In folklore, fools are everywhere. German tales have the Schildburgers; the people of the Netherlands wax on about the simplefolk of Kampen; Latin Americans make fun of the people of Galicia; and the ancient Greeks fabricated that Boeotia was home of the fools. There are historical lands of fools, too, in the old stories of Moravia, Bohemia, Sweden, Finland, Spain, and even Nazareth. Fools are simultaneously silly and cautionary. They are designed to make you laugh and teach you a lesson at the same time. And while fools are often conveyed as simple, the mask of a fool can be used to tell wise but unpleasant truths. As much as we might not want to admit it, we all kind of need the fool. Without her, life would be even more dangerous than it is now; and worse: it would be utterly boring.
This month, we celebrate the fool in all her humanity. We bring you stories of tricks, pranks, and gags; but we have more than just that. Here, too, are tales of love, which can turn us into great fools. And there are stories of death, which eventually makes a fool of all of us. There will be new content every week, and — best of all — we’ll be accepting your comics, satire, and creative nonfiction on this foolish subject throughout the month.
by Brian Cullen
This is a dire time for Homestead Insurance Company. As you know, we’ve just reviewed the Q2 results and our market share is down another 8 percent – the sixth quarter in a row where we’ve been in the red. I won’t lie, ladies and gentlemen — this puts our brokerage in serious financial jeopardy. Things aren’t looking good. In my opinion, however, the solution is clear.
by Paul Handley
Hey guys, it’s been too long since we have been together and mocked an aspect of pop culture to momentarily provide push-back to our inferiority complexes. I thought we could do a little cross-country bonding through a joint movie review in Mystery Science Theater 3000ish fashion.
by Rachel Charlene Lewis
Tonight is our second-to-last goodbye before we separate for our sophomore year of college. A few weeks from now, Rayne and I will get Italian ice, sit in her car in my driveway and talk for three hours. I will spill cotton candy-flavored ice down my tank top and, when Rayne laughs at my clumsiness, I will press my sticky fingers to her shoulder.
by Tom Connor
Teresa, I’d like to apologize for my actions during your presentation to the board on the pay gap between men and women. I assume you worked hard on it, and in retrospect I showed very poor form.
by Stephanie Knapp Stoeker
Alcée Fortier doesn’t get it.
He’s spent decades listening, absorbing, and translating a vast collection of stories recounted by the humans living in and around the great estate of Le Petit Versailles built by his grandfather – the first to refine sugar in Louisiana – Valcour Aimé.
by Shane Cashman
by Roy White
by Christine Giustra
by Jupiter Diego
My mother died on my birthday while I was in rehab at the Betty Ford Center. People were supportive and generous on that day, my 57th birthday. My best friend at Betty Ford, a quiet, deep fellow named Aaron, had a private room next to mine. On the morning of the day that my mother died, Aaron gave me some terribly important chocolate from Madagascar. This is a treat one must not take lightly or unconsciously. It was a deep, dark, and earthy bar with a light dusting of African sea salt, and a winner of the Paris Salon du Chocolat “Best in Show.”
by Sophie Lucido Johnson
by Jen Overstreet
Jen Overstreet hails from Brooklyn, NY, where she lives in a precarious stack of modular furniture with her 5 cat allergies. Her pursuits include illustration, painting, web design, media criticism, cross-stitch and Skyrim. You can see her work at www.streetoverjen.com.
© 2015 NEUTRONS/PROTONS