I'm feeling down, and when i feel down there's no better cure than a Dave Eggers short short story.
This is the one i'm in the mood for.
I'm not the one to ask about this. Lately everyone's been saying, Hey, man, what's the deal? Why do all the bears of North America dislike EM Forster? And they expect me to have all the answers. Just because I hang out with some bears sometimes. It's messed up. I don't know. I don't know much, I really don't. OK, listen, this is what I know: a while ago, some bears and I were gathered at Yosemite, which is where bears sometimes gather. It's loose, it's whatever. They were all there, all the important ones, some black bears and brown bears and a few grizzlies, and they started talking about Henry James, and for some reason that led into EM Forster, and these bears just started going off. It was ugly. I honestly haven't seen them like that since someone brought up Austen. Yeah. If you think these bears hate Forster, you should hear them on the subject of Emma. Man, they hate Emma. I don't get it. So don't talk to me about Emma, or Forster, or early Dickens. God, early Dickens makes them insane. Talk about Dickens, and they start eating bark, and sometimes tyres. It's so messed up how angry they get. But if you're looking for answers, don't come to me. I can't keep up with all the questions from you people. I want to help, but I don't know how. Believe me, I wish they were more mellow about this stuff. I can say this: the brown bears are less dead-set against Austen, and the grizzlies really only have a problem with The Pickwick Papers. I don't know if that helps at all, but there it is. In the meantime, I'll keep track of where they stand on all this, and I'll make inroads where I can.
Don't you feel better now for having read that?