Are You Trying to Be Funny?

APORIA

An Englishman, A Scotsman and an Irishman walk into a Bar - 

The Barman says, 
"Is This a Joke?" 

 Elsewhere, 

 A Policeman walks into different Bar - 

"Ow!!", he says. 

Meanwhile, Back at The Ranch, 

There was a Tap at The Window. 

What a stupid place to put one..

There are these two fish, that’re side-by-side in a tank -

One turns to the other and says, 

“I hope you know how to drive this thing.”

Witness #1 : 

This ‘Condition’ of Yours.... The Laughing.

Is it Real? Or some sort of Clown Thing?

The Clown : 

“A •Clown• Thing”...?

Witness #1 : 

Yeah - I mean.... Is it part of Your Act...?

The Clown : 

What Do •You• Think...?

The Heel turns on his heel;

He Blows Smoke;

Tosses away The Flame;

Turns his back on The Two Witness and walks away in disgust, straight into an Emergency;

Attempting to Go In Through The Out Door, he encounters Reality by colliding violently with one of its Walls you cannot see;

He waves at an electronic, all-seeing magickal eye (that isn’t there), trying in vain to attract its attention

Witness # 1 : 

It’s, ah “EXIT ONLY”....

1. What do you call a joke that isn't funny?

A sentence.

2. Want to hear something that will make you smile?

Your facial muscles.

3. What do you call a pencil sharpener that can't sharpen pencils?

Broken.

4. Where was the Constitution signed?

The bottom.

5. What do you get when you mix and a goat and a sheep?

A geep.

6. What do you call a talking turtle?

Fictional.

7. What ended after 1987?

1988.

8. What did one stranger say to the other?

Nothing. They didn't know each other.

9. What does one French Guy say to another French Guy?

My name is also guy.

10. Why did the dinosaur say "hello" to the little girl?

He was being polite.

11. What's brown and sticky?

A stick.

12. How does the white-tail deer jump higher than the average house?

This is due to their powerful hind legs and the fact that the average house can't jump.

13. You know what's really odd?

Numbers that aren't divisible by two.

14. I can still remember my Grandpa's last words before he kicked the bucket.

He said, "Hey, how far do you think I can kick this bucket?"

15. My girlfriend is like an iPhone 7.

She doesn't have a headphone jack.

16. What do an elephant and a grape have in common?

One of them is purple.

17. Why did the chicken cross the road?

Chickens do not have the cognitive ability to reason. Therefore, it was random.

18. A proton walks into a bar.

No one noticed it because protons are tiny and everywhere.

19. Why do we dress baby boys in blue and baby girls in pink?

Because they can't dress themselves.

20. Yo mama's so fat…

She should be concerned because diabetes is a serious health issue.

21. What do you call a man with a shovel in his head?

An ambulance, due to the fact that he has a rather serious head wound.

22. What's yellow and is something you shouldn't drink?

A school bus.

23. What did the cowboy say at his second rodeo?

"This ain't my first rodeo!"

24. When birds fly in a V, why is one side always longer than the other?

Because there are more birds on one side.

25. What's red and bad for your teeth?

A brick.

26. I have glasses but cannot see. I have feet but cannot walk. What am I?

A riddle.

27. Why does Micheal J. Fox make the best milkshakes?

Because he uses the finest ingredients.

28. Why did the dinosaur eat the baby?

He didn't. Humans did not appear until after the extinction of dinosaurs.

29. How do you confuse a blonde?

Paint yourself green and throw forks at her.

30. Why did the swan hiss?

Biologically, it's coded in their genes to do so when threatened.

31. Knock, knock

I wonder who is at the door. I hope they know a good joke, since levity in important in this cruel life. You have to smile sometimes.

32. What did one lawyer say to the other lawyer?

"We're both lawyers!"

33. Why are there no Jewish people on Uranus?

The nature of the planet does not sustain human life.

34. What's white and annoying at breakfast?

An avalanche.

35. What's funny about five people in a Chevy Suburban driving off a cliff?

Nothing. They were my friends.

36. You can pick your nose and you can pick your friends…

But you can't rob a bank. That's a felony.

37. Why is there no aspirin in the rainforest?

Because it wouldn't be financially viable to try and sell pharmaceuticals in the vastly unpopulated rainforest.

