Every problem delivers its own gifts. The person who predicts those gifts is either a sage or a fool. People who lament our present as the end of a wondrous past are lauded while those who proclaim the opportunities born of suffering are seen as callous. But the readership of this blog has fallen so precipitously due to ill treatment by its author that a certain freedom is granted. Perhaps it is a Zen question: “If a Pollyanna trumpets gratitude and no one hears it does the village idiot make a sound?”
What the hell. Contrarianism is often (but not presently) an American value, and it is an honor to traffic with those who proclaim that the emperor has no clothes. Especially when the emperor is a cynic with a sallow mind. Purposeless anonymity has its virtues.
Over the next days we will discuss all the gifts that are being delivered to us in our present misery. The points raised may be awful and wrong. But I believe it is far better to be wrong in the service of opportunity than right as part of the problem. At least it is more fun.
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