Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Children are not Interesting

I dislike when people say children are deep.

Children aren't deep.

Children are simple.

Sure children can be smart, just not actually... "smart for a child", much in the same way a little-league team can be good at baseball but would be handily crushed by most major-league teams (except those jokers from whatever city we consider to be our rivals, am I right fellas?) or a six year-old might excel at painting — while there's no simple standard for judging artistic talent I feel it worth noting that for every "child prodigy" there seems to be an elephant who's supporters are equally enthusiastic.

What I imagine is likely the case, when such claims are made as "my son just said the most profound thing, he said 'if some people have more money than they need why don't they give the rest to other people?'" it's generally made by someone who spends so much time with their child that they have to justify this effort by convincing them-self the child isn't simply repeating something from television, or what is more likely true, exposing their vastly inadequate grasp of a humanity in which acquiring sex and twelve-year-old scotch is not yet a concern.

Or maybe the parent's standards have been skewed by the almost constant exposure to the retarded logic of a group of (yet-to-be) people who respond mostly to things that fall down, over-generalized statements, and broad facial gestures.

But most egregiously, when someone says children are deep, or wise, or like unto the Buddha, what's  being said is, "because of something obvious or counter-intuitive a child has said, I have ascertained or been able to reinforce an insight I've entertained that I think is just so damned clever and because people often respond poorly when I start a conversation with the words 'I just had a deep thought', I must preface the point with the phrase 'you know, kids are smarter than we think'".

This isn't to suggest people shouldn't tell children they're insightful, because clearly children need to be lied to — just like women, police officers, and everyone else.

But saying a child is deep demeans us all.

Wisdom and depth is not innate.

Parroting a deep thought does not imbue the speaker with substance anymore than sending a photo of Chagall's La Mariee to your printer makes you an influential twentieth-century Russo-French artist who wears a funny sweater in the photo they used for his Wikipedia entry.

Depth is in our ability to fathom a complex truth — or unravel an almost-pun so self-satisfying for the author it boarders on onanism.

It's much like saying "God created a beautiful landscape because when we look at this lake we are moved by it's beauty."

A lake is not inherently beautiful.. or maybe it is, but on its own a lake is not beautiful, we must recognize the beauty in it (or not... some lakes suck).

But I am certain, when we find the beauty in a lake, we are mistaken to applaud the lake (and even more so to praise god — which ought to go without saying) as it is our ability to identify beauty that ought to be lauded... to say nothing of appreciation.