I’m my own favorite actor

November 30, 2006

In defense of the fool:

I don’t believe his lies because of their careful and clever construction.  It’s not that the lies are transparent, more like translucent.  They retain just enough credibility that there is the barest possibility of them being truth.

Which makes believeing them much easier.

I don’t believe them for him, you understand.  No, my willful ignorance is purely selfish.  If I actually acknowledged that he was less than honest, then I would have to deal with his dishonestly and the motivations behind it.  There’s a song that goes, “Knowledge is the power, but ignorance is bliss.”  (Dos Gringos) As long as I choose not to know, I can be okay.  Or at least I can pretend enough to fake it through another day. And that’s all I want, to pretend that everything is okay.  Because there’s a bit of reality in perceptions.  I have work rather hard to be this okay, to create this small world where the mantra is “I’m fine”.  And although I could risk it for something better, I’m not much of a gambler.

Lately, he said to me, “You know, I’m not really an ass.  I just act like one.”  To which I replied, “And what, exactly, is the difference?”  He couldn’t answer.  Go figure.

I’ve been told by several people that he and I are remarkably similar.  I think the main difference between us is in our vices.  He and his incessant narcissism and me and my need to hit the self destruct button.


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