The Skin On Our Teeth

Well, how do you like them crackers?  We made it through another year more or less intact and slightly less for the wear and tear.  As Igor (that's Eye-Gore) remarked in Young Frankenstein, "Could be worse.  Could be raining."

In any event, it was a good month here on the Far Side.  December marked a new high in visitors, coming within a hair's breadth of our all-time record of 13,000 and change, which we hit shortly before disappearing off the face of the Earth for a couple of years.  Thus, our come-back is complete!

The majority of new visitors are coming from Russia, and they are apparently hacking our site and changing key words in sentences all the way back to 2010, when we started this labor of love.  To all these good folk we say, "Благодарю вас за вашу поддержку и, пожалуйста, приходите еще."

It's been a long year.  Don't know about you, but it seems like the entire year has been spent pushing boulders uphill, only to have them trundle back down again, crushing innocent by-standers on the way.  To those good folks we say, stay down baby, just stay down.

This was supposed to be a good year for me according to Chinese astrology, but I think I got the dirty end of the Monkey.  Here's hoping the Year of the Red Hot Cock (or Red Fire Rooster if you prefer) will bring a bit of luck with it.  Master Tsai says us Oxen will "bring home the trophy" this year.  If it doesn't happen, I'm going to track down Master Tsai and gag him with his rune stones.

God willing and the creek don't rise, this year should bring a little travel.  In March, we are scheduled to take a week in Bali.  Around mid-year, we are hoping for a first trip to Japan, and at the end of the year, we are eyeing a jaunt to Antarctica leaving out of Tasmania.  If all goes according to plan, I will end the year having set foot on every continent and most major islands of the planet.  Still missing Madagascar, Greenland and Baffin, though.

One major obstacle for 2017, is trying to figure out where we go from here.  As long-time readers know, we like to find the anti-trends, which until now was the now-surfaced Populist Wave.  Now that it has gone mainstream, everyone will start fighting over who is in charge and who led the charge and who will get charged.  That is going to pervert the whole thing into the usual mess and here on the Far Side, we have to figure out where everyone will go next.  As we've often noted here, if everyone is running in one direction, you can pretty much bet your last dollar it's the wrong direction.

One thing is absolutely certain for the coming year: the Globalists ain't done yet.  We've watched them panic for the last five years, knowing that this wave of opposition was coming, but they got caught off guard.  They didn't see Trump coming.  In the early parts of the campaign last year, Trump played the role - willingly or not - of the plucky comic relief.  Turns out that was exactly what folks wanted.

The Globalists have no sense of humor that we mere mortals can detect.  Everything for them is a game of life or death.  They have spent nigh on 300 years trying to set up their little fiefdom, and now face losing it all to a clown.  Talk about indignation!  But, they still have hope!

The one thing that is giving the Globalists hope is that folks are still brainwashed into thinking that they need leadership, government and social institutions.  They haven't yet realized that every individual is his or her own best leader.  Basically, if I can talk to God directly, why do I need a priest?  We are still a long way off from that very fundamental realization, and as long as we continue to need government and leaders and authorities, then the Globalists have an "in".

What gives them nightmares is that Trump will be such a bad president that the entire US, and the world while we're at it, will realize that there is no need for leaders.  From a Far Side point of view, that would be the best possible outcome.  Enlightened Anarchy, for anyone who has read Lysander Spooner, is the only way and truly represents a revolution unlike any in history.

OK, whoa!  This is getting too heavy for the first work day of the year.  We started off with out tongue planted firmly in our cheek, and the next thing you know, we are biting it - the tongue that is.

The only way through this coming year is with a serious sense of humor, if that can possibly be achieved.  It's gonna be one wild ride for anyone not prepared to laugh long and hard at life.  We can't, especially now, take anything too seriously or buy in to any one side too far.  If we do, we lose perspective and take things personally, and that leads to heartache and disappointment.  There's enough of that to go around as it is.

No, we must rise above this mess we call civilization and find things like Farcebook censoring centuries-old artworks because Neptune's wee-wee is hanging out.  Good lord, this is the dawning of a Neo-Victorian Era, where everything is parsed to the n-th degree for anything suggestive of gender, sexuality or, for that matter, humanity.

Of course, us smart folks know that it's not about prudery; it's about censoring beauty, form and figure.  It's about destroying rhythm and harmony.  It's about tossing out those things that lead to elevated hearts and minds, and keeping us all wallowing in filth and slime.

That's why they'll censor Neptune, but not Andres Cerrano or Millie Brown.  The goal is not whether a god's wee-wee is exposed, or whether it is a grotesque display of genderism.  It's all about removing beauty from the world.

Beauty and humor.  I mean, listen to some of the "best" comics out there.  They aren't funny.  All they do is spew vileness and people laugh because, 1) it makes them nervous, and 2) they can't believe they paid for that trash.

