110520- A joke

.....If you live in the U.S. you may have heard about the fundamentalist Christian who predicted that Armageddon begins tomorrow. (Can you believe he's a self-taught biblical scholar?) According to his interpretation of scripture, the devout will be taken to heaven in the Rapture and the rest of us will stand in the corner and think about what we've done until we all burst into flames in October. You see, one of the problems with self-taught scholars is that they're not always aware of the idiosyncrasies of ancient languages. The books of the Bible have gone through multiple translations, after all, and not everyone is familiar with all of the "i-before-e" type exceptions to the rules in Aramaic and Babylonian. I suspect the whole thing is just a matter of misspelling. Considering how many people in the Bible Belt are overweight, it's more likely that they'll experience the Rupture.

100511- A joke

.....Shortly after President Obama announced that his nominee for Supreme Court Justice was King Solomon there was harsh criticism on talk radio and the blogsphere, much of it repeating Rush Limbaugh's accusation that the nominee was "a radical-left activist who once tried to socialize a baby."

100506- A joke

.....A long time ago there two islands in an ocean far away. One island was populated by trolls and the other by tridds. For as long as either people could remember they had always been engaged in some kind of conflict with each other. These conflicts spanned generations and ranged from shouted insults to full-blown warfare. Eventually, perhaps inevitably, these conflicts were seen for what they were: silly wastes of time and resources. There was always much more to be gained from trade and exchange of technology and culture. To this end they built an enormous suspension bridge connecting the islands at their nearest points, a mere hundred feet apart.

.....One day a little tridd set out to meet a friend on the troll island. Merchants from both sides generally used the bridge in the mornings to get in the most peddling time that they could before heading back at night. The little tridd knew that once they left the beach to head towards the villages that he would have the bridge to himself and could enjoy the view of the surf from a height you couldn't get from either side. He was perhaps a quarter of the way across, eyes to the side, when he bumped into something very large. It was a troll, and a big one even by troll standards. "Oh, excuse me," said the tridd, "I hadn't seen you..." which was even more surprising than the troll's size. The bridge was completely bare when the tridd got to it and as great as this troll's stride may be it must have been quite a feat of stealth for him to cover the remaining three quarters of the suspension bridge from the other side that quickly without being heard. "Where do you think you're going?" growled the troll. Uh-oh. "Ahhh... I'm going to visit a troll friend." said the tridd. "He's expecting me this afternoon." "No you're not." growled the troll. The tridd stepped back at first, then tried quickly running around the troll, who just as quickly snatched him up by the collar and swung him around to face the tridd island. The troll then drop-kicked the tridd in a trajectory that looked like the St. Louis Arch and the tridd landed with a whump on the sandy beach.

.....Stunned, and dizzy from having the wind knocked out of him, it was a few moments before the tridd could lift his head and look back to the bridge. By that time the troll had gone. After checking for broken bones he warily approached the bridge and called out for the troll. There was no response. Had the hostilities resurfaced, the tridd wondered? They had ended before he was born, but everyone knew of them. Then he remembered that the merchants from each island passed each other on this same bridge just that morning with no problem. He called out again; no response. Keeping his eyes straight ahead this time the tridd slowly began walking across the bridge. At ten feet he stopped, squinting to see the other beach. It was clearly empty and so he walked ten feet more. Once he had passed thirty feet he realized that he had gone further than he had made it the first time and relaxed a bit. At fifty feet, however, he felt a tug on his arm and was shocked to see the troll standing beside him. "Hey!" shouted the tridd, "what do you think you're doing?" "This," said the troll, who tossed the tridd straight up and on the way down kicked him twice the distance he had before, all the way back to the tridd island.

