Vis Comica

[Sr.Aquiles]

Laugh is the virtuous recognition of distortion, contradiction and ugliness – it reveals the pathetic and ridicule of our twisted reality.

There is wisdom in a smile.  Although, only a fool can really laugh. I am a fool. I laugh at everything, even when i do not laugh.

What I see others doing is not laugh: there is malice and selfishness in it. They are cowards, who stand behind their disguises, scorning others.

There are different ways to smile. Your choice will reveal your own nature.

There are a lot of fools in this planet, but how many know how to smile?

[crow]

Another brilliant thread.
There is, in fact, only one kind of smile. The kind you almost never see.
Among the plethora of grimaces, rictuses, expressions intended to convey something that isn't there, defensive posturing, and deliberate distractions.
Humour fills the uncluttered soul. So full, that it spills out, all over the place.

[Transilvania]

Really a fantastic post here.

Though, this has prodded me to ask of myself a variety of questions.

Do things like 'satire' develop when a society has lost it's naivete? Is satire just sourpuss attitude (Take Juvenal for example)?

At any rate.

Though I suppose that's why one sees children laughing the most. Not only are they the most foolish- they are often said to be the most 'radiantly' intelligent of all.

[crow]

Healthy children, when very young, have not yet been 'taught' to destroy the wit they have, and replace it with plodding, mechanical intellect.

[Sr.Aquiles]

Humour emanates from the wisdom and experience. When there is a lack of understanding, there is no humour.

The presence of humour – the one of noble kind – is the expression of conciousness. Humour is the companion of healthy individuals, societies and civilizations at large.

When compared to the kind of humour we have in nowadays, what we see is a total rupture with the ancient one. The modern laugh is full of hubris, ignorance and nonsense. It is simply retarded.

The decadence of modern society produces a defective humour. When a society loses the power to see its own faults, it loses the ability to laugh with spirit. Modern man does not know how to do it.

However, as we all know, It is the simplicity of a smile that marks the frontier between a genuine human being and the modern dummy.

[crow]

Strangely, I make a point of rarely smiling when I am around local people.
This is because so many of them wear a fixed not-smile, permanently pasted to their faces, while they go around gossiping, left-wing-activating, and backstabbing each other.
Their not-smiles have nothing at all to do with humour, but more to do with displaying their imaginary superiority and faux-spirituality to each other.
I don't really know why they do it, but they do it all the time. It has nothing to do with humour or fun.

When at home with my wife, however, we laugh and joke all the time. Like two kids in a sandpit.
It's like being in another world.

[Sr.Aquiles]

Strangely, I make a point of rarely smiling when I am around local people.
This is because so many of them wear a fixed not-smile, permanently pasted to their faces, while they go around gossiping, left-wing-activating, and backstabbing each other.
Their not-smiles have nothing at all to do with humour, but more to do with displaying their imaginary superiority and faux-spirituality to each other.
I don't really know why they do it, but they do it all the time. It has nothing to do with humour or fun.

People are always suspicious of crows; They view them as ill omened. Unfortunately, that is not the case, although it would be fascinating to see some plague going on the hipster hotel. Squawk!

The image depicted by you, is too familiar. The gossip, backstabbing, and all the other conspirations, were the fundamental motivator of my abandonment of social  works. But then, I learned how to laugh, and now made my return to the heart of the leftists lair: the city.

Let's see what is going to be around here. Mass murder is a probability.

When at home with my wife, however, we laugh and joke all the time. Like two kids in a sandpit.
It's like being in another world.

The Crows can be fools too. The joy of a fulfilled life is too good to not be shared with a laugh.

It’s another world, indeed.

[crow]

This really is a great thread. It makes me smile just by being here
How happy to dispose of crazy intellect, and just live.

[Tree]

Sr.Aquiles, you have managed to distill some of the magic of life into words. Bravo!

There is wisdom in a smile.  Although, only a fool can really laugh. I am a fool. I laugh at everything, even when i do not laugh.

You describe me very well here.

I often have hysterical bouts of laughter about things that no one else finds particularly funny. I will laugh uncontrollably for five minutes or so (not like a psychopath, don't get the wrong idea), and usually some quality of my laughter makes everyone else laugh too. My laughter spreads like wildfire. I have found that this is a good quality of mine.

Though I do wonder, am I strange for laughing so much, or are they strange for not seeing the humor?

The mascot of this thread ought to be the fool from King Lear, I think...I always felt a strong affinity for his character.

[crow]

I laugh hysterically, sometimes. I just can't stop.
I entered a cafe, some years ago, in the gulf islands, where I live, and asked the waitress if she had any cake.
"We have some space cake", she said.
I looked at her, wondering what space cake was. Maybe the kind of cake astronauts take into space with them. Dehydrated, perhaps, or in a tube. Maybe it had those tiny coloured candy bits all over it...
"What's a space cake?"
She looked at me, wondering what I was.
"It's got spaces in it", she said.
I started to giggle a bit. I tried to imagine a cake with spaces in it. What? Like a swiss cheese?
No matter how hard I tried, I was unable to picture it. I had to try some, if only to find out.
"I'll have a slice of that, then, and some coffee, please".
She waddled off, while I amused myself with imagining what it might turn out to be.
She returned with an extraordinarily ordinary-looking slice of cake. No coloured bits. No holes.
I took a bite.
Then the laughing started, in earnest.
She seemed quite upset as I shook and guffawed, almost falling off my chair.
I tried to explain it to her, but was laughing too much to do so.

She was from Newfoundland, it turned out.
Her accent had sounded like she was saying 'space cake', when in fact, she had been saying:
Spice cake.