Yesterday's thoughts were scrambled, not well put together. A lot like most of my real thoughts, probably. It did get me thinking more about sources of information as being relevant to the information itself.
There's a theory in Pragmatism that essentially states that a fact cannot be denounced based on the source it comes from. An insane person could say that the Statue of Liberty is in New York, and it wouldn't magically become untrue because the person saying it also claimed that his feet were made of butter.
I feel like some of this was applied to other philosophers, specifically Nietzsche. Whenever I bring up Nietzsche as a strong influence in my own philosophical life, I get the usual reaction that either points out that he renounced everything he said (untrue), that he went insane at the end of his life (true) or that he died of syphilis (also true). Granted, I was going to a Christian University where students seemed to have a noted distaste for the philosopher who claimed that God was dead.
Their reactions were meant, I think, to discredit Nietzsche either to me or to themselves. It gave them a reason not to buy into his logic. After all, why listen to a man who went crazy and died of venereal disease?
Because an idea must be separated from its source. If this were not the case, no great ideas would flourish for very long. Most great thinkers have lives that a clouded by darkness or are colored by those who wrote history as crack-pots. Socrates was a blasphemer. John, who wrote Revelations, was an exile on Patmos when he wrote it. Jesus was considered a false prophet and put to death for his teachings.
The concept of an idea outliving a person is explored in Alan Moore's novel V for Vendetta. V, also a crazy person, speaks in an ego-less manner, preferring to evoke a sense of the ideas he champions (freedom, passion, art) instead of revealing characteristics about himself. The reasoning is that "ideas are bulletproof". You can kill a man. But you cannot kill an idea.
And yet it pains me when I bring up a controversial thinker like Nietzsche only to hear the same regurgitated blather about his personal life. It's a method of protecting one's self from having to think about something that might not agree with you. It's easier to condemn a man, than an idea. We do it all the time - see it all the time. Politicians bring up personal attacks instead of talking about the issues. We fail to listen to criticism based on who says it. We tend to worry more about a person being judgmental than what their judgment is.
It's impossible to take every idea at depth and examine it, so it's natural to have a vetting process. Sometimes I wonder, though, whether this vetting process helps us or hurts us. It certainly makes us feel good. Keeps us away from stray ideas. Makes us listen to positive feedback or negative criticism told lovingly.
Maybe, sometimes, what we need is a challenge. Harsh words. Something we can't turn away from so easily. Maybe what we need is something that wakes us up instead of patting us gently on the back.
21 December 2007
Stamp of Approval
More than once in my life I've been called judgmental.
This stems, I believe, from me judging people.
For the most part, I consider myself a very good judge of people. Not necessarily of character, but of the types of people that I encounter. Using basic psychology and a little observation, it's pretty easy to boil most people down to core elements. And I say most people, because not everyone is so easy to read. It's that other group that gives me trouble though.
I once bragged to a very beautiful woman that I knew exactly what she was like within the first half hour that I met her. This is true for most people I meet. It doesn't take long to figure out people's personalities and motivations. People wear them on their sleeves. People project them in the smallest speech patterns and body languages. I was not entirely honest with this woman, though. I had a lot of her figured out pretty quick. But she was one of those people in life that surprised me. She had more to her than what she was projecting.
I find I'm drawn to people like that. People with a little more hidden behind their smile than most. Dynamic people.
This got me thinking about judgment. For the most part, it has a bad connotation. It's a condemnation to be judgmental. It's a bad thing. We usually think of someone being judgmental who doesn't have all the facts. People with a prejudice. Or we think of them as being high-and-mighty, excused from being judged themselves.
But everyone judges everyone else on a daily basis. It's part of our survival kit. See the guy in the trench coat with the beady eyes following you into the subway car? He could be up to no good. We judge him on based on his appearance. Some people love stories where a character like this threatens with his presence and then ends up helping someone in the end. The moral of the story is to be careful before judging someone.
But judging people is good. That guy with the trenchcoat probably is up to no good. And for the survival of the species, we learn to recognize these visual clues so we don't have to get to know a person before they mug us. We recognize danger so we can avoid it.
And another thing, what about someone who has all the facts and makes a judgment? I think of some judgmental people as blow-hards that proclaim certain truths about others as a means to avoid detection of their own faults, sure. But what about the people who have the back-up for their judgment call? Is it still wrong for them to voice an opinion?
I think it boils down to two things. One, we don't like being defined. We are frightened that it takes away our freedom or means we're boring or easy to figure out. Two, we don't like to be defined negatively. A judgment call usually infers that someone has placed values up against your behavior and you've lost out. They don't approve of something you're doing.
We tend to react harshly and quickly to those kinds of judgments. My question is simple. What if that person being judgmental, is right?
This stems, I believe, from me judging people.
For the most part, I consider myself a very good judge of people. Not necessarily of character, but of the types of people that I encounter. Using basic psychology and a little observation, it's pretty easy to boil most people down to core elements. And I say most people, because not everyone is so easy to read. It's that other group that gives me trouble though.