38. You can tell a lot about a woman's mood just by her hands.

For example, if she's holding a gun, she's probably angry.

39. What's the difference between bubble wrap and a carrot?

No one eats carrots.

40. What do you call a medical student that graduated last in their class?

Doctor.

41. I ain't sayin' she's a gold digger…

But she did move to California in 1849.

42. What's green and has wheels?

Grass. I lied about the wheels.

43. What do you call 100 lawyers at the bottom of the ocean?

A horrible boating accident.

44. How is a laser beam similar to a goldfish?

Neither one can whistle.

45. What did one ant say to the other ant?

Nothing, ants communicate by pheromones, not speech.

46. Why are hamsters like cigarettes?

They're completely harmless until you put one in your mouth and light it on fire.

47. If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it…

Then my illegal logging company is a success.

48. Have you seen Stevie Wonder's house?

It's very tastefully furnished.

49. How do you empty a pool full of Canadians?

Politely but firmly tell them, "Get out of the pool, please!"

50. What's orange and tastes like an orange?

An orange.

51. What do you call a deer with no eyes?

A deer. The absence of eyes doesn't change the species.

52. What's blue and smells like red paint?

Blue paint.

53. A gorilla walks into a bar and orders a banana martini.

The bartender thinks this is peculiar and realizes it is because he is actually dreaming. The man wakes up from the dream and begins to tell his wife all about it. His wife simply ignores him and goes back to sleep. The man rolls over and begins to sob as he realizes his marriage is in shambles.

54. What do a duck and a bicycle have in common?

They both have handlebars… except for the duck.

55. How many Germans does it take to change a lightbulb?

One. They're a very efficient people.

56. Why isn't Helen Keller a good driver?

Because she passed away in 1968 and the deceased are incapable of operating automobiles..

57. What did one cannibal say to the other after eating a clown?

"We're gonna get in big trouble for this!"

58. A horse walks into a bar and the bartender asks him, "Why the long face?"

The horse says, "Evolution."

59. How tall is the Empire State Building?

One Empire State Building tall.

60. What's worse than finding a worm in your apple?

Finding a worm in your caramel apple. They usually cost more.

THE CULT OF REASON

“They’ve chased God from Notre-Dame. That huge, hollow barn is to be regarded now as a Cathedral dedicated only to REASON. Is there an irony there? I don’t know.

Reason sits in God’s vacant throne while we celebrate The Red Mass of Saint Guillotine.

People are Mad.

See there, above the lintel : 

‘Death is a Sleep Forever.”

Heaven is abolished and in it’s place they’re promising   UTOPIA here on Earth.

Jesus! How many heads must we strike off? How big must the Mountain of Corpses be before we can glimpse utopia from it’s peak?

The official nationwide Fête de la Raison, supervised by Hébert and Momoro on 20 Brumaire, Year II (10 November 1793) came to epitomize the new republican way of religion. 

In ceremonies devised and organised by Chaumette, churches across France were transformed into modern Temples of Reason. 

The largest ceremony of all was at the cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris. 

The Christian altar was dismantled and an altar to Liberty was installed and the inscription "To Philosophy" was carved in stone over the cathedral's doors.

Festive girls in white Roman dress and tricolor sashes milled around a costumed Goddess of Reason who "impersonated Liberty".

A flame burned on the altar which was symbolic of Truth.

To avoid statuary and idolatry, the Goddess figures were portrayed by living women, and in Paris the role was played by Momoro's own wife Sophie, who is said to have dressed "provocatively" and, according to Thomas Carlyle, "made one of the best Goddesses of Reason; though her teeth were a little defective."

Before his retirement, Georges Danton had warned against dechristianizers and their "rhetorical excesses", but support for the Cult only increased in the zealous early years of the First Republic. By late 1793, it was conceivable that the Convention might accept the invitation to attend the Paris festival en masse, but the unshakeable opposition of Maximilien Robespierre and others like him prevented it from becoming an official affair.

Undeterred, Chaumette and Hébert proudly led a sizable delegation of deputies to Notre Dame.

“The French people recognize the Supreme Being and the immortality of the soul” (printed in 1794)

2020

My Name is Doktor von Wer - 

I am an Exo-Colonial Earth Examiner to The Planet Vulcan!

