I Remember Jokes

But most people don’t. They should. Then they’d be more like me. Strike that–I don’t want a bunch of me’s out there.

Remembering jokes is like remembering dreams for most people; it just slips through. Because they’re slimy. Jokes slither where few else dare to tread, leaving no tracks in the memory.

I was looking at this pack of incense sticks in the hippie heath food store when I noticed one with a very strange name. “Virgin of Guadalupe?!” I asked aloud. “What would the Virgin of Guadalupe smell like?”

“Fresh,” answered the passing hippie store clerk.

See, I remember that. It’s a good memory. Jokes make for good memories if you just take the time to grab ’em by the tail before they slither off. You should always be able to make yourself laugh just by recollecting funny shit.

Because if you can do that then–then–then you’d be more like me… Strike that, keep yourself laugh-deprived.

People who make jokes need to start a tradition of occasional allusions to other jokes. All the other art forms do it. They keep each other relevant that way, like academics who quote other academics who quote them. It’s part of the inherent circle-jerk nature of culture.

Here, let me show you–look into this microscope:`Microscope1See?

Now that was a Python joke, from the Scottish UFO skit. Relevant once again thanks to me. And you were going to let that joke die!

Great jokes shouldn’t die. Not right away. They should last as long as great poems, which is like what, 100 years? Something like that.

When great jokes live on within you then you live on within their greatness. And you become more…more…more like me.

Strike that, let ’em die. You don’t want to be like me and laugh out loud by yourself in the supermarket. You can get hauled off for that. And for good reason too–out of context laughter is a threat to any decent social order.

Here, let me show you:`Microscope2

They say that if our memories were too distinct we’d die from all the recollected pain. So if we could remember all the laughs all at once we’d get hauled off.

And then you’d really be like me. And that’s no good.

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Solution to Your Writer’s Block: Shut the Fuck Up!

“When I have nothing to say, my lips are sealed…[because]… I don’t have to prove that I am creative.”
–The Talking Heads (David Byrne) from the songs Psycho Killer and Artists Only

A fan of this blog sent a note saying they were glad that I am “writing again.”

Thanks Mom, but in fact, I am not “writing again.”  If you don’t see anything posted here, it’s because I have nothing to say–period.

And I refuse to force it–no muse, no news.  Why force uninspired verbiage on a world drowning in wasted words?

The biggest mistake is to think of yourself “as a writer” because that inevitably leads to the mistaken notion that “Shit, I’m a writer–I need to write something.”

Wrong!

Rather, there are people with something to say some of the time, and there are people who never have anything to say publicly, and the former is not any better than the latter, and no one–no one!–ever has something worth publicizing all the time.

If you have to force yourself to write something, imagine how excruciating it’s going to be for us to have to read it!  And think of all the genuinely inspired writing that you could be drowning out by forcing your uninspired verbiage upon us.

So think of writer’s block as a muse of its own, a muse that inspires us to shut the fuck up.

An Artist-Writer Dilemma

If you could write the world’s greatest literature (or create the world’s greatest art) on the condition that no one would ever know about it, OR you could write/create the world’s 50th greatest art-lit and everyone would know about it, which would you choose?

My hunch is that most art-litters would take the 50th best spot.

Meaning we’re all just a bunch of publicity whores and no one’s a true artist.

God the truth is so painful!

But here’s where Anthropology [trumpets] can save you yet again:

Anthro-Geek:    “All this proves is the communicative nature of culture, not any deficiency of character on the part of artists and writers, or of humanity in general.”

God the truth is so boring!

Damn you Anthro-Geek, I had a good blanket condemnation going on!  Do you realize what people will give for a good blanket condemnation of other people? Now all I have is this mushy-but-obviously-correct sense of tolerance and understanding.

And that’s got no fucking edge at all! None!

Anthro-Geek:    “As progress is made in the social sciences and filtered out into general society it is natural that new aesthetic standards will arise which require less reliance on the stereotypes, pejoratives, and biases that have been previously debunked by the social sciences.”

All I know is that we’re bleeding readers every time you speak.