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escapism [copy]

Jordan~

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Re: Ahoy

Heh, the real world is so horribly overrated. All those disappointing people and boring places. It would be a different matter if every street hadn't been bleached into something faceless, bone-white, identical and uniform by consumerism.
 

Linsejko

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Re: Ahoy

What makes any fantasy world more interesting than the real world? There are no brighter colours there. There is nothing new there. It is merely a distortion of meaningless parameters of the true world.

Only a fantasy world could be as uniform as you describe; the real world is richly diverse, beautiful, terrible, dark, bright. But what is more, meaning is only found in the real world.

I despise any form of escapism that I ever find myself participating in; I cannot imagine the mentality of one who willingly indulges in such a lifestyle.

(I do not mean this to be offensive, and am not offended. I say this as a thorough explanation of the incoherency of your position to me. Just for web-clarification.)

.L
 

Jordan~

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Re: Ahoy

What makes any fantasy world more interesting than the real world? There are no brighter colours there. There is nothing new there. It is merely a distortion of meaningless parameters of the true world.

Only a fantasy world could be as uniform as you describe; the real world is richly diverse, beautiful, terrible, dark, bright. But what is more, meaning is only found in the real world.

I despise any form of escapism that I ever find myself participating in; I cannot imagine the mentality of one who willingly indulges in such a lifestyle.

(I do not mean this to be offensive, and am not offended. I say this as a thorough explanation of the incoherency of your position to me. Just for web-clarification.)

What makes a fantasy world more interesting than the real world? I can't quite pick out what it is, but there's something infinitely more appealing about a world that isn't real to one where it is. Maybe it's because there's no struggle in this world, in the West, anyway. When we're hungry we go to a supermarket (the same as every other one), when we need clothes we go to a department store or multinational clothing store chain (the same as every other one), etc,; while in a less advanced world, you go to see craftsmen, whose loving attention and personality is explicit in everything they produce, who take pride and care in their work. Or in a more advanced world, there are all the wonders of bright and shiny technology. Not to mention magic in many fantasy settings.

Perhaps the real world is richly diverse region to region, but within regions it's pretty much uniform. In Scotland at least, high streets are pretty much indistinguishable from eachother. Same shops, same produce, different place. It's the character that a fantasy setting offers that just isn't present in at least the West, unless you dig deep down for it. Fantasy worlds are never lacking in character. They have incredible cities of marble spires and palaces, intrigue abounding, and innumerable other elements that serve to make them seem alive. This world seems dead, and I only see that getting worse with globalisation.

Additonally, I dislike the real world. If I spent all my time here, I don't know how I'd cope. I can put up with all the terrible things that happen in the world going on in a place where I know they're not real, and where good always prevails. The real world is not like that. For every victory won by "good", "evil" wins another forty. It's a depressing place. Dark fantasy can be depressing, but at least the hero wins in the end, despite the hardships along the way.

It seems I'm the opposite of you. I'm utterly non-pragmatic. Anything practical is of nearly no interest to me at all. The subjects I like tend to be frivolous "knowledge for the sake of knowledge" ones, the news only ever depresses me, things like gardens and grand buildings interest me, while matters of economics and politics don't. I just find the real world to be thouroughly lacklustre. I'll admit, it does have its moments and its little treasures that make it worthwhile, but those tend to be hidden in a morass of grey misery.

I disagree strongly that meaning is only found in the real world. Fiction can be used as a medium for the expression of meaning, and if it works well, people find the intended meaning in the fiction. That's what art is, really.

What sorts of fantasy media?

Books, games, films, anything.
 

Linsejko

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Re: Ahoy

I disagree strongly that meaning is only found in the real world. Fiction can be used as a medium for the expression of meaning, and if it works well, people find the intended meaning in the fiction. That's what art is, really.
The expression of meaning is, itself, meaningless, unless it compels you to change "in the real world", or is expressed to others in the real world, so as to change/affect others. Practical & meaningful are not necessarily interchangeable; I wouldn't call myself practical at all times, though I recognize the wisdom of concerning yourself with practical applications. I am, however, infinitely concerned with meaningfulness.

