Live and Laugh: Reading for Fun

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Let's check out some recent releases in the Humor section...

What do you have to lose besides a few frown lines?

Ever wonder what people are really saying when they talk politics? Read this, laugh, and understand.

Have you ever read The Devil’s Dictionary by Ambrose Bierce? When I was in my late teens I went through a stage where I was reading whatever I could get my hands on about witchcraft. Many girls go through this, probably because when you’re a teenager you feel like a witch—misunderstood, alienated, and persecuted. I added The Devil’s Dictionary to my small collection, bought only on the strength of the front cover which was red and featured tiny demons.

If you’ve read The Devil’s Dictionary you know that it is not a book about demonology or witchcraft. Instead, it’s a small dictionary that offers perverse, ironic definitions of a selection of terms. It translates what people say into what they mean. For example, Bierce defined “lawyer” as “one skilled in the circumvention of the law.” I was not disappointed in this little volume; I found it amusing and accurate. Even as an adolescent, I was cynical (as defined by Bierce, a cynic is “a blackguard whose faulty vision sees things as they are, not as they ought to be.”)

Many years have passed, and another slim volume with a red cover has been published, The Forbidden Political Dictionary - Complete and Unapproved. Again, it is a dictionary of terms, many of which did not exist when Ambrose Bierce wrote, with their true meanings. Written by John Clifton, The Forbidden Political Dictionary defines “lawyer” as “One versed in litigation and skilled in prevarication who represents clients and misrepresents facts in order to beat the law.” Like me, John Clifton is an admirer of Ambrose Bierce. I know this because I read the forward to his book, something he thinks no one will do.

Clifton is also a cynic, which he defines as “Perceptive person who sees falsity where others see truth and truth where others see falsity. Cynics are often deemed perverse, nasty souls, but are actually honest, nasty souls.” His definitions will strike a chord of familiarity (“interim appointment, n. Sale of a vacated office”) in those who are exposed to politics, even by accident.

I was delighted that one of the terms he includes is “yellow dog Democrat,” one which my father applied to himself until he became a Republican. My southern husband had never heard that term until he met me, which I found odd because my father was from Nebraska, my mother from New York, and I from New Jersey, and we all used it. Clifton defines “yellow dog Democrats” as “traditional Democrats, identified with the old South, originally so-named because they ‘would rather vote for a yellow dog than a Republican.’ Ironically they eventually became Republicans, presumably even worse than yellow dogs.”

From “academia” to “zoo,” Clifton boldly dares to cleverly define words of mass disinformation. Yes, he is taking shots at our political morass, but with a target that big, who could fault him? The Forbidden Political Dictionary is a perfect book to browse through, reading a little bit at a time, but I defy you to do that. Once you start, it’s hard to put down

Bottom Line: Would I buy The Forbidden Political Dictionary? Of course. I’m a sucker for books with red covers (and this one would make a great gift for birthdays, graduates, Father’s Day, etc.).

Will you know how to defend yourself when your clone comes to get you?

Authors Kyle Kurpinski and Terry D. Johnson pretty much have me convinced that human cloning is quite possible and is a future certainty. Kurpinski and Johnson are both bioengineering experts; unlike similar scientists you have seen in b-movies, they both have a sense of humor. I know that there are five people who would be shocked to hear I enjoyed a science book: 1) my high school science teacher; 2) my summer school science teacher; 3) my high school biology teacher; 4) my summer school biology teacher; and 5) my earth science professor who unfairly gave me a “C” because she couldn’t add. My environmental science and geology professors wouldn’t even be mildly surprised. What surprises me is that Kurpinski and Johnson were able to take something as complicated as DNA and make it semi-understandable (let’s face it, I’m a housewife, not a rocket bioengineering scientist).

“DNA” is tossed around so much that the term has worked its way into abuse and misuse. Enjoying certain types of music is not encoded in one’s DNA, nor is the love of (ugh) chocolate.

How to Defeat Your Own Clone teaches us what is now known to be DNA-encoded, how that happens, and why people with similar DNA don’t look and act the same. It also clearly explains the difference between RNA and DNA (besides that RNA, in its entirety, is easier to pronounce). Once we get a basic understanding of what DNA and its purpose are, How to Defeat Your Own Clone explains cloning and stem cell research. It occurs to me that a lot of people who are anti-stem-cell-research don’t have a clue what they are protesting. The authors provide a concise history of cloning, as well as information about stem cells. The real fun starts when the authors attack various myths about cloning. Apparently, too many people have been watching way too many bad movies and television programs. People, it’s fiction. If, somehow, scientists manage to clone your sorry butt (along with the rest of you), twenty years from now your clone isn’t going to want to kill you and assume your bankrupt, lazy ass, pot-bellied identity. Even identity thieves aren’t interested in all of us.

