The pinnacle of cynical
Plus, a llama in a tux
What’s with all the bunting? And do I smell fireworks?
Why yes, this does hereby mark the 75th issue of Get Wit Quick, and what better way to celebrate than with a French 75? When the situation calls for champagne but you’d prefer something stronger, this cocktail of gin, lemon juice, sugar, and bubbles hits the mark. The name sounds delicate but was borrowed from a First World War artillery gun, which is perfect because while the first sip is oh so continental, you’re soon destroyed.
Which is exactly like La Rochefoucauld.
At first, you notice the noble name and the fancy costume of a 17th-century French courtier. Why, this guy had ruffles on his ruffles. He was famous for his maxims, dainty morsels of cleverness he would serve up to oohs and aahs at the Parisian salons of his lady friend, Madeleine de Souvré, Marquise de Sable.
But the actual content of those aphorisms had the kick of a deadly weapon. In his 40s, La Rochefoucauld was a bitter man, and he dressed the wounds of middle age with his cynical maxims. After a youth spent in petty political battles, doomed love affairs, and the occasional stint in The Bastille — and an early retirement spent reading the Stoics — he was ready to drop some truth bombs.
To his great credit, he was quick about it. If you’re going to deliver bad news, you should get to the point — and he did. Humans are only in it for themselves,
We all have strength enough to bear the misfortunes of others.
friendship is fake,
In the adversity of even our best friends we always find something not wholly displeasing.
love is mental illness,
If one were to judge love by the greatest part of the effects it produces, it might very justly pass for hatred rather than kindness.
humility is a long con,
To refuse to accept praise is to want to be praised twice over.
society is abstracted self-interest,
Justice is no more than lively fear that our belongings will be taken away from us.
and if you don’t like it, you can’t handle the truth.
The reason for so much outcry against maxims that lay bare the human heart is that people are afraid of having their own laid bare.
Grim, n’est-ce pas? And yet by delivering his pessimism with pith, he was the life of the party. The name of the game is a clever frame. (And if there’s time, rhyme.) Happy GWQ 75, everyone!
Get Twit Quick
The problem with www.twitter.com was well put by Elamin Abdelmahmoud earlier this week: “The reason we’re all still tweeting is they say Jack hid a secret inside Twitter and if we just keep tweeting, one of us will eventually find the one good tweet.”
To that impossible end, herewith begins Get Twit Quick, a regular spotlight on the brave few who are still sharing quips, puns, and epigrams like it’s 2009. We begin with @LlamainaTux:
Q: What’s the one word that makes any tweet better?
A: Bees. Doesn’t matter where they are or what they’re doing — the word bees makes me laugh.
Q: Best thing to put on toast?
A: Nutella!
Q: Edit button y/n?
A: No! A thousand percent no! It would destroy the medium.
Q: All-time favourite book or movie?
A: The Prestige has got to be some of the best writing I've ever seen. I love a combination of clever and original.
Q: One joke, witticism, or aphorism you live by?
A: Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and to remove all doubt.
I already told you this was the 75th issue of GWQ, but tradition dictates I say it again here. Tradition! My ancient text Elements of Wit: Mastering The Art of Being Interesting had a chapter about Twitter that scoffed at the nutty idea that anyone would need to own a personal computer. Voltaire credited La Rochefoucauld for the broodiness of the French. I posit we’d all be broodier if his name were easier to say in English. Self-love is the greatest flatterer of all, Rosh-Fook-Oh said, so of course I’d like you to tap the ♥️ below.