.....This time the tridd suspected he may have blacked out. He checked both his bones and his teeth. Everything hurt, but was there and in one piece. The troll was gone, the only thing that morning that wasn't surprising. Before getting anywhere near the bridge again, the tridd walked to one side and peered under the bridge. He knew it was an old stereotype of trolls, and he felt a little silly doing it, but he couldn't figure out how the troll could get close enough to grab him so quickly and without warning. There was nothing under the bridge, on the bridge or on the other end. The tridd then had an idea. He rubbed his muscles a bit, splashed some water on his face and otherwise braced himself. Then he dug into the sand inches from the ramp, favoring one side, and bolted as fast as he could across the bridge. At first glad just to know that he could still run so quickly after being so bruised, he soon became giddy with the suspicion that he might just cross the bridge by doing it in less time than it had previously took the troll to appear. He passed the quarter mark, the half mark and was nearing eighty feet in when he felt his feet fly out from under him and his shoulders slam onto the bridge. The troll picked him up by the shirt and once more drop kicked back to the tridd island.

.....When the troll regained consciousness it was only because he heard a voice. It was a rabbi standing over him with a worried look. "Thank God you're alive!" said the rabbi. "How did you come to be so hurt?" "I didn't come to be hurt," mumbled the tridd, "I came to cross the bridge." "Were you robbed?" asked the rabbi. "No," said the tridd, "if anything, I earned frequent flyer miles." He then proceeded to explain to the rabbi his three failed attempts to cross the bridge, each ending with the troll drop-kicking him back to the tridd island. Frustrated by reliving it, he burst into hysterical sobs. The rabbi looked up and shielded his eyes as he peered across the bridge. "I don't see any troll there now. In fact, I don't see anybody. It should be safe for you to cross now, if you're up to it." The tridd began waving his arms, frantic. "He's never there! He just appears out of nowhere! I never see him, and then he gets me!" screamed the tridd. "Okay, okay, calm down, I believe you," said the rabbi. "Should I talk to him for you? I find that many people tell a stranger things they won't say to each other. Couples, business partners... or maybe I just got that kind of face? Who knows? It's worth a shot." "Look out! Be careful!" shouted the tridd as the rabbi stepped onto the bridge, "He's really big... and really mean!" The rabbi smiled reassuringly to the tridd, but he was a little worried. He wasn't exactly sure what he was walking into; he wasn't exactly sure that the tridd wasn't crazy or lying. All he knew is that he was committed to answering questions and right now he had a few of his own.

.....When the rabbi got to the center of the bridge he stopped and looked around. He called out, "Yoo-hoo! Mr. Troll! Can you hear me?" There was no response, no noise or movement at all. "I'd really like to speak to you," continued the rabbi. "I could hear from you or hear about you, it's your choice." Still nothing.The rabbi kept walking and kept calling out until he found himself on the troll island. A passing troll fisherman waved to the rabbi, the rabbi waved back. It seemed like a normal day. The rabbi walked to the beach so that the tridd could see him, then shrugged his shoulders and threw up his arms. The tridd couldn't believe it. The rabbi then walked back to the tridd island, occasionally looking from side to side. When he stood before the tridd, he held his palms up. "Perhaps he's ashamed. Or perhaps he thought you were dead. You didn't look all that great when I found you. Whatever the reason, the troll seems to have left. You should be able to see your friend now; he may be worried about you." With the rabbi watching him from the beach the tridd gingerly began walking across the suspension bridge. He winced at shadows and stopped once or twice until he seemed to grow comfortable just walking as had first done that morning. But before he made it halfway across, the troll appeared from nowhere and grabbed him. The astonished rabbi watched as the troll drop-kicked the tridd back across the bridge just as the tridd had described to him earlier. The tridd landed in a spray of sand, alive but sniffling, crying and giggling maniacally. It looked as though his mind had snapped. "You there!" shouted the rabbi to the troll before he could disappear again, "What does this mean? Why would you do such a thing? Just moments ago I crossed that bridge myself, two times in fact! You didn't kick me or lay a hand on me or even show yourself at all! This poor tridd could have done nothing to earn such treatment. Why would you not treat him as you treated me?" The troll smiled dementedly. "Silly rabbi," he said, "kicks are for tridds."

100424- A joke

.....They say that God never closes a door without somewhere opening a window. That would explain why he's never been successfully served a subpoena.

