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jackshoegazerThe days have been long and strange in the wilderness. It's been said before, but this time I mean it. And I know that's been said before as well. What is there to say that hasn't already been said before? Nothing, because even that's been said.
I read once that there are only seven jokes in the existence and all jokes are variations on those seven jokes. Apparently the most common is the three-step misdirection. Set-up, set-up, punchline. Two Jews walked into a bar. The third one ducked. You get it.
Puns are some of my favorites. I like the one about the pastor who hires an armless and legless man in a wheelchair to ring the church bells by biting the rope and yanking on it. When the bells don't go off on time, he and others go to investigate, and they find the limbless fellow lying on the floor, unconscious. When someone asks who he is, the pastor says, "I can't remember his name but his face rings a bell."
My other favorite has a punch line about Gandhi. He was a super-calloused, fragile mystic plagued with halitosis. Say it out loud if you don't get it.
I will report that I have invented one joke in my life, though I have heard others tell it and swear that there's no way I could have made it up. I did though. In a George Webb's 24-hour diner. It goes like this:
Me: Hey, ask me if I'm a truck.
You: Uh, are you a truck?
Me: No.
Trust me, it's all in the delivery.
I suppose, if everything's been said, there's no reason someone else couldn't have invented that joke also. Two people invented vaccines and postulated the spiral-structure of DNA at the same time, hundreds of miles apart. Life seems to have sprung up all over the world at the same time, not just one plant in Africa that spread slowly across the globe.
It seems that when the world needs something, wants something, is ready for something, it just appears wherever the environment is ripe. I think it's every person's secret wish to be a catalyst, to be the right kind of fertilizer, the right kind of vehicle for something the Universe wants.
We have all this potential just begging to be used. How many lives are wasted waiting? The chaff and the wheat? A lot of fertilizer for one bright flower - a lotus with just it's bloom above the surface, most of it's life underwater and invisible.
I want to write something that's never been said, do something that's never been done. I want to bloom across the Universe, I want to fly around the world. I want my very own supernova. I want to blow up. I want to expend and expand. I want to say something so true, you don't know whether to laugh or cry. I want the Universe to look upon me with eyes proud and affirming and say, "Yes, Jeremy, you are a bright light shining in the darkness. You have brought the dawn to a new idea, awakened a slumbering truth. Thank you."
To which I will reply, "What do I need a refrigerator for? I don't smoke."
I read once that there are only seven jokes in the existence and all jokes are variations on those seven jokes. Apparently the most common is the three-step misdirection. Set-up, set-up, punchline. Two Jews walked into a bar. The third one ducked. You get it.
Puns are some of my favorites. I like the one about the pastor who hires an armless and legless man in a wheelchair to ring the church bells by biting the rope and yanking on it. When the bells don't go off on time, he and others go to investigate, and they find the limbless fellow lying on the floor, unconscious. When someone asks who he is, the pastor says, "I can't remember his name but his face rings a bell."
My other favorite has a punch line about Gandhi. He was a super-calloused, fragile mystic plagued with halitosis. Say it out loud if you don't get it.
I will report that I have invented one joke in my life, though I have heard others tell it and swear that there's no way I could have made it up. I did though. In a George Webb's 24-hour diner. It goes like this:
Me: Hey, ask me if I'm a truck.
You: Uh, are you a truck?
Me: No.
Trust me, it's all in the delivery.
I suppose, if everything's been said, there's no reason someone else couldn't have invented that joke also. Two people invented vaccines and postulated the spiral-structure of DNA at the same time, hundreds of miles apart. Life seems to have sprung up all over the world at the same time, not just one plant in Africa that spread slowly across the globe.
It seems that when the world needs something, wants something, is ready for something, it just appears wherever the environment is ripe. I think it's every person's secret wish to be a catalyst, to be the right kind of fertilizer, the right kind of vehicle for something the Universe wants.
We have all this potential just begging to be used. How many lives are wasted waiting? The chaff and the wheat? A lot of fertilizer for one bright flower - a lotus with just it's bloom above the surface, most of it's life underwater and invisible.
I want to write something that's never been said, do something that's never been done. I want to bloom across the Universe, I want to fly around the world. I want my very own supernova. I want to blow up. I want to expend and expand. I want to say something so true, you don't know whether to laugh or cry. I want the Universe to look upon me with eyes proud and affirming and say, "Yes, Jeremy, you are a bright light shining in the darkness. You have brought the dawn to a new idea, awakened a slumbering truth. Thank you."
To which I will reply, "What do I need a refrigerator for? I don't smoke."
