How Truth Dissolved
Pay attention here, because you are about to lose your soul. What you are told, from this point forward, will largely depend on what someone who hopes to profit from you has decided you want to hear.
Pay attention here, because you are about to lose your soul. What you are told, from this point forward, will largely depend on what someone who hopes to profit from you has decided you want to hear.
What I love are the ways the show has succeeded. Not because it is storybook happy, but because the audience response proves we are better than I thought we were. We hunger to hear a coach or boss tell us winning isn’t everything. We thirst for integrity and principle, forgiveness and kindness.
If the amateur philosopher remains undaunted, someone might say brusquely, “Ma titfalsafi,” do not philosophize. Or, sarcastically, “Yo faylasuf”: You are a philosopher. Again, not meant as a compliment.
He had me at the name. Richard J. Powell has written a gorgeous book about Black artists and their use of color, and every page leaps up at you, jolting you into attention.
After the most gruesome, tough assignments...I went shopping.
What passes for nonchalance is often cruelty, perpetrated by the few who can still afford—and wield enough power—to live easily themselves. But sprezzatura! There is a grace to it, and a calm confidence.
Artist Spencer Finch tiled the colors of Barack Obama’s life. Women will see them better than most men can.
We need to stop forcing touch—without stopping to touch each other.
Remember Abraham Maslow’s pyramid, a hierarchy of human needs that put the basics of survival at the wide bottom, then slanted up to intellectual creativity and spirituality? We wanted to locate consciousness up there at the peak. Antonio Damasio finds it at the foundation.
Is charm a form of social glue or sociopathy?