If George Orwell Is Right, I Don’t Wanna Be Wrong
Oof. I gotta pace myself. Ninety-five more miles of hard road dead ahead.
Be that as it may, I’ve had my heaping helping of Sugar-Frosted Dystopias (just add Whole Skim Milk!), so now you can come at me with your pointed Internet stick. Because…
Last night I got concerned about this thing.
I mean, if I were you I’d be saying, “What’s the point? What’s this jackass getting at?”
Well, at base, I’m curious to see if I still have the creative stamina I had when I was in my 20s. The guy who wrote and drew all day. Yeah, him.
Will he make it to 100 days of new artwork, interspersed with whatever words trickle out of his subconscious?
Last night’s insomnia was punctuated by an article written in Nov. 1947 by Italian novelist Niccolò Tucci for The New Yorker profiling Albert Einstein (titled “The Great Foreigner” —it’s a great read, go check it out).
It was fascinating to see how the nascent Cold War was reflecting our situation now. The writer and the scientist talked about human rights, politics, and society. Then, blowing me away, Einstein said:
“Only a noble soul can attain true independence of judgment and exercise respect for other people’s rights, while any so-called nobleman prefers to conceal his vulgarity behind such cheap shields as an illustrious name and a coat of arms. But, you see, in Plato’s time and even later, in Jefferson’s time, it was still possible to reconcile democracy with a moral and intellectual aristocracy, while today democracy is based on a different principle — namely, that the other fellow is no better than I am. You will admit that this attitude doesn’t altogether facilitate emulation.”
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