Why Must Art Imitate Reality?
By Jon Rappoport
Well, of course, it doesn’t have to, but that’s what most people are looking for. An imitation of reality.
Surrealism, for example, is crazy by conventional standards. Which is its whole point: who set up the conventional standards?
Once you open up that question, all bets are off.
What happens if I write a short play in which Edward Snowden is a dictator in a police state, and the NSA are revolutionaries battling for freedom?
Is that stage play “illegal?” Could reversing roles actually indict the NSA to a greater degree and make its crimes more vivid?
“No! You’re twisting everything! Stick to the facts! You’re soiling the reputation of Edward Snowden!”
Is that what I’m doing? Of course not. But “the reality people” are offended.
The notion that inversion or metaphor could be more powerful than fact is impossible for them to conceive.
Satire? Never heard of it.
The truth is, in every person there is a force of imagination waiting to make a prison break. That force feels great joy in overturning reality. But most people lock it up behind bars. And having locked it up, they don’t want to be reminded of it.
Art reminds them.
Art is a thorn.
“Don’t bother me. I’m accepting reality. I’m a loyal foot-soldier in the army of What Is.”
Such a person is conning himself, but he doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to think about it at all. But a child does. A child is ready to stage little improvisational plays at the drop of a hat. New roles, new stories. For him, reality is soft and elastic.
A child is prepared to torpedo any consensus in the service of inventing something spontaneous.
Eventually, he learns this a taboo. It isn’t part of the adult universe. If he’s going to use his imagination at all, it must be for the purpose of strengthening What Is.
His parents and teachers are there to help him with this effort.
But somewhere down deep, they all know this is collaborating with the enemy. It’s betraying the core of consciousness.