There's A Rule, I Think. You Get

Many Americans Think Of The Rest Of The World As A Kind Of Disneyland, A Showplace For Quaint Fauna, Flora And Artifacts. They Dress For Travel In Cheap, Comfortable, Childish Clothes, As If They Were Going To The Zoo And Would Not Be Seen By Anyone Except The Animals.

When Other People First Became Aware Of The Cow, They Expressed Concern And Anxiety. They Suggested Strategies For Getting The Animal Out Of Molly's Parlor: Remedies And Doctors And Procedures, Some Mainstream And Some New Age. They Related Anecdotes Of Friends Who Had Removed Their Own Cows In One Way Or Another. But After A While They Had Exhausted Their Suggestions. Then They Usually Began To Pretend That The Cow Wasn't There, And They Preferred For Molly To Go Along With The Pretense.

You Get Into The Habit Of Being Angry And Hurt By Life, And Then When Something Good Happens You Can't Accept It Because It Doesn't Fit The Pattern.

The Fashion Pages Of Magazines Such As Cosmopolitan Now Seem To Specialize In Telling The Career Girl What To Wear To Charm The Particular Wrong Type Of Man Who Reads Playboy, While The Editorial Pages Tell Her How To Cope With The Resulting Psychic Damage.

Most Of The Great Works Of Juvenile Literature Are Subversive In One Way Or Another: They Express Ideas And Emotions Not Generally Approved Of Or Even Recognized At The Time; They Make Fun Of Honored Figures And Piously Held Beliefs; And They View Social Pretenses With Clear-eyed Directness, Remarking - As In Andersen's Famous Tale - That The Emperor Has No Clothes.