I once bragged to a very beautiful woman that I knew exactly what she was like within the first half hour that I met her. This is true for most people I meet. It doesn't take long to figure out people's personalities and motivations. People wear them on their sleeves. People project them in the smallest speech patterns and body languages. I was not entirely honest with this woman, though. I had a lot of her figured out pretty quick. But she was one of those people in life that surprised me. She had more to her than what she was projecting.
I find I'm drawn to people like that. People with a little more hidden behind their smile than most. Dynamic people.
This got me thinking about judgment. For the most part, it has a bad connotation. It's a condemnation to be judgmental. It's a bad thing. We usually think of someone being judgmental who doesn't have all the facts. People with a prejudice. Or we think of them as being high-and-mighty, excused from being judged themselves.
But everyone judges everyone else on a daily basis. It's part of our survival kit. See the guy in the trench coat with the beady eyes following you into the subway car? He could be up to no good. We judge him on based on his appearance. Some people love stories where a character like this threatens with his presence and then ends up helping someone in the end. The moral of the story is to be careful before judging someone.
But judging people is good. That guy with the trenchcoat probably is up to no good. And for the survival of the species, we learn to recognize these visual clues so we don't have to get to know a person before they mug us. We recognize danger so we can avoid it.
And another thing, what about someone who has all the facts and makes a judgment? I think of some judgmental people as blow-hards that proclaim certain truths about others as a means to avoid detection of their own faults, sure. But what about the people who have the back-up for their judgment call? Is it still wrong for them to voice an opinion?
I think it boils down to two things. One, we don't like being defined. We are frightened that it takes away our freedom or means we're boring or easy to figure out. Two, we don't like to be defined negatively. A judgment call usually infers that someone has placed values up against your behavior and you've lost out. They don't approve of something you're doing.
We tend to react harshly and quickly to those kinds of judgments. My question is simple. What if that person being judgmental, is right?
The Engrossing Problem
I'm starting to realize that my natural tendencies are at odds with what I stand for.
The story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is one that pretty much everyone knows. A guy meddling too far into the realm of science ends up creating a monster of himself, unleashing a part of him that is meant to stay hidden for the safety of all concerned. No one pays much attention to the meaning or the warning of the story.
In fact, no one seems to pay much attention to the meaning behind most monster movies. My favorite example would be zombie films. George Romero created the genre in earnest when he made Night of the Living Dead. In it, a group of unaffected people try to fight off the zombie horde that constantly closes in on them. The protagonist, a black man, escapes with his life only to be gunned down by racist rednecks at the end. Most audiences see it as a frightening story filled with great intensity and surprises that make girls leap out of their seats and into their boyfriends' arms.
I see the political message behind it. After all, what are zombies? There's no threat to them - they aren't fast, agile, intelligent. In fact, they are the opposite of what most great monsters are. But the thing that makes them scary is their numbers. They just keep coming. They are frightening because there are just so damned many of them.
Beware of stupid people in large groups.
They represent the herd mentality that is present in us all. The cues we take to follow the crowd and see where it takes us. At the end of the movie, the main character is killed not because of a supernatural threat, but because of a very real one (one incredibly real for when the film was made in the 1960s). The movie was a statement to stop following blindly and to start thinking humanely about people. Of course now, the idea can be applied to anything. We even use the word zombie from time to time to describe cultural phenomena.
For Jekyll and Hyde, the joke is that they are the same person. Scary movies tend to play off of our fears well because they focus on the most well rooted parts of our personalities. We all fear in some way that there's a part of us that's dangerous. A part that should be left in the dark. A part that should never manifest itself outside our minds.
And in some ways, we let it out. Shooting the middle finger at the guy that cut us off. Being short with a coworker because we've had a stressful day. Wanting to punch the ass that spilled beer on us at the party.
The message of the tale is that keeping your primal urges caged is the only safe thing. In the end, Jekyll is destroyed completely and several people are killed. It is a struggle, though, a daily struggle to keep those urges under wraps. I envy people who so effortlessly adhere to a moral structure. They are few and far between, but there are a few people in life who just seem to be free to live how they please because their upbringing instilled so deeply in them a sense of unshakable morals. It is one thing to act morally and another to think morally.
My thoughts tend to be all over the place, which is why they are often at odds with what I stand for. The pain there in doing what it right despite it going against my natural tendency is a palpable one. I can feel it physically sometimes. That's when I try to remember the cautionary tales of what happens when you let those natural tendencies out.
And they don't always work.
The story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is one that pretty much everyone knows. A guy meddling too far into the realm of science ends up creating a monster of himself, unleashing a part of him that is meant to stay hidden for the safety of all concerned. No one pays much attention to the meaning or the warning of the story.
In fact, no one seems to pay much attention to the meaning behind most monster movies. My favorite example would be zombie films. George Romero created the genre in earnest when he made Night of the Living Dead. In it, a group of unaffected people try to fight off the zombie horde that constantly closes in on them. The protagonist, a black man, escapes with his life only to be gunned down by racist rednecks at the end. Most audiences see it as a frightening story filled with great intensity and surprises that make girls leap out of their seats and into their boyfriends' arms.
