stendec

There was once a man, powerful and wealthy, who was beginning to feel dissatisfaction with his life, he had grown bored of his game and its prizes. He was reading the paper one day, one of those pages deep inside that no one ever really reads, and came upon a tiny little article in the corner that caught his attention. The article: "Monk Discovers Meaning Of Life" was about a solitary monk living high in the Himalayas who, according to the article, had discovered the meaning of life. Of course the journalist who wrote the article either didn't know or simply failed to impart what that meaning might be.

The man however, was intrigued by the story and its possibilities. All at once he decided to abandon everything, his empire and his game, and make a pilgrimage into the heart of the mysterious Himalayas on a quest for truth. He quickly made what preparations were necessary and began his journey east.

Through many hardships he had made his way into the Himalayas when disaster suddenly struck. Deep in the wilderness of the mountains he was set upon by bandits. They took everything, his equipment, his food, even his llama. Almost as an afterthought, they turned and shot his trusted Sherpa as they rode away. In shock and with nothing but the clothes on his back he pondered his fate. He was too far up to turn back, he had no choice but to go on.

Having climbed high into the mountains on grim determination alone and almost dead of starvation and exhaustion, he finally saw a light emanating from the mouth of a small cave. With renewed vigour he dashed up the last few steps to the cave and collapsed at the opening. Upon catching his breath, he took a look inside and saw an old wizened little monk with a long beard seated in front of a small fire. The little monk was so absorbed in his meditations that he did not look up at the arrival of this rare and unexpected visitor.

The once powerful and wealthy man, now weakened and humbled by his terrible and arduous journey slowly crawled into the cave and spoke, "I have traveled from far, far away and endured many hardships to find you. It is said that you have discovered the meaning of life."

The monk made no sign of reply, but kept up his meditations, head lowered and eyes closed. The man spoke again, "Please, master, I have come so far to hear your wisdom. I have nothing left, not even food. I will not survive the journey back down the mountain, but if I die knowing the meaning of life, it will have been worth it."

The monk took a deep breath. "The meaning of life..." he paused, one must presume for effect, "... The meaning of life... is that a wet bird does not fly at night." Said the monk returning to his meditations.

After a moment of bewildered silence, the man swore with a string of oaths and vulgarities fit to stun the most foul mouthed cur. "I gave up my empire, my wealth, everything to seek out your wisdom! I cannot count the times I have faced death and survived, determined to fulfill my quest and knowing that I will never return, and all you can tell me is "the meaning of life is that a wet bird doesn't fly at night"???!!!" Whereupon he swore again, a bellowing of profanity and vitriol potent enough to shame his family for seven generations in either direction.

Silent moments passed and then slowly, very slowly, the monk lifted his head and opened his eyes to look at the strange man who had screamed and swore so. "You mean..." said the monk narrowing his eyes, "... a wet bird DOES fly at night?"






Thanks to Roadhouse Johnny for telling me this joke so many years ago. It remains the best I have ever heard.

PS: Sorry I've been negligent, I'm catching up now.