Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Let's have a liberating laughter

There has been "Journalist's Day" in ... in ... yes! Exactly! In Iran.
Big parties, of course, in Tehran, Isfahan and Ghom.

Thus, before going on, please celebrate reading more details here.

Back? Fine!

Yes, neither you nor Tetrapilotomos need to tell me that sarcasm has seldom helped solving a problem. For some people, though, irony and sarcasm (not cynism!!) is the shelter to which they flee when feeling close to getting overwhelmed by their sadness, their wrath, their helplessness. Irony, sarcasm for distracting purposes.

Bearing ironic or sarcastical thoughts in the maternity room of one's brain could, by the way, be a nice and most entertaining alternative (that moreover mostly would not produce long-term consquences) whenever feeling there is nothing else to do.

And now back to "Journalist's Day" in Iran.
The scissors in one's head may cut the road on which thoughts are travelling from the brain into the feather. But it would not be able to reach the realm of thinking. The thoughts remain free.

That is why - with a cheerful thanks to Colin at Adelaide's Green Porridge Cafe - I dedicate the following joke first of all to all journalists in Iran, but also to anybody living elsewhere and feeling/being persecuted, harrassed and incarcerated.

Now might a joke about a President absolutely down under be not half as lovely when being told let's say in North Korea, Saudi Arabia, Libya, Syria, England, France, Germany, China, Russia or the U.S. of A., only to give some examples.
But look above. Thoughts are free! Just choose your favourite protagonist, and enjoy at least some seconds of liberating laughter.

Prime Minister John Howard was visiting a primary school and he visited one of the classes. They were in the middle of a discussion related to words and their meanings.

The teacher asked the Prime Minister if he would like to lead the discussion on the word "tragedy". So the illustrious leader asked the class for an example of a "tragedy".

One little boy stood up and offered: "If my best friend, who lives on a farm, is playing in the field and a tractor runs over him and kills him, that would be a 'tragedy'".

No," said Howard, "that would be an accident".

A little girl raised her hand: "If a school bus carrying fifty children drove over a cliff, killing everyone inside, that would be a tragedy."

"I'm afraid not," explained the Prime Minister "That's what we would call a great loss."

The room went silent. No other children volunteered.

John searched the room. "Isn't there someone here who can give me an example of tragedy?"

Finally, at the back of the room, a small boy raised his hand...In a quiet voice he said: "If the aeroplane carrying you and Mrs Howard was struck by a "friendly fire" missile and blown to smithereens, that would be a tragedy.

Fantastic!" exclaimed John Howard. "That's right. And can you tell me why that would be a tragedy?"

Well," says the boy "It has to be a tragedy, because it certainly wouldn't be a great loss and it probably wouldn't be a bloody accident either.


  1. Hm, Hans, do you know what my closest friend felt like to call me, by using a German idiom?
    "A sentimental soft-egg you are!" he said, and: "Why not showing the world your cojones?!"

    Hm, go on talking,
    I said, quoting Robert Frost,
    but don't take my style away.
    It's my face.
    May be no good,
    but anyway, my face.

  2. That particular joke resonates with Australians at the moment. Poor Johnny, he is history.