Creativity and Insanity

There's this theme that seems to recur frequently in modern culture-- the thin line between creative genius and insanity. Personally, I think it's a trite cliche and poorly understood. I'd like to offer an alternative saying:

The difference between creative genius and insanity is a willful ignorance about how our environment and the things in it work.

For example, I have a remote engine starter in my car. It's a nice convenience in the extreme seasons-- the car can defrost and warm the passenger space in the winter time, or make the interior cooler and more comfortable in the summer, all without me having to get into the car. One of my friends [not you, B ;)] saw me using this feature one time, and she asks me "What would you do if your car started to drive off by itself?"

I started to reply by explaining to her that it wasn't possible for that to happen . . . and because I wasn't willing to totally buy in to her premise, she interrupted me and chastised me for " . . . not having any imagination."

(As an aside, she probably lacks the intelligence and social awareness to hypothesize why we don't talk much or do much together any more, but I digress . . . .)

If she'd allowed me to finish answering her question instead of interrupting me, I'd have explained that it's difficult to create an interesting and plausible story/explanation when the premise itself outright violates several electrical, mechanical and physical principles. Oh, sure -- the car just "magically and inexplicably" becomes sentient and somehow bypasses several deliberately engineered safety features that prevent it from being stolen and/or careening out of control, etc. Hell, that isn't even original, Stephen King already did that one TWICE-- "Christine" and "Maximum Overdrive." (rolls eyes)

How about this? Instead of conveniently discarding all the real world facts that might get in the way of telling the story you think is so cool, why don't you sit down and learn about the mechanics involved and build a story that actually can operate within those constraints?

For example, I point my remote starter fob at the car, getting ready to impress my friend(s), hit the start button twice . . . and the car suddenly and without warning explodes in a tremedous fireball. What the hell happened!? My car just exploded! Maybe I tried to save money by installing the unit myself and wound up accidentally causing an electrical fire? Or, maybe someone in my life secretly hates me so much that they hired someone to plant a bomb in my car and kill me . . . and if I hadn't started my car remotely, I'd have been dead!

See, all of these possibilities are plausible and they have wonderful directions to build on. Maybe I become convinced one of my friends is trying to kill me and I wind up alienating everyone, only to discover that the whole incident was nothing more than a case of mistaken identity-- because I drive the same make and model of car that the intended victim drives? How's that for a plot twist?

Jurassic Park was a hit because it was just plausible and believable enough for people to suspend their disbelief. I will spare you my opinion of Maximum Overdrive.