I really couldn't decide whether or not to open this piece with a joke or a definition. The problematic disposition of a writer: open with a joke and they don't take you seriously, open with a dictionary definition and they think you take yourself too seriously. Well, after many (brief) seconds of hard thought, I decided to go with the joke. Only kidding, here's the definition. Hey, that was quite funny.
The dictionary states that : a sense of humour, is the ability to appreciate or express that which is humorous.
Now, I know what you're thinking, starting an article on humour with a dictionary definition is far from humorous, but, in this case, I felt it was necessary to give a solid meaning, and, thus, ultimately expressing a strong sense of clarity and direction towards the rest of the piece. Either that, or it's just my feeble attempt to sound mildly academic.
Humour is a vital part of our lives. Imagine a life with none whatsoever. It would be a dark, serious world with no right place for jokes, quips, mocking or even friendly banter. I have always embraced humour with open arms and believed it to be essential to our well being and overall happiness in life. From something subtle and amusing, which can make us smile, to full-blown belly laughs that leave you rolling around, gasping for air, we find that humour brings us joy, whether it be fired from the tongue of a witty remark or expelled from the deafening visual CRASH blasted from a slapstick scenario.
As the author, I think I may be excused and allowed my right to indulge in expressing what humour means to me in context of this article - so let's try this without quoting the dictionary this time, eh? Humour is all around us; it's within us, just waiting to escape at any given exit. It wants to be released and exposed, and trust me, it always finds a way. I think the highest concentration that we can source these days has to be through the extremely powerful medium of TV. Humour sells, and, as long there are people who will laugh at jokes, there will be people willing to make money and sell them. This article, however, is about my experience with humour, and, if I'm honest, I have recently found that comedy shows bore me after a while. As funny as they are, for whatever period of time my patience endures, I find them frustratingly limiting - the way they relentlessly constrain the horizons of humour. Let me explain. They don't allow room for creative-inventiveness; they are less of a blank canvas, and more of a finished piece. After years of being told TV is bad for you, I can finally see a glimpse of this truth for myself.
One thing I like more than hearing a good joke (making me laugh) is making my owns little gems and sharing them with the world, thus, sharing happiness (making them laugh). To explain my point better, think about what happens when you smile at someone. You'll notice a rather pleasant domino effect: you smile at them, making them happy, they smile back which, in turn, makes you happy! Everyone's a winner.
As far as a hobby goes, finding and hearing jokes is all well and good, but I, perhaps selfishly, have found a greater deal of pleasure and satisfaction from constructing my own jokes, be they sewn together from the delicate threads of social observation, or just simple and plain fun being had with punderful word play. I've been actively doing this for years now – gathering all the pieces in front of me, in any situation that presents itself with potential, to piece together a puzzle, bit by bit, until I have the the bigger picture. The finished piece.
The only trouble you find with constantly churning out jokes is that not everyone is a satisfied customer. In fact, in my case, none of them are satisfied customers, as I'm yet to make any money from them! But that's not where my loyalties lie; I'm just here on this this planet learning all that I can and trying to enjoy myself as much as possible. And if I can help others be happy on my quest for this, clearly attainable joy, I will always be trying my best. Now would be an exceptionally ideal time to use a cliché like we're all in the same boat. But in reality, I think some of us are, but the rest are just on the same page. Either way, there is some sense of unity and that is what essentially brings us together: the common touch.
I don't get annoyed or upset, or even offended, when people tell me my jokes aren't funny. A joke works quite easily: you either find it funny or you don't. Even the world's best comedians can't capture the hearts of every audience. So, when they tell you coldly, "That's not funny", kindly remind them that a joke's success is not based upon the frequency of the laughs, but, rather; the presence of the laughs. And if they're too sour to appreciate or understand the concept, the joke's on them.
After that deceptively serious piece of writing, I though I'd lighten the mood with a joke I came up with earlier today:
No matter how small, I'm sure there's a joke in the fact I'm getting penis enlargement ads sent to my 'junk' mailbox.
