COMICS TRIP

What's the definition of a comic?

(Entry 1 of 2) 1: of, relating to, or marked by comedy a comic actor. 2: causing laughter or amusement: funny a comic monologue. 3: of or relating to comic strips in the newspaper's comic section. Apr 9, 2022

According to the dictionary and encyclopedia, we should laugh... or want to laugh at the spoken words from a comic or comedian. After the ACADEMY AWARDS of 2022, we might want to check our ideals on the issue. Some laughed at the staged slap as the funny end of the orator's knock-down humor. "Any fool should know"... was heard in a resounding echo of the disbelief that someone could step so low as to blaspheme a comrade's family crisis, not only in a room of affiliates but on worldwide television. I defended his id briefly. Black guys in a moment of envy turn to the "signifying monkey game." It's "catcalling." It's like pulling down the panties of another in a room full of viewers. Proper response? Pull your panties up and run.... right? Better that he vents his envy of a co-worker's wages, looks, or status on his own inept talents than to cut another's family crisis... cutting or punching below the belt. (ba bip boom)

How about the old-style comedy of preference where self-flagellation is made to be the intense focus... "I was so dizzy at the job the other day, they sent me home for being drunk. I was one dizzy broad! ...but those are the best, right? ...I was on a Veterans Affairs pill-induced high. I got a licensed high." ...boy, I was one really... really... really dizzy broad! and by military order!

"The test results came back positive and passing. The testator touched me and a few others coming out of the academy examining room on the back and with a smile, asked what the name of our business would be. Most grappled and attached their own name as the nameplate, I gave them LICENSED TO KILL. We tested for Certification as a Licensed Exterminator."

Try joking on definitions... say of "testatrix" we all know that's the professional exam a magician has to pass to get a license. Or "Jesuit doctor" ... who's he operating on? or maybe a name plucked from any geographical site on a map... HELL, that's in Michigan and a river runs through it. There is a store there, a post office, a mayor, and well, a mayor's daughter. So... is she the daughter of "the devil"? or what?

ANYONE WONDERING where this unethical line of "humor" stems from should know that I base my foundation of knowledge on the talents of a Mrs. Sinclair who had me depict my "self" in living color as a homework assignment. In the box of colors issued (it was one of the initial tool boxes given to first graders) that day in the classroom, there was a choice of red... green... brown... orange... purple... yellow, and black. I picked up the brown crayon after looking around the room at classmates noticing the variation of colors and shades around the outer layer of their presence. The outlines were mostly brown. I drew my outline in brown. The hollow of a head with necessary features... eyes, nose, mouth, and ears were placed on the construction paper given to me that I should "build myself" upon. I drew my dress in light shades of green with diagonal lines for the sections of darker green. Then looked at my arms. I looked at my wrists and the palms of my hands. Other children were beginning to take their work to the front of the room. I picked up the color seen on my wrist and put skin on my little image... the replication of me. After adding the patent leather black shoes and frilly laced socks, I took my paper to the front of the room and dropped it on the teacher's desk. She was immediately upset at what she saw. Holding the artwork high over her head for the other students to see, she commented saying, "This one can not tell colors yet!" The other students laughed. When the teacher turned back around to me to insist I draw it over, I showed her my wrists. I showed her my palms and lower arms. She gasped and drew an "A" on top of my sheet.

My veins and the other easily viewed tissues beneath the surface of my skin showed green. I had put on the brown of my eyes and the black of my shoes. faint yellow on my lace frilled socks and the green of my dress that matched my cousin's blue one... purchased earlier that week. My hair was brownish-black... crayon-drawn on and scratched off to look more like my own. My skin, at first glance, showed a funny color... light, all my older cousins called "bird shit yellow." Where there would have been a tinge of red... for blood in veins, mine showed green or greenish tint. Some call it olive. The blue lines running underneath my skin made a tinge the teacher had not expected until she made a further inspection of me... on close up.

I got an A+ for visualization of an art subject. The other kid's artworks were black, brown, and hollow-faced. Race jokes were basic humor back in the day when monkeys came through town with a grind on, and a watermelon man was the first call... I didn't know what they were talking about on 73rd Street in Chicago. They were hollering "the mosp mosp." Back when Black panthers running through the black neighborhood near Drexel was not an animal... but we should run... run like it would eat you alive. Panthers were a dangerous thing to suburban kids out of district... that's a joke. What black kid is out of the district in a ghetto... right.

SOMETIMES CANCER CAN BE JOKED ON... but you get a better laugh if it's your own self taking the brunt of that joke. (Music symbols and drums sound prompt as heard on Johnny Carson, Joey Bishop, Dean Martin, Jerry Louis, Carol Burnett, Redd Foxx, Flip Wilson, and Richard Pryor)

(that's a wrap)