Read all jokes from: Science (+105)
‘Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual
Yuletide celebration, and throughout our place of residence, kinetic
activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this potential,
including that species of domestic rodent known as Mus musculus.
Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the wood
burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure
regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist
among
whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St. Nicholas.
The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective
accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconcious visual
hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically
through their cerebrums.
My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal had coverings,
were
about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon
the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a
cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity
from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise
source thereof.
Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing
this
fenestration, nothing thereupon that the lunar brilliance without,
reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline
precipitation, might be said rival that of the solar meridian itself -
thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a
miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight diminutive
specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a miniscule, aged
chauffeur
so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly
apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller.
With his ungulate motive power travelling at what may possibly have
been
more vertignious velocity than patriotic alar predators, he
vociferated
loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and
addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen – “Now
Dasher, now Dancer…” et al. – guiding them to the uppermost level of
our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the
concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal
extremities.
As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was
performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved -
with utmost celerity and via a downward leap – entry by wary of the
smoke passage.
He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony residue from
oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls
thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to
the
plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodius
cloth receptacle.
His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his
submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging
amiability. The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal
appurtenance
were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the
former approximating the coloration of Albion’s floral emblem, the
latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry.
His amusing sub and supralabials resembled nothing so much as a common
loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment appeared like
small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water. Clenched firmly
between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey fumes forming a
tenuous elllipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative
seasonal circlet of holly.
His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly
mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of
impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container. He was, in
short, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund, multigenarian
gnome,
the optical perception of whom rendered me visibly frolicsome despite
every effort to refrain from so being.
By rapidly lowering and than elevating one eyelid and rotating his
head
slightly to one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was
groundless.
Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the
aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned
articles of merchandise extracted from the aforementioned previously
dorsally transported cloth receptacle.
Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt aboutface,
placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory
organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and
forthwith effected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke
passage.
He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance,
directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral
sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar
aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing
portions of a common weed.
But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to
his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility: “Ecstatic Yuletide
to
the planetary constituency, and to that self same assemblage, my
sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly
pleasurable period between sunset and dawn.
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Read all jokes from: Science (+105)
Civilization…
Simply send 6 x 10^50 atoms of hydrogen to the star system
at the top of the list, cross off that star system, then put your
star system at the bottom of the list and send it to 100 other
star systems. Within one-tenth of a galactic rotation you will
receive enough hydrogen to power your civilization until entropy
reaches its maximum! IT REALLY WORKS!
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Read all jokes from: Marriage (+787), Science (+105)
Scientists have discovered a food that diminishes a women’s sex drive by 90 percent… Wedding cake!!!
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Read all jokes from: Science (+105)
As a result of an overwhelming lack of requests, and with research help from
that renown scientific journal SPY magazine (January, 1990) – I am pleased to
present the annual scientific inquiry into Santa Claus.
1) No known species of reindeer can fly. BUT there are 300,000 species of
living organisms yet to be classified, and while most of these are insects
and germs, this does not COMPLETELY rule out flying reindeer which only Santa
has ever seen.
2) There are 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world.
BUT since Santa doesn’t (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and
Buddhist cihldren, that reduces the workload to to 15% of the total – 378
million according to Population Reference Bureau. At an average (census)
rate of 3.5 children per household, that’s 91.8 million homes. One presumes
there’s at least one good child in each.
3) Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different
time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west
(which seemes logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second.
This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa
has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the
chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the
tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back
into the sleigh and move on to the next house. Assuming that each of these
91.8 million stops are evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course,
we know to be false but for the purposes of our calculations we will accept),
we are now talking about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75-1/2
million miles, not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once
every 31 hours, plus feeding etc.
This means that Santa’s sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second, 3,000
times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man-made
vehicle on earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per
second – a conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.
4) The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming
that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized lego set (2 pounds),
the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariably
described as overweight. On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more
than 300 pounds. Even granting that “flying reindeer” (see point #1) could
pull TEN TIMES the normal anount, we cannot do the job with eight, or even
nine. We need 214,200 reindeer. This increases the payload – not even
counting the weight of the sleigh – to 353,430 tons. Again, for
comparison – this is four times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth.
5) 353,000 tons travelling at 650 miles per second creates enourmous air
resistance – this will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as
spacecrafts re-entering the earth’s atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer
will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION joules of energy. Per second. Each. In short,
they will burst into flame almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer
behind them, and create deafening sonic booms in their wake.
The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a
second. Santa, meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06
times greater than gravity. A 250-pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim)
would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force.
In conclusion – If Santa ever DID deliver presents on Christmas Eve, he’s
dead now.
