Discontent

We are in an era of observable discontent. Former times, if not good, were tolerable, causing most of us to ignore the signs of protest. The power base of late mayor of Toronto, Rob Ford, consisted of voters who felt left out of the good municipal life. He became mayor with almost half the votes cast, more than 383,000. The system was not working for them, the former suburbs.

In Great Britain, discontent moved 17 million to vote to leave the European Union. Few guessed 62 million Americans would cast ballots for Donald Trump, the ultimate candidate of discontent.

It may be argued these results were a good thing. They alerted us a revolution may be brewing, unless changes were made.

We like to believe we live in a society blessed with equality before the law, opportunity for all to achieve financial comfort, and freedom of expression. None of these is true.

Reasonable access to the legal system is a financial impossibility. Economic benefits go to a minority. Diversity of opinion is snuffed out when all political parties present the same policies. The media censors the whole truth, publishing only what suits their agendas. They no longer observe and report, but seek to direct public opinion.

Too often we for what we dislike least.

Discontent.

Endless Happiness etc.

I am being overwhelmed with the prospect of happiness, fun and joy.

Coca-Cola invites me to "open happiness". All I need do is lift the cap off one of their products and wonderful things will gush into my life.  

The Ontario Lottery and Gaming Corporation (OLG) proclaims itself the "sponsor of fun," fun that can be mine by simply buying a lottery ticket. 

Indigo Shops (formerly book stores) offer office supplies that will help me wish "bye bye to boring," and "hello to happy." 

The Ford Motor Company promises "Endless Joy" motoring in their latest product.

When next I sip on a Coke of happiness, fantasy on my lottery ticket, deploy those boredom-destroying Indigo office supplies, and have endless joy in my Ford, I'll express due gratitude to their providers.  If only I could still my beating heart.