So, for our first 100 years, Mormons wanted all the ground to be stable. We might think of the Nauvoo Mormons draining the swamp so that they could have solid ground to build their houses on. We can also think of them trekking across the prairie to get to Salt Lake City where they could have solid ground away from the United States that they felt they could own outright. We were willing to let jokes aerate supplemental ground—to help us affirm our values by contrasting them with the values of outsiders—but we weren’t willing to let it into the solid ground. This got us into a situation that was untenable. When the New Mormon History started to get published, and when the internet became popular, we got to the point where we couldn’t assert absolute knowledge. We couldn’t assert absolute truth. So having jokes come closer to solid ground allowed us to exercise creativity rather than either double down or reject Mormon truth claims out of hand.

We’ve been talking about solid ground, as if it is, well, solid ground under foot. But if we follow that metaphor, we would have to admit that, in addition to land, there is also water. Rivers, lakes, seas, oceans. These are the opposite of solid ground. It’s ground that is constantly moving. Ground that will only support you under conditions that don’t resemble the conditions of solid ground at all. It’s an alien substance to solid-grounders. They have no idea what to do with it. But water can bring you to places you can’t reach by land. You can access resources that land doesn’t have.

The best way to traverse water is with a boat. And a boat needs to have a solid structure that can hold together. So there is still some aspect of solid ground to a boat. However, it only needs to hold itself together, not the entire world. In fact, the reason it’s useful is because it’s not holding the entire world together. That’s why it can move.

So, let’s take the solid-ground metaphor one more step. Perhaps Mormonism’s humorists have trained us in the art of thinking differently for long enough that, as a culture, we’ve become better at it, to the point where we are good enough at it to learn how to make use of water from time to time. For example, navigating the completely unsolid, thoroughly humorous environment of the Book of Mormon musical. In other words, we can make boats now. Instead of being land-bound, we are now amphibious. We’ve realized that we don’t have to hold the whole world together; we just need to hold ourselves together.

And, of course, as any good humorist could teach us, there are many ways to hold ourselves together. There are many ways to build a boat which accomplish different ends. We even have that in the Book of Mormon book, where Nephi builds a traditional ship with a mast and sails …

… while the Brother of Jared builds a football-shaped ship that can be flipped over and still continue sailing.

Humorists can make us more agile as a culture, more amphibious.

We can see this in the continuing efforts of Mormon humorists, especially Jett Atwood, who has been contributing cartoons to Sunstone for twenty years or more. We can see in these examples how she, like Grondahl and Bagley before her, aerated Mormonism’s solid ground. For example, in this one that plays with Mormon obedience culture.

Or this one that plays with Mormonism’s relationship with technology.

Or this one where you can see her poking the first holes into Mormon responses to LGBTQ issues.

Just so you know, Jett’s book of collected Sunstone cartoons is for sale on Amazon.

However, none of this solves the age-old problem we have been talking about all this time. What can humor be about? Where is the ground we cannot poke holes in? Especially if we stick with our metaphor and say that people are sailing in various kinds of Mormon ships. Their idea of solid ground, or solid beams, will be different depending on what kind of ship they’re in. I think the closest we’ll come is to say that if a piece of humor is seeking to destroy the culture it came from, to blast out the solid ground, then a culture has every right to reject it. But if a piece of humor aerates the solid ground, the culture should make room for it. I admit that it’s really disconcerting to see all those little poop-shaped cores of dirt everywhere. It makes the lawn look weird for a while. But in the long run, it’s a healthy practice.

All in favor …