THE JOKE IS TELLING

THE JOKE IS TELLING




I think I will start this blog with the punch-line.  End it now.  Before it gets weird or funny.  And this happens.  Starts out innocently enough.  Men or women or both, around the water-cooler, telling jokes or laughing or just trying to make light of something.  Give us a break.  Not everything is as serious as the morning headlines lead us to believe.  In fact, this is a blog about multiple perspectives.
 It starts out with a little fact checking. 

"Is this a joke? 


 

What are you telling me here?"  Seems its supposed to be funny, but by the time we reach the end, the punch-line or one-liner that organizes all the telling into a rational cognitive narrative or truth, we find out the jokes on you, and its not funny at all.  And that’s when its plain and simple.  The Joke is Telling.  Some things should not be aired in public.  Family Skeletons.  Dirty Laundry.  Pictures of the children at bath time.  We need to know our limits. 


 

And sometimes there it is.  A direct consequence for our actions.  Some things are best left unsaid.  Private.  Behind Closed Doors.  Like most things, we mask our experience and our reaction.  He starts to laugh, when what is going on is tragic.  We are free to speak.  And then at some point, they give us enough rope, and we get into trouble.  We become the subject of the joke.  Not Funny.

Analyze and report back to me.  Is this funny?   Is this a joke?  What is this saying or telling me?  And if you really don’t know, then its a legitimate question.  But most of us know, when we sign a non-disclosure agreement and get paid for our time and what we are doing in service with this contract or agreement, there will be no telling.  No Joke.  Could get serious if you leak company secrets.  Ok that’s the way it is.  Personal Consciousness has nothing to do with it.  Leave the position.  Live up to what you have agreed to.  And when all that becomes a violation, it all becomes serious, in a special way.  


 

Of course the punishment should fit the crime.  A crime of consciousness.  Now with motive.  Playing to  a targeted audience.  Stand-up Comedy.  Will we pay for this? Somebody will.  That is the lesson before us.

 

Ok, now we know.  Stoney Blogger has just stepped into a pile of shit.  His shoes are dirty.  Before he comes inside, smiles and joking, he needs to clean his shoes and see it all for what it is.  Not Funny.  Mom is the Master of the Moment.  She won’t find all this as funny as it seems to you.  "You smell.  Show me your hands.  Now your shoes."  And she figures it out quickly.  You don’t belong here.  Get the hose out.  Make clean of this situation.  Make nice. 
"And don’t come home, until you do." 

Social Language might protect us. " If you can’t afford a lawyer, one will be appointed and available for you."   Not sure they said, "Cost Free."  But that comes later.  For now it is important to note, you stepped into a pile of shit.  Something needs to be done.  A miracle could happen.  You could come clean, with no lasting consequences.  We can pray for that.  Yet, The Joke Is Telling the reader or careful observer something quite different.  Keep it up and we could lose a close friendship.  Even worse, nobody will come around
to read my blogs. 

And so in the end, I remind myself the-do and the-don’t of going public with something that might turn out to be serious.  Wasn’t thinking about it all that way.  Now I am.  Don’t want the joke to be on me.  And like I said.  "There are some things best left unsaid."  That’s what I am saying now.  Stepped in a pile of shit.  Now the Clean Up.  Pleasing Mother.