Djelloul Marbrook

Is that your start scuffed in your coat? I asked my wife the other day. I meant, of course, to ask if that was her scarf stuffed in her coat. It was a humble example of a spoonerism. I love spoonerisms. I think if we declared one day a week Spoonerism Day and observed it with crazed delight we’d take ourselves less seriously. Listening to the pompous asses who direct our affairs indulging in spoonerisms once a week would be a good antidote for the slavish seriousness with which we habitually take them.

We could mess with the oppressive logic of things and turn grave pronunciamentos all topsy-turvy. We could have a high old time at the expense of talking heads, headline writers, politicians, preachers, and everyone else inclined to telling us what’s important. We could make all the snake oil salesmen in the world reverse the order of their pitches until even they laughed at themselves. We could spend a whole day throwing verbal junk balls at each other and go to bed satisfied that the world might not be safer but it sure would be funnier.—DM