Hilarious Jokes: Origin, Nationality, Hell, Paradise, God, Jesus, Satan, Pope, Ayatollah, Imam
A positive mantra, attitude and humor can be as good as life savers
By Ion Saliu, Humorist (Humourist, Umorist) At-Large (Fără-Restricţie)
Written by Ion Saliu on April 29, 2002 ... 2004 ... 2005 - and later....
Forever glorious be your name, O wise reader of my deeply light words, O distinguished guest of my serious laughs, For it proves that day and night smile during their apparently eternal joust!
OK. Before getting to the five killer-hilarious jokes, I want to remind you my fundamental mantra:
Self, I am the best who ever was, baby! Bar none, baby! Bar none!
The sickening-sick may tell you that the above statement is a form of narcissism. Ask them if they have ever been priests who touched children in a sensually compromising manner … Ask them if they were cultured enough to have read Boccacio's "Decameron"... Perhaps, the sensuous "Book of Love"... Don't you worry what the mummified suckers say. Just repeat the mantra often and you are assured of positive effects. It won't hurt, for sure. That mantra gave me the right attitude in tackling very difficult tasks. I have written some outstandingly unique computer programs. I repeated my mantra probably one hundred times.
The attitude is a formidable engine to success — or a killer obstacle. I survived a most deadly dangerous situation while driving a tractor. It was a frosty day in the autumn of 1988. I was a novice tractor driver, although I was a good apple picker. The tractor was sliding, with the engine off, towards what I thought was the hell (steep downhill). I survived in the last split of a second. This was the thought I was processing at that very last moment.
"You wanted to be the best who ever was. You ain't. Jump off while turning the tractor left. The trees will stop the tractor and its trailer (five apple bins) roll over you..."
I only had minor bruises. The most difficult part was for the company to lift the tractor and its trailer back to the normal position. No tree was killed, either. Tells you also that my mantra is environment-friendly!
I have lived for a few months in Michigan, USO, close to the USO-Canadian border. (USO stands for United States One. Possibly Europe will be United States Two. Perhaps Latin America will become United States Three. Most likely, the planet will become United World One & Only — UWOO.)
Driving was as tough as nails back then for me. I just drove to the closest convenient facility for lunch. A minor-league Canadien salesman would ask me: "Are you Canadian?"
That would be the closest-to-my-living-place question concerning my (linguistic) origin I've been asked. As close as 20 miles, no farther than 40. In 1993 I visited my native land of Romania. It was the only place where people might have thought I sounded like an American. That's how a policeman dealt with me. ”Mister, if you are an American, we can direct you to the American consulate...”
After a month in my native land, I returned to my adoptive land. I was thirsty. I entered a bar and asked for a cold beer (it was Indian summer in America!). An old guy jumped right in: "You are German! Was mach do? I served in WWII in France…"
A young guy (I liked the idea the youngster was the son of the elder) also jumped right in: "You are actually French! I've gone to France many times! Always go there…"
Curiously, the same day, at the grocery store I bought French-type bread (still American, not to mention poorly baked!) An old lady looked at the bread, and then asked me if it was French.
I answered "Partially…"
She replied: "Ah, you must be French…"
She, too, was a frequent visitor of France! ”Potcapdediou!”, they say in Gascogne, and I have no clue now what that means! Shamefully, I had to lie back then. I said I was born in Gascogne, a region with people similar to my native province of Romania (Oltenia — people would not back off from stressing more qualities than they have; d'Artagnan was your typical Gascon.)
Questions about origin mark our lives often. I was also asked if I was Spanish, Mexican, Russian, even Chinese! Perhaps an Italian, a Puerto Rican gathered. I must have been in a witness-protection program from Mafia, that's why I said I was of a different nationality!
The previous message (saliu.com/bbs/messages/3.html) made the question acute again. They asked me in my college years in Romania if I was Jewish. Others raised the question if I were Turkish. Romania was occupied by the Ottoman (Turkish) Empire for centuries. There are people of Turkish origin still living on a narrow strip of the Romanian seashore of the Black Sea. Saliu appears to be a common name in Turkish.
But it also appears to be a common Greek name (Saliou). I found that out after my return to the U.S.O. in 1993 (and after those questions of German-French origin!). I bought a CD with phone numbers in America. I thought I was the only Saliu in North America. The name sounds so rare! It was rare over there, too! To my surprise, I saw hundreds of Saliu (Turkish) and Saliou(Greek), especially living in the New York area! There are also Muslims living in... Africa who are named Saliu! Yet, fellow Americans still believe I'm Jewish, 'cuz I don't behave like a neo-Columbian Christian. Plus, I show that typical intellectual idiosyncrasy!
