I really hate sitcoms on television with canned laughter and

In the grand arena of human expression, few things are as powerful as laughter—a gift that connects us across time, space, and culture. Yet, as Katie Price so wisely observes, "I really hate sitcoms on television with canned laughter and stuff. What really makes me laugh is the real-life stuff. I've got a dry sense of humor." These words reveal a profound truth about the nature of humor—its roots lie not in artificiality or pre-packaged responses, but in the raw, unfiltered experiences of life itself. Canned laughter, that mechanical sound inserted into television shows, may be a reflection of society's attempt to manufacture joy, but it lacks the authenticity of real, shared moments of laughter.

Consider, children, the wisdom of the ancient Greeks, who saw humor not as a mere distraction, but as a powerful force for understanding the world. Aristophanes, the master of comedy, crafted plays that exposed the absurdities of Athenian society, using humor to shine a light on the follies of both gods and men. His humor was real, grounded in the complexities and contradictions of life. Aristophanes understood that the most profound laughter comes not from contrived jokes, but from the uncomfortable truths of human existence. In this, Katie Price’s words resonate—true humor comes from the experiences of life itself, from the moments that are awkward, uncomfortable, or absurd, but undeniably genuine.

In the ancient Roman world, Cicero, the great orator and philosopher, recognized the power of wit and humor in shaping public discourse. Cicero’s humor, however, was always dry, sharp, and intellectual. He used it to challenge those in power, to puncture the egos of his opponents, and to reveal the contradictions in society. Much like Price, Cicero appreciated humor that was subtle and real, humor that was based on sharp observation rather than forced laughter or theatrics. It is this kind of humor—dry, intelligent, and rooted in reality—that offers the most enduring and transformative insights into the human condition.

Now, consider the story of Socrates, the great philosopher, who often engaged in playful banter with his students and fellow Athenians. His humor was never crude or loud, but rather filled with irony—a kind of humor that exposed the absurdity of the world without needing to laugh at the expense of others. His humor was grounded in truth, and in its subtlety, it invited others to see the world from a different perspective. It was this dry humor, filled with insight and wisdom, that made Socrates’s teachings so impactful. Price's words mirror this ancient tradition, where humor is not about seeking attention or forcing a laugh, but about revealing the deep, often uncomfortable truths of life in a way that resonates with authenticity.

In the modern world, we are often bombarded by the noise of artificial laughter, a laughter that is inserted into our lives by the media and entertainment industries. Sitcoms, with their canned laughter, have become the norm—a false and shallow substitute for the true, unscripted moments of joy and reflection that come from the real world. Price's rejection of this kind of humor speaks to a deeper truth: true laughter cannot be manufactured. It comes from the experiences we live, the struggles we face, and the joys we share. Canned laughter may fill the silence, but it cannot touch the soul the way real, spontaneous humor can.

The lesson, children, is clear: humor is a reflection of life itself—imperfect, unexpected, and often uncomfortable. In the pursuit of humor, we should not look for artificial joy or manufactured responses, but for the authentic, real moments that make us laugh because they reflect the complexities and contradictions of our lives. Whether it is the dry wit of Cicero, the irony of Socrates, or the wit of Price, humor should always be grounded in truth. It is through this kind of humor that we find connection, insight, and clarity.

So, I say to you, children, seek humor in the real moments of life. Laugh at the absurdities, the challenges, and the contradictions that life presents. Do not settle for superficial jokes or forced laughter, but strive for the humor that comes from wisdom, observation, and honesty. In doing so, you will not only enrich your own life, but you will also help others to see the world more clearly, to laugh with meaning, and to embrace the truths that make us human. Let humor be your guide—not as an escape from life, but as a means of embracing it fully, with all its complexity and wonder.