Some years ago I got myself sucked into writing a few humor columns for The Inquirer's long-defunct Sunday magazine. I discovered why comedians tend to be sourpusses in real life. Writing humor is very hard. Every least detail must be considered and must work. The dynamics of each sentence - both in itself and in its relation to those that precede and follow it - must be precise. When you're finished, the piece rarely seems funny, you don't feel funny, you doubt if anything is really funny, and why in the hell did you take on this assignment in the first damned place?