Humor was another of the soul's weapons in the fight for self-preservation.
On one level, I am a total softie, sort of depressed and afraid of losing the people I love or failing them. To disguise that, there's all this harsh, poop-centric, external swagger, full of nastiness. I'm a cloaking device.
I'm very emotional. That's why I wear shades a lot.
Shedding the carapace we have been building so assiduously on the surface, we must by definition give up exactly what we thought was necessary to protect us from further harm.
Sometimes the funnier you are, the more vulnerable and scared you are underneath it all. So I think, for me, comedy was always a defense. It was a weapon so that you can't hurt me.
Like everyone in high school, like everyone in life, we all have this outer layer we put up to protect ourselves.
We all create stories to protect ourselves.
Soldiers are issued armour for their flesh and bones, but they must fashion their own for their souls. Piece by piece.
So long as man is protected by madness - he functions - and flourishes.
Occupation is the armor of the soul.
I used humor as survival, as a weapon and as comfort.
Obvious enough that generalities work to protect the mind from the great outdoors; is it possible that this was in fact their first purpose?
