Tag: life

What Killed Art

Chris KhatschLeave a comment

In a forgotten pub, a Gen Z and a Millennial sat at the bar side by side on bar stools. The Gen Z’s bar stool squeaked every time he moved; the one the Millennial sat on didn’t. There was no electricity, but the night sky was clear, stars shone, and the moon was full, so, although minimal, enough moonlight entered the pub through the broken window behind them. The bartender was a skeleton wrapped in spider webs, but he still served them drinks somehow. The Gen Z was having his fifth Cognac and Coke, but the Millennial’s first pint of beer remained untouched.

“I was born to be an artist,” the Gen Z said. “But now it looks like art died before my time.”

“Don’t take it too hard,” the Millennial said, smiling. “Art died before my time, too. Much before my time, in fact. And it’s not just art that died. They also said that God is dead, philosophy is dead, and they even claimed that love is dead.”

“So, you’re saying that, basically, everything that once made us human is either dead or dying.”

“Unfortunately.”

“But who killed art? Who killed God? Who killed philosophy? Who killed love?”

“You want me to give you the names of the murderers, but I can only give you the names of those who wrote the obituaries. I’ll name them: Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, for instance, announced the death of art; Friedrich Nietzsche announced the death of God; Stephen Hawking announced the death of philosophy; Byung-Chul Han announced the death of love. And I’m sure there are others who made the same or similar announcements. Journalists outnumber newsworthy events. But does it really matter who found the corpses? I have a feeling you don’t really care. I can see it in your eyes.”

“You’re right. I don’t care,” the Gen Z said. “What I want to know is the cause of death of art. What killed it? Can’t you tell me, please, who killed it?”

“Hm, well, the answer is more depressing than art’s funeral,” said the Millennial. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Then, let me tell it to you as it is. There are no murderers. No killers except time. After a long battle with history and technological progress, art passed away in her sleep of natural causes.”

The Gen Z let out a long sigh and said, “If what you are saying is true, then how come there’s still so much art, religion, philosophy, and love in the world?”

“Ah! That’s an excellent question,” the Millennial said. “But it’s the wrong question.”

“What?” the Gen Z was surprised. “Why?”

“I really wish I could spend more time with you in this forgotten place,” the Millennial suddenly rose from his place. “You may be onto something here, so I encourage you to keep looking. But I must now disappear.”

This piece was first published on my Substack on July 6, 2026.

Unstructured Reflections on Boredom: A Blurry Definition of Boredom

Chris KhatschLeave a comment

In Part Two of Human, All Too Human, Nietzsche writes: “The proverb, ‘The Hungarian is far too lazy to feel bored,’ gives food for thought. Only the highest and most active animals are capable of being bored. The boredom of God on the seventh day of Creation would be a subject for a great poet.”1 Nietzsche isn’t talking about simple boredom here, which Peter Toohey, who has written one of the most boring books on boredom, defines as “a social emotion of mild disgust produced by a temporarily unavoidable and predictable circumstance.”2 What Nietzsche is talking about is existential boredom, which Toohey cannot fathom.3 (Existential) (but also situational) boredom isn’t laziness, but an excess of energy yearning to be spent elsewhere. It crawls out of your spirit’s deepest and darkest cave when one kind of energy is exhausted and another kind begins to stir. It comes to inform you that something unwelcome is gnawing at your being, chomping on your vitality, eating your time. But only the truly blessed are blessed with the curse of boredom. To be bored by something means that the reciprocity between you and the object has been severed: you no longer have anything worthy to give it, it has nothing worthy to give you, and your attention to it is now forced rather than voluntary. (The bored man is the prisoner of the now that he needs to escape from. The present situation is unwanted, unpleasant, intolerable, et cetera. Note: The “present situation” can be a two-hour workshop and it can also be a whole lifetime.) Boredom is your spirit’s way of transcending the current situation. It is a striving toward a higher or more meaningful mode of being. It is not emptiness but unspent possibility, the tension between what is and what could be, potentialities activated (but pending), a body without organs… When boredom crawls out of your spirit’s cave, it does not know what it wants. All it knows is that it does not want what it has right now. Eventually, it finds a new direction (or an object it desires), and so it crawls towards it. Boredom is a transitional state. It is a movement or, rather, an initiator of movement… But note: Simply moving from one activity to another does not solve boredom. One can pay attention and still be bored. One can be entertained and still be bored. Entertainment is often merely a stimulation without inner engagement or meaning; therefore, not a solution to boredom, but an escape from it. The movement must be from the boring activity to a meaningful activity. “Boredom,” Lars Svendsen writes, “is not a question of work or freedom but of meaning.”4 Boredom, therefore, is a good thing, as Nietzsche implies, and it can be the fertile ground for something meaningful…

Notes and References

[1] Naturally, I do not mean to offend Hungarians. I do not even know where the stereotype comes from. I’m only quoting Nietzsche here. (Nietzsche, Friedrich. Human, All Too Human. Wordsworth Editions Limited, 2014.)

[2] Toohey, Peter. Boredom, A Lively History. Yale University Press, 2012.

[3] A quote from Peter Toohey’s Boredom: “Might not this existential form of boredom, this philosophical or even religious sickness, be best characterized as depression?”

[4] Svendsen, Lars. A Philosophy of Boredom. Reaktion Books, 2011.