The Breakfast Club

Posted on 07 Dec 2012 @ 5:26am by Warrant Officer Evan Kell
Edited on on 07 Dec 2012 @ 10:34am

2,131 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Episode 02 - Resupply
Location: USS Galileo - Mess Hall
Timeline: MD 14 0700

ON:

Jeremy set down with the tray in front of him. He glanced at the Capellan only briefly before stating: "Since our last meeting, I have made seventy-two attempts to find something humorous. Trying both to be humorous and to be humored. All attempts have been unsuccessful. Explain the criteria for humor and what is humorous."

He stabbed his fork into a mash of something on his tray, as if it were the fault of breakfast that he was not humored.

Kell looked up at the security chief as he sat down and tilted his head thoughtfully. As a Capellan, Kell found the concept of humor an intriguing one. It took him many years on Earth even raised as a human before he could understand it, especially since the necessary requirements of humor often prompted suddenness.

"Hm," he offered, frowning at his PADD. ('On an exceptionally hot evening early in July a young man came out of the garret in which he lodged in S. Place and walked slowly, as though in hesitation, towards K. bridge....')

He set the PADD aside, turning the question over in his noggin.

"I think humor's about... wit," Kell decided on contemplatively. "An intuitive practice of intelligence. Such as: jokes, sarcasm, irony. Recognizing disparate situations: novelty. It's like: what's your favorite food. It's unique." He trilled his fingers together against one another. "Mm. You're human, so laughter is neurological. When was the last time you laughed?" Kell asked, curiously.

Jeremy frowned hard as he stabbed his tray again. "I don't remember. I tried for two hours last night trying to remember the last time I laughed. I couldn't. I know there was....sometime....before. When I was...somebody else. But laughter is a function of humor, isn't it?"

He jabbed the tray again, apparently wanting to make sure it was good and dead before he ate it. Whatever 'it' was. Why didn't they label this stuff so he would know if he liked it?

"Yeah," Kell said. "So, you know you have found things funny," he pointed out. "You know what dissociation is?"

""I'm well acquainted with dissociation. In myriad forms." Stab. Stab. Stab.

Kell nodded. "Mm. Sounds like that," he mused pensively. "Dissociating from the emotional feeling of humor. Doesn't mean it isn't there."

"I want people to stop telling me I do not have a sense of humor. I tried telling jokes and nobody laughed. In fact, they got upset over what I said. I want you to explain to me what humor is, in criteria I can employ, to have a sense of humor."

"Depends," Kell said. "It's frustrating. Everyone's got a different definition. Humor's personal, since it's an intuitive emotional outlet for your experiences," he tried to summarize succinctly. "Which is why you recognize the lack, it's connective. What jokes did you tell?" he asked, tapping the PADD on the table forward to the next page and taking a drink of his tea.

"I will give you an example." He pulled out his PADD and looked at the screen. "Three men walk into a bar. Ouch. Should have ducked instead."

He looked up for reaction. Kell winced a little, but smiled. "Yeah, that's... an old one," he concluded wryly. "Cliche," he explained. "Most humor stops being funny the more it's repeated. Unless you count the running joke, which is ironically funny," he excepted.

Frowning he continued. "Then, in a conversation with my assistant, I told him I would conduct employee reviews during their on duty hours since I would not pay them overtime for it. He scowled at me. But isn't that the irony you talk about? We are not only security officers, but members of Starfleet. We are on a salary system therefore do not get overtime. Our pay remains the same no matter how many hours we work. "

Stab. Scoop. Drop. Stab. "What other criteria must I combine with irony in order to make something humorous?"

"That wasn't that bad," Kell said with a shrug. "Sometimes, people just don't get the joke. There's understanding humor, then there's people understanding you. Wit," he said again. "Doesn't mean you aren't funny if they don't get it." He brought up his own PADD and saved his page, thumbing through various archives before he found what he was looking for. He slid it across the table. It was an archive of 21st century to 23rd century stand-up comedy by various species. "Instead of studying written jokes, watch these. Note: when the audience laughs, why, delivery, if you found it funny."

Jeremy frowned. "I spent 4.8 hours last night watching various comedians of various species. They engaged in a rambling diatribe of loosely connected, irrational and highly improbable streams of thought that made very little sense. Why, for instance, is it 'humorous' for a Klingon warrior to be afraid that his wife will expand in weight after marriage? Or the beating of children by parental authorities funny? Not only is it a crime, it is a horrible crime. I attempted to watch 'popular clips' from various current holovids and found very little different there. Yet the audience viewing the formation of the holovid seemed quite humored by the antics displayed. I do not understand this."

He pushed the PADD back, not wishing to waste any more time on something that had already failed.

"Mm," Kell took the PADD back and switched it once again to Crime and Punishment.

('"What do you think?" shouted Razumikhin, louder than ever, "you think I am attacking them for talking nonsense? Not a bit! I like them to talk nonsense. That's man's one privilege over all creation."')

"The Klingon one's funny because it's a silly thing to be afraid of, if he's a warrior," Kell explained the one he actually got. "The child one, depends on the person. Depends how it's approached." He flipped another page. "For instance Russel Peters talks about it in his routine from the 21st century," Kell started. "Using an example of children calling child protective services on their parents. His intent's for other victims of child abuse to empathize," the Capellan said. "By using humor, it makes the situation less upsetting. Lets him and his audience deal without getting stressed."

