But not the point of this post. My argument is: perception of reality is other people. Sartre’s life musta sucked.
Case study: Tonight I walked into a sliding-glass door.
Surrealist take: Somewhere in Florida, a girl sits alone in her apartment, staring at her computer, for hours. After a while, she stands, walks into the sliding-glass door next to her desk, then sits back down and looks at the computer for several more hours.
Realist take: Somewhere in Florida, a girl logs onto her computer. She scrolls for a while, her apartment quiet save for the occasional clicks of her mouse. She reads reports of a freak snowstorm, but isn’t clear on where. Hoping to distraction it’s right outside on her balcony, she gets up and walks to the sliding glass door. But in her excitement she’d forgotten: Somebody has shut the sliding glass door… It is an explosion.
Pop Art Take: A girl has been tagged at Somewhere in Florida and on her Facebook Feed sees her friends’ proclamations of SNOW!! Like Calvin’s Snowman Suicides she jumps up, strides naked in a pearl necklace to the sliding-glass door, runs into it BAM! and staggers back to her IKEA chair and reports everything on her juicy red Apple white computer.
Clearly I hit my head.
Plane tickets in hand for a trip to NYC and CT May 3 - 8! Iiiiiiiiiiit’s Floralia! Also, my roommate’s birthday.