IDEALS OF A DEGENERATE

AN ESSAY ON THE "MUTATED OPTIMIST" (WITH A SUPPLEMENT OF SOUND ADVICE)
Everything is relatively harmless, as we all know. Nothing is as drastic as it seems to be and every disaster is soon forgotten with the promise of new treats. In that respect, the human race can easily be likened to dogs-- which is a positive point, by the way. We are quick to wag our tails and always ready to paint in ecstasy. Every “boo-boo” can be soothed with a Milky Way bar or a cigarette, a trip to the Bahamas, a free gift bag of make-up samples or a fancy drink with a little umbrella. Remedies come in all the various shapes and sizes to cradle each of our very unique fantasies. Cures are hardly the problem. They are all over the place and we like nothing more than to try them out. We are all optimists at heart, you see-- except for a small number of pessimists. But even they extract a form of happiness at being able to frown mysteriously at the world. Most of them are pompous idiots, of course; few of them actually are the sensitive geniuses that they all believe they are.
Optimists, pessimists-- none of these are really worth troubling about. The world will always have its fair share of assorted nuts, and civilization, quite frankly, would not be as rich without them. (And if this diversity of freaks doesn’t “float your boat,” you are most likely an evil person).
However, let us not assume that we must tolerate absolutely everyone with enthusiasm. We are allowed to be irritated at an occasional waiter with an IQ of three or the sudden onslaught of 14-year-old “recording artists” who are force-fed to us with all the brutality of modern mass media. In fact, there are plenty of people to hate with an immaculate conscience-- and I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce you to yet another option: the mutated optimist.
This particular character is like a mosquito bite on society’s back-- at the most inconvenient spot, where nobody can scratch it. He is the sort of man whose favorite invention is the plate with divided sections so that the corn doesn’t mingle with the frankfurters. The sort of man who stands in his semi-detached house and can’t decide what deserves more of his pride: his matching patio furniture or the automated sprinkler system.
On Sundays he refuses to wear anything other than his brown jogging suit (it is Sunday after all and so to hell with ties and shirts [yes, to hell!])-- and feeling snug and radical in his comfy attire he pays a visit to his neighbor and chats to him about the economy.
There is an eternal summer in his brain. Tropical birds fly from tree to tree while beautiful people in togas speak to dolphins. Lions cuddle rosy-cheeked children and lovers giggle while holding hands in the glittering sunset. Yes, his ideals are more shocking than the Marquis de Sade could ever have hoped to be.
And perhaps worst of all, he has a sense of humor. A sense of humor that is most apparent in his annual family newsletters where he describes camping trips and house renovations with such a harrowing attempt at mirth that one is almost forced to consider it a work of art, because such blatant perversions can only be a sad, sad accident or a razor sharp masterpiece of sarcasm (one should keep these newsletters, in any case, for proof of what the human race is capable of).
SOUND ADVICE
If, after having studied the above, you should find that you are closely related to a mutated optimist, try to remain calm. The shock of realizing that your wife or husband, uncle, aunt, brother or sister is a mutated optimist is, of course, always hard to come to terms with. However, you must avoid panicking and instead try to surreptitiously move to Texas (unless already living there, in which case a different state ought to be chosen).
However, I must caution you never to throw a mutated optimist out of your home or expect him to move to Texas. You would then run the risk of being politically incorrect, which must be avoided at any cost.
If you should find that you are a mutated optimist then you’re in a bit of a fix, to say the least. Although, you could try to remedy your situation by simple things such as substituting your annual camping trip with a whale hunt or becoming a fanatic of some sort-- mushroom fanatics are always a safe bet. Or, for those who are not ready to invest a lot of time or money in therapeutic adventures, you can always start by buying an obscene bumper sticker or growing a full beard.