“Perhaps it is better to wake up after all, even to suffer , than to remain a dupe to illusions all one’s life.” Kate Chopin
Nobody believes they are a dupe—the awareness comes over you like a stranger telling you your zipper is down. There is a shame about foolishness but, in some quarters, you are rewarded for it. Some are kamikaze in their desire to uncloak themselves from illusion, but in their hurry to shine brightly they are clouded by the illusion that they can let go of illusions.
Illusions are part and parcel of humanity—our brain’s way of protecting us, but only sometimes. Often, our brains are too clever, obscuring the path of brightness because it might hurt our eyes—even though stumbling in the dark is its’ own danger.
Intellectually, it is better to suffer, but many artists have embraced this as a means to an end. Constantly ripping scabs off to FEEL SOMETHING is as foolish as its’ opposite. And as odorous as the bleating artist can be, it is more repugnant to me to witness the wholesale embrace of blindness as some sort of virtue. Ah, ignorance. And its’ cousin, self-righteousness. The blind don’t just lead the blind—they preach the virtue of gouging one’s eyes out. There is always someone just pretending to be blind with their hands in your pocket.