Despite the darkness of finals gathering above the Mordor of my desk, quite a few of my students went to the midnight premiere of The Hobbit last Thursday. None of them seemed too concerned with Peter Jackson’s much-criticized decision to expand the shortish novel into three long films: overall, the Tolkien universe is too seductive to gripe about an excess of sloppy foreplay. When what you want is dwarves and hobbits and Gandalf and Gollum, three films will do nicely.
I can sympathize with their attitude. If I had been given the opportunity to attend a midnight opening of The Return of the Jedi or Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade, I would have taken it. In the same way that my students have grown up with the Bagginses and Harry Potter, my generation (I use the word loosely, as I’ve never been exactly sure which generation it is I’m supposed to belong to) had Star Wars and Indiana Jones.
These were the fantasy epics that I wore out VCRs watching and rewatching until I knew every quip and every stunt by heart. As films, the Indiana Jones movies – including the shaky fourth one – are far superior to the overwrought, cliché-addled Star Wars movies (raise your hand if you are offended), but as a child I didn’t notice the difference. Years after the appeal of cartoons like He-Man and Voltron faded, Star Wars and Indy enthralled me.
Both franchises, of course, share Harrison Ford and John Williams and a few other people, but besides the overlap in personnel, there’s one striking thing they have in common: in each of them the heroes’ survival depends on the acceptance of magic.
Here’s the scene in the original Star Wars film in which Luke, under Obi-Wan’s supervision, is practicing against a robot:
Han Solo, still in the smug bastard phase of his character development, looks on unimpressed: “Kid, I’ve flown from one side of this galaxy to the other, I’ve seen a lot of strange stuff, but I’ve never seen anything to make me believe there’s one all-powerful force controlling everything…. it’s all a lot of simple tricks and nonsense.” In effect, Solo is objecting the way any skeptic would in the presence of dubious claims: asserting the null hypothesis, and refusing to conflate his inability to explain every strange phenomenon with the need to accept an unlikely answer. His dismissal is answered by a weary and patient smile from Obi-Wan, who has heard the doubters before.
This is an important scene in the film, because in the Star Wars universe, of course, Han Solo is wrong. His behavior clarifies what we are meant to understand as a potentially dangerous flaw in his character – his lack of faith – and simultaneously implies that this flaw may be somehow connected to his disregard for the greater good. From a storytelling point of view, the challenge faced by the hero, Skywalker, is here effectively recast as one not only of skill and courage, but of the refusal to succumb to the kind of nihilistic doubt displayed by Solo.
(If you think I’m reading too much into the scene, I offer the simple defense that I saw it that way when I was a boy: I might not have had the vocabulary to put it into words, but the import was clear enough.)
I single out this moment because it’s one of the most striking examples of a dynamic that is enacted repeatedly throughout both film series, from Darth Vader choking an insufficiently credulous general to Henry Jones, Sr. whispering “you must, believe, boy,” as his son prepares to literally step into the void. In these movies, those who doubt fundamentally misconstrue the realities of their universes and risk death.
In one sense, I do not think there anything wrong with any of these scenes. Filmmakers are under no obligation to create universes that mirror ours – or to do much of anything else, really – and I am not at all concerned with whether any given set piece was intended to be didactic or not. George Lucas is a terrible filmmaker, and I have long suspected that his papier-mâché characters and shoebox-diorama plots are rooted in a general inability to observe reality very closely, but he isn’t guilty of anything other than aesthetic crimes. I do think, though, that the possibility of a certain lesson being taken away from the film by children is worth considering – the lesson that belief matters more than anything else, and that the power of things worth fighting for, the power of everything we mean when we use the word Good, is inextricably linked to the willingness to believe.
Lest anyone think I am griping at magic, consider the illustrative contrast with the newer films I mentioned. As far as massively popular, childhood-defining fantasy franchises go, Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings are different because the need to believe in magic never enters into their stories. Harry and Frodo must overcome all manner of fear and doubt to succeed, but the existence of the supernatural is always present in their worlds as a simple fact about how things work. There is no lesson to be taken away by young minds about how we must believe in magic. There is only the lesson that we ought to believe in hope, and love, and the power of good to overcome evil. Gandalf’s magic is no more important – in fact, is considerably less important – than Aragorn’s sword or Bilbo’s cleverness. “The Shire!” is a very different kind of rallying cry than “may The Force be with you.”
