2013.10.04 - The Trope of Greenwich Village

That was good. That was just what the young magician needed. A curtain call, an encore, a few more tricks, and they went away completely satisfied and adoring of Zachary Zatara. He used to call himself "the world's greatest and most popular teenaged magician", but now he's no longer a teenager, though he still commands a significant popularity. He's done it all: videos for the internet, photo books, even celebrity voiceovers...but the most fulfilling thing he ever does is to appear onstage. Nothing can beat that. The young magician takes a deep breath with a smile on his face, sighing out contentedly. Maybe the other day was really unhappy. Very unsatisfying. But today...today, it's all worth it.
He's not in his usual tux, though; at the moment he's just in a red t-shirt with black pants and shoes, very dressed-down for him, very casual. He still gets a few callouts in the Village, though. He lives here, and some know, others don't, but it doesn't really stop a few from appreciating him very verbally. At least they're not whistling tonight.
Which is when a figure in a leather jacket leaning against a wall pushes off, from nearby. "Zachary Zatara. I was at your show." He adds, "If you've got a second, I'd like to have a conversation?" Tall, Redheaded, well-built and somewhat dour, Lonnie Machin looks like the sort of person who has a laser-focused purpose in mind for everything he does, up to and including brushing his teeth. "I'm something of a philosopher, and it's a well-established fact that the House of Zatara's stage shows run a little deeper than the usual prestidigitation."
Zach turns, and his eyes flick over the young man addressing him. Well, that's kind of different. "I hope you enjoyed it!" There's something about this fellow, something that Zatara can't quite put a finger on, but he's willing, he's flying high at the moment on the delight that only a stage show can really give him. It's in his blood. It's part of his spirit. "All right. Pick a spot. We'll have a drink, my treat." He starts to turn, then pauses and looks back at Lonnie. "You're really after philosophical conversation? I mean...I'm not trying to imply anything, it's just that when I'm walking through the Village on my way home, usually the only propositions I get have the ultimate shared goal of scoring."
Lonnie raises an eyebrow. "I just met you. That would be both rude *and* disgusting." He puts his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "I'm Lonnie. And you *are* very good. But." He continues walking, and he says, "I wanted to talk to you about magic. It's unpredictable and dangerous, especially when it falls into the hands of those with a little talent but no training--which happens fairly often. Wouldn't the world be better off without it?"
"*Hey*." Zach narrows his eyes. "I'm *hardly* disgusting." But he starts to walk with Lonnie down the street, letting the other young man lead him wherever he should want to go to share a drink. There are places with open-air tables and terraces, and most of them are busy enough, though not quite so busy as they'd be on a warmer night, earlier in the year. It's leaning towards autumn, now. "Do you think the world would be better without innocent, heartfelt laughter, or the sparkle on a dewy morning, or what you feel when a song moves you deeply and brings tears to your eyes? Magic is as much that as it is hurling fireballs at someone. And *that*, my friend, is exactly what people with a little talent and no training don't understand." He takes in a breath and sighs it out as he inclines his head. "It's the same with anything, really. 'Just enough knowledge to be dangerous', I believe is the expression. You might as well ask if the world wouldn't be better without science, or art, or anything like that."
"No, but propositioning you within five minutes of meeting you would be." He adds, "We would be better off without creatures like Dormammu, Shuma-Gorath, and Darkseid, who all use the occult to insinuate themselves into this universe." He raises his eyebrows, and says, "Or monsters like Solomon Grundy. I can't argue that evil men have used Science to birth abominations," He admits.
"They're also not really opposites as some think. There, that's a good place. How about that?" Zach points to a cafe of sorts, with only a few people eating al fresco, the majority of them milling about indoors. "Do you drink? Do you mind if I do?" Apparently he'll wait on addressing the questions and points until they actually get settled somewhere. But his interest has been piqued.
"Well, no. Science is magic explained. Explain magic and apply the scientific method to it," Lonnie says, "And it becomes science. I can do a *little* bit of it myself," He admits, "But I tend to devote my energy to other things." He nods, and moves to pull out a chair for Zach, before he has a seat himself. When the waiter takes their order, he orders a cappucino. "Not at all, but I'm not old enough."
