Saturday, August 29, 2026
So many times we launch into something because it seems to cure our desire. But how often do those saving, “answered” prayers become menacing?
Did Henry Ford realize that his piston-driven automobile would end up destroying the climate? Did Hitler realize that his nefarious plans would unify the world against tyranny, spark global rebuilding, and eventually bring down the Berlin Wall?
Nobody wants to admit they don’t know enough about the good guy’s “great ideas” or the bad guy’s “malignant intentions.” Oppenheimer unleashed the potential of splitting the atom. To expose the greatest power on earth and use it as a weapon is insane. Brilliant scientist or menacing psychopath? You show me the difference.
The line between the sane and the insane is absurd. It is insane to sing a song when the world is bungled. It is baffling to write a poem when the mortgage is past due, or to write a book about a wizard boy while on welfare. It is preposterous to have a dream that seems unbelievable, and then, when it comes to pass before your very eyes, to say, “I can’t believe it!”
Do you know enough to judge the world? Consider the fine line between the sane and the insane. In an asylum, the only one who is insane is the doctor.
That arbitrary line of judgement is hard to pinpoint when humanity’s “straightest lines” always warp over time. How do you know evil isn’t good, or that good isn’t evil? Even Bernie Madoff lived like a king; he avoided decades in a cell because he was murdered. Hitler committed suicide. And even the good die, sometimes young.
It rains on the just and the unjust alike. Who gets to judge whom the sun shines upon?
It’s insane to sit “on high” and judge insanity.
I prefer to be dumbfounded. If that’s naive, then call me insane.