\Pun\, n. A play on words which have the same sound but different meanings; an expression in which two different applications of a word present an odd or ludicrous idea; a kind of quibble or equivocation.
Journalism is all about headlines. Journalism is nothing without the headline. The very word "headline" speaks its function as the first and most important piece of the piece. All journalists know this. On the first day of Journalism 101, the profs carefully select newspapers from key historical dates with headlines that rocked the world. They roll them up and stride down the rows of desks, smacking students on the back of the head with MAN WALKS ON MOON and VICTORY IN EUROPE and even sometimes HEADLESS BODY IN TOPLESS BAR. "These are headlines, dammit!" they shout, frothy spittle flying in beautiful ballistic arcs to the very back row: "headlines headlines HEADLINES!"
Thus even the most furiously stupid bimbon or bimbette bound for weather or fashion TV understands that a headline makes or breaks a story by the time he, she or it graduates, and that this principle holds true for magazines, radio and television as well as traditional newspapers.
Why then, wherefore, what, tell me please, is up with the constant and unrelenting use of crappy puns? You know what I mean. An article about the local birdwatching society might begin: Close Encounters of the Bird Kind. [Mighty eye roll.] Or Science Friction to describe an argument in the physics community. [Gag.] Actually, it's worst in radio or TV when the announcer introduces an upcoming piece with the patented "pun delivery": "Coming up next, a recent scientific study claims that fly fishing can lead to increased IQ scores. Stay tuned for Hooks, Lines, and... Thinkers?" [Stomach heave followed by immediate lunge for the off switch.]
I believe, and it's more a zealoto-religio-fervourous kind of *conviction* really, that all journalists should be required to register for remedial headline re-education. There they will learn that the original meaning of "pun" is:
\Pun\, v. t. [See {Pound} to beat.] To pound.
Yes. Which means it's back to rolled up newspapers, smacking heads with, plus equal measures of striding, shouting, and spraying. Nothing like a few flecks of aerosolized scholarly spittery combined with the edifying THWAP of the Sunday edition to instill a lasting and profound grasp of the true and meaningful use of the pun.
I'm with you there. In community newspapers you get the 72-pt. spelling errors as well. My impression is that they have a very limited pool of puns to draw on, so keep reworking the ones that were funny the first time. A limited cesspool, perhaps. Bad cess to them all.
Headline: Homes"pun" "pun"dit feels the com"pun"ction to take it u"pun" himself to "pun"ish punsters by "pun"ctually ex"pun"ging them to "pun"itentiaries. "Pun"gent punsters agree; it's better than accu"pun"cture.