Why so serious?

The Guinness Book of Records (Mouse Edition) has a listing for longest lived mouse. He died at 2 years, 4 minutes. If you are reading this, you are not a mouse. While you might wonder what relevance this tidbit has for you, kindly read on. I'll make my point in relatively short order.

We are taught from the day we begin to display signs of comprehension that the business of life is serious stuff. This is a lie. No where is it written that to succeed in your life time, you must approach everything with a frown and accompanying dogged persistence. I see it all the time; the phrase, "time to get serious" illustrated by the wiping of any sign of happiness and contentment from present company's face and the replacement therewith of the allegedly serious face. Let me tell you a secret about being human. C'mere, I need to say this real quiet.

Your human states are decided by a regimen of chemicals called neurotransmitters (Serotonin, dopamine etc). You have no real control over how you react to the influx of these drugs into your bloodstream. Mbu, dopamine makes you excitable, serotonin makes you happy, adrenaline makes you sweat (i think) and a whole lot of other chemicals make you do a lot of other things. I've discovered in the course of my private research that business faces give many of our bosses a serotonin rush. This is a pet theory, feed it at your peril but nevertheless allow me to key you in on how this affects your working life - ever sweated through a job interview? Clammy hands, dripping nose, the works? Well, how would you feel if I told you that the panel's only purpose was to get your adrenalin flowing so they could get their serotonin rush? The job already belongs to the HR Manager's first cousin. Ponder that...next paragraph.

So if you are not in control, who is? Your mind. No, I said your mind, not your brain. Your brain is a willing participant in this hormonal binging; if anything it buys the soda for the punch. When you put your serious face on, your facial muscles are at odd with your glands and this results in depression. Depression kills...like smoking and indiscriminate sexual activity and bullets and jumping into the lion cage at the zoo and drunk driving and sleeping in room 1408 (worst way to die IaMaHO).

Truly verily you say unto me, "Make your point," and I decline.

If you are lucky, you will live to a ripe 90 years. Let those 90 be years of glandular joy and happiness. Do not let suicidal (serious) people detain you in their ki grey world. Smile all the time; people will say bad things about you but that's all envy and deficiency. Hold that smile into rictus and die in the knowledge that unlike many other corpses, you exited with a smile on your face; also take care to brush your teeth after each meal, it helps.

With that my friend, I bid you adieu. For those of you that are still seeking my point, here it is .