Art as God

Conclusion

It seems fitting that art and philosophy end up together at the end of the story. These two subjects depend on one another, for something I would like to call “circular objectivity.” They re-enforce each other’s existence, mostly through the phrase “What about Mozart and Kant?” each name depicting a level expertise in each field. The relationship between art and philosophy goes even deeper. The two find themselves as the biggest contributors to the search for meaning, and consequently find themselves to be the answer to many people’s questions regarding where they are to find meaning. In this individualized society, art and philosophy are the ultimate substitute for God. They provide limitless amounts of meaning, which in turn can be adopted by pretty much anyone.

I found my meaning through philosophy. And consequently, I found a way to trivialize my search for meaning through philosophy as well. The only thing that I feel comfortable asserting anymore is that I really, really do not know. What is good art, what is bad art? Can we have good art with out knowing what bad art is? And vice versa?

On a more personal note:

I found myself wandering into your office a few times during the semester. Sometimes to explain my disappearing acts that I pulled through out the course and other times to just simply shoot the shit. I felt comfortable discussing some of my thoughts with you on my nihilistic gaze, because I could sense that you come from a similar mindset. One particular day, I was ranting and raving about their being no truth, and how this bureaucratic philosophy is bullshit. You responded very simply that I needed to find “meaning.” This stuck with me. Meaning? Did I not have meaning before? Does not the mere existence of this world imply that there is none? Sure, people can disillusion themselves into finding meaning through religion or art, but is this application of meaning truly rational? It seems that I have but two choices in my life. Find irrational meaning and be happy, or except what I feel to be true, and be miserable.

As morbid as this sounds, I would rather be miserable. Not because I am adhering to some Hollywood notion of individuality and the righteousness of truth, but rather to abdicate this hole in my life. I wish I had the choice to be miserable. But instead, I am forever subjected to the search for meaning, even if it is nihilistic.

These are just interpretations of philosophers, and are extremely subjective.