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Laughter and Humor

Laughter and humor are a core spiritual discipline that keeps us from becoming so serious about life that we forget to laugh. As serious as life sometimes is, there is always a funny side to most anything.

Participants: 33
Latest Activity: Sep 2, 2015


The Dalai Lama has joked several times about the heat. "Sometimes in India, very hot, so I do this," he said. He took a wet, white cloth, laid it flat atop his scalp and said: "Special hat."

Discussion Forum

humor and spirituality 4 Replies

Started by Allan Ament. Last reply by Allan Ament Jan 17, 2011.

Our Favorite Funny Movies 7 Replies

Started by Helen Shultz-Kamadulski. Last reply by Aleta Shepler Aug 24, 2010.

Study: Abstinence-Only Lunch Programs Ineffective At Combating Teen Obesity 2 Replies

Started by Matt Henry. Last reply by George Polley Aug 16, 2009.

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Comment by Barbara Padgett on October 3, 2012 at 3:32pm

I love this idea! I'm a double Saggitarius and I love being silly! Also, as Oscar Wilde said, if you are going to tell people the truth first make them laugh....otherwise, they will kill you!

Comment by Matt Henry on November 15, 2010 at 8:51pm
Comment by George Polley on September 26, 2010 at 6:31am
Hi Aleta,

Your poem and little bio of Moshe fits well here and in Poetry Slam. Parrots are remarkable birds. Moshe sounds like a fascinating character.
Comment by Aleta Shepler on September 26, 2010 at 1:56am
Not sure if this belongs here or on poetry slam:
I had an Amazon parrot as a companion for 9 years. He was robbed from his nest by a cat, blinded in one eye and his beak was ribbed off. A Venezuelan woman saved him and glued his beak back on with super glue. But she had to move and gifted him to a family from Finland. They had to move and gifted him to us. He spoke three languages: Finnish, English, and Spanish. He also spoke dog as in "Bow Wow Wow." Parrots mate for life and when their mate dies, they suffer. Our parrot, Moshe (for the one-eyed Israeli statesman) was a wee bit crazy. He was in love with our washing machine, in a kinky kind of way.

For Moshe

Parrots mate for Life.
Caged, my mate captured my laugh;
Fowl insanity.
Comment by Matt Henry on May 18, 2010 at 11:21pm
Deep Ecumenism humor from Gary Trudeau / Doonesbury:

Comment by Marian Methner on March 21, 2010 at 12:28pm
Matt, will you please put that on the garden site? Cracked me up and then ...
Comment by Matt Henry on March 12, 2010 at 11:40am
check your theological/comsological brain at the door, then read on:

Yard Work as Viewed From Heaven
(Overheard in a conversation between God and St. Francis)

God: Francis, you know all about gardens and nature; what in the world is going on down there? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistles and the stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought, and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honeybees, and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of color by now. All I see are patches of green.

St.Francis: It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. They are called the Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers "weeds" and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.

God: Grass? But it is so boring, it's not colourful. It doesn't attract butterflies, bees or birds, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want grass growing?

St.Francis: Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it has grown a little, they cut it....sometimes two times a week.

God: They cut it? Do they bale it like hay?

St Francis: Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.

God: They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?

St.Francis: No sir, just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.

GOD: Now let me get this straight. . . They fertilise it to make it grow and when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?

St.Francis: Yes, sir.

God: These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.

St.Francis: You aren't going to believe this Lord, but when the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.

God: What nonsense! At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep the moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves become compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life.

St.Francis: You'd better sit down, Lord. As soon as the leaves fall, the Suburbanites rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.

God: No way! What do they do to protect the shrubs and tree roots in the winter to keep the soil moist and loose?

St Francis: After throwing the leaves away, they go out and buy something called mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves.

God: And where do they get this mulch?

St.Francis: They cut down the trees and grind them up to make mulch.

God: Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. Saint Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?

St.Catherine: "The Age of Stupid" Lord. It's about. . .

God: Never mind - I think I just heard the whole story from Saint Francis!
Comment by Marian Methner on February 10, 2010 at 4:30pm
I've been laughing myself to sleep reading Heidegger and A Hippo Walk Through Those Pearly Gates, by Thomas Cathcart adn Daniel Klein.

