On Jan. 25, I wrote of the mystery sandbar piano:
[P]utting it [the trashed piano] there would be a galactic waste of time. Thus, I believe it must’ve “just happened.”
Dumped from a boat? Floated along like a raft with the legs hanging down, til, during a high tide, its legs grounded on the sandbar?
Nope. A teenager thought it would be “artistic” to first burn the thing, then haul it out there on a boat, and deposit it.
I am sympathetic to art and the artistically inclined, but I am going to have to stick with the “galactic waste of time” judgment. However, I am humbled by the, uh, other thing I said.
It would probably be a galactic waste of time for me to offer judgments about whether or not human agency is involved in anything whatsoever, ever, ever again.