I have been thinking a lot about "Art" and it's role in the human civilization and somehow I just get a feel that it's a very foolish attempt to find meanings in things that are inherently contradictory or meaning less. I really at times get so much frustrated, that I feel like saying "Dude! Give me a break".
But then as I type this passage and to this extent I realize that I have fairly, tersely and satisfactorily criticized "Art", I really can't stop myself from appreciating the very fact that it's a very good piece of work or to my sudden depressing surprise that this itself is a piece of "Art". And as you can see the criticism actually extends to ad infinitum.
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