"If people concentrated on the really important things in life, there'd be a shortage of fishing poles"
About this Quote
Larson’s joke lands because it pretends to praise seriousness while smuggling in a defense of unseriousness. “Really important things” sounds like the voice of civic scolds and self-optimization gurus, the people always telling you to maximize meaning. Then he swerves: if everyone did that, we’d run out of fishing poles. The punchline turns leisure into the scarce resource, not virtue, and exposes how performative our talk about “importance” can be.
The subtext is that most of what keeps people sane, kind, and functional doesn’t look important from a distance. Fishing is doing a lot of work here: it’s wholesome, slow, mildly pointless, and suspiciously therapeutic. It’s also a classic American symbol of escape from schedules, bosses, and the tyranny of measurable outcomes. Larson isn’t arguing that fishing is the highest calling; he’s arguing that our hierarchy of value is warped when it excludes the restorative, the communal, the quiet. We romanticize productivity, then wonder why everyone’s burnt out.
As a cartoonist, Larson writes in the language of the one-panel truth: a clean setup, a single object, a reversal that makes you complicit. The imagined “shortage” is the slyest part. It implies that if people actually pursued what mattered, they’d choose less status-chasing and more time-wasting-with-purpose. The line is cynical about moral posturing, but oddly generous toward human need: the important thing might be the permission to stop trying to be important.
The subtext is that most of what keeps people sane, kind, and functional doesn’t look important from a distance. Fishing is doing a lot of work here: it’s wholesome, slow, mildly pointless, and suspiciously therapeutic. It’s also a classic American symbol of escape from schedules, bosses, and the tyranny of measurable outcomes. Larson isn’t arguing that fishing is the highest calling; he’s arguing that our hierarchy of value is warped when it excludes the restorative, the communal, the quiet. We romanticize productivity, then wonder why everyone’s burnt out.
As a cartoonist, Larson writes in the language of the one-panel truth: a clean setup, a single object, a reversal that makes you complicit. The imagined “shortage” is the slyest part. It implies that if people actually pursued what mattered, they’d choose less status-chasing and more time-wasting-with-purpose. The line is cynical about moral posturing, but oddly generous toward human need: the important thing might be the permission to stop trying to be important.
Quote Details
| Topic | Witty One-Liners |
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