Musing

The man who accumulates is inexorably inferior to the man who creates. We have totems of success in America that can only be appreciated by the cruel,
capricious, and diabolical. We have no placard for the imperfect man, no reward for truthfulness. Honesty has become a failing, a lack of couth, a sign
of poor upbringing. If everyone encountered satori out of wedlock, marriage might stand a chance. To look upon a loved one's shortcomings with satire is to
accept them. Anything else, the want of change, is solipsistic, self-serving, and unrealistic.