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Sanskrit tax manual
In a recent post, I went into a Modern Art Museum in Edinburgh. I struggle with what is passed off as "Art" at the best of times. I'm sure many comparisons with the story of the emperor's new clothes have been made, so I'm going to try something different.
I went in with both Rebecca and an open mind. I even put to one side the experience where I was asked as a museum patron to actually consider a pile of cloves sitting on the floor "art". Nasal art, in fact.
I looked at them. I tried. I really tried. I didn't understand it. It made no sense to me. None at all. Rebecca made a brief, abortive attempt to explain it to me. It still made no sense to me. Then she tried explaining how this bit means that and this bit means something else. And I understood! It made sense!
Not what I was being asked to consider art. That was still ridiculous and impenetrable. No, I understood the concept. They were writing in a mutually-agreed upon coded language that makes about as much sense to me as sanskrit, phoenician or chinese. I don't know how to read it and so it won't make sense until translated. But, in these cases, once translated, they held as much interest as a tax manual. Less interest than you get from the Comm Bank. There is a good reason why I don't read literature in French, Russian or a myriad other languages: I don't understand it. Add Modern Art to the list.
A picture may be worth a thousand words, but modern art aint.
Comment from Gillian
zeugma:A construction in which a single word, especially a verb or an adjective, is applied to two or more nouns when its sense is appropriate to only one of them or to both in different ways. As in "I went in with Rebecca and an open mind." Cute.
My favourite procrastinations
The Head Heeb - Jonathan provides a balanced view on various Israeli and (former) colonial states in less developed regions of the world.
The Bladder - a sports satire site. Well worth a look.