At the end of a long day that more often than not involves wrestling with the demons of ignorance and the gremlins of stupidity, your mind is funky with an aftertaste of liberalism so fetid it would gag a barn fly and the last thing you want to ingest is another steaming pile of asshattery. What you need is a palate cleanser of sorts – and what better way to freshen the intellect, the heart and the spirit than with a generous scoop of Sorbet for the Mind.
He’s one of – if not perhaps THE – most misunderstood artists of the late 19th century and it was the tragedy of his life that gave rise to the still enduring meme of the tormented artist starving in a barren, ramshackle garret for the sake of his craft.
The greater tragedy was not so much that Van Gogh suffered from what most likely was a form of bipolar disorder, but the fact that medical science at that time was still too primitive to diagnose, much less treat, this devastating mental illness.
Knowing this makes Don McLean’s 1972 classic “Vincent” so much more poignant.