I don't know about you, but I only have one life, and I don't want to spend it in a sewer of injustice.

Wallace Shawn

Mots clés life injustice protest inequality occupy-wall-street laura-flanders

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. . . Yes, I’m an aesthete. I like beauty.
Yes – poor countries are beautiful. Poor people are beautiful. It’s a wonderful feeling to have money in a country where most people are poor, to ride in a taxi through horrible slums.
Yes – a beggar can be beautiful. A beggar can have beautiful lips, beautiful eyes. You’re far from home. To you, her simple shawl seems elegant, direct, the right way to dress. You see her approaching from a great distance. She’s old, thin, and yes, she looks sick, very sick, near death. But her face is beautiful – seductive, luminous. You like her – you’re drawn to her. Yes, you think – there’s money in your purse – you’ll give her some of it.
And a voice says – Why not all of it? Why not give her all you have?
Be careful, that’s a question that could poison your life. Your love of beauty could actually kill you.
If you hear that question, it means you’re sick. You’re mentally sick. You’ve had a breakdown.

Wallace Shawn

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As far as my connection to other people went, I was usually affectionate. I was usually fond of the people I met: the privileged. And I’m still fond of them. I know them well. It’s easy for me to see them not as others might see them, as a group of people who fundamentally are all the same, because as holders of privilege the all play fundamentally the same social role, but as they see themselves: as remarkably distinct individuals with different opinions, thoughts, and characteristics. I know very well that they suffer, I know that they’re lonely, they’re lost, they’re desperate, whatever.

Wallace Shawn

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