Testimonial | Illumination

A Testimonial To Charles Roast

When ‘Funny’ Just Doesn’t Cut It

I’ve only been here for two weeks. I’ve written some stuff, good and bad. But I’m missing the one true thing I’d like to add. Something funny. There’s just one problem: That job is already occupied.

No, not Kevin Hart. I appreciate the joke, but I don’t like mine that short. The jokes, I mean.

No. It had to be Charles Roast.

Charles or “Chuck” turned out to be the guy who makes Ricky Gervais laugh in his spare time. No seriously, that dude went to Chuck right before the Oscars to get his printed cards with all them fancy jokes on them. He’s following Chuck on Twitter. Or he should.

When I first got here, I didn’t even know what a “Chuck” is. I know woodchucks. I know Chucky, that creepy little doll. No, that can’t be it. It’s a lot of things, but funny ain’t its strong suit.

Next would be Chuck Norris.

Come on! Everyone knows Chuck Norris! He’s the guy that got his chest hair ripped out by Bruce Lee! Yeah sorry, Texas Ranger. You’re never gonna live that down.

But again, not him.

So I asked almighty Google.

I tried asking the NSA first. They know every single American after all. And they see a lot. If they can find terrorists hiding in a dirty cave half across the globe, then they surely know about Chuck Roast, right?

But they seemed reluctant to tell me anything about him. They only gave me a single piece of paper with bullet points, but those were all blacked out. When I asked for something more understandable, they got all spooky and threw me out.

After their cease and desist, I thought I might get more out of Google. But I was wrong again. Searching for Chuck Roast only presents images of Pot Roast. Not quite the same. One is pleasant to look at and instills feelings of joy and happiness, the other is Chuck.

So I tried and asked Google for “Charles Roast” instead. Funnily enough — and I hope you don’t mind too much — the first result related to Medium was not one of his famous posts, no. It was one of my responses to him.

Beat you again, Chuck. It even got my name in the title. Sweet smell of victory. And Pot Roast.

Update: As of April 19th, he ruined that too, simply by making a comment containing “LOL”. Thank you Chuck. That felt like it came from the heart.

So since Google doesn’t help either, my only means of getting to know that mysterious Simpsons-impostor is to actually read any of his stuff.

What do we have? Let’s see.

Of course, your captain’s log on top. Your most successful piece of writing to date. If anyone hasn’t read it yet, please do. He’s not only making you smile, he’s actually teaching you something.

Let’s see if we can find something more personal to learn from.

Aan-Tici-Payayshun. Ah, I’ve seen some people write about a dude named Seneca, so Chuck too is into ancient philosophical stuff. A connoisseur of wisdom, eh?

Reading through it, I can already see that whoever this Aan-Tici-Payayshun was, he must have been very wise, much more so than Seneca. And Chuck spends much time studying his old teachings. Being patient seems to be one of the more important ones.

Now we know that Chuck is a smart man. And he has a fear of Latex. But I’m sure the NSA knows that already.

Moving on — a good investigation takes time.

Well… sometimes. Point for Chuck. Here’s his bio.

Full of all the good stuff. And Chuck is in there too!

We are learning more and more… he’s 6'4".

Wow, I mean what is even that? How much is it in bananas? See? That’s what’s wrong with the US. Their imperial system, which by the way comes from Great Britain. Weren’t you guys eager and proud to get rid of all things British? So you go and waste tons of tea in Boston (the good one, even!), but won’t start measuring like the whole rest of the world? Odd…

You guys have seen Harry Potter? Want to know why the Queen still won’t bite the dust? Because the US is her final Horcrux, that’s why. Look at her evil smile.

That smile can make cars flip through tunnels. Just sayin’.

She’ll be immortal for as long as the US uses the imperial system. That’s her trick. Now you know. God is that creepy. Hurry up and read on, don’t want to look at her any longer than necessary.

So you’re 1.95m, Chuck. That’s huge. What size shoe do you wear? For the ladies. You know what they say about a man’s feet, don’t you?

Moving on, he says that he comes from America’s Midwest. So Indiana.

But wait, the Midwest consists of 12 states, how could you possibly know it’s Indiana?

Easy one. He didn’t want to name the state. My dad told me to always expect the worst if someone beats around the bush. And Indiana is the worst state of the Midwest according to a small poll.

Though I must admit, I’m not sure. I’d rather think Chuck comes from Ohio. Why? Well, I know a really cool dude with a great sense of humor. And that dude also comes from Ohio. Maybe it runs in their blood?

If you’re from Ohio, good on you! If you’re from Indiana, well sorry. I won’t tell anybody. We all have our dirty little secrets.

What else is he sharing with us?

He becomes very tender under gentle prodding.

Ah, that must be why the NSA is so spooky about it. One dude, in particular, avoided eye contact the moment I mentioned Chuck. Curious.

Next comes a list of bullet points. Ah! Hey! That’s the same stuff the NSA gave me! Without the black bars this time!

Oh…

Hold on…

Yeah, if Edward Snowden puts those out on Wikileaks, I’ll never forgive him for that.

Don’t peak, people. Nasty stuff.

But enough of that. In order to become funny like him, I must study him, become him. I must drink from the mysterious well that’s called “Chuck Roast”. I know Jim Beam works too, but my wife is somehow against that.

Okay, Chuck is open about himself. But not about his secret to humor. There must be more to it. Let’s dig some more, shall we?

Dad-Bods…his own publication.

This seems to be the earliest of his articles I can find.

Dad-Bods is a pretty elite group of handsome, intelligent, sensitive, sexy, loving, caring and nurturing parents and/or individuals. But you don’t have to be any of that to write for us. Well, except for the “individual” thing. That’s like, being a person.

Hey! How come I haven’t been invited? I fit all the criteria?! I’m an individual, right? Now I have to write an open letter, start a Go-Fund-Me and file for a petition to get me into Dad-Bods. More work.

And there I made up my mind again. How could an editor who rejects his own stories possibly be willing to publish mine? Can’t live up to that pressure. That’s Chuck for you. Like Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

But hey, if you need a diligent editor, it seems he’s putting his heart into it. Nothing says “serious editor” more than “I reject my own crap”.

And you thought “P.S. I Love You” is a tough cookie to get into. Looks like they don’t know Chuck.

But I’m still unable to crack the code.

Wow! Look at that! Who’s the other guy, Chuck?

Well, let’s make it three then. There. Maybe you’ll one day allow me the honor to be rejected by your pub. It would mean the world to me.

Though I have learned quite a lot about you, I’m still not sure how you pull off this seemingly effortless approach of satire and humor with which you make all our days so much brighter.

I think — no, I’m SURE of it now, that I can’t simply learn your ancient techniques by studying your writing. I will still read them, so wipe that sweat off your forehead. It’s all good.

But once the quarantine is over, I’ll take a road trip through the Tibetan mountains, to seek this monk called Aan-Tici-Payayshun. There I should find the hidden answers to your greatness.

But if it turns out to be a little green guy who talks weird, then I’m NOT doing it!

That guy freaks me out!