Literary Nonfiction. Memoir. Humor. Music. Of all of Raymond Smullyan's many books, A MIXED BAG: JOKES, PUZZLES, RIDDLES AND MEMORABILIA perhaps best captures the timeless delight of the casual conversation of this American polymath. A seamless continuum of jokes, stories, puzzles, and reflections, caught in an deliciously unpremeditated arc that nonetheless is remarkably cohesive, it is sparkling and charming proof that cheerfulness need not be incompatible with intelligence, nor pleasure with wisdom.
Literary Nonfiction. Memoir. Humor. Music. Of all of Raymond Smullyan's many books, A MIXED BAG: JOKES, PUZZLES, RIDDLES AND MEMORABILIA perhaps best captures the timeless delight of the casual conversation of this American polymath. A seamless continuum of jokes, stories, puzzles, and reflections, caught in an deliciously unpremeditated arc that nonetheless is remarkably cohesive, it is sparkling and charming proof that cheerfulness need not be incompatible with intelligence, nor pleasure with wisdom.
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Overview
Literary Nonfiction. Memoir. Humor. Music. Of all of Raymond Smullyan's many books, A MIXED BAG: JOKES, PUZZLES, RIDDLES AND MEMORABILIA perhaps best captures the timeless delight of the casual conversation of this American polymath. A seamless continuum of jokes, stories, puzzles, and reflections, caught in an deliciously unpremeditated arc that nonetheless is remarkably cohesive, it is sparkling and charming proof that cheerfulness need not be incompatible with intelligence, nor pleasure with wisdom.
Product Details
ISBN-13: | 9780986144578 |
---|---|
Publisher: | Sagging Meniscus Press |
Publication date: | 05/01/2016 |
Pages: | 164 |
Sales rank: | 765,130 |
Product dimensions: | 5.50(w) x 8.40(h) x 0.50(d) |
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A Mixed Bag
Jokes, Riddles, Puzzles and Memorabilia
By Raymond M. Smullyan
Sagging Meniscus Press
Copyright © 2016 Raymond M. SmullyanAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-9861445-7-8
CHAPTER 1
A Mixed Bag
Some time ago, I got hold of a book of 300 jokes. Of all the three hundred, there was only one I halfway liked; the rest I found totally worthless. Perhaps some of them will appeal to those whose sense of humor is different from mine, I don't know. But for me, there was only one that was not half bad, which is about a conductor on a train who said to the brakeman: "There is a tramp in the box car; throw him off!" The brakeman said, "Certainly," and went into the box car, where he did see a tramp, and said to him, "Now, look, I don't want any argument!" Upon which the tramp pointed a gun at him and said: "This does all my arguing for me!" The brakeman scratched his head, left and went back to the conductor who asked: "Did you throw him off?" "No, I didn't." Angrily the conductor asked: "Why not?" "Well, you see, it turned out that he is my cousin, and I can't throw my own cousin off the train!" "Well, I'll throw him off!" at which the conductor left, and returned after a while: "Well," asked the brakeman, "did you throw him off?" "No," replied the conductor, "it turned out that he's my cousin also!"
Not too bad, but not as good as the average of the jokes I will tell you. Speaking of averages, I am reminded of a joke I heard about sixty years ago: A man took a train from New York to San Francisco. Before getting off, he said to the porter: "What is your average tip?" The porter replied: "Two dollars." He was then given two dollars, and the porter said: "Man, you are the first one to come up to my average!"
And speaking of tips, I am reminded of the gag of Groucho Marx on board ship, when the bellboy had just helped Groucho with his luggage, and Groucho asked him: "Is tipping allowed on this boat?" "Oh, yes Sir!" was the enthusiastic reply. "Well, do you have change of ten dollars?" "Oh, yes Sir!" "Then, in that case, you won't need the nickel I was going to give you."
Speaking of stinginess, I recall one movie featuring Jack Benny and Fred Allen. Jack Benny was portrayed as the ultimate in stinginess. In one scene, Fred visits Jack in one of Jack's mansions, and at one point Jack asks Fred if he would like a cigarette. When Fred says he would, Jack says: "You'll find a cigarette machine in the hall."
