This he has learned from Chaplin: every creative endeavor should aspire to the condition of art. But Hal Roach is not interested in art. Hal Roach desires respectability, but Hal Roach does not want art, or not as a primary function of his studio. Productions with some class may earn Hal Roach money, but art will see Hal Roach back emptying spittoons. The comedies he and Babe make for Hal Roach are neither respectable nor, as short collections of gags, definable as art in terms familiar to Hal Roach. To hint at such a possibility in Hal Roach’s presence would be to invite mockery, or censure, or possibly even the attentions of Henry Ginsberg in order to ensure that no art is attempted, either intentionally or inadvertently, on the studio’s dime, and Henry Ginsberg already stalks the lot like a reaper. Even Babe does not wish to speak of art. Babe is happy to be earning more money than ever before, and to see his name above the title.
Therefore, as a comedian, he is engaged in a singular conspiracy to commit art.