I think the best track to my origin can be found in Virgil's The Aeneid. Aeneas, the Trojan founder of Rome had a close associate-runner-from-defeat named Salius. It uses the Latinized name of an Arcadian name. Arcadia was the area where Troy once was proudly standing. Arcadia is now part of Turkey mostly. A tiny part is still Greek. It appears that all Saliu and Saliou come from Arcadia.
In my case, it followed Aeneas and Salius. They first founded Sicily and Southern Italy, before founding Rome. Rome occupied a large territory. In 109 WEB they occupied Dacia, largely the territory of present-time Romania. The Romans first built a bridge over the Danube river at Drobeta, near my birthplace.
The Romans conquered Dacia, then colonized the Danube region next to Drobeta. The customs in that area strikingly resemble anthropologically customs in Southern Italy, Sardinia, and Catalan. The godfather of my daughter, a Latin American who studied in Romania, traveled to Spain. When in Barcelona for the first time, he heard a group of Catalans talk. He asked with a Romanian bias: ”Mai, are you Romanians?”
That's how I believe my name came to life. On the other hand, I don't care a bit if the truth was different. I can't afford to pay to find out the truth. What's the difference, though? I will always be this individual and none other. ”The best that ever was, baby! Bar no one, baby!”
I had said this before I read Socrates express it thousands years ago. He said, emphatically:
I am a citizen of the World.
It must be that Almighty Number made the infinite a finite measure. It must be that Its Combinatorial Almighty deals with a finite number of possibilities, no matter how large it may be. The Combinatorics will bring to life many more Socrates, and Newton, and Einstein, and Whoever. Only better, probably. For Future always brings to the Table more Knowledge. Socrates had no clue what computer programming was about, but I do. And so do you.
In December of 1997 WEB I started this web site with the sentence:
• Now, the first joke.
Baby, there is one thing I miss my life under communism in Romania: THE JOKES. I have never, ever heard more hilarious jokes than back then. Especially the political jokes. I think their common theme was: created by Jews. They held some high political positions back then, including in the so-called ministry of culture and education. The joke-creators did not fear political reprisal, like the Solzhenitszyns of Communism. They were well protected by the Communist Jewish executors.
This joke came to my fearful ears from well-protected Communist Jews. It is one of my top-ten jokes of all time. All 50 jokes of all time in my book come from my life in Communist Romania. Jokes from American guys you see and hear on late-night TV are pathetic by comparison. They don't make people laugh, if there weren't for those cheerleaders and canned-laughter paid-animators.
This is what the top five wise Jews said.
Solomon, pointing to the head:
This is everything.
Jesus, pointing to the heart:
This is everything.
Marx, pointing to the belly:
This is everything.
Freud, pointing to the genitalia:
This is everything.
Einstein, pointing from bottom to top, then from top to bottom :
It's all relative ... but not God!
• The second joke,
a creation of the communist approved... underground! This probably was a favorite joke of the establishment. The "lower" subjects were not arrested for telling it in larger settings (that is, outside one's household). I heard this joke first from a professor who gave me the honor of having no choice but accept membership in the communist party.
The economics professor was the epitome of the intellectuals under Communism. You was to be intelligent and equally coward, Ion Blaga! (Hope you still alive today, 11th February 2006.) And Blaga was also the name of an inspired poet (Lucian) who was executed by the communists at the order of the Soviets. Poet Lucian Blaga still had all the cowardice credentials to escape execution. He told his communist torturers that he was a communist alright. But said he: I am first a Romanian, and then a Communist. ""Nyet", the Lenins replied. "Nye horosho", while pulling the trigger. What a poetically cruel joke life is for the most part!
I recalled this joke for its significance. There are situations when an individual would claim he/she is the opposite! Or, extremely, one would claim one doesn't even exist! You know, when I first entered lottery forums many were enthusiastic about the potential of human mind to unlock the secrets of randomness. Many claimed that random events could be predicted through scientific analysis. Then I entered the scene. Many others chose to exit, giving up to human pleasure of enjoying resentment. They go to extremes to prove they were wrong, in order to prove that my ideas are baseless! As in this joke about Lenin and God's self-denial.
Lenin headed directly to the paradise after he died. He thought he had done a lot of good for the oppressed to deserve retirement in the paradise. He knocked on Heaven's door:
"Knock, knock!"
God shouted from his cosmically gigantic and perfectly spherical office:
"Who's there?"
"Vladimir Ilyich Lenin."
"Okay, okay! The last one in be sure to close the door. It's kind of cold in here…"
God studied carefully Lenin's dossier and decided to send him to the most suitable place: the HELL.
A short time passed after Lenin's resettlement to Hell. Satan stormed into god's office one day.
