The Nature of Humor, Civilization, Egyptian Mythology, and the Blues.

Umm.....ok...so that happened. Would anyone care, learn from, or understand the reference? no? crap.

It appears that writing humor while relatively content is difficult. Almost all of the great thinkers agree with the paraphrased, usually misquoted, almost always taken out of context premise in Plato's Philebus, we see that humor comes from the

...mixture of pleasure and pain that lies in the malice of amusement.

Therefore, armed with that knowledge, we see that self-deprecation or "relational" humor, when one is content, is  forced into stilted falseness or impossible.

Or is it?

</ self important extemporization>


So let's discuss being "civilized" by a significant other; specifically a female other

As many of you may know, I used to write silly crap about the early part of my relationship with my honey, Kat. I used to go and drink heroic amounts of alcohol and hilarious hijinks would ensue. Now, I have almost zero alcohol tolerance, I don't go out much, and I know what "financial planning" actually means. (I used to think it meant "I have money; I will spend it on booze, cars, and women of negotiable affection. I have a plan". Turns out it means "I am broke-ish. I will sock all my money away and pay bills for some reason I haven't quite figured out yet. Because she said so"). She has "A Plan". It totally deserves capital letters and is most certainly on a need-to-know basis. I don't need to know (That seems to be rule #1 of "The Plan")

I think that "The Plan" falls upon my honey like revelations on Joseph Smith. Also,  I think his magic hat is involved, because I can't find my favorite baseball caps. For instance, "The Plan" now involves me selling my precious Star Wars Lego collection to pay for something, someday. (I don't ask.) Due to our current living situation, my Legos are in boxes all jumbled up, so at least I get to put them together one last time, while I mutter something out of a Faulkner novel:

Shhh, Star Destroyer, shhh...tell me about the bunnies....the... <sob>... bunnies. <snap another piece into place>

Another part of "The Plan" involves, and this is the tricky part, NOT buying more Legos. You see the conditions under which I subsist? tragic.

Also, I have had drilled into my skull that I will not be allowed to buy the things I need to enjoy eternity. (An important piece of background information about me is that I am a devout member of the Reformed Church of Egypt; and when I die, I will take my funeral goods with me) So she is actively dooming me to an eternity of pillow shams, Pier 1 Imports soap holders and cat scratching posts.

O Reader, as you can see, your hero in this missive suffers in the gentle fetters of love.

que sera sera.

So watch this space for a delta-blues inspired wailing an gnashing of teeth, next time on Fiascos, Travesties, and Faux Pas.