I see the political message behind it. After all, what are zombies? There's no threat to them - they aren't fast, agile, intelligent. In fact, they are the opposite of what most great monsters are. But the thing that makes them scary is their numbers. They just keep coming. They are frightening because there are just so damned many of them.
Beware of stupid people in large groups.
They represent the herd mentality that is present in us all. The cues we take to follow the crowd and see where it takes us. At the end of the movie, the main character is killed not because of a supernatural threat, but because of a very real one (one incredibly real for when the film was made in the 1960s). The movie was a statement to stop following blindly and to start thinking humanely about people. Of course now, the idea can be applied to anything. We even use the word zombie from time to time to describe cultural phenomena.
For Jekyll and Hyde, the joke is that they are the same person. Scary movies tend to play off of our fears well because they focus on the most well rooted parts of our personalities. We all fear in some way that there's a part of us that's dangerous. A part that should be left in the dark. A part that should never manifest itself outside our minds.
And in some ways, we let it out. Shooting the middle finger at the guy that cut us off. Being short with a coworker because we've had a stressful day. Wanting to punch the ass that spilled beer on us at the party.
The message of the tale is that keeping your primal urges caged is the only safe thing. In the end, Jekyll is destroyed completely and several people are killed. It is a struggle, though, a daily struggle to keep those urges under wraps. I envy people who so effortlessly adhere to a moral structure. They are few and far between, but there are a few people in life who just seem to be free to live how they please because their upbringing instilled so deeply in them a sense of unshakable morals. It is one thing to act morally and another to think morally.
My thoughts tend to be all over the place, which is why they are often at odds with what I stand for. The pain there in doing what it right despite it going against my natural tendency is a palpable one. I can feel it physically sometimes. That's when I try to remember the cautionary tales of what happens when you let those natural tendencies out.
And they don't always work.
17 December 2007
The Even Keel
Why can't we apply the same seriousness of our dating relationships to our friendships?
I guess this isn't everyone - I know it isn't, as I've been talking with a friend of mine about it, and she disagrees. But I do see the pattern in some people, including myself. We tend to put a different kind of stock in our dating relationships than our friendships.
For some people, I've noticed they have the ability to drop a relationship based on friends' opinions. They so value their friendships that they wouldn't do anything to harm them - and they trust their friends' opinions enough to realize they have best interests in mind. I revel at this sort of commitment. In my time on earth, I've so craved female affirmation, that I've forsaken a lot of my friendships for time spent with a significant other. Somehow, I learned this lesson later in the game than I should have.
My last serious relationship stayed balanced because we both were incredibly busy. However, this caused an imbalance of its own - when we did have free time, all we wanted to do was see each other. Thus, we were either working or together. This destroyed a social life to a certain extent.
But I wonder why this need is so strong. Why lose time with half a dozen people that love you in exchange for devotion from one person? There are obvious differences between dating and friendship, but these differences seem to be disproportion ally magnetic. They seem small, but they can have such strong reactions.
This thought isn't very well defined or articulated. Probably because it's still in the incubation phase. I'm just looking for answers at this point. The only thing I can think of so far is that the love that comes from a relationship is a much stronger drug. Maybe one that takes much more upkeep than a friendship. We hold onto it tighter because we imagine that's what it takes.
I love you all. Wouldn't trade you for the world.
I guess this isn't everyone - I know it isn't, as I've been talking with a friend of mine about it, and she disagrees. But I do see the pattern in some people, including myself. We tend to put a different kind of stock in our dating relationships than our friendships.
For some people, I've noticed they have the ability to drop a relationship based on friends' opinions. They so value their friendships that they wouldn't do anything to harm them - and they trust their friends' opinions enough to realize they have best interests in mind. I revel at this sort of commitment. In my time on earth, I've so craved female affirmation, that I've forsaken a lot of my friendships for time spent with a significant other. Somehow, I learned this lesson later in the game than I should have.
My last serious relationship stayed balanced because we both were incredibly busy. However, this caused an imbalance of its own - when we did have free time, all we wanted to do was see each other. Thus, we were either working or together. This destroyed a social life to a certain extent.
But I wonder why this need is so strong. Why lose time with half a dozen people that love you in exchange for devotion from one person? There are obvious differences between dating and friendship, but these differences seem to be disproportion ally magnetic. They seem small, but they can have such strong reactions.
This thought isn't very well defined or articulated. Probably because it's still in the incubation phase. I'm just looking for answers at this point. The only thing I can think of so far is that the love that comes from a relationship is a much stronger drug. Maybe one that takes much more upkeep than a friendship. We hold onto it tighter because we imagine that's what it takes.
I love you all. Wouldn't trade you for the world.
Loving Hate
This might be challenging. It was to me.
The Westboro Baptist Church was founded in 1955 by Fred Phelps. Since then, it has been in and out of the national spotlight for several reasons. They are vehemently anti-gay, anti-Catholic, anti-Islam and there are serious reasons to consider them anti-black and anti-semitic. As such, they are known mostly for picketing the funerals of homosexuals who were murdered or died of AIDS. They picket lesbian and gay weddings. They protest at the funerals of American soldiers who died in Iraq.
