My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Friday, May 24, 2013
A Word of Caution to the Armchair Radical
You say radical things, proposing such revolutionary ideas, ideas glamorous enough to invite a bit of awe, but not so glamorous as to compel a following. It is a comfortable role, the armchair radical. Whatever will you do if someone wants to join this movement, to make it really move? Be careful what you say lest you be believed.
Labels:
belief,
conviction,
enthusiasm,
politics,
questions,
roles
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment