A sense of humor is the taoistic contribution to religiousness. All religious people have been sad and serious and sick. You cannot live with them. That's why people simply touch their feet and run away, because they are so boring. Just sitting by their side a little while, you will start feeling bored too. If there is a heaven where these saints and sages and mahatmas have all reached, then I don't want to go there, because that will be the saddest place in the whole existence. And everybody will be trying to be sadder than the other. A sense of humor is something especially human. Buffalos don't laugh, they are all saints. Donkeys don't joke, they are all mahatmas. In their past lives they have been saints and mahatmas. That's why they have attained such a great status. These are the people who will go to heaven. If after death you are asked where you want to go, please remember to say, "Wherever you want to take me, take -- but I don't want to go where saints go!" Even hell will be better. You will find superior, finer, more juicy people.
Now the joke. It is about three journalists. All three were retired: one was eighty, another was eighty-five, and the third was ninety. It was their usual habit to go for an evening walk, sit in a public park and discuss the golden old days. One day it happened that the first journalist, who was eighty, said,"I feel so ashamed, it hurts. It is like a wound." The other two said, "What happened? Who has hurt you?" He said, "Nobody has hurt me. Just I was caught red-handed." They both said, "You are making a mystery of it. Simply tell us the whole thing! What happened?" He said, "I was caught red-handed by my mother." They said, "At what?" He said, "Now, how to say it? I was peeping through the keyhole when a beautiful woman was taking a bath and my mother caught me. I feel ashamed." The two other guys laughed. One said, "Son, don't get disturbed, it happens to everybody. In childhood everybody looks into keyholes, into bathrooms, and what else to do? Keyholes are made for that. Beautiful ladies are made for that. Don't feel ashamed -- we have all been caught but that doesn't mean that...." The man said, "You don't understand at all. You go on saying to me, "Don't feel ashamed, don't feel ashamed." It is not a question of childhood! It happened today!" Then there was silence. This was too much, if it happened today. The second one said, "Yes, we can understand. I will tell you my story which will give you consolation. It is now the third day that I have not made love to my wife. She is such a bitch that whenever I mention love she immediately turns to the other side and says, 'I have a headache, enough is enough. Now no more.'" The other two laughed now. The third, the oldest, said, "Do you know his love? First tell what you mean by love!" He said, "It is a very simple process. Every night I take her hand in my hand and press it three times. By that time I am fast asleep and snoring. But for three days the bitch won't allow me to make love. I can understand you are feeling ashamed, hurt. I am feeling hurt. My own wife, at this age, is betraying me!" The third man said, "What is happening to me will make you forget all your troubles. This morning when I started making arrangements to make love to my wife she said, 'What are you doing?' "I said, 'What am I doing? I am just doing what should be done. I am trying to make love.' "My wife said, 'You idiot! This is the fourth time in the night! Neither you sleep nor you let me sleep! Love, love, love... there is no limit to it.' "I said, 'My God, that means my memory is going. I had completely forgotten that three times already I have made love.' "And you are talking about your troubles. Think of my trouble, my memory disappearing. At least it is good I can still make the distinction between day and night."So everybody has his problems. To look at a problem with humor is human. Except for human beings no animal can laugh. And your religions have been preventing you from laughter.
Now the joke. It is about three journalists. All three were retired: one was eighty, another was eighty-five, and the third was ninety. It was their usual habit to go for an evening walk, sit in a public park and discuss the golden old days. One day it happened that the first journalist, who was eighty, said,"I feel so ashamed, it hurts. It is like a wound." The other two said, "What happened? Who has hurt you?" He said, "Nobody has hurt me. Just I was caught red-handed." They both said, "You are making a mystery of it. Simply tell us the whole thing! What happened?" He said, "I was caught red-handed by my mother." They said, "At what?" He said, "Now, how to say it? I was peeping through the keyhole when a beautiful woman was taking a bath and my mother caught me. I feel ashamed." The two other guys laughed. One said, "Son, don't get disturbed, it happens to everybody. In childhood everybody looks into keyholes, into bathrooms, and what else to do? Keyholes are made for that. Beautiful ladies are made for that. Don't feel ashamed -- we have all been caught but that doesn't mean that...." The man said, "You don't understand at all. You go on saying to me, "Don't feel ashamed, don't feel ashamed." It is not a question of childhood! It happened today!" Then there was silence. This was too much, if it happened today. The second one said, "Yes, we can understand. I will tell you my story which will give you consolation. It is now the third day that I have not made love to my wife. She is such a bitch that whenever I mention love she immediately turns to the other side and says, 'I have a headache, enough is enough. Now no more.'" The other two laughed now. The third, the oldest, said, "Do you know his love? First tell what you mean by love!" He said, "It is a very simple process. Every night I take her hand in my hand and press it three times. By that time I am fast asleep and snoring. But for three days the bitch won't allow me to make love. I can understand you are feeling ashamed, hurt. I am feeling hurt. My own wife, at this age, is betraying me!" The third man said, "What is happening to me will make you forget all your troubles. This morning when I started making arrangements to make love to my wife she said, 'What are you doing?' "I said, 'What am I doing? I am just doing what should be done. I am trying to make love.' "My wife said, 'You idiot! This is the fourth time in the night! Neither you sleep nor you let me sleep! Love, love, love... there is no limit to it.' "I said, 'My God, that means my memory is going. I had completely forgotten that three times already I have made love.' "And you are talking about your troubles. Think of my trouble, my memory disappearing. At least it is good I can still make the distinction between day and night."So everybody has his problems. To look at a problem with humor is human. Except for human beings no animal can laugh. And your religions have been preventing you from laughter.
2 Kommentare:
Seriousness is a disease. Only sick mind is serious.
Most religions do make you serious. They destroy the possibility of laughter and society gives respectability to seriousness.
Life is a celebration, & yes,Man is the only one who can laugh
And the wrong people constitute the majority, almost ninety-nine point nine percent. The religious, the moralists, the puritans -- they are all serious people. They destroy the very possibility of laughter in you. They destroy the very sense of humor in you. To them, humor is something earthly, mundane.
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