Jokelore

When I was young, I observed nine out of ten things I did were failures. So I did ten times more work. - George Bernard Shaw.

I used to tell jokes when I was young. Nine out of ten times nobody laughed; it was awkward and insulting for the most part. However that one time left everybody *ROFL*ing, and it inspired me to tell 10 times more jokes, in fact saying nothing which isn’t funny! (At least to me) This led to many problems and unfunny situations (especially among teachers), I was thought simple, retard, insane but that’s exactly how my passion grew. Finally, with all the efforts and sweat, waiting for days, months even years to crack a joke, to find a perfect timing, I can say, with immense pleasure and no regrets that I have turned my life upside down. I am a living joke *SOBS* and have managed to remain funny.

                                                               There were many victims of this transitional phase who simply could not understand why I talked trash until I came up with something funny. After they have had their share of laugh, they were left wondering what a foolish, worthless and unproductive thing it was to do.

It was true, I was desperate so instead of waiting for situations in which a joke could dissolve itself intangibly, I created situations, and I manufactured sets out of living people to execute my play. While it was not a victimless crime, it was funny and pathetic.

                                                                After a while, much to my surprise, I had an image. People smiled hearing my name, ‘oh yes, I was the funny guy”.  I was funny and it was the only reason I was taken seriously too! Some people however knew what an over thinking and manipulative bastard I was, who were they? They were the joke. I was able to make fun of people who knew what degenerate low-life I was because guess what, they were never offended and most of the times understood little.

                                                                 Now, when you’re at the top of the chain, when you command all the laughs, there is always some foul-breathed miser trying to get lower than you already are. I have faced many. Game of joke-telling is more like game of chess; you have to anticipate moves of your opponents when he is setting the circumstances for its execution. There’s a choice, you can run away and completely shatter the circumstance, or you can stay and kill the joke of your opponent.  This choice makes all the difference!

                                                                    To appreciate something or someone, one does not need vocabulary, not even a language. But to insult, one requires a command over vocabulary, over local lingos, and infinite amount of creative curses which generates curiosity about its recipient, such should be its magnificence and glory. There are no rules to a good insult, It rovers in the spaces of unfathomable universe until it finds someone or something worth it.  In the constant battle of mankind between good and bad, existentialism and nihilism, a good insult is the answer, the purpose to be wronged and defeated, and a motivation.

                                                                        They say, jokes are made in heaven, among the stars. The ardent sun then wakes us to pick the dewdrops of insults and spread them, the vulgarity which then passes from generation to generation, to one life-form into another. It however also reminds us of its mysteries, the perennial law: the duality of emotions everything emits. Like a good loud ‘fart’, being one man’s misery another’s relief. One man tragedy, another’s comedy!