There is also the story of a very rich but stingy man who tries to get into Heaven. Saint Peter asks him what he has ever done for anyone. The man replies that he once give a nickel to charity, once gave a nickel to the Salvation Army, and recently gave a nickel to a beggar. St. Peter turns to God and asks: "What should I do with this man?" God replies: "Give him back his fifteen cents and tell him to go to Hell."
One of my favorite stories in this genre is about a very wealthy man who never gave to charities. One day a group of men came to his house and told him he should contribute to United Charities. The man replied: "Just a minute, you haven't heard my side of the story! I have a mother who is very sick and whose medical bills cost a hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year. I have an uncle who is even more sick, and his medical bills cost two hundred thousand dollars a year. My son's college expenses run about eighty-five thousand dollars a year. Now, since I don't give a penny to any of those people, why should I give anything to you?"
There is a certain country in which the inhabitants are characterized by their stinginess. I recall two jokes about this country. One is about an inhabitant who was in a grocery store and after selecting some goods, gave the grocer a dollar bill. The grocer gave him his change. The man held the change in his hand and kept looking at it. The grocer said: "What's the matter, didn't I give you enough change?" The man replied: "Barely."
The other story is about an incident from about eighty years ago. A married couple of inhabitants of this country passed a private airfield and saw a sign saying that the pilot would take one on a ride for half an hour for twenty-five dollars. The husband asked the pilot: "Could you take us for a quarter of an hour for twelve and a half?" The pilot replied that half-hour rides were standard procedure. The man replied: "But if half an hour costs twenty-five dollars, than a quarter of an hour should be twelve and a half." The pilot again told him that the standard procedure was a ride for half an hour, and the two kept arguing. Finally the pilot said: "Look, I can't stand hearing you any longer! I'll tell you what: I'll take you up for half an hour, but I don't want to hear any sound out of you! If you make no sound, I'll charge you only twelve and a half dollars, but if you say just one word you pay me twenty-five!" The man replied, "Fair enough." And so the pilot took them up and the man was quiet for quite a while. The pilot began fearing that he would be losing some money, and so he decided to frighten the man into saying something and made a nose dive and almost hit the ground before flying up again, but no reaction came from the man. Then the pilot made a loop-de-loop and tried one scary trick after another, but still the man was silent. When they finally landed, the pilot said: "Very well, you win — you have to pay me only twelve and a half, but you have amazing self-control! At times it must have been very difficult!" The man replied: "Yes, it was very difficult. It was especially difficult when my wife fell out of the plane!"
The following incident sounds like a Scotch joke, but is actually true! I have a letter of a Scotsman who read one of my books, and wrote me saying: "I very much enjoyed your book; I'm even thinking of buying a copy."
Yes, I really have that letter.
There are, of course, many lawyer jokes such as: "Why is it safe for lawyers to swim in shark-infested waters?" Answer: Professional courtesy.
My favorite one is about a lawyer who said to a client: "You can ask me some questions and I will answer them. I charge one hundred dollars per question." The client said: "Isn't that rather excessive?" The lawyer replied: "I don't think so. Now, what is your second question?"
This reminds me of an allegedly true story of a patient who said to a psychiatrist: "If you help me, doctor, I'll give you every penny I possess!" The doctor replied: "Thirty kronen will be enough." The patient replied: "Isn't that rather excessive?"
I love the scene in a Marx Brother's movie in which Groucho was having dinner with a girl in a restaurant, and after the meal was over, he picked up the bill and said: "This bill is outrageous! If I were you, I wouldn't pay it."
Another Marx Brother's gag is one in which Groucho said: "I could dance with you till the cows come home, or maybe I'll dance with the cows till you come home."
Then, of course, there is the famous one in which Groucho was invited to join a certain club and said: "I would never join any club that would have me as a member."
I equally like Chico Marx. In one scene he tells the story of how he as an aviator tried to fly to France: "I getta half way across, but I have to go back because I no have enough gas. The nexta time I take more gas an get only a mile away from France, but have to come back because I no have enough gas. The nexta time I take plenty of gas, plenty of gas. Halfway across, I have to come back — I forgot the aeroplane."
