Life & Wisdom Quote by Charles Farrar Browne

A question that trips over its own shoelaces on purpose: "Why is this thus? What is the reason for this thusness?" Browne, writing as the deadpan humorist Artemus Ward, isn’t searching for truth so much as lampooning the performance of searching for truth. The gag is the redundancy. The second sentence pretends to clarify the first, but only rephrases it with even more fuss, turning "thus" into the mock-philosophical "thusness". It’s a parody of serious inquiry, the way a certain kind of public thinker (or pompous lecturer) can inflate a simple confusion into a grand rhetorical act.

The specific intent is to puncture authority by mimicking its cadence. Browne’s era loved oratory, lectures, and self-improving seriousness; the lyceum circuit was basically 19th-century infotainment with a moral mission. Ward’s voice thrives in that environment by sounding like it belongs, then quietly sabotaging the whole premise. If the question feels like a toddler’s "why" dressed up in a frock coat, that’s the point: it reveals how often "deep" questions are just anxiety in formalwear.

Subtext: the world is full of situations that are absurd, but the more amusing absurdity is our reflex to demand a tidy explanation. Browne isn’t anti-curiosity; he’s anti-pretension. The line makes intellectual posturing audible, then makes it impossible to take seriously, which is exactly how satire clears the air: not by answering, but by exposing the silliness of the way we ask.