On Murder Considered as One of the Fine Arts: 1

On Murder Considered as One of the Fine Arts was the title of a pamphlet by Thomas DeQuincy of Confessions of an English Opium Eater fame. I never read it entirely. At the time I came across it, I was in a quandary as to how to evaluate the morality of Art and individual expression. I was stuck in a mire and my analytic neurons were beginning to look for work elsewhere. I have heard that Art is subservient to the State, to a Class, or it is above and beyond such things and is independent of earthly concerns. Certain tasteless representations of religious objects in proximity to waste products, I think, were in our view at the time. When I read the title of DeQuincy's essay, there was an immediate "ah-ha!" I realized that anything under the sun that a man can do may be considered to be Art if only enough of mankind believes it to be. Even Murder may be a Fine Art if there are artists of Murder, and if there are critics of Murder, and IF there is an audience for Murder. And there is. Murder is a Fine Art. The audience is ourselves. There is an Industry which caters to our perversity. From the Bombing of Baghdad and Son of Bombing of Baghdad to the Unpleasantness in Aruba, Murder is an Art which ranges from High to Low and intrudes into our homes.