Riders on the Scorn

Well, the poll is now closed. And the world's favourite liquid is:

Powdered Soup (with a third of the total votes)

Thanks to all that voted. (I think I can extrapolate world tastes from nine people)

The winner was no big surprise. I considered omitting it from the list, as it was a clear favourite. Still, it was fun. The turnout was at least higher than for the local elections, and we can all take comfort in that.

Votes for Mahmoud Ahmadinejad were not counted.

***

It's an odd day today. I feel slightly dislocated. I'm sure I must be located. And I can make an educated guess as to where. But I feel weird.

I'm definitely here - I can be sure of that. I'm not over there. I'm looking over there now, and I can't see myself. I could be hiding, I suppose, but I'm not a naturally deceptive person.

I'm pretty sure I'm here.

Maybe I'm misplaced, rather than dislocated. I'd rather misplace my shoulder than dislocate it. But it's difficult to misplace your shoulder ("Oh, there it is. At the top of my arm.")

I feel like I'm in the eye of a storm. Or the calm before the storm. Or the calm before the eye (except after 'C').

Or my favourite mixed metaphor (from one of my dad's patients, I think):

The storm before the teacup.

The teacup is looming on the horizon like a china elephant.

Of course, there is no storm. I'm not in a twinkle or the apple of any eye whatsoever. Fiction has taught us to believe in peaks and troughs, and trials and setbacks, and obstacles to be overcome.

But life's not really like that. It's just a big plain flat plain flowing steadily and predictably, like a machine-gunned cow bleeding slowly to death.

Ha-ha! That was a very miserable image! I was quite pleased with it though. Sometimes depressing ideas are so much fun to develop that they relieve all depression and become quite uplifting!

That's why I don't like the conventional idea of heaven. It would be horrible if everything was good and peaceful and pleasant ALL THE TIME. Misery and corruption and squalour add spice and flavour to the world. I wouldn't want to be without toe-stubbings and stabbings and stobbings (aka sobbing in stockings).

Filth and depravity is a necessary component of an enjoyable life. Of course, that means that this life - real life - is actually heaven.

Isn't it great?

I think that's what optimism truly is: appreciation of the negative. Anyone can be optimistic about new-born foals and ice-cream and love. It takes true, disinterested, optimism to get a daily boost from the existence of whooping cough.

And it makes me smile from ear to ear.