All of their actions are founded on strong beliefs in a few Old Testament passages, couples with an unnerving dedication to the closeness of Rapture. They hate America (and several other countries) because they feel the countries enable homosexuality. To them, this sin is above all others and stands as the principle cause of God's alleged hatred of these countries. Including the US.
Westboro could certainly be considered a cult by the broad and narrow definitions. In broad terms, a cult is a dedicated group of people that follow an ethos that stands outside the mainstream. In narrow terms, a cult is a dangerous mechanism of brainwashing, usually dedicated to a strong, central leader that uses dishonest tactics in order to bring others into the fold. The danger also moves beyond spewing hate-speech.
Phelps himself has been arrested for battery several times. His son speaks out against him, claiming that Phelps beat his children and wife in accordance with Old Testament law. His other son, however, is a dedicated follower who set up the first website for Westboro. Currently, the church runs sites including:
GodHatesFags.com
GodHatesAmerica.com
among others.
The list of vile things about this group is far too long to write down. A quick trip over to their wikipedia entry should enlighten if you need more reason to despise them.
They are getting headlines again for releasing several videos of songs they've written. One is a parody of We Are the World cleverly retitled God Hates the World (and it can be v iewed here.) Most people I've talked to consider this the worst of the videos because of the last twenty seconds.
Reading the literature on this group and watching their videos is guaranteed to make blood boil.
I got into a discussion with a friend of mine regarding the group in relation to my fears of religion. This group represents how far the pendulum can swing when religion is involved. For the most part, I realize that religion is a great help to the world. It creates an enlightenment about life that spreads joy and love. But in the wrong hands, it becomes incredibly dangerous - just like anything that elicits that sort of power.
My friend commented that what these people had was not religion, and I agree its a perversion, but its still based in religious belief. Hate them as much as you'd like, but what they believe in is still religious - they believe in God and believe in a certain way of living based on their interpretation of the Bible.
All of this aside, it brought me to the real puzzling question, and I hope it's something that puzzles you as well.
Christ calls on us to love one another. He teaches to feel compassion.
So how does one show compassion to this group?
It's easy to hate them. It's the natural response to the sort of vitriol and holier-than-thou-ness they exude. But hate isn't the correct response according to the teachings of Christ.
After your blood boils over from reading about this group or checking out their videos on youtube, how do you look at them with kindness and love? How do you love this group? How do you spread God's love to them?
Leaving a religious component aside for a moment, I'll say that I have the same question based on my beliefs. As someone that believes in humanity and its endeavors, I find myself concerned with how this group fits into the grand scheme, and how I can show love for them as fellow humans.
It's, for the moment, definitely got me stumped.
The Westboro Baptist Church was founded in 1955 by Fred Phelps. Since then, it has been in and out of the national spotlight for several reasons. They are vehemently anti-gay, anti-Catholic, anti-Islam and there are serious reasons to consider them anti-black and anti-semitic. As such, they are known mostly for picketing the funerals of homosexuals who were murdered or died of AIDS. They picket lesbian and gay weddings. They protest at the funerals of American soldiers who died in Iraq.
All of their actions are founded on strong beliefs in a few Old Testament passages, couples with an unnerving dedication to the closeness of Rapture. They hate America (and several other countries) because they feel the countries enable homosexuality. To them, this sin is above all others and stands as the principle cause of God's alleged hatred of these countries. Including the US.
Westboro could certainly be considered a cult by the broad and narrow definitions. In broad terms, a cult is a dedicated group of people that follow an ethos that stands outside the mainstream. In narrow terms, a cult is a dangerous mechanism of brainwashing, usually dedicated to a strong, central leader that uses dishonest tactics in order to bring others into the fold. The danger also moves beyond spewing hate-speech.
Phelps himself has been arrested for battery several times. His son speaks out against him, claiming that Phelps beat his children and wife in accordance with Old Testament law. His other son, however, is a dedicated follower who set up the first website for Westboro. Currently, the church runs sites including:
GodHatesFags.com
GodHatesAmerica.com
among others.
The list of vile things about this group is far too long to write down. A quick trip over to their wikipedia entry should enlighten if you need more reason to despise them.
They are getting headlines again for releasing several videos of songs they've written. One is a parody of We Are the World cleverly retitled God Hates the World (and it can be v iewed here.) Most people I've talked to consider this the worst of the videos because of the last twenty seconds.
Reading the literature on this group and watching their videos is guaranteed to make blood boil.
I got into a discussion with a friend of mine regarding the group in relation to my fears of religion. This group represents how far the pendulum can swing when religion is involved. For the most part, I realize that religion is a great help to the world. It creates an enlightenment about life that spreads joy and love. But in the wrong hands, it becomes incredibly dangerous - just like anything that elicits that sort of power.
My friend commented that what these people had was not religion, and I agree its a perversion, but its still based in religious belief. Hate them as much as you'd like, but what they believe in is still religious - they believe in God and believe in a certain way of living based on their interpretation of the Bible.
All of this aside, it brought me to the real puzzling question, and I hope it's something that puzzles you as well.
Christ calls on us to love one another. He teaches to feel compassion.
So how does one show compassion to this group?
