The Foolish Wise Guy

Somebody somewhere recently wrote that only a fool pretends to be wise and the bigger the fool, the more wisdom he pretends to have. This hit home with me as I sometimes foolishly share ideas that seem to me to be, if not entirely wise, then at least somewhere in the neighbourhood of wise, if only in the dusty, unlit outskirts.

So, I feel that I have been judged by this man’s assessment as not only someone who is unwise but an actual fool. I sit here on my couch dejected. I’ve always suspected I was foolish and have spent a lifetime trying to disguise it, primarly by trying to sound wise.

But then a notion begins to occur to me, in the same way most fools have notions occur to them. By sharing his bit of wisdom about foolish fellas flinging out non-wisdom into the world, is this wise guy actually outing himself as a fool? He has dispensed his wisdom on the topic, and not only that, on a subject that is pretty wide-ranging. So maybe this guy, as it might turn out ironically, is the biggest fool of all, pretending to pronounce on the folly of fools. However, my guess is he believes he is the one exception to his own rule, that he is, in fact, a wise man dispensing nothing but wise guy wisdom. I wonder, and this is probably a foolish idea, whether or not what said brainiac has been brandishing is really only fool’s gold.

Yes, I think I’ve got this sucker. But for a while there, I have to be honest, he almost had me fooled.

©2018 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.