I cannot help but wonder what the lasting impact of films like those in the Star Wars and Indiana Jones series was on those of us who grew up in their shadow. Certainly, the films were neither universally watched nor universally revered, and nor were they the only fantasy movies that people of my generation loved. And The Hero Who Must Believe is a figure potentially as old as storytelling itself. But the unique cultural significance of the Star Wars and Indy films, and the almost dictatorial role they exercised on millions of young imaginations, places them in a different category than other movies of their era. I have no hard data to work with here – no numbers or experimental groups – but only a speculation that, for every child who grew into an archaeologist because of Indiana Jones or fell in love with space because of Star Wars, there are two more who grew up unconsciously mistrusting overt skepticism because of the same movies.
It’s just a thought. But I would be happy to hear from anyone with experience either way, who grew up adoring the same movies. As far as The Hobbit goes, I will go to see it sooner or later, and in the meantime at least I won’t have to worry that my kids are subtly being told that unquestioning belief is more valuable than withheld judgment.
I agree. Although Lucas later revealed that the Force was nothing more than microbes communicating with each other (how a rock or light sabre has midichlorians is beyond me). The books of The Lord of the Rings actually have far less magic than the movies… magic has limits and not everyone can do magic. The main magical characters are supernatural beings similar to angels called Maiar (Gandalf, Sauron, Saruman, the balrogs), not even the elves have magical powers, more like super senses and abilities (Elrond and Galadriel have powers thanks to their rings).
At any rate, they all share a common thread: over come insecurity and vanquish the fears within so you can vanquish evil. Although Indiana Jones was more about faith than anything else, for sure.
I did not know that Lucas had offered that explanation, but it isn’t any less mystical than simply saying “The Force.” It’s a non-explanatory explanation.
I’ve been mulling a blog post along similar lines, but using a different film as the jumping off point. I think the faith we see in movies is primarily a metaphor. Also, movies are an inherently 19th century form, even though they came of age later. That’s why old ideas like bad guys looking bad, or at least wearing black hats, still work.
Note how Lucas deflated an entire mythology and trashed a franchise by turning the force into a blood-born pathogen. If there’s magic, people must wield it, not microbes.
I may try to get that post out in the near future. It’s an interesting conundrum. I do, though, think that magic and faith are, like violence, perfectly appropriate in movies if not in real life.
It is worth reading some of David Brin’s thoughts about the differences between Star Wars and Star Trek. It is on a related theme about how problems are solved. Star Wars relies on the hero with special and noble powers, which he might need to learn how to use, but which are special to him. Star Trek is about thinking through things, working as a team and the general idea of anyone with the right skills and work ethic can do it. A feudal vs democratic view of how things work.
Agree on your comparison of the Star Wars/indiana Jones movies; however it might be safe to assume that in effect the reason Jones is superior might be that the director simply did not believe enough. How ironic, isn’t it? Well the fact is that Spielberg had money and backing for the Jones movies and Lucas has always used the ace up his sleeve to receive sympathy from Star Wars fans; to the point were he “used” such card to pull us into a much promised and hyped ad-nausea movie boasting to be a: prequel, technically superior and storylined to fit perfectly. All of it fine except for one problem… Lucas never wanted to be a one punch fighter, and he took the prequels in any direction he saw fit; ultimately leading them into his rectum, never to be seen again. I will do you one better, if I may; the young generation is getting a free dose of imagination wrapped in a brightly colored box of cg effects, native 3d and digital puppetry and it’s all good, don’t get me wrong. I actually enjoyed the rings and the potter films, but I see them differently because I don’t think it should be all about the bells and whistles. I saw the Hobbit on 3d and afterwards thought that I could have enjoyed it just as well in good ol’ 2d because it was the story and the movie as a whole that attracted me, not how much perspective the hair has. My first experience in sci-fi was Planet of the Apes, and I did not care much for it as a kid, as an adult I find that the movie had the diamond studded last scene which made the whole movie worth while but as a kid I did not know better. I think the kids now begin to lose focus of the underlining meanings of movies and end up accusing us older fans of precisely reading too much into it. I mean, they see star wars and all they see is luck and vader and the ships and how dated it all seems to them. Well I see it differently, the force? a parallel to God and believers with non-believers. A well-defined good vs evil with the added bonus of an anti-hero with a heart of gold. The characters that appear just in time to make a contribution… nothing is wasted, because it was expensive to make movies and those who made them usually respected the art. We as fans were unconsciously required to respect the art also. Wen I saw the hobbit, a group of middle school seniors sat behind me, throwing pop corn while the ads were running and such. After the movie they debated on the movie and one of them stated that he did not like how they used more actors than effects and how they expected more. I debated with my cousin on what the Dragon will look like, the future of the characters and how excited it will be to continue the story. The difference is clear, too bad the kids will never get the feeling of awe and wonder I got when I saw, for example Logan’s Run. Not sleeping because of the Exorcist and laughing my ass off watching a Richard Pryor stand up. They expect more and provide very little interest, so the movies become bigger and the quality dwindles until every movie is a cheap knock-off of the first one; all for the sake of money. They say the movie was “too long, boring, no effects and too much dialog,” I saw I hope I have time to see the next one.
