Review: Geary's Guide to the Great Aphorists by James Geary

So it’s
aphorisms you crave, is it Mr. Geary? Well here’s an aphorism for
you: Geary tends to blab about nothing in particular, and absolute Geary
tends to blab about nothing in particular absolutely.

Terse
enough for ya, Mr. Geary? Has my wit the guile, the cerebral wherewithal
to find a place in your book, sir, or is it not on par with the intellect
found inside this hardbound travesty?

We’ll
get down to it, then. If I were so compelled to, and I assure you I
am not, describe ‘Geary’s Guide to the World’s Greatest Aphorists’
in one word, it would be ‘schplech.’

It is
forgettable, unremarkable, a farce of words and phrases and names of
antiquated British men whom I’ve never heard of.

I think.

I’m
not positive, though, Mr. Geary, as I have not yet actually read your
book. But that, sir, is beside the point.

A cow
once said to me, while I was tripping on acid in a field in upstate
New York, that once the wheat is gone the beef shall commence.

Sound
familiar, Mr. Geary?

Of course
it does, or at least it should. You see, Mr. Geary, the brilliant aphorist
that he is, planted a chip into the brain of every bovine on the eastern
seaboard that taught each beast how to say aphorisms in four different
languages, English included. He did this four years prior to ‘Guide’s’
release, hoping to transfix and the general public and dupe them into
believing that aphorisms are in fact cool.

Well,
Mr. Geary, they’re not. They’re just not.

But,
Mr. Geary, as a result of your grand hoodwink, you’ve been in my head
ever since. And though I’m sure your book is fantastic, not just schplech,
I cannot be its champion.

Fool
me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

And I’m
not going afford you the pleasure of fooling me a second time, Mr. Geary.

Again,
for the record, I have never read, nor do I intend to read (curious,
is it not, that ‘read’ can be used twice in the same sentence, each
use meaning something entirely different from the other),
‘Geary’s Guide to the World’s Greatest Aphorists.’ Perhaps this
review, not Geary’s masterwork, is the greatest farce of all.

review by Terrence Doyle