mpbrockman wrote:Jeff wrote:To put it one last way: Yes, I Believe Even Billy Graham Is, In Some Sense, An Artist...
A bullshit artist.
This thread has gotten too fucking weird in the last few pages. I'm out.
By all means let's be open-minded, but not so open-minded that our brains drop out. -R. Dawkins
That sounds kind of harsh. I was only clarifying, because clearly I was not understood correctly. I don't think that my attempt at clarification indicates any danger of my brains dropping out.
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Also, Shakespeare said it better, more artfully, than I did. The point is, it can be humbling. And even enlightening. To remember. That things aren't just The Way Things Are. Things are the way we make them, out of our own crazy ideas. Every person is contributing some performance or creation. I don't think that notion is "too fucking weird." It's not the original topic of this thread, but I already said I wasn't talking about that. Here's Shakespeare saying what I mean:
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
And if someone wants to consider themselves an artist, that's they're prerogative. They may do that. They may also not see themselves as an artist. I think that's all that matters, on the subject of this thread. Some people take issue with the concept or word "artist," and some people have broader definitions for it, while others have more strict definitions for it, and they are welcome to all of that as well. It's all fine. I believe I'm an artist, myself. I don't want a cookie for that title. It's just a title I'm comfortable with.