However, we should also be attentive to the potential for critical voices to employ abusive or problematic language within humour. The case of TV anchor Cener Kaya’s interview with a prospective voter who would become disparaged as a ‘crazy old man’ is explored here to raise potent questions about the thorny relationship between humour, resistance, and identity-related criticism. In her May 2018 interview, Kaya awkwardly chats with an increasingly irate elderly man about his preferences in the upcoming election. Shortly after the video aired, social media users uploaded scores of memes and videos making fun of the interaction. The man, Süleyman Çakır, responds that he would vote for the AKP because they get things done (‘çünkü çalışıyor’), whereas as other political actors wring their hands about how ‘secularism is disappearing’ (‘laiklik elden gidiyor’) and spent their time banning the Muslim skullcap (takke) and headscarf.Footnote93 Çakır makes his point derisively with vigorous hand gestures, wishes the AKP had come to power directly after the Ottoman era, and yells ‘Traitor! I’ll call the police!’ (‘Hain! 155 ararım!’) when passers-by disagree with him. Many of the videos circulated by social media users included nicknames such as ‘kızgın dede’ and ‘çılgın amca,’ both roughly translated as ‘crazy old man,’ to mock the interviewee. The video that gained by far the most number of views with nearly 6.5 million was one that mashed up an excerpt of Usher’s hit song ‘Yeah’ with Cakır’s gesticulations and condemnations of efforts to institutionalize secularism.Footnote94 Çakır’s shouts of ‘hain!’ are repeatedly spliced to fuse with the song’s rhythm like a chorus, while the theme of ‘othering’ and calling the authorities on someone for criticizing him recalls the practice of reporting on suspicious neighbours, employers, and even relatives that has increased following the 15 July 2016 coup attempt.Footnote95 The popularity of this video suggests the function of Kraidy’s ‘resonant symbolism’ in highlighting specific points about the identity of AKP voters, juxtaposed with a well-known, highly catchy club beat. The popularity of the song and its infectious rhythm invite those attracted by its sounds and video imagery to partake in a dressing down of someone who supports the regime. However, this example is also useful in illustrating the problematic nature of pop culture as a tool of resistance in its ability to amplify stereotypes through mockery. For example, the video opens with Çakır’s admonition to those disagreeing with him to be quiet by unwittingly using the word for abortion (kürtaj) instead of ‘report’ (röportaj). For viewers opposing the AKP, which has taken steps to restrict abortions amid Erdoğan’s claims that the act constitutes murder,Footnote96 Çakır’s incorrect use of the word allows them to mock the interviewee as ignorant. Further, although the interview takes place in the largely conservative Istanbul neighbourhood of Üsküdar, Çakır’s Turkish reflects his rural Black Sea origins and a dimension of class that makes him an easy target for so-called ‘white Turks,’ a socio-economic and typical secularist identity category that Susamam critiques as elitist.Footnote97 Indeed, classist attitudes pervade in the responses to the interview from passers-by as well as in online comments. A well-coiffed blonde woman admonishes Çakır, who is dressed in the sweater and stocking cap of village men and has a rounded Muslim beard, with: ‘learn to brush your teeth first!’Footnote98 Her comment made in passing resonates with wider attitudes of those who criticize AKP voters as uneducated and uncouth, but also illustrates a pervasive classism infused with overlapping stereotypes about the ‘ignorance’ (cahillik) of the rural and the pious.Footnote99 Playing on these beliefs, the choice of the song ‘Yeah!’ not only provides an infectious beat, but also pointedly mocks Çakır’s accent, as he pronounces the Turkish syllable ‘yor,’ which ends third-person verbs as ‘yeah.’ Thus his answer that the AKP is working comes across not as ‘çalışıyor’ but ‘çalışıyeah,’ and in the video is perfectly timed with the lyrics of the original song. Further, the insertion of a film outtake of rapper Lil Jon yelling ‘what?!’Footnote100 after each of the interviewee’s claims about the absurdity of secularists’ fears can be read as emphasizing the alterity of his rural accent, and/or incredulity towards his claims. While this can be read as frustration with the regime this man supports, the ad hominem nature of the mockery of Çakır himself suggests the need to approach the intersection of humour, pop culture, and politics from a critical perspective that identifies the class-based power relations undergirding the video’s appeal to many.