You're right of course, Doktor.
I guess what I mean is that we've moved with the times.
The Principia had fnords, turkeys and hotdogs without buns. Maybe that fit the 60s. I'm sure I used to find the old jokes funny even back in the 2000s.
But the temperature has risen. It's getting feverish on old planet Earth. We're still laughing. We'll never STOP laughing. If laughter is infectious we're fucking typhoid, laughing so damn much that blood runs from our manic grins and the world laughs along with us.
Even if they don't get the joke.
Jokes are like cocaine. When you're first snorting the shit, you can get the joke if you do a single line of something that's been stepped on more times than Rosanne Boyland.
But you get acclimatized, and YOUR NEED IS MOAR. You need MOAR horrormirth and you DON'T ask WHO IS DRIVING CAR, because YOU ALREADY KNOW WHO IS DRIVING CAR. HIMEOMBS HAS *ALWAYS* BEEN DRIVING CAR. We just didn't notice it before, because the power stayed on and nobody paid any attention to freaks like Nigel Farage and Marjorie Taylor Greene. Which was, in hindsight, probably a mistake.
Pretty soon you're strung out like Johnny Cash, trying to figure out why Porter Wagoner never even cracks a grin while he writes jokes about Folsom Prison. It's not that Porter is gloomy and more than a bit twisted. It's that he NEVER GOT THE PUNCHLINE, at least until he started opening for Jack White.