i do not think that means what you think it means, and musings on the existence of magic
after listening to the 'this american life' episode "a little bit of knowledge"...
to misle: to deceive, to mislead (past tense: misled)
quesadilla: spanish for "what's the deal?"
"is the unicorn endangered or extinct?"
long silence.
laughter.
more silence.
"you mean unicorns aren't real?"
also: you know how everyone cries when they don't get their hogwarts letter? well, i cried anyway. and by "cried" i mean "i was very upset and moped for weeks after i started sixth grade." i was not a crying child. in the literal sense.
ahem, ANYWAY, my theory was this: the absence of hogwarts letters did not mean that hogwarts and harry potter and albus dumbledore don't exist, it just means that we're muggles. this may seem more depressing than the idea that we're all really wizards in a parallel dimension, and someday we may accidentally fall through a portal into that world and be able to exercise our true powers, but it's not. parallel dimensions are a sticky business; i don't trust them. there's no guarantee that you'll fall into the harry-potter-exists dimension that has a happy ending, after all. i mean, say lily was out shopping the night that voldemort came, and harry just died? i call that a bummer.
why my preferred theory is less depressing: for one thing, voldemort doesn't win. for another, there is always the potential to someday meet a real live wizard. in fact, you probably have already; you just didn't know it.
i, like everyone else, am terribly disappointed not to be a witch. aunt petunia, i so get you. i'd write a letter to dumbledore too, if i knew his address. however, my plan, under the circumstances, is to marry a wizard and have magical babies. that way, i can live vicariously through the lives of my children.
failing that theory, my next one is that when you die, you go to hogwarts. and when you die there, you're being reborn into our world! it all works out very neatly.
i am not delusional.
to misle: to deceive, to mislead (past tense: misled)
quesadilla: spanish for "what's the deal?"
"is the unicorn endangered or extinct?"
long silence.
laughter.
more silence.
"you mean unicorns aren't real?"
also: you know how everyone cries when they don't get their hogwarts letter? well, i cried anyway. and by "cried" i mean "i was very upset and moped for weeks after i started sixth grade." i was not a crying child. in the literal sense.
ahem, ANYWAY, my theory was this: the absence of hogwarts letters did not mean that hogwarts and harry potter and albus dumbledore don't exist, it just means that we're muggles. this may seem more depressing than the idea that we're all really wizards in a parallel dimension, and someday we may accidentally fall through a portal into that world and be able to exercise our true powers, but it's not. parallel dimensions are a sticky business; i don't trust them. there's no guarantee that you'll fall into the harry-potter-exists dimension that has a happy ending, after all. i mean, say lily was out shopping the night that voldemort came, and harry just died? i call that a bummer.
why my preferred theory is less depressing: for one thing, voldemort doesn't win. for another, there is always the potential to someday meet a real live wizard. in fact, you probably have already; you just didn't know it.
i, like everyone else, am terribly disappointed not to be a witch. aunt petunia, i so get you. i'd write a letter to dumbledore too, if i knew his address. however, my plan, under the circumstances, is to marry a wizard and have magical babies. that way, i can live vicariously through the lives of my children.
failing that theory, my next one is that when you die, you go to hogwarts. and when you die there, you're being reborn into our world! it all works out very neatly.
i am not delusional.