The large majority of the world is not globalized. Even though I live in the US, in a prosperous city, my city is beautifully messy and unique- there are thousands of hidden gems to find, active culture, and always things to do. I recently bumped into a group that plays 4 way chess twice a week at this nice coffeeshop downtown, at 2am. That's just one recent example.

Perhaps Scotland is too limited a sample of the world, is what I'm getting at.

You say this world seems dead, and talk of beautiful cities in the fantasy world- yet all I can think to myself is how much more I'd rather experience the beauty of Paris, Rome, Beijing, the Grand Canyons, Angel Falls, Anchorage, etc., than just read about/look at an artists' rendering of a fabricated world that, honestly, I do not believe compares with the rich hues of nature.

I really think it's all a problem of perception. What you paint as "the real world" is much more dark and fantastically boring a place than is really there. You say there is no struggle in our world, yet wars are fought all around the world; single mothers in poverty are out there every day living the most dramatically wearing lives you can imagine; everyday out there is someone who is having their world turned upside down. Every single day, thousands upon thousands of people suffer a painful death of someone close to them. Every day someone finds hope, every day a child of destiny is born. Every person has a life story that is worth hearing, has struggles, heartbreaks, and victories that make their life worth hearing. All the things that are worth finding in a fantasy are really more readily available, and more attractive, and, simply, meaningful in the real world, in our world. Because at the end of the day, we are alive. We hurt. We love. The fantasy world is but a pale imitation of our true, living earth.

To see the world any differently seems a delusion; yet, I guess, a shameless escapist cannot be bothered by such a problem. Delusion is the rule of thumb to such a mind, and it is not a problem.

(I hope this does not distance us; I am just expressing my perception. I am perfectly fine with you agreeing to disagree in the end. It feels so silly offering these disclaimers, but still necessary enough to offer them regardless.)

.L
 

Vrecknidj

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Re: Ahoy

I've followed your rebuttals with some interest. They've forced me to take a look at my own perspectives and check myself. However, I find that I still disagree with you on some things.
All the things that are worth finding in a fantasy are really more readily available, and more attractive, and, simply, meaningful in the real world, in our world.
I think that if you'd changed that to this, I would agree:
All the things that I believe are worth finding in a fantasy are really more readily available, and more attractive, and, simply, meaningful in the real world, in our world.
I simply don't agree that your analysis must hold for the OP, or for me, or for anyone else. Your analysis very well might hold for many, perhaps most people, but I don't believe that it's exclusively correct against the alternative being presented. (Which isn't to say I disagree with many of your points about getting out there and seeing more of the world--I agree with you there.)
Because at the end of the day, we are alive. We hurt. We love. The fantasy world is but a pale imitation of our true, living earth.
This is true, but it's not a justification that requires anyone to prefer a fantasy world to the real one.

Dave
 

Dissident

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Re: Ahoy

You say this world seems dead, and talk of beautiful cities in the fantasy world- yet all I can think to myself is how much more I'd rather experience the beauty of Paris, Rome, Beijing, the Grand Canyons, Angel Falls, Anchorage, etc., than just read about/look at an artists' rendering of a fabricated world that, honestly, I do not believe compares with the rich hues of nature.
Very poetic and moving really. But you have to accept that most people will never be able to go to Paris, Rome, Beijing, the Grand Canyons, Angel Falls, Anchorage, etc., and looking at a picture is not any more "real" that drawings of an artist or a description of a writer.

I really think it's all a problem of perception. What you paint as "the real world" is much more dark and fantastically boring a place than is really there. You say there is no struggle in our world, yet wars are fought all around the world; single mothers in poverty are out there every day living the most dramatically wearing lives you can imagine; everyday out there is someone who is having their world turned upside down. Every single day, thousands upon thousands of people suffer a painful death of someone close to them. Every day someone finds hope, every day a child of destiny is born. Every person has a life story that is worth hearing, has struggles, heartbreaks, and victories that make their life worth hearing. All the things that are worth finding in a fantasy are really more readily available, and more attractive, and, simply, meaningful in the real world, in our world. Because at the end of the day, we are alive. We hurt. We love. The fantasy world is but a pale imitation of our true, living earth.
Yet most people have to work 50 hs a week in a meaningless job, dont fight in any war, poverty and sufering bring no meaning to their lives and certainly wouldnt consider themselves as childs of destiny.
Giving up the real world for a fantasy one is probably the worst thing someone could do, but if it brings them any joy or pleasure then i dont see whats wrong with having a place in their life for it. Even more in P&P RPGs in which you get to play diferent personalitys or exploring wild posibilities where the choices are made by you and its not predeterminated like in a video game for example. I find tabletop RPGs very interesting
 

