No Matter How Useful We

The Urge To Grow And Develop, Present In All Forms Of Life, Becomes Perverted In The Bisy Backson's Mind Into A Constant Struggle To Change Everything (the Bulldozer Backson) And Everyone (the Bigoted Backson) Else But Himself, And Interfere With Things He Has No Business Interfering With, Including Practically Every Form Of Life On Earth.

The Christmas Presents Once Opened Are Not So Much Fun As They Were While We Were In The Process Of Examining, Lifting, Shaking, Thinking About, And Opening Them. Three Hundred Sixty-five Days Later, We Try Again And Find That The Same Thing Has Happened. Each Time The Goal Is Reached, It Becomes Not So Much Fun, And We're Off To Reach The Next One, Then The Next One, Then The Next.

The Main Problem With This Great Obsession For Saving Time Is Very Simple: You Can't Save Time. You Can Only Spend It Wisely Or Foolishly. The Bisy Backson Has Practically No Time At All, Because He's Too Busy Wasting It By Trying To Save It. And By Trying To Save It, He Ends Up Wasting The Whole Thing.

But Down Through The Centuries, Man Has Developed A Mind That Separates Him From The World Of Reality, The World Of Natural Laws. This Mind Tries Too Hard, Wears Itself Out, And Ends Up Weak And Sloppy. Such A Mind, Even If Of High Intelligence, Is Inefficient. It Drives Down The Street In A Fast-moving Car And Thinks Its At The Store, Going Over A Grocery List. Then It Wonders Why Accidents Occur.

Eeyore Religion Says That The Earth Isn't Worth Saving, Anyway, And That When It Comes To An End, The Faithful Will Be Transported Instantly To Heaven. No Problem. We'd Like To See Them Explain Things To Saint Peter At The Gate, When He Asks Them What They Did With The World That God Entrusted To Them. That Might Get A Bit Sticky.