Ch=mpathy 🧪

Imagine walking into a café and ordering a cup of coffee. Instead of a hot, brewed drink, the barista hands you a handful of roasted beans and a cup of water. Confused, you ask where the coffee is. They respond, "This is coffee—just in its purest, most elemental form." You explain that you simply wanted a drink, not an experience, but they insist that the real issue is your 'narrow definition' of what coffee could be. When you point out that all you wanted was a nice hot beverage, they scoff and call you unimaginative. This is how it feels to me when I am expected to perform mental gymnastics to accept uninspired or lazy art as profound or avant-garde. If something requires an explanation to justify its brilliance, rather than evoking a reaction on its own, then maybe it is just a handful of beans—not a cup of coffee...