On jokes - essay

When I first started writing this blog it was not my intention for it to be political. If you go back in the archives of morialekafa you will see that there were essays, short stories, even an occasional poem, but no exclusive focus on politics. I guess I was led into political comments because of the outrages of the Bush/Cheney administration which, of course continue and are impossible to ignore. Things are now so bad there seems not much more to say about them.

Tiger Woods Touring in Ireland
On a golf tour in Ireland, Tiger Woods drives his BMW into a filling station in a remote part of the Irish countryside. The attendant obviously knows nothing about golf, greeting the golf star in a typical Irish manner, completely unaware of his identity. "Top of the mornin' to you, sor," says the attendant. Tiger nods a quick 'Hello' and bends forward to pick up the nozzle. As he does so, two tees fall out of his shirt pocket onto the ground. "What are those?" asks the attendant.
"They're called tees," replies Tiger.

"Well, what on the good earth are they for?" asks the attendant.

"They're for resting my balls on when I'm driving," says Tiger.

"Jaysus, sweet Mary and Joseph," the attendant exclaims, "BMW tinks of everything."

I do not consider this to be a very good joke although it is mildly amusing. What I wonder about is where did it come from? I know it was forwarded to me from my wife's computer. She did not make it up. I know it was forwarded to her from friends in England. But I'm sure they didn't make it up. But someone, somewhere did. It does not strike me as a professional job. It's seems to me pretty amateurish. It is similar to thousands of such jokes that we hear repeated daily. Now, if you write a book, short story, song, poem, or such, and it is given a copywrite, you can be paid for it for a very long time. Whoever write Twas the Night Before Christmas, for example, must have made a fortune. Similarly, Rudoph the Red Nosed Reindeer, did, indeed, make a fortune for Gene Autrey. People who make up these kinds of jokes apparently get nothing, ever, no matter how often their material is used. Of course if you write for some comedy show, or make your living as a writer of such material, you do get compensated. But this is a different matter. Think of all the "dirty" jokes that are repeated year after year, the limericks that everyone knows and repeats, and so on. The authors get nothing. Of course some of these jokes and limericks are so vile or obscene the authors probably would not want to take credit for them. Think of a well-known limerick that has Nantucket as its base (I'm sure most of you will recognize this). If the unknown author of this had been paid for every time it has been recited he would obviously be a millionare several times over. What a shame that such creativity cannot be rewarded. Somehow it doesn't seem fair.

Another example:

A man is upset because when he farts the farts say "honda." While this is not a monumental problem it bothers him. He goes to a doctor and explains to him that his farts go honda. The doctor interviews him, looks him over, and says, "I don't know what the problem is."

So he goes to several other doctors and gets the same result. No one seems to know what causes this strange phenomena. Finally, in desperation, he goes to a Chinese doctor. The Chinese doctor asks him to drop his pants and inspects him carefully. Then he says, "abcess."

Abcess? the man asks. Yes, "abcess makes de fart go honda."

Now I remember where I first heard this joke. But I know the person who recited it did not make it up. But someone did, somewhere, for some reason known only to the author.

I am not interested in analysing these particular jokes, or even any jokes, at the moment. I am only interested in where in the world do they come from? Do people just sit around trying to dream them up? Is there some secret society of jokesters that take delight in seeing who can make up the best or the most or the worst jokes? In short, is there something about this that I just don't understand. Do these jokes appear in dreams? Do you have to be "high" on something or other? Do they just come to people during eureka moments? And if you make up such a joke, and tell only one or two other people, how do they spread so rapidly and quickly become part of our collective knowledge?

Obviously part of the problem is that this is primarily an oral tradition. It would be impossible to keep track to how many people recited the same joke and so on. But sometimes some of these jokes actually do appear in print. Does anyone claim authorship? Do they get royalties? I doubt it. How about grafiti? If I write a classic bit of grafiti on a bathroom wall, even if I sign my name to it, would I get any recognition? Of course not. Such genius is just not rewarded. But think of the satisfaction you might get from realizing that your limerick or other contribution to this strange outlaw version of literature has been repeated several millions of times. Perhaps frustration might be a better word than satisfaction. Anyway, whoever it is who makes this stuff up, and wherever you are, and whatever your circumstances, and how unappreciated you feel, rest assured that morialekafa appreciates your efforts.