The Wit's Guide to Democracy
Or, celery and sidewalk
Wits hold this truth to be self-evident: Democracy is the only form of government that provides both an abundance of material and the freedom to use it. In a democracy the average person can aspire to wit (and everyone else can make fun of them) without fear of reprisal.
“The first of all democratic doctrines is that all men are interesting.”
— G. K. Chesterton
In the opposite of a democracy, the court jester is the only permitted wit. Assuming you’re dealing with an enlightened autocrat, this job allows you to speak truth to power with very occasional beheadings.
In her book Fools Are Everywhere: The Court Jester Around the World, Beatrice K. Otto documents the jester tradition in just about every human society. The folk fool could tell the emperor he had no clothes and live to do it again the next day, provided he kept his wits about him. The Renaissance jester Triboulet pushed his luck in the French court of Francis I when he delivered a slap to the royal posterior — and then claimed he’d been aiming for the queen’s rump. When sentenced to death, he argued that he should at least pick his means of dispatch:
“Good sire, by Saint Goody Goody and Saint Pot Belly, patrons of insanity, I choose to die from old age.”
This earned him banishment from France with his head firmly attached to his body, and he made it to the ripe age of 57 — a real achievement in the year 1536.
“Democracy decides matters by counting heads instead of breaking them.”
— Laurence J. Peter
It’s widely understood that our democracies are in trouble these days, mainly because the other guys are nuts. Auberon Waugh, son of Evelyn and A-1 wit in his own right, saw this coming in the year 2000:
Democracy can work as a form of government only in conditions of general apathy. Where there is a greater commitment, it is a recipe for conflict, not to say civil war. Why should ten voters abandon their fondest wishes just because eleven voters have a different preference? Democracy works perfectly well in an atmosphere of indifference and cynicism, but only so long as practically nobody is interested in politics.
Waugh fervently believed that all politicians were mentally ill, “driven by a sick compulsion to be on top, to organise and boss us all around.” These “social and emotional misfits” don’t actually care about policy or ideas; they just long to “compensate for personal inadequacies” by winning the chance to “press a button and watch us all jump.” They deserve pity, scorn, or therapy, but certainly not our adulation and respect.
“No party is as bad as its leaders.”
— Will Rogers
It’s not not true. And if we look to the history of the jester, it seems they’ve existed to solve exactly this problem. As Otto writes:
Among the Murngin tribe of Australia it is the duty of the clown to act outrageously, ludicrously imitating a fight if men begin to quarrel. In making them laugh at him, he distracts their attention from their own fight and dispels their aggression.
The answer, then, is not so much all of us holding hands as it is all of us rolling eyes. Arguably, the best way to adapt the jester to a modern democracy is with a joke party that can show up to smirk at the other guy’s speeches.
And one of the best in modern history has been the Rhinoceros Party of Canada. Founded in 1963 at the height of Quebec’s Quiet Revolution, the Rhinos have promised to break all their promises, to colonize Great Britain, to bulldoze the Rockies so Alberta will have better sunsets, to invest in higher education by building taller schools, to bolster security by requiring all newborn names to include a number and a special character, and to count the Thousand Islands to ensure the Americans haven’t stolen any. They have yet to win a seat.
“The wrong sort of people are always in power because they would not be in power if they were not the wrong sort of people.”
— Jon Wynne-Tyson
Here’s how one of the Rhinoceros candidates used the free radio airtime he was allotted during the 1980 federal election:
“I have but two things to say to you: Celery and Sidewalk. Thank you and good night.”
Maybe it’s too late in history for a Rhinoceros to save us. After all, in the next election the stakes will be higher than ever, as they always are. No one will joke because things are so dire. But maybe, just maybe, things are so dire because no one jokes?
Quote Vote
“It’s not the voting that’s democracy, it’s the counting.”
— Tom Stoppard
Everyone says democracy’s on the ballot, but in last week’s Quote Vote it actually was — and it won with record turnout of 66 votes. Let’s see if we can’t top that for next week. Or if we can top that. The choice is yours!
Speaking of…
What the common people deserve
Comedy minus laughs = revolution
The 174th issue of Get Wit Quick was The People’s Choice, as was Jeff Greenfield’s 1995 comic novel about the U.S. Electoral College. I would at least consider voting for any party that adopted Elements of Wit: Mastering The Art of Being Interesting as their manifesto. When a politician asks you to put your hand over your ❤️, put your other hand over your wallet. But, my fellow wits, it’s free to tap the❤️ below!