...and that's funny.
It's easy to find things these days. The internet is a super-highway of information. I can sit down at my computer and, within 10 or 15 seconds know just about anything I want to about anything, anywhere in the world, or anyone any time in recorded human history, thanks, for the most part, to Google and Wikipedia.
One of the most prevalent topics on the Internet, and indeed all over the world, is that of Climate Change. It's "An Inconvenient Truth" that will eventually kill us and our lobsters, wreaking havoc over the globe.
Some backwards and uniformed (and probably politically incorrect) people, like me, still say "Global Warming." With this comes the idea that Carbon Dioxide is a pollutant (Are you breathing right now? Tut, tut, tut! You should be minimizing your "carbon footprint" by abstaining from breath!), and the idea that eventually, if things don't change, the earth will turn into a lifeless ball of scorched rock dotted with the charred ruins of the factories and automobiles that brought about their own doom.
In winter, I find this hard to believe. Two recent news stories, here and here, seem to agree with me, citing places in the US with temperatures in the minus 50s and inordinate amounts of snow in China. The story in China is really ironic, because of this article, whose headline states that the Norwegians are telling the Chinese that they should do their part to stop climate change. With the prognosis that Oslo might get above freezing once or twice this week, it seems very ironic that Norway is pushing to make sure the world doesn't get any warmer, and even worse, they're pushing a country that is having huge logistical and superstructural problems because of snow.
My hands are cold...enough with the conservationism, ok?
Brrr. I find that funny...
January 30, 2008
January 28, 2008
We had an adventure today...
Definition of Adventure:
1) Drinking the contents of a test tube following a chemistry experiment.
2) Bandying words with females.
3) Having 4-day-old pizza out of the fridge.
1) Drinking the contents of a test tube following a chemistry experiment.
2) Bandying words with females.
3) Having 4-day-old pizza out of the fridge.
(seriously, this was an adventure... some of the cheese didn't even melt after being in the microwave for a minute or two, and it was hard to tell the difference between the pepperoni thickly foresting the top and the marinara sauce underneath...they were about the same consistency)
4) Getting out of bed this morning.
(ok, I know this sounds lame, but it's a five-foot drop from the bed to the carpet-covered concrete floor below, and my legs don't always work real well in the morning.)
Imagine:
*alarm clock beeps*
Me: uuugghh
Radio Announcer: ...high of 47 today with mostly cloudy skies and a chance of showers this afternoon... *drones on in background*
Me: Ooof
*yawns*
*sits up*
Me: Owww...
Me: Stupid fan!
*jumps down to floor*
*time shifts to slow motion*
*regrets jumping*
*wonders if this will ruin my breakfast*
*feet contact floor*
*knees give way*
*bones shatter*
*collapses on floor*
Me: Owww...
Imagine:
*alarm clock beeps*
Me: uuugghh
Radio Announcer: ...high of 47 today with mostly cloudy skies and a chance of showers this afternoon... *drones on in background*
Me: Ooof
*yawns*
*sits up*
Me: Owww...
Me: Stupid fan!
*jumps down to floor*
*time shifts to slow motion*
*regrets jumping*
*wonders if this will ruin my breakfast*
*feet contact floor*
*knees give way*
*bones shatter*
*collapses on floor*
Me: Owww...
(Disclaimer: slight hyperbole employed above)
Surely now you see how my life is so entertaining. I only wish, as Hobbes did, that "we could talk about these things without the visual aids."
Go have an adventurous life...
...because someone else might find it funny!
Surely now you see how my life is so entertaining. I only wish, as Hobbes did, that "we could talk about these things without the visual aids."
Go have an adventurous life...
...because someone else might find it funny!
January 25, 2008
Odd Thought For The Day
What do your lungs smell like?
I know of no one who can answer that question.
So, in unison with the Minister, I snort.
That's what my lungs smell like.
Isn't that funny?
I know of no one who can answer that question.
So, in unison with the Minister, I snort.
That's what my lungs smell like.
Isn't that funny?
January 21, 2008
Nuts
(disclaimer: After I wrote this, The Minister reminded me that the word in question may also be used rather vulgarly. This is not the intention. Read this post as innocently as you can. It is kind of funny that I didn't remember that earlier... ah well...more Hilarium ad Infinitum, no?)
The word "nut" is hilarious.
Let us explain.
