I've always had a sick sense of humor, and I've always wanted

"I've always had a sick sense of humor, and I've always wanted that to permeate the music because I don't take myself seriously. I take the music seriously, but I know I'm not God's gift to anyone except my mom." These words, spoken by Josh Homme, speak to a deep understanding of humility and the role of humor in the creative process. Homme acknowledges that while he dedicates himself to his craft—the creation of music—he does so with a sense of self-awareness. Humor, as he says, is woven into his work because it reflects his lack of pretension. He understands the importance of not taking oneself too seriously, yet he maintains a seriousness about his music. This balance between humility and dedication is a key that has allowed Homme to remain grounded while reaching great heights in his artistic career.

In the ancient world, the concept of humility was a cornerstone of wisdom. The great philosophers of Greece and Rome, from Socrates to Cicero, understood that wisdom came not from self-glorification but from recognizing the limits of one's knowledge. Socrates, in his famous declaration, “I know that I am intelligent, because I know that I know nothing,” exemplified this principle. To take oneself too seriously was to become trapped in vanity—the belief that one’s personal gifts or accomplishments could make them somehow above others. Homme’s words echo this ancient wisdom: he knows that while he has talent, he is not infallible, and his humor allows him to navigate the world without being weighed down by the burden of self-importance.

Consider the great humorists of ancient times, like Aristophanes, whose works blended wit and satire with sharp critiques of the gods, politics, and society. Aristophanes was revered not only for his humor but for his ability to laugh at the very structures of power and prestige—an act that required great courage. Similarly, Homme, with his acknowledgment of his own imperfections, weaves humor into his music to provide a space for reflection. His humor is not a sign of weakness or avoidance, but a tool to strip away the excess ego that often surrounds the artist. In doing so, he invites his listeners into a shared space of authenticity—where they can appreciate his music without the weight of false grandeur.

In the realm of art, the tension between humility and seriousness is not a new one. Take the example of Leonardo da Vinci, whose genius in both science and art led him to achieve heights of human achievement. Yet, despite his brilliance, Leonardo never ceased to humble himself in his work. He was always aware that, no matter his talent, he was but one individual among many, and that true greatness comes not from pride, but from continuous learning and growth. Homme, too, shows a similar reverence for his craft without becoming a prisoner to the inflated sense of self-importance that often accompanies fame. By not taking himself too seriously, he remains free to push boundaries and experiment with his music, unencumbered by the weight of his own self-image.

In modern times, we see the same balance in humorists and artists who manage to maintain their authenticity while producing significant work. David Bowie, for example, famously embodied a range of characters and personas, playing with both seriousness and humor in a way that allowed him to redefine music and art. Bowie’s ability to laugh at his own public persona while still taking his music seriously helped him avoid the trap of self-glorification. Similarly, Homme’s acknowledgment of his own imperfections allows him to stay grounded in the face of fame. His humor invites people into his world without the weight of an overly inflated ego. He, too, recognizes that while he has a gift, it is not for him alone—it is to be shared with those who listen and find something of value in it.

The lesson in Homme’s words is one that transcends both art and life. To take humor seriously is to recognize that life itself is filled with contradictions—greatness and failure, pride and humility, lightness and depth. The best artists, like Homme, understand that their work can be both serious and humorous, profound and relatable, high-minded and self-aware. By not taking themselves too seriously, they open themselves up to the greater flow of creativity and vulnerability. They remind us that humility is not the denial of talent, but the recognition that all we create is a reflection of the world around us, not an ego to be worshipped.

So, dear listener, take this wisdom and let it guide your own path. Do not allow your successes or talents to define you with arrogance or pride. Instead, approach your work—whether in art, life, or relationships—with humility and a sense of humor. Understand that the best of what you create will come from your ability to remain grounded and connected to the world around you. Embrace the contradictions of your own humanity, knowing that it is both serious and humorous, beautiful and flawed, that makes you uniquely you. Like Homme, take your craft seriously, but never lose sight of the humor that keeps you humble and free.