It's easy to hate them. It's the natural response to the sort of vitriol and holier-than-thou-ness they exude. But hate isn't the correct response according to the teachings of Christ.
After your blood boils over from reading about this group or checking out their videos on youtube, how do you look at them with kindness and love? How do you love this group? How do you spread God's love to them?
Leaving a religious component aside for a moment, I'll say that I have the same question based on my beliefs. As someone that believes in humanity and its endeavors, I find myself concerned with how this group fits into the grand scheme, and how I can show love for them as fellow humans.
It's, for the moment, definitely got me stumped.
12 December 2007
The Death of Fun
Here's to fourth times.
Yesterday was our first snow of the season here in DC. It was incredible. While I was down in the lobby watching everyone mill about as if it was business as usual, I had to resist the urge to run out into the street to play in the snow. And yet everyone seemed like it wasn't an important event, like snow was something that just comes around all the time, nothing special, nothing unique.
My attitude toward snow is based, probably, solely on the fact that yesterday was the fourth time I've ever seen it. It was only really the second time I've seen it in such huge amounts - covering everything in beautiful, lustrous white. So it's a rare thing for me. I've not yet grown so accustomed to it that I can look outside at its beauty and only feel disdain for it ruining my travel schedule or making it difficult to walk.
I realize that I get excited by a lot of things that make me seem childish. I took a quick inventory of what I've considered my goals for the past few years, and several things stuck out:
1) To become wealthy enough to build and maintain a Class C zoo fit for keeping two (2) river otters.
This is my top priority. At some point in my life I want to live comfortably enough to be able to sit in a rocking chair all day and watch the river otters play. As a creature with no real natural enemies and no lack of talent in the food-catching department, otters pretty much just play around all day. They are graceful in the water and hilarious to watch on land - never a dull moment.
2) I'd like a large room in my house that's floor is made out of bedding.
I've decided that the walls should be normal - only the floor of the room should be made out of mattresses. I think this would be really useful on a daily basis and for visitors who come to spend the night. What's that? You don't like sleeping on the couch? Well, just sleep on the floor.
3) I want my life to be filled with new experiences and daily surprises.
In this world, I think the only way to facilitate surprise or excitement is to keep a child-like wonder about everything. It shocks me when people don't get excited about the possibilities of technology or the beauty of nature. This stuff is so crazy, so complex, so incredible that it takes a truly hardened person to pass by it with disdain. I told a colleague of mine who always wears these chic, very attractive black dresses to work that I'd like to see her in a lime green sweatshirt in jeans. When she asked me why, I told her that it would be a different experience. She responded that people wouldn't be able to handle it. And I felt like that was sort of the point.
I can't figure out whether this childishness is going to hurt me in the long run or not. For now, I'm just sort of riding the wave of it all. Maybe my goals should be a bit more conventional - a 401k, a family, pension plan, security.
It seems like I'm fighting against the notion of security, though. I love having a job and an apartment. They make me feel safe and secure. But the trade off is a lack of excitement. You have to sacrifice some of the randomness in life to come into work at 9am every morning. And some days, I just want to burst out of the office doors and jump in a big pile of snow.
Yesterday was our first snow of the season here in DC. It was incredible. While I was down in the lobby watching everyone mill about as if it was business as usual, I had to resist the urge to run out into the street to play in the snow. And yet everyone seemed like it wasn't an important event, like snow was something that just comes around all the time, nothing special, nothing unique.
My attitude toward snow is based, probably, solely on the fact that yesterday was the fourth time I've ever seen it. It was only really the second time I've seen it in such huge amounts - covering everything in beautiful, lustrous white. So it's a rare thing for me. I've not yet grown so accustomed to it that I can look outside at its beauty and only feel disdain for it ruining my travel schedule or making it difficult to walk.
I realize that I get excited by a lot of things that make me seem childish. I took a quick inventory of what I've considered my goals for the past few years, and several things stuck out:
1) To become wealthy enough to build and maintain a Class C zoo fit for keeping two (2) river otters.
This is my top priority. At some point in my life I want to live comfortably enough to be able to sit in a rocking chair all day and watch the river otters play. As a creature with no real natural enemies and no lack of talent in the food-catching department, otters pretty much just play around all day. They are graceful in the water and hilarious to watch on land - never a dull moment.
2) I'd like a large room in my house that's floor is made out of bedding.
I've decided that the walls should be normal - only the floor of the room should be made out of mattresses. I think this would be really useful on a daily basis and for visitors who come to spend the night. What's that? You don't like sleeping on the couch? Well, just sleep on the floor.
3) I want my life to be filled with new experiences and daily surprises.
In this world, I think the only way to facilitate surprise or excitement is to keep a child-like wonder about everything. It shocks me when people don't get excited about the possibilities of technology or the beauty of nature. This stuff is so crazy, so complex, so incredible that it takes a truly hardened person to pass by it with disdain. I told a colleague of mine who always wears these chic, very attractive black dresses to work that I'd like to see her in a lime green sweatshirt in jeans. When she asked me why, I told her that it would be a different experience. She responded that people wouldn't be able to handle it. And I felt like that was sort of the point.