Among the myths explored and exploded are “a clone will know everything you know and will act as you do,” ”decapitated heads can be kept alive indefinitely,” and “a clone has no belly button.” Many of the myths would be comic except that we know people subscribe to them. Kurpinski and Johnson also detail some bioenhancements (my spell-checker hates that word) “that really work.” You see, genes can be manipulated to help you sleep better and be smarter, healthier, immune to disease and pain, and taller, among other improvements. Well…not exactly you, but future generations. Or your clones. When it comes to defeating — actually being in battle with — clones, whether yours or someone else’s, How to Defeat Your Own Clone offers heaps of advice. Of course, it all starts with what the Boy Scouts advise: be prepared.

One of the most important aspects of preparedness is never let your clone (or any clone) read How to Defeat Your Own Clone. That would defeat its purpose. If you do wind up in battle with your own clone, who would be considerably younger than you, remember that it is not you, that it doesn’t know what you know, and that some of its bioenhancements (sorry, spell-checker) will work to its disadvantage. Having said all that, let me just add that if you’re worrying about your clone coming to get you, it’s time to check into a nice quiet place with nice soft walls and let the nice medication ease your mind.

Bottom Line: Would I buy How to Defeat Your Own Clone? And how! I loved this book. I’m going to read it again (or maybe just let my clone read it to me)!

Dear Reader, I am in third grade and I would like your advice on…

When I say a book is twisted, demented, and weird, I am recommending it highly (to people who enjoy weird, twisted, and demented). Little Billy's Letters – An Incorrigible Inner Child’s Correspondence with the Famous, Infamous, and Just Plain Bewilderedis all of those things and more. It’s been a long time since Billy was little, but his letters are relatively recent.

The letters are requests for advice from various well-known people, religions, and corporations. Billy explains why he is writing, that he is around eight-years-old (in third grade), and would like input from his victims. “Victims” because the people to whom he writes are unaware that the letters are actually from a grown man with too much time on his hands. What would you call that? Oh, yeah. A prankster.

I should be angry at author Bill Geerhart for Little Billy's Letters; I’ve stayed up far too late, unable to put it down. The letters from Billy looklike they were written by a child. Geerhart not only has the penmanship down pat, but also the likely grammatical, spelling, and social errors that a child would make. He even used that paper on which we all learned to write (the book’s pages feel like that paper!).

The advisors he consulted range from Colin Powell to Dave Thomas to Charles Manson and friends. He wrote to Anheuser-Busch, asking if they offered a children’s version of beer; and Larry Flynt, inquiring about a kids’ Hustler. Larry Flynt told him to wait until he’s 18 to readHustler, in the meantime he should stick to the Sears & Roebuck catalog (how many children are familiar with the “Roebuck” part?). An Anheuser-Busch representative turned state’s evidence, and forwarded his letters to his parents along with literature on keeping your kids and booze separate.

Some of the responses to his inquiries are long, thoughtful letters from someone who is interested in providing information or advice (Mr. Rogers, Susan Atkins-Whitehouse, Robert Shapiro in a particularly droll missive), others who didn’t bother to read what he wrote (Ian Zerling, George W. Bush, Rosie O’Donnell), and still others who are just out there (Charles Manson).

Billy asked a number of famous killers if he should drop out of school, and most of them encouraged him to stay in school and not make their mistakes. Some made it known in their responses that they were changed people (Manson wanted to know where his newspaper was).

Inquiring of many faiths, Billy wanted to know if their religions were cool, because his parents were allowing him to pick out his own religion. In response he received long letters, invitations to visit services, and brochures describing the organizations (including an atheist group). The best response was from the Mormons who sent two missionaries to his home. Some religious groups expressed that they were, indeed, “cool.”

For every respondent, Geerhart includes biographical or institutional information. Therein lies Little Billy's Letters funniest passages. Geerhart’s notes are not always the most flattering, nor are they all that respectful. However, they aren't fictional, either.

Little Billy wrote to a number of large corporations asking about employment opportunities and requirements, but advising that his first choice was 7-11. He asked Jack Kevorkian about the medical profession, and Dr. Kevorkian replied that some days he wishes heworked at 7-11.He wrote to supreme court justices asking what their favorite food at MacDonald’s was (some don’t eat there, others like it all). Most of the letters were written in the mid- to late-nineties. There are letters about money, morality, a possessed dog, food and a host of other topics.

