Writing is Like Painting
It is a fact that many, many folks
take up painting at some time in their lives.
Taking lessons, and practicing, a fraction of these become reasonably
good – even to the point of making sales and perhaps winning a contest or two. All the while keeping their day job. The same
may be said for writing – probably without the lessons. Both are methods of artistic expression, and
became an outlet for their active minds.
Yet, each applies dual and
independent mental channels. Both have
common features which include messaging, composition, technique, and tricks of
the trade.
Most of these people, on their
artistic journey, usually discover just how far they remain from true mastery,
much less genius. True genius is monogamous.
Some do both with varying success,
though one talent normally exceeds the other.
The best example may be Winston Churchill, a gifted writer and painter,
actually also an orator. As well, I
have a friend in California gifted in both these orthogonal directions (MKM).
Quote of the Day
“There is no problem the mind of man can set that the mind of man cannot solve.”
― Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)
“There is no problem the mind of man can set that the mind of man cannot solve.”
― Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)
Dr. Johnson, while this is a
wonderful statement quoted many times and even in a Sherlock Holmes movie, “Dressed
to Kill,” it is quite untrue. I will
report more on this later, in a piece called “Impossible Problems.” It is quite possible to pose many questions
or problems that have no solutions.
Opinions and conjectures, yes, but no solutions or resolutions. I'll show you how to make impossible, seemingly erudite, questions. They can be philosophical, economic, political, and other topics.
Mistakes vs. Counter-Mistakes
A gross and over generalized reading
of historical conflicts seems to indicate that where there was a reasonable
parity of opposing resources seems to indicate the winner obtains partly due to
brilliant actions the one and deplorable mistakes by the other.
Victory in conflict seems to involve
a total contemplation of options, a combination of tactical and strategic
decisions, and a resolve in those decisions.
It is nearly a scholarly effort with intellectual considerations and a
practicum of decisions. It becomes a balance between luck and mistakes. Luck by
the one often infers a mistake by the other.
Yet, the possibility of mistake and counter-mistake often yields
inconclusive results.
Brilliance of decisions implies and
instinctive vision of what to do in usually a rather low information
setting. It also suggests mistaken,
erroneous, and blunders by the opponent.
I would say that if one group
intends harm to another, the leader (or general) of the first should be of the
first rank. Then of course history tells us, there is the true menace – or
genius, that person who gives orders to the general and often makes
incalculable mistakes.
"I" as a rhetorical issue
When I was a kid growing up, General Douglas MacArthur (1880-1964), World War II general, was often critiqued for his famous statement upon leaving the Philippines on account of the Japanese invasion, "I shall return." His intent was noble, but the effect was not. Much of his remarkable generalship was lost to this single statement. Using the "I" is most risky when what you have done or are doing depends on the lives, blood, sweat, tears, and toil of others. Most important leaders prefer to use the collective "We."
If, as a leader, you say "I went to the parliament to demand action on this pending legislation," that is one thing. However if, as a leader, you say, "I have destroyed our nation's threat," that is quite another. Hollow and shallow it appears. It may be best not to take the credit directly when you can achieve the credit indirectly. The calculus of leadership rhetoric solely on this point is tricky.
Being articulate does not imply being intelligent. Appearing to be honest does not apply you are honest. Obfuscation is the bane of the voter.
"I" as a rhetorical issue
When I was a kid growing up, General Douglas MacArthur (1880-1964), World War II general, was often critiqued for his famous statement upon leaving the Philippines on account of the Japanese invasion, "I shall return." His intent was noble, but the effect was not. Much of his remarkable generalship was lost to this single statement. Using the "I" is most risky when what you have done or are doing depends on the lives, blood, sweat, tears, and toil of others. Most important leaders prefer to use the collective "We."
If, as a leader, you say "I went to the parliament to demand action on this pending legislation," that is one thing. However if, as a leader, you say, "I have destroyed our nation's threat," that is quite another. Hollow and shallow it appears. It may be best not to take the credit directly when you can achieve the credit indirectly. The calculus of leadership rhetoric solely on this point is tricky.
Being articulate does not imply being intelligent. Appearing to be honest does not apply you are honest. Obfuscation is the bane of the voter.
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