First of all, the word, "nut" has many different meanings. This makes this word very, very useful in the realm of puns. You can say "I love nuts" and mean that you enjoy almonds and cashews, even though you are in the midst of conversation about "nutty" people, and no one will be the wiser, though they may think you slightly crazy. Conversely, you make the same remark in a conversation about Walnuts and Macadamia nuts and mean something different, and, since your companion conversants are totally in the dark about the sudden change of meaning, after a few more minutes, you will totally surprise them by referencing how people's quirks make them lovable.
A rather more obscure way that nuts are funny is that they are inherently (in a mind steeped in Walt Disney's classic animated animal films) connected with Squirrels. No one can deny that squirrels are funny. The best way of picturing a nut, is in the hands of a chattering squirrel, and, if you will excuse me for being completely frank, a chattering squirrel makes me double over in hilarity.
I, for the most part deplore the recent film, "Ice Age", but, apart from the amazing computer animation and the unique story idea, the only reason that I watch such a movie, is because of the Squirrel. Even though the filmmakers have misplaced the nut, and instead made the object of this antediluvian squirrel's affection an acorn, the symbolism and humor remains, and, if you wish to see the source of this particular part of the hilarity of the word "nut," you must seek it there.
For a third reason, "nut" can also be used in the plural if one, like myself and the Minister, wishes to refrain from rude language, and express disappointment. In this case, one can take from the squirrelian, and just say, "Nuts!"
And we think that sounds funny...
The word "nut" is hilarious.
Let us explain.
First of all, the word, "nut" has many different meanings. This makes this word very, very useful in the realm of puns. You can say "I love nuts" and mean that you enjoy almonds and cashews, even though you are in the midst of conversation about "nutty" people, and no one will be the wiser, though they may think you slightly crazy. Conversely, you make the same remark in a conversation about Walnuts and Macadamia nuts and mean something different, and, since your companion conversants are totally in the dark about the sudden change of meaning, after a few more minutes, you will totally surprise them by referencing how people's quirks make them lovable.
A rather more obscure way that nuts are funny is that they are inherently (in a mind steeped in Walt Disney's classic animated animal films) connected with Squirrels. No one can deny that squirrels are funny. The best way of picturing a nut, is in the hands of a chattering squirrel, and, if you will excuse me for being completely frank, a chattering squirrel makes me double over in hilarity.
I, for the most part deplore the recent film, "Ice Age", but, apart from the amazing computer animation and the unique story idea, the only reason that I watch such a movie, is because of the Squirrel. Even though the filmmakers have misplaced the nut, and instead made the object of this antediluvian squirrel's affection an acorn, the symbolism and humor remains, and, if you wish to see the source of this particular part of the hilarity of the word "nut," you must seek it there.
For a third reason, "nut" can also be used in the plural if one, like myself and the Minister, wishes to refrain from rude language, and express disappointment. In this case, one can take from the squirrelian, and just say, "Nuts!"
And we think that sounds funny...
January 18, 2008
In my youth....
The Minister and I are a huge fans of Lewis Carroll. Anything from "The Hunting of the Snark: An Agony in Eight Fits" to "Jabberwocky" or "The Walrus and the Carpenter" (even though it deals with the seduction and murder of countless oysters), we thoroughly enjoy reading.
One of our favorites is "Father William," part of which goes as follows:
All this is to explain the other, a song whose author I do not know: For in my youth, I (for a strange and fitful reason) was enamored of a particular tape that had songs on it that made, now I realize it, horrendous fun of the Democratic party, and the Clinton Administration in particular. I will not turn this blog into a political soapbox about why these songs were or were not accurate, but let me quote the lines that have been running through my head:
(to be sung to the tune of "This Land is my Land" with a William Clinton-esque accent)
The song goes on a bit longer, and it's rather funny if you don't think about the horrible things that it accuses our former president of (again, I won't diverge to discuss the actual actions of said president).
The fact that I listened to and enjoyed the songs now seems slightly strange to me, because at that time, I had little knowledge of who Clinton was, much less what he did. It appalls me to think that I spent valuable time and "mental RAM" if you will, on a song such as this...
but...
I also find it funny.
One of our favorites is "Father William," part of which goes as follows:
"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weakThese two stanzas were one of two things running through my head this afternoon.
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak --
Pray, how did you manage to do it?"
