The cat thinks he's human, or maybe he just thinks we're all cats.
My boyfriend sits on the chair in our bedroom and asks me if I believe in Atlantis, the lost continent buried deep under the sea.
"Why not?" I ask back, thinking about the other things I've come to believe over the course of the past few years. Things like alien life visiting Earthbound friends, the possibility of the end of the world in my lifetime, and the fact that I deserve true love.
"I just don't buy it," he says.
"Do you believe in the Garden of Eden?" I ask.
"I believe that the Fertile Crescent was the Garden of Eden. But it wasn't a garden, at all. The Garden of Eden is a symbol of living harmoniously with nature as they did in tribalism. But I don't believe there was an actual garden. And I don't believe there was an actual Adam and Eve. I mean it's just myth."
"Can't you believe in a myth?," I wonder. "Don't you ever get the urge to know if the myths you believe are true?"
Which leads us into a discussion about debunking myth, and we both agree that it's best to leave well enough alone. Like in the case of Al Capone's vault, had the myth of what was inside been kept a secret, Geraldo Rivera might have had an easier time having people believe he was a legitimate journalist. But once the safe was blown open, Geraldo found nothing, not even a pair of Capone's soiled panties (although I'm not sure why Capone would have ever kept of pair of those in there anyway, except for perhaps sh-ts and giggles). Regardless, Rivera became a household word for, well, nothing.
My point is that sometimes myths are better left as myths. They have more power this way. So, maybe there is a lost continet buried deep under the Pacific Ocean, and maybe there was an Adam who happened to screw with an Eve, and they happened to enjoy trips to some garden a really long time ago. Truth is, I don't want to know.
I just want to believe.
Posted by jamye at March 9, 2021 11:23 PM