Jordan~

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Re: Ahoy

The expression of meaning is, itself, meaningless, unless it compels you to change "in the real world", or is expressed to others in the real world, so as to change/affect others. Practical & meaningful are not necessarily interchangeable; I wouldn't call myself practical at all times, though I recognize the wisdom of concerning yourself with practical applications. I am, however, infinitely concerned with meaningfulness.

The large majority of the world is not globalized. Even though I live in the US, in a prosperous city, my city is beautifully messy and unique- there are thousands of hidden gems to find, active culture, and always things to do. I recently bumped into a group that plays 4 way chess twice a week at this nice coffeeshop downtown, at 2am. That's just one recent example.

Perhaps Scotland is too limited a sample of the world, is what I'm getting at.

You say this world seems dead, and talk of beautiful cities in the fantasy world- yet all I can think to myself is how much more I'd rather experience the beauty of Paris, Rome, Beijing, the Grand Canyons, Angel Falls, Anchorage, etc., than just read about/look at an artists' rendering of a fabricated world that, honestly, I do not believe compares with the rich hues of nature.

I really think it's all a problem of perception. What you paint as "the real world" is much more dark and fantastically boring a place than is really there. You say there is no struggle in our world, yet wars are fought all around the world; single mothers in poverty are out there every day living the most dramatically wearing lives you can imagine; everyday out there is someone who is having their world turned upside down. Every single day, thousands upon thousands of people suffer a painful death of someone close to them. Every day someone finds hope, every day a child of destiny is born. Every person has a life story that is worth hearing, has struggles, heartbreaks, and victories that make their life worth hearing. All the things that are worth finding in a fantasy are really more readily available, and more attractive, and, simply, meaningful in the real world, in our world. Because at the end of the day, we are alive. We hurt. We love. The fantasy world is but a pale imitation of our true, living earth.

To see the world any differently seems a delusion; yet, I guess, a shameless escapist cannot be bothered by such a problem. Delusion is the rule of thumb to such a mind, and it is not a problem.

(I hope this does not distance us; I am just expressing my perception. I am perfectly fine with you agreeing to disagree in the end. It feels so silly offering these disclaimers, but still necessary enough to offer them regardless.)

.L

I of course recognise that practicality is necessary, but it's not for me. Other people can be practical if that's what they like, I'll just live off it and tell them about the ancient Caananite faith.
To say that fiction is meaningless seems so... unimaginative and unromantic. Fiction is perfectly meaningful. It can change who you are in the real world, mould and shape and move people.
I've been to Paris, Rome, the Grand Canyon, and many other places. They're very pretty, yes, but Paris and Rome are considered two of the greatest cities on Earth, and the Grand Canyon one of its natural wonders. Plus, they're all so far away. Of course, nature is very beautiful, but when I went to most of these places I wasn't old enough to appreciate it. I do so much more now, and being abroad does have a certain exoticism about it that lends vibrancy and life to a place (until you find out that it's a tourist-infested hole).
Perhaps I'm not speaking clearly. When I say "the real world", I mean my real world, and I don't struggle at all, nor is there any lively, buzzing culture in Dundee. And the examples you give: single mothers struggling does not compare to a war against evil in which you could be struck down round every corner, and there's something very unromantic about the struggling single mother compared to the humble villagers who barely get by. Our wars are unjust: when a soldier dies on foreign soil it is a terrible accident, a death taken by a greedy government rather than by an equally matched enemy. Wars in fantasy are never like that, or if they are, at least they're not real. The thing is that modern struggles are just so unromantic. They're so commonplace and everyday that we just absorb them.
Of course, the delusion is deliberate. It's to forget for a while that the real world is out there. Perhaps I have higher principles, and that's what makes it seem darker. An example: meat. I'm assuming you're not a vegetarian, but imagine a world in which slaves are kept globally, and systematically murdered and eaten for no reason at all, other than the gluttony of their consumers. This, to me, is our world. Or a world in which half the people are liable to hate you for something you had no control over, which harms no one, for the reason that an old man who lived thousands of years ago wrote it down in a book. Also our world (though fortunately Scotland is quite a tolerant place, in the society I mix with, at least). Forgive me if I try to pretend I don't live in such a world, if I retreat to other worlds where the problems are always resolved, where things get better rather than worse.
You're wrong in saying that a fantasy world is a pale imitation: it's the opposite, an attempt to remove the things that make Earth Earth, but keep the concepts that exist within it and use them to make something different. If it imitated the real world, I'd avoid it like the plague.

