action—all of it—is just a physical and chemical process that started at the big bang. We’re all just clumps of atoms, playing out their scripts. None of us are free. Choice, morality… they’re just evolved mental constructs. Illusions.”
“Well, then I’d rather live in an illusion that’s nice instead of an illusion that’s mean. What’s the point of your philosophy if it just makes you an asshole?”
“Philosophies don’t need a purpose. They’re about what’s true. And alas, mine is.”
Heavy, muffled sobs suddenly emerged from behind the closed doors to Cole’s bedroom. Oh, sweet victory. If Crystal had broken down in tears, all was going well. Brandon felt all his problems slipping away.
Heather turned back from the noise. “Regardless, Brandon, other people besides you do have lives and purposes, however arbitrary you may think they are. People like Crystal and Cole. And your actions affect them.”
Oh, she was good! But Brandon, as always, was a little better. “I don’t think their purposes are arbitrary. They are arbitrary, objectively.”
Heather raised her arms in a flustered gesture. “Okay, try this then. Everything is meaningless to you, right? All beliefs are illusions? But you believe in… what? Nihilism? That’s a belief. That’s meaningful to you.”
“Damn, it really threatens you that I’ve renounced all value systems, doesn’t it?”
“It’s hypocritical.”
“Is it? How?”
Heather rolled her eyes in that vaguely sexy way she did sometimes. “I can’t even argue with you about it because every time I make a point you just say that there is no point. You just avoid the argument and say you’ve won.”
“Hey, I’m arguing now. Isn’t that what we’re doing?”
“And you always make fun of religion for being a closed system that keeps people from asking questions, but isn’t… whatever you believe… isn’t it the same thing?”
Brandon inhaled deeply and sighed. Heather and he had these discussions twice every month or so (once even while shooting a porn video), and they always ended with Heather oblivious and Brandon bored. He often wondered what it would take to make her finally get it . As he turned over the jack of spades, a flash of insight came to him.
“I had a friend once,” he said. Crystal continued blubbering behind the doors while he stood and sauntered toward Heather. “He was a cop. And not one of the douchebag ones. This was a really, really righteous dude, fighting for justice and all that. But alas, he fell victim to that infamous kryptonite that slays all heroes: he fell in love. With a woman from the streets. A prostitute. They met surreptitiously, and he hid their romance from his buddies. He gave her his time, his money, his adoration, his friendship. They had a child together.”
Brandon paused next to a recliner and tapped his fingers on it. He nearly decided to just sum up the rest of the story and sit back down, but no, Heather needed to hear this. She needed to grasp the emotional impact. “But my friend’s sergeant found out and wasn’t too fond of this relationship. Kicked my friend off the force. With no job, he lost his house, his car.”
“That sucks.” Despite all the videos they’d made together, Heather seemed to grow uncomfortable as Brandon drew close to her. She broke eye contact and stared at the ground, and he knew he was winning, even before finishing his story.
“Yeah, it did suck. I let him stay with me for a while. Even gave him some money to start a business. But then there was a drug bust, and his lady friend was involved. He got there just in the nick of time, but she got caught in the crossfire between the cops and the dealers, so my friend jumped in to protect her.”
Brandon paused for emphasis.
“His sergeant shot him twice in the back.”
Heather glanced toward Cole’s room as if hoping the lovebirds would exit and save her from this conversation. But he had her cornered: a captive
“Well, then I’d rather live in an illusion that’s nice instead of an illusion that’s mean. What’s the point of your philosophy if it just makes you an asshole?”
“Philosophies don’t need a purpose. They’re about what’s true. And alas, mine is.”
Heavy, muffled sobs suddenly emerged from behind the closed doors to Cole’s bedroom. Oh, sweet victory. If Crystal had broken down in tears, all was going well. Brandon felt all his problems slipping away.
Heather turned back from the noise. “Regardless, Brandon, other people besides you do have lives and purposes, however arbitrary you may think they are. People like Crystal and Cole. And your actions affect them.”
Oh, she was good! But Brandon, as always, was a little better. “I don’t think their purposes are arbitrary. They are arbitrary, objectively.”
Heather raised her arms in a flustered gesture. “Okay, try this then. Everything is meaningless to you, right? All beliefs are illusions? But you believe in… what? Nihilism? That’s a belief. That’s meaningful to you.”
“Damn, it really threatens you that I’ve renounced all value systems, doesn’t it?”
“It’s hypocritical.”
“Is it? How?”
Heather rolled her eyes in that vaguely sexy way she did sometimes. “I can’t even argue with you about it because every time I make a point you just say that there is no point. You just avoid the argument and say you’ve won.”
“Hey, I’m arguing now. Isn’t that what we’re doing?”
“And you always make fun of religion for being a closed system that keeps people from asking questions, but isn’t… whatever you believe… isn’t it the same thing?”
Brandon inhaled deeply and sighed. Heather and he had these discussions twice every month or so (once even while shooting a porn video), and they always ended with Heather oblivious and Brandon bored. He often wondered what it would take to make her finally get it . As he turned over the jack of spades, a flash of insight came to him.
“I had a friend once,” he said. Crystal continued blubbering behind the doors while he stood and sauntered toward Heather. “He was a cop. And not one of the douchebag ones. This was a really, really righteous dude, fighting for justice and all that. But alas, he fell victim to that infamous kryptonite that slays all heroes: he fell in love. With a woman from the streets. A prostitute. They met surreptitiously, and he hid their romance from his buddies. He gave her his time, his money, his adoration, his friendship. They had a child together.”
Brandon paused next to a recliner and tapped his fingers on it. He nearly decided to just sum up the rest of the story and sit back down, but no, Heather needed to hear this. She needed to grasp the emotional impact. “But my friend’s sergeant found out and wasn’t too fond of this relationship. Kicked my friend off the force. With no job, he lost his house, his car.”
“That sucks.” Despite all the videos they’d made together, Heather seemed to grow uncomfortable as Brandon drew close to her. She broke eye contact and stared at the ground, and he knew he was winning, even before finishing his story.
“Yeah, it did suck. I let him stay with me for a while. Even gave him some money to start a business. But then there was a drug bust, and his lady friend was involved. He got there just in the nick of time, but she got caught in the crossfire between the cops and the dealers, so my friend jumped in to protect her.”
Brandon paused for emphasis.
“His sergeant shot him twice in the back.”
Heather glanced toward Cole’s room as if hoping the lovebirds would exit and save her from this conversation. But he had her cornered: a captive
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