Negative Arithmetics for Losers

Simple negative numbers multiplication sometimes baffles children who first learn it in the elementary school. It is somewhat counter-intuitive that a negative number multiplied by another negative should become positive. There seems to be a violation of consistency: positive number multiplied by another turns into an even bigger positive number; so how come: negative times negative does not become a bigger negative number?

Obviously there are some obscure mathematical explanations for this, but what is more interesting is how this fact might be applicable for daily life of losers, pessimists, and other negatively inclined people in general.

Our society values optimism, progress, productivity as 'positive', while desperation, depression, pessimism as 'negative'. Let us try to use words as numbers and see if we can do the arithmetical trick for words:

Productivity with a dose of optimism begets even more productivity.

Apparently [positive] x [positive] really does = (bigger positive).

But how about negativity? Does negative attitude applied to another negative attributes might produce something commonly considered as 'positive'?

One very common trick that people usually do to overcome negativity is to compare their suffering with other people's misery. Remembering the starving children in Africa kind of crap to make our own life looks superior in comparison, thus feel better about it:

[Feeling bad] x [Thinking about an even worse situation] = [Feel better]

Arithmetics might work after all.

One of my favorite tricks to overcome negativity is to apply Frank Zappa's approach to composition, Kurt Vonnegut's approach to humor, and Gautama Buddha's approach to life: not taking things too seriously and have a good laugh at them.
Consider:

[Feeling crappy] x [Not taking it seriously] = [Having a good laugh]

Negative arithmetics rules.

But They Are Pretty!

Life,
is a big poetic lifelessness.
The verses are meaningless,
but they are pretty,
so what the fuck.

To try to be decent at all,
is a nonsensical poem.
Words upon words,
of endless absurdities.
But they are pretty,
so what the fuck.

There are some who might understand,
that there is nothing to understand.
They are nice.
Very nice.

Let There Be Holy Balloons

If I am the God:
I will pop out silly balloons
right on top of each
and every one of the six billions.
I will let their naked thoughts
streaming words into their balloons.

Ha! I will speak not very solemnly,
like a God should.
Look at yourself, people!
You and your silly balloons of thought!

People will start looking at each other's balloons
turn red, redder than their own faces.
Unable to stop laughing at others',
They are frantically trying to bust theirs.

What fun.

But some people have no balloon.
Lucky them.

Being such a leg pulling God.
On the very next day,
I will let people fart their thoughts.
The sillier the thought, the smellier the gas.
Soon enough the world would be unlivable.

Ha! I will say not at all solemnly.

But some people don't fart.
It's good to be around them, actually.
They smell rather good.

Being a God, I let myself be not a God.
I let myself be what I always am.
With my embarrassingly red balloon,
and rather smelly all day continuous farts.