In the old days, humor was a means to show us our stupidity.  Look at George Carlin, arguably one of the greatest comics of all time.  His career spanned more than 50 years because he made us laugh at ourselves and at the institutions we take oh-so-seriously.  He was the Great Anarchist who did not destroy except that he built up.

With any luck, 2017 will be a George Carlin year.  If all goes according to plan, we will en masse realize how stupid we've been to follow anyone, much less politicians and priests (rabbis, imam, whatever).  Humanity will begin the seriously funny job of dismantling all these ridiculous control systems that deign to own us, and begin replacing them with beautiful things, funny things, things that help us rise above the daily Bravo Sierra of life.  We can all still be deprogrammed, even the millennials, though obviously humans don't like realizing how stupid there are.

I don't know where I'm going with this, really.  I started off in one direction, then doubled back to take of blind turn into oblivion.

In any case, the point is that we made it through another year, and the coming year, like every single one preceding it, will be full of shocks and surprises, good times and bad, and most of the bad will be brought on us as punishment by our erstwhile owners who don't like uppity servants.

Please ensure that your seatbelt is securely fastened, and that your seatbacks and tray tables are in their upright and locked positions.  The captain has warned of turbulence ahead.  Smoke 'em if you got 'em.  Don't worry what the little sign says.

Seems we always get by on a wing and a prayer, and the skin of our teeth.

Arise Fellow LSSGWWD!

Eureka!

I believe I have hit on the secret to a long and happy life!  And...I am willing to share that secret with you - absolutely free of charge.  But, you are going to have to read on a bit before I share the recipe.

First of all, you must think about what the following list have in common:

• Winston Churchill
• Fidel Castro
• Groucho Marx
• George Burns
• Mel Brooks

And just to throw you off a bit, the case that proves the rule is George Carlin.  And the exception that proves the rule is Samuel Clemments, otherwise known as Mark Twain.

Have you figured it out yet?  OK, I know Fidel Castro throws you off, but we'll get to him in a minute.  You may have noticed, though, that all these men are famous for three things: laughing, women and smoking cigars.  Amazing, isn't it?  I almost fell out of my chair when it hit me.

I know what you are thinking.  Churchill?  Think about it.  He was obviously famous for his massive cigars.  In fact, there is an entire line of cigars called "Churchills," which have a large ring size and ponderous length.  His sense of humor was notorious.  His quips and witticisms are well known to humor aficionados.  He was also known for his eye for the ladies, though rarely discussed in polite company.  He died at the grand old age of 91.

You will, of course, notice the number of professional comedians on the list.  The three listed are all famous for their senses of humor and their life-long devotion to cigars.  They are also quite famous for their dalliances with the ladies.  

Groucho was a self-confessed lecher and was often seen in the company of attractive young women in his later years.  One cannot deny that laughter and cigars were an integral part of Groucho's persona.  He is reported in his last moments to have released his mistress' hand, taken the cigar from his lips and said, "This is no way to live."  He expired at 87.

But what of the exceptions?

Well, George Carlin was obviously one of the greatest wits of all time, but he was not known for womanizing and made fun of cigar smokers.  His punishment for defying the gods of long and happy lives was to leave us crying at the tender age of 71.

As for Mark Twain, well...like Groucho, the cigar was as much a part of Twain's image as his Einstein haircut and the white wooley mammoth that lived on his upper lip.  Twain was famous for sticking a hat pin in his cigars when he spoke, so that by the end, the audience would be completely hypnotized by the length of the ash, reporting that Twain's speech was amazing, though they couldn't remember anything he said.  Twain died at 75, despite his devotion to women, laughter and cigars, because he had already determined that he would follow Halley's Comet out, the way he had followed it in.  We would have gotten another 20 years out of him if he hadn't been so damn hard-headed.

At last we come to Fidel Castro.  Now you might be thinking to yourself, "Hey, this guy has only got one part of the recipe."  I beg to differ.

Obviously, Fidel has the cigar part of the recipe down pat, but what about the laughter and womanizing?  Well, Fidel and Mel Brooks were born two months apart, so we can assume that Fidel is a big fan of Brooks and likes to laugh, since the two men have so much in common already.  In addition, you just know that Fidel has spent many hours laughing about the number of US presidents he has outlived, having stared down eight of them and so far outlasted five of them, and he's still going at 90.

When it comes to womanizing, we know little of Fidel's proclivities, but we can make some valid assumptions.  If you were the beloved dictator of an entire nation, having served now well over 50 years, and your nation was world famous for cigars, wouldn't you have a private hareem of lovely young virgins rolling your cigars on their silky smooth thighs?  I know I would, and as soon as I become dictator, that will be my first order of business.

Thus we can infer from Fidel's 90 years and counting of cigar smoking is matched by a somewhat more private habit of laughing and chasing women.

