I was rereading the little argument at the beginning of The Potrait of Dorian Gray, where Oscar Wilde concludes that all art is useless. It hit me like a 2 by 4 on my skull, considering I am Bachelor and Master es Art and I live in a state of joblessness.
Art is useless.
And everything else is useful.
Yet, Art is meaningful,
While the rest, what is useful, is meaningless.
It is the nature of utility to have no end in itself. No meaning.
But meaning, as an end, is divine, it cannot be sold or bought.
Useful act, useful things, and even utility itself can be quantified, sold, bought, traded, stolen, etc...
Long story short, while I am proud of what I have learned (if I truly have learned anything), there is a sad feeling of uselessness.... powerlessness... that accompanies it.
Although I think my sadness would have been far greater, had I become a billionnaire trader on Wallstreet.
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You can tell I'm a philosophy major, 'cuz I use words like uselessness...
the essnesses are the essential vocab of any philopher...
Woe to those who learned something "useful" and does nothing with it!
Ça t'empêche pas de faire quelque chose d'utile pareil. Même si c'est plate. C'est pas obligé d'être du traiteur dans un salon funéraire d'artistes...
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