100420- A joke

.....Okay, I'll admit it, I'm stuck for a snarky one-liner again. If nobody minds, I'm going to retell a favorite old joke of mine instead:

.....Three men wake up surrounded by clouds. There's a long line of people stretching out on either side of them. As ridiculous as it appears to them, every indication is that they've died and gone to heaven. Everything around them conforms to every corny movie and comic strip cliche they've ever seen. Cherubs are floating around, there's harp music coming from somewhere and off in the distance they can see walls of precious jewels and gates of pearl. "If we're really in heaven," said the first man, "that means we must have died". "Yeah," said the second man, "that makes sense. But I don't remember dying. In fact, I can't remember how I got here at all." The third man shrugged and said, "I can't remember either. But that would kind of make sense. None of us look as old as the people just before and after us. If we died at our age it was probably due to some accident. The mind has a way of protecting itself from traumas. Whatever's too hard to deal with, it just blanks out." "Hey, yeah," said the first man. "I heard about stuff like that. Multiple personalities and obsessions and junk. You don't think we got any of that?" The second man rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't worry about any of that. I mean, I've never met either of you guys, but we all seem to be pretty lucid, considering the circumstances... whatever they were."

.....The third man brightened up. "You know, we could probably help each other. If we're all here together, that may mean that we died within moments of each other. If our deaths were related in any way, we might only be blocking out our own deaths. We might still remember something about each other's." "That's kind of a longshot," said the second man, "since we could have died in different cities." "Well, we'll never know if we don't try.' said the first. " I don't mind going first. Even if it doesn't work, we've got nothing else to do while we're waiting in line."

.....The first man tries to recall: "I don't remember just which day I died, but for a couple of weeks, I had been suspecting that my wife was cheating on me. There were all kinds of hints, but nothing that was really proof, you know? Somebody else's shirt comes back from the dry cleaner, food missing from the fridge, dumb stuff like that. There could have been a bunch of reasons. Then one day I come home and notice an ashtray with a crushed cigarette in the living room. We don't smoke. I ask my wife about it and she said her friend Helen was over that day. She was really defensive about it. But, see, I know Helen and she's been over a lot and that wasn't her brand. And there wasn't any lipstick on this cigarette. I didn't say anything. I just let it go. But it was eating at me, every day. I kept wondering who it could be; was it somebody I knew? did she go looking for somebody? It was driving me nuts. One day, I couldn't stand it. I left work early and went home. When I got to the apartment, I took the stairs up and used my key on the door. The chain was on, but through the door I could hear voices suddenly stop. I called out that it was me, that she left the chain on and I needed her to open the door. Suddenly I heard a lot of scuffling and clattering. I asked her if she was alright, if there was somebody in there. She told me she'd be right there but it must have been at least another five minutes before she opened the door, wearing a towel and looking really guilty. 'What d'you want? I was taking a shower.' she said. I told her her hair wasn't wet and asked her if I checked the bathtub if that would be dry too? She looked pretty shocked. I guess she thought I was pretty stupid just because she'd been getting away with this so far. I demanded to know where he was. She kept pretending she didn't know what I was talking about. That's when I really lost it. I started tearing through the apartment checking every room, every closet, pulling out drawers, raving like a maniac. I kept screaming, 'Where is he? Where is he?' Then I noticed the sliding glass door that leads to the fire escape was open. It's right between the kitchen area and the living room. I rushed to it and looked down and sure enough, there was a guy sneaking down the stairs! I freaked out! The nearest thing to me was the refrigerator, so I grabbed it and started pushing. I was just burning adrenaline, my wife was screaming at me but I couldn't hear anything... and then... and then... I must have blacked out. I don't think you can die from a hernia, but pushing that fridge onto the fire escape must have given me a heart attack. Hey, I figured out how I died!"

.....The first man was so happy to have worked out the mystery he forgot how angry he had gotten remembering his wife's infidelity. The second man, however, looked angry enough for both of them. "What's wrong with you?" asked the first man. "Oh, I'll tell you what's wrong" said the second man. "I used to work as a meter reader. I used to hate reading meters in the city because you're supposed to be able to go into a building's basement and read every unit's meter at once. That would make it easy, but there's always someone tapping a line, trying to get free juice. So I gotta go up and down the fire escapes looking for illegal splices. One day, I hear some idiot screaming so I stop and look up. The next thing I know, a giant black rectangle comes zooming at me and... bang! Nothing. That's the last thing I remember before I wound up here. With you."

