Potshots and put-downs.

An adage reminds us that the higher up the ladder we go, the more our posteriors unveil -- and the more the laughter ensues.

Public figures in distress breed irresistible urges for biting commentary. Among the hoi polloi, lofty station tends to solicit more ingenious forms of scorn: The higher we climb, the more is expected of us, the longer the fall when we foul up and the more bitter the sarcasm during the tumble.

Except for the masochistically inclined, no one enjoys derision at personal expense. Being exposed, getting denounced, suffering indignities, and then to become the butt of a joke - they all remind us of kindergarten emotions, the cruel taunts of children acting hurtfully.

Remember the childhood defense? Moms taught us that "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me." Unfortunately, names do hurt; and that's why our dads taught us to grab the offender by the collar and figuratively [one hopes] rip out a throat.

As adults, our well-grounded fears of arrest stop such responses: We don't want to hurt ourselves. This is also why we don't bite our tongues when the opportunity presents to cast clever aspersions on someone else's dilemma. Many of us never fully overcome the childish temptation to heap abuse on the vulnerable.

In fact, the law of supply and demand requires that we grow ever more clever. If we move in more sophisticated circles, we must invent shrewder taunts to be taken seriously. We have to get better at designing arrows to pierce the thickest hides, at the same time, of course, inventing ways to thicken our own.

Also, with the lightning speed of cell phones and the Internet, a first-class in sult makes the rounds in record time. Who doesn't receive at least one e-mail per day dedicated to dissing some poor mope who's made the limelight? More arrows for everyone's quiver. It doesn't require genius to pilfer some sharpie's insult.

Dishing it Out

Those gifted at put-downs find the temptation insuppressible. The prospect of cleverness overwhelms any consideration of consequence. Their raison d'etre is the witty one-liner. Why do they do it?

No need to wax Freudian here. It's the Everest analogy: People climb it because it's there. Potshots and put-downs flow from the lips of the able because they can't help themselves any more than those poor saps who climb mountains can resist the joy of steep slopes, avalanches and unbearable cold. The sheer joy of doing must be genetic.

A single rule governs the art of dishing it out: Always maintain deadpan and straight face. If you laugh, smirk or give a visible sign of enjoying dirt-dishing, you betray yourself as a rank amateur. True dishers know only the private pleasure of having scored.

Taking Insults

The receiving end of a really great insult typically lacks any pleasure Only idiots pretend they enjoy it. The best we can muster as a public response is a certain stoic calm, mixed with disdain, indicating. an enormous capacity, to rise above childish games. In truth, it hurts like hell.

Privately, we squirm and endlessly mull over a host of "I-should-have-saids," all the while re-assaulting ourselves for having been whipped like a heelhound. Nor does indignation accomplish squat in the aftermath. If we let ourselves get caught. up with high dudgeon (issues of one's reputation and good name, pondering how we are perceived by others, seeking redress), we only arrange another viewing of the potshot's accuracy.

We may start wondering if others see right through us, identifying our peccadilloes, in securities, minor and major anxieties. C'mon. We're not transparent. Soon enough, we'd be evolving all sorts of neuroses.

No, getting insulted is simply an occasion for letting go of resentment, discharging needless stress and exercising humility. In this regard, general rules apply.

* The closer to the truth, the more painful the taunt.

* The closer the relationship to the disher, the deeper the cut.

* The wider the circulation, the greater the effort required to endure.

* The more seriously one takes oneself, the longer the length of the sting.

* The more intense the self-pride, the more thankful the insult for bringing us back to earth.

Of course, reputation matters. We'd like those who we care about to think well of us. Never underestimate the pain writhing in the psyche if and when we lose the good estimation of those dear to us. However, we're more likely to go down that drain by executing a really awful response to being insulted. Ranting or self-pity render us even more pitiful. Indeed, the stiff upper lip is the only immediate remedy.

When all is said and done, a single reality prevails: It's better to give than to receive. So, if some nasty bastard has laid you low, take it like a mensch. Sharpen your wits, check the e-mails for usable material, and lie in wait. The universe provides. Every dog has its day. "Sticks and stones..."

Dr. Bernard G. Suran, Ph.D., is a licensed clinical psychologist and diplomat and fellow of the Academy of Clinical-Psychology and the American Board of Professional Psychology. This column is published under the sponsorship of the Quality of Life/Stress Management Committee. The committee's website is at www.fla-lap.org/qlsm. The Quality of Life/Stress Management Committee, in cooperation with the Florida State University College of Law, also has an interactive bulletin board on the web, called "Happy Lawyer is Not an Oxymoron: Health and Satisfaction in the Profession." The Happy Lawyer board, is located at www.law.fsu.edu:8080/[sim]happylawyer.