"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life."
All this is to explain the other, a song whose author I do not know: For in my youth, I (for a strange and fitful reason) was enamored of a particular tape that had songs on it that made, now I realize it, horrendous fun of the Democratic party, and the Clinton Administration in particular. I will not turn this blog into a political soapbox about why these songs were or were not accurate, but let me quote the lines that have been running through my head:
(to be sung to the tune of "This Land is my Land" with a William Clinton-esque accent)
This land was my land,
This land was your land,
But I just sold it
To a guy from Thailand.
He talked real funny,
But he gave me money:
This land's been sold for you by me.
The song goes on a bit longer, and it's rather funny if you don't think about the horrible things that it accuses our former president of (again, I won't diverge to discuss the actual actions of said president).
The fact that I listened to and enjoyed the songs now seems slightly strange to me, because at that time, I had little knowledge of who Clinton was, much less what he did. It appalls me to think that I spent valuable time and "mental RAM" if you will, on a song such as this...
but...
I also find it funny.
January 17, 2008
It's Either Me or You, John.
--or--
Locusts and Honey a la Puppet
According to my Google Glossary search,
a puppet is:
While The Minister and I have no experience with the first kind, though that sounds much more interesting than the others, we do have significant experience with the third kind. Let us describe a typical encounter with these puppets:
(this is in the setting of my church, where most of my experience comes from)
Overall, who does the term "puppet" apply to better: John the Baptist, or me?
The Minister finds that funny....
a puppet is:
- a small figure of a person operated from above with strings by a puppeteer
- creature: a person who is controlled by others and is used to perform unpleasant tasks for someone else
- a doll with a hollow head of a person or animal and a cloth body; intended to fit over the hand and be manipulated with the fingers
While The Minister and I have no experience with the first kind, though that sounds much more interesting than the others, we do have significant experience with the third kind. Let us describe a typical encounter with these puppets:
(this is in the setting of my church, where most of my experience comes from)
- I am inexplicably volunteered to be part of a "Puppet sketch" that will wow adults and entertain and teach children.
- I decline gracefully.
- I am told that I am the only one for the job, getting comments like, "You have a great voice!" or "Your arms are so nice and long, you would be great!" or, better yet, "You're a strong young man, you can take it. (this comment sometimes incorporates a hefty slap on the back, or a perusal of my biceps).
- I politely refuse again, giving the legitimate excuse that I am much too busy on the time when this "puppet sketch" is to be performed.
- My excuses are politely ignored.
- I explicate the text of my excuse, outlining the three specific jobs that I already do at the time in question.
- The excuses are once again ignored.
- A few days after occurrences 1-7 take place, I receive an email or phone message that tells me a time and a place where practice for this performance is going to begin.
- Inexplicably, I show up for the practice.
- I arrive and find that the script is "Really more like guidelines than actual rules" and that the "puppets" with which I am to wow adults and entertain kids are a motley crew, ranging from a wild-haired man slightly reminiscent of John the Baptist (I can almost hear him say, "Locusts a la honey, anyone?"), a chimpanzee, and a man originally dressed as a knight, who went through a rather harsh wardrobe change, and has resigned himself to wearing a modern-day business suit (his Lancelot-esque beard is still very visible on his face).
- I quickly remember, once we start, just how tiring it is to sit in a baptismal with your arm in the air, moving your thumb (but not your fingers...try this, it's hard) in sync with the scri...er...guideline, and trying not to make the poor cloth-man in whose mouth your fingers are putting words look "unnatural."
- I realize how uncomfortable it is to be doing all that is mentioned above while trying to speak in Walter Cronkite's voice into a small microphone hanging from a towel.
- My arm goes limp.
- My mind fades into oblivion.
- I agree to perform on the following Sunday
Overall, who does the term "puppet" apply to better: John the Baptist, or me?
The Minister finds that funny....
January 13, 2008
Life Insurance
Why is it that life insurance really deals more with death than life?
