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It’s been over thirty years and I still don’t think I get this joke:
So, I’d, a kid, I’m visiting an outdoor museum, and I’m riding in an ox-cart. There are two oxen pulling the cart; I can still see them in my mind’s eye. The old man driving the cart asks me if I can tell them apart from each other. Gesturing at one ox, he says “you see, Bright is right,” and pointing to the other “and Lion’s wrong.”
I’m still not sure if this was a pun on “lying is wrong,” or simply a substitution of the unexpected for the expected word (left/wrong,) but every so often I turn it over in my head and it’s still more mysterious than funny. Or perhaps it wasn’t meant to be funny.
So, I’d, a kid, I’m visiting an outdoor museum, and I’m riding in an ox-cart. There are two oxen pulling the cart; I can still see them in my mind’s eye. The old man driving the cart asks me if I can tell them apart from each other. Gesturing at one ox, he says “you see, Bright is right,” and pointing to the other “and Lion’s wrong.”
I’m still not sure if this was a pun on “lying is wrong,” or simply a substitution of the unexpected for the expected word (left/wrong,) but every so often I turn it over in my head and it’s still more mysterious than funny. Or perhaps it wasn’t meant to be funny.