(And I never agree to disagree. ;))
 

Vrecknidj

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Re: Ahoy

Fiction is a lie that tells the truth. You can learn more about love and loss from reading Shakespeare than reading an encyclopedia.

Of course, you can learn more about it by living than reading Shakespeare.

So, points to both sides.

:)

Dave
 

loveofreason

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The fantasy world - the fictional - would seem to be a human necessity that helps us to process the real. Escapism must surely be as old as the first campfire tale; as old as language itself and maybe even older. I would be careful not to doubt the value of such a thing.

Reading, and understanding, Shakespeare is beautiful. It holds a mirror to our lives and turns our grotesque-ries (sp?) into something magnificent. Maybe that is what you mean to be there all the time, linsejko, when you talk of the beauty of real life, but so many of us miss it. Fantasy takes that and magnifies and glorifies it, so we can no longer deny the attraction of life - while seeking to escape it. It's somewhat of a paradox.

copied from http://intpforum.com/showthread.php?p=6491#post6491 and so deserving of a thread all its own.
 

Linsejko

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Perhaps it is not a true paradox, but merely irony- when we find the real world offensive, we escape to a fantasy which is only, indeed, a distortion (or magnification, if you like, and depending on the fantasy in question), of the real world's potential.

I wonder if we use the word "Escapism" too lightly here? Escapism isn't just the act of entering a different world, but using that as a means to run from your own world. Reading and loving fiction is a fine thing- delving into fiction so as to drown out your reality is arguably not.

Perhaps I'm not speaking clearly. When I say "the real world", I mean my real world, and I don't struggle at all, nor is there any lively, buzzing culture in Dundee. And the examples you give: single mothers struggling does not compare to a war against evil in which you could be struck down round every corner, and there's something very unromantic about the struggling single mother compared to the humble villagers who barely get by. Our wars are unjust: when a soldier dies on foreign soil it is a terrible accident, a death taken by a greedy government rather than by an equally matched enemy. Wars in fantasy are never like that, or if they are, at least they're not real. The thing is that modern struggles are just so unromantic. They're so commonplace and everyday that we just absorb them.
I think a single mother's tale of struggling to survive in the word down part of town is as moving and compelling as the finest literature, at worst. It only requires that you adapt your heart to those around you, instead of the characters in your work, no? Surely her tears are more real than those described in a book? A narrative can be a beautiful thing, and I love good books. I've been reading as long as I have been conscious; my mother does not remember me ever being taught to read, and I've never stopped, not to this day. But I know that the greatest story can only be equal to reality; there is no greater standard it can reach for, nothing more moving it can aspire to relate, nothing more 'fantastic' it can demonstrate.

There are no emotions aroused from a story that are not also aroused in our life- and with more depth, and again- with purpose, with meaning.

To say that fiction is meaningless seems so... unimaginative and unromantic. Fiction is perfectly meaningful. It can change who you are in the real world, mould and shape and move people.
I agree than it can 'mold, shape, and move people'- indeed, I agreed with that in my last post. I also hold, however, that fiction is meaningless until it does that. What's further, I hold that it cannot do that as powerfully, as deeply, as real events can.

To be clear, I am arguing that the real world is more compelling to me than any fictional one.

Several respondents have mentioned that most do not experience these dramatic truths- but I say that this world is all around you. It's all a matter of perspective. The very thought of being engaged in a wearing life, day after day, without change, so boring that you escape into your fantasies to maintain sanity, is worthy of fiction it is so dramatic.