EXAMINER:

Hello?

(A newcomer has entered the clearing.)

EXAMINER: 

Hello? Is there anyone there? Hello? 

Hello? Why don't they come? 

(sees The Doctor) 

Ah, so you've come at last. 

I'm from Earth. I'm The Examiner.

(There's a gun shot. The man crumples to the ground. Horrified, the Doctor's about to dive for cover then pauses and, keeping low, approaches the fallen figure. He rolls the man over, and sees that he is dead. Searching for some kind of identification, the Doctor finds a large round badge. Automatically reaching into his top pocket he pulls out a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and puts them on. He squints at the badge and moves it backwards and forwards, trying to focus on it, yet all he can see is a misty blur. He removes the spectacles and tries again. This time the text is clear.)

THE COSMIC HOBO : 

Earth Examiner. Accord every access. Vulcan.

Young Thor

Turning Gray in The Process, 
I Have Become What I was Hero-Worshipping. 

“Sometimes the exchange of gold takes the form of hero worship. 

For a ten-year-old boy, his twelve-year-old neighbor is a hero. 

The ten-year-old wants to imitate him. He walks like him. 

He wears shoes just like his. 

He borrows his vocabulary and hangs around him as much as he can. 

We all know the power of fashion, and especially how fashion runs through a neighborhood of adolescents. 

The style of shoes, prisoner pants, all those things you’ve got to have. 

It’s both inspiring and funny to watch somebody hero-worship.

Excerpt from: "Inner Gold: Understanding Psychological Projection" by Arnie Kotler. Scribd.

Two years later, when the ten-year-old is twelve, he has become the characteristics that he projected onto the twelve-year-old. He assimilated them back and became them. Now he hero-worships a fourteen-year-old and has a new ladder to climb.

I remember vividly my own early hero worshipping. It was so strong. Slowly and painfully, I’ve drawn those hero-worship projections— this placing of my own potential onto others—back to myself.

Turning Gray in The Process, 
I Have Become What I was Hero-Worshipping. 

Hunting for Gold 

"When I was fourteen, I drove with my grandmother to Spokane, Washington, to attend a family funeral. 

One of my cousins, a little older than I, had married, and I saw her husband for the first time. 

Instantly, he became my hero. I was unstable in that period of my life. 

My feet didn’t work well, and I hadn’t really entered the masculine world—I’m not greatly endowed in that direction.

 His name was Thor. 

He was of Norwegian ancestry, in his early twenties, a big, strong guy, an absolute Master of The Physical World. 

That fellow did something so kind and important for me. 

The day after the funeral, he plucked me out of the family gathering and took me into the woods to go hunting, the first and last hunting I’ve ever done.

 He sensed who I was, what I needed, and at what speed to initiate me. 

He knew I had to be told which end of the gun to point where, and he did it all so well. 

He was a God-Man, someone of infinitely high value for me. I was envious and bound to him, almost literally. 

I placed my feet in his footsteps as we walked through The Forest, giddy with his greatness. 

Suddenly he stopped and said,  
“Squirrel on a limb. 
Over there.” 

Ten or twenty yards away was a squirrel on a pine branch. 

“All right,” 
he said, and told me exactly what to do: 

“Line this up with the squirrel. 

Pull the trigger gently, so you don’t jiggle the gun and lose him out of sight. 

It’ll go bang in your ear. 

Don’t be afraid.” 

I did it, and of course I thought I’d missed the squirrel. 

“Come on,” he said, and we went over. 

And lo and behold, I hadn’t missed. 

There on the ground under the limb was a ragged, bloody mess of a squirrel. 

I was so proud and so horrified at the same time. 

I learned in a split second what heroism costs you and what it gives you. 

I had become a big man, but I couldn’t stand it. 

I did not want to shoot squirrels. 

We went back Home, and I was more pleased than unhappy. 

Forty years later, I got a letter from my cousin, Thor’s wife:

“You must be Bob. My granddaughter brought a book home from her psychology class by Robert Johnson, and I think it must be you.” 

I hadn’t seen or heard from her in more than forty years. We spoke on the phone, and she asked if she could visit for her sixtieth birthday.

