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Life really is a rich comedy - in its trajectory - especially as a hyperconscious agent, who shall eventually (to varying degrees) look to the future and dwell on its mortal and contingent plight - but often only “in passing” – but to the most “afflicted” it seems all that is basically left to do is to puke or to have a laugh; let us not dwell on ourselves just in passing through! Might as well keep letting it roll - should we rightly shake our fists at everything? What could be more hilarious than a self awareness of your demise, a realization that took quite some time to really grip the conscious of the animal? And hey, other life forms couldn’t even do this! That is to say, the realization of the unexpected joke that is death has been a slow development as of late within the continuum of life forms. Gotcha! Finally, says death to those who have exerted as such (in particular those who ripened) - but can’t we get the last word in?
How could you not see the humor in the fact that a hyper conscious monkey that grew from the sludge and dirt can now reflect back on itself and its own existence and be so curious about being at large that it is sent in circles of attempts to interpret what the hell is going on? Find a hobby monkey!
I guess a logical extension of this would be to try to describe what laughter and crying signify and where they might converge