The Misanthrope’s Corner

‘YOU can pretend to be serious,” wrote Sacha Guitry, “but you can’t pretend to be witty.” True, you can’t pretend to be witty because wit is dry, subtle, lacerating, cynical, elitist, and risqué—all impossible to fake. Humor, on the other hand, is broad, soothing, positive, inclusive, and smutty—to make sure everybody gets it. Pretending to be humorous is easy and a great many people are doing it.

The “happy talk” associated with local news has now permeated the media. Network anchors are stretching and straining for jokey leads, none with more gravid insouciance than Dan Rather, whose ineffable opening statement, “President Clinton was as relaxed as a pound of liver,” earned Dan the Cyrano de Bergerac Award. “Oh, sir, what you could have said, had you some tinge of letters or of wit. But of wit you never had an atom, and of letters you need but three to write you down: a-s-s.”

About the Author

Florence King

Florence King was a contributing editor of National Review.

Featured Tags

‘YOU can pretend to be serious,” wrote Sacha Guitry, “but you can’t pretend to be witty.” True, you can’t pretend to be witty because wit is dry, subtle, lacerating, cynical, elitist, and risqué—all impossible to fake. Humor, on the other hand, is broad, soothing, positive, inclusive, and smutty—to make sure everybody gets it. Pretending to be humorous is easy and a great many people are doing it.

The “happy talk” associated with local news has now permeated the media. Network anchors are stretching and straining for jokey leads, none with more gravid insouciance than Dan Rather, whose ineffable opening statement, “President Clinton was as relaxed as a pound of liver,” earned Dan the Cyrano de Bergerac Award. “Oh, sir, what you could have said, had you some tinge of letters or of wit. But of wit you never had an atom, and of letters you need but three to write you down: a-s-s.”