George Connell

About George Connell

George Connell is an author, artist, and singer-songwriter from the Sunshine Coast of British Columbia, Canada

On a New Theory of Educability

This might cause me to become unpopular in some circles but notoriety is better than no-notoriety. The thought that appears on the horizons of my perhaps limited cognitive processes is that many of the clowns I observe in the political news of the day are horribly uneducated. Then I [...]

By |2020-08-16T15:20:51-07:00February 25, 2017|

Walls

Thoughts on arising. So much has been written and discussed about building a wall, about keeping out those who are somehow different than us. It has been put about that this wall will be immensely long and tall and thick, and that none of the undesirables will ever be [...]

By |2020-08-16T15:21:30-07:00February 15, 2017|

Untitled

At the risk of folks misunderstanding my carefully chosen words, I must share a few thoughts on how to avoid the loud and potentially dangerous pitbull that lives across the street; tethered for now, but with no guarantee on the tensile quality of the leash. In these days it [...]

By |2020-08-16T15:22:21-07:00November 10, 2016|

The Lessons of History

I'm currently hooked on repeated re-listenings (is that redundant?) of Al Stewart's magnum opus 'Past, Present, & Future'. I drive friends crazy with this habit, but I have to beat an album to death until I've worn it out. One of the most haunting pieces is called 'Last Day [...]

By |2020-08-16T15:23:07-07:00April 5, 2016|

We are all Artists

Fresh on the heels of David Bowie's passing, it might be relevant to consider the need for a comprehensive arts education for all, and more intensive resources for what the New Statesman calls the "intellectually marginal". Without the post war investment in arts education, we would have no Bowie, [...]

By |2020-08-16T15:23:57-07:00January 13, 2016|

Model my Ass

Where do you wind up when you finally come to the conclusion you really know very little about very much. If you're like me you're sitting at the kitchen table, feet cooling on a stone floor because you're too lazy to hunt down your fluffy slippers, musing yourself. But [...]

By |2020-08-16T15:24:49-07:00August 28, 2015|

Sitting on the Picket Fence, my Ass!

When I cold turkeyed myself from Facebook (FB) two weeks ago, little aware would I be of the hue and cry that would ensue (although the hue was a somewhat transparent tone and the cry was little more than a moist incipient sobbing. Truth be told I am still [...]

By |2020-08-16T15:26:20-07:00August 17, 2015|

Death of the Renaissance Man

The Renaissance Man is dead. Truly and welly well well mortadella. . . It was not a sudden and traumatic death, although many of our reactions believe it to have been so. It has suffered on the deathbed of historical perspective, something akin to the demise of the British [...]

By |2020-06-19T15:36:54-07:00August 9, 2015|

Facebook my Ass

I've decided to take the blue pill and do a Jon Stewart/Bilbo Baggins on you. Facebook has become an opiate for me, and while I appreciate a talented kitten as much as the next person, I find myself resisting the charms of domesticated animals and brutalised grammar and spelling. [...]

By |2020-08-16T15:30:43-07:00August 8, 2015|

We Exist. . .

It seems to me that good art is infinitely adaptable to any set of circumstances, whether in time or space; that it has value regardless of the social conditions that surround it. The plays of Shakespeare have been staged in any number of eras and some of the best [...]

By |2020-08-16T15:31:47-07:00May 10, 2015|