This is one of a horde of similar questions, which have been circulated on cyberspace quite enough to make it not worth my while to mention them. Still, this is a relevant question. However, the Minister insists that I reassure my readers that I do not intend to launch a "Truth in Advertizing" lawsuit against any life insurance companies. When discussing this with a wiser person than myself, I was told that far from being an ironic play on words by witty life insurance agents who were contemplating the meaning of life, it was probably just because the marketability of a service called "Death Insurance" would be somewhere directly above zero. The Minister reminds me not to say "zero" outright because, as he puts it, there are those disturbing people in the world who like Edgar Allen Poe a little too much (and for all the wrong reasons) that would glory in the chance to insure themselves against their death with such a morbidly-titled product. Either way, dear Minister, I certainly would not buy it.
Whatever the reason,
We find that funny.
This is one of a horde of similar questions, which have been circulated on cyberspace quite enough to make it not worth my while to mention them. Still, this is a relevant question. However, the Minister insists that I reassure my readers that I do not intend to launch a "Truth in Advertizing" lawsuit against any life insurance companies. When discussing this with a wiser person than myself, I was told that far from being an ironic play on words by witty life insurance agents who were contemplating the meaning of life, it was probably just because the marketability of a service called "Death Insurance" would be somewhere directly above zero. The Minister reminds me not to say "zero" outright because, as he puts it, there are those disturbing people in the world who like Edgar Allen Poe a little too much (and for all the wrong reasons) that would glory in the chance to insure themselves against their death with such a morbidly-titled product. Either way, dear Minister, I certainly would not buy it.
Whatever the reason,
We find that funny.
Religiously Traditional
The Minister and I are religiously traditional.
Mainly, this means that we ascribe to the ancient religious views of Christianity. This means that we can recite the Apostle's creed while agreeing with it on every point. Every point, that is, that we understand; but The Minister encourages me not to enter a discussion about the knowable-ness of Eternal beings, for that may fail to fall under the category of the Hilarium to which this blog is dedicated.
However, we also find this to mean that we are not only traditional in our religion, but religious in our tradition. We (mainly I, actually, for given the nature of the Minister, his physical activities are very limited) find that we do not stray from our tradition without great upheaval to shake us from it.
Peanut Butter and Strawberry Jam Sandwiches....
Cheerios (the plain variety, with no milk, eaten with fingers)...
Putting on my headphones when sitting at my computer, but steadfastly forgetting to turn on music...
Reading on the couch (even though I know that a soft surface combined with a large, dry book is a wonderful recipe for a soporific effect)...
Some say that variety is the spice of life. I submit that while spices are all very nice and tasty, they are still rather unedible without a hearty companion diet of tradition. Religious Tradition!
We find that funny.
Mainly, this means that we ascribe to the ancient religious views of Christianity. This means that we can recite the Apostle's creed while agreeing with it on every point. Every point, that is, that we understand; but The Minister encourages me not to enter a discussion about the knowable-ness of Eternal beings, for that may fail to fall under the category of the Hilarium to which this blog is dedicated.
However, we also find this to mean that we are not only traditional in our religion, but religious in our tradition. We (mainly I, actually, for given the nature of the Minister, his physical activities are very limited) find that we do not stray from our tradition without great upheaval to shake us from it.
Peanut Butter and Strawberry Jam Sandwiches....
Cheerios (the plain variety, with no milk, eaten with fingers)...
Putting on my headphones when sitting at my computer, but steadfastly forgetting to turn on music...
Reading on the couch (even though I know that a soft surface combined with a large, dry book is a wonderful recipe for a soporific effect)...
Some say that variety is the spice of life. I submit that while spices are all very nice and tasty, they are still rather unedible without a hearty companion diet of tradition. Religious Tradition!
We find that funny.
January 11, 2008
Y'know what's funny?
Even after long, tireless, and sometimes dubious research, The Minister has not yet found out what makes things funny. Nevertheless, His Ministerliness and I think that funniness comes innately from the odd world that we live in. Whether there is a specific part of the brain that recognizes humor, or whether it is just a magical force of hilarity that pervades the universe, the Minister and I know that it is ingrained in the human psyche.
We draw evidence from the earliest human life...that of a baby. One of the first notable things that a young child does (not counting certain inevitable and instinctive activities which we won't discuss here) is smile.
We find that funny.
What we find funnier is that the reason that the child is showing signs of Hilarium Delirium (i.e. the condition of thinking that something is funny; the Minister came up with that term to diagnose me...) is probably linked to the people they see every day. While it seems that it is harder to recognize as we age, humor is all around us. A baby thinks that it is funny when they see their parents. Their face often looks as if it will split with the pure hilarity of seeing these huge "grown-up" people who are so serious all the time.