So Heidegger and a hippo stroll up to the Pearly Gates and Saint Peter says, "Listen, we've only got room for one more today. So which of the two of you give me the best answer to the question, "What is the meaning of life?" gets to come in."
And, Heidegger says, "To think Being itself explicitly requires disregarding Being to the extent that it is only grounded and interpreted in terms of beings and for beings as their ground, as in all metyphsics."
Before the hippo can grunt one word, Saint Peter says to him, "Today's your lucky day, Hippy!"
Comment by Matt Henry on January 26, 2010 at 9:12am
I've been forwarded this about 8 times today already, so thought I might as well jump into the snowball ;)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
FROM THE DESK OF SATAN
Dear Pat Robertson,

I know that you know that all press is good press, so I appreciate the shout-out. And you make God look like a big mean bully who kicks people when they are down, so I'm all over that action. But when you say that Haiti has made a pact with me, it is totally humiliating. I may be evil incarnate, but I'm no welcher.

The way you put it, making a deal with me leaves folks desperate and impoverished. Sure, in the afterlife, but when I strike bargains with people, they first get something here on earth -- glamour, beauty, talent, wealth, fame, glory, a golden fiddle. Those Haitians have nothing, and I mean nothing. And that was before the earthquake.

Haven't you seen "Crossroads"? Or "Damn Yankees"? If I had a thing going with Haiti, there'd be lots of banks, skyscrapers, SUVs, exclusive night clubs, Botox -- that kind of thing. An 80 percent poverty rate is so not my style. Nothing against it -- I'm just saying: Not how I roll.

You're doing great work, Pat, and I don't want to clip your wings -- just, come on, you're making me look bad. And not the good kind of bad. Keep blaming God. That's working. But leave me out of it, please. Or we may need to renegotiate your own contract.

Best, Satan
Comment by Lamar Davis on December 17, 2009 at 2:26am
FORREST GUMP GOES TO HEAVEN


The day finally arrived. Forrest Gump dies and goes to Heaven.
He is at the Pearly Gates, met by St. Peter himself However, the gates are closed,
and Forrest approaches the gatekeeper.

St. Peter said, 'Well, Forrest,
it is certainly good to see you. We have heard a lot about you. I must
tell you, though, that the place is filling up fast, and we have been administering
an entrance examination for everyone. The test is short, but you have to
pass it before you can get into Heaven.'

Forrest responds, 'It sure is
good to be here, St. Peter, sir. But nobody ever told me about any entrance
exam. I sure hope that the test ain't too hard.
Life was a big enough test
as it was.'

St. Peter continued, 'Yes, I
know, Forrest, but the test is only three questions.


First:
What two days of the week
begin with the letter T?


Second:
How many seconds are there in a year?


Third:
What is God's first name?'

Forrest leaves to think the questions
over. He returns the next day and sees St. Peter, who waves him up, and
says, 'Now that you have had a chance to think the questions over,
tell me your answers.'

Forrest replied, 'Well, the
first one -- which two days in the week begins with the letter 'T'?
Shucks, that one is easy. That would be Today and Tomorrow.'

The Saint's eyes opened wide and
he exclaimed, 'Forrest, that is not what I was thinking, but you do
have a point, and I guess I did not specify, so I will give you credit
for that answer. How about the next one?' asked St. Peter.

'How many seconds in a year?
Now that one is harder,' replied Forrest, 'but I thunk and thunk about
that, and I guess the only answer can be twelve.'

Astounded, St. Peter said, 'Twelve?
Twelve? Forrest, how in Heaven's name could you come up with twelve seconds
in a year?'

Forrest replied, 'Shucks, there's
got to be twelve: January 2nd, February 2nd, March 2nd.. '

'Hold it,' interrupts St. Peter.
'I see where you are going with this, and I see your point,
though that was not quite what I had in mind....but I will have to give
you credit for that one, too. Let us go on with the third and final question..
Can you tell me God's first name'?

'Sure,' Forrest replied,
'it's Andy.'

'Andy?' exclaimed an exasperated
and frustrated St Peter.

'Ok, I can understand how you
came up with your answers to my first two questions, but just how in the
world did you come up with the name Andy as the first name of God?'

'Shucks, that was the easiest
one of all,' Forrest replied. 'I learnt it from the song—

ANDY WALKS WITH ME,
ANDY TALKS WITH ME,
ANDY TELLS ME I AM HIS OWN.'

St. Peter opened the Pearly Gates,
and said: 'Run, Forrest, run.'
 

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