I’ve narrowed my focus for today’s humor post. There are a few choice thoughts on the nuances of our “G”-centered culture that I’d like to share with you. Not sure what I’m talking about? Then surely you haven’t been outside in the last 20 years. The baggy jeans which now encircle the man at some point just above the knees are a far cry from the trousers that used to be synonymous with manhood. The knickers of olden days have now been replaced by these “sliders” in the process of making their way down to the ankles. The half-section of leg once covered by clothing has been reversed. And oh, to watch those boys try to hitch their riders up enough to cross the street in a semi-hurry!
Speaking of hurry–though it pervades the work-day world, the external pace of our lives–it sure seems to be absent in the work of accelerating these pants-impaired youths on their journeys to maturity and across a busy intersection alike. If only someone would teach them just how to use their belt…World change would commence. You see, life and its concerns revolve around the little things.
Take the name that is given to the best of these gangsters. It has to be my favorite part of this slightly upside-down culture:
The term “G” is used to designate a person skilled in representing the gangsta persona. I often make the mistake of attempting to use proper pronunciation of the root word gangster and boy, do I hear about it! I guess that’s because the original Italian gangster– who was schooled in organized crime–and today’s teen “sons” (or distant cousins) of the hood–who mainly seek the aura–should not be confused.
Anyway, I find it interesting that in days past, if we happened to see a letter like G found alone, we would immediately assume that it was missing something or that it was being used to teach someone their ABCs. Now, this character holds the meaning of all things. For someone to be the embodiment of a G, he couldn’t ask for more. Especially since being a G is the one quality which instantly assures you infinite recognition and eternal honors. Wow! If you have received this title, treasure the day your life took a leap toward immortal genius, exceptional prowess and incredible humanness. You are a lucky beast!
Okay, enough of my pot-shooting. This post is proof to me that humor has great power to abuse. When I try to be funny, or just share what I find funny, I immediately present a bias. Upon further consideration, I imagine that everything I say has this effect, but humor seems to have an extra punch. I have a tendency to put people down with sudden out-bursts of sharpened whit. Others have noticed it recently and have been surprised that it should come from one who is often so quiet in group discussions–one who also has a reputation as someone “sweet.”
This contradiction reminds me of the verse that says about sweet water and bitter water not flowing from the same spring. (“Does a spring send forth fresh water and bitter from the same opening?” James 3:11) I feel caught by these words. They challenge me and humble me. They remind me that my desire to have fun is not always pure, even if I do not detect that until after the damage is done. It shows me that purity is about more than damming up the waters before they can pass the gates of my lips, but about seeking to find their source and appeal to God to cleanse their source.
It is about recognizing that more than anyone else, I am the one who overthrows the calibration of the universe as God first intended it. I am the reason that things are a mess. Albeit not the entire reason, but certainly a big enough part that I need not occupy myself solely with looking outward and monitoring the mistakes of others. I need to ask God to give me eyes to see the errors in myself that He wants to work on. Errors that I am powerless to eliminate without His spirit because they rule me far more than I rule them. This all gives me a chance to see myself in proper perspective and groan for the love God has for people to be implanted within me.