"Oh *fuck* the police, order what you want." Zach's seat is pulled out. It's pulled out for him! He looks a little surprised, but he ends up settling himself down into it after a moment. "Thank you. True gentleman! I like you already." Crossing one leg over the other, he folds his hands in his lap. "Gin and cranberry, please. Lots of gin. Lots of cranberry." After they're alone again, the magician's attention turns back to his conversational partner. "So. Maybe Dormammu, Shuma-Gorath, Darkseid, Solomon Grundy, all of those...yeah, they're abominable. But I don't know. Dormammu's nature is what it is. He uses magic. He does his thing. Shuma-Gorath, he's not really something humans tend to understand. Darkseid...he's a nihilist. An absolute nihilist, I think. I'd love to do away with him...but I don't know if it would be right. Solomon Grundy though...that thing needs to just...wouldn't it be more merciful just to let it die? I think it would."
Lonnie raises his eyebrows, and says, "Really, all I'd like is some coffee." He laces his hands together. "But that's the problem. These are the product of those... chaotic forces. Science, despite the ills it has caused, is not..." He gestures with one hand, "*Linked* to these... things. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Zach gives a faint nod. "Oh, I understand. You think science is order and magic seems chaotic, right? Because science has laws and theories and hypotheses. Well let me tell you -- that couldn't be farther from the truth. Order can cause chaos. And magic is a huge great combination of order, chaos, and most of the time it's in the interest of balance as a goal. Science gives atomic destruction. Science destroys the rose."
Lonnie considers this as they receive their drinks. "But Science is also available to everyone. There are those who, try as they might, no matter how much they know, would never produce so much as the faintest rippling echo of magic. This is the very idea of the Mystery cult, isn't it? To separate those who receive the benefit of esoteric knowledge from those who do not?"
"You're getting beside the point," Zach answers, holding up a finger. "Some of us are born with a proclivity for magic, yes. But magic *is* available to everyone. That doesn't mean, as I said, flinging fireballs is available to everyone without a cost. I can conjure up a five-star feast without breaking a sweat, but you probably wouldn't be able to do that. That's life. That's this world. Similarly, though, not everyone can understand the theory of relativity or even the concept of evolution, of entropy. Not everyone can command science. And the rules change constantly, if you're speaking on a relative level." It's then that the drinks arrive, and with a smile Zatara raises his gin and cranberry, in a tall tumbler and clearly mixed just as he asked. "What shall we drink to? My default is usually absent friends, but I'm open to suggestion."
"Hm. How about, to Philosophy." Anarky says, "And there being a reason people who study it in college don't get jobs." He raises his coffee up, then to his lips. "You have to understand, I'm both a rationalist and and an anarchist. I also believe in personal freedom, however... but sometimes I like to test people's beliefs. John Zatara was well-respected by both his fellow magicians *and* his fellow wizards, and your family bridges a divide between two groups of people who do not get along. As a rule."
"To philosophy!" Zach eagerly toasts, raising his glass a little more and then tipping it to his lips. He smacks them after swallowing. "Mm. That's nice. Good gin. Good cranberry." It remains in his hand as he settles to the back of his chair. "So to continue, we've known each other more than five minutes now, so feel free to derail the discussion." It's part of the magician's wry wit, and hopefully Lonnie will get that. "Mm. I like that. Honestly I do. I think the reason is pretty simple. People don't like being called out on their bullshit on a cosmic level. They're mostly happy to remain as ignorant as possible as they can and still manage to pretend like they have some stake in what happens to them outside of this plane."
"It is an objective reality that there are extradimensional entities beyond this plane and some form of consciousness that persists after physical death," Lonnie says, with a sigh. "But I choose to live my life as if none of those things matter." He sips his coffee again, and says, "There are gods out there, but I fail to see how they have any greater inherent worth than any human being."
Zach waves his free hand. "Perhaps you should meet them and talk with them then." Another sip, and he lets his head fall back for a moment, chuckling as he sets the glass down. "I mean, let's be honest, right? Humans have fucked up massively as a whole. There are a handful, relatively, of ones that actually get it, that actually work for anything but the satisfaction of the moment and the pleasure of the here and now. I love to party. I love pleasure. But even *I* understand it's not just me, it's not just us, and there's something that needs to be left for the people who come after. So I figure, you're pretty far ahead of the game. You're living life to the fullest, aren't you? What's wrong with that?"
