity. His background in political science grounds his comedy not in chaos but in knowledge. It is not the laughter of ignorance, but of insight — the laughter that knows the laws of history and dares to question their fairness.

History itself honors those who fused art with politics. Consider Voltaire, who wielded wit like a sword against tyranny and superstition. His satire ignited the fires of Enlightenment, teaching that humor, when guided by intellect, can move nations toward freedom. Or think of Charlie Chaplin, who in The Great Dictator dared to mock the tyranny of Hitler before the world had the courage to condemn him. His laughter, born of sorrow, became prophecy — showing that comedy, when infused with truth, can outlive armies and empires. So too does Jobrani, in his age, carry that torch — to remind us that humor can both comfort the oppressed and confront the oppressor.

Yet to live as a political human being is not without burden. The world often punishes those who speak boldly, who expose injustice through laughter or logic. But Jobrani’s refusal to stop — his insistence on continuing his work — is itself an act of defiance. It is a reminder that art loses its soul when it bows to fear. The political artist must walk a narrow path between courage and compassion, between jest and judgment. The true goal is not to divide but to awaken — to use humor not to mock the weak, but to humble the strong.

So, let this be the lesson carried forth: speak your truth with courage, but season it with grace. Let your humor, your art, your work — whatever form it takes — serve as a mirror for truth and a vessel for empathy. Do not shy away from the affairs of the world, for to be human is to be political, to be connected to the fates of others. The world does not need more silence; it needs more laughter that enlightens, more words that challenge, more hearts that care.

And finally, remember this: to laugh is not to ignore pain — it is to survive it. To make others laugh in times of confusion or fear is to offer them light. Maz Jobrani’s words remind us that humor, when rooted in wisdom, can unite nations and heal divisions. So go forth as a political being — not of ideology, but of humanity — and, like him, vow never to stop. For laughter, when used in service of truth, becomes the most enduring form of resistance.