CHANCE

I happen to hate New Year’s celebrations. Everybody desperate to have fun. Trying to celebrate in some pathetic little way. Celebrate what? A step closer to the grave? That's why I can't say enough times, whatever love you can get and give, whatever happiness you can filch or provide, every temporary measure of grace, whatever works. And don't kid yourself, it's by no means all up to your own human ingenuity. A bigger part of your existence is luck than you'd like to admit. Christ, you know the odds of your father's one sperm from the billions, finding the single egg that made you? Don't think about it, you'll have a panic attack.

The Horror

If you’re one of those idiots who needs to feel good, go get yourself a foot massage. What the hell does it all mean anyhow? Nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nothing comes to anything, and yet there's no shortage of idiots to babble. Not me. I have a vision. I’m discussing you. Your friends, your co-workers, your newspapers, the TV. Everybody's happy to talk, full of misinformation. Morality, science, religion, politics, sports, love. Your portfolio, your children, health. Christ. lf I have to eat nine servings of fruits and vegetables a day to live, I don’t want to live. I hate goddamn fruits and vegetables. And your omega-3's and the treadmill and the cardiogram and the mammogram and the pelvic sonogram and, oh, my God, the colonoscopy! And with it all, the day still comes when they put you in a box and it's on to the next generation of idiots who'll also tell you all about life and define for you what's appropriate. My father committed suicide because the morning newspapers depressed him. And could you blame him? With the horror and corruption and ignorance and poverty and genocide and AIDS and global warming and terrorism and the family-value morons and the gun morons! "The horror," Kurtz said at the end of Heart of Darkness. "The horror." Lucky Kurtz didn't have the Times delivered in the jungle, then he'd see some horror. But what do you do? You read about some massacre in Darfur or some school bus gets blown up, and you go, "Oh, my God, the horror!" And then you turn the page and finish your eggs from free-range chickens. Because what can you do? It's overwhelming. I tried to commit suicide myself. Obviously, it didn’t work out. But why do you even want to hear about all this? Christ, you got your own problems. I’m sure you're all obsessed with any number of sad little hopes and dreams. Your predictably unsatisfying love lives. Your failed business ventures."Oh, if only I'd bought that stock!" "If only I had purchased that house years ago!" "If only I had made a move on that woman." If this, if that. You know what? Give me a break with your "could haves" and "should haves." Like my mother used to say, "lf my grandmother had wheels, she'd be a trolley car." My mother didn't have wheels. She had varicose veins. Still, the woman gave birth to a brilliant mind. I was considered for a Nobel Prize in physics. I didn't get it. But, you know, it's all politics, just like every other phony honor. Incidentally, don't think I’m bitter because of some personal setback. By the standards of a mindless, barbaric civilization, I've been pretty lucky.

b e a u t y

But it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once and it's too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst. And then I remember to relax... and stop trying to hold on to it. And then it flows through me like rain, and I can't feel anything but gratitude... for every single moment... of my stupid little life.

I Take Soma

There's always soma to calm your anger, to reconcile you to your enemies, to make you patient and long-suffering. In the past you could only accomplish these things by making a great effort and after years of hard moral training. Now, you swallow two or three half-gramme tablets, and there you are. Anybody can be virtuous now. You can carry at least half your morality about in a bottle. Christianity without tears-that's what soma is.

Phony

Lawyers are all right, I guess - but it doesn't appeal to me. I mean they're all right if they go around saving innocent guys' lives all the time, and like that, but you don't do that kind of stuff if you're a lawyer. All you do is make a lot of dough and play golf and play bridge and buy cars and drink Martinis and look like a hot-shot. And besides. Even if you did go around saving guys' lives and all, how would you know if you did it because you really wanted to save guys' lives, or because what you really wanted to do was to be a terrific lawyer, with everybody slapping you on the back and congratulating you in court when the goddam trial was over, the reporters and everybody, the way it is in the dirty movies? How would you know you weren't being a phony? The trouble is, you wouldn't.

The Right Person

Juno MacGuff: I'm losing my faith in humanity.
Mac MacGuff: Think you can narrow it down for me?
Juno MacGuff: I guess I wonder sometimes if people ever stay together for good.
Mac MacGuff: You mean like couples?
Juno MacGuff: Yeah, like people in love.
Mac MacGuff: Are you having boy troubles? I gotta be honest; I don't much approve of dating in your condition, 'cause well... that's kind of messed up.
Juno MacGuff: Dad, no!
Mac MacGuff: Well, it's kind of skanky. Isn't that what you girls call it? Skanky? Skeevy?
Juno MacGuff: Please stop now.
Mac MacGuff: [persisting] Tore up from the floor up?
Juno MacGuff: Dad, it's not about that. I just need to know if it's possible for two people to stay happy together forever, or at least for a few years.
Mac MacGuff: It's not easy, that's for sure. Now, I may not have the best track record in the world, but I have been with your stepmother for 10 years now and I'm proud to say that we're very happy.
[Juno nods]
Mac MacGuff: In my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person will still think the sun shines out your ass. That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with.