What a wonderful time we had! She brought a small entourage of people, among whom was a young Thor, the grandson of my hero. 

He was the same age I had been when I knew the first Thor. And he was skinny and frightened, the way I’d been, quickly going down in the whirlpool of the modern world. 

My head was swimming with possibilities. 

So I entertained young Thor with the story of my first and only hunting trip, talking about his grandfather and the wonderful day he had given me. 

Unfortunately, the elder Thor had drunk himself to death and was pretty much a failure in his life. My cousin had divorced him, and he just went down skid row. 

I didn’t like hearing this. 

He had been my hero.

So I told this little guy, who hadn’t said a word,  

“I owe your grandfather an immense debt, 

and I transfer that debt to you. 

I owe you whatever you need from me.” 

The boy latched on to me immediately, and I became his hero. It was a beautiful exchange. 

This is Alchemical Gold.

You put your own gold onto somebody until you’re able to hold it yourself. 

As a fourteen-year-old, I couldn’t do what Thor could. 

He was twenty-four or twenty-five, and I put my gold onto him, the gold of masculinity, strength, courage, and independence, things I had none of and he had lots.

Over the course of forty years, I got my gold back. I didn’t do it by way of guns — I’ve never shot a gun since. 

I was acutely aware of all this as I sat next to Young Thor. 

“I have gold for you,” 

I said. 

Of course, it was his Gold, 

or it wouldn’t work. 

I couldn’t give him anything. 

But I could carry his gold, 

if he chose to allow me. 

And he did, because 

I’m More Like Him 

and He’s More Like Me 

Than either of us is Like His Grandfather.

I’ve made My Way in This World by a series of carriers of specific Gold. 

With the aid of Heroes, I’ve proceeded in The Way an alpine climber hammers in his piton, secures his rope, pulls himself up to the piton, and gets hold of it. 

This is how we grow.
That's How Winnin' is Done.

Everyone comes to be where he or she is now, to some extent, through The Exchange of Gold.

A Transparent Front for a Greedy Dragon

Dosh 4 Gold

“The exchange of gold is a mysterious process. 

It is our gold, but it’s too heavy for us, so we need someone else to carry it for a time. 

That person becomes synonymous with meaning. 

We follow him with an eagle eye wherever he goes. 

His smile can raise us to heavenly heights, his frown will hurl us to hellish depths, so great is the power of meaning. 

Hero Worship 

Sometimes the exchange of gold takes the form of hero worship. 

For a ten-year-old boy, his twelve-year-old neighbor is a hero. 

The ten-year-old wants to imitate him. He walks like him. He wears shoes just like his. He borrows his vocabulary and hangs around him as much as he can. 

We all know the power of fashion, and especially how fashion runs through a neighborhood of adolescents. 

The style of shoes, prisoner pants, all those things you’ve got to have. 

It’s both inspiring and funny to watch somebody hero-worship. Two years later, when the ten-year-old is twelve, he has become the characteristics that he projected onto the twelve-year-old. 

He assimilated them back and became them. 

Now he hero-worships a fourteen-year-old and has a new ladder to climb. 

I remember vividly my own early hero worshipping. It was so strong. 

Slowly and painfully, I’ve drawn those hero-worship projections—this placing of my own potential onto others—back to myself. 

Turning gray in the process, I have become what I was hero-worshipping. 

Hunting for Gold 

When I was fourteen, I drove with my grandmother to Spokane, Washington, to attend a family funeral. 

One of my cousins, a little older than I, had married, and I saw her husband for the first time. 

Instantly, he became my hero. I was unstable in that period of my life. 

My feet didn’t work well, and I hadn’t really entered the masculine world—I’m not greatly endowed in that direction.

 His name was Thor. 

He was of Norwegian ancestry, in his early twenties, a big, strong guy, an absolute Master of The Physical World. 

That fellow did something so kind and important for me. 

The day after the funeral, he plucked me out of the family gathering and took me into the woods to go hunting, the first and last hunting I’ve ever done.

 He sensed who I was, what I needed, and at what speed to initiate me. 

He knew I had to be told which end of the gun to point where, and he did it all so well. 

He was a God-Man, someone of infinitely high value for me. I was envious and bound to him, almost literally. 

I placed my feet in his footsteps as we walked through The Forest, giddy with his greatness. 

