Betsy Devine: Funny ha-ha and/or funny peculiar

I’m feeling foolish tonight–and I’ve got company, all over the Web. From my nerd joke collection, here are a few favorite bloopers:

• Questions people ask at Banff Park (Bert Christensen’s Truth & Humour Collection)
  
  “So it’s eight kilometers away… is that in miles?”
  “How do the Elk know they’re supposed to cross at the “Elk Crossing” signs?”
  “I saw an animal on the way to Banff today – could you tell me what it was?”

• Questions people ask at Mesa Verde National Park (Compiled by Alan Silverstein):
  
  “What did they worskip in the kivas — their own made up religion?”
  “Why did they build the ruins so close to the road?”
  “Do you know of any undiscovered ruins?”

• Questions people ask in Edinburgh, Scotland (Compiled by Alan Silverstein):
  
  “Do you have any photgraphs of the castle under construction?” (The castle dates back to the 10th century AD).
  “Wouldn’t it have been better if they built the castle nearer the stores?”

• Remarks from tourists at dinosaur track sites(Compiled by Glen J. Kuban):
  
  “I know dinosaurs were heavy, but I never dreamed they could punch footprints in solid rock like this!”
  “You know Billy, these dinosaur footprints are hundreds of years old!”

• Responses to the US Forest Service’s request for backpacker comments:
  
  “Trails need to be reconstructed. Please avoid building trails that go uphill.”
  “The places where trails do not exist are not well marked.”
  “A small deer came into my camp and stole my bag of pickles. Is there a way I can get reimbursed? Please call.”

So if anyone tells you “There are no foolish questions”–just tell that person to read this foolish page!

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In 1968–what innocent days–when people poked fun at themselves because it was fun–before “deniability” turned irony into a kind of armor–Leonard Nimoy took time off from Mr. Spock-ing to make a music video. If you haven’t seen “The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins,” do your smile muscles a favor and look at this Quicktime version in a funny TV set. (If addiction sets in, you can download your very own .mov version.) Mmmm, Spock and Tolkien–could any baby-boomer ask for more?

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Can politics still be fun? What politics? Nobody can criticize “the President” until our troops are out of danger! (Maybe in 2099?)

Nevertheless, Jon Stewart (Daily Show) found someone who would condemn the Iraq policies of President Bush–and that critical someone (the traitor!) was Texas Governor Bush in his 2000 presidential campaign. You can see a 12.4 M version of the hilarious “Candidate Bush vs. President Bush” foreign policy debate here. (Fortunately for the safety of our nation, Ashcroft has now removed candidate Bush to an undisclosed location, despite some treasonous whining by his lawyers.)

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I identify with the peaceful hobbits in Nimoy’s song: “Now hobbits are peace-loving folks ya know, / They’re never in a hurry and they take things slow… ” I wouldn’t be thinking much about politics if it weren’t for seeing my lovely, peaceful, idealistic country the U.S. of A. turned into an ugly bully on the world stage–not to mention the number of my dear friends now out of work. That’s why I started fussing about who to vote for for President. I am proud to be supporting Howard Dean. Nuff said.

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The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins

In the middle of the earth,
In the land of the Shire,
Lives a brave little Hobbit whom we all admire,
With his long wooden pipe,
And his fuzzy little toes,
He lives in a hobbit hole and everybody knows him,

Bilbo, (Bilbo),
Bilbo Baggins,
He’s only 3 feet tall,
Bilbo, (Bilbo),
Bilbo Baggins,
He’s the bravest little hobbit of them all,

Now hobbits are peace-loving folks ya know,
They’re never in a hurry and they take things slow,
They don’t like to travel away from home,
They just like to eat and be left alone,
But one day Bilbo was asked to go,
On a big adventure to the caves below,
To help some dwarves get back their gold,
That was stolen by a dragon in the days of old,

Bilbo, (Bilbo),
Bilbo Baggins,
He’s only 3 feet tall,
Bilbo, (Bilbo),
Bilbo Baggins,
He’s the bravest little hobbit of them all,

Well he fought with the goblins,
He battled a troll,
He riddled with Golum,
A magic ring he stole,
He was chased by wolves,
Lost in the forest,
Escaped in a barrel from the Elf King’s halls,

Bilbo, (Bilbo),
Bilbo Baggins,
He’s the bravest little hobbit of them all,

Now he’s back in his home in the land of the Shire,
That brave little hobbit whom we all admire,
Just a sitting on a treasure of silver and gold,
A-puffing on his pipe in his hobbit hole,

Bilbo, (Bilbo),
Bilbo Baggins,
He’s only 3 feet tall,
Bilbo, (Bilbo),
Bilbo Baggins,
He’s the bravest little hobbit of them all.