The capacity for love is within each of us. But the most significant factor is the facility to appreciate- to realize the wonder of the heavens above us, the beauty of the trees that live, the wonder of insects that live only for a season, reproduce, and then die, the fascination of the social faculties and codes your society lives through. Open your eyes- the world around you is a beautiful thing, not to be missed for an imitation! The people around you are of far more depth than any character from the pages of your novels, for the character of a novel is simply an imitation of man!

It is worthy of note that some have said this same faculty of wonder described is the single most important quality of a philosopher.

My last admonition is to go out and live dramatically. If you live a life that bores you, is it not within your power to change it? The drones of society choose to live as they do. They have followed the easy way, the way their society has guided them; there is no reason to complain, only to change. Move to another country on a whim if you need to. Take up a hobby that can captivate you. Fall in love, both with the world and the people in it.

There's no other way to live, really.

.L
 
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loveofreason

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There's irony there. I grant you that.

You expressed yourself well. There are certainly degrees and types of escapism, and we are probably all describing something unique to ourselves when we talk about it here.

Perhaps even one person's escape is another's reality.

I agree there is nothing that compares to the absolute majesty of the earth and the cosmos. But when I am rapt in the heavens or in the unfolding of a flower, I am escaping the absolute meanness of humanity. I am escaping a world in which the heavens are considered a corporate billboard (unnamed cola company you are a pox on life!) and a simple flower condemned as a weed, if it is even noted at all.

I am escaping the worst of myself and the profound and unrelenting pain that my daily failures engender. I, for one, am not escaping boredom. I am seeking relief from pain.

I am seeking to erase the blemish from life.
 

Jordan~

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"I agree there is nothing that compares to the absolute majesty of the earth and the cosmos. But when I am rapt in the heavens or in the unfolding of a flower, I am escaping the absolute meanness of humanity. I am escaping a world in which the heavens are considered a corporate billboard (unnamed cola company you are a pox on life!) and a simple flower condemned as a weed, if it is even noted at all."

I quote this because it applies to me, also. I'm not escaping the world as much as the people who live in it, the people who spoil it. You say that real people have much deeper characters than characters in books - that may be so, but most real people don't interest me or are complete assholes, for want of a better word. I see things like staring at the cosmos as escapism - can you call that "the real world"? Is there anything really "real" about lying back and beholding the stars? While it may be in the real universe, it's not a feature of real human experience (for most of us). Of course, there are people who can go out and be spontaneous and have real adventures, not complaining for a moment that it's cold and dark and the light from the city's obscuring the sky anyway; or who can go into a forest and take close-up photographs of beautiful things and spend a day in awe of the beauty of nature, those who "live dramatically". I am not such a person. Perhaps one day I will be - my age restricts my freedom - but at present, I have to be content with reading about other people doing grander things, and dreaming. And there is a reason besides that I don't have the means, which I'll deal with later.

I have my own drama in my life, but it takes the shape of social politics. This is not so much exciting and invigorating as it is wearisome and tiresome, especially to one who behaves tactfully and diplomatically to preserve harmony and prevent further conflict, rather than out of a true desire to patch things up between people. This drama is something I escape from, not a reason not to escape.

Attribute it to limited experience if you like, but some of the strongest emotions I've ever felt have been inspired by fiction - semi-autobiographical fiction, in the form of songs, but fiction nonetheless. Of all the strong emotion I've derived from real life, only negative ones come to mind - sobbing due to conflict with my family, being angry and frustrated at the injustice and unfairness of things, or thouroughly miserable on contemplating for the first time some of the darker realisations that came from my investigation into philosophy. There is one instance of pride which comes to mind (pride the source of which was instigated, incidentally, by a work of fiction, a song). These emotions are certainly only as deep as the emotion I can derive from music (a form of fiction, or at least a medium for escapism - to me, anyway), and that emotion from music was happiness: one of the few occasions I remember being overcome with happiness, perhaps the only one - though, to be fair, I do struggle to recall how I felt at a moment, mostly I can only recall details of the event.

To return to the example of the single mother: Her story is a great tragedy, yes, but it is a pitiful one; except in the rare cases where everything works out and it all ends well (I've only seen this happen in movies). Mostly, they're victims of the inefficiency of a government run by uninspiring faceless men in grey suits - people without prospects, living in the worst of poverty and suffering within this very nation, which is supposed to be a place of equality and justice. That's not something to be in awe at, it's something to escape from.

