Dec 4, 2006 6
appleton rum
i may be drunk and i can’t really read, but i know that this is good news
good work doug, i <3 u.
Dec 4, 2006 2
one seven hundredths
on the verge of falling asleep, i’ve finally stumbled into an explanation for my inability to relate to other people and the legacy of failure that grows and growwsssssss as a result.
of course it never comes off as failure.
excessive chatter or conversational comedy is a social skill.
when a shrug or grin or ear-to-ear smile would more than suffice, an entire dramatic performance is paraded replete with a grab-bag of hysterical laughter, feigned concern, or wild gesticulations beckoning the use of a menagerie of muscles that would otherwise have remained dormant while forcing tears at your own mother’s funeral.
it’s a kind of licensed dishonesty, but who doesn’t need to do it?
when it comes to masking, i’m formulaic and uni-dimensional. my exaggerated facade is linear; the more i try to hide, the funnier i seem to get. my humour is a manifestation of the effort it takes for me to keep things unsaid.
being a comedian has the double effect of keeping my feelings concealed, while simultaneously allowing me to benefit from the honest joy i see in others. and knowing how to do it so well, spotting it gets to be pretty easy.
but these are things i already knew. the part of it all i only now realized was that managing the dishonesty in others is so much easier when i’m actively siphoning laughter with my humour. i unintentionally fuel the cycle.
it’s obvious. in situations where comedy is entirely inappropriate i’m a land-locked ship; that guy forcibly trying to make jokes at the scene of a murder-suicide.
i wonder though, what things would be like if, on occassion, i just burped out words which, in an awkward explosion of relief, made things just a little more interesting.
