Cassandra’s Curse

(photo from here; http://www.skepticworld.com/ancient-artifacts/baghdad-battery.asp)

You have to feel for the guy who invented the battery. And I am not talking about Allesandro Volta, who made his own version around 1800.  I am talking about the work of some anonymous inventor archeologists dug-up in what is now known as Iraq.

That’s real genius right there. But, of course, no one recognized that for what it was. Volta, at least, got his name on the measure of electric potential. And I am pretty sure, the man who invented the wheel got accolades from his own tribe-mates. After all, his invention made moving that wooly mammoth carcass that much easier.

The battery? What good was it when flashlights, transistor radios, and i-pods were yet to be invented? Not for another two millenniums, at least. The man was way ahead of his time.

That is often the predicament of being ahead of the curve. You have to give the world some time to keep in step.

Like knowing only grief would come out of invading Iraq, the second Bush’s time, even before the first American boot set off on that ill-fated misadventure.

You declare, you cajole, you protest. You just know. But no one gets it. Not until it’s all too little too late.

Van Gogh sold only the one painting when still alive. Think about that the next time you just have to follow a trend, or buy that over-advertised and thus over-priced branded jeans. It’s often the fool that goes with the flow. It is a world, after all, that sells cow’s milk as acceptable and human milk tainted in eeew factor.

But don’t get me wrong, genius is not about being different for the sake of being different. It is not getting a tattoo so you can be original – like everyone else.

It is knowing what is good and true in yourself and trusting that voice even when no one else gets it.

It is playing the piano like the real virtuoso that you are, even when the only gig you can book is to play demo in a music store.