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.

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.