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Read all jokes from: Science (+105)
For Readers in their 23rd Year of Schooling
‘Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the
annual yuletide celebration, and throughout our place of residence,
kinetic activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this
potential, including that species of domestic rodent known as Mus
musculus. Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of
the wood-burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory
pleasure regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric
philanthropist among whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title
of St. Nicholas.
The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their
respective accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious
visual hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving
rhythmically through their cerebra. My conjugal partner and I, attired
in our nocturnal cranial coverings, were about to take slumbrous
advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon the avenaceous exterior
portion of the grounds there ascended such a cacophony of dissonance
that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity from my place of repose for
the purpose of ascertaining the precise source thereof.
Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing
the fenestration, noting thereupon that the lunar brilliance without,
reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline
aqueous precipitation, might be said to rival that of the solar meridian
itself — thus permitting my incredulous optical sensor to peruse a
miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by an octet of
diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a miniscule,
aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly apparent
to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller. With his
undulate motive power traveling at what may possibly have been more
vertiginous velocity than patriotic alar predators, he vociferated
loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and
addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen …
“Now Dasher, now Dancer…” et al. — guiding them to the uppermost
exterior level of our abode, through which structure I could
readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal
extremities.
As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was
performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved
– with utmost celerity and via a downward leap — entry by way of the
smoke passage. He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebon
residue from the oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated
on the walls thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed
largely to the plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in
a commodious cloth receptacle.
His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his
submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging
amiability. The capillaries of his molar regions and nasal aptenance
were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the
former approximating the coloration of Albion’s floral emblem, the
latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry. His amusing sub- and
supralabials resembled nothing so much as a common loop knot, and their
ambient hirsuite facial adornment appeared like small, tabular and
columnar crystals of frozen water.
Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smokingpiece whose gray
fumes, forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a
decorative seasonal circlet of holly. His visage was wider than it was
high, and when he waxed audibly mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region
undulated in the manner of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical
container.
Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the
aforementioned hosiery with articles of merchandise extracted from his
aforementioned previously dorsally transported cloth receptacle. Upon
completion of this task, he executed an abrupt about-face, placed a
single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ,
inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and forthwith
affected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke passage. He
then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance, directed a
musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral sphincter to the
antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a movement
hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing portions of a common
weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately
prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility: “Ecstatic
yuletides to the planetary constituence, and to that self-same
assemblage my sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and
gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and dawn.”
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Read all jokes from: Science (+105)
Let’s face it — English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant
nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins
weren’t invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are
candies while sweetbreads, which aren’t sweet, are meat.
We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that
quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is
neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t
groce and hammers don’t ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the
plural of booth beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index,
2 indices?
Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend, that you
comb through annals of history but not a single annal? If you have a bunch
of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn’t preacher praught? If a vegetarian eats
vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? If you wrote a letter, perhaps
you bote your tongue?
Sometimes I think all the English speakers should be committed to an asylum
for the verbally insane. In what language do people recite at a play and
play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that
run and feet that smell? Park on driveways and drive on parkways?
How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and
wise guy are opposites? How can overlook and oversee be opposites, while
quite a lot and quite a few are alike? How can the weather be hot as hell
one day and cold as hell another.
Have you noticed that we talk about certain things only when they are
absent? Have you ever seen a horseful carriage or a strapful gown? Met a
sung hero or experienced requited love? Have you ever run into someone who
was combobulated, gruntled, ruly or peccable? And where are all those
people who ARE spring chickens or who would ACTUALLY hurt a fly?
You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house
can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out
and in which an alarm clock goes off by going on.
English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the
creativity of the human race (which, of course, isn’t a race at all). That
is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are
out, they are invisible. And why, when I wind up my watch, I start it, but
when I wind up this essay, I end it.
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Read all jokes from: Science (+105)
If for every rule there is an exception, then we have established that
there is an exception to every rule.
If we accept “For every rule there is an exception” as a rule, then we
must concede that there may not be an exception after all, since the rule
states that there is always the possibility of exception, and if we follow
it to its logical end we must agree that there can be an exception to
the rule that for every rule there is an exception.
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Read all jokes from: Science (+105)
Review: The Cat in the Hat
by Dr. Seuss, 61 pages. Beginner Books, $3.95
The Cat in the Hat is a hard-hitting novel of prose and poetry
in which the author re-examines the dynamic rhyming schemes and
bold imagery of some of his earlier works, most notably Green
Eggs and Ham, If I Ran the Zoo, and Why Can’t I Shower With
Mommy? In this novel, Theodore Geisel, writing under the
pseudonym Dr. Seuss, pays homage to the great Dr. Sigmund Freud
in a nightmarish fantasy of a renegade feline helping two young
children understand their own frustrated sexuality.