Insults are funny–peculiar and ha-ha. Google “insult jokes” and you get 8,000 results. Google “compliment jokes” and you get zero.

He who laughs last thinks slowest…

In ivory towers, the big insult is stupidity.
We tell “stupid jokes” about deans–the same jokes Dilbert tells about pointy-haired-bosses, often the same our ancestors told about cossacks.

How many deans does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Two. One to assure the faculty everything’s fine, and the other to screw the light bulb into a faucet.

They might have money and power, but boy are they dumb!

In the whuffie-powered world of webloggers, there’s something worse than stupid. I saw a blogger get mad the other day, you know the insult he came up with?

“That’s not interesting.”

They’ll have to write some new “Yo Mama” jokes around that one. Mmmm, that should be interesting…

Modern comics get lots of laughs from shock value. Just imagine, however, how shocking this old nerd joke was, back in its long-ago heyday:

Columbus sailed the ocean blue
In fourteen hundred and ninety-two
Divide the son-of-a-bitch by two
And that’s how many watts are in a horsepower.

I love that joke for delivering not one but two shocks. First, you think it’s a kid’s rhyme you already know. Second, you’re still in the same rhyme but somebody’s swearing. Third, you’re in the workaday world of watts and horsepower-and the rhyme that got you there has disappeared. I’d like to see Eddy Murphy do better than that.

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The opposite of shock value is also funny. For example:

On the anniversary of Queen Victoria’s death, her children would visit the mausoleum at Frogmore. One year, as they knelt piously in prayer, a dove entered the mausoleum and flew about.

“It is dear Mama’s spirit,” they murmured.

“No, I am sure it is not,” contradicted Princess Louise.”

“It must be dear Mama’s spirit,” they persisted.

“No, it isn’t,” said Princess Louise. “Dear Mama’s spirit would never have ruined Beatrice’s hat.”

from Clifton Fadiman and André Bernard, Bartlett’s Book of Anecdotes (New York: Little, Brown, 2000).

Part of the fun comes from figuring out just what she’s talking about. Another thing I love about this story–Princess Louise is thinking scientifically. Even when urged to believe what she wants to believe, she sticks to the evidence. At least, that’s my excuse for sticking her funny story in my book of science jokes.

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And one more example, since good things should come in threes:

“The species of whale known as the black right whale has four kilos of brains and 1,000 kilos of testicles. If it thinks at all, we know what it is thinking about.”

Jon Lien, “Whale Professor” at St. John’s University, Newfoundland, speaking to the Norwegian Telegram Agency (spring 1995).

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Speaking of shocks, imagine my surprise when I learned Dave Winer linked to this post–sending many enthusiasts for Howard Dean my way. I asked Dave–why this page? He said he thought the whale testicles should be “out there.” Okay…

If you’re here to learn more about “Howard Dean for President!”–I’m just a fan, not an expert. I put two links on the right side of this page–both lead to groups where you can really find out more.

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How universal is humor? You decide.

To my great delight, Amazon.com just sent me a famous joke book: Joe Miller’s Jests; or, The Wits Vade-mecum (N.Y.: Dover, 1963; facsimile of the original 1739 edition). If you imagine two-hundred-plus-year-old humor as prudish, check out #5:

“When the Lord of Ormond was young, and came first to Court, he happen’d to stand next my Lady Dorchester, one Evening in the Drawing-Room, who being but little upon the Reserve on most Occasions, let a Fart, upon which he look’d her in the Face and laugh’d. What’s the Matter, my Lord, said she: Oh! I heard it, Madam, reply’d the Duke, you’ll make a fine Courtier indeed, said she, if you mind everything you hear in this Place.”