I grew up with Star Wars, Indy and “The Force” (and the magic of “Dune” by the way) but went to MIT for my Doctorate in Geophysics anyway. Why? Because the faithful vs skeptical views portrayed in the films and books of the day represented a skism in my real world that already existed but was never durectly addressed elsewhere. In these stories, the issues are laid bare for a viewer (or reader) to consider for one’s self rather than have it thrust upon them by either the pious or the skeptic. For and hour or two one could be swept into a world where the advantages and disadvantages could be rolled around and considered, striking the imagination and stretching it. In both Star Wars and The Indy films, it is never made manifest that Ford’s characters ever truly embraced the Force despite his breathy uttering of “May the Force be with you” to Luke as they prepare to take out the Death Star. It seemed to me at the time, and still does, that Ford’s delivery of this line was pitched more as an expression of good wishes offered in a language that Luke had come to embrace rather then a conversion moment– much as I might utter “Bless you” when someone sneezes. My take away lesson, which I’m sure will annoy some of my fellow skeptics, is one of good will in the face of differing philosophies. I have never, (in fact could never) conceive of a time in Solo’s later life where he would be voluntarily attending Force services at his local place of communion. Luke and maybe Leia, yes, but Solo? Nah. Neither could I imagine Indy spending much time pondering the magic he had witnessed, he’d be back at the University in his lecture hall, leaving the unexplained… well, unexplained. And for me, the choice of which path to follow was never really on the table when I saw those films anyway, I was already Solo, already Indy. For me, the question I wrestled with was not whether to believe or not but rather whether to live cooperatively beside those with belief. To accept diversity of thought, to be able to move forward without having all of the answers (even if I did have my suspicions) was my resolution. This lesson has served me well over the years, as a scientist and a community member. While I still actively express my skepticism, I also have a better grasp on how to work with people of a different mind set than my own while, forwarding causes we both believe in. For me, the turning point in the first Star Wars film was when Solo turned the Falcon around and rejoined the battle for freedom despite his personal philosophical differences. He learned to discern the fight for the greater good. And so goes my life today. I have found little success in turning the pious into skeptics but I have learned not to withhold my skill set from causes my heart supports just because somebody on my team believes in magic.
Thanks. I think your take on Han, insofar as we can project him past the bounds of the films, is probably correct.
Thanks! Great post by the way! Thoroughly enjoyed it!
There is a leap of faith in Harry Potter: The characters literally must risk annihilating their minds by running headlong at a wall with their eyes screwed shut in order to get to magic school.
I’ve always remembered a line form the film “The Night of the Demon”, “Curse of the Demon” in America. One of the characters a Dr. O’Brien states “I know the value of the cold light of reason, but I also know the dark shadows that that light can cast. The shadows that can blind men to truth.”
For a 1950′s horror/suspense film there are some well thought out and deep meanings amongst the supposed hokum and this raises a number of questions. Not least that why did they bother to go to such lengths to include such detail when much would go over the heads of those watching?
For further reading I would recommend looking at the following site http://sensesofcinema.com/2007/feature-articles/curse-demon/
Maybe its just me and I’m as skeptical as the next “Skeptoid” but there are somethings I’ve experienced that are not easy to explain, particularly since they often come out of the blue and are at complete odds with where I am or whats happening at the time.
