Moore loves art, but his view of art is cynical, and here too he is unlike Nietzsche; he says:
"Art is not nature. Art is nature digested. Art is a sublime excrement" (p. 178).
Both believe in the coming of a great social deluge. George Moore says:
"The French revolution will compare with the revolution that is to come, that must come, that is inevitable, as a puddle on the road-side compares with the sea. Men will hang like pears on every lamp-post, in every great quarter of London, there will be an electric guillotine that will decapitate the rich like hogs in Chicago" (p. 343).
Ideals are regarded as superstitions, and belief in ideas is deemed hypocritical. George Moore says:
"In my heart of hearts I think myself a cut above you, because I do not believe in leaving the world better than I found it; and you, exquisitely hypocritical reader, think that you are a cut above me because you say you would leave the world better than you found it" (p. 354).
The deeds of a man, his thoughts and aspirations, which constitute his spiritual self, count for nothing; the body alone is supposed to be real, and thus after death a pig is deemed more useful than a Socrates. Continues Moore:
"The pig that is being slaughtered as I write this line will leave the world better than it found it, but you will leave only a putrid carcass fit for nothing but the grave" (p. 353).
Wrong is idealized: