Well-bred insolence…

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Aristotle taking sage counsel from Freddie, circa. 335 BC

“… fond of fun and therefore witty, wit being well-bred insolence.”

Aristotle ~ Rhetoric, Book II

Aristotle knew a thing or two about man – his strengths, his flaws, his hopes, his fears. Such understanding brings an awareness of how to engage, in order that man performs at his best. Understanding desire is the key to success in communication. It takes talent to extract the best from people. It takes talent to truly understand what they want.

And thus I introduce Freddie – man of many talents in the field of communication and beyond, a fine observer and commentator on modern and ancient Life, a man in possession of the most erudite wit I know, a sharp mind and an effective lightness of treatment… all of which surely epitomizes Aristotle’s well-bred insolence.

If you haven’t checked out his blog at Oomkenscom I’d heartily recommend you do so. It too takes talent – and experience – to apply intelligent insight and entertain whilst still provoking thought… and it takes character to do so with what I think is an admirable deftness of touch.

Aristotle also said:

“…all the valuable qualities that youth and age divide between them are united in the prime of life.”

Amen to that, say I.

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3 Replies to “Well-bred insolence…”

  1. Aristotle said: “There are three prominent types of life: pleasure, political and contemplative. The mass of mankind is slavish in their tastes, preferring a life suitable to beasts; they have some ground for this view since they are imitating many of those in high places. People of superior refinement identify happiness with honour, or virtue, and generally the political life.”

    I am uncertain about this praise for the political life. But I wholly subscribe to the idea of honour, even if it is a dangerous quality oft misapplied…

    But at any rate, life of itself is meaningless without self-knowledge. And contemplation inevitably involves the self.

    Whether praise is a good to be applauded when it is conferred on the self is another matter.

    I must spare my own blushes.

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