"Almighty, pray ear my complaint! The hell is no longer functional. Lenin and his party nationalized the boilers, the furnaces…the whole hell. Sinners and devils spend time in interminable party meetings. In whatever time is left, they all gather in a huge choir. Women are always in front, men in the back rows. Everything must be absolutely politically correct. They rehearse La Internationale and other revolutionary songs, every day and every night. The electricity bill alone, Almighty God, will bankrupt You. Right now, Your Law is not observed: Nobody suffers, nobody is tortured. Pray, Almighty, take Lenin back to Paradise!"
Lenin was sent back to the paradise.
A short time passed after Lenin's transfer to Paradise. Satan stormed into God's office one day.
"God Almighty, pray ear my complaint! The hell is no longer functional. The sinners and devils want Lenin back. The sinners and devils together declared a general strike. They threaten with revolution. Pray, God, deport Lenin to Hell!"
"Listen up, comrade Satan! First of all, god does not exist…"
• The third joke:
by search and by request. It appears that a lot of Internet searches related to nationality jokes lead to this very page. There are also specific searches related to the nationalities I write about here; e.g. Italian jokes, Turkish jokes, or even Columbian jokes. Some asked me to dedicate one section of this web site to jokes, somehow a special category "world jokes". Kind like a Web version of the Seinfeld sitcom. That would be great, because every nation in the world has hilarious cultural and political jokes.
The language is the big obstacle. In most cases, the humor gets lost in the translation. I think I know it first-hand. I can handle five languages, more or less — yet my humour is one-pointed. Ion Luca Caragiale ("A Lost Letter") once said: "You were born once to be a humorist". That's the reason why Mark Twain declined honorary citizenship of Britain or Australia. I made two conscious exclusions when I decided to become a refugee. One, become the President; two, stay the course of humor.
So, for now, just this joke on the subject of flagrante delicto. How do various nationalities react in cases of flagrante delicto, specifically when the husband catches his wife in bed with another man?
The Soviet reaction
Ivan has one too many vodkas. His way back home became longer. Once at home, Ivan finds Natasha, his wife, in bed with his own boss. Natasha treats Ivan in the most politically correct manner. "Ivan, you are late and drunk — again. Your comrade boss here and I had to start the party meeting without you. Tomorrow you'll be censured for absenteeism…"
The German reaction
Johan returns from work somehow earlier. He finds Liese, his wife, in flagrante delicto. Liese points to her Swiss watch while teaching Johan a lesson in discipline. "Hans, you come back from work at 5 o'clock precisely. It's 5 to 5..."
The French connection
Jean stops by his favorite bistro. Today his favorite red wine tastes better than ever. He drinks it faster. When Jean gets home, he finds Giselle, his wife, in bed with another man. Giselle couldn't be happier! "Jean, I am so glad you came back earlier. Threesome will be so much more fun..."
The American reaction, the bible belt version
John returns home from a prayer breakfast. He catches his wife in flagrante delicto. "What's gonna be next, honey? Start smoking?"
The Jewish reaction
Yitzhak unexpectedly returns home from a business trip. He finds Rachel, his wife, in bed with another man. A perplexed Rachel asks him: "Who are you?" "It's Yitzhak, stupid!" "Wait a minute! If you are Yitzhak — who the hell is this one?"
The Muslim (Over) reaction
Fatimah returns home from her daily slave work for her Mother-in-law. She finds her husband, Ali, in flagrante delicto with himself. Ali is strapped in a suicide bomb. “O, Fatimah!” chants Ali ecstatically. “You just caught a free ride to heaven, to parad
• The fourth joke:
It is political and was inspired by the new frenzy of activism typical to social media, Facebook especially. Again, it was a very popular joke in Communist Romania. I can't use penis as in original… as it impossible to imitate Ceausescu's pronunciation of many words in the Romanian language. But even the “scientific” pronunciation of the male member has its punch! The joke was about a meeting in the 1960s between Nixon, Brezhnev, De Gaulle, Ceausescu. They were planning a big party to celebrate the détente.
Nixon: “I'm gonna bring American cigarettes.”
Brezhnev: “I'm gonna bring Russian vodka.”
De Gaulle: “I'm gonna bring French women.”
Ceausescu: “And who's gonna bring the penises?”
• The fifth joke:
I created a religious joke on Valentine's Day, 14th February 2006. Enjoy it, O colossal sinner of exquisite tastes!
Good question: What is the culmination of romantic love?
One: The Pope falling for Madonna.
Two: The Imam listening to Madonna's "Papa, don't preach" during the Ramadan.
Doctor in Occult Science of Philosophical Art of Humor
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