Indulging in False Realities

Just Love Will Open Our Eyes

The title sounds a little cryptic, but why not; the original title was "Why Books Are Incredible," which I thought sounded a little too plain. I had the original idea for this post on 12/21/13, but never got around to actually typing it. If you were wondering about the quote at the top of the page, that's a new feature I'm going to add to musings. Musings aren't very much fun to type, but I feel they're important. A musing on this blog generally consists of my exploration into a topic that has recently piqued my interest; it's something that I do all of the time, but the tiresome part is transcribing my thoughts into paper, or in this case, data. The quote will be from whatever song I'm listening to when I start typing the musing as a treat to myself, in this case, Pig by Dave Matthews.
False Realities encompass, obviously, all interpretations of the world surrounding us that are not based in our Primary Reality. Art, for example, is a false reality. Both literature and music fit the description perfectly. Even the news tentatively fits into this categorization; although the news, ideally, is a factual report of real events that have happened, the way in which the news is presented makes it a false reality. People's realities, as per extension, are false realities, clouded by bias and subjugated by our feeble minds; this isn't necessarily a shot against humanity, but rather an acknowledgment that the world does not objectively exist as we perceive it. Our own perceptions of reality are false; however, our perceived realities are also our Primary Realities, and as such exists as the Real Reality to our subjective viewpoint. As confusing as that may sound, put more simply (And inaccurately), a False Reality is a Reality we observe through an external agent, and Real Reality is what we observe through an internal agent. This isn't to say Real Reality is superior to False Reality; far from it. While False Reality is easily manipulated and distorted, it can more often be miscommunicated. How many times have you been in a position where you've understood something better than you've been able to explain it? Real only exists to the Perceiver. The meaning of a song to the listener is only what it means to the listener, which seems fallacious at first; why isn't what the writer of the song intended it to mean the meaning of the song to the listener? That's because the songwriter's meaning isn't real to the listener. If the songwriter has a discussion with the listener, and converts the listener to his vantage point, than the songwriter's meaning has become real to the listener. There's nothing wrong with this, because what's real can change. Reality is NOT more objective than Falsehood. So, what does this have to do with "Why Books Are Incredible?" Our Realities are incredibly limited. We can do anything, but we can't do everything, and there are experiences that we will, ultimately, not be able to experience on our own. As such, there are viewpoints we will never get to see, lessons we will never get to learn, and memories we will never get to have. False Realities do a great job of allowing us to experience more (Although not really experience more). As much as I want to get kicked out of an all-black college to which I had a full scholarship for almost killing the founder, almost die working in a Paint factory, lead a miniature uprising for a Communist Party in Harlem with my oration, and eventually flee into the sewers to avoid being arrested by Policemen who suspect that I am a looter during a Harlem Riot, I will never get to do that. As such, the closest I can get to doing this is by reading Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison. While I never will get the full experience by reading this book, I can begin to understand it. As much as I want to live on the Jersey Shore in a house with my closest friends and enemies, partying with full-celebrity status, I will never get to experience this. As such, the closest I can get to doing this is by watching The Jersey Shore. These are experiences I will likely never have. If I want to see what it's like to drop acid or have a threesome, I have two choices; experience through secondhand opinion, or do it myself. A False Reality can never replace the Real Reality. However, the Real Reality is severely limited, and is supplemented by occasional indulgence in a False Reality. That is why books, art, literature, music, and the like are incredible. They may not replace the real thing, but they can take you places where Real Reality cannot. They can provide us with viewpoints we will never get to see, lessons we will never get to learn, and memories we will never get to have. Obviously the key here is moderation, because denial of Real Reality and subsequent escape into a False Reality leads to a destructive disconnect. However, as a supplement to Real Reality, as a servant to the master that is Real Reality, False Reality is incredible.
As I typed that last sentence, I remembered a great scene from the movie Good Will Hunting, where Robin Williams, while pondering over a serene pond or something gay like that, says to Matt Damon:

So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the Pope, sexual orientation, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling. Seen that. If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right: 'Once more into the breach, dear friends.' But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, and watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on Earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of Hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sittin' up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes that the terms 'visiting hours' don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause that only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much.

I look at you. I don't see an intelligent, confident man. I see a cocky, scared shitless kid. But you're a genius, Will. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine. You ripped my fuckin' life apart. You're an orphan, right? Do you think I'd know the first thing about how hard your life has been, how you feel, who you are, 'cause I read Oliver Twist? Does that encapsulate you? Personally, I don't give a shit about all that, because you know what, I can't learn anything from you I can't read in some fuckin' book. Unless you want to talk about you, who you are. Then I'm fascinated. I'm in. But you don't wanna do that, do you, sport? You're terrified of what you might say.

Required Reading, although somewhat unrelated. Don't confuse a False Reality with Hyperreality, and don't indulge so far in False Reality that it becomes Hyperreality. Life isn't fun living in Hyperreality. I've attempted to read Simulacra and Simulation before, but put it aside for another time. I barely understood what was being said, and it took a long time just to read a single page. I was actually originally drawn to the reading after I read the Story of the Eye, a relatively short work, and incredibly messed up, but nonetheless a fantastic work. Simulacra and Simulation was actually one of the original inspirations for the movie The Matrix, and this book was required reading for all actors in the Matrix, although the author of Simulacra and Simulation has publicly stated that The Matrix is a wrongful interpretation and distortion of his work. If you want to take a crack at Simulacra and Simulation, go for it. If you want a sample of the text:

The simulacrum is never what hides the truth - it is truth that hides the fact that there is none. The simulacrum is true. 

-Ecclesiastes  

If once we were able to view the Borges fable in which the cartographers of the Empire draw up a map so detailed that it ends up covering the territory exactly (the decline of the Empire witnesses the fraying of this map, little by little, and its fall into ruins, though some shreds are still discernible in the deserts - the metaphysical beauty of this ruined abstraction testifying to a pride equal to the Empire and rotting like a carcass, returning to the substance of the soil, a bit as the double ends by being confused with the real through aging) - as the most beautiful allegory of simulation, this fable has now come full circle for us, and possesses nothing but the discrete charm of second-order simulacra.

That's the first paragraph. Have fun.