If you ever feel dumb, just remember there are people out there who think Ali G is a pisstake out of the black community. If you ever fret that your grey matter has seen better days, perk yourself up with the reminder that there are folk so stupendously thick, so utterly unburdened by wit, that they think Sacha Baron Cohen’s mockery of white men is an attack on black men. I promise, nothing will make you feel smarter than watching half-wits and arseholes yelp ‘Racism!’ over a caricature of wiggas.

The Ali G controversy really does have it all, doesn’t it? It’s like a singularity of woke, a blinding collision of the dead-eyed literalism and funereal humourlessness of every virtue-draped muppet who calls himself ‘progressive’. No sooner had it been announced that Cohen was resurrecting his best-loved character – well, we loved him in the Nineties, when we weren’t all mentally ill – than ‘the left’ was polishing its pitchforks for a good old-fashioned orgy of censorious hysteria. It’s so 2019!

The thing that stirred the cancel-culture ghouls from their thin slumber is a new movie called Ali G: Who Iz I? It’s a faux-documentary in which we catch up with Ali G mingling with unsuspecting members of the public while spitting black patois and adorned in absurdly outsized ‘ghetto wear’. He sports dreadlocks now and a rastacap. G, of course, is a white dude from the dreary commuter town of Staines in Surrey whose real name is Alistair Leslie Graham and yet who loves putting on a durag and saying ‘Iz it coz I iz black?’. Because it’s a pisstake of tragic white men. Lordy, how many times.

The trailer – which looks great to me, not least because it has comic genius Morgana Robinson as Ali G’s knocked-up girlfriend – has triggered unholy caterwauling among the wit-impaired. It’s being ‘slammed as racist’, reports the Hollywood Reporter. X is a riot of the dumbest people alive accusing Ali G of doing ‘blackface’. These are the same bozos who watch Blazing Saddles – Mel Brooks’ gloriously profane satire on racism – and say: ‘Is this racist?’ No, it isn’t, you’re just very, very dim.

Apparently, the joy-starved literalists who live among us have fired off nearly 40,000 emails to cinemas begging them not to show Cohen’s blasphemous movie. You’re telling me there are tens of thousands of people in my society who are so pathologically vain they think they have the right to annihilate any culture that bruises their porcelain psyches and that I should be worried about a comic doing a Jafaican accent? Nah, you’re all right. People who want to save us from ‘offence’ are infinitely more scary than people who want to expose us to it.

If you watched the trailer for Ali G: Who Iz I? and thought to yourself ‘This is anti-black’, I don’t even know what to say to you. All the targets of the mockumentary ribbing in the trailer are white. That was always the core of Ali G: to milk for laughs the paralysing liberal guilt of stiff white people. He’d ambush establishment figures who were so terrified of appearing uncool or bigoted that they’d nod along to any old gibberish rather than risk calling out an ‘urban’ kid. Blackface? Bollocks. That crude old ‘humour’ was about ridiculing powerless black people; Ali G ridicules our eggshell culture that was built by the powerful.

The Ali G storm speaks to the impossibility of humour in the sterile wastelands of woke. Literalism and fragility are the enemies of comedy. A generation trained to take offence, to unpick every novel, painting, TV show and gag for even the faintest whiff of unwitting bigotry, is never going to be amused by anything. I recently saw a clip of Gen Z’ers being horrified by Little Britain’s Marjorie Dawes as she fails to understand the perfectly understandable Indian woman in a sari in her weight-watchers class. Imagine watching that and thinking it’s mocking Indian women rather than a certain kind of tone-deaf middle-class woman – rarely have I despaired more over the state of our education system.

There’s hypocrisy, too. There always is. The same people who need a lie-down over Ali G will tell you that a 6’2” cock in a frock is literally a woman and you’re Hitler if you say otherwise. They’ll whoop as male comics with estrogen-bloated moobs take to the stage to crack spectacularly unfunny jokes about the struggles of being a woman. ‘Blackface’ bad, womanface good. We’ve also seen radical Muslims raging against Ali G and his ‘racist’ fancy dress. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll get my lectures on sartorial sins from people who don’t shove women into black binbags. Sackface is a far larger problem than blackface.

What could it be about this chap Mr Cohen that Islamists – and their suicidal simps on the silver-spoon left – hate so much? It’s a mystery, isn’t it? Actually, it’s not. That’s the final ingredient in the Ali G storm: anti-Semitism. Spend five seconds on social media and you’ll see green-ink frothing about what a scummy Zionist Cohen is, and how he might even be an agent of Mossad, and how he’s definitely a Muslim-hater because all Zio-Nazis are Muslim-haters, right? I’ve said it before: scratch an Israelophobe, find a fascist.

It’s so clear now: reports of the death of woke were greatly exaggerated. For here it is, noisily re-spawning in a riot of stupidity, hypocrisy, autocracy and racism. Don’t let them win. Go and see Ali G. Laugh with the Jew who makes prigs and bigots lose their shit. Booyakasha.