"You know that Santa isn't real, right?" she asked.
"I'm thirty years old," he said. "Yes. I know that Santa isn't real. I also know that reindeer can't fly."
"Of course, reindeer can fly. They just don't want people to know about it."
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"Doing what?" she asked, smiling at him. "You have to know what to believe in, for it to be real."
"Reindeer cannot fly. Too heavy and besides, I don't think they could breathe that high up in the air."
"Seriously? You think they can breathe that high up?"
"It doesn't matter why, but they can't fly."
"We live in a simulation. If reindeer are programed to fly, they'll fly. Remember the old saying, anything is possible." That's because the things who wrote the code can make anything happen. Humans just make things up to explain why those things happen. But none of it's real."
"But they didn't code for flying reindeer."
"Do you know what reindeer do when you aren't looking at them?" she asked. "What if, when you aren't looking at something it doesn't exist, or maybe it flies."
"Do not bring me into your Matrix."
"Just saying," she sang, dancing away. "None of it's real. We, my love, are simply another video game designed by idiots and evil things."
"You are not making me think happy Christmas thoughts."
"Is that my job?" she asked, standing still, staring at him. "To make you think happy Christmas thoughts?"
"I suppose not."
"Good answer," she said, throwing herself onto his lap. "You need to read Philip Dick."
"No."
"You need to rewatch the Matrix films and pay attention."
"No. I don't want to be on the sub. I want to pretend life is real and good."
"Then I fear we must go our separate ways," she said, pretending to faint.
"But I can't live without you," he said, grinning at her.
"I promise I'll show up at your funeral," she giggled, kissing his nose.
"Let's get a dog."
"And a cat."
"Okay," he said.
"We're coded for that. Just remember that if you get killed in this game, you just come back as a different character."
"I hate it when you talk video game to me," he said, hugging her.
"We aren't real."
"We're real enough."
"I never thought of that."
"Maybe we don't have to be more real than this," he said.
"Is it possible to be more of something?"
"Depends on what it is, I guess."
"The striving to be more, drives people crazy," she whispered. "What if there isn't any more?"
"I'm happy with what I have," he said.
"But don't you question our existence?"
"Couldn't care less. Just living in the moment," he muttered, hugging her.
"Living in the now."
"Now's all we have."
"And you don't thing it's weird that right this second is all there is? That you can't see a second behind, or in front of you. That we are locked into this moment only. One moment at a time? That nothing actually exists except this instance?"
"Sure it's weird," he said. "I just don't care."
"And you don't think reindeer can fly?"
"I do not," he said.
"Maybe you should look out the window."
"Are reindeer flying outside?" he laughed.
"They are," she said, smiling.
"Wait," he said. "What?"
"Go look," she said, standing and pulling him up off the couch.
He grunted, and walked to the window. He stood there for a few minutes, then turned and said. "I need to watch the Matrix movies again."
"Merry Christmas," she said.
No comments:
Post a Comment