+ Puns and Stuff

Puns have been called the lowest form of humour. And someone added: "...and hence, the foundation of all humour." That addresses both sides of the argument adequately, and so I will let it be at that.

I do like puns; sometimes I love them. And, on occasion, I cringe from them. This latter form I usually find in newspapers – Indian English newspapers, I must specify.

I saw one in the papers today. Safin winning the Australian Open prompted this front-page headline: "Safin(e) a game". I don’t know what it means but I think I know what it is supposed to mean, and know very well that it is the sub trying desperately to be clever. This is trying to fit a round peg in a square hole, insisting that it is square, and fitting it with stuff to fill the gaps near the corners. Isn’t that what the ‘e’ in those brackets is doing?

For me, a good pun has to be straightforward, with its second meaning peeping out from behind the obvious one; not a convoluted and strained piece of wordplay which has pointers saying: "Hey! Look at me...I’m a pun." It’s no pun – I mean, fun – when you have something that looks like a mathematical equation, and you have to sit down and solve it - take apart the constituents and recombine them - before you can get at the second meaning.

Coming back to the Safin, let me hazard a guess. I think it has to be read to mean: "So fine a game." But since the brackets are there, let me again guess that it should be possible to read it without the paranthesis. But what does "Safin a game" mean? Laboured wit is no wit at all. It nearly ruins my day to open the paper in the morning and come across a bad puzzle like this right on the front page. Must you be clever at all costs? The only saving grace here for me is that it has nothing to do with a tragic event. Well, wordplay happened there, too. Read the end of Welcome to the Real World.