an image diary

"And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be? ... You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream! If that there King was to wake you'd go out -- bang! -- just like a candle!"

"Hush! You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise."

"Well it's no use your talking about waking him when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."

Sunday, December 5, 2004

The real rabbit hole

is his mother's face when she sees that you've talked him through The Matrix and that he loves it--gets it even--at five. Not ten minutes into the film he said to me: "I love Neo."

Now I'd like to say that he has no idea what he loves, but that would reveal the small person I'm prone to become when I'm around him. I should say he knows what's loveable but not what's dangerous in loving. The violence? Oh, the violence this son will let roll off--he's never been interested in warfare or kills or tyranny. No. All I said was that Neo was to become a hero, a superhero, and he knew exactly how to feel. A little shaken, full of love, knowing, hoping: there is a savior.

We will be saved or else fucked, right?

"I love Neo."


"and what is the use of a book...without pictures or conversations?"

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