the story of the illusionist, part four

the past month has been a roller coaster of ups and downs. there's been a number of changes that have had some influence on my mind and thinking. this past month has made myself the question: what is perseverance? they say perseverance increases after going through tough times, and you would get stronger and stronger after each victory. and once you pad up your perseverance meter to max, you will then be able to deal with anything that comes your way.

but what if the drop from the up to the down is just greater than your total gauge? is it the total displacement of roller coaster, or the absolute value? so much for being able to deal with everything.

sigh. either way, it's a relief that i'm seeing horace again. i want to stop him from running away so fast, sit him down, and just talk to him directly. maybe part of me just wants to go to someone that is willing to listen, and ask them those questions, and have them tell me exactly what i want to hear! some naive part of me.

i pull open the door of the coffee shop, and my eyes squinted a bit from the lighting. it wasn't really the lighting: it was more like straining my eyes to look because being frustrated makes it harder to see. i strained my eyes to look for horace in his familiar black jacket, but to my surprise i could not find him. i rubbed my eyes a bit and gave another look. i still didn't see him.

then i felt a bit awkward, standing around and feeling stood up. as i looked around, i caught a glimpse of eye contact from the barista, so i looked in her direction. she looked at me, smiled, and gestured me over.

"hey you've been here a couple times before. are you looking for horace?"
"you know horace? i'm supposed to meet with him right now."
"i've worked here long enough to see you guys meet every month or so. horace came by the store before we even opened and asked me to leave you this letter." i was surprised.
"how did you know it was me? did he describe me to you?"
"it seemed like he already knew that i knew. somehow. he's not much of a talker, is he?"
"not at all. but thanks for the letter."

she gave me the letter and i ordered a small coffee. i'm a bit dissapointed that he didn't sat down and opened it up.


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

dear victor,

i am not at the coffee shop today because i am visiting a number of locations to find good illusionist venues. the process of finding a good venus is painstaking, and the perfect illusion requires perfect background. i am travelling all over the city and out of the city in search of venues. so i gave my letter to the coffee girl and nothing will change from a normal day.

what is the perfect venue, you ask? a building is an empty shell until you fill it, but you must be able to envision the building filled. last time i told you that humans are addicted to the story. can the building provide the scene for an exciting story? that is what you look for. but there is more. what i'm telling you now can take advantage of petty human behaviour. humans are also addicted to mysticism. they resist what they have the ability to know but do not know, but are strangely drawn to what they do not know nor have the ability to know. it is the strange, the unproven and the unknowable. you try to grasp it, but it slips through your fingers as you reach. is it because we can never attain it that we want it so much? because when we finally find the way to grab what we cannot, we realize it isn't so special, and we discard it promptly.

religion is the drug of humanity because it is so ungraspable. it is like reaching for formless air, visible in the mind but physically impossible. and it is only because of the element of mysticism that attracts humans to it. think about the flux of general human belief in history: was judeo-christianity not the dominant religion? but what about now? the mystery has passed, we've heard it all from them. there is a new age of religious belief now, but not because those religions are more true than the others. but it is the mysticism that has been replaced. the human no longer knows again. give it another generation, and christianity will become mysterious and prosperous again.

that is how you make an illusion. you never want your audience to find out what you are doing. you want to engage your audience, but envelope them with mystery. you must shock their mental worldview, and not let it get back up. then they will desire to know more, want more and eat it all up. but you cannot deprive them completely. tease them. drop a morsel. one drop on their ravenous tongues and they will crave it all the more, licking their lips, savouring the taste that lasts only for a second. then the night will be over, and they can only get their fill at the next show. they won't know it, but their behaviour will make me the perfect illusionist, who creates the illusion for enjoyment but the real illusion is to control their behaviour to give me money.

you have a girl problem. doesn't everyone? maybe the true problem is that you are in an illusion. maybe you like this girl because you really know her. there is a mystery among her that she will not let you know, and that frustrates you, but you still want to know it. you don't know what you're doing. once you find out what you don't know, will you swiftly discard what you've finally acquired?


horace.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


a shocking letter. a twisted sense of religion, and a sick idea of manipulating people like they were commodities. as weird as all the stuff he talks about i always find myself wondering whether he's got a point. the imagery was heavy. the moment of craving shifted to refuse. i didn't want it to be that way.

i pull out my cell phone to find my friend's number.

i call.