Jeremy flicked the screen on his PADD. "Child protective services: a regulatory division of a Terran governmental system designed to oversee the welfare and nuturing of children, especially from harm and neglect. How is it funny to invoke the spectre of a governmental department charged with the task of preventing something as horrible as child abuse. In what way can abusing a child be considered funny? Or, for that matter, invoking a governmental agency. People do not find it humorous when I show up in my role as a security officer. Quite the opposite in fact."

"Mm," Kell agreed with a nod. "The 'punchline' isn't abuse, or calling CPS. The 'punchline' is about growing up under abuse, and recognizing the behaviors of an abusive parent, rather than laughing at abuse. It's laughing at the parents, in mockery. See, talking about that openly, stresses people out," he explained. "The intent was to create a humorous atmosphere. Intuition," he repeated. "It isn't as tense. By sharing in the humor, it's how they connect, by commiseration. Same as 'military humor', even though war's terrible."

Jeremy stared at his tray as he mumbled. "I have suffered horrible abuse. For years, I was tortured and nearly killed several times. Then came back and had Starfleet become nearly as abusive in their efforts to get rid of me. Does that mean I am an object of humor rather than ridicule for what I have become because of my experiences? Are people using me as a punchline rather than as the joke?" He set his fork down and waited for the answer to that question. It was not something he ever contemplated. That instead of people despising and mocking him because of what happened, they found him humorous in a way he did not yet understand.

"No," Kell said gently. "That's the thing about commiseration. You can't commiserate unless you've been through it. The only way that joke works is the comedian knows what it's like," Kell continued. "If someone who hasn't been tortured joked about it, it would be offensive. They don't have the experience, it's a mockery. Even then, I could joke about it, and it might upset you, even though I've been through it. Timing, perception, individuality," Kell added on. "In my example, a better analogy is that he was making fun of your abusers, not you. If people are ridiculing you..." Kell's eyes narrowed a little.

"It is a fact of my existence."

"Well, that's not very acceptable," Kell observed reasonably.

Jeremy shrugged as if to say sun is warm, grass is green, rain is wet. He did try to get used to it with each new posting. "I hav a strong desire to perform my job satisfactorily with an emphasis on rationality and objectivism, which seems to often conflict with people's desire to absolve themselves of responsibility for their actions. Unfortunately actions from yesterday have accelerated this process in that I was, unfortunately, involved in negative encounters with two people very popular with the crew."

"Mm," Kell said. He'd heard about that one. It'd happened in the mess, after all.

Jeremy's fork resumed stabbing at the tray to the same rhythm of his bouncing leg. "But that is irrelevant. I find nothing humorous about what the Cardassians did. How am I able joke about something so...painful?"

"You might not." Kell took a drink of his tea. "It's all how you personally deal. There's no right way," he quoted his old psychiatrist with a roll of his eyes. "Some people can't face their pain, so they laugh it off. If they think it's funny, they won't need to deal with their issues."

The rhythm increased. "I am told that doing just that is...unhealthy. That it only prolongs the suffering and pain and the person should...deal...with the issue rather than avoid it. Is humor then a symptom of an unhealthy pathology? Am I better for not having it?" The last was said about as hopeful as he could get. He would proudly wear the badge of not having a sense of humor if it meant that he had found, in some way, a bit of recovery. Though, he suspected his former life he was quite unhealthy because he had flashes that reminded him of a bright, happy guy that people liked.

"Humor can be unhealthy," Kell said. "Anything in excess is pathological. Dealing with your issues directly is a symptom of health," he confirmed. "But humor's not always avoidant. It's also enjoyment. Fun, connecting to people. How you mesh with others, how much of that you want." Kell's eyes scanned his PADD as he thought. "A person's interpersonal status is directly proportional to how they manage the intuitive atmosphere, too. Funnier people are more well-liked."

Jeremy sighed as he set the fork onto the tray and pushed it away from him. It didn't stop the bouncing of his leg. He folded his hands together and in front of his face. "Then I must continue working on resigning myself to the knowledge that at least I am able to bring humor to others through their vocal dislike of me. At least that is something."

"If it's any consolation, I like you." Kell's reply was simple enough.

Jeremy started to get up then frowned and pulled out his PADD. "Thank you for your enlightening instruction in helping me to come to terms with this problem," he read off as if he wrote it hours ago.

"Anytime."

"I need to...." Jeremy said as he stared at the tray still on the table. He knew other people would have a ready thing to say at this point, something maybe untruthful but comforting to the other person. A lie. His shoulders slumped as he mumbled. "I need to leave now because this conversation has bothered me greatly."

"Alright," Kell said with a nod. ('"Brother, brother, what are you saying? Why, you have shed blood?" cried Dunya in despair. "Which all men shed," he put in almost frantically, "which flows and has always flowed in streams, which is spilt like champagne, and for which men are crowned in the Capitol and are called afterwards benefactors of mankind... If I had succeeded I should have been crowned with glory, but now I'm trapped."') "Talk to you later," the Capellan offered with a little wave.

OFF:

Jeremy Stone
Evan Kell

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