The notable priest Lawrence Lovasik once said, “A sarcastic person has a superiority complex that can be cured only by the honesty of humility.” Fyodor Dostoevsky once opined that sarcasm is “…the last refuge of modest and chaste-souled people when the privacy of their soul is coarsely and intrusively invaded.” Oscar Wilde called sarcasm “the lowest form of wit.” Yeah, like those dead guys know what they’re talking about. I believe sarcasm to be an attribute, not a character deficiency. In my mind, sarcasm is more misunderstood than nuclear power. Take a moment to clean up after your spontaneous spit-take and read on…

First off, there are very few actual sarcastic people in the world. By this I mean as that a character trait, it rarely dominates the personality of an indvidual to the extent that he or she exudes sarcasm all waking hours. An individual skilled in the art of sarcasm picks and chooses his spots, waiting for the right time to slice through the banality. However, a truly sarcastic person doesn’t alter his approach for the crowd- so what if they’re guileless or — gasp — easily offended? No matter. A well-placed, biting remark is its own reward. Hey, I didn’t say sarcastic people aren’t self-serving.

Sarcasm is often mistaken for mean-spiritedness. This is (mostly) a fallacy. It’s simply an off-kilter way of expressing oneself in what has become a fairly annoying world. I’m not a doomsayer. The world is actually experiencing more relative peace right now than in the past couple of centuries, the crime rate in the US is about half of what it was 40 years ago and we’re winning the war on drugs handily…okay, sometimes I can’t control it. But we do have 24-hour cable news networks that insist on affixing the “BREAKING NEWS” label to virtually every story, PED and concussion scandals rocking our sports and, of course, the first family of vapidity, the Kardashians. Furthermore, we seem to have lost our collective sense of humor since 9/11. Repeatedly being told that our way of life is under constant seige — real or imaginary — seems to have fatigued us. Plus, everything seems to be 35% less funny during a recession. Sarcasm is commonly referred to as a defense mechanism. The above-mentioned demerits on society are a collective assault on my refined sensibilities; a little biting wit provides some armor to deflect their negative effects on my psyche.

While sarcasm can be a psychological weapon for some, it is more useful as a tool to point out absurdity. For instance, I was waiting in line at the DMV the other day. A guy behind me was loudly complaining to his girlfriend that the location was the worst to which he had ever been. He pointed out the long line, the inefficiency of the employees and the cramped confines of the location. Finally I turned to him and asked him, “What are you expecting when you come to the DMV? A foot massage?” I couldn’t really tell if the couple was put off or amused by the comment and, quite frankly, I didn’t care. His whining was stricty boilerplate DMV stuff and was doing nothing to enhance my experience. Seriously, the DMV inhabits the same spot on the complaint spectrum as airplane food and mothers-in-law. Far too often, we lapse into our own rigid, predictable patterns of the how we view the world. Sarcasm can provide a jolt to our sensibilities, provoking thought and humor (okay, that’s a best-case scenario).

While sarcasm is continually under siege, people often fail to point out the irony that most people actually enjoy it. Look at any late night talk show monologue. They’re dominated by sarcasm. Hmmm…perhaps it goes down more easily in the wee hours? Letterman, Leno, Fallon, Conan, Kimmel all display acerbic wit frequently. On Saturday Night Live‘s “Weekend Update” skit, there’s a segment called “Really?!?” in which anchor Seth Meyers chooses a newsmaker and aims the full force of his snark on the target. To wit: “Really, Arnold Schwarzenegger? You had an affair with the maid in your house. You know, when powerful people have affairs they usually put a little effort into it. I mean, really. Secret rendezvous, high priced call girls. What did you do? Just sit in your recliner and point at your weiner whenever someone walked into the room?”

While I think my sarcasm does provide levity to those around me at times, I suspect that it’s tolerated more than appreciated. To be sure, sarcasm isn’t an attribute that inspires warm, fuzzy feelings. Yes, it occasionally crosses my mind that perhaps my energies would be better served attempting to improve a situation rather than be caustic about it. Oh, yeah, I’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you?