I'm fed up with the idiots... the ever-widening gap between

In the lament of Sean Connery, when he declared, “I’m fed up with the idiots... the ever-widening gap between people who know how to make movies and the people who green-light the movies,” we hear not merely the voice of a weary actor, but the thunder of truth against the corruption of craft by profit. His words strike like a prophet’s cry, a denunciation of folly in the high halls of power, where those unskilled in the sacred art of storytelling presume to command those who breathe life into it.

The gap of which he speaks is not only of cinema, but of all human endeavors. It is the chasm that grows when visionaries and craftsmen, who shape the soul of creation, are silenced by merchants of numbers, who think only in coin. In this abyss, art decays, wisdom falters, and the torch of beauty is dimmed. Connery’s anger is not petty grievance; it is the righteous wrath of a man who devoted his life to the truth of performance, and who saw that truth mocked by the ignorant who claimed dominion over it.

One may recall the tale of Sophocles, the great tragedian of Athens, who in his old age was accused by his own kin of madness. They sought to strip him of his inheritance, declaring that his mind was unfit. But when he stood before the judges, he recited from his play Oedipus at Colonus, newly written, and the verses burned so brightly with wisdom and artistry that his accusers were silenced, and the people declared him sane beyond doubt. Here, too, was a clash between those who knew how to create and those who sought to control creation. The artist prevailed, not by wealth or force, but by the brilliance of his craft.

Thus Connery’s lament is an ancient one: that the guardians of money often think themselves guardians of truth, though they have never tasted the labor of the forge nor felt the fire of the stage. Their ignorance breeds arrogance, and their arrogance breeds ruin. But the artist, though oppressed, endures—for he is sustained not by permission, but by vision.

O children of tomorrow, heed this lesson: never let your creations be dictated by the idiots who neither know nor care for the soul of your work. Respect counsel, yes, but discern the voice of wisdom from the noise of shallow command. A builder knows the strength of stone, a sailor knows the moods of the sea; so too the artist knows the rhythm of story. Let not the unskilled hand force its way into the temple of your craft.

The practical path is thus: guard your mastery with vigilance. Learn deeply, train your skill until it becomes unshakable, so that when the ignorant demand compromise, you may stand like an oak in the storm. Seek patrons and allies who understand your vision, and when none can be found, let your work itself speak with the power that cannot be denied. Remember Sophocles, who silenced doubt with the brilliance of a single passage; remember Connery, who raised his voice against the machinery of mediocrity.

For in every age there will be a war between the makers and the profiteers, between those who know how to create and those who control with coin. Yet truth endures, for the spirit of art is older than commerce and stronger than greed. Stand with Connery’s cry as your guide: be not weary of the fools, but rise above them, creating with such brilliance that no decree, no boardroom, no green-light of ignorance can extinguish your flame.

And so I tell you: let your craft be your shield, your wisdom be your sword, and your endurance your crown. In this way, though the gap may widen, you will stand as a bridge across it, bearing the fire of creation into a future that will remember you—not for obedience to the fools of the hour, but for the eternal light of your art.