My wife says I am a pessimist, having a predominant disposition to see the worst aspect of things or believe that the worst will happen in most situations. I say I am a realist. I just subscribe to Murphy's Law: "If anything can go wrong, it will go wrong." I also happen to believe that Murphy was an optimist. Experience has trained me that everything wears out and falls apart sooner than it should, and the enemy no longer make spare parts for the thingy you haven't gotten your money's worth out of yet. To survive, one must always expect the worst and gain an occasional happy surprise, rather than always expect a good outcome and always be disappointed.
My recent round of pessimism is rooted in the abomination called "computer." You spent a truck load of money on a device of dubious character only to have it betray you at the first opportunity. All the optimistic experts and all their gadgets cannot restore order to the world when a "1" in the binary universe decides to betray its nature and become a "0."
"Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,"*
At such times, the only thing that is able to restore sanity is a little Bach.
* Yeats, William Butler. "The Second Coming." 1919
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