I can't figure out whether this childishness is going to hurt me in the long run or not. For now, I'm just sort of riding the wave of it all. Maybe my goals should be a bit more conventional - a 401k, a family, pension plan, security.
It seems like I'm fighting against the notion of security, though. I love having a job and an apartment. They make me feel safe and secure. But the trade off is a lack of excitement. You have to sacrifice some of the randomness in life to come into work at 9am every morning. And some days, I just want to burst out of the office doors and jump in a big pile of snow.
Descartes Before the Horse
Without mystery, I'm not sure what's left.
It takes a lot to remind me of this, though. I'm not sure why, but every so often in my life a huge mystery crops up. I'm frustrated by it. It worries me and destroys my sense of ego - as most of my ego is based on me grasping the world around me in a smug, know-it-all sort of way. But I realize soon enough the excitement of it all. A new puzzle to solve. A new challenge to figure out.
The frustrating part is not knowing whether I'll figure it out or whether my solution to the mystery will work. And of course there's the general uncertainty of having something prevalent in my life that's up in the air. We, as humans, like closure. We like bad guys to lose in movies and good guys to get the girl. We like loose ends being tied up because we get on edge when they don't. We hate open endings because they excite us and we seek comfort. Our primal quest for food, shelter, companionship is a question that demands an answer. We have to have those answers, because without them, we wonder if we'll survive. Perhaps knowing if the hero escapes the deadly trap, captures the villain and marries the girl is a matter of survival for us as well.
In the drama of our own lives, we are terrified by the unknown, by the x factor that crops up in our plans and ruins them. Makes us rethink them. Maybe takes a goal away from us permanently. This is even more frustrating - more so than having a question up in the air, is having it answered in a way that we didn't want. From this point, we usually choose denial or we go through the five stages of grief as if we'd lost something as important as life itself.
We deny, we get angry, we bargain, we get sad, and then, hopefully, we accept.
The question is, do we hate having something in our lives that is a frustrating mystery more than we hate having the answer to that mystery be the one we weren't hoping for? Would we rather be frustrated or disappointed?
It takes a lot to remind me of this, though. I'm not sure why, but every so often in my life a huge mystery crops up. I'm frustrated by it. It worries me and destroys my sense of ego - as most of my ego is based on me grasping the world around me in a smug, know-it-all sort of way. But I realize soon enough the excitement of it all. A new puzzle to solve. A new challenge to figure out.
The frustrating part is not knowing whether I'll figure it out or whether my solution to the mystery will work. And of course there's the general uncertainty of having something prevalent in my life that's up in the air. We, as humans, like closure. We like bad guys to lose in movies and good guys to get the girl. We like loose ends being tied up because we get on edge when they don't. We hate open endings because they excite us and we seek comfort. Our primal quest for food, shelter, companionship is a question that demands an answer. We have to have those answers, because without them, we wonder if we'll survive. Perhaps knowing if the hero escapes the deadly trap, captures the villain and marries the girl is a matter of survival for us as well.
In the drama of our own lives, we are terrified by the unknown, by the x factor that crops up in our plans and ruins them. Makes us rethink them. Maybe takes a goal away from us permanently. This is even more frustrating - more so than having a question up in the air, is having it answered in a way that we didn't want. From this point, we usually choose denial or we go through the five stages of grief as if we'd lost something as important as life itself.
We deny, we get angry, we bargain, we get sad, and then, hopefully, we accept.
The question is, do we hate having something in our lives that is a frustrating mystery more than we hate having the answer to that mystery be the one we weren't hoping for? Would we rather be frustrated or disappointed?
11 December 2007
The Humbug
Why don't we trust in rationale?
We've been on this planet for so long, and we still fear the unknown so strongly that we choose to use voodoo and magic instead of trusting in the honesty and completeness of science and common sense. There are still opportunists that prey on the fears and misunderstandings, the wish-fulfillment thinking that pervades some people who have a desperate need for answers and an open pocket book.
Reflexology, Feng Shui, Crystal Power, Shakras, Magic Pills, Weight loss miracles, Telekinesis, ESP, talking with the dead, spoon benders - and the greatest hack, the most despicable opportunists in my book - televangelists.
Benny Hinn, Peter Popoff, Jim Bakker, Oral Roberts and others. Even though these men were publicly exposed as frauds, they continued to thrive and make money off of some of the poorer members of society.
They promises things they can't. They promise healing powers. Peter Popoff, for one, claimed that God was speaking directly to him. He seemed to divinely know the names of members of his audience, their addresses, their afflictions, and he used the intensity of his personality to make people believe he could heal them without medicine. He was exposed as a fake on Johnny Carson's show when debunker James Randi proved that Peter Popoff wasn't hearing the voice of God, but hearing the voice of his wife feeding him information through a tiny ear piece. Information she got from prayer cards and info cards filled out by audience members.
These are the charlatans of our time. Purveyors of a billion dollar industry that strips away the dignity of its followers along with their money. Bakker embezzled from his organization. Oral Roberts claimed he needed 8 million in donations or he'd die - which got his followers cash flowing - Hinn made prophesy after prophesy that didn't come true in the mid-90s. Despite being proven time and time again that they have no magical powers, no direct line to God (anymore than any Christian would claim) they still have followings and still get boatloads of cash. What would Jesus do, right?