Yes, one can go out and look at flowers and trees and be happy with how nice everything is. That is, if one ignores the inevitable reminders of the fact that it's not all nice when one does so. The house I live in is built on land which was once a forest, as is the city, and most of the country. A proud, lush forest, full of life and vibrance. Now what is there? A patchwork of identical fields, some growing death, others hay; and a blockish landscape of grey concrete blocks. I can't go out and marvel at nature without thinking of it as a caged beast, something wild and feral and magnificent that has been beaten and scarred by the blight of mankind, a blight of which I am a part, regardless of my wishes. In other words, I can go out and enjoy nature, but that, to me, is escapism - escapism from which I can only derive short-term enjoyment, since the experience is, in the long run, depressing: a visit to a ruined empire, a sad reminder that what once was great now lies in fragments, broken, by a hand of which I am a small muscle.

I am filled with wonder at the world, and I do love it - but it is that very wonder and love that makes it such an upsetting place for me, that desire to see it returned to what it once was, to see it made into what it has never been, and knowing that that desire can never be fulfilled: it's one against seven billion. It's that potential that you mention there at the start that means I can't enjoy it. Anything with unrealised potential, potential that can never be realised, depresses me greatly; and this world has so much of that. I love the world, but I can't say I love the people in it. In fictonal worlds, the attachment is not as deep, and the potential is realised in the end; the universe returned to its rightful order. That doesn't happen in this world.

That hobby that you mentioned, the one that can captivate me - that's what I spend most of my time doing: hiding in fantasies.
 

Kuu

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How nietzschean.

Man has an invincible inclination to allow himself to be deceived and is, as it were, enchanted with happiness when the rhapsodist tells him epic fables as if they were true, or when the actor in the theater acts more royally than any real king. So long as it is able to deceive without injuring, that master of deception, the intellect, is free; it is released from its former slavery and celebrates its Saturnalia. It is never more luxuriant, richer, prouder, more clever and more daring.

On the more negative side of escapism... is anyone familiar with the work of Jean Baudrillard and his ideas on simulacra and hyperreality?
 

Zero

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I'm not constantly in a state of escapism, but I have my escapes and why not?

I'm not exactly satisfied with my life 100% of the time. I always have more obligations to fulfill, expectations I fail to live up to and people I don't understand. I always look around and wish the world could work out better. I might be a bit ambitious, but sometimes I think my "dreams" are plausible realities.

Sometimes I'm prone to "escape", because of boredom. Yes, the world around me sure is fascinating..., but I'm not much of an S type and I'm prone to distraction. I don't really know if I would call whatever I suffer from escapism or some odd coping mechanism.

It seems habitual. I was kind of stressed when I was younger. I had issues with my parents, issues with myself, not getting along with other kids, hating school... I was often in "escape" mode.

I can't imagine how happy and satisfied with life a person must be to never have escapes.
.... ...
.... ...
I'm not that person.
 
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Cabbo Pearimo

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Me Playee das Bass for escaping.
 

Zero

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I wish I had some musical talent. I would like to play the piano I muse. I tried guitar, I don't seem to have the patience for it though.
 

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When I was a child, and through my teenage years, I read fiction voraciously (three to five books a day, sometimes more). This was escapism at a time that I needed it. After I moved in with my girlfriend (now wife), I stopped reading fiction, and from that point on have read almost exclusively non-fiction.
I find the real world much more interesting, and true life stories every bit as incredible as fiction. Most of the time, I regard fiction as pointless, and usually only read the occasional classic that I may have missed as a teen, or something that one of my daughters recommends to me.
As a teenager I watched all the movies that came along, but now I usually only watch foreign films (preferably subtitled), or reality based movies and programs. Somehow, foreign films have more true to life characters and relationships, and I can identify with them. Okay, I will say it . Foreign films are better.
I will admit to thoroughly enjoying the Harry Potter series (which ended much too soon, as each book took half a day to read), but I don't believe that it was escapism. I think it was more an appreciation of a good story with well developed characters.
I am a traveller. I enjoy travel journals on the internet, and travel books and television programs. That is escapism to me. I can't get to all the places I want to escape to, so I have to enjoy many of them vicariously.
I am content with my life, so I don't need to escape. I have a bicycle, a motorcycle, and nearby forests, streams and lakes to keep me content.
 

