A Prayer for Ronald

You love McDonald's. You love their food. Ronald McDonald makes you happy. If you really met Grimace, you would hug him. You would blurt out, "I love you," and mean it. Tears would run down your face.

Only years ago, you started to rot inside. You started to doubt. You buried your love. You decided these people couldn't be trusted. Ronald is a fake. Grimace is a guy in a costume. They're just selling you burgers that are bad for you.

Yes, you'll admit you love the food, but that's not the point. They are liars, salesmen, a con.

Only they're not. They are always sincere. They mean everything they say. There is no sales job here.

Ronald McDonald is pure love. He loves you. He wants you to love him. Why would you deny him your love?

Because it hurts you. It hurts to feel. It's easier to sneer and say, "I'm an adult, goddamn it. And I don't need you, or your love, or your burgers. Screw you, Ronald McDonald."

And you know what? He still loves you. Ronald will always love you no matter how you feel, no matter what you say.

You can always go back to him. He will always take you back. Ronald will take you in his arms and hold you while you sob. And you'll moan, saying, "I'm sorry, Ronald. I'm sorry."

Ronald McDonald is Jesus Christ. He's the CEO of General Motors. He's your President, your Prime Minister. They all want your love, respect, and trust.

You can doubt them, and hurt yourself forever, if you like. But they'll always take you back. You just have to open your heart, hug them to you. They'll always take you back. Always.

Amen.

* * *

Being suspicious of everything is the modern day equivalent of being an intellectual -- and involves none of the hard thinking. It's a way of appearing to know what you're talking about, without actually having a clue.

"Oh man, you trust that corporation? You are so goddamn naive. I've read a bunch of books and seen a bunch of movies, and I know better. All corporations are evil."

That's what the cynic says. And he says it a lot. "You can't trust corporations."

Same with any government.

Same with all special interest groups.

Same with any media source.

Same with "scientists" and their research -- "The H1N1? Oh my god, come on!"

Same with "the right" or "the left" or "libertarians" or "communists" or "anarchists" -- whatever political stripe offends you.

Same with whoever else you want to look at with one raised eyebrow while pretending to have some profound insight -- one that everyone else somehow missed out on.

It so easy to destroy a reputation. "You trust THEM? How embarrassing for you."

Then the cynic collects stories proving their position is correct -- a simple task, if the sin of one particular corporation can be held up as proof that all corporations are sinful. The stories and atrocities can then be rattled off, one after the other, burying any "naive" opponent under the weight of cheerful despair.

The problem is that if you're suspicious of ALL groups, who can you rely on? Yourself, maybe. A few like-minded friends. Your own direct experience of reality can, presumably, be trusted. Your own pet theories.

Clearly fearing all those groups isolates you, makes you weak. You may as well be a caveman living in the woods, terrified of anything that moves, calling it a demon. It's superstition wearing the mask of reason, loathing for everything disguised as rational thought.

Let me be clear: I'm not apologizing for any of these groups. I'm not saying you should blindly trust the government or Pepsi. Trust needs to be earned. What has me irked is the wide-spread assumption that all organizations are evil -- every single one -- with zero evidence. It's passed off as a well-informed position based on extensive reading and thought. But really, being cynical doesn't require any effort at all.

Here, try on the philosophy for yourself. Repeat after me:

"Everything sucks!"

Simple enough?

But why not withhold judgement, until you have a good reason to be suspicious? There's a difference between being wary, and claiming everyone is out to get you. It's rushing to fear and suspicion that makes me so furious.

ENRON sucks, sure. We've got proof, there. When you have proof, it's not paranoia.

"Ah, Nik, hold on. Let me interrupt you. I'm not paranoid -- I've got facts. I have thousands of documented cases of corporate greed and corruption leading to all sorts of terrible disasters."

You know what? I've got thousands of documented cases of serial killers. Do you assume every person you meet secretly fantasizes of chopping you to pieces and eating your spleen? I hope not.

One vampiric ENRON does not mean all corporations are evil, the same way one Jeffrey Dahmer doesn't make all lonely homosexual men cannibals.

Sure, you shouldn't give strangers the keys to your house without getting to know them better. They might not be a Dahmer, but they might swipe your stereo. That level of suspicion makes sense. Wariness.

But don't scream and run every time you see someone in a hockey mask -- particularly if you're at a hockey game.

All of them -- corporations, governments, special interest groups, scientific groups, etc. -- without exception, have at least some good intentions. Sure, they might have an agenda. And you don't? They want your business, your respect, your allegiance, your understanding, your love. Sometimes, in their desperate effort to get you on their side, they'll mess up. But they need you. In their own way, they're trying to serve you.

And, dare I say it? They even love you.

* * *

Ronald McDonald sells hamburgers for your sins. His flesh is the flesh of god. Even the veggie burgers.

And yet you still scream:

"The flu shot is Hitler! All government leads to Auschwitz! Corporations are raping us in the anus! The media is feeding us our own feces! Scientists are building aryan Frankenstein monsters in their labs! It's all Satanic, Nazi garbage! Doom! DOOM!"

And then there's your love for Ronald. It's there. And if you look at it, you begin to understand that your turning away, your pretend hatred, is simply avoiding what is real. Cynicism is a perversion of love. It's a fear of getting hurt. You love Ronald McDonald.

You cry out in pain, "I want to eat that hamburger, but what if it destroys an acre of rain forest? Damn you, Ronald!"

Ronald is not perfect. Neither are you. Have some faith. Ask him to change. Realize that your insisting upon a 99 cent hamburger comes with hidden expenses -- like the destruction of the entire planet. Is that Ronald's fault? Is it your fault?

Embrace Ronald. Kiss him on the cheek. Tell him you're sorry. Let him cook you a hamburger. Eat it. Don't eat with him every day. You don't want to spoil him. Just visit once in a while.

And tell him that you love him.