Interviewed by a priest for the Catholic Commonweal magazine, Woody Allen clearly articulates his world view. Most people will find it depressing, not because it isn't true, but because it isn't hopeful. Until five or so years ago, I was in that class. All my life I had sought a meaning, a principle, an unfailing source of goodness that controlled me and the universe. Even when I stopped believing in "heaven" as a place I still thought of it as a state of mind produced by a connection with an orderly, loving and benevolent "higher power." I now know that none of that is true. Woody and I are about the same age and his views are similar. It took a long, long time but I now view the universe as a cruel, brutal, purposeless state of being. All the forms of religion and positive thinking are attempts to mask the vacuousness we innately sense as soon as our infantile megalomania bursts. These masks don't have to be lifelong commitments or affiliations with organizations. They can be momentary, repeated and simple. Woody calls them "oases":
Well, you know, you want some kind of relief from the agony and terror of human existence. Human existence is a brutal experience to me…it’s a brutal, meaningless experience—an agonizing, meaningless experience with some oases, delight, some charm and peace, but these are just small oases...You can sit down and hear a Mozart symphony, or you can watch the Marx Brothers, and this will give you a pleasant escape for a while. And that is about the best that you can do…. I feel that one can come up with all these rationalizations and seemingly astute observations, but I think I said it well at the end of Deconstructing Harry: we all know the same truth; our lives consist of how we choose to distort it, and that’s it.
They are forms of consciousness-altering drugs with one purpose: to relieve us of the awareness that our lives are ultimately meaningless. And they work, more or less. But as with such drugs there are dangerous side effects. Religious zealots try to bring everyone under the spell of their dream and are at the least a PITA, and at worst terrorists who kill innocents for their god. "Bright-siders" try to add to the chorus of cheeriness that masks their own inner screams and make you feel guilty for your realism. Booze, pot and other pharmaceuticals have their obvious hazards.
Artists practice a peculiar form of masking. Not only do they provide audiences with momentary escape from existential anguish, but they achieve a kind of eternality by leaving behind their works. At my age, this appears to be all that is left for me to do. So I compose and record little musical works that may live on with someone somewhere someday. It's a far cry from the "eternal life" I sought and thought I had understood for so many years. But it is a kind of oasis for me. and this article comforts me with the assurance that someone of Allen's stature sees it the same.
