Ah, the sheer cruel brilliance of it... *is slain by the irony*

Do not despair - many are happy much of the time; more eat than starve, more are healthy than sick, more curable than dying; not so many dying as dead; and one of the thieves was saved. Hell's bell's and all's well - half of the world is at peace with itself, and so is the other half; vast areas are unpolluted; millions of children grow up without suffering deprivation, and millions, while deprived, grow up without suffering cruelties, and millions, while deprived and cruelly treated, nonetheless grow up. No laughter is sad, and many tears are joyful. At the graveside the undertaker doffs his hat and impregnates the prettiest mourner.

Wham, bam, thank you Sam.

Archie, Jumpers by Tom Stoppard, coda.

Tom Stoppard is a genius - or at least insane enough to look like one. I hate this passage and yet I love it - it forces me to laugh at all the bitter irony, forces me to look at my own complacence in world that pretty much blows.