KillJoy was Here

Where are you now, Jim Aldridge

Always with a ready loon for a fresh lawyer joke

Your belly laughter stripping the veneer from wigs and robes.

Where are you now, with a good goat doing that,

The perfect staging, set up, prestige punchline

Piercing our pomposity, pretentious self-regard.

Where are you now, with that twinkled eye comeback

A laugh pulled from your deep bank of comic insight

Of catfish, and bottom feeding scum suckers.

We never took much money off you,

But had a good time trying all the same;

Understood that truths revealed in jest enrich us all.

Where were you, Jim, when Jeremiah woked,

Launched a coup, stole humour away

To the dour pulpits of sour correctness, where

Laughter turned bilious, brittle; merriment dried, then died, 

Withering wit has surrendered to insult, invective, while

Joyous display is displaced by virtue signals.

Nothing must be funny now, out here on the edge

Clinging fearfully on the precipice 

Of our first world preciousness.

About this: Jim Aldridge QC, a sometime professional colleague, offered a Canadian dollar (a Loonie) to anyone who would tell him a lawyer joke he had not previously heard. 

But now, in a reborn Puritanical age, jokes seem to be out of fashion, and what passes for humour, mostly isn’t. 

Apparently, life is no longer amusing, has nothing to teach from a laugh. Humour is aborted for fear of triggering offence: new jokes are unborn, and old ones kept hidden away in the attic of our minds, like an embarrasing old uncle, whose values no longer pass our polite social smell test.

 And we are all the poorer for it.

 © Philip Knight 2018