The question is not a matter of being disgusted by it all. That's easy. The question is, how can we combat it? Can it be combated? How do we see an end to people taking advantage of others in this way? Why, with all that science has given us, do people still believe that a $30 handkerchief from a television minister can cure Cancer?
How much further must we go before we leave magical thinking behind for real results?
We've been on this planet for so long, and we still fear the unknown so strongly that we choose to use voodoo and magic instead of trusting in the honesty and completeness of science and common sense. There are still opportunists that prey on the fears and misunderstandings, the wish-fulfillment thinking that pervades some people who have a desperate need for answers and an open pocket book.
Reflexology, Feng Shui, Crystal Power, Shakras, Magic Pills, Weight loss miracles, Telekinesis, ESP, talking with the dead, spoon benders - and the greatest hack, the most despicable opportunists in my book - televangelists.
Benny Hinn, Peter Popoff, Jim Bakker, Oral Roberts and others. Even though these men were publicly exposed as frauds, they continued to thrive and make money off of some of the poorer members of society.
They promises things they can't. They promise healing powers. Peter Popoff, for one, claimed that God was speaking directly to him. He seemed to divinely know the names of members of his audience, their addresses, their afflictions, and he used the intensity of his personality to make people believe he could heal them without medicine. He was exposed as a fake on Johnny Carson's show when debunker James Randi proved that Peter Popoff wasn't hearing the voice of God, but hearing the voice of his wife feeding him information through a tiny ear piece. Information she got from prayer cards and info cards filled out by audience members.
These are the charlatans of our time. Purveyors of a billion dollar industry that strips away the dignity of its followers along with their money. Bakker embezzled from his organization. Oral Roberts claimed he needed 8 million in donations or he'd die - which got his followers cash flowing - Hinn made prophesy after prophesy that didn't come true in the mid-90s. Despite being proven time and time again that they have no magical powers, no direct line to God (anymore than any Christian would claim) they still have followings and still get boatloads of cash. What would Jesus do, right?
The question is not a matter of being disgusted by it all. That's easy. The question is, how can we combat it? Can it be combated? How do we see an end to people taking advantage of others in this way? Why, with all that science has given us, do people still believe that a $30 handkerchief from a television minister can cure Cancer?
How much further must we go before we leave magical thinking behind for real results?
Why I Didn't Post in November
Happy November.
This month is a very special one for me - for the past several years, I've struggled alongside thousands of others in the pursuit of writing a novel during National Novel Writing Month. Like other celebrated months, it is a reminder of the joy of writing, but it's also an incredible challenge and thorn in the side for anyone who takes it seriously.
It's not a competition, but it has winners. The goal is to create a 50,000 manuscript within one month. That's roughly 1,667 words per day. For visual effect, that's 2 1/4 pages of type, single spaced or the size of a normal paper you'd write for a standard college course. You have to write one of those every day.
It's an excellent trial in a world without much challenge anymore. We have to seek out adventure in a way that many before us didn't. Our lives are so comfortable and yet there is an aching there to achieve something beyond the contentment that the world affords us with little to no effort. It is part of the natural human condition to want to push thresholds and break boundaries. The reason? You know that there is something more to yourself than what you know, and you're dying to find out what all is there. Knowing your limitations is a good thing because it means you've tested them.
Do you have a challenge in your life? Something that exhausts you? Something that you might fail at? I feel like that component is missing from our lives. We love the feeling of achievement, but we hate the challenge of getting there. Is there anything in your life that you would describe as 'daunting'? If not, you should find something as soon as possible.
I love this month because it is aggravating, destructive, maniacal, emotional, frustrating and beautiful. It shows that the process of creation is a terrible and awful process that leads, in the end, to something that didn't exist in the world before you put it there. Let that sink in. The universe was complete at any given moment - and you have the power to add something to it. To give something to people that they didn't have before.
There are challenges ahead. I hope you find them.
Good luck.
This month is a very special one for me - for the past several years, I've struggled alongside thousands of others in the pursuit of writing a novel during National Novel Writing Month. Like other celebrated months, it is a reminder of the joy of writing, but it's also an incredible challenge and thorn in the side for anyone who takes it seriously.
It's not a competition, but it has winners. The goal is to create a 50,000 manuscript within one month. That's roughly 1,667 words per day. For visual effect, that's 2 1/4 pages of type, single spaced or the size of a normal paper you'd write for a standard college course. You have to write one of those every day.
It's an excellent trial in a world without much challenge anymore. We have to seek out adventure in a way that many before us didn't. Our lives are so comfortable and yet there is an aching there to achieve something beyond the contentment that the world affords us with little to no effort. It is part of the natural human condition to want to push thresholds and break boundaries. The reason? You know that there is something more to yourself than what you know, and you're dying to find out what all is there. Knowing your limitations is a good thing because it means you've tested them.
Do you have a challenge in your life? Something that exhausts you? Something that you might fail at? I feel like that component is missing from our lives. We love the feeling of achievement, but we hate the challenge of getting there. Is there anything in your life that you would describe as 'daunting'? If not, you should find something as soon as possible.
