Post#133 PMP

It really amuses me the way in which some people resort to jargon, not occasionally, but continuously. I’m thinking specifically here of ‘lol’. Yes, it’s OK now and again, but you know, I know, most sensible people know that when it appears, as it does in discussions on social networks, that the person in question could not possibly be ‘laughing out loud’ again and again and again. More than that, it often follows a remark, or an observation, that is not in the least bit funny.

Oh, I’m a rebel; I’ve always been a rebel; when the shoal swims one way I invariably swim the other. I’ve stopped using lol altogether, both in social networks and in texting. I would like to invent my own personal jargon. Hmm, what shall I use when I find something particularly funny? Yes, I’ve got it; it shall be Pissing my Panties, or pmp for short. I like that. The trouble is, though, I shall have to be economical in application. Nobody could possibly believe that my bladder has an unlimited capacity.

Post#124 Laughing in Spite of Oneself

Have you ever wondered about the nature of humour, why we find some things funny and others not? Let me put this another way: have you ever found something funny despite yourself, despite all of your ‘purer’ instincts. I know I have. So, here is my confession.

I did a little research on the subject of Josef Goebbels. Whatever one happens to think of this man-and I personally find him rather repulsive-he was a propagandist of genius. Shortly after he became Gauleiter of Berlin in 1928 he founded a paper, Der Angriff, which he used as a vehicle for his views and a tool of his methods. One of his targets was the Jewish police president of Berlin, a man by the name of Dr. Bernhard Weiss, constantly referred to in Der Angriff by the insulting name of ‘Isidor’.

Now, Goebbels was the kind of man best ignored, a man referred to by one of his own party comrades as a ‘poisonous dwarf’. But poor old Doctor Weiss, in many ways a prime example of a humourless Prussian bureaucrat, was forever running like a bull at Goebbels’ rag. He repeatedly took Der Angriff to court, and was repeatedly awarded damages and costs. In the meantime the circulation of the newspaper increased and increased.

On one particular occasion the paper’s cartoonist, who went by the pen name of Moljinr, produced an illustration showing Dr Weiss as a donkey. Once again Der Angriff was taken to court, and once again judgement was passed in favour of Weiss. The day following the headline in the paper was “Judge Agrees: Isidor Does Look like a Donkey.”

Yes, I laughed.

Post#123 A Polished Joke - a Riposte to Lenin in Zurich (Communist Era Humour)

Nice one, Stasi!! Here's a favourite of mine from the borscht old days (or barszcz in this case):

A political organiser in a Polish factory in the 1970's is despairing over the indifference of his comrades to the great matters of state. One day he rails at them, demanding that they demonstrate their ideological preparedness by giving brief biographies of the senior party members. He asks them to speak about various ministers of State, all of whom his comrades apparently have never heard of. When they purport to know nothing of the career of the head of government he bursts out in exasperation: "You numbskulls!! If you spent less time boozing at home and more time improving your minds at political meetings you'd know who the most important people in our country are and why they're important!"

The ensuing, sullen silence is broken by a worker calling out, "If you're so well-informed, tell us about Krzysztof Novak." The organiser is bewildered. He's never heard of any bigwig with that name. He then suspects that he's being mocked; that this is an imaginary person. "There is no significant person of that name!", he retorts.

"Here is his significance", the worker says; "If you spent more time at home and less time at political meetings...you would know that Novak is the guy who is screwing your wife!"

Post#121 Lenin in Zurich

Do you really want me to tell a joke, Retarius? My sense of humour is slightly on the rarefied side! Anyway, just for you.

The setting is the old Soviet Union in the days of Brezhnev. Pravda announces the unveiling of a newly commissioned painting, entitled Lenin in Zurich. The day arrives. All of the most important people are there, the members of the Presidium and the Supreme Soviet; Brezhnev himself is in attendance. The artist and the director of the Academy are on the podium, with the painting between them, covered by a small curtain. The Director rises, welcomes the guests, and announces. “Comrades, I’m delighted to unveil this tribute to the great Lenin.” The curtain is drawn aside. There is an audible gasp from the crowd, followed by a stunned silence. The Director looks at the painting, which shows Trotsky in bed with Krupskaya, Lenin’s wife. He turns to the artist and whispers, “Where the hell is Lenin?” “Oh”, the artist replies, “Lenin’s in Zurich.”

Quickly changing the subject, I noted your lamentation over getting people to read blogs. Does it matter? There are thousands upon thousands of these things. I write for myself; I write for the love of writing; if someone else takes pleasure in what I write, even if it’s only one person, then that is a welcome bonus. True, I have drawn other people’s attention to Ana the Imp, friends and people I know from other networks. I know they have come and taken some benefit, which is pleasing enough in itself. I also know that a piece I wrote last month on Paul Ogarzow, The Forgotten Serial Killer, has been flagged up by a web page in New Zealand as one of only two online articles in the English language on this man, and the better of the two! Can I ask for any greater accolade? :-))