Uninhibited as they are by age and maturity, young children are aware to a great extent of what the Minister and I call the Hilarium ad Infinitum.
We find that funny.
We draw evidence from the earliest human life...that of a baby. One of the first notable things that a young child does (not counting certain inevitable and instinctive activities which we won't discuss here) is smile.
We find that funny.
What we find funnier is that the reason that the child is showing signs of Hilarium Delirium (i.e. the condition of thinking that something is funny; the Minister came up with that term to diagnose me...) is probably linked to the people they see every day. While it seems that it is harder to recognize as we age, humor is all around us. A baby thinks that it is funny when they see their parents. Their face often looks as if it will split with the pure hilarity of seeing these huge "grown-up" people who are so serious all the time.
Uninhibited as they are by age and maturity, young children are aware to a great extent of what the Minister and I call the Hilarium ad Infinitum.
We find that funny.
I which I will explain...
No. There is too much. Let me sum up.
I am always amazed at how much there is to laugh at in life. I laugh at things like the sound that a raindrop makes when it falls, or the way a pencil or pen migrates constantly, making it hard to find. After a few years of laughing at these things, I forsook the path of expression because of the constant strange looks, and the cold shoulders that said "I really don't know what he's laughing about, but he does it so often, I'll just ignore him to save me the trouble of continually asking him."
So...the Minister of Hilarium materialized.
The Minister is the little person who helps me stay sane through the side-stitching, knee-slapping world that we all live in. I tell the things at which I want to laugh to the Minister, and he laughs at them for me, saving me the discomfort of being constantly giggling in public.
(For the record, the Minister and I actually find the idea of giggling constantly in public funny, but as yet we have not begun to create too much hilarity together. We just take note, and laugh)
The Minister told me today that he is not a wide enough audience for the things I think are funny, the Hilarium ad Infinitum of life, so this blog materialized.
Now you, dear reader, are witness to Hilaritum ad Infinitum, courtesy of The Minister of Hilarium, and yours truly.
Disclaimer: I, Ignoratus, am not totally responsible for the content of this blog. If you consider something just too far out or too weird to be funny, The Minister probably thought that one up.
I am always amazed at how much there is to laugh at in life. I laugh at things like the sound that a raindrop makes when it falls, or the way a pencil or pen migrates constantly, making it hard to find. After a few years of laughing at these things, I forsook the path of expression because of the constant strange looks, and the cold shoulders that said "I really don't know what he's laughing about, but he does it so often, I'll just ignore him to save me the trouble of continually asking him."
So...the Minister of Hilarium materialized.
The Minister is the little person who helps me stay sane through the side-stitching, knee-slapping world that we all live in. I tell the things at which I want to laugh to the Minister, and he laughs at them for me, saving me the discomfort of being constantly giggling in public.
(For the record, the Minister and I actually find the idea of giggling constantly in public funny, but as yet we have not begun to create too much hilarity together. We just take note, and laugh)
The Minister told me today that he is not a wide enough audience for the things I think are funny, the Hilarium ad Infinitum of life, so this blog materialized.
Now you, dear reader, are witness to Hilaritum ad Infinitum, courtesy of The Minister of Hilarium, and yours truly.
Disclaimer: I, Ignoratus, am not totally responsible for the content of this blog. If you consider something just too far out or too weird to be funny, The Minister probably thought that one up.
How to make your life complicated....
...in one easy step.
1. Become acquainted with one or more females.
Some might argue that life is complicated just by the existence of such creatures, but the Minister of Hilarium and I do not know for sure.
I would also like to submit that a complicated life is not a bad thing all the time: "There is a season for everything under heaven..." even for a complicated life. We think, too that though sometimes a complicated life is regrettable, the cause is sometimes worth the effect.
The Minister and I find that funny....
...and from complicated lives comes Hilarium ad Infinitum.
1. Become acquainted with one or more females.
Some might argue that life is complicated just by the existence of such creatures, but the Minister of Hilarium and I do not know for sure.
I would also like to submit that a complicated life is not a bad thing all the time: "There is a season for everything under heaven..." even for a complicated life. We think, too that though sometimes a complicated life is regrettable, the cause is sometimes worth the effect.
The Minister and I find that funny....
...and from complicated lives comes Hilarium ad Infinitum.
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