“Humor” Articles

If anyone could engage in brainwashing, it’s the God of the universe, and he doesn’t. Which probably tells you . . . something.

By the late eighties, though, the American right had discovered political correctness, and—well—that crowd has never met a phrase it couldn’t turn into an insult.

Giant, poofy white hair—something those of us alive today all associate with grandmas—somehow, for nearly a dozen generations, became a symbol of male power and virility. How did this happen?

If quicksand is really so dull, though, how did it become such a popular trope in cinema? And how did it disappear just as quickly?

Wait! Conspiracies happen all the time! Why are people so down on conspiracy theories these days?

Of course, as overblown as much of the Y2K panic was, the it-was-all-a-big-hoax assessment wasn’t really accurate either.

When you factor in the higher costs, the uncomfortable glasses, and the headaches, it was probably only a matter of time before the novelty wore off.

Under the extreme stress of plagues and environmental disaster, people were undoubtedly looking for someone to blame, which—hmm, that sounds familiar.

By the late sixties, “chemicals” were no longer magical things that were going to solve all of our problems; they were dangerous things that were going to kill us all, and MSG was no exception.

The Story of Fire Saga shows us how to mature past win-lose games into a form of infinite play that values process and relationships over victory.

It was the 1920s, and it felt like humanity could do anything—and it took the opportunity to do really stupid stuff, like pass off urinals as art, chase after nascent fascism, and—yes—sit around on flagpoles for days at a time.

Erin and Hannah host Luke T. Harrington to discuss the importance of humor and how our faith can actually be strengthened when we learn to take ourselves—and life—a little less seriously.

Joking aside, though, I’m sure you’re wondering—do violent videogames cause violence? The answer, according to science, is “Well, mayb…no. Prolly not.”

For Kate (age ten) and Maggie (age fourteen), the whole thing started as a harmless prank, but evolved into a movement of millions trying to talk to the dead.

So-called cephalomania first took off in France, where it suddenly became fashionable to host octopus- and squid-themed parties, and for a few years, squid-shaped hats were considered to be the height of fashion among French women.

This is a story of getting burned out on comedy and learning to love it again with an enjoyment story that comes through accepting limits.