The great American literary critic Paul Fussell would doubtless disapprove of one of his observations becoming a public aphorism; but 'nothing depresses me so much as optimism' deserves a place in the postwar pantheon. For in a world where, even after Newton, Kant, Curie, Freud and Chomsky, gifted arts graduates raised on reason ventriloquize crap about 'being yourself' and 'finding the answers in you' and, above all 'being positive', witchcraft ordure commandeered by astrologers and management consultants and still as shitty as anything Himmler envisaged, then there really is hardly any hope at all.
if you get lucky, thank your god, quietly, shut up and run away
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