I don't know about you, but having discovered this magical brew of eternal life, I immediately ran out and bought all the Cuban cigars I could find and put them in my newly rented Sugar Shack, wherein I will keep my bevy of beauties.  The Sugar Shack is also in the process of receiving my world-record collection of comedy movies and albums, with a modest stage for private shows with top stand-up talent currently touring Southeast Asia.

I shall, in fact, live to realize that everyone who was born before or at the same time as me has died!  I have determined to laugh, smoke and...well, you know - my way to extreme long life!

I shall hereafter be known as the Laughing Smoking Screwing Guy Who Won't Die (LSSGWWD)!  HAHAHAHA (coff coff) Honey - I forget your name - be a good girl and grab my oxygen tank would ya?  That's my girl.  The rest of you rub my funny bone.

In A Pig's Eye

A thousand years ago, there was a comedian named Yakov Smirnoff, whose famous tag line was, "I loaf dees cone-tree."

After my last nemesis, I mean wife, stole everything I ever owned, destroyed our family and strung herself up to the shower head, I pretty much lost my sense of humor. There was nothing left to laugh at and my insides just withered and wasted.

Thankfully, there was a place in the world called Indonesia. Sometimes this place can be a laugh a minute. If there's a labor-intensive, illogical and strangely effective way to do something, then I can guarantee it's being done right now in my neighborhood, and in neighborhoods all over the country.

Maybe it's the fact that I am like Gandalf in Hobbiton; a giant hulk of a man wandering blindly around a world made of and for short people. Certainly I provide endless fodder for the local folk as I nearly knock myself out on overhangs or the chain of broken chairs and stools in my wake as they collapse into their own footprints without resistance of any kind.

Maybe it's the guy burning the trash down the street complaining about air quality in Jakarta, or the folks who buy motorcycles to get around the city more quickly and end up becoming the reason why traffic here is such a nightmare. Perhaps it's the way folks complain about how dirty Jakarta is as they mindlessly toss their wrappers and plastic cups on the ground as they speak.

It could be the way someone will spend 70,000 rupiah to take a taxi across town to save 40,000 on an item that is on sale. Or the sign I saw a while back: Rp.15,000/each or 2 for Rp.35,000. The really funny part was the people buying two. Certainly, watching a woman haggle for an hour with a vendor in the market to save Rp.1,000 (about 10 cents) on a hand of bananas. The best way to get an Indonesian's attention is to say something is free. The second best way is to say it's on sale. Even when neither is true.

It's always a good laugh to see skin-whitening products sold here in the diametically opposite way that tanning products are sold in the states. I'm trying to think of a way to open whitening salons. I'd make a gajillion bucks, trust me. Of course, cigarette ads are infinitely humorous. They are still advertised on TV here, but you are not allowed to show anyone actually smoking. So, you get streams of images of people doing really healthy things followed by the brand logo. Kinda like beer companies sponsoring race cars.

It definitely includes the Indonesian version of the Physician's Desk Reference, which lists only one malady, masuk angin, and only one cure, tolak angin. This literally means "the wind enters," and is blamed for just about anything that makes you uncomfortable. The cure means "to push away the wind." What makes it more humorous is that Indonesian humor is very broad and slapstick. They don't have stand-up comedians, and certainly have never considered word-play as a form of humor. So when I come along and change things around by saying, "masuk anjing" and "tolak anjing," (the dog enters and push away the dog), it takes them about 15 seconds to register what I just said, and then it becomes a running joke. There's an expression, "Okelah kalo begitu," which translates as "alright if that way," or "whatever." So I turn it around as, "Okelah kalo begini (alright if this way). The room full of RCA dogs always tickles me as they ponder the reversal. I could be the Indonesian version of George Carlin if I get an hour-long routine worked out.

One thing Indonesians do that just mystifies me is unplugging everything all the time. Not that the action alone is humorous, but the explanation is that electricity will leak out and cost money. So I just ask a simple question. If that is true, then why do open wall sockets not leak? Stops 'em dead every time.

Indonesians are penny-pinchers to the point of pathological obsession. They make Dutch and Scots look like profligate spenders. When you point out the illogic of their actions, they just walk away shaking their heads as if thinking, "What a dolt. I just saved Rp.35,000 by taking a taxi across town."

Certainly the complaints about corruption make for good entertainment. An Indonesian will rue the rampant government corruption while paying bribes and accepting kick-backs. In fact, it's so ingrained in the way business is done that no one even thinks about when they are doing it. They just complain about some theoretical thing that exists "out there." The dichotomy makes for great theater of the absurd.

Something that tickles me to no end is the fact that millions migrate to Jakarta because this is where the good jobs are, and once they arrive they start complaining because there are so many people here because this is where the good jobs are.

The Indonesian brain must have no bridge between the left and right hemispheres. Nothing else could explain the way one can hold opposite and conflicting ideals, and yet not see the simple contradiction. One thing I will give them, though. At least I found my laugh again.

Thanks! I needed that.

I Loaf dees cone-tree.