Wife: Of course! He won't just get good. He'll master that thing.
Husband: Are you sure? What about the kid who's forced to play football by his father and hates it? Will he get good, too?
Wife: Well, I think it's different, honey.
Husband: Why? They both have no choice whatsoever.
Wife: See, the football boy is living a good life and his pride is taken away.
Husband: And the prisoner?
Wife: What did he do to get in there?
Husband: Suppose it doesn't matter.
Wife: Then, I guess he is someone who has had his pride erased. He only has one way to go: up.
Husband: And the football boy?
Wife: What do you mean?
Husband: You said his pride was taken away, too.
Wife: Yes, but he isn't living in a vacuum like the prisoner. Because the prisoner has no hope for escape -- let's suppose that, at least -- he is forced to start over. He is forced to embrace the hobby laid in front of him and mater it. The football boy, however, can see the world wide-open all around him. He has a choice. He can choose to hold onto that inkling of pride, no matter how small. But his odds are small.
Husband: He can't make it, can he?
Wife: Nope. He doesn't have the power because he is blinded by the vastness of the world outside. It preoccupies him. It fills him with a false sense of hope.
Husband: It consumes him.
Wife: Exactly. He can't master his craft because he can't make it his world like the prisoner can.
Husband: So who has it better?
Wife: I can't answer that, but I can tell you that I envy the prisoner.
Husband: Why?
Wife: Because I'm more like the football kid.
Husband: Really? So what does that tell us?
Wife: I guess it tells us that we need to imprison our passions and arts. We need to lock ourselves up with them and make them our worlds. We need to go to prison in order to set ourselves free.
Husband: Hmm...When's dinner?
No comments:
Post a Comment