Why do I feel embarrassed for enjoying something silly?

You laugh at something small — a dumb joke, a game, a cartoon — and right after, a little voice checks itself. It asks: is this beneath me? Should I be doing something more serious? That check happens fast, almost before the laugh finishes. Nasreddin once lay on the ground laughing at a chicken chasing its own shadow. A neighbor frowned. "Hodja, a man of your standing, laughing at a chicken?" Nasreddin said, "Would you rather I cried at it?" The neighbor had no answer. Neither do most of us, when we ask ourselves the same question. This isn't really about the chicken, or the game, or the silly film. It's about a rule you picked up somewhere — that joy has to earn its keep, that only serious things deserve a straight face. That rule can be questioned. Here's how to start.