First of all do not by any means be funny or in any way humorous. Always write with a serious eye that has no irony or metaphor for that matter. And remember: it is only funny if someone is laughing with you. Not at you, you get that, right?
This was my first lesson from the great Oswald Magnificant The Unobserved. When you write "serious stuff" the first clue to your success is marginality--how unknown are you? If the answer is "very well" then you have failed and probably are at least humorous if not hilarious. Oswald once told me after a few rounds of schnapps that "to laugh is to assume the funny, whereas to not laugh is to presume the melancholy." I took him at his word and drank all his schnapps. Oswald was amused.
There was a daily report we read back then, called The Humor Dispatch. We read this eagerly and were quite fond of the anecdotes and lymerics. There was a poetry section but we all agreed that poetry and humor are at odds, mostly, and so the paper discontinued the poetry section.
On January 15th, a red-letter day, a pinot noit (if I may), Oswald told us of Dempster's Egress. We had all heard of the great Dempster for years but to have Oswald Magnificant The Unobserved tell us brought home the pudding, as they say.
In short, Dempster's thesis was plain, yet wrapped snugly in cynacism. If all else fails (the egress) resort to pratfalls and chicanery and failing that, a well-made pie in the face. If your audience is laughing, or tittering, then you are well on your way to humorlessness.
This, Dempster's Egress, put me at odds with my fellow students. For many months I had fallen away from the idea of humor. I believed, staunchly, that humor has its place and time. For example: the rhodentions of Chaplin or The Three Stooges or even MASH. I believed I was abnormal in my tastes and kept them to myself. Yet, I could not help laughing.
Months before I had talked with Emily of The Prurient Soul about humor and its deleterious affects on the psyche. Her rejoinder: "pish posh", which invoked a kind of funnyness in me and was afraid. I told myself it was not her well-rounded breasts that kept me informed but her ratiocinations that kept me enthralled.
To this day, I believe I am a success.
This was my first lesson from the great Oswald Magnificant The Unobserved. When you write "serious stuff" the first clue to your success is marginality--how unknown are you? If the answer is "very well" then you have failed and probably are at least humorous if not hilarious. Oswald once told me after a few rounds of schnapps that "to laugh is to assume the funny, whereas to not laugh is to presume the melancholy." I took him at his word and drank all his schnapps. Oswald was amused.
There was a daily report we read back then, called The Humor Dispatch. We read this eagerly and were quite fond of the anecdotes and lymerics. There was a poetry section but we all agreed that poetry and humor are at odds, mostly, and so the paper discontinued the poetry section.
On January 15th, a red-letter day, a pinot noit (if I may), Oswald told us of Dempster's Egress. We had all heard of the great Dempster for years but to have Oswald Magnificant The Unobserved tell us brought home the pudding, as they say.
In short, Dempster's thesis was plain, yet wrapped snugly in cynacism. If all else fails (the egress) resort to pratfalls and chicanery and failing that, a well-made pie in the face. If your audience is laughing, or tittering, then you are well on your way to humorlessness.
This, Dempster's Egress, put me at odds with my fellow students. For many months I had fallen away from the idea of humor. I believed, staunchly, that humor has its place and time. For example: the rhodentions of Chaplin or The Three Stooges or even MASH. I believed I was abnormal in my tastes and kept them to myself. Yet, I could not help laughing.
Months before I had talked with Emily of The Prurient Soul about humor and its deleterious affects on the psyche. Her rejoinder: "pish posh", which invoked a kind of funnyness in me and was afraid. I told myself it was not her well-rounded breasts that kept me informed but her ratiocinations that kept me enthralled.
To this day, I believe I am a success.