If you're flummoxed and you know it

The least absurd thing you'll read today

At my kindergarten, you couldn't pass by the brightly coloured classes without hearing one of the repeats of "If You Happy and You Know It". Little hands clapped slightly out of sync, and feet were stamping occasionally, depending on the version of the song. Sometimes, a kid would start singing and clapping, then have the others join in to celebrate getting a gold star for drawing a letter or being the quickest at putting toys away. Occasionally, the class would do the song to cheer on the notoriously slow eater who sometimes finished her sandwich within the allotted eating time (I will defer judgment on the then-problematic practice of demanding children stay in their seats until the last kid is finished or until everything on their plates is eaten).

The other day, the song in its most basic version kept coming to mind:

If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!

If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!

If you're happy and you know it, and you really want to show it;

If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!

I thought about the global silence that's been looming and how many of us can't hear the faint noise of a happy clap here or there. To the privileged among us — those living outside conflict zones, in areas where the climate isn't threatening survival on an apocalyptic scale, and where basic food and sanitation needs are met — there is plenty to be joyous about. Access to potable water is one such thing; guaranteed shelter is another, and so on. But I understand why happy clapping feels absurd lately, as logic is challenged on an hourly basis, and we are all seemingly held hostage at the hands of the very few who took their place in arenas that democratically should have never been available to them.

Outrage is taking residence in our heads and hearts because none of what's been happening is just, fair, or even on the spectrum of what many assumed was a humane norm. In time, those who are indifferent to or relish the pandemonium will feel the reverberations — as history repeatedly shows. I write this as someone who still dreads the echoic memory of air raid sirens.

I don't have a course of action to recommend here; that's an individual undertaking, and it is on you to determine what's within your range. But doing something is a must because going about the day completely shutting off the outside world, numbing the senses, and hyper-focusing on one's lot is a recipe for a breakdown. I write this as someone who's been there, done that, and might eventually write the book.

Which brings me to a simple proposal that is the least absurd thing you'll have read this week: I suggest we take “If You're Happy and You Know It” and derive a version that can be used when flummoxing news arrive, if only to serve as a moment of personal protest. Let’s go with:

If you're confused and you know it, clap your hands!

If you're shocked and you know it, clap your hands!

If you're appalled and you know it, and you really want to show it;

If you're outraged and you know it, clap your hands!

Clap to validate your feelings.

Clap to acknowledge that you are not okay with the extent to which abhorrent immorality has taken hold.

Clap to break the cacophony of a crowd that, through lazy resignation, tells you that this is the new normal or it could be worse, and "What are you going to do?".

And finally, clap to reset and rejoin the world around you with all your senses.

This is an AI-generated image (Adobe Firefly) following my prompt of “an illustration showing someone clapping”. Notice the unnatural and strange position of the “clapping” hands. And these are the technologies that are meant to bring on the golden age and have been replacing human skill in the big five tech companies? I ask you …