Illusions by Richard Bach Page A

          "You asked a question. "
                 "Yes. Do you have an answer?"
                 "That is my answer. We went to the movie because you asked a question. The movie was the answer to your question."
                 He was laughing at me, I knew it.
                 "What was my question ?"
                 There was a long pained silence. "Your question, Richard, was that even in your brilliant times you have never been able to figure out why we are here."
                 I remembered. "And the movie was my answer. "
                 "Yes "
                 "Oh "
                 "You don't understand," he said.
                 "No "
                 "That was a good movie," he said, "but the world's best movie is still an illusion, is it not? The picture' aren't even moving; they only appear to move. Changing light that seems to move across a flat screen set up in the dark?"
                 "Well, yes." I was beginning to understand.
                 "The other people, any people anywhere who go to any movie show, why are they there, when it is only illusions?"
                 "Well, it's entertainment," I said.
                 "Fun. That's right. One."
                  "Could be educational."
                 "Good. It is always that. Learning Two."
                 "Fantasy, escape."
                 "That's fun, too. One. "
                 "Technical reasons. To see how a film is made."
                 "Learning. Two. "
                 "Escape from boredom . . ."
                 "Escape. You said that."
                 "Social. To be with friends," I said.
                 "Reason for going, but not for seeing the film. That's fun, anyway. One."
                 Whatever I came up with fit his two fingers; people see films for fun or for learning or for both together.
                 "And a movie is like a lifetime, Don, is that right?"
                 "Yes."
                 Then why would anybody choose a bad lifetime, a horror movie ?"
                 "They not only come to the horror movie for fun, they know it is going to be a horror movie when they walk in," he said.
                 "But why ? . . ."
                 "Do you like horror films ?"
                 "No."
                 "Do you ever see them ?"
                 "No."
                 "But some people spend a lot of money and time to see horror or soap-opera problems that to other people are dull and boring? . ." He left the question for me to answer.
                 "Yes."
                 "You don't have to see their films and they don't have to see yours. That is called 'freedom. "'
                 "But why would anybody want to be horrified ? Or bored ?"
                 "Because they think they deserve it for horrifying somebody else, or they like the excitement of horrification or that boring is the way they think films have to be. Can you believe that lots of people for reasons that are very sound to them enjoy believing that they are helpless in their own films? No you can't."
                 "No, I can't," I said.
                 "Until you understand that, you will wonder why some people are unhappy. They are unhappy because they have chosen to be unhappy, and, Richard, that is all right!"
                 "Hm."
                 "We are game-playing, fun-having creatures, we are the otters of the universe. We cannot die, we cannot hurt ourselves any more than illusions on the screen can be hurt. But we can believe we're hurt, in whatever agonizing detail we want. We can believe we're victims, killed and killing, shuddered around by good luck and bad