Why so serious?

You're walking down a street, a thousand problems stabbing and pricking at you, and you turn the corner almost bumping into a homeless fellow picking through the trash for some bottles or paper to sell for a few cents, (this is Buenos Aires, not New York, and the streets still are filled with down-and-outs), you are wondering how long this financial crisis is going to last, (the one that is making stock markets in New York and London and Rio bounce up and down), whether there well be more war--as happened after the depression in the 1930's--and you are also trying to bring back to mind the lyrics of a song you once sang to your girlfriend, when right before your eyes you see a question scribbled on the wall in front of you:

Why so serious?

A good question, indeed. With no immediate answer. And yet...isn't it true that we often become so serious, so dramatic, so tragic minded that we complicate even the most simple situations?