Suddenly he stopped and said, “Squirrel on a limb. Over there.” 

Ten or twenty yards away was a squirrel on a pine branch. 

“All right,” he said, and told me exactly what to do: 

“Line this up with the squirrel. 

Pull the trigger gently, so you don’t jiggle the gun and lose him out of sight. 

It’ll go bang in your ear. 

Don’t be afraid.” 

I did it, and of course I thought I’d missed the squirrel. 

“Come on,” he said, and we went over. 

And lo and behold, I hadn’t missed. 

There on the ground under the limb was a ragged, bloody mess of a squirrel. 

I was so proud and so horrified at the same time. 

I learned in a split second what heroism costs you and what it gives you. 

I had become a big man, but I couldn’t stand it. 

I did not want to shoot squirrels. 

We went back home, and I was more pleased than unhappy. 

So I told this little guy, who hadn’t said a word, “I owe your grandfather an immense debt, and I transfer that debt to you. I owe you whatever you need from me.” The boy latched on to me immediately, and I became his hero. It was a beautiful exchange. This is alchemical gold.

You put your own gold onto somebody until you’re able to hold it yourself. As a fourteen-year-old, I couldn’t do what Thor could. He was twenty-four or twenty-five, and I put my gold onto him, the gold of masculinity, strength, courage, and independence, things I had none of and he had lots.

Over the course of forty years, I got my gold back. I didn’t do it by way of guns—I’ve never shot a gun since.

I was acutely aware of all this as I sat next to young Thor. “I have gold for you,” I said. Of course, it was his gold, or it wouldn’t work. I couldn’t give him anything. But I could carry his gold, if he chose to allow me. And he did, because I’m more like him and he’s more like me than either of us is like his grandfather.

I’ve made my way in this world by a series of carriers of specific gold. With the aid of heroes, I’ve proceeded in the way an alpine climber hammers in his piton, secures his rope, pulls himself up to the piton, and gets hold of it. This is how we grow. Everyone comes to be where he or she is now, to some extent, through the exchange of gold.

Sometimes We Have to Struggle

When the exchange of gold proceeds well, we mature and eventually become strong enough to ask for our gold back. It might be awkward at first. We might have to slam the door as we exit, to convince ourselves that we’re leaving. We act in this kind of adolescent way, clumsy at retrieving our gold, because we don’t re- ally understand what’s going on. Carrying someone’s gold is a fine art and a high responsibility. If you are the recipient of someone’s gold, hold it carefully and be prepared to give it back within a microsecond’s notice.

Unfortunately, there are people who collect gold and refuse to give it back. It’s a kind of murder. They collect an entourage or followers and exploit them. It happened to me, and it was exceedingly painful.



My father didn’t really father me, and so much of the fatherly gold in me was  uninvested. I spent a good part of my early life looking for the father I never had.  One day when I was in my twenties, a man came into my life who seemed ideal for  this investment of gold. He acted like a father and let it be known that he would  carry the masculine archetype for me. I trusted him and was ready for a wise, old  man to guide me to the next stage of life. Here was someone in whose glory I  could bask. I gave him my gold, and it was a wonderful experience—for a few days.   


Within a week, he began manipulating and dominating me, organizing my life  and using me. I could have stayed, and that would have been the price for storing  my fatherly gold with him. But I already knew too much to allow him to keep it. So I  asked for my gold back. He wouldn’t return it. He wanted to continue the manipulation. I had to fight with him, not with blows, but psychologically. I fought my way out of his orbit, and there is still enmity between us. It was a bitter experience.   


Our culture understands little about these matters, so when we ask the other  person for our gold back, she probably won’t know what we’re talking about. She  might say, “Last week you were opening doors for me and treating me like a  princess, and this week you’re ignoring me.” People don’t understand the dynamics. It is only after you get your gold back that you can see the gold of the other person.

 When the time is right, when you are ready to bear the weight, you must get  your gold back. If you can do it with dignity and tact, that’s best.


But you must get  it back, one way or another. 

SPORT

KENT

Is not this your son, my lord?

GLOUCESTER

His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have

so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am

brazed to it.

KENT

I cannot conceive you.

GLOUCESTER

Sir, this young fellow's mother could: whereupon

she grew round-wombed, and had, indeed, sir, a son

for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed.

