… Harry [a fisherman] scowled at a picture of a French girl in a bikini.
Fred, understanding that he seemed a bleak, sexless person to Harry, tried to prove that Harry had him wrong. He nudged Harry, man-to-man.
“Like that, Harry?” he asked.
“The girl there.”
“That’s not a girl. That’s a piece of paper.”
“Looks like a girl to me,” Fred leered.
“Then you’re easily fooled,” said Harry. “It’s done with ink on a piece of paper. That girl isn’t lying there on the counter. She’s thousands of miles away, doesn’t even know we’re alive. If this was a real girl, all I’d have to do for a living would be to stay home and cut out pictures of big fish.”
— from God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, by Kurt Vonnegut
Which begs a question:
If the mission of National Geographic really is
to inspire people to care about the planet,
then why does our Society expend 99 percent of its resources trying
to inspire people to look at pictures of the planet?