If I had been Han solo I would have said “Kid, I’ve flown from one side of this galaxy to the other, I’ve seen a lot of strange stuff and I’ve never seen anything to make me believe there’s one all-powerful force controlling everything but there may be more to this than we can see touch and feel. So may the force be with you.”
Many things in life are not easy to explain. They should not be. Most of the explanations we have we have worked very hard for, over generations, with tremendous discipline, often at the risk to life and limb. Temporary (or even permanent) inability to explain anything does not translate to vague, wishy-washy, mystical catchall explanations that sound nice but mean nothing. In other words, your (or my) inability to explain the weird things we may observe does not constitute evidence for anything.
I will check out the link you mentioned.
My sentiments exactly but it can be rather unnerving. Like consistently waking up at 3.33 in the morning and suddenly finding its all over the internet. I draw no conclusion from this even though thousands have but it is still unsettling never the less. Coincidence? Probably or the minds ability to see patterns in things that aren’t there. Selective memory, maybe. Standing at Weyland Smithy a 5,000 year old tomb in rural Oxfordshire on a hot summers day with friends and in a good mood. Completely out of character I get the feeling this is a bad place, a genuine, unreasonable feeling of dread. Even more eerily years latter the Smithy flashes up as one of the many images on my lap top that I use as a screen saver. The client I have in my office says “thats Weyland Smithy, I went there with my sister and she had a bad feeling about that place.” Again I draw no conclusion but you can see how people do derive mysticism from events like these. There are many more. My reasoned business like analytical mind tells me no, I deal with facts and regulations not the stuff made of dreams or fairy tales. My human side tells my I’m ignoring something that I should address. Ironically years ago I had been likened to Mr Spock in a gently mocking sort of way and I would took that as a compliment.
Great post! But as far as going to see the Hobbit at some point in the future, are you aware that 27 animals died preventable deaths in the making of the film? Do you really want your dollars to go to support such cruelty? See below.
http://www.peta.org/features/the-hobbit-unexpected-cruelty-infographic.aspx
Wordwizard: The deaths of the animals in question had nothing to do with the filmmakers. It was the work of disgruntled wranglers who were dismissed by the film crew for treating animals unethically. Any animal cruelty happened independently of the film, and boycotting the film will do absolutely no good whatsoever, except get PETA the attention it so desperately craves.
Facts can be found here: https://www.facebook.com/notes/peter-jackson/animal-allegations-on-the-hobbit/10151300381651558
Please don’t derail threads with this garbage.
http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/films/news/peta-to-picket-the-hobbit-premiere-after-whistleblower-reveals-preventable-deaths-and-needless-suffering-of-animals-on-set-8329326.html
I agree with Mr. McKinney. I love animals, but PETA provides no evidence other than the word of two former wranglers who were fired for unsafe practices. Meanwhile, no other employees of the production have come forward to corroborate this salacious claim. PETA should be ashamed.
If you read the link I offered above, you will see that FOUR people, not two, gave evidence. Also, the two that were fired, supposedly for unsafe practices (EMPLOYER’S claim), themselves say that they were ACTUALLY fired FOR COMPLAINING about unsafe practices. Since the two others who were NOT fired back up their version, it would be a shame to unthinkingly credit the employer’s version.
Love the post, I have not seen the Hobbit but I am a big Sci-Fi fan. I think someone mentioned Dune in a previous post. What I always liked about Dune was that it portrayed mysticism as a tool for controlling populations, not a fact. For the most part Frank Herbert focuses on society and the evolution of humans. He got away from technology. Kind of over the head of most kids. Still I think of Dune and Star Trek as good sci-fi and good science.
FYI: Beware Wordwizard, I had to block him on my posts. He takes things a little too personally. Plus he started stalking my other posts to make attack comments. Looked like he was starting the same thing here with the PETA post.
Is replying to a direct ad hominem attack like this one “taking things too personally”? Who blocked whose free speech? And followed it up by trying to poison the well? And “stalking [your] posts” to make “attack comments” is just plain ridiculous. I suppose my unfeigned compliment to Brendan McKinney of “Great post!” is also secretly an attack? Puh-leeze!
After reading through more of your posts I realize that you are passionate but not attacking me. If you check some of our other back and forth you will see I am appropriately contrite. You will also see the follow up post was deleted.