.....The first man looked furious. "You mean it was you?!?" The second man screamed back, "Me? You're the one who--" and the two began throwing punches and clawing at each other. An angel came swooping in from somewhere nearby and pleaded, "Oooh, stop! You must stop at once!" but the two men were absorbed in their scuffle. "You simply can't do this! There's no fighting in Heaven! It isn't allowed." The third man looked back and forth between the angel and the brawl until the angel sighed and pulled a lever only it could see. The clouds dropped out from under the fighting men and they plummeted downward and downward, their yelling gradually fading for what seemed like several minutes, punctuated by a tiny pinhole of flame below. "Oh, I so wished that wouldn't be necessary." pined the angel. "I tried to warn them. What a senseless, needless waste. They were even within sight of the gates! What could possibly make someone throw all that away?" The third man cleared his throat. "Well, we were all trying to recall the events that led us here. It must have brought up some bad memories for them. They didn't even get to hear how I died." "I've heard so many over the ages," said the angel, "I can't imagine how one more would surprise me." The third man chuckled, "Well, this is going to sound weird, but the last thing I remember is, I was hiding in a refrigerator."

100405- A joke

.....After Easter there are always some lapsed Catholics who wonder why they only go to church three or four times a year. They weren't all traumatized by power-tripping clergy; some just drift away. For them, I think it's because the organization obsesses over its own hierarchy, which is needlessly elaborate and byzantine. For instance, non-Catholics are aware of major holidays like Christmas, Easter, All Saints Day, Ash Wednesday, etc., but they probably don't realize that every date on the calendar is a Catholic holiday of some kind or another. It's because there are more saints than there are days in a year. The Vatican just refuses to let go of any excuse for bureaucracy, plain and simple. Today is a perfect example: April 5th is St. Smedley Day, named for Smedley, the patron saint of comic-opera naval officers. Tomorrow is set aside for Ste. Ratchettatatata, Our Lady of Rotary Phones. Does anybody still pray to her? The last I heard, the abbess tending her shrine had been deaf for years. I say the Vatican should establish a hall of fame and retire inactive saints just to streamline the schedule. If you have any saints in mind that everyone else has forgotten and would like to see them step aside for more relevant saints, leave a note in the comments.

100404- A joke

.....You don't hear people complain too much about the commercialization of Easter the same way they complain about the commercialization of Christmas. It could be that Easter coincides with most people's spring cleaning and they're psychologically more prepared to divest themselves of material clutter and clear things out than to 'harvest' doo-dads at year's end. They devote less time to outdoor light displays when the nights get shorter and the sun's arc takes it higher. Then, there's the simple fact that most of the pop-culture trappings we associate with both holidays were clearly stolen from pagan rites and customs with the deliberate purpose of undermining what were then rival faiths. Knowing this, early state governments in this country banned most Christmas celebrations for years. No such outrage over Easter. Of course, when you think about it, exchanging traditional, historical imagery such as crucifixion (Sado-Masochism) and resurrection (necromancy) for purloined pagan fertility symbols like chocolate (opiates) and rabbits (sex addiction) might just be seen as an upgrade in some quarters.

100318- A joke

.....Speaking as someone who doesn't have any kinks or fetishes, I'd like to reassure those who do that, yes, you're not imagining things, it is indeed freaky when mass media pretends they've never heard of such things before. For instance, one of the latest practices they can't seem to get over is related to anthropomorphism: couples (and sometimes groups) dressing as animals. I don't get the appeal, but I also don't have a problem with couples doing things for each other rather than for me. Unfortunately there's a whole industry built around convincing the public that it needs protection ("make your checks payable to...") from this silliness. Sorry, but I can't seriously believe that mixing nookie and play-pretend is sufficient grounds for eternal damnation, as a cable preacher recently implied. Especially not the women dressed as cows or deer. Because after all, everybody knows hell hath no furries like a woman horned.