Joe Miller, like Jay Leno or any jokester, gets you to laugh at his story by using shorthand–recognizable people, places, and things. (For Lord Ormond and Lady Dorchester, think Clinton and Lewinsky.) And Joe, like Jay, uses people-as cliches. Jay knows you’ll recognize and chuckle at yuppies, hippies, and Senators. Joe knows the same about Bishops, fishmongers, and cabin boys on leave from a man o’ war.

One of my favorite Joe Miller jokes (if you didn’t grow up going to Mass every Sunday, will you get it?)–is #82:

“Two Gentlemen disputing about Religion, in Button’s Coffee-House, said one [of] them, I wonder, Sir, you should talk of Religion, when I’ll hold you five Guineas you can’t say the Lord’s Prayer, done, said the other, and Sir Richard Steele shall hold Stakes. The Money being deposited, the Gentleman began with, I believe in God and so went cleverly thro’ the Creed; well, said the other, I own I have lost: I did not think he could have done it.”

Some witty people claim that humor is universal and all good jokes are old jokes. Oh yeah? May I just point out Joe Miller has not one light bulb joke.

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The fool, the hero, the straight man–if you tell jokes, you need these three guys the way Betsy Ross needed red and white and blue.

In the physicist/bartender joke, the bartender plays straight man–his naive questions move the story along. The straight man piques the listener’s curiosity about stuff the storyteller wants to tell–and distracts the listener from stuff that has to stay hidden until the punch line.

One of my favorite jokes has three slightly-misdirecting straight men, two of whom are women. (Grrrr! No wonder they call English “the Microsoft of languages”!)

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On board a train speeding toward Casablanca, four strangers were sharing one compartment: a Nazi officer, a beautiful maiden, an old peasant woman, and a handsome French patriot.

For mile upon mile they traveled in silence.

Suddenly–the train had entered a tunnel–darkness fell. And the silence was broken by the sound of a kiss, quite loud, followed by the sound, even louder, of a slap! As the train roared out of the tunnel, the Nazi had a rueful expression and one cheek much redder than the other. Still no one spoke. But what were they thinking?

The old woman was thinking, “That filthy German–she gave him what he deserved.”

The German was thinking, “How unfair! That Frenchman steals a kiss, and I’m the one she slaps!”

The maiden was thinking, “Strange–why did the German kiss that old woman?”

The French patriot was thinking, “Oh, what a clever patriot I am! The darkness falls–I kiss my hand–I slap a Nazi–and no one is the wiser!”

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This joke also has a hero–the Frenchman–and a fool–the Nazi. “Fool jokes”–just a couple of memes ago, we were calling them “blonde jokes”–go back to the primitive humor of laughing at people who pratfall or poop in their pants. “Hero jokes” have a winner as well as a loser–and the winner is usually a stand-in for you.

In real life, each of us plays both fool and hero. But real life doesn’t have enough George-Burns/Dean-Martin/Marge-Simpson types to beg us to tell them stuff we want to tell them.

With this intro, imagine old Dino is here, looking handsomely looped, eager to ask me how it went last night:

Dino: (tunefully) So tell me about this Dino meeting last night.
Betsy: Not a Dino meeting, it was a Howard Dean meeting.
Dino: A meeting in a bar–so how bad a time could anybody have there?
Betsy: I had a good time–about the best time I ever had with a hundred-plus people I never met before. Vote for Dean!
Dino: Well, that’s amore. Now, say good night, Gracie.
Betsy: Hey, wrong straight man! But, you’re right, that’s enough. Good night, Gracie.

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A man walks into a bar, takes a seat on the next-to-last stool, turns to the empty stool right next to him, and says “Miss, can I buy you a drink?” For the rest of the evening, he chats and flirts with a non-existent woman sitting beside him. The next night, same story. And the next night, same story again. Finally the bartender comes over and asks, “Why do you keep talking to that empty stool, night after night after night?”

The man replies, “I am a physicist. I’m relying on a quantum mechanical possibility that a beautiful woman may tunnel in from some extra dimension and materialize on that stool. If that happens–well, I’ll have the inside track with her.”

“That’s ridiculous,” says the bartender. “Plenty of women come to this bar every night. You’re presentable and very articulate–if you tried to chat up one of the women here, she might be interested.”

