passionate

In other civilizations the artists were passionate, and to this day the best minds take in works from the past, what was decided long ago in times of yesteryear.

It is not so much like that now.

Everybody is posting their content all the time, it would seem. This isn’t that big an exaggeration, and you know what I’m talking about if you spend even a cursory amount of time on the Internet. The greatest earmark of passionate works has long been discovered by curious onlookers; now, everybody and his brother is putting something up on the Internet about what it is in his life that is suitable for casual discussion and discourse.

The best and the most passionate shouldn’t play second fiddle.

That being said, it is true that passion need not enter the discussion at all; casual passion–what passes for passion–is ignited daily, and what would seem mundane to scholars is divided on public forums as though it carried burning weight and gravity. This is regrettable, but necessary for civilization as we understand it in the West to pass into the future, a time when people’s outpouring of brazen and unschooled content will become increasingly normalized and heralded all the more as truth.

There is little to be done about this.

It would seem that we are fated to see future generations all the more empowered to join the throng and spit their commentary on formerly little seen aspects of human life as it is now and all the greater committed to the Internet. It is not so much earmarked passion as it is the digital human narrative, committed to the public eye and replicated in many places.

About passion I dare not breathe a word.

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