looking at the man in the mirror

The ethic of post-atomic American culture has been a savage commercialism lowering and leveling our expectations of ourselves, as reflected in our art. Does an old movie magazine photo of Marilyn Monroe, proclaimed as art by Andy Warhol, really reflect our inner being? Maybe. On the other hand, the whole art enterprise bears the earmarks of a winking-nodding conspiracy of cruising sharks. Does the entire tawdry matchstick castle have to crumble before people begin to shake off the corruption of our taste, the evasion of taxes to stock museums -- more winking and nodding, the unquestioning support of vast teaching operations leading to no visible means of support? Maybe not.