Do you smell a fault?

KENT

I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it

being so proper.

GLOUCESTER

But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year

elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account:

though this knave came something saucily into the

world before he was sent for, yet was his mother

fair; there was good sport at his making, and the

whoreson must be acknowledged

Bruce Wayne: 

Targetting me won't get their money back.

I knew the mob won't go down without a fight, but this is different. 

They've crossed the line.

Alfred Pennyworth: 

You've crossed the line first, sir. 

You squeezed them, you hammered to the point of desperation. 

And in their desperation, they turned to a man they didn't fully understand.

Bruce Wayne: 

Criminals aren't complicated, Alfred. 

We just need to figure out what he's after.

Alfred Pennyworth: 

With respect, Master Wayne, perhaps this is a man you don't fully understand either. 

A long time ago, I was in Burma. 

My friends and I were working for the local government.

 

They'd been trying to buy the loyalty of tribal leaders by bribing them with precious stones. 

But their caravans were being raided in the forests north of Rangoon by a bandit. 

So we went looking for the stones. 

But in six months, we never met anyone who traded with him.

 

One day, I saw a child playing with a ruby the size of a tangerine. 

The bandit had been throwing them away.

Bruce Wayne: 

So why steal them?

Alfred Pennyworth: 

Oh, because he thought it was good sport. 

Because some men aren't looking for anything logical, like money. 

They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. 

Some men just want to watch the world burn.

[Later, as the two discuss Rachel's death]

Bruce Wayne:

That bandit, in the forest in Burma - did you catch him?

Alfred Pennyworth:

Yes.

Bruce Wayne:

How?

Alfred Pennyworth:

We burned the forest down.

Let Me Go

ALL of Shakespeare is about The Life and Mindset of The Exile - ALL of It.

Moses, Son of Rameses :

I'm told I should address you as Ramses The Great, now.

Pharaoh Rameses III, 

Son of Rameses :

Moses...

You're alive. I'm glad you're alive.

Moses, Son of Rameses :

Really? Is that why you only sent two assassins to kill me?

Pharaoh Rameses III, 

Son of Rameses :

My mother.....

Moses, Son of Rameses :

Don't blame her.

Pharaoh Rameses III, 

Son of Rameses :

She wanted you dead. 

Who do you think hid your sword where you would find it?

Moses.

Moses, Son of Rameses :

I'm not here...

To take your throne.

It's not about the prophecy that worries you so much. 

This is something else.

I have been told...

that things here have become...

Much worse.

Pharaoh Rameses III, 

Son of Rameses :

Things are better than

they ever have been, Moses.

Moses, 

Son of Rameses :

No.

Pharaoh Rameses III, 

Son of Rameses :

We have order.

Moses, 

Son of Rameses :

Order? Order?

The slaves...

their bodies burn night and day now. I've seen it with my own eyes.

You call that order?

Pharaoh Rameses III, 

Son of Rameses :

They're slaves. What would you expect?

Moses, 

Son of Rameses :

No, they're not.

They're Egyptians, they should be treated as Egyptians.

They should have the same rights.

They should be paid for their work or... you must set them free.

Pharaoh Rameses III, 

Son of Rameses :

They are not Egyptians.

They are slaves, Moses.

What else do you expect?

They wouldn't know what to do if all of a sudden they were left

to fend for themselves like animals.

Moses, 

Son of Rameses :

Do not call them animals!

Pharaoh Rameses III, 

Son of Rameses :

Listen, from an economic standpoint alone what you're asking... is problematic to say the least.

Moses, 

Son of Rameses :

I didn't expect to hear a simple ‘Yes’ - 

But I do not want to hear a simple ‘No.’

Is that what you are telling me?

Are you saying no?

I'm not saying no. 

I'm saying ‘time’.

Moses, 

Son of Rameses :

Time.

Pharaoh Rameses III, 

Son of Rameses :

You're listening to Hebrews.

Moses, 

Son of Rameses :

I'm not listening to Hebrews.

Pharaoh Rameses III, 

Son of Rameses :

Who are you talking to?

Moses, 

Son of Rameses :

God.

Pharaoh Rameses III, 

Son of Rameses :

God.

Which God?