Up until yesterday I was traveling with a guy that thinks he's an art aficionado.

We were standing looking at the copy of the statue David in Florence, which sits adjacent to the Rape of the Sabine Woman and other notable statues.

The area was mobbed.

"Look at all these people, sitting in front of those statues with such history and they don't have a clue."

How does he know they don't have a clue?

............................................

Me? I'd never heard of the Rape of the Sabine Woman statue. When I went home I googled it, interested to know what this grotesque was -

I think you are a snob, it comes across in your rambles. Way too often you delve into "deep," issues and indicate that you are the keeper of the flame. 

Now and again you get kicked squarely between the legs for being so self-absorbed, and to be fair - you normally admit it and apologize. 

It still doesn't get away from the fact that your Inner Snob bursts forth way too often. 

..................................................

I was in Turkey - with an American. 

A Kurdish guy spoke to us, and as soon as the American guy got a chance, he said to him - 

"Erdogan is at The White House, Trump will withdraw his offer to arm the Kurds." 

The guys face dropped. 

A few minutes later I asked the American to quit making unnecessary and inflammatory claims ( he did that elsewhere on the trip too ). 

"Why don't you let me by myself?" 

So my Inner Bastard let rip. 

"What are you, furking stupid? wandering into foreign lands and discussing inflammatory subjects? It's got fork all to do with you and if you were a wise man at all you would let the locals talk without you passing an opinion." 

I disagree, i would wouldn't i.

The teacher in me was never i know, it was always let's find out.
New things arose, things i did not know.
This is interesting, let's research more.

I think that is not snobbery.

It is demanding, i never said i know, even if i thought i did. I was delighted to be proven incorrect and to go for more.

The kids knew that.

I hope you do.

As my father used to say to me,
"You always want the last word and i give up,".

I give up bleth.

Who among us can claim innocence before this statue? 

Most of the prix who think the rest of us don't have a clue are educated idiots.

If they had any "real" intelligence they would put their talents to good use, instead of lecturing us plebs on the way we should be thinking.

(present company excepted, of course)   

LUCY

by: William Wordsworth (1770-1850)

I.

STRANGE fits of passion have I known:
And I will dare to tell,
But in the lover's ear alone,
What once to me befell.

When she I loved look'd every day
Fresh as a rose in June,
I to her cottage bent my way,
Beneath an evening moon.

Upon the moon I fix'd my eye,
All over the wide lea;
With quickening pace my horse drew nigh
Those paths so dear to me.

And now we reach'd the orchard-plot;
And, as we climb'd the hill,
The sinking moon to Lucy's cot
Came near and nearer still.

In one of those sweet dreams I slept,
Kind Nature's gentlest boon!
And all the while my eyes I kept
On the descending moon.

My horse moved on; hoof after hoof
He raised, and never stopp'd:
When down behind the cottage roof,
At once, the bright moon dropp'd.

What fond and wayward thoughts will slide
Into a lover's head!
'O mercy!' to myself I cried,
'If Lucy should be dead!'

II.

HE dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:

A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and oh,
The difference to me!

III.

TRAVELL'D among unknown men,
In lands beyond the sea;
Nor, England! did I know till then
What love I bore to thee.

'Tis past, that melancholy dream!
Nor will I quit thy shore
A second time; for still I seem
To love thee more and more.

Among the mountains did I feel
The joy of my desire;
And she I cherish'd turn'd her wheel
Beside an English fire.

Thy mornings show'd, thy nights conceal'd,
The bowers where Lucy play'd;
And thine too is the last green field
That Lucy's eyes survey'd.

IV.

HREE years she grew in sun and shower;
Then Nature said, 'A lovelier flower
On earth was never sown;
This child I to myself will take;
She shall be mine, and I will make
A lady of my own.

'Myself will to my darling be
Both law and impulse; and with me
The girl, in rock and plain,
In earth and heaven, in glade and bower,
Shall feel an overseeing power
To kindle or restrain.

'She shall be sportive as the fawn
That wild with glee across the lawn
Or up the mountain springs;
And hers shall be the breathing balm,
And hers the silence and the calm
Of mute insensate things.

'The floating clouds their state shall lend
To her; for her the willow bend;
Nor shall she fail to see
Even in the motions of the storm
Grace that shall mould the maiden's form
By silent sympathy.

'The stars of midnight shall be dear
To her; and she shall lean her ear
In many a secret place
Where rivulets dance their wayward round,
And beauty born of murmuring sound
Shall pass into her face.

'And vital feelings of delight
Shall rear her form to stately height,
Her virgin bosom swell;
Such thoughts to Lucy I will give
While she and I together live
Here in this happy dell.'

Thus Nature spake -- The work was done --
How soon my Lucy's race was run!
She died, and left to me
This heath, this calm and quiet scene;
The memory of what has been,
And never more will be.

V.

SLUMBER did my spirit seal;
I had no human fears:
She seem'd a thing that could not feel
The touch of earthly years.

No motion has she now, no force;
She neither hears nor sees;
Roll'd round in earth's diurnal course,
With rocks, and stones, and trees.

Seems apt.