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See, the great thing about joking around is that you can explore a subject without getting mired in it. You can look at it from different angles, play around with ideas, and never once have to touch the thing itself. It's like playing with fire, except instead of burning yourself with serious debate, you can watch the flames tumble through the air without fear of causing harm.

It's too bad that more people don't see the good in humor. It's one of the most effective analytical tools in my arsenal. I can brighten someone's day by making light of the dark. I can tell someone the most serious of news, or give a painfully honest insight, and numb the sting with a well-meaning, lighthearted delivery.

Here's where I get whiny. Feel free to ignore the rest of this post, o readers of mine journal.

I do not understand why people are hurt by jokes. I can take any sort of mocking. Really, I mean it. So long as it's not a thinly veiled attack, I play along with whatever mockery you throw at me. But most people can't do that, and I cannot understand it. I'm willing to make a joke about pretty much anything, be it the Holocaust, or gas prices, or losing a cell phone, or even my ridiculous depression-induced antics, but others can't seem to, you know, get it. ((Stop breathing until I die? Sounds like something a five year old would do.))

Thank you, Dad. You and your jokes, you've ruined my life by making me look at humor all wrong. Why must I have been raised to see life as a series of jokes and ironies?

...Which is a joke. I wouldn't have it any other way.