Comic

Comic: (n) a comedian, especially a professional one

There is no error in comedy.

It is always appropriate.

It is always needed.

And the more serious we think matters are, the greater the requirement is to sprinkle the wit of a comic. Otherwise, we start believing that we are inter-related
with the Divine.

There is “The Divine Comedy”–and that would be the realization that as mere mortals, the best we can do is keep good cheer about what certainly can be a bumpy ride on this roller coaster of life.

The first person to crack a joke is often the blessed soul who exposes light at the end of the tunnel.

The first individual to discover a comic twist receives all the hugs when the rescue is complete.

We need more comics.

We need more people who realize that life on Earth cannot be that important–when we’ve been put in charge of it.

 

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Comedy

Comedy: (n) entertainment intended to make an audience laugh

The least humorous thing that can be done is to have a discussion about comedy.

So since I find myself writing an essay on the subject, you can count on two things: it will be brief, and as non-discussive as possible.

Comedy is what sane people do to try to change things they know will probably not transform, but still need to be addressed. In that way, it can sometimes be
heavy-handed. (How appropriate to refer to it as a Comedy Club.)

To me, comedy that benefits the human soul, like a medicine for our emotions, always has three ingredients:

  1. Self-deprecation. (You have to make fun of yourself.)
  2. Commonality. (It is all part of what the tribe does.)
  3. Some hope (leaving the hearer aware of the difficulty, but ready to approach the situation.)

When comedy provides these three angels to our journey, it may be the closest thing to defining God.

 

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Clown

Clown: (n) a comic entertainer

There are actually three types of clowns, offering varying degrees of danger.

Yes–clowns are dangerous. They forewarn of outrageous comedy but soon become common, needing to push the envelope, opening the
door to all sorts of excesses.

Clown 1: Often referred to as the “class clown,” although he or she can be quite classless.

This is a person who feels it is their job to bring a giggle, even if a sigh or tears is required. He or she is quite angry if you suggest that the insertion of levity is poorly timed. And God forbid that you would ever try to take away their First Amendment right to be funny. After all, what gives us the authority to determine what is comical as opposed to offensive? (Wait! Isn’t that what being mature is all about?)

Clown 2: The Classic Clown, wearing a red nose and floppy shoes, to warn those around him or her of a calamity of errors, which is supposed to be interpreted through the slapstick antics, as side-splitting.

Physical comedy is an instinct to laugh at another human’s pain. When stated that way, people wrinkle their brow and suggest that you’re an old fuddy-duddy.

Clowns have to work too hard to get the job done. This would be similar to a fire-fighter attending a backyard barbecue just in case a three-alarm blaze might break out.  And finally…

Clown 3: These are the people in government, religion and business who have discovered they have gotten away with some egregious action, and nobody has stopped them, so they continue their path of errancy, adding on boxes of insult to the shipment of injury.

“Since I got by with THAT, and nobody challenged me, I wonder if I can do THIS.”

These clowns are particularly annoying because they don’t sit in a classroom, nor do they wear fright wigs. (Well, at least most of them don’t.) What they do is fit in–while not fitting in at all.

They take a code of ethics and turn it into a paper airplane, which they toss through the air to prove how free-wheeling they truly are.

They question values which have proven to be gold, and pretend they are nothing but yellow bricks.

As you can see, all three clown roles seem to have more drawbacks than positive contributions. Yet we continue to allow them to exist under the canopy, “we all need to laugh.”

Actually, we all need good cheer, which means most of the time, if we’re going to mature, we should be laughing at ourselves, not at the pratfalls of others or the decimation of common sense.

 

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Climax

Climax: (n) the most intense, exciting, or important point of something; a culmination or apex.

Having directed a play or two, I finally had to resort to using the word “denouement.”

When referring to the culmination of the final scene–when all the factors come to completion–I found that it was impossible to refer to this
as the “climax.” Every time I did, my actors smirked and their eyes glassed over in glee.

I probably was doing the same thing without knowing it.

There is only one climax. It has never, nor will it ever be exceeded.

It contains great pathos and comedy, all within the same twelve seconds. Its brevity taunts us with the fragility of life and its intensity encourages us to continue on even though we are fragile.

Perhaps it should make us giggle. Yes, the word “climax” might cause us to stare off in the distance, remembering a particularly favorable one.

It is no longer suitable to refer to the closing portion of a play. Get over it, grow up and start getting used to the word “denouemont.”

I know it’s pretentious. I know there will be those who are aware that it’s being used so that “climax” will not be uttered, which might make them grin even more.

But sexual pleasure is such an intricate part of our lives, I do not think we’re greedy by setting aside one word exclusively to define its glory.

 

 

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Boor

Boor: (n) an unrefined, ill-mannered person.

Personal revelations are risky.Dictionary B

You may think you’re being transparent or even clever–but others might find you to be a boor.

In other words, distasteful.

But at the root of all comedy–which is really the best doorway to mutual human understanding–is a certain amount of surprising revelation.

Yet there is a reason we disdain bathroom humor, even though we all take a crap.

So what can we share without people squinting and expressing their disapproval over our candor?

Tricky business, huh?

For instance, I could tell you that I enjoy farting. It is very true. But there is a certain amount of my readership that would assert that such a confession is classless. They would feel superior to me. Even if I explained that I try to do most of my farting under the covers, and not welcome others to visit, or that the relief it gives to my tummy has an almost supernatural-salvation sensation, I would still be in danger of being cast into the role of the boor, who must be segregated from the decent folk.

So to keep from being an outcast, I would never, ever admit to you that I relish farting.

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Bode

Bode: (v) to be an omen of a particular outcome.

Dictionary B

If you talk long enough about farts, you’ll actually start smelling them.

Pardon my crude observation. I wanted to get your attention.

After all, in the United States, it is the way we get people’s heads to turn in our direction.

We shock, alarm, prophesy doom, threaten, warn and curse.

For after all, it is difficult to gather an audience around the idea of happiness. Matter of fact, sometimes I think we despise joy because it does not afford us enough opportunity to complain.

In this political season of furor, it seems that the only way to gain a second look is to express how things do not bode well.

I often wonder why–since our country is so screwed up, so perverted, so destitute and so absolutely bedraggled–individuals would want to become its presiding officer.

Could it be they are lying?

Is there the possibility of exaggeration?

Maybe we’re just geared toward a desire to see the world destroyed so we don’t have to deal with it anymore.

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Bod

Bod: (n) a body or physique.

Dictionary BMethinks I protest too little.

Yes, all my life I have joked about my appearance to the amusement of audiences, never really feeling diminished by being unable to be part of the chosen few who are considered to have “a good bod.”

Alphabetically, the front my body resembles the letter O, and sideways, a B. (That in itself, you see, is a bit of comedy at my own expense.)

I’ve been told by those who consider themselves to be psychologically astute, that such self deprecation can be harmful and disguises a hidden pain.

But … not really.

If there were no mirrors in the world and I was speculating on my appearance, then perhaps a case could be made that I needed to have greater generosity of spirit toward my own visage. But since I know what I look like and I realize that it falls outside the parameters listed for “leading man” or “stud,” there seems to be a healthy need to be realistic and use what I have to the best of my ability, without feeling that I need to place it in a better frame.

Yes, my picture is somewhat frameless.

But considering that, I’ve been blessed by quite a few women, who decided to look beyond my faults and see my need. Or my benefit.

So methinks I protest just enough.

And to these ladies aforementioned, I am most grateful that they helped me discover all the pleasures and joys on the romantic menu.

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