seems it's just the modern curse

So apparently Rachel is in the throes of a minor existential/spiritual crisis. Whoopee. (See this last entry for why.
I'm enjoying getting other peoples' points of view on this, though. Nice to know that I'm not the only one who thinks about these things more than is probably healthy for a normally well-grounded person. (For example: anivad just wrote this nifty long entry about infinity, parallel universes, and poor fictional Mary.) :sigh: Every once in a while, something comes from a random direction that makes me feel a lot better, or at least gives my mind something a little more concrete to focus on.
See, I was thinking this morning about the contradiction of being an atheist and a solipsist at the same time, or at least a certain kind of "everything is an illusion" solipsist. Illusion suggests two parties, a creator of the illusion and a party who is being deluded by it. Assuming that reality is an illusion, this would suggest that whoever is creating the illusion is God. I really, really dislike this idea. I simply cannot accept it. The idea that God is part of the illusion appeals to me on a very visceral level. Haha, you nonexistent omnipotent bastard, you're just as pretend as the rest of us are!
The idea of layers upon layers of fictional realities solves this problem quite easily and takes care of a lot of other contradictions I've been juggling around. Plus, it appeals to my writer's ego. I'm makin' up a universe! Well, that's one way you could look at it. The other way you could see it is that you're writing about something that just happens to exist anyway. I like the first one better. Illusion again, and isn't all fiction an illusion anyway? I just have a good reason why it's an illusion, which was what I was looking for in the first place. I know it's more of a metaphor than anything, but it satisfies me for now.
It just occured to me that I worked out this whole thing 5 years ago, the first time I ever read Heinlein's "Number of the Beast." Why did I forget that? I am a philosophical goldfish. Be prepared for another post with the exact same questions and answers in a few months, as I freak out and settle down once again.

Anyway, back to objective reality. I need to go to the post office, because I've been putting that off since Monday, when I realized that the post office was closed because it was a holiday. Duh, Rachel.
Despite my lack of presence at the actual post office, I got two packages in the mail today. The first one was from Mom, who sent me some sweatshirts, some vitamins, and...da da da...an Edward Gorey day-to-day calendar. My mom rocks.
The second package was from nyghtshayde, and contained utterly lovely things. :D An absolutely lovely handmade journal and shiny gold and silver pens, and a CD of the Doors and some spoken poetry, and a gorgeous necklace and bracelet that I love, and a pretty ring, and a little heart stone-thing, and and and...wow. Heh. :is squeeing and blushing and very very happy and cannot express how absolutely wonderful and love:
And also a Spider Jerusalem postcard. Spider sez: "There's one hole in every revolution, large or small. And it's one word long: People. No matter how big the idea they stand under, people are small and weak and cheap and frightened. It's people that kill every revolution."
Oh Spider, you cynical bastard. The weird thing is that reading Transmetropolitan is the thing that gives me the most hope for the future. It's so plausible, more so than any faux-utopia or nuclear apocalypse. Sure, it's sad and cynical and gritty. Sure, it's fantastic and tech-magic. But it's just an extension of the way things are now, and the way things are now are the same way things have always been; the world is wonderful and horrible at the same time, in the same ways, and it always goes back to the same balance, and it always will as long as there are people to balance it out.