The most brilliant people--recognized or unrecognized geniuses--I have met, read, and admired don't hate God, their parents or the world, nor do they harbor disdain people at all (save maybe for rich people--that particular kind of rich people). They don't conform to any of the stereotypes portrayed in the cartoon in the first image, and despite an acute awareness of all that's wrong with the world, their kind eyes do not judge and do not scorn. Now there may be people who do in fact match up more or less to these descriptions and ones like it by Matt Groening, but I wonder what bitterness in his heart led to such an unlearned, general critique of Modernity.
Not acquainted with each other due to the exile of time and space, the artist whose saints, sibyls, angels and demons soar in the Sistine and the other whose eyes saw fire split men into pieces by the hundred in trenches and in streets reach to the other from ends of a globe; like the faces of Janus, they gaze--only inwardly, eyes locked. At the the center of the sphere they share: ever in sight and ever diminishing to an unseen vanishing point, a sphere whose center is at all points.
Inwardly they gaze, sights settled on that object which solely possesses all imaginable and all possible writhing and expressions of the Universe's unuttered and unknown passions: the face. The suffering face, contorted in torment, sparks in them the vigor of all ages--that drive whose appearances differ grossly to the untrained and mortal eye but remains unmistakably identical to itself when examined by the sensitive, adept hands of he who only seeks to liberate the soul from the dead matter that encases it.
Michelangelo Buonarrati. Last Judgment (detail).
1537 - 1541
George Rouault. Head of Christ
Oil on paper attached to canvas