Dirk Flinthart's working on family-friendly Whimsies

http://www.seleda.com/may02/top10.shtml

Thing is, everybody thinks their family is funny. Even you. Go on. Admit it. And they are, too - except not for the reasons you think. That story you always like to tell: about the way your grand-uncle Alphonse accidentally swallowed his false teeth and told the doctor he was worried that he’d bite himself on the bum... it’s not bloody funny. The reason people laugh when you tell it is that you always screw it up by laughing at your own joke until whatever you’re drinking comes rushing out your nose, and you stagger about clutching your throat and screaming about your burning sinuses.

See, that’s metahumour. I’m laughing at the way you laugh. What you’re laughing about isn’t funny, but the goofy way you look when you laugh - that’s funny. And if you can grasp metahumour, suddenly a lot of otherwise dull Internet sites become funny in a black and depressing kind of way. Take this site, for example:

http://ohioline.osu.edu/flm00/ac02.html

If it doesn’t bring a blackhearted rictus to your lips, then you probably DESERVE to go to a course like that.

Oh, the humanity. Forgive me my cultural cynicism... but the concept behind this site is so staggeringly American, so appallingly Family Circus that it makes my blood run cold. "Honor the child within you". Errgh.

How did the child get in there? Why hasn’t somebody called a paramedic? And what about: "Surround yourself and your family with happy people..." Doesn’t that sound unnervingly like a McDonald’s advertisement? Who are these people? Where do they get these atrociously banal ideas?

Right. Sorry. Just got carried away for a moment there. But oh, Lord; that bit about "everybody invent a funny bumper sticker for your family" nearly killed me. That’s put me right off. How am I going to go on with this article now? I know! I’ll tell you a funny story about my two-year-old son. Yeah, that’s the way to go... geez, two-year-olds are funny, eh? You ask him to show you his nose, right? Then (get this) he sticks his finger up his nostril, see? Then he says "nose", but because his finger is halfway to his brain he says it in this sort of whining Elmer Fudd voice, and - oh, I think I just snorted my Tequila into my sinuses, Jesus Christ that hurts! Help! Somebody call a paramedic - oh, Christ, my brain!

Editor’s Note: Mister Flinthart has been given leave of absence due to his precarious mental state. In lieu of further rantings on the topic of work and humour, we wish to direct you to the following link, which will take you to the official Dilbert website:

http://www.dilbert.com/.