Ogion

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I don't see, where the difference between a fictional world, and reports about the 'real' world should be. I mean, the real world, meaning the physical world *is*, but how we perceive it that depends upon our senses and more importantly about our mind. We construct a picture of the real world all the time in our mind. We take what our senses report from the outside and create an image according to that. This image, i am very sure of, is different for each and every person/consciousness. So i and my neighbour we are perceiving and creating an image of the real world all the time and probably very differently.

What priority has the 'real' world, to other constructs/images in our mind? Well, we are physical beings, and what happens in our mind does not 'concern' the physical world. My body and brain have to be fed; for my genes to carry on, i have to reproduce. Apart from that, is there something in the real world, which has priority?
When i create an image from the real world all the time, why should it be different, for mental business, from a fictional world, which i too create in my mind, only without input from my senses (actually, there is of course input from my senses: For example with a tabletop rpg, there is the sensory input from my co.lpayers, the character sheet, the dice and so on, and of course i create the fictional world in the image of my experience with the 'real' world; with memory of the image of a tree, of a rock, of clouds...).
So my question: Why would it be 'bad', if a person, given his bodily needs satisfied, only concerns himself with a or multiple fictional worlds? I mean, is the person with a flourishing imagination and vividly dreaming and creating fictional worlds intellectually and/or spiritually/emotionally poorer than that now often cited lone mother with a real hard life, with nothing to think off except the next meal? Has this person, which is creating himself perhaps one or perhaps multiple worlds some kind of mental illness, mental poverty?

I do mean these questions seriously and it depends on a convincing answer from the ones who claim 'escapism' a bad thing for me to be against fiction.
I for myself have come to the cnoclusion, that there is nothing holding the mind, apart from bodily needs, and there shouldn't be. Even more, i think it to be regreettable that there *are* bodily needs!

One other thing regarding the richness of the real world: For me it is of no question at all, that a fictional world is *much* more rich than the real world. You want to know why? Because i create the fictional world of course in the image of the real world while my mind is able to imagine things, which in real life are not possible. A tree in my fictional world looks like a tree in the real world. I can go to the forest and still imagine myself being in a fictional world. So every aspect of the real world can be in my fictional world. But not vice versa. I can imagine something like a "warp drive" which would carry me faster than light. That is not possible in the real world (at least not according to our momentary understanding of it).

Sure, the real world is the role model, how could it not be us being biological objects in it. and i suppose there are things, which we could not grasp with the wildest imagination. But there are things, which are imaginable, but not 'real'

Ogion

P.S.: Perhaps i sound very much like an 'escaped' person. I am not. I just have a vivid imagination, just love reading and thinking about fictional worlds etc. I also am interested in world politics, physics, geography, the taste of chocolade, tv series, the concerns of a friend and biological necessities of human existence. And all the rest there is. But to this rest, imagination is part of.
 

Jordan~

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The difference between the real world and a fictional world is that I can choose how much emotional attachment I have to a fictional world. If I dislike it, I can put it down. If I enjoy it, I can pursue it further. You can't do that with the real world.
The thing I dislike about the real world is that it is real. I care about it more deeply than I do about fictional worlds, so it hurts more when its potential is nothing even remotely resembling "recognised", never mind "fulfilled". If I don't like the world of a book, at least I know that the protagonist will win, and none of it is true.
As I struggle to picture images, even a little (sometimes an image comes to mind unbidden for a brief moment before fading away again, but I can never control it and actually form a mental picture of something, only understand the details) I must say that I don't experience the depth that the above poster does, but I still enjoy immersing myself very much.
For the poster above the poster above, I just can't appreciate the real world like you can. Certain aspects of it - the beautiful and amazing ones, great gardens and buildings, natural wonders and exotic landscapes, etc. - I enjoy, and they fascinate me. The character of a city with strong and thriving culture, like Paris or Rome, is the same. But for the vast majority of it, I find nothing interesting. I suppose my problem is that as soon as I get used to something, I get bored of it. Perhaps I'm being slightly too hard on the real world, I could list a lot of things I love about it; but I think it's the fact that there are things I love about it that make it hard for me to put up with - each imperfection is only magnified by the few (near-)perfections.
I may start a new thread, about sensitivity, and not necessarily emotional sensitivity. I find that I have something that I call "aesthetism", that is, a greater than normal appreciation of beauty. For example, when watching a BBC documentary series about the world's most spectacular gardens, Around the World in 80 Gardens, I was brought to tears by the beauty of some of the gardens shown. Music, too, can have much the same effect: of the five songs on my favourite album, four have made me cry several times, and still can if I'm the right mood. Basically, I can derive a lot of very strong emotion from works of art and beauty, and seeing anything of the sort spoiled is near unbearable. If any of you have read the short story Sun and Moon by Katherine Mansfield, think Sun. I think perhaps this translates to other things, as well, and this could be the reason I can't properly enjoy the real world - because I have a kind of attachment to it, seeing it spoiled outwith my control breaks my heart.
 