Some of Little Billy's Letters are funny because we try to imagine the recipients’ reactions to the questions. Being a bit softhearted (or is that “soft in the head?”), I actually felt sorry for a few people who apparently put a lot of thought into their responses. Some letters were previously published in Radar magazine. While there is some poignancy here, most of Little Billy's Letters is very funny.

Bottom line: Would I buy Little Billy's Letters? Oh, yes, I would. I am particularly attracted to books that fall under the “humor” banner and this one is especially well put together.

A dummy’s introduction to the Old Testament that manages to be both reverent and humorous.

Sitting in a boring religious ceremony, you reach for a book — any book — just to keep you awake. You randomly open to a story about a young girl who is raped, the remorse of the rapist and his desire to marry the girl, and the deal his family offers to her family to make amends. Her family pretends to accept the deal with a few clauses of their own, and then goes to his family’s town, kills every man therein, takes every woman and child as slaves, plunders the town, and takes all the livestock and property. So, this is what you read at that First Holy Communion, Bar Mitzvah, Confirmation, Wedding, or Funeral? How appropriate!

David Plotz was at the synagogue for his cousin’s Bat Mitzvah. The only book available, of course, was the Torah, and he opened it to the book of Genesis, Chapter 34 (Bible readers know this as the first book of the Old Testament). Plotz was unfamiliar with this story; the impression it made upon him convinced him to read the entire Torah/Old Testament, and The Good Book is the result of his readings.

Plotz does not interpret the ancient writings. Instead, he recorded his reactions to what he read, summarizing many of the chapters and verses and adding his own commentary. He compares how things were done over 2,000 years ago with what would be acceptable now, and he connects some aspects of his Jewish faith to its origins.

For whatever reasons, I think I’d be a better person if I read the entire Bible. I envy people who can name all the books of the Old and New Testaments (in order, no less!). I assume that if they know the names of every book, they must also know the contents. I don’t think that makes them better people than I, but I think that I would be magically improved by gaining such knowledge. Maybe I would be. After all, if a little knowledge is, indeed, a dangerous thing, than I am one of the most dangerous Bible scholars around. Reading an entire book of ancient wisdom couldn’t be a bad thing; it has to make me better-rounded in some way, no?

Before I go any further, I must warn that if you take the Bible or Torah as literal truth, and/or you believe every word in it is the Word of God, don’t read The Good Book. It will only make you angry. I know a minister in my neighborhood who would burn it, if burning books wasn’t illegal for ecological reasons. Some people just don’t get that God must have a sense of humor.

David Plotz also has a sense of humor. His reactions to some of the stories he reads are sometimes funny because they are so honest. Did he really have nightmares from some passages? We don’t know, but he gives a good indication of how disturbing those passages are. When he points out inconsistencies and outright contradictions, he is not committing blasphemy; he is reporting what has been written.

Try as I might, I have never succeeded in reading the entire Bible. People often say they don’t read it because they get bogged down in all the begats and land deals. They’re right. Each time I’ve tried, I gave myself a break and started with the New Testament, but sure enough, I couldn’t get through the minutiae. Plotz does this for us. The Good Book does not summarize every chapter of the Old Testament; it concentrates on the people and events that forged Judaism, which is also the basis of Christianity.

Plotz has two outstanding gifts that make The Good Book a joy to read. He is analytical and possesses a knowing wit. He picks up details that we might overlook as we try to absorb the whole picture. He peppers his text with personal stories and observations that are sometimes hilarious. I normally don’t laugh loudly when I read — I express assorted sounds that pass for laughter. The Good Book had me laughing out loud, giggling, and reading long passages to my poor husband who would enjoy reading it himself.

There are plenty of lessons one can learn from The Good Book, and it lays a foundation of interest that makes the reader want to follow up Plotz’s descriptions with a foray into the real deal — the Torah or Bible. Plotz has been where those of us with little knowledge are, and he provides us with a map directly to the most interesting chapters. I suspect that many people who read The Good Book will pick up the original “Good Book” and read its accounts. I don’t know if they will become better people, but it can’t hurt. Right?

Bottom Line: Would I buy The Good Book? Heavens, yes!

It’s hard not to greedily digest this book, but try to savor its humor in small portions.

How do you take your humor? Dark? Twisted? Goofy? Corny? Sick? Raunchy? If any of these appeal to you, you will enjoy a collection of comic strips, Cyanide and Happiness, by Kris, Rob, Matt & Dave. The book’s publicist warns, “This book is illicit, insensitive, perverse, profane, dark, depraved, reprehensible and, well, just plain wrong. Those of a sensitive nature should put it down immediately and pick up a Self-Help book instead.” Most of that is accurate, though Cyanide and Happiness is a lot more entertaining than a self-help book.

