Quarantining  Creativity

A candle in the center of the table wicked as Jood sat and contemplated; the question had been asked yet again by the Abelian High Council. They always asked a question along the same lines every few generations. However, Jood had never been so conflicted: he turned on his projector machine and re-played their message.

“Major; this is high-council. Research indicates that one of the planets that you hold jurisdiction over -- Earth – is rapidly falling into critical condition… The planets health is declining at absolutely astonishing rates largely because of excessive pollution from the industrious human species. Do we now have permission to purge humanity, for the sake of the planets resources?”

* * * * *

A long time ago, Jood was assigned to be the High Guardian of planet Earth. He was a Major of the High Council himself, and managed a multitude of planets as High Guardian. Earth was located in the Milky Way galaxy: far, far away from the Abelian planet of Artem, which is where Jood had contentedly resided for thousands and thousands of years, observing the universe through his telescope.

Most Abelians carried on throughout their entire lives without even a mere thought about other planets, like Earth, in the universe; the vast majority typically were too busy to learn or care.

While most knew nothing about the planet, Jood knew everything about it. He was the guardian of the planet and he fulfilled this obligation with utmost passion. His official duty was to regulate the well being of the planet. By maintaining the health of the planet, Earth could be utilized by the Abelian High Council when dire circumstances presented themselves to the Abelian race in times of war or famine.

Whenever the Abelian High-Council asked Jood if it was necessary to purge the human race in efforts to preserve the resources offered by Earth, Jood consistently spared humanity even though they drained superfluous resources. Typically the explanation he gave them was that “human beings are vital to the planet’s ecosystems”, and are, “proving resourceful.” It was always a complete lie after around their 17th century; he had just grown a soft spot for humanity because human beings possessed something radically intriguing to him: creativity.

No other life form known to Abelians had creativity. In fact, no Abelian had ever come to neither learn of it nor appreciate its manifestations. Although Abelians had almost fully mapped out the universe, had mastered almost every property of science, and had achieved immortality: creativity was completely unbeknownst among Abelians.

Jood wrestled over what he was meant to make of it -- creativity -- on a constant basis.

He speculated, through comparing Abelians and Humans, that there was a correlation between a lack of efficiency and an existence of creativity: imaginations and feelings and such slowed humans down and made them behave insensibly, whereas Abelians made consistent and pragmatic progress without creativity hindering them with mental weakness.

However, Jood also understood why humans deemed creativity beautiful: it provoked thought, propounded by an encouraging of art, complexity, emotion, opinion, imagination, and overall: individuality.

But in watching the history of mankind unfold through his telescope, Jood steadily became more and more unsure if creativity blighted humans much like humans blighted their planet. He knew the power of creativity and all of its awe; Jood constantly lost himself in deep existential thought after staring at The Persistence of Memory by Salvador Dali, he had watched from his telescope with admiration as Van Gogh painted The Starry Night from inside of an insane asylum.

Jood also watched Van Gogh shoot himself in the chest in an attempt to take his own life, blighted by his creative mind, and Jood watched Van Gogh as he suffered until death because his self-inflicted gunshot missed the heart.

Jood watched as the psyches of his favorite humans – the most creative and ingenious minds of mankind – were first persecuted and executed by religious fanatics and then later debated in school classrooms because of something as simple as possible homosexuality. Whilst these figures were debated in classrooms, Jood watched as icepicks severed the frontal lobes of equally great minds because they let their creativity and imagination blight them with feelings of what humans called “madness.”

Jood watched similar atrocities across the great body of water humans called the “ocean” as one creatively ingenious mind used his power to put creative minds to death: gassed or burnt alive over something as simple as a different religious belief. He watched as weapons of mass destruction were invented by creatively ingenious minds and used to kill masses of innocent civilians and young males in absolutely insensible wars.

While creativity gave Jood reason to spare humans from being purged by the Abelian High Council, the reaction of humans to it as if it blighted their mind unsettled Jood. It was as if they both feared and revered creativity. It was definitely the most powerful force on their planet. It could be used for malicious as well as beautiful purposes. With or without creativity Jood was sure that humans would do nothing but fight until their planet just ran out of resources.  It was a matter of time.

* * * * *

The candle wicked, and Jood thought.

As of yet, they’ve gone no farther than their solar system. They are no doubt intelligent enough to eventually learn space travel, and they will then pose a threat. But how serious of a threat can they even be? I mean, lets be real, they celebrated landing a rolling computer on their neighboring planet! It’ll take generations for them to get off Earth, and by then all of its resources will be drained.

“Do we now have permission to purge humanity, for the sake of the planets resources?” The message was on loop.