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Although I agree that there is nothing wrong with it, there are other things that demand our attention other than our bodily needs. What about a father that works as little as posible, just enough to feed his children, and uses all his free time playing games, reading, whatever, instead of trying to get a better job to give his family a better life? The diference between the images produced in your mind from the real objects and the images produced by your mind by itself is that the real world has consecuences for other people, and if you dont pay attention you may ruin other people's lives. As long as you fulfill the duties, the responsabilities, etc. that you accepted explicitly or implicitly you are free to do whatever you want with the rest of your time, thats what I think atleast.
 

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Of course, if you have real life commitments, those come first. That goes without saying, your negligence can hurt people in real life, a book or a game can always wait. I'm 15, however, and gay with no intention of adopting. Of course I mean to look after myself, and whoever I end up with - and preferably in comfort - but there's always time for a little retreat.
 

Dissident

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Sure there is, lets organize a D&D game on the forum!!! :p






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Ogion

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Hm, perhaps my post was kinda.... Well it sounds a bit more strongly than i really think about it. It isn't that i only live in fictional worlds. It was a bit philosophically speaking.

Of course, if i have a responsibility, i will put that first, that should be undoubted. One can avoid having responsibilities (like not founding a familiy), but sure should stay with a promise, duty (the word duty however is kinda loaded, i think. For example i do not feel a duty to my 'fatherland', but i feel a debt to 'society', in the form that i get benefits from it, so i should give some back)... But for now that i am single and have few responsibilities (like some 'duty'/loyalty to family...), i can indulge myself in everything that interests me, be that fictional world or real world.

I just wanted to bring a new view to the topic. A perhaps a bit philosophical view (pointing out, that the memory is the thing that stays from the real world, but you sure can 'invoke' it for the use of imagination in a fictional world).

Actually, even in a fictional world with some reallifeimpossible things (like warp, magic or whatever), the thing of real importance is mostly the persons and relations and actions and beliefs, worldviews. The fictional world just gives us the framework to test our views, to test our reactions to things, our actions (ok, that is of course not accurate, since you only know what you will do in a certain situation when you come to it: "That bridge i will cross when i reach it.") It enables me for example to test how i feel myself as being a liberator of slaves, or a beast slayer, or as a king or whatever else (these to words actually describe it) i choose to be, which i probably couldn't be in the real world, because there is the wrong framework for me (or say the only framework. I mean, i sure could have came to the world with the chance of being a liberator, but what if i would like to test something else then?). Fictional worlds give me the possibility to test myself in so much thinkable situations.

Ogion
 

Jordan~

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Admittedly, I've never played! :o I'd love to, though, I know a bit of the rules and heck, I'm INTP, I could pick them up fairly quickly. Sure, we could organise a game, if you wanted; got to start some time. :P
 

Ogion

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Well coming from Germany i am much more comfortable with DSA (Das Schwarze Auge; its just the name, silly one). It's the biggest german pen&paper rpg. D&D i do know mostly from computer rpgs.

Well i never played rpg over internet. For me it is something with a few people, pen, paper and dice ;)
But creativity and fictional worlds don't end with rpg. We could talk about good books, or try to write together something interesting or whatever...

Ogion
 

Dissident

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I was mostly joking, it would surely be a lot of fun but it would make us look even more nerd than we are :D (not my case since I do play, but still...:p)

I dont think there is enough people who play it anyway.
 

Jordan~

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More nerdy than we are? Look around you! :P
 
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