A Good Invasion

Life is rough.

When viewed objectively, it is a collection of unfunny events and circumstances routinely mixed together in a blender, causing the infinite combination of events and circumstances that happen to us every day.

You wake up every morning to a squawking alarm clock, rush to an okay job to hang out with people whose company you wouldn’t have chosen, eat some things that you probably don’t like so that you can stay alive, go home and try to rest up enough so that you can have enough energy to do it again tomorrow. Wash, rinse, repeat ad infinitum for the rest of your life until your body is unable to process energy any longer, and then game over.

That is life. That’s what it’s like to live. There can be nothing more than this. Life can be nothing more than a combination and redistribution of these elements.

But something funny happens.

As children, we were obsessed with exactly where things come from. In our first intelligent assessment of the world around us, we quickly realize two laws of the world in which we live:

1: That things must after all come from somewhere, and not everything can come from just anything. (However gratifying a mad alchemy where mice could be born from sweatshirts and barley would be, we must admit that reality must have rules.)

and:

2: There are many things that are impossible. (My dream of riding a winged unicorn will never be fully realized.)

It’s a little bit like living in the two dimensional world of a cartoon strip. A three dimensional cube is an impossibility. If a cube did happen to pop up in our 2D world, we couldn’t help but wonder how this impossible object found it’s way into our dimension.

Impossible cubes are coming to visit us all the time.

Maybe this is an obtuse way to approach the subject of humor, but as C.S. Lewis said:

“I have been emboldened to write of it because I notice that a man seldom mentions what he had supposed to be his most idiosyncratic sensations without receiving from at least one (often more) of those present the reply, ‘What! Have you felt that too? I always thought I was the only one.’”

I have just described what I feel life really is. These are the inescapable facts of the matter. If this is true, if life is just one slow slide of drudgery towards oblivion, then how can we take the time to laugh? If life is darkness, why do we see light beyond the shadows?

That is how I feel when something funny happens. I don’t feel that it’s a redistribution of events and circumstances. It isn’t possible for something funny to spawn from unfunny components. When the sunlight of laughter shines on my face, I’m being visited by a different sphere, a land of joy and delight, a place that definitely exists, and has decided to poke in and upset my world of dust and rusted cans to make life worth while.

So every day I live in this life, but I’m constantly in search of gaps in reality through which goodness will break in and invade.

Searching for those invasions makes this life worth living.

Thanks for reading! -BW

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