A thorn bush waved around in the hand of a drunkard is no worse than a proverb in the mouth of a fool.
You will be bruised all over, without even remembering how it all happened. And you will lie awake asking, “When will morning come, so I can drink some more?”
It's no cleverer to shoot arrows at every passer-by than it is to hire a bunch of worthless nobodies.
Are you going to honour a fool? Why not shoot a slingshot with the stone tied tight?