If competition draws out essence, then, frankly, I’m mostly disappointed by the posts summarized in the following categories.
Vulgarity. Not only is it a dismal reminder of blight of thoughtlessness, but it’s cheap, bawdy, shallow humor. After reading some of the posts, I felt like I’d just paid a dime to watch a pimp do 30 seconds of stand-up comedy. Or worse, like I’d been exposed to a Mel Brooks film festival. You might get a sudden rush of laughter from your audience, but they’re not improved by it. Some of them probably even feel a bit grimier after the experience.
Imitations. I’d rather grind my teeth on a sidewalk than plagiarize. A copied adage shouldn’t strike you as a form of wit, it should embarrass you as a being capable of dreams. A bird will chirp the Star-Spangled Banner if he hears it enough, but he’ll never conceive of creating something like the Sistine Chapel, or design a helicopter, or write like Whitman. That’s why parrots are cheap, and the Mona Lisa priceless.
Half-heartedness. Again, a function of the collegiate carelessness. I’ve never met so many brilliant people in one place than in college, and I’ve never met so many lazy people in one place than in college. Surely, effort is not always measured by the quantity of the output (in this particular venue: words), but the quality is necessarily proportionate to the degree of effort. Wit can certainly be a sudden showing, but it is a sudden showing of a mind well-trained. True, it is a simple contest and one you might not seriously consider or care about. But then why participate and degrade the competition and the giver of the competition with lousy posts?

Something of yourself is communicated in every word, thought, and expression. Thus, we can rightly call our language alive or “living.” Truly, we “live” in our words. Thus, they are, every one of them, judged eternally. It seems appropriate, then, to count them precious and value them as instruments, as organic conduits to accomplish an end. But, in fact, they’re not just means; they’re an end in themselves. Words produce effects and they are effects. They result in and they are the result of, for from the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.

I know I haven’t given a real witticism yet (unless something above merits “wit”), and that I’ve only engaged in categorical criticisms (yet another form of “easy” conversation). But I’m not really trying to win the competition; I’m trying to improve the nature of the participants and participation.

Still, it is on this final note I close:
If you so wish to win but won’t will to change the work of your words with which you writ’ your wit with, I pithy you.

To set the seen, Lonnie is interviewing anyone who may be of use in the kidnapping case, and is currently talking to a young girl who is second chair to his star drummer.

EXPLOSIONSON: Do you have any idea where Nicholas might be, any place he used to go and play…anywhere?

GIRL DRUMMER: No. Well, actually, he used to ask me to go up to the old fire tower with some of the other guys and judge their beat off competitions, if that helps.

EXPLOSIONSON, looking STUNNED: Thanks, that does help, but I’m shocked that Nicholas would ask you to be witness to something so inappropriate.

GIRL DRUMMER: What’s inappropriate about a beat off? Just a bunch of guys sitting in a circle, pounding til they sweat. Sure it got crowded up there with all the drums, but how else could you tell who could keep a beat the longest. Drummers have to compete just like everyone else.

The title of this post should have been:

“Show me your wits”

If the irony is lost on you, think ‘Mardi Gras”

And, if that wasn’t witty enough for you… I have another one that involves your mother and something about an epileptic on a sugar high.

Just mail the prize to “Wingman” the post office knows where the #!*$ I live.