“Definition of Internet Troll and Online Trolling
In Internet terminology, a troll is a person who enters an established community such as an online discussion forum and intentionally tries to cause disruption, often in the form of posting messages that are inflammatory, insulting, incorrect, inaccurate, absurd, or off-topic, with the intent of provoking a reaction from others.” You make your own decision based on previous post Brendan.
This definition hinges upon intent. I may be judged by some to have been off-topic about The Hobbit, in which case I now apologize, but I did not “INTENTIONALLY TRY to cause disruption”, whereas YOUR posts referring to me CLEARLY have “the intent of provoking a reaction” from me. It is interesting that the critical comment I made about your Alternative Medicine post, which you followed up by blocking, was immediately followed by some person unknown to me praising my comment specifically. No one else has seen fit to comment at all….
Wordwizard, there is no doubt that your goal in posting your PETA propaganda was a deliberate attempt to deflect the discussion from the topic at hand toward your own personal agenda. It was intentional, it was inflammatory, and (unfortunately) it gave you exactly what you were seeking – an opportunity to cry “Oppression!” because others basically told you to STFU and GTFO.
As for your right to “freedom of speech”, this is a privately owned forum, and the first amendment simply does not apply.
To Stephen:
Thank you for your astute apology. (I think we are BOTH a little too fond of getting in the last word….)
To kneonknight:
Thank goodness Brian Dunning does not agree with you–He thinks controversy and disagreement are what make these reader comments worth while!
True.
Whether Mr. Dunning thinks you should be allowed to post or not is irrelevant as far as my comment goes. You invoked freedom of speech, which is a constitutiojnal right that simply says that the government will not prohibit you from making any asinine statement you wish. I stand by my statement that it does not apply here, and that the moderators/administrators/ owners of this forum can simply delete any or all comments for any or no reason whatsoever. That is their right, and you can’t do a thing about it, you matter how much you invoke the First Amendment.
Yes, disagreement and controversy can liven up a topic, but to drag in personal agendas that have absolutely nothing to do with the matter at hand is just a juvenile, attention-getting device that has no place in legitimate discussion.
As I’m sure everyone did, I immediately fell in love with Annie as a kid. So, for me, the most earth-shattering part of Star Wars was when Anikin first proved he had ‘gone to the dark side’. It not only taught me the importance of believing in the good in the world but also the luring tempations of the ‘dark side’.. and how easy you can change from good to bad, with empty tempations. Of course, he started out with darkness when he first made the choice to leave his mother. It grew from there, out of fear and anger, until he could no longer control it. Showing more of the dangers of trying to keep control where it’s impossible. Life isnt perfect, nor can you make it perfect. Heartbreaking realization to my younger self but necessary, nontheless. Not every story can have a happy ending. Though the saga has one, Anikin does not. That having been said, the original question of the post was about the importance of magic in the films. I believe including magic or supernatural makes the films loveable in a way that nothing else can. Its impossible, yet you want to believe. Its like a super-reality. Its everything our world has plus more. And that’s what we all want, isn’t it? Always more. Creating a world you can escape to when you’re own gives you doubts. And more than that, it gives you something to hope for. That there is more to our world than meets the eye. There’s great things out there to discover, and of course that good will ultimately trump bad.
Off topic: I wholeheartedly agree with kneonknight. “Great post!” was the first and only thing said relating to the topic. Superfluous information followed.
I am not trying to be mean here, but nobody fell in love with Ani Skywalker. This is because he was badly written and the prequel films were bad. Sorry.
Dont be sorry! If you dont like the prequel films, you dont like star wars. Therefore you wouldnt understand.
Meg, I think your response is a false dichotomy. It absolutely IS possible to not like the prequels and still like – nay, love – Star Wars. In fact, it seems that the “original” audience of Star Wars (i.e., those of us who saw the original release in the theaters) are more likely to dislike the prequels (for whatever reasons) than those who started with the prequels. But saying we don’t like Star Wars because we don’t like the prequels is like saying we don’t like candy because we don’t like Milky Way bars.
But in either case, both your responses were exaggerations – “everyone” did not fall in love with Ani or, nor did everyone fail to fall in love with him. There was a broad range of folks from hate to love and every point in the middle. I found the child Ani cute, but the teen a whiny PITA.
Point made. I was young when the movies came out and so i grew up with all of them at the same time. So, to me, its a package deal. I, me, myself loved Ani from the very start. Obviosly not everyone loves the same thing, but that was not my point.
