An honor to be taken for a fool.

When British novelist and essayist George Orwell was a young man, he didn’t want to appear the fool. Even though it was against his better judgment. Therefore, he shot and killed an elephant. Needlessly. He writes about the experience in an essay, ‘Shooting an Elephant.’ I read the essay the other day. And it made me think. That I’m not afraid to be taken for a fool. Doesn’t bother me. As long as I do the right thing. Later on in life, Orwell learned  that lesson, too. Fortunately. To consider  being a fool as wearing a badge of honor. One of Orwell’s first and most hated jobs was as an imperial British  police officer in colonial Burma. Anyway, a captive work elephant went on a rampage. And Orwell was assigned to bring the elephant under control. And shoot it, if necessary. Well, it wasn’t necessary. The elephant settled down and was minding business in a farm field. But a crowd assembled. And expected a shooting. Yes, a killing of the elephant. And so, Orwell concluded he’d appear to be a fool if he didn’t do as the crowd expected. So he fired away. Five shots from an elephant gun. And several more from a less powerful weapon. And then he watched as the elephant went into agonizing death throes. For a long time. In the essay, Orwell confessed. That he didn’t want to be perceived as a fool. Of course, Orwell made up for it in later life.  Lived a splendid and creative life. Didn’t matter anymore if he was taken for a fool.  –Jim Broede