At the transmission party

I probably sound like kind of a twit when I write about art. I don't really know about art, I just like it. The Museu d'Art Contemporani de Barcelona is very contemporary, and by contemporary I mean weird. Piles of sticks on the floor weird. There was this video piece playing the same scene over and over again: A man pulls out a chair for a woman to sit down at a table, and when she goes to sit down he pulls the chair away and she falls; as she's getting up, she pokes him in the ass; he yells and smacks her, she throws water in his face; they push each other around; she kicks him in the crotch, he knees her in the crotch; and they both end up on the floor in pain. Over and over and over and over. There was a projector clicking through a slide show of mostly blank slides. What I found the most bizarre was a series of panels by a guy from Michigan of all places (Mike Kelley, ever heard of him?). They looked like newspaper stories. Three were from small Michigan papers (the Ann Arbor News, something from Wayne, and something from western Michigan) and chronicled in graphic first-person detail the abuse inflicted on a Catholic boy by some Protestant kids, including rape by communion bread. (I've never taken communion myself but I'm pretty sure a wafer wouldn't withstand all the things he wrote about doing to/with it. I guess that's why it's art and not journalism.) Between those three were panels from the LA Times and the Detroit News, containing restaurant and theatre reviews, respectively. Clearly he's drawing a distinction between big cities and small towns but beyond that I'm not sure what his intentions were. Bad things happen in small towns? Bad people live in small towns? City people are out of touch? I like weird modern art, but I don't pretend to get it. I also like the really disturbing stuff--not sure what that says about me.