C.W. came into where I was drinking coffee just now and demanded that I come and see what he had found while surfing the net. I followed, half-awake and fully annoyed. He looked like a young Boy Scout with rusty hair and freckles, though, so I couldn’t stay mad.
He sat in front of the computer and and turned toward me. “Who was Voltaire?” he asked.
“A Frenchman,” I said, still trying to clear my head. “He was a philosopher and writer during the Age of Enlightenment.”
C.W., or “Rusty” if you will, pointed at the screen. “Look at this,” he said.
I looked. On the screen was a painting of the famous man and a quote. It said, “Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.”
“So?” I was still trying to awaken fully.”
He shook his head as if to pity me. “Don’t you see?”
“This is what is wrong with your species.”
I said, “What exactly is your point?”
“That’s not the way the advanced species of our galaxy think.”
“And,” I said, “How do they think?”
“They think,” he said, “that the goal of civilization is progress, not victory.”
I thought. Good point.