Another comedy team I like is Laurel and Hardy. In one movie Laurel says to Hardy: "Ollie, I think there is something wrong with your eyes. You should go and see an optimist!"
I am reminded of a father who said to his son: "I think you are seeing double!" The son replied: "Impossible, father. If I were seeing double, I would see four moons up there instead of two."
Coming back to Laurel and Hardy, in one scene, Laurel visits Hardy lying in traction in a hospital and says: "Hello, Ollie, I brought you a present." Hardy replies: "What did you bring me?" Laurel says: "A loaf of bread." Hardy disdainfully says: "A loaf of bread! What kind of a present is that for a sick man?" Laurel replies: "Well, I would have brought you candy, but candy was more expensive."
I like the one about a man who decided to test his wife's hearing, and so when her back was turned, he asked: "Can you hear me?" No answer. He took a step closer and repeated: "Can you hear me?" Still no answer. He came closer still and shouted in her ear: "CAN YOU HEAR ME?" She replied: "I already said yes twice before."
I am reminded of the man who went to a doctor complaining that he couldn't remember things too well. "Really?" said the doctor, "how long has this been going on?" The man looked at the doctor blankly and asked: "How long has what been going on?"
A psychiatrist's secretary came into his office and said: "There's a man in the waiting room who says he is invisible!" "Tell him I can't see him now."
A man came to a psychoanalyst with the following problem: "When I'm in bed, I'm afraid someone is under the bed, and so I go under the bed. Then I'm afraid someone may be on top of the bed, so I go back on top. Then I'm afraid someone is under, and so I go back under, and thus keep changing all night from under the bed to on top of the bed, and hence I can't get any sleep!" The psychoanalyst said: "Your problem is curable. You will have to come five times a week at $150 a session for three years." The man said that he would have to think about it.
Several months later, the psychoanalyst met the man on the street and asked him what he had decided to do. "Oh," replied the man, "I'm completely cured! I told my bartender my problem, and he said that for ten dollars he would tell me how to cure it." "And what was the cure?" asked the analyst. "He told me to saw off the legs."
Speaking of doctors, a woman had a swollen ankle and phoned her doctor for advice. "Put on hot compresses," he said. She put on hot compresses, and the swelling got much worse! Her maid saw what was going on and asked her what she was doing. "I have a swollen ankle," she replied, "and I am putting on hot compresses, as my doctor advised." "No, no," said the maid, "for a swollen ankle, you should put on cold compresses, not hot ones!" The lady then put on cold compresses, and the swelling went down immediately. She angrily phoned her doctor and said: "What is this? I put on hot compresses as you advised, and the swelling got much worse. Then I spoke to my maid, who told me to put on cold compresses, which I did, and the swelling was enormously relieved!" "That's funny," said the doctor, "my maid told me hot compresses!"
Speaking again of psychiatrists, one was called into a house in which the problem was that the little girl wouldn't come out from under her bed. Even food was not sufficient to tempt her. Well, the psychiatrist went into the girl's bedroom and came out several minutes later with a puzzled expression. "What have you discovered?" asked the mother, anxiously. "It is very strange," said the psychiatrist, "she is afraid that if she should dare to venture out of her hiding place, people around would start biting her!" "Oh, is that all?" asked the mother, "in that case, we'll have to stop biting her."
Then there is the one about a man who came to a psychiatrist and claimed to be a dog. "How long have you believed this?" asked the psychiatrist. "Oh," said the man, "ever since I was a puppy."
Then a man came to a psychiatrist claiming he was dead. "Oh, yes doctor! I'm completely dead!" "Now look," replied the psychiatrist, "I want you to go home and for several times a day, say: Dead men don't bleed! Dead men don't bleed! Say this over and over again, and come back to me a month later, and then I'll show you something very interesting indeed!"
