There’s hope for optimism

Optimism is hard to come by this autumn. Don't confuse it with hope, in any case. In the best of circumstances I agree with Elbert Hubbard: optimism is "fatty degeneration of intelligence." In any circumstances I remain with Oscar Wilde: "The basis of optimism is sheer terror." In the present circumstances the terror is sufficiently palpable to remove occasions for that fatty degeneration.

How do I sustain a light heart this autumn? By 5:58 a.m. I daily dash back into the bedroom to turn off the alarm before my spouse's radio invades with news of the Asian economy, the Washington scene, Laramie, Bosnia, the NBA strike, etc. I scan the newspapers.


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