In my dream last night, ( Read more...Collapse )

In real life, I have been thinking about changes I want to make to my house, and what I can afford, and how to make it safe for the cat, and easier to make it up and down, in and out, and better for the cat and for having classes and houseguests. ( Read more...Collapse )

The illusion in the dream, that I was dreaming about a family that I have, but in a dream situation, and other reminders, caused me to think, as I was driving this morning, about the movie *The Illusionist.* It's not completely clear-- or at least I assume it's not meant ot be clear-- what the facts of the story are, in the movie. The illusions involved are extraordinary for their venue-- and in fact, some would be difficult in modern times without many confederates, lavish production costs, and risks to life and health. Yet, the illusionist insists that his profession is that of producing illusions. No real mystery is involved.

I hate being lied to, with an unreasoning passion in some cases. You may hide things from me, especially if you don't pretend to intimacy with me-- omission, after all, is inevitable, and if it doesn't impact my well-being, it's forgivable. But don't get close to me, then lie, particularly about something which strongly concerns me-- it infuriates me. I have gotten much, much more tolerant about this as I've gotten older, and not incidentally learned more about my own self-deceptions. But still, if you prove yourself untrustworthy, I will not trust you, nor do I see why I should.

So why am I sometimes charmed by illusions, and in fact by fiction? Maybe because in fiction, and many sorts of illusions, I feel that I am being told some sort of inner truth-- I'm not looking for facts, so I'm not betrayed when they are withheld. And why was I so charmed by the character of Eisenstein the Illusionist? Because, as far as I could tell, he never exactly lied. Either way, it was all an illusion, and he told everyone so.