The Wit’s Guide to Phobias

Or, I only appear to be dead

The Quacking Cavadenti, or An Entirely Rational Fear of 17th Century Dentists, Theodoor Rombouts, 1620-1625.

A phobia is defined by the American Psychological Association as an irrational fear, which is a pretty harsh judgment on everyone who suffers. Arachnophobia? Spiders can kill you! Acrophobia? Heights, and the rapid abandonment thereof, can kill you! Thanatophobia? Death can will kill you! These fears are hardly irrational.

“The discovery of phobias by the psychiatrists has done much to clear the atmosphere. Whereas in the old days a person would say: ‘Let’s get the heck out of here!’ today he says: ‘Let’s get the heck out of here! I’ve got claustrophobia!’”
— Robert Benchley

If you partake in taphephobia, the fear of being buried alive, why not adopt the practice of Hans Christian Andersen? Every night, the beloved children’s author left a note on his bedside table that read “I only appear to be dead.” It worked like a charm. And it was much cheaper than purchasing a safety coffin, as George Washington did, and less grisly than Alfred Nobel’s demand that his veins be opened to confirm his expiration.

“I have three phobias which, could I mute them, would make my life as slick as a sonnet, but as dull as ditch water: I hate to go to bed, I hate to get up, and I hate to be alone.”
— Tallulah Bankhead

There is a theory that koumpounophobia, the fear of buttons, is why Steve Jobs demanded a smartphone without a keyboard. But does the fact that he hated buttons on clothes — hence the black turtlenecks — correlate with buttons on phones? Aren’t they entirely different kinds of buttons? Or is this why they say phobias are irrational?

“If a man harbours any sort of fear, it makes him landlord to a ghost.”
— Lloyd Douglas

If all phobias are a transfer of repressed angst to a random signifier, solving one phobia might just create another. It’s like a game of whack-a-mole for zemmiphobes, or people who fear moles. So when Apple calmed one group of phobics by removing buttons, they agitated a whole other group by adding cameras. The three lenses on the iPhone 11 unnerved trypophobes, those who indulge in a fear of clusters of small holes. The Washington Post reported that “the fear could stem from an evolutionary response to dangerous animals like poisonous frogs and insects, which often display patterns similar to those seen in trypophobic photos.” So maybe our brains are trying to warn us that smartphones are bad?

“Hope is ambiguous but fear is precise.”
— Leo Rosten

Thankfully there is a cure for phonephobia, a totally non-clinical designation for young people who would really rather not talk to a human on the telephone. “Cut out pictures from a magazine of a smiling man and woman and look at that while you're on the phone,” expert telephone user Mary Jane Copps advised CBS News. But wait— the smartphone already killed off the printed magazine! It is a truly terrifying device!

“Tell us your phobias and we will tell you what you are afraid of.”
— Robert Benchley

There is hope for the chronically phobic, and it comes from a Glasgow waitress who told TikTok that she successfully does her job despite mortuusequusphobia, a fear of ketchup. Why mortuusequusphobia? It comes from the Latin for dead horse. Why dead horse? It’s Australian for ketchup. Why? Because they call ketchup tomato sauce and then use their peculiar antipodal slang to rhyme “sauce” with “horse.” Why dead? I don’t know. All of which is irrelevant to the actual solution to this phobia and maybe all the others: Just grimace and get on with it already.

---

Where’s Waldo? (Or for my British readers, Wally?) He’s off sublimating his creator’s kenophobia, or fear of the empty. This diagnosis, originally made of ornate Victorian paintings by art critic Mario Praz, is also called horror vacui. And it made me think of Riposte Card No. 6 by Eugenia Viti, which features an unauthorized cameo by Waldorf himself:

If you’d like this beautiful artwork sent to you in the mail, upgrade your subscription today!

---

“When you suffer an attack of nerves you’re being attacked by the nervous system. What chance has a man got against a system?”
— Russell Hoban

I have a fear of the unknown, which doesn’t need a name because that’s just the human condition, innit? A fear of Canadians aping British slang does need a name. And I need a subject for next week!

Issue No. 289 of Get Wit Quick was nothing to be afraid of. Unless dangling prepositions frighten you. The 1990s-era website PhobiaList.com offers surprisingly little expertise and even less graphic design. As the webmaster (remember that term?) says, “If you’re looking for a phobia name that’s not on this list, I’m afraid I don’t have it.” Get Wit Quick’s mascot is Magnus the Magpie, an intelligent bird who collects shiny things and stole his name from the magician in Robertson Davies’ Deptford Trilogy. The title font is Vulf Sans, the official typeface of the band Vulfpeck that will have you wondering, “Is subtle funk even funkier?” The book was Elements of Wit: Mastering The Art of Being Interesting. Don’t be afraid to tap the ❤️ below!