100317- A joke

.....For St. Patrick's Day, I felt I should forego tired old cracks about alcohol and leprechauns. I'm not above stealing material (a joke every day without fail is easy some days and nearly impossible others). The thing is, falling back on ethnic stereotypes feels even more lazy than it does offensive. I would like to think I had more self-respect than that. Instead, I'd like to use today's space to send out a warm, traditional Irish welcome to the man who has done the most to keep the spirit and memory of St.Patrick alive in these modern times: Mr. Samuel L. Jackson. Because let's face it, if you're overrun with snakes, who are the two people you think of?

100314- A joke

.....A religious conference was being conducted in the American South and delegates from all over the world were attending. A southern Baptist preacher went to an airport in D.C. to pick up two attendees that he offered to drive the rest of the way. He greeted the rabbi from Israel and the brahmin from India and once they reached the highway exit he told them, "Since we don't really need to register until tomorrow, I figured I'd treat you boys to the scenic route and get to know the real America. Y'all need a chance to see people who live Christianity every day, not just lecture about it." His two guests agreed this would be a good idea and as soon as they reached the Virginia border he chose an exit that would take them through farm country where they saw everything from Little League games to prisoner work details. They stopped at privately owned general stores and mini-strip malls, saw barbecue picnics and humble wooden churches.

.....In fact, they were enjoying themselves so much that they lost track of time. It was already pretty dark when they ran out of gas on a country road , and to make matters worse, it started raining heavily. Seeing a small farmhouse, they hurried to it and knocked on the door. Although it was late, the farmer answered warily and when the preacher explained the situation the farmer replied, "Well, come in out of he rain. You're certainly welcome to spend the night, but your real problem is they ain't no place to sleep. I only got one bed for me and the wife. The couch there is good for one more and I guess one of you could use my old army cot. But once you set that up there really isn't even any floor space. Tell you what though, that barn out back has gotta be dry as a bone. It don't look like much outside, but I make a point of keeping it water-proof. I can't afford any sick animals. But whoever sleeps out there would have to make do with a bale of hay."

....."This is not a problem," said the brahmin, "comfort is just a material concern. Many in my homeland survive with less. If I face a necessary hardship in this life it only means I will be that much closer to enlightenment in the next. I would be honored to sleep in the barn." With that settled, the farmer pointed out the path to the barn and the brahmin disappeared into the rain.

.....Twenty minutes later there was a knock on the door. It was the brahmin. "I apologize. I cannot tell you how embarrassing this is, but whenever I lay down on the hay, the cow nearest me would get up and move. They apparently are not accustomed to sleeping near humans. I cannot bring myself to cause an innocent animal discomfort. It could come to bear very negatively in my next life!" "Don't worry about it," said the rabbi. "There's no real harm done. You can take my place and I'll sleep in the barn. Jews have faced persecution for thousands of years. If the worst I have to complain about is roughing it for a night, I should consider myself lucky." And so the rabbi disappeared into the rain.

.....Twenty minutes later there was a knock on the door. "God strike me down for a fool! What was I thinking! Of course there are going to be pigs in the barn! As matter of fact, there were cloven hooves all over the place out there. I thought I could just ignore it, but... I can't sleep out there. It may be clean, but it isn't pure." "Oh, for cryin' out loud!" shouted the preacher. "I can't believe a bunch of grown men can't just make do! I never heard of such a ridiculous bunch of--" and continued blustering on his way out the door, "-- in all my days, so help me, Jesus, if I ever so much as--" and so on, his voice gradually fading as he made his way down the path, eventually lost in the sound of the rain.

.....Twnety minutes later there was a knock on the door. It was the pig and the cow.

100310- A joke

.....Have you been swept in right-wing pseudo-Christian hysteria during the last thirty years? Have you said a lot of rabidly intolerant, decidedly un-Christian things? In print? On video? Worried that people you know might find that online screed from a few years ago where you declared that left-handed people were evil and should be publicly executed? Embarrassing, isn't it? Well, rather than pretend that your mistakes didn't happen, or that they aren't mistakes, why not own up to them and learn from them? Rather than pretend that there's a religious basis for your behavior, you could actually have a religious basis for your behavior. Just ask yourself: WWBRFD? What Would Buddha Refrain From Doing?