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I got the bad news the other day.

After noticing numbness in my left hand and stiffness when I turned my head to the right, I went to my doctor who ordered an MRI from the neck up.

After the results came in, he sat me down with a serious look on his face.

"You," he said with a maximum dose of medical gravitas, "have an abnormal brain."

I was speechless for a moment. Then, after taking a deep breath, I spoke with difficulty, barely concealing my sense of rage at life's unfairness.

"Doc," I said, biting my lower lip, "my wife has been telling me that for 25 years, and she doesn't charge me a $20 co-pay."

One's sense of humor is as vital to the healthy functioning of the human mind as, well, other stuff that is also pretty important. According to folk legend, once you cease to dream, you go mad. According to the U.S. Department of Labor, once you cease to laugh, you go to work at the IRS.

An inability to control one's sense of humor has not yet been classified by the American Psychiatric Association as a psychiatric disorder, but it seems to me that it's only a matter of time. Think of how many intense business meetings are disrupted every day by recollections of stray phrases from "Rocky and Bullwinkle" episodes from the '60s.

FIRST REALLY INTENSE GUY: Acme Widget has hired Greenblatt, Schuster & Fox.

SECOND REALLY INTENSE GUY: Those guys are sharks - total a**holes.

THIRD LESS INTENSE GUY: Seems to me that Acme has surrounded itself with a cordon of nefarious henchmen.

(. . .)

FRIG: What the hell does that mean?

TLIG: 'm not really sure . . . Bullwinkle J. Moose said it one time. Also "A six-foot metal-munching mouse!"

What causes a man, when he sees a mail-in offer on the back of a Rice Krispies box for a "Shrek" inflatable boogie board at breakfast, to become lost in a fog for days, muttering to himself, "Why does Shrek need an inflatable boogie board, and how can I work that into a piece of approximately 500 words that will be of no interest to any print or online publication that pays in actual legal tender, as opposed to crummy promotional points good at a major bookstore currently in Chapter 11?"

I don't have the answers to those questions. But I do have something to say to people who have the courage to create content that they self-identify as humor, risking the sneers of drive-by flamers, editors and other assorted wet blankets, in the hope that someone will click on a banner advertisement, bringing them a check that will cost more to cash than the face amount:

You have abnormal brains.

- Con Chapman

Con Chapman is a Boston-area writer whose works include The Year of the Gerbil, a history of the 1978 Yankees-Red Sox pennant race, and two novels, Making Partner and CannaCorn (Joshua Tree Publishing). He is the author of 30 plays, 10 of which are published. His articles and humor have appeared in national magazines and newspapers including The Atlantic Monthly, The Boston Globe, The Boston Globe Magazine and Salon.com, and he's a frequent contributor to The Boston Herald.