I went to see Star Wars when it first came out — and the reason I liked Han Solo is that he went back to support a friend in a good cause DESPITE the fact that he didn’t really believe in the Force. And in our universe you don’t have to believe in God to do the right thing and be a good friend.
I would agree with much in the latter half of your post Meg if not totally endorse it. However, I’m not too enamoured with the prequels and really don’t like the character Anakin. For me believe it or not the only saving grace for these films character wise is the appearance of Yoda. In a way Yoda is the small green equivalent of Gandalf in my eyes.
I saw all the original films as they came out and was totally blown away. I have always found it strange that in a film that is placed in the future and relies heavily on technology, magic or religion was given a place. Surely this is completely at odds with shiny, clinical science.
In reality Star Wars reflects real life, as does The Lord of the Rings with regard to magic and religion in a way. At least that’s my personal experience. That’s not to say that I believe we live in a world of Jedi and Elves.
We live in an ever more technological age and yet science can not banish religion and those that claim to have no beliefs still find the need to argue against religion or substantiate their position. If I was agnostic I feel I could not be bothered, I mean why?
I’m studying the Hindu religion at the moment and I’m finding the complexity difficult. Why? because I visit India, I want to know what George Harrison found fascinating with the Hindu religion and I want to have a greater understanding of life. As a Christian it has already helped me to answer questions that my faith doesn’t address. It has also helped me understand that line in the Pink Floyd song Comfortably Numb, something I have experienced myself more than once.
“When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown
The dream is gone
I… Have become comfortably numb”
I have felt this all my life and have often wondered what drove Roger Waters to write this. Then all these years latter I find there is a part in Hinduism that explains this. That once or twice in a lifetime feeling when you look out into the distance over a sun dappled landscape or an azure sea and sky and you feel deep down that you can reach out and touch eternity or maybe more.
Unexpected, exhilarating and transient and then its gone and you feel both elated and drained. A heightened state but no drugs or illegal substances. I think Edgar Allan Poe experienced something similar.
An exert from MARGINALIA. BY EDGAR A. POE.
There is, however, a class of fancies, of exquisite delicacy, which are not thoughts, and to which, as yet, I have found it absolutely impossible to adapt language. I use the word fancies at random, and merely because I must use some word; but the idea commonly attached to the term is not even remotely applicable to the shadows of shadows in question. They seem to me rather physical than intellectual. They arise in the soul (alas, how rarely!) only at its epochs of most intense tranquillity — when the bodily and mental health are in perfection — and at those mere points of time where the confines of the waking world blend with those of the world of dreams. I am aware of these “fancies” only when I am upon the very brink of sleep, with the consciousness that I am so. I have satisfied myself that this condition exists but for an inappreciable point of time — yet it is crowded with these “shadows of shadows;” and for absolute thought there is demanded time’s endurance.
This has always fascinated me and I feel the two are connected.
Not looking for it, totally unexpected and then wham its there. Of course it could be a figment of the imagination or a malfunction of the brain.
Just as Ebenezer Scrooge thought Jacob Marley was, “You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese.”
The following is an extract from the Marillion song; This is the Twenty First Century.
For those not familiar with it I would suggest a visit to i tunes or Amazon is needed. It talks about the universe demystified. The full lyrics say it better than I can but there is one thing I should say here. Magic can be explained by logic and I do this myself all the time and that’s why I’m here on Skeptoid. But as I have said before there is always that doubt, that minuscule spec of a feeling that tells me all is not as we think.
A wise man once wrote
That love is only
An ancient instinct
For reproduction
Natural selection
A wise man once said
That everything could be explained
And it’s all in the brain
We lay on a velvet rug
by the open fire
She blew air on my eyelids
I cried “What’s it all about?”
As she kissed my hair
She said “There, there..”
“This is the 21st century
I heard everything you said
The universe demystified
Astronomy instead
This is the 21st century
Can’t you get it through your head?
This aint the way it was meant to be
Magic isn’t dead
Art reflects real live and real life often remarkably reflects art.
As most if not all of you know it was Charles Fort that said,
I conceive of nothing, in religion, science, or philosophy, which is more than the proper thing to wear, for a while.
I take this to mean consider all and rule nothing out but beware it all could be an illusion.