The man went home and returned a month later. "Well," said the doctor, "what have you been saying to yourself?" "Oh," replied the man, "Dead men don't bleed, doctor; dead men don't bleed." "Good," said the doctor, "now watch this!" At which he pricked the man's finger with a needle, and the man saw it bleed. "Oh, my God," said the man, "my God! Dead men do bleed!"
The wildest psychiatrist story I know is about the man who came to a psychiatrist with the complaint that his whole family was plotting against him. The psychiatrist replied: "Perhaps you should kill them!"
The following story is true: a psychiatrist I know worked a great deal with psychotics. At one point he came into a room in the hospital and saw a man with his ear to the wall. "What are you doing?" the doctor asked. "Ssh, doctor, I'm listening!" "And what do you hear?" The patient replied in a pathetic voice: "That's just it, doctor, nothing!"
Another true incident is about a schizophrenic patient who hadn't talked for sixteen years. He was being exhibited to a medical class. One of the students went up to him and said: "Why don't you ever say anything?" The patient opened his mouth and said: "What is there to say?"
Another true story beautifully illustrates a point that I have emphasized in some of my other writings, namely that a lie doesn't necessarily involve making a false statement, but only that the statement be contrary to the person's belief, even if the statement is true. Well, the doctors at a certain mental institution were thinking of releasing a certain schizophrenic patient, but they decided to first test him under a lie detector. At one point they asked him whether he was Napoleon. The patient replied: "No." The machine showed he was lying!
Speaking of lying, the following incident is true. During part of my college years, I was supporting myself as a magician. At one point my business was not going too well, and so to earn extra money, I applied for a job as a salesman. I had to take an examination, and one of the questions asked was whether I objected to telling a little lie now and again. I certainly did object, but I was afraid that if I truthfully voiced my objection, I wouldn't get the job, and so I lied and said "No."
Later on, I realized I was in a kind of paradox! Did I object to the lie I told the sales company? I realized that I did not! Then since I didn't object to that particular lie, it therefore followed that I don't object to all lies, hence my answer "No" was not a lie, but the truth! So was I lying or not?
To my utter amazement I once came across a psychiatry textbook written around 1902, in which schizophrenia was defined as: "A mental disease caused by disobeying one's parents." There may actually be a germ of truth in that!
Someone I know told me that he once visited a mental institution and spoke to a patient who complained that his whole family was plotting against him. When asked how he knew, he replied: "Because when I went to the gas station, I could see though the keyhole..." "Just a minute," said my friend, "how could you see through the keyhole if you went to the gas station?" "Ah," he replied, "that's what I told them!"
There is the story told about the wife of the governor who visited a mental institution and met a patient who said: "Now look, I can assure you that I have been framed by my family. I understand that you don't necessarily believe me, since other patients here make the same claim. No, I am not advising you to believe that what I am saying is necessarily true, but I know that you are the wife of the governor, and all I am asking is that you ask the governor to have my case received. That's all I am asking." This sounded reasonable to the lady and she agreed to do this. She turned her back and started walking out of the room, at which the patient gave her a terrific kick in the backside and yelled: "And don't forget to tell the governor!"
Two patients of a mental institution were standing outside in the garden with a warden. A bird flew by and dropped something on the head of one of them. The warden, who was quite kind-hearted, said: "Oh, I'll go inside and get some toilet paper." When he went inside, the patient laughed and said to the other one: "That guy is crazy! By the time he gets back, the bird will be twenty miles away!"
A man once had a flat tire just as his car was outside an asylum. He removed the wheel, but by accident, all the lugs rolled away and down a gutter! The man scratched his head and wondered what to do. At this point a patient, who had been watching through an open window on the second floor, said "why don't you take off one lug from each of the other three wheels and use them for this one. Then, at the next gas station, you can probably get four more." "What a clever idea!" said the man, "How come you are here?" "Look," said the patient, "I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid!"
(Continues...)
Excerpted from A Mixed Bag by Raymond M. Smullyan. Copyright © 2016 Raymond M. Smullyan. Excerpted by permission of Sagging Meniscus Press.
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Table of Contents
Contents
Foreword,Preface,
A Mixed Bag,