Who knew there are real-life conferences for real-life bloggers sharing real-life fantasy versions of why they blog, and who they are. An enigmatic oxymoron of sorts; a dichotomy dressed as a conundrum; frankly, the most dubious juxtaposition of worlds I can possibly fathom. And I rather dislike this vicarious experience, to be quite honest.
Isn’t the implicit anonymity of a blog somehow distinctively integral to its very appeal? I love the possibility of a particular writer being as poised, brilliant, sharp-witted and mysterious as their social media presents them as being… Which explains my disappointment once I discovered that such a conference is not merely hypothetical…
My senior year in college, I voluntarily took a C in my Logistical Metaphysics course, when I had earned an A all semester. I had spent months entertaining the professor’s bland and mundane notions that everything “real” had a practical, logical explanation; and that everything “supernatural” also had a practical, logical explanation. I spoon-fed that instructor every bite of what he wanted. I filled his ego with all sorts of empty confirmatioms that I was actually learning something from his lack of imagination. Did I disagree with him, about bigfoot being fake and ghosts being mere psychological projections of the observer? Not necessarily. But on my term paper, I finally cracked. I couldn’t take it anymore.
I wrote simply: “Whether unexplainable phenomenon are real or not, whether supernatural occurences are logical or not, I will still show my children fluffy dragons in the clouds. I will tell them trees dance because the wind makes them happy. I will see all the wonders of the world, the ones that won’t bear witness to a brain inside a box. Life is not about reality’s essence. It is about reality’s possibilities, in all its beautiful forms.”
I would hate to discover the wizard behind the curtain. I like to believe in Oz.