Scientific Proof That Kurt Cobain Was Right

I've always thought that 'positive thinking' was a load of crap, and not just because it was shoved down my throat in school. The whole concept that 'if you think you are something, then you become what you are' is so childish and silly that everyone who has ever said it, and meant it, should have large hammers dropped on their toes. If you were sick and went to a doctor and she said 'Well, I don't have a medical degree, but I wake up every morning believing I'm a doctor' you'd run screaming from the room.

(I once had a 'heated' discussion with an instructor at journalism school who kept espousing a version of this, saying that if you think you are a journalist, then you are journalist, and I countered with No, you are a journalist if report on something and it gets published and you get paid, other than that you are just a person writing notes. This was years before the rise of the blogs, where anybody just can call themselves 'media' by writing about their cat's last trip to the vet and what they had for lunch yesterday. Excuse me while I get some toast to dab in this egg on my face)

Now there's scientific proof that positive thinking is not only bad for you, it's bad for the nation. (OK, as scientific as a professor of sociology can be, but I'm going to assume that white lab coats were worn and microscopes were peered into, which is close enough). The ability to foresee potential disaster and plan for it is a crucial for survival, while the optimistic, always look on the bright side view can leave you blind-sided when something terrible happens.

The writer of the article (not the book) takes on The Secret, which has to be one of the stupidest ideas ever. You know our civilization has taken a hard right turn off the track when people can make millions selling this inanity and people follow it. Of course, we should blame Oprah, who has promoted The Secret and is due for some good blaming and finger wagging. (The article also mentions a woman diagnosed with breast cancer who wrote in to Oprah to tell her she is forgoing treatment and relying on positive thoughts to pull her through. Oprah, to her credit, told her to smarten up and get back to the doctor pronto and cut this 'healing with mind' crap)

I missed most of the 'low-carb' diet craze since I was living in Japan at the time, and being in a foreign country does grant you a sense of perspective on your homeland. (Mostly that perspective alternates between 'Ah, sweet, sweet home' and 'Wha tha fu...') I thought the low-carb diet was the ultimate solution to weight management -- if you were eight years old. You can have a double bacon cheeseburger and lose weight, just hold the gross vegetables and the icky bun. If only some diet guru had been able to prove that ice cream and chocolate cake lead to weight loss, we would have reached the promise land (wheezing for breath and clutching our chests, no doubt)

(Cultural note -- the low carb diet never took hold in Japan, as other trends usually do, mostly because the Japanese can't give up eating white rice and my wife, who is the spokesperson for the entire country, thought the whole thing was nutty and stupid. Then again, this is a country where the concept of 'vegetarianism' means no beef, which you can discover for yourself if you ever order a bowl of 'vegetarian' noodles and find a big piece of pork floating in it.)

The connection between low-carb diets and The Secret (and lottery tickets and TV shows such as Deal or No Deal and believe it or not, the upcoming National Bingo Night which is exactly what it sounds -- bingo on TV. Look for CBS's Go Fish Tournament on the autumn schedule) is that we want everything but we don't want to, you know, work for it. We want to eat T-bones and fried eggs and lose weight, we want wealth by guessing a few numbers, we want a perfect life just by thinking about it. What, I have to watch what I eat or I'll get fat, I have to wake up every morning and slog to a job I hate to make money? Screw you! That' s not right. I'm a special snow flake, a beautiful colour in a rainbow, I'm unique! My Grade Three teacher told me so!