To the average person, laughter comes naturally. It is a sign that you do not take yourself or the universe too seriously.
For folks who lack any semblance humor, the rest of us have to analyze and figure out the intent behind their words and actions and then develop an appropriate response. Please note, there is a marked difference between a sense of humor and the possession of a funny bone.
With a sense of humor, we instinctively know when something or someone is funny. On the other hand, the misnamed funny bone is the source of pain and perhaps embarrassed laughter. Some think the person who applied that particular word to the ulnar nerve had an evil sense of humor.
As we all know, there is nothing about the resulting discomfort of hitting the ulnar nerve that even vaguely resembles a moment of humor. The usual response to that particular pain is foul language, groaning, and perhaps a bit of jumping up and down or dancing the I’m-in-agony jig. In case you are too shy to ask, jumping and dancing are to distract oneself from the agony of the elbow pain.
It is a sad commentary on humanity that the most successful clowns, or comedians, are not as happy on the inside as they project for all the world to see. Perhaps pain is the birth mother of humor. But then, “Laughing on the outside while crying on the inside” might be an apt observation about our social media infected society as well.
Here is an example of what a friend accomplished with humor at her workplace.
The stress level exhibited by many of her coworkers was acute in certain parts of their corporate headquarters. Employees inhabited their offices for long hours every day and often on the weekends. To the astute observer, the evidence of palpable pain was there to see on everyone’s face and in their body language. Sometimes she thought the two phrases “Rode hard and put up wet” and “That beaten down look” accurately described many of the people at work.
When she walked into certain areas of the company, the oppressive air cloaked her shoulders like an unwanted shroud. The stress in the air was almost physical. Sometimes she had the feeling that she could carve chunks of the oppressive air with scissors or a sword. The fleeting image of a corporate avenging angel often flashed in her mind.
To combat all the gloom, she did her part to ease the employees’ burdens with humor. On the counter by her desk, she placed a daily cartoon. To the more discerning, the cartoons were not only funny but also loaded with sarcasm, which often applied to situations and people around them. Before long, people made it a point to stop by her desk for a refreshing chuckle.
Based on our observations, politicians and their sycophants lack a sense of humor in our nation’s capital and any place politicians tend to congregate. We do not mean to imply that those folks do not smile. However, their smiles eerily resemble the crocodile’s predatory grin in Peter Pan whenever Captain
That look is not attractive on those atrophied wolves we call politicians. We happily quote the Queen of Hearts in Alice in Wonderland, “Off with their heads!” They do not need heads to house nonexistent brains.
The past week’s circus performed by the inmates in Washington, D.C., would be better called the dance of the deaf, dumb, and blind cuckoos.
A local rancher stopped by for a visit. When he started to leave, he said: “Well, I better go tend to those Democrats” meaning his cattle. If the Democrats are cattle, then the Republicans are the invertebrates or Slytherins. They shed their party affiliation just like snakes.
Politicians are like Dr. Jekyll while campaigning, and Mr. Hyde once elected. Mooers and hissers or donkeys and elephants. With all the animal comparisons, they fit well in the august Congressional Zoo.
Who will the guillotine harvest on Election Day?