CHUCK LORRE PRODUCTIONS, #424
Sometimes when I hit a particularly bad golf shot, I find myself looking for the ball where I want it to be, rather than where it most likely is. On a personal level this could be written off as a harmless bit of wishful thinking. But on a macro level, it reveals an evolutionary character flaw that has Darwinian implications. What are the long term survival chances of a species that is unwilling to see things as they are-when "as they are" is not how it wants them to be? The answer, of course, is slim to woolly mammoth. In fact, it's a hop, skip and jump from a missing Titleist to mass extinction. We want to believe that nuclear weapons will not fall into psychotic hands. Or that if they do, heroes will stop them. We want to believe that catastrophic climate change won't upset our plans for the weekend. And if it does, scientists will build space stations where a select few of us will live happily ever after (and that they'll need middle-aged sitcom writers with bronchitis). We want to believe that medicine will make amazing strides before we die, and we won't die. And if we do, spiritual forces will usher us into a better world. We want to believe our ball is not in the pond. And if it is, we'll knock the next shot stiff and make no worse than a bogie. We want to believe there's a flash of insight at the end of this vanity card. And if there's not, we can keep writing until we somehow twist the golf metaphor into something mildly amusing.