Sunday, 3 February 2008
The Cynic Clinic.
Hi there. I was contemplating doing a blog about apathy but I couldn't be bothered. Somebody asked me if I was always indecisive. Well yes and no.
Then I got to thinking about doing a blog about being cynical. Okay then, it is easy to dismiss the good intentions of folks as some sinister plan to actually take advantage of us. So does everybody have a 'hidden agenda'? Please look at the lil' dude (yes it's a dude), in the picture on the left. Does he look like he would become disillusioned by an indifferent world? Maybe, just maybe, he would challenge the cynics. What about 'Tinkerbell'? You would most certainly trust her. Or, would the cynic think that people, or for that matter, mythical fairies, are all just 'wolves in sheep's clothing'? What if I were to tell a cynic that I have no 'hidden agenda'. 'Yeah right, 'course you don't', thinks the cynic.
It is a sad state of affairs, when genuine good intentions are interpreted as some sort of sinister, surreptious plot to take advantage of the unsuspecting. So what if we had a way to convince the cynic that not all people have underlying devious intentions? What if we could convince the cynic that the reason shops put milk at the back of the store, when you only wanted milk; is not because they hope you will be tempted to buy extra items. No, ofcourse the real reason is they want you to enjoy the delights of battling down some crowded aisle, skillfully dodging the congregation of folks who refuse to budge. You see, they know that you want the challenge of getting to the bloody milk. Why put it in a location that would make sense to someone who just wants milk!
Bravely and unscathed, you stagger up to the checkout counter, firmly clutching the bottle of 'cow juice'. You begin to relax as you hand over the money for the milk. Ofcourse, if you have kids, this little escapade to the store may not be quite over. Boldly on display are the dreaded sweet temptations. "Oh can we have some sweets, please oh please!" scream the little angels. Now we know that the store has located them is such a manner, not as a ploy to increase profits and torchure parents. No, what the shop is really saying is: 'Go on buy your wonderful children a well-deserved treat. It has nothing to do with our profit margin, it all about how much you love your kids.
I'm sure you realise that none of the preceding statements were even remotely cynical or sarcastic (yeah right!). However, how about a place cynics could go to reduce their overwhelming sense that the world is full of 'two-faced', 'back-stabbing' plotters? What if we could make them see that there are people who embrace altruism? So why not a non-profit, charitable organisation for cynics? The logical choice of names would be 'The Cynic Clinic'. A warm and caring ethos. Where our aim would be to help the cynic discover the goodness in others.
That's it then. The Cynic Clinic. A detox for the disillusioned. "Yeah right. I suppose you people at The Cynic Clinic expect me to believe you are as sincere as a mosquito at a blood donor centre? You expect me to believe that you are not making 'big bucks' out of it all!" states the cynic. Never mind, I suppose the concept of The Cynic Clinic would never work. Then again, maybe I'm just being cynical?