On Being the Perfect Failure.

I was just watching a film starring Nicole Kidman. When I saw a close up of her face I realised that every feature of it was perfectly formed and in precisely the right place.

I asked myself the question: Does that make her the embodiment of female gorgeousness, or the equivalent of a finely modelled plaster mannequin? I didn’t know.

So then I considered an even more difficult and fundamental question: is perfection an expression of the ultimate, or is it a step too far and ultimately flawed?

I didn’t know that either, and sometimes it’s dispiriting to be the kind of person who doesn’t know anything.