Modern artists have replaced craft and long hours of practice with pretentiousness, shock value, indignation, and existential angst as ways to cow audiences into appreciating their art, and often added some pretense to political ideals, usually of the puerile Marxist variety, to pretend‐play profundity. To the extent that anything good can be said about modern “art,” it is that it is clever, in the manner of a prank or practical joke.
