No

Yesterday was the day when almost everything I look at looked like I was standing in front of a bad painting.

The painting's for sale in a red-hot gallery with a prestigous reputation. I had a plastic glass with red wine in one hand and the price list in another. I looked at the painting with enough art history in me to know that it doesn't matter what it means.

I could have made that painting, I thought as I looked at the painting. Therefore I decided not to buy it.

Because I'm a nice guy to everyone but myself, I didn't say anything. The gallery owner might hear me, or the artist himself. I didn't want to spoil the party.

When I arrive home, I start reading the Sunday Times, which by this time is yesterday's paper. There's a great piece by Edward Hoagland, "Pity Earth's Creatures," in the Review section, that pretty much nails the historical moment.

Taking Hoagland's idea that it looks like we're in the process of wiping out what we've known about nature and are closer and closer to wiping out nature itself (It's a steeplechase, hell for leather and exhilarating, for the highest stakes, but not knowing where we're going), I allow myself the luxury of thinking that I've helped save the planet as I know it by not buying the painting. 

Yesterday was a day when it felt good to say "no," and today is a day to reflect upon that feeling.