Comedy that plays it straight is the hardest kind to write, and Cunk on Everything commits to the bit without a single wink. The name on the cover is also the voice in your ears, which is exactly the joke: the whole enterprise depends on a narrator who never once concedes that anything being said might be wrong.
Our shelves file it under comedy, arts and society all at once, and that spread is a fair description of the range. Culture, history and the general state of things are taken on with the same undented confidence. Deadpan throughout, it belongs to the tradition of satire that mimics the form it mocks closely enough to be briefly mistaken for it.