The physicist laughs. “Yeah, right–how likely is that?”

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There are two ways to read the last line of this joke. One reading makes the physicist arrogant–“Oh, bartender, what do you know of quantum mechanics?” The other makes the physicist abashed–“I’m such a nerd, no woman would talk with me.” I find the first reading funnier. The banana peel on the sidewalk could trip anyone–but it’s more fun when Mr. Snob takes a spill.

In the tiny world I live in (physics academia), jokes about people who are stupid are “dean jokes”, and jokes about people who are arrogant are “theoretical physics jokes.” For example:

The theoretical physicist’s prayer: “Dear God, make me less arrogant–and may I remind you that the OED defines ‘arrogant’ as follows….

I’m thinking about my own arrogance yesterday in claiming a right to tell “meta-offensive” jokes. That is, I don’t like jokes that hurt people’s feelings, but I do claim a right to stand up against any group’s loud self-importance. Today, I want to step back from yesterday’s claim.

First, I know I have my own prejudice. If left-wing Democrats say, “Hey, that’s not funny!”–chances are, I too just plain don’t get the joke. If right-wing Republicans don’t like a joke–chances are, I still could think it’s very funny.

Second, I admit the line between “hurting feelings” and “challenging power” is artificial. If I tell a joke that implies group xxx can’t hurt me, how can that not insult people who have a strong allegiance to xxx?

In conclusion, I don’t like jokes whose point is that group xxx is dishonest or sub-human. I do claim a right to tell jokes that mention group xxx as if it had a real share of human fallibility. And I do admit, in all this, to my very own share of human fallibility.

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Betsy’s quote of the day: “Without good humour, learning and bravery can only confer that superiority which swells the heart of the lion in the desert, where he roars without reply, and ravages without resistance.” (Samuel Johnson, 1709-1784)

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In response to my “5 important things, 4 men” joke, I got some insightful email from Dave Winer. Dave agrees there’s no easy inverse for women’s jokes about men. Jokes insulting men are allowed, he points out, giving this example

Q: What’s the diff betw a man and a cucumber?

A: A man can take out the garbage.

Dave asks, “So what’s the equiv joke about women?”

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Hi Dave– I think you’re right that people are more wary about woman-bashing than about man-bashing. But there are plenty of woman-bashing jokes. If you google “better than a woman”–3,700 plus hits–you can find pages of “Why is xxx better than a woman?” jokes, written by horny teenage guys showing off for each other and hoping to sound like emperors of sexy.

Most group-vs.-group jokes (women vs men, MIT vs Harvard, Irish vs WASP, etc.) have punchlines that flatter “Group A” and make fun of “Group B.” Liberals are more comfortable hearing jokes that flatter the underdog group. Many people feel hurt by jokes that make fun of their own group, and some get angry.

Some 20-year-old research claims that men prefer jokes about sex to any other kind–while women prefer jokes about sex only when angry. I wonder if the researcher was using “jokes about sex” to mean jokes like the cucumber one… whose “message” is that the teller can pick a man as she would a cucumber, and give him servile jobs when the sex is done. Yeah, right.

Betsy

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There are real “guys’ jokes” out there that make me laugh. I got in trouble in my first book for including that joke (toned down but still funny) about the polar bear and the bottle of whiskey.

Here’s another “guys’ joke” I like:

A man boards an airplane and takes his seat. As he settles in, he glances up and sees the most beautiful woman boarding the plane. He soon realizes that she is headed straight toward his seat. A wave of nervous anticipation sweeps over him. Lo and behold, she takes the seat right beside his. Anxious to strike up a conversation, he blurts out, “So where are you flying to today?” She turns and smiles and says, “I’m giving a talk to the Sexual Freedom League.”

Whoa! He swallows hard–here’s the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen, sitting right next to him, and she’s talking about sex! Struggling to maintain his outward cool, he calmly asks, “And what’s your talk about?” She looks into his eyes, and says, “I plan to debunk some of the popular myths about sexuality.” “Really,” he says, swallowing hard, again. “And what myths are those?”

