Stories are important. Stories, in fact, are life. They are what is left of our unique experience in this world. They speak--no. They scream. And when an author sits down and constructs a completely imaginary world in their heads, if people like me, people like us, do not exist in it, or exist only to be ridden like animals or raped or murdered or humilated or destroyed so that an audience can acheive catharsis via symbolic annihilation of our lives, bodies, and souls, well, certainly, we can sit down and look at the floor and say: yes, you're right, that is what we deserve.
Or we can stand up. We can scream back. We can band together. We can demand our right to exist, to take part in humanity, to learn, to grow, to evolve, to self-examine.
Monday, March 16, 2009
A Story. Tell Me Another Story
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3 comments:
Isn't that how we do nearly everything - through stories? If you break it down. I think it is.
P.S. Midsomers are our current mystery rotation. We're working through our library's set before moving on to something else.
Well, that's the story we tell ourselves. (rueful grin)
I'm thinking of picking up more Midsomers just to find out whether Badger's Drift is really a sink of iniquity.
LOL - oh, you know that Badger's Drift is just that. Don't you love those episodes with the creepy funeral director and his mom and then their relatives? Yeeks!
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