In a world of efficiency, do we still care enough to take a moment to admire eloquence? Do we still have the ability to blend beauty with the blunt knife of necessity? Rather, not do we have the ability, but do we even care enough to pursue the artistic grace of a Swift, a Milton, or even perhaps Socrates? I don't mean this as a personal reflection. Instead, I am asking whether or not beauty still matters when it comes to working through this life.
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What of our desire for excess? China one-birth laws respond to a drastic neglect of resource limits. We chase convenient efficiency, meaning machines do the work and we get paid, but that's not survival; we have just found slaves that can't complain