Cyanide and Happiness is a webcomic, hosted by explosm.net. The characters are stick figures in t-shirts, and interestingly the drawings do convey emotions. What they also do is maim each other in a variety of violent ways. The humor is totally irreverent, and will be offensive to a silent majority who won’t have occasion to pick the book up, anyway. In the introduction to Cyanide and Happiness the author/artists advise, “If you are younger than 15 or older than 50 there is an 87% chance something in this book will offend you…These aren’t your grandma’s Sunday funnies, but I think that’s why we like them. Your grandma’s sort of a bitch.” I must be in the 13% minority, being both over 50 and a grandmother, and found the book a welcome addition to my humor collection. Mind you, the two sections I check out first in the book store are humor and serial killers (excuse me, “True Crime”).

Most of the grandparents I know would be offended by Cyanide and Happiness. Some of the cartoons are sexually oriented, many are violent, but mostly they are weird. Funny weird. I may not have found them offensive because they are rendered so good-naturedly. The colors used in this stick figure world are bright and the drawings are unthreatening. The degree of “sickness” involved rests on the reader’s sense of humor. If you appreciate sick jokes and have a vivid imagination, you will see more in these drawings than is actually there.

The comics are all between one and nine panels and 120 of them have appeared on the web site. An additional thirty were created for this book. Some contain jokes you may have already heard (or seen), but they are still funny in the stick-figure world context. There are one-panel cartoons that are bound to be repeated, such as “Bulimia. Twice the taste, no calories” (think about it).

The hard thing about sharing what’s in the book is that it doesn’t translate to pictureless prose very well, so I can’t tell you about two comic strips that deal with 9/11 and Abraham Lincoln (separately). This is the second time this year that I’ve come across a 9/11 reference which was truly funny, something I didn’t believe possible. Like many of the comic strips included in Cyanide and Happiness, the 9/11 content isn’t so much “haha” funny, but more “oh, yeah.”

I wanted to share at least one very funny entry, and I think I can with a six-panel strip that features a parent telling a child a bedtime story, “Hey, Diddle Diddle.” The first four panels show the parent reciting the poem and in the fifth saying “Yayyyyy! You like that?” To which the child replies in panel six, “What sh** are you smoking Dad, seriously?”

I like to pass books on to others after I’ve read them (if I don’t, I’ll run out of living space), but Cyanide and Happiness is too entertaining to give up. I’m willing to share, but I know I’ll want to return to its pages.

Bottom Line: Would I buy Cyanide and Happiness? Hell, yeah.

An amusing journey through the things that make life so darn complicated.

Don’t you just hate reviews and essays that start “Webster’s Third International defines…”? The writer somehow needs to reinforce what s/he is saying through the authority of a dictionary. The writer then applies his/her own definition to the words that comprise the original definition, and uses a narrow interpretation of said definition to fit his/her point. If a speaker bombastically delivered the previous three sentences, it would be a rant.

Thinking I misinterpreted what “rant” means, I looked it up and, thanks to the Internet and specifically Google, it’s easy to find definitions in many sources at the same time (just Google “define” + a word). What caused me to question my understanding of this particular word is a book, But Then Again I Could Be Wrong: The Book of Rants. Within its pages, author Jim Rising offers observations on a multitude of subjects, and many of these observations will make the reader smile. None of them qualify as rants in the style of ranter king Andy Rooney, or pretender-to-the-throne Dennis Miller. Ranting is defined as speaking or writing — declaiming — aggressively, bombastically, violently, angrily, vehemently…need I continue? George Carlin was a good ranter. Many comedians attempt to be.

Jim Rising is a writer for the Scranton/Wilkes-Barre, PA Weekender and the clever host of an appealingly named radio program, “Rising at Ten.” Rising explains that his “rants” were originally broadcast on WDMT 102.3 and he chose “rants” for alliterative purposes — “Rising Rants.” Each of Rising’s rants ends with his signature line “Or then again I could be wrong.” This device may work well on daily radio broadcasts, but if you read more than one rant a day, it will start to get on your nerves, detracting from what you have read. His editor might have done well to advise him to include the line in the title (as he has) and the first and last chapters. 

One of Rising’s rants is a lovely piece about wildlife in the snow, late at night. He writes about his lawn mower, the alarming crime rate in his community, whiskey for breakfast, flea market finds, Alzheimer’s disease, money, air travel, and a host of other topics that dance through his fertile imagination. He observes and relates, seeing things that most see and experience, then gently (at least, in print) tells us about them. When he writes “I am in cell hell,” we also relate…to him.