The story opens with two youngsters, a brother and a sister,
abandoned by their mother, staring mournfully through the
window of their single-family dwelling. In the foreground, a
large tree/phallic symbol dances wildly in the wind, taunting
the children and encouraging them to succumb to the sexual
yearnings they undoubtedly feel for each other. Even to the
most unlearned reader, the blatant references to the
incestuous relationship the two share set the tone for Seuss’s
probing examination of the satisfaction of primitive needs.
The Cat proceeds to charm the wary youths into engaging in
what he so innocently refers to as “tricks.” At this point,
the fish, an obvious Christ figure who represents the
prevailing Christian morality, attempts to warn the children,
and thus, in effect, warns all of humanity of the dangers
associated with the unleashing of the primal urges. In
response to this, the cat proceeds to balance the aquatic
naysayer on the end of his umbrella, essentially saying,
“Down with morality; down with God!”
After poohpoohing the righteous rantings of the waterlogged
Christ figure, the Cat begins to juggle several icons of
Western culture, most notably two books, representing the Old
and New Testaments, and a saucer of lactal fluid, an ironic
reference to maternal loss the two children experienced when
their mother abandoned them “for the afternoon.” Our heroic
Id adds to this bold gesture a rake and a toy man, and thus
completes the Oedipal triangle.
Later in the novel, Seuss introduces the proverbial Pandora’s
box, a large red crate out of which the Id releases Thing One,
or Freud’s concept of Ego, the division of the psyche that
serves as the conscious mediator between the person and
reality, and Thing Two, the Superego which functions to reward
and punish through a system of moral attitudes, conscience,
and guilt. Referring to this box, the Cat says, “Now look at
this trick. Take a look!” In this, Dr. Seuss uses the
children as a brilliant metaphor for the reader, and asks the
reader to re-examine his own inner self.
The children, unable to control the Id, Ego, and Superego
allow these creatures to run free and mess up the house, or
more symbolically, control their lives. This rampage
continues until the fish, or Christ symbol, warns that the
mother is returning to reinstate the Oedipal triangle that
existed before her abandonment of the children. At this
point, Seuss introduces a many-armed cleaning device which
represents the psychoanalytic couch, which proceeds to put
the two youngsters’ lives back in order.
With powerful simplicity, clarity, and drama, Seuss reduces
Freud’s concepts on the dynamics of the human psyche to an
easily understood gesture. Mr. Seuss’ poetry and choice of
words is equally impressive and serves as a splendid
counterpart to his bold symbolism. In all, his writing style
is quick and fluid, making The Cat in the Hat impossible to
put down. While this novel is 61 pages in length, and one
can read it in five minutes or less, it is not until after
multiple readings that the genius of this modern day master
becomes apparent.
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Read all jokes from: Science (+105)
‘Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual
Yuletide celebration, and throughout our place of residence, kinetic
activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this potential,
including that species of domestic rodent known as Mus musculus.
Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the wood
burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure
regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist
among
whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St. Nicholas.
The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective
accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconcious visual
hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically
through their cerebrums.
My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal had coverings,
were
about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon
the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a
cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity
from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise
source thereof.
Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing
this
fenestration, nothing thereupon that the lunar brilliance without,
reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline
precipitation, might be said rival that of the solar meridian itself -
thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a
miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight diminutive
specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a miniscule, aged
chauffeur
so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly
apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller.
With his ungulate motive power travelling at what may possibly have
been
more vertignious velocity than patriotic alar predators, he
vociferated
loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and
addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen – “Now
Dasher, now Dancer…” et al. – guiding them to the uppermost level of
our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the
concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal
extremities.
As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was
performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved -
with utmost celerity and via a downward leap – entry by wary of the
smoke passage.
He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony residue from
oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls
thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to
the
plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodius
cloth receptacle.
His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his
submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging
amiability. The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal
appurtenance
were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the
former approximating the coloration of Albion’s floral emblem, the
latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry.
His amusing sub and supralabials resembled nothing so much as a common
loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment appeared like
small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water. Clenched firmly
between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey fumes forming a
tenuous elllipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative
seasonal circlet of holly.
His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly
mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of
impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container. He was, in
short, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund, multigenarian
gnome,
the optical perception of whom rendered me visibly frolicsome despite
every effort to refrain from so being.
By rapidly lowering and than elevating one eyelid and rotating his
head
slightly to one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was
groundless.
Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the
aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned
articles of merchandise extracted from the aforementioned previously
dorsally transported cloth receptacle.
Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt aboutface,
placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory
organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and
forthwith effected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke
passage.
He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance,
directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral
sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar
aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing
portions of a common weed.
But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to
his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility: “Ecstatic Yuletide
to
the planetary constituency, and to that self same assemblage, my
sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly
pleasurable period between sunset and dawn.
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Read all jokes from: Science (+105)
Handy guide to modern science:
If it’s green or wriggles, it’s biology.
If it stinks, it’s chemistry.
If it doesn’t work, it’s physics.
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