Humor – KensView

Hell of a Perspective

Pik Botha, Margaret Thatcher, and Richard Nixon die and meet later in Hell. They notice a red phone and ask what the phone is for.

The Devil tells them it is for calling back to Earth.

Botha asks to call South Africa and talks for five minutes. When he is finished, the Devil informs him that the cost is 18 million rand ($1 million), so Botha pulls out a little bag and pays him the equivalent in diamonds.

Next Thatcher calls England and talks for 30 minutes. When she is finished, the Devil informs her that the cost is six million pounds, so she writes him a check.

Finally, Nixon gets his turn and talks for four hours. When he is finished, the Devil informs him that the cost is five dollars, so Nixon hands him a fiver.

When Botha sees this, he goes ballistic and asks the Devil why Nixon got to call the USA so cheaply.

The Devil smiles and replies: “Since Trump took over, the whole country’s gone to Hell, so it’s a local call.”

How Far Can Satire Go?

How far can satire stretch its wings,
Before it falls and bruises things?
A laugh, a jibe, a pointed word
At truths unspoken, seldom heard.
It dances close to edges, bold,
Where wounds are raw, and hearts unfold,
Mocking kings and shaking crowns,
Making bigots and snobs grow deep frowns.
But how far can it walk the line,
Between the joke and a darker sign?
Can humor cure or only wound
While exposing lies we’ve all subsumed?
In satire’s grasp, the world may bend,
It speaks of truths that may offend.
Yet in that crack, does it reveal,
A love that heals or hurts that reel?
It wades through waters deep and wide,
Where wit may go against the tide.
How far, then, can this art, this blade,
Carve the space where truths are laid?
Satire questions letting things slide,
But is there a point where we divide?
When does it cease to jest and play,
And leave us lost in shades of gray?
Perhaps the answer lies within,
The balance of the thick and thin.
How far should satire truly go?
Just far enough to make us know.