"If we don't fight to show people a better way," Lonnie says, "They'll never have one. The world is full of bad examples. Power corrupts, yes. But I cannot believe most people are bad. They are, perhaps, unaware--but not bad." He quirks his mouth, and says, "It's the ones who, when they realize that there is a palpable choice between good and evil, choose evil, that are the thorn under my fingernail. That, I haven't figured out yet."
"Good and evil aren't always absolute, though. The world isn't black and white, by any means. And ignorance isn't the same as innocence." Zach once again raises the glass to his lips and takes a drink, letting it open up on his tongue and then swallowing it down after it's given him the fullest of its bloom. "Willful ignorance is tantamount to evil, in the eyes of some. What do you think about it?"
"There's less overlap than you might think. People like to cover up their bad behavior with platitudes and excuses." He shrugs, slightly, "That may be so, but trying to force a person to embrace your ethics is in and of itself unethical. You may educate, you can guide... but you can't force."
"Is there?" A clink as the glass makes contact with the table, Zach settling it onto the surface to rest it, but keeping his fingers wrapped around the sweating glass. "You're right about that. You can't force. Even if you want to, you can't. If someone agrees with you just because you browbeat them into it, that makes them pathetic and you necessarily unethical."
"Of course they do. The world is *rife* with bad people who do awful things, and then attempt to justify them with a shades-of-gray morality." Lonnie gestures, "But all too often, it's not the world that's rotten, just the person." He sighs, and sits back, before he drains his coffee and stares into the empty cup.
"What is the world but people? I mean...when you get right down to it...as far as we're concerned, the world is people, really." Zach drains his drink to under half-full, swishing the ice around in the glass. "So when the people are rotten, it might as well be the world that's rotten. People can't get out of the structure, the machine, that's been crafted to trap them in it. If they do, they're barely able to survive most of the time. It's a deadly machine."
"And that's the problem, isn't it? How to beat the machine, when the machine is largely other people. Still," Lonnie shakes his head, "I'm not inclined to give up. That seems like even more of a waste."
Zach's lips, ever rosy and tender, stretch into a bit of a smile there. Still glistening from the moisture of his drink, they sparkle as they catch the light of the illumination around them on the terrace. "It's the most tragic of wastes. Don't ever give up. If you're looking for the antithesis of magic, at least, that's what it is: despair. Giving up. Just refusing to do anything but let yourself be steamrolled by a band of assholes who never had a more magical thought than 'I want money'."
"I suppose we see eye to eye on that," Lonnie says, his own lips pressed into a thin line. He takes a phone out of his pocket and looks at it, before he sighs. "I have to catch the bullet train to Gotham City in an hour," He murmurs, "I'd really better be going."
"If you must," Zach replies, bouncing his foot a bit. "I *could* just teleport you back, but whatever. Hey, give me that. I need it for a minute." Reaching out, he indicates the phone in Lonnie's hand.
Lonnie Machin considers this, and then hands his phone over. It appears to be an Android, but with a different OS.
The background image is a Circle-A.
Zach recognizes the image, most prominently the meaning of the icon. He flashes a grin to Lonnie, and with a few taps on the screen hands the phone back. He's added himself to the contacts list. "Don't let that get out, will you? I've got enough problems when shirtless selfies leak."
"Fair enough." Lonnie says, before he pockets it, and gets up. He offers his hand, and says, "Pleasure to meet you, Zachary. Let me know when you're doing a show in Gotham City. Your cousin headlines there often enough." That done, he puts down some money for the drink and the coffee, plus gratuity, and turns to head off down the street.
"Hey -- I said it was my treat!" Zach calls after Lonnie, after giving him a good, firm handshake. "You're forcing me to resolve to do something to one-up you next time! A pizza party! Extra cheese! And wine!" He just chuckles though, after Lonnie's gone from sight, and sinks back down into his seat to finish his drink. "Ahh, that was a good one. It's been a good day."
Category:Log