Thanks to two gentlemen of my acquaintance, one of whom I may or may not have married, I have dredged up my old nemesis topic: what the hell is “funny” anyway?
Richard, another young man of my acquaintance, has a favorite joke of all time: “Knock, knock.” “Who’s there?” “I eat mop.” “I eat mop who?” “Yuck, that’s disgusting.” (Do I need to tell you that it’s phonetic?)
See, I don’t think that joke is funny. I do think it’s funny to watch people get it, but not the joke itself. Richard (a.k.a. @rmangaha) still laughs every time.
Did you laugh? Be honest, I won’t tell anyone. This joke may fall into the category of burp and fart humor, or is it may be a clever manipulation of phonemes for an unexpected result. Surprise is funny. Clever twists are funny. To many people, poo is funny.
The two gentlemen in the opening paragraph have embarked on a joke-writing marathon similar to the ones all of you so patiently endured when I did it. I wish them luck. I’m not allowed to participate. That’s what restarted me thinking about what “funny” is. I still have no idea. I will, however, repeat my favorite joke that I wrote during my time in the trenches:
Saint Peter goes to a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist asks, “What seems to be the problem?” Saint Peter says, “I see dead people.”
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