|
|
Introspective on Silliness| | I've said before that since we, humans, have the ability to do irrational things, then we should take full advantage of that and occasionally do irrational things. Animals can only act according to their instinct, and as much as we like to think that it's silly when a monkey smacks itself on the butt or when our dog growls at the refrigerator, they're just being animals. They're not acting silly, animals are totally in line with their nature. They could be acting playful, but they're not acting irrationally. Animals are not silly.
Humans, on the other hand, have this sick ability to do things that don't make any sense. In extreme cases, we go to war. But even in the day-to-day, we can do things that have no logical value whatsoever. I could crochet a non-functioning defribulator out of purple yarn. I could.
I went to the Salvador Dali Museum in St. Petersburg this weekend. What struck me about Dali's art was how his surrealism beheld more truth than one would gather from first glance. Tangible truth hid underneath a meaningless surface. Truth. Even if the image was irrational, it spoke no falsity. And he put great amounts of effort into his work, he wasn't just mindlessly painting whatever goofy images popped into his head. The bizarre images Dali created were a representation of truth, despite their irrational (absurd) appearance.
I've also been watching a lot of Monty Python lately. These british comedians were well aware of their silliness, and embraced it with dedication and passion. I laugh the hardest when the silliness has been tested and rehearsed. As impressive as good improvisation is, a scripted bit of silliness is something to marvel at.
One man comes into the store with his wife and says, "we'd like to buy a bed please" where there are two salesmen. Mr. Veritay says "our cheapest bed is 800 pounds" "800 pounds!?" the buyer exclaims. The other salesman, named Lambert, speaks up, "oh, you must realize, everything Mr. Veritay says must be divided by 10." The buyer goes along, "ah, so the bed is 80 pounds?" Mr. Veritay answers, "that's right 800 pounds." "and how wide is it?" "the width is 60 feet wide." "ah, and the length" "uhh, the length... Lambert? How long is the bed?" "It's two feet long." The buyer is surprised, "two feet long?" Mr. Veritay explains, "yes, you must multiply everything Lambert says by three. So when he says that the bed is two feet long, it is in fact 60 feet long." The buyer goes along, "ah yes, I see." Mr. Veritay then says, "Lambert, will you show these 20 good people the dog kennels please?" The buyer is surprised again, "wait, dog kennels?" Mr. Veritay explains, "oh yes, you have to say 'dog kennel' to Lambert, because if you say 'mattress,' he'll put a bag over his head." And it goes on like this.
It is not merely a random idea that works in one moment, but a construction of absurdity that Monty Python creates. They never break character, but are always rigidly devoted to their silliness.
I always hated it when Jimmy Fallon would laugh during his SNL skits. It revealed an unprofessional self-awareness, and actually brought down the value of the humor.
Silliness is a sort of virtue. A mediation that mustn't be overused, but a human strength that should never be undermined.
But the utmost example of ridiculousness is known by all: the real world.
If you've been alive long enough, you've realized that life doesn't make sense. We've tried to figure it out for as long as we can remember, but we still can't nail this shit down. Why do bad things happen to good people? What's the point of all this? Where did we come from and where are we going? All of these hilarious questions have occasionally been taken seriously, and as a result, we've seen science, religion and philosophy all take some valiant stabs at an inherently ridiculous task.
I'm now at a point at which I no longer want to figure things out. The world has proven itself to me, and I will not insult its intelligence by trying to develop a formula. If things don't make sense, then I am not going to forcefully try to make sense of them. That would be the height of foolishness.
Furthermore, I cannot let the absurdity of life get me down. Why would absurdity be something to take seriously anyway? The world doesn't want to be taken seriously, and I will respect its wishes.
Ecclesiastes still says it best:
"Go, eat your food with gladness, and drink your wine with a joyful heart, for it is now that God favors what you do. ...Enjoy life with your wife, whom you love, all the days of this meaningless life that God has given you under the sun--all your meaningless days. For this is our lot in life and in your toilsome labor under the sun."
And we're always trying to ignore this. We're always trying to make sense of life, trying to give meaning to a thing that is meaningless. Let's stop making sense for a moment and be silly. Let's embrace silliness today, and when we're asked "what is the meaning of life?" let's say, "bananas. in. pajamas."
And here's why we need to embrace silliness: enjoyment.
If you watch Monty Python, you'll notice that they're all just making up games. Whether it's word games, philosphy games or visual games, they're just creating their own rules and playing by them. They're not playing by the rules of the land, no, they've decided to mock those rules.
I mentioned earlier that humans go to war with each other, and that this a viscious extreme of human nature. We take our ability to do irrational things too far when we go to war with each other. If people sought virtuous silliness, there would still be competition amongst one another, but we wouldn't take things too far. When you think about it, tempered silliness is the explanation for sports. Let's just look at baseball.
One day, two men are walking through a forest. An argument occurs, and the men begin to fight each other. One man picks up a stick, another picks up a rock. This could result in further violence, but one of the men happens to be a silly person, and makes a suggestion, "wait just a minute here, before you throw that rock!" For whatever reason, the rock-holder refrains himself. The stick-holder goes on, "I want you to throw that rock at me. And I want to swing at it with my stick. If I miss the rock, I will surrender my position and you will win the argument. But if I hit the rock, I will run around in a circle." It was a very silly suggestion indeed. So the rock was hurled directly at the stick-holder, and was walloped back at the rock-holder. As soon as the stick-holder hit the rock, he started to run. Picking the rock back up, the rock-holder then chased the stick-holder in a circle around the forest. Once the rock-holder caught up with the stick-holder, they had forgotten what they were arguing about, and the rock-holder wanted to try his hand at hitting the rock with the stick. So they took turns. Throwing rocks at each other and hitting them with sticks, running around like idiots.
Oh, it was a silly sight to behold! But developed, this routine became America's favorite pasttime. And millions of people take it very, very seriously these days.
So go play sports. Tell some jokes. Create a work of art. These forms of tempered silliness and irrationality promote peace on earth.
I know that what I've written goes against everything that silliness stands for, but forgive me. I am immature and have not yet learned how to fully embrace the virtue of silliness myself. But I have a feeling that when I break free of this sensible nonsense (that is, the nonsensical thing actually being sensibility), you'll know it.
| | | Posted 2/26/2009 6:52 PM - 34 Views - 2 eProps - 1 Comment
- recommend
  - recs0
- share
- email
 - sent0
|
|