Throughout his 225 pages, Rising is funny, self-deprecating, astute, and even wise. He is never offensive, mean, or crude. When we look at the world through his eyes, we sometimes see things exactly as we always have, and at other times we apply a refreshing, new interpretation.

Perhaps But Then Again I Could Be Wrong: The Book of Rants should be read like a book of meditations, one or two chapters at a time to start the day. The reader will have something to consider as well as a pleasant thought or two, and may put personal rants on hold. One warning, however: you will disagree with the author. In so many of his observations, there is no way in the world that he could he be wrong.

Bottom Line: Would I buy this book? Yes, I found it thought-provoking, as well as entertaining.

Read how one woman displayed uncommon patience and tact as she dated 10 men mother wouldn’t want her to bring home.

What Was I Thinking?! How Not to Date could have been subtitled “Ten Reasons to Remain Celibate.” Annie Earley writes about 10 men she dated after her divorce at age 51. All but the first were men she met through on-line dating services. Earley’s style is informal, nearly stream-of-consciousness; reading her book is like sitting down with a friend telling you what’s been going on in her life, non-stop for two hours. She also shares her rules, philosophy, and tips for on-line dating.

There are times when the reader feels “hey, this only one side of the story,” as she describes some of her dating and relationships disasters. With some of the men, it seems like she should have cut them loose much sooner, while others didn’t seem to get much of a chance. It seems discretion and a desire to be fair prevented Earley from being more explicit.

When she started her quest to find someone "to relax in front of the fire with," Earley tried not to be superficial. She didn’t want to judge someone on his looks alone, and she spent many hours on the telephone with some of the characters she had “connected” with on the Internet. The problem with that is she would actually like someone as she got to know him telephonically, and then be disappointed when she met him in person and felt no “sparks,” as she put it.

It’s noble not to judge people by looks, but when you are looking for a soulmate, physical attraction is part of the equation. Two of Earley’s requirements in a man are teeth and hygeine. If she were to find that he had lied about his age, height, weight, or other physical attributes, she jettisoned any thought of a relationship on the spot.

Despite the wonderful moral we learned from Beauty and the Beast, we all know if there’s something you can’t stand in a person, dating them isn’t going to make it better. What you find repulsive at the first meeting doesn’t become adorable soon after.

I could relate to Earley’s experience because I was at a similar age when I re-entered the dating pool. It didn’t occur to me, unfortunately, that you would have to ask someone if they had teeth (natural or store-bought). Of course, if teeth aren’t important to you there may be other areas you should emphasize.

What Was I Thinking?! is personal; you may feel like you’re reading someone’s diary when you pick it up. Earley candidly discusses her dates, but her remembrances are kind to the men she dated, even those with whom she developed relationships that ultimately did not work out. It’s left to the reader to decide that some of these guys were weirdos and losers, and wonder why she hadn’t dumped them sooner.

Annie Earley had three specific rules that she tried to apply to every new dating experience: obtain a clear picture of the guy; meet in a public place, “preferably in the afternoon;” and “drive my own car to and from” the meeting place. Something she did not include in her rules, but is very important, is discuss things with the people who love you, your friends and family. Earley had an informal Advisory Committee that included her mother, sister, sister-in-law, and a few other friends and relatives. On at least two occasions, when she was considering breaking one of her rules, an “advisor” talked her out of it. Both times, following someone else's advice proved a wise move.

While What Was I Thinking?! How Not to Date does offer some advice, it is really one woman’s story. Twice she decided to take a break from dating, and the second time she actually did. She seems to have learned that there doesn’t have to be a man in your life to make it complete. When she was dating losers, she seemed desperate to have someone — anyone. When she stepped back and looked at her experiences, she realized she could have done better (one of her friends told her that every guy she dated was ugly). For the most part it wasn’t a man’s looks that were the problem, it was his attitude.

Wisely, Earley knew that if she wasn’t a priority for a man, the relationship wasn’t going anywhere. In the end, she met someone with whom she had lots in common and married him. It was not an on-line match-up; she met him through friends and he was “the one.” Readers will enjoy her honesty and sense of humor in writing about dating, men, and herself. Beware, though, What Was I Thinking?! How Not to Datecould have been better proofed and edited.

Bottom Line: Would I buy What Was I Thinking?! How Not to Date? No, not because I didn’t enjoy it, but because I’m not usually interested in the subject matter. It was a fun read.