This will probably be of interest to no one in particular, but I wanted to save this thought for future reference.
Duchamp accomplished nothing but showing he could tell a joke, one that wasn’t and isn’t funny and that no one could possibly get. The interpreter is mocked both if he praises it and if he despises it. He either has elevated it to the aesthetic–which for Duchamp is enraging seeing it is after all just an ordinary object which has aesthetic value only by osmosis–or he has not appreciated its seriousness as art. cf. The End of Art, Donald Kuspit