Boner

Dear, dear Boner. The idiot’s idiot. An actual, workaday idiot, who somehow stumbled into philosophy. Who somehow got a philosophy PhD.

How was that possible? Can you somehow end up with a philosophy Ph.D.? Like a tattoo, after a drunken night out? Like a Las Vegas wedding?


What’s the opposite of a consigliere? That’s you, Boner.


Boner is here to make even the idiots look less idiotic.


Boner’s stupid questions. The play of Boner’s idiocies. Like a family dog. Amusing us because his stupidities are even greater than ours.


A clown’s clown. An idiot’s idiot. A fool’s fool. The jester’s jester, right. Village idiot of the year.

Every department needs one. Just for a point of contrast. To make us feel somewhat better about ourselves. Or as a mirror in which to see ourselves, reflected back.


The farce’s farce. What the farce watches to amuse itself.


Even the comic relief need comic relief. Even the slapstickers enjoy slapstick.


I think Boner was sent from the future to save us.

From what? Intelligence?


Dear, sweet Hardon – where would we be without your questions?


Questions, always questions, hard boy. An inquiring mind! Always eager to learn!


Fuck stick. Mr Stiffie. Tentpole Tudor. Morning Wood. Every day’s a school day. Love truncheon. Donkey schlong. King Dong.