George Frederick Watts really loves the allegories of Time, Death, and Judgment. The guy on the left is Time, and he’s doing a poor job dragging Death along with him. And just look at Judgment lost in the clouds, equipped with both boredom and a knife.
Let’s be real; Death is actually me when I had to share a flight of wine with a friend last week. Like, hello?, that’s what a flight issss. It gives me direct permission to drink three nearly-full glasses of gewürztraminer on my own, dude.
Only bored Judgment understands me.