I was on stage last night, and I gave a medical report about

Hear the jest of Mort Sahl, master of satire and wielder of truth disguised as laughter: “I was on stage last night, and I gave a medical report about Donald Trump. I said he was hospitalized for an attack of modesty.” Though clothed in humor, these words cut deep into the heart of character, for they remind us that wit is not merely entertainment but a mirror held to the powerful. In speaking of Trump’s supposed “attack of modesty,” Sahl does not praise humility, but mocks the absence of it. He points to a figure known for pride, for boasting, for self-display, and imagines such a man stricken with the rare and unfamiliar affliction of modesty.

The meaning is sharp yet playful: humor can reveal what plain speech cannot. Modesty, in the true sense, is the tempering of one’s greatness with humility, the restraint of one’s pride for the sake of dignity. Yet in leaders who revel in their own glory, modesty is as rare as a sickness, and to see it is as surprising as a medical emergency. Sahl, with his gift of satire, takes what is lacking and presents it as though it were too much to bear, turning absence into irony. In this way, the joke becomes a judgment, and the laughter becomes a lesson.

Satirists throughout history have wielded such weapons. Consider Diogenes of Sinope, the ancient cynic philosopher, who carried a lamp in daylight, searching for an honest man. His act was absurd, yet within it was a truth sharper than any sermon: honesty was so rare that one had to hunt for it as though it were hidden in darkness. In the same manner, Sahl’s words about an “attack of modesty” tell us that modesty in certain leaders is so foreign that its appearance would be unnatural, even dangerous to them.

There is also wisdom in remembering that the jest is aimed not only at Trump, but at all who fall into the trap of arrogance. Leaders of every age have been undone not by enemies, but by their own pride. Recall the story of Xerxes of Persia, who ordered the sea itself to be whipped for defying his fleet. His arrogance blinded him, and his empire suffered defeat. Had he been stricken with an “attack of modesty,” perhaps his people might have been spared. Sahl’s joke echoes this ancient warning: unchecked pride leads to folly, and folly leads to ruin.

Yet laughter softens the blow of such truths. By framing his critique as a “medical report,” Sahl draws his audience not into bitterness but into mirth. Through humor, he opens the door for reflection without the sting of anger. This is the gift of satire: to teach through laughter, to heal through jest, to disguise sharp medicine in sweet taste. In mocking the absence of modesty, he reminds us that true strength is found not in constant boasting, but in the quiet confidence that needs no parade.

The lesson, child of tomorrow, is this: let not pride consume you. Do not wait until you are mocked for lacking modesty; instead, cultivate it in your heart. Modesty does not mean denying your gifts, but carrying them with grace. Respect others, even in your greatness, and let your deeds speak louder than your boasts. For history remembers not only the conquerors, but also the humble souls whose restraint made them beloved.

To live by this teaching, learn to laugh at yourself, as Mort Sahl laughed at the powerful. Accept that humor can be a light upon your flaws, and let it guide you to wisdom rather than offense. Seek to balance confidence with humility, achievement with modesty, and leadership with self-restraint. For it is better to be remembered as one who was quietly strong than loudly arrogant.

Thus, Mort Sahl’s jest endures: “Hospitalized for an attack of modesty.” It is not only a joke about one man, but a timeless reminder that humility, though often mocked, is the rarest and most necessary medicine for the human soul. May you carry this medicine with you, lest pride make you the subject of satire in ages to come.