To look down at the simpleton, the bumpkin, the knuckle-dragging troglodyte and to proclaim to yourself, or to others, “What an ignoramus,” is to give evidence to the world, and to yourself, that you are in all likelihood an even worse ignoramus than the person whom you’ve just castigated.
For one of the most salient signs of our own ignorance is our proclivity for distracting ourselves from our own woeful shortcomings.
The man who scoffs at the easy target, the equivalent of shooting into a barrel of dead fish, betrays his desperate need to keep his psychological warts and carbuncles hidden in darkness. Thus he is eager to judge others while remaining complacently ignorant of his own egregious defects.
Comedians who poke fun at the insanity and tomfoolery of Britney Spears, Michael Jackson, and other reliable tabloid fodder reveal themselves to be, at best, comedians of a mediocre stripe, for the truly exceptional comedian is an unwelcome prophet whose brutal honesty disarms the most educated audience and makes them take inventory of their own foibles.
But to laugh with those mediocre minds who spend their idle time launching fusillades at self-destructive celebrities and other obvious targets of their ilk is to partake in the orgiastic bloodbath of ignorance and to reveal yourself a very crude and most likely incurable ignoramus.