The Liberal Artist at Leisure

From where I’m standing, the unemployment line this day seems infinite. With no apparent origin, the procession enters from an outer corridor, follows the perimeter of the vast, fluorescent waiting area, and eventually flows into a dun-grey sea of hair and overcoats. Their lumpy, Spam-like faces and bodies seem to emit pungent fumes, a stench of predestined defeat. They must represent the ranks of the unfit in Darwin’s scheme.

No temporary bout with professional ill-fortune, however unsettling, will convince me that I am one of them. I remind myself that I was an editor and, prior to that, a student of ancient and medieval history—yes, a man of letters … a liberal artist! My immunity to the virus floating among the huddled figures in this room should be a certainty.

RB

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Richard Bayan

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From where I’m standing, the unemployment line this day seems infinite. With no apparent origin, the procession enters from an outer corridor, follows the perimeter of the vast, fluorescent waiting area, and eventually flows into a dun-grey sea of hair and overcoats. Their lumpy, Spam-like faces and bodies seem to emit pungent fumes, a stench of predestined defeat. They must represent the ranks of the unfit in Darwin’s scheme.

No temporary bout with professional ill-fortune, however unsettling, will convince me that I am one of them. I remind myself that I was an editor and, prior to that, a student of ancient and medieval history—yes, a man of letters … a liberal artist! My immunity to the virus floating among the huddled figures in this room should be a certainty.