Wait a damn minute: Is that a pun? IS THAT A PUN?
I hate puns!
There’s a guy on our local NPR station who has a daily two-hour talk show, an insightful interviewer and charming, sonorous conversationalist. I listen to him almost every day — I’m a big fan. But he insists, every once in a while, on bringing the conversation to a screeching halt by making a “witty” pun. I hate that.
I especially hate that when it happens in real life. Punners: You Know Who You Are.
Let me make myself perfectly clear: Puns are nothing to be proud of.
I do not think you are clever because you’ve found some nit wit loop hole in the English language.
Small minds find making puns amusing, in lieu of creating the complex juxtapositions of logic, expectation, and surreality necessary to construct genuine humor.
When you make a pun, what are we supposed to do? Applaud?
Instead of standing there, in appalled confused silence, praying waiting for the moment to pass?
Puns are the verbal equivalent of a fart.
So please: NO PUNS.
The above medley of my Summer notes (from WWCTR, of course) is from my exhibit of art work currently on display at The Manor Club in Westchester County, New York. This will be the last pre-view that I’ll put up here because I’ve been doing this since Monday and I’m beginning to feel like a shill.
Oh, speaking of shilling: I have an announcement to make on December 1st. If you were reading my blog last year, you might be able to guess what’s coming; if you’re “new” to the Vivo Swift-a-Sphere, stay tuned.