With a Thousand Million Questions About Hate and Death and War

I wasn’t particularly a fan of the Moody Blues, but I did always love specific songs. Question, of course, being a favorite. Lyrics are special to me, and good ones—that is to say resonant ones, personally relevant ones—stick in my head forever, coming up when circumstances echo what meant so much to me the first few times I really understood what was being sung.

And questioning is mightily valuable. It’s a companion to wonder. Kids are excellent at it, if sometimes a little meta. Sometimes the game is just to see how far you can drill down with more questions. But it starts with a desire to find out about a bit of the universe.

And, whether we stand frustrated with the baffling problems of suffering and cruelty or amazed at how deeply we can love things, art begins with them, and often doesn’t try to answer.