Of Truth and Fantasy

Lately, I have been thinking about the nature of truth. Truth is inconvenient. It’s bitter at times. It doesn’t bend to our sense of pleasure, doesn’t bow to our need to be sustained. It’s cold, it’s dark, and it’s grimy. How, then, can we call such a thing valuable? How can we call truth good? Sounds deep, doesn’t it? Well, I want to make this tangible, so let me draw upon my favorite example: the matrix. 

The more I think about it, the more I realize that Cypher has a point. Living in reality is boring. It’s plain. It’s dry. We eat the same goop every day because it’s what our body needs, wear the same ragged, torn up clothes and follow leaders who claim to have a better future for us. I find myself, once again, asking: is this really living? Is there something missing to the human experience, or am I forced to live in this foul, wretched place?

I want to say that a life that’s just based on what is isn’t what we were meant to have. Even when things are going beyond well, I see something missing without the presence of dreams. To look at a situation and to not only see what is, but what could be seems to me to be essential to leading a fulfilled life. I think that’s what Cypher was missing, what many of us are missing: personal drive. We don’t have anything that we hunger for. Nothing we crave to see accomplished. Isn’t that why social media works so well–because we can pretend to have it all? Heck, isn’t that why media works in general? We project ourselves onto a character in a movie, throw filters on the pictures we post and relate to our favorite songs, all to cope with the fact that we aren’t anywhere near where we’re supposed to be. We use those things to live in constant denial of the way the world is and the hell we are steering towards. 

It might sound like I’m some backwoods redneck who’s entirely against technology, media and anything fun. Sheesh, it would be kinda hard to keep a blog if I was. No, I’m just thinking about the fact that what is can be tough to deal with. The truth can be hard to swallow. And while I think there are times that we need to swallow those bitter truths, we need a little sugar to help the medicine go down. We need fantasy to help us deal with reality. 

In its purest form, fantasy isn’t a coping mechanism. It’s the other half of the story. Looking for truth tells you about what is, fantasy tells you about what could be. Reality is the chapter you’re on, fantasy tells you what’s next; what’s about to come. I’d argue that even Morpheus, the “enlightened one,” lives in this kind of fantasy. He is driven, sustained and given life by his conviction that he will find the chosen one. It grips him so strongly that it makes his miserable existence in the real world a thing of bliss worth suffering through. It may not be food that the body needs, but I would definitely call it necessary for true living. 

That, then, leads to the question: is this just another shackle for our minds? Is fantasy not another form of bliss that holds us captive? I would say no, but only when used properly. Fantasy was meant to be used in conjunction with reality. A well-harnessed dream tells us how to change the world for the better. Truth tells us that the world is a dingy, dilapidated wasteland. Fantasy says it’s the desert to be crossed to reach the promised land. Maybe it even makes it look cool, with dramatic music and a narrator with a really deep voice. 

Think about it like this: what image comes to mind when you think of a big city? Even if we got really specific and thought of the same city, let’s say Times Square, you and I might have very different ideas of what’s in front of our eyes. You might see annoying buildings with lots of ads, the virus that plagues the 21st century. I might see colorful lights and exciting ideas brought to life on wonderful screens. What might disgust you could excite me, and a big factor in how we see each is what ideas we are given about them. 

At its core, fantasy deals with values. It’s all about what is cool, exciting, or even good. This makes it a very important space for a Christian to be in. Sadly, however, I fear we may be in it in the wrong ways. We have people like the Kendrick brothers, who actively claim to be preachers instead of actors, when we should be setting Tolkien, and even Lewis, as the standard. I’m not saying we don’t talk about Lord of the Rings enough, but we don’t talk about how we, as Christians, should be like Tolkien. We would rather argue that we need to create the next “God’s not dead,” over the next Narnia. How can we influence people’s sense of good and excitement when we create such mediocrity? How can we influence what people value when we make things that are incredibly bland? 

I feel like the Christian way is to ignore our emotional, artistic reaction in the name of something far “holier.” It makes me sick! It isn’t hedonistic to explore our creative feelings and what gets us truly excited. We’re such cowards when it comes to our own motivations as humans. Why can’t we have fun with it all, go nuts and get excited? I think that’s something we need to work on. 

We need people to take what is and make it seem interesting. We need great artists, musicians and filmmakers to help guide us on how to feel about certain things. To remind us of missing parts of the story, and to add a dose of sugar to the dreary realm of that which exists currently. I hope this post made sense, because I plan to follow this train of thought for a while. If it doesn’t, come hit me up and nag me about it. I’d actually love that. Otherwise, I’ll catch y’all on the next one.

Until Next Time

May Peace be your Guide.