I have to remind myself that writing is a gift, just like those of an accomplished musician, artist, or a mime. I had been taking this gift for granted when that irrepressible, uplifting family, the Simpsons, again brought perspective. This time it was via rascally Bart, encouraging little sister Lisa not to give up on her own journalistic bent.

When the evil, older-than-dirt billionaire, Monty Burns was buying every media outlet in town to rescue his image, Lisa launched her own newspaper, “The Red Dress Press.” But Burns’ oppressive tactics to drive her out of business, like hiring grade school goons and cutting off the Simpsons’ electricity, had Lisa contemplating giving up. She was re-energized by Bart’s simple but profound words, “The pen is mightier than the flaming bag of poop, Lees.”

And the deceptively-brilliant Simpsons is mightier than any PBS documentary. Every episode brings its own valuable lesson, like the recent cautionary tale about the perils of doing “anything for a laugh.” I’ve been guilty of that mentality since grade school, and last week’s prank proved it’s not getting any better.

Since my shower began leaking, I’ve been mooching occasional showers from my friends Mahlon and Jere Clemons. After one such exhilarating shower, I exited their bathroom wearing only my underwear and black socks, loudly sighing, “Ah, nothing like a hot shower to make one feel alive and alert.”

They were both so fixated on their respective Internet activities, they only nodded, not even lifting their eyes from their screens. I find this kind of addictive behavior disturbing, and repeated, “I say, there is nothing like …” before receiving the desired, shocked reactions. Was it worth the cheap laugh? With my weightlifter’s physique a distant memory and the legs of a migrant bird, it was certainly no act of vanity, and I suppose some might even deem the whole thing “inappropriate.”

Homer Simpson also had reason to question the cost of lost dignity one day while working at Mr. Burns’ nuclear power plant. He was bemoaning always being broke between paychecks to buddies Lenny and Carl during lunch break, when Burns entered the cafeteria.

Lost without his absent, ambiguously-gay, eternally-loyal Waylon Smithers by his side, Burns had been prowling the halls desperately seeking amusement. Seizing the opportunity, Homer meekly asked miserly Burns if he might have a small raise. The answer was a predictable “hell no,” but the old man did offer an alternative: “I’ll give you $4 to throw that pudding at Lenny.”

Homer reluctantly hit his unsuspecting buddy square in the face, to which Lenny screamed, “Aah! The doctor said I wasn’t supposed to get pudding in my eye!” “Do it again and I’ll make it an even $8,” Burns said giddily. A second bulls-eye had the old fossil’s bony legs dancing the jig while laughing hysterically. He hired Homer on the spot as his official “prank monkey.”

Homer was soon reduced to lying in a hospital delivery room naked except for a diaper, cooing to a disgusted crowd, “Baby made a boom-boom.” He left nerdy “Comic Book Guy” aghast after walking into his store and tearing a page from a priceless issue. After each “prank,” he received small cash stipends from a joyous Burns. Often he would toss the money at Homer’s feet to gleefully watch him grovel.

His next task was to sneak into the zoo’s Chinese Panda cage dressed as Sim-Sim. “Wait till they see their rare panda is nothing but a fat guy in a suit,” Burns giggled. When Homer questioned the necessity of dancing the “Lindy Hop,” Burns replied, “Oh, that’s the heart of the bit.”

As Homer danced wildly in the enclosure, the announcer said, “Looks like Sim-Sim is a little frisky today” before trainers administered repeated electrical shocks. Then “Hey folks, there’s our resident bull panda, Ping-Ping.” Burns convulsed in laughter from his hiding spot as Ping-Ping dragged the Sim-Sim imposter off to his cave.

Only after waking up under the arm of the sleeping stud was Homer able to sneak away, but during his escape, he got stuck upside down on the barb-wire fence while three skunks sprayed him in the face.

Well, Lisa eventually convinced Homer to stand up to Burns and stop selling his dignity, a feat made even more difficult when Burns offered him a large sum to ride on a parade float and throw fish guts at the crowd.

But Homer was able to reclaim his pride and return to being simply a borderline obese, gluttonous, snoring, butt-scratching, drunken, good husband and father. And I once again learned a valuable, Simpsons-inspired lesson. Traipsing half-naked through the house of a family from church got me a shocked laugh, but at what cost?

I didn’t even get a lousy four bucks — the going rate for hitting someone in the face with a pudding cup.