Glass half full or glass half empty?

Glass half full or glass half empty? It depends what you’re drinking. If it’s John Chilwell’s turnip grappa it is never empty enough, on the other hand if it’s anything that doesn’t strip an Essex girl’s make-up off before it hits her lips – it’s probably half full – or it could be that if you’re Greek you may have lost patience with any form of optimism and you’ve simply gone out, got bladdered and thrown the glass in the fireplace in disgust.

It does seem that in this new world disorder– Pollyanna may have finally been the victim of a hit and run. Perhaps she had all her shares invested in a finance company as strong and trust-worthy as an old hay barn. An old hay barn in Christchurch.

It could just be that we are seeing the rise of the age of the Pessimist – Eeyore (the symbolic leader of the movement) may finally triumph over the epoch of Pollyanna positivism that frankly bordered on a cult like following of the power of thinking REALLY NICE THOUGHTS. All the time.

Under the Reich of Right thinking conflict is ‘negative energy’, asking difficult questions just brings everyone down and looking at feasible ways a project could possibly go pear-shaped before committing all your time and money was tantamount to heresy.

I’m guessing here but I bet Terry Serepisos wishes he’d had a few Eeyore like book-keepers around pointing out where the possible bummers might lie further up the road instead of surrounding himself with bankers and society show ponies who just kept nodding their heads and tossing their manicured manes at him.

Much as I hate to admit it, Annie was cute with the way that she’s always betting her bottom dollar that the sun will come out tomorrow. But what if it doesn’t?

You have to question the odds. Why put money on something as fickle as weather? Not after this summer anyway. And the bottom dollar? Shouldn’t she go and buy a thimble full of Fonterra milk with that last one?

It’s people like Annie that have gotten us into this global financial meltdown! There’s a reason why the sugar Daddy is Daddy Warbucks. A gilded era of unbounded optimism leading to a run on unsecured credit and the ensuing instability only being sorted out by a bloody great war – whereby someone who makes guns or sells food will be the winner at the end of the day.

I like the idea of a steady resilient hope – it’s just that I think we’ve been won over by her poor cousin; feckless and lets face it: clueless unbridled optimism.

Bullied into submission by the ‘power of positive thinking’ the natural worriers amongst us have had their input side-lined in favour of the bright and eternally happy believers who want us to think they are what they think themselves into being.

Kim Dotcom is an excellent example. Hire a private jet to make people think you are rich. And you will be. Look rich enough to buy your way into a country. And the gates will open. An optimist will see this as proof that positive thinking works. A pessimist will see this as proof that neither positive thinking or money prevents anyone from being an egg. Nor does it prevent them from doing dumb things with their money once they have it.

Come the revolution Pollyanna and Annie will be shot. As examples to all those others who believe in the power of positive vibrations. Failing that I condemn them to half a glass each of John’s turnip grappa. That should sort them out.

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