August 22, 2018
When the pope locked up Galileo for a new fact that offended God, Galileo asked a couple of questions:
What kind of omnipotent god is offended by a fact?
And what kind of pope or duke or mom or dad or blacksmith or apprentice or serf or knight would be offended by a fact?
How can facts offend anyone?
How can smart people convince dumb people that brains are not spleens?
Why do dumb guys lock up smart guys for new ideas?
Obviously, this is no fun for the smart guys.
But how much fun is this for the dumb guys?
Are they too dumb to have fun? ‘Cause it’s way more fun to have a new idea than it is to kill a new idea.
Not that “dumb” and “smart” are the best ways to frame it. Let’s say curious. The curious love a good question. What’s the antonym of curious?
Whatever it is, the incurious want to squish a good question. Open questions are enemies of the closed mind.
Not that you can kill it. You can’t kill the unknown, and the new knowledge contained there is pure potential, like water behind a dam. The good ideas spring from the inevitability of potential, the eternal springs of the bright blue future, and you foil it at your peril.
Lies in Art can emerge as new truths.
Lies in Science are eventually found, and they cost the liar.
Lies in Politics are not always found, and they cost lives.
Questions in art are what art is.
Questions in science mother new science.
Questions in politics, we need more of them.
The three feet of Art, Science and Politics can dance together.
It’s better when they do: Almost everyone is happier, learns more, lives longer, and dies richer.