After all this time, Jood was still unsure about what to make of creativity; would it blight Abelians or might it amuse them without the qualms it gave humans? Can an Abelian even possess creativity? Was Jood creative for appreciating creativity?

His thoughts began to loop. Jood paused the message.

​

Pragmatically: the purge was necessary.

Creatively: creativity could be worth introducing to the High Council.

​

Jood began recording his response to the message, “High Council, this is Major Jood. I now believe that if we do not purge the human race from planet Earth, then the planet’s resources will suffer because of their impact. However, there is something to be learned from these intelligent animals. Before they invented their machines, before they fought their great trivial wars, they created Art. They are rather harmless, and this Art of theirs could be a very profitable business. I recommend delaying the purge and exploring this opportunity for more a profitable revenue of resources rather than simply wiping them out.”

Soon enough, a transmission came through to Jood, “Roger that, Major.”

* * * * *

After some time, the purge happened.

It was sad to see humans go.

Art was not a profitable business, it turned out. Abelians simply did not understand what paintings or poems ever meant; it confused them. Once Jood realized that no Abelian was delighted by creative ingeniousness but instead simply became confused by it, Jood knew that the purge had to happen. He did not want to risk blighting his own people with something so powerful.

However, now that Earth was uninhabited by mankind, he became rather bored with his job. Jood took care of a multitude of planets, but humans were the best part of being a High Guardian. There were some pretty sights to be seen in the natural phenomenon’s taking place in Earths ecosystems: sunsets on Earth looked creative in themselves; they were but watercolor paintings upon the sky.

No painters lived under the sky, though, and so the purge upset Jood greatly.

* * * *

One day, in all his misery, Jood tried to paint.

He had been on the telescope all day, looking at nothing interesting, and so he tried to paint a sunset. Seeing as Abelians had no knowledge of paint, nor any business of selling any quite apparently, Jood left his home for the first time in over a decade and went out to create some paint.

After much trial and error, the job was done. The paint wasn’t easy to make, it took a lot of different attempts to craft paint, and it took a lot of effort to collect the color combinations that Jood wanted. He wanted to paint a sunset from Earth but with the full color pallet of the Abelian iris.

He had learned how to paint after all of his observation of Earth.

Attempting the grace of Michelangelo, he began to paint.

He definitely didn’t paint as gracefully as Michelangelo, but the experience was almost as exhilarating as watching him paint the Sistine Chapel. When his makeshift brush full of makeshift paint touched the makeshift canvas he began to feel as if humans weren’t so foolish in believing in their Gods. He began to feel the power of Art.

From then on, Jood painted everyday. It interfered with his work to a serious extent. Rather than staring through his telescope, he sat next to it and painted and painted. Only occasionally could he be the same type of High Guardian.

Eventually, he became a skilled painter and a bad High Guardian. All throughout his home were framed canvases; creativity had begun to blight him.

He wanted to stop, but he couldn’t.

Every time he began to paint he felt creativity course through his veins with feelings of utter ecstasy and fervor. Every time he completed a painting, he felt accomplished, and every time he made a meaningful painting it made him think.

Unfortunately, Jood began thinking about Abelian society.

​

How can such a beautiful thing as Art not rivet one? How can creativity be so foreign? What do we Abelians even live for?

​

Now that he had been exposed to his creative ability, Jood was unable to live without Art. He was deeply angered by fellow Abelians for their inability to appreciate it, and he was constantly confused about himself for being so enthralled by it.

* * * * *

After some time, Jood made the mistake of painting his telescope. He had long been thinking of the idea, but he didn’t know what to paint on it. He decided to paint an abstract array of colors in the fashion of the cosmos.

Initially it seemed like a good idea and for the next few years it pleased him. However, when the Abelian High-Council paid a surprise visit, Jood regretted it gravely.

“Major, why have you defiled this telescope?” asked the supreme leader of the Council.

“I have not defiled it, sir! It is Art! I did it because I was going mad sitting here for all of this time with nothing to do”

“Sir Jood, you are mad if you think this ‘Art’ is appropriate.” With a disdainful inspection of his many canvases framed throughout the place, the supreme leader relieved Jood of his duty as a Major and a High Guardian.

* * * * *

Committed to an asylum for much of his life, Jood lived happily ever after.

Although no ordinary Abelian empathized with his artistic blight, those in the asylum did. Surprisingly, to Jood, most of the patients in the asylum were actually creative. One boy, far too early in his life to be locked up in such an institution, painted in a manner that eerily resembled the Cubist style of Picasso.

Together, they created masterpieces.