The irrelevance of art in the contemporary ethos happened perchance by accident, alas it is so. Reason, science and religion cannot find a place for it except as superfluous, and by them it has been classified into the genera obsolescence. Yet the concept of beauty (a very classical pursuit of art) has been forever linked with truth and goodness throughout the philosophical heritage of every civilization; it is, itself, a transcendental that as humans we are eager to define, quantify and grasp at, but in our modern age, we know it less well then the ancients we have supposedly surpassed in every human faculty. Where as once, it was known as universal, it is now considered subjective; where as once it was considered both inspired and imbued with power to, itself, inspire, it is now a plaything, a fancy, a leisure—ignored. Art once depicting the most powerful symbols of a culture is now produced irreverently hiding behind its every sparse line an increasingly sparse and vapid message. It has fallen from its lofty place beside the other transcendentals; like others, though, who scale towering heights, they (each tied together) succeed or fall as one. So it is that these three (Truth, Goodness and Beauty) have all become whimsical fancies, and have lost the potency to carry any lasting messages; by Fact they are slain, sterile though it is, humane perhaps, they headless bow to the every compounding, shifting, competing fact. Fallen. First beauty, then truth and goodness. All fallen; the loss of beauty a mortal wound that cannot be borne.