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greenspun.com : LUSENET : The Toilet Paper Chonicles: Gallows Humor from the Y2k Underground : One Thread

Hello everybody. I'm impressed with all the wit overflowing here. But I'm no good on this humor thing, I mean doing it off the cuff. The only way I tap into that is if I experience 1) fear, 2) desperation, 3) depression, 4) anger, 5) irony, 6) or, on occasion, righteous indignation.

The reason my neurons/synapses work that way is genetic: many, many generations of my forefathers stuck in ghettos throughout Europe through the centuries. I especially like the story about Uncle Harry Schenker when he was 16.

It was back in Schlesen (Silesia, or east Prussia, or Poland, or Russia --- all depending on the year you're talking about,) in the '00s (yeah, 1900s.) Uncle Harry was mishugina about Communism, Revolt of the Workers, and other unpopular thoughts, and was passing around inflammatory phamphlets [Do you see the genetic link with my behaviour?] The Czar sent around a posse of Cossacks to Granma Schenker's house (Granpa Louis Schenker had already arrived on Delancey Street in Manhattan, making a name for himself pushing his pushcart.)

The boys on horseback were told to ck out the house, get the boy, and then preferably in the presence of his mother, run him through with a freshly sharpened sword (more impressive than a bayonet.) Sensing that possibility (Ha!), Granma shoved Uncle Harry into the big firewood box in the front room moments before the Keepers Of The Peace entered. They opened the door and demanded the boy be handed over soforth.

At that moment Granma took off on her 'rant.' Putting on her best 'balabusta' act, she started dressing down the officers in the loudest and most condescending and insulting voice she could muster, and continued till finally she detected the first sign of shame and awkwardness crossing their faces (Funny thing about Russians --- "Mother" played big in that culture.) Finally looking definitely a bit sheepish they sort of bumbled out of the door, and off on another hopefully more fruitful Mission of Justice.

Granma, who'd been politely waiting for Granpa to send for her from Amerika, found a way to sell everything they had & with the money hop the first tramp steamer to Amerika, thus eventually ensuring that I'd be around on 2/5/Oh!Oh! to write this little missal.

So as I say, I don't know if I belong here -- 'cause what do I know about Gallows Humor?

Comrade Billski

-- William J. Schenker, MD (wjs@linkfast.net), February 06, 2000


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