She explains: “Well, one popular myth is that African American men are the most well-endowed. In my experience, the Native American is the most likely to possess this trait. Another popular myth is that Frenchmen are the best lovers. I have found, instead that men of Jewish descent make the very best lovers, on average.” “Very interesting,” the man responds. Suddenly, the woman looks embarrassed and starts to blush. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I feel awkward discussing this with you–why, I don’t even know your name.”

The man extends his hand and replies, “It’s Tonto. Tonto Goldstein.”

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Why do I call this a guys’ joke? The punchline celebrates a guy who is about to have sex. Hey, I feel as if I’m on his team–because he is clearly a tongue-tied nerd (like me), and therefore an underdog. Besides, the woman involved is about to have sex (if she wants to) with a smart guy who thinks she’s really gorgeous. How bad can that be?

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Joke 9,099 from the Internet

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THE COLLEGE THEME PAPER: HE VS. SHE

An English professor instructed the freshmen as follows:

Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth. Remember to reread what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking, and anything you wish to say must be written on the paper. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.
The following was actually turned in by Rebecca (last name deleted), and Jim (last name deleted).
———————————————————-
STORY (first paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn’t decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.
————————————————– —-
(Second paragraph by Jim)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. “A.S. Harris to Geostation 17”, he said into his transgalactic communicator, “polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far…” But before he could sign off, a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship’s cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.
————————————————– ——–

(Rebecca)
He bumped his head and died almost immediately but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. “Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel,” Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed hurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. “Why must one lose one’s innocence to become a woman?” she pondered wistfully.
————————————————– ——-
(Jim)
Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu’udrian mother ship launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu’udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid, Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table. “We
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(Rebecca)
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.
————————————————– ——–
(Jim)
Yeah? Well, you’re a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. “Oh shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of stupid tea??? Oh no, I’m such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels.”
———————————————————-
(Rebecca)
Ass.
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(Jim)
Bitch.
**********************************************

(Teacher)
A+ I really liked this one.

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Yeah, like the professor, I really liked this one. Some jokes, and some stereotypes, are meant to be hurtful–that’s not the case here. (Though you might object to the stereotyped professor…) Stereotypes are what make this joke work. That’s because human beings laugh together to celebrate a shared sense of recognition. I really like the idea of bigger and more inclusive groups of people relaxing enough to be able to laugh together.

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Five Secrets to a Great Relationship
1. It is important to find a man who works around the house, occasionally cooks and cleans and who has a job.
2. It is important to find a man who makes you laugh.
3. It is important to find a man who is dependable and doesn’t lie.
4. It is important to find a man who’s good in bed and who loves to have sex with you.
5. It is important that these four men never meet.

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This joke about sexual politics makes women laugh, and makes men smile politely. Would it work with opposite sign if I change the genders?

1. It is important to find a woman who works around the house, occasionally cooks and cleans and who has a job.
2. It is important to find a woman who makes you laugh.
3. It is important to find a woman who is dependable and doesn’t lie.
4. It is important to find a woman who’s good in bed and who loves to have sex with you.
5. It is important that these four women never meet.

This gendering of the joke just makes us puzzled. The original is funny because it invites us to laugh at gripes women often share about single men. The revision leaves us puzzled–who’s this about? To make the re-gendered joke funny, you have to fill it with men’s gripes about single women. Er–I don’t want to go there.

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I’m working a book of science humor (my second), and I think a lot about re-gendering jokes. Good old science jokes reflect a bad old science world, where women are secretaries, angry wives, or unattainable objects of hopeless lust. I want my book to reflect the new science reality–about half the undergrads at MIT are now women–so I need to find ways to make the world of science look less like a boys-only clubhouse, while still keeping funny jokes funny.

Sometimes it’s easy, sometimes it’s hard, and sometimes, well–do you know the joke about 3 people sharing a row of seats on an airplane? There’s a surgeon, a malpractice lawyer, and an HMO executive. The surgeon, who has the aisle seat, volunteers to get cokes for the two others. Instead of reciprocating that kindness, they spit in the surgeon’s shoes when he (note the he) takes them off to sleep. Yes, I thought about re-gendering the surgeon–but it doesn’t work with the punchline. “The surgeon puts on his shoes and realizes what happened. He looks at the other two and says, ‘How long must this enmity go on? It’s wrong, I tell you, wrong–this spitting in shoes–this urinating in cokes.”

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