I love this month because it is aggravating, destructive, maniacal, emotional, frustrating and beautiful. It shows that the process of creation is a terrible and awful process that leads, in the end, to something that didn't exist in the world before you put it there. Let that sink in. The universe was complete at any given moment - and you have the power to add something to it. To give something to people that they didn't have before.
There are challenges ahead. I hope you find them.
Good luck.
07 December 2007
A Cliff or a Slippery Slope
I really hate doing this.
A Baylor professor - specifically, a Baylor professor teaching at the Seminary school - recently wrote an article for the Baylor newspaper detailing how Atheism lacked a moral grounding. His ultimate conclusion was that atheists could be good people in spite of their belief and not because of it. It did not help his cause that his arguments were grounded in ignorance. It also did not help his cause that he opened the piece by saying he felt sorry for atheists.
Feel free to read the piece for yourself here, but be warned it's essentially a roll call of typical shallow points that have no real base in reality. It seems odd to write that in such lofty terms, but I can't stress enough how intellectually lazy this guy is. Perhaps if you've had these same thoughts about Atheism, I can help to enlighten you.
If you don't want to read it, I'll (poorly) sum up his main two points:
1) Atheism defaults to the Law of Nature - survival of the fittest - and cannot explain why humans should care for one another.
2) Atheism defaults to nihilism wherein there is no meaningfulness attached to life.
I cannot stress enough how patently wrong these statements are.
For starters, Atheism does not equate with Christianity, it equates with Theism. The easy way out would be to say that Atheism is not meant to be a moral structure, it is only a belief structure the way Theism is. Indeed, Christianity is a particular flavor of Theism which goes beyond saying there is a God to giving It creative powers, moods, expectations, a personality and a Book that It's written outlining how humans are supposed to live.
But Atheism does have some moral manifestations based solely on the belief that there is no God. The most prevalent is personal responsibility. Without a figure looming above, the onus is placed securely on the person's shoulders to exercise humanity. This is an incredibly moral imperative. But it's also a blank slate. Since there is no Book of answers on how to be human, the person must do the hard work of figuring out what that means.
Of course it does not always work. There are plenty of atheists out there who refuse or complicate that responsibility and end up utilizing its freedom without understanding or practicing its ethos. In the world's least surprising turn of events, some Christians don't either.
To directly confront the two points made in the article -
1) There is no "law of nature". There are laws of nature. Tying Atheism to Survival of the Fittest is one of the more laughable claims I've seen made. Atheism can explain easily why people should care for other people - because this life is all we and others have. To look pale in the face of your fellow man and deny that person's existence is something best left to the judgmental. Atheism in its purest form is non-judgmental because it doesn't seek to be. Without the threat of an afterlife, we have a responsibility to make this life as shining and brilliant as possible. We seek to make it better not just for ourselves, but for others. (And when has anyone really made life better for themselves without helping out others?) I could go on if needed.
2) Just because Atheism does not feature a parent-figure handing down a "meaning" of life does not make it nihilism. I find beauty and wonder in all things of this world. To use the basis of not having an afterlife again, I would say that my meaning of life stems from enjoying it to the fullest. Also, it's incredibly depressing to think that there's no meaning to life without God simply for the distinct possibility that one might not exist. I'm life affirming, and the meaning of this incredibly universe for me is not contingent on something that can never be known. To believe that there is no meaning to life without God seems to be the status of a man trapped by his belief - with no other alternative but to believe in God. I'm not sure what kind of belief that really is.
I know I haven't spoken much about my beliefs, and you might have questions. I'm open to all of them.
I also feel moved to thank you all for being in my life. I fear that without you, I would have a far grimmer view of Christians. You're shining examples of what Christ's love can do when it shines through. Know that.
Gotta get back to the grind. I've got a lot more of my meaningless existence to endure.
A Baylor professor - specifically, a Baylor professor teaching at the Seminary school - recently wrote an article for the Baylor newspaper detailing how Atheism lacked a moral grounding. His ultimate conclusion was that atheists could be good people in spite of their belief and not because of it. It did not help his cause that his arguments were grounded in ignorance. It also did not help his cause that he opened the piece by saying he felt sorry for atheists.
Feel free to read the piece for yourself here, but be warned it's essentially a roll call of typical shallow points that have no real base in reality. It seems odd to write that in such lofty terms, but I can't stress enough how intellectually lazy this guy is. Perhaps if you've had these same thoughts about Atheism, I can help to enlighten you.
If you don't want to read it, I'll (poorly) sum up his main two points:
1) Atheism defaults to the Law of Nature - survival of the fittest - and cannot explain why humans should care for one another.
2) Atheism defaults to nihilism wherein there is no meaningfulness attached to life.
I cannot stress enough how patently wrong these statements are.
For starters, Atheism does not equate with Christianity, it equates with Theism. The easy way out would be to say that Atheism is not meant to be a moral structure, it is only a belief structure the way Theism is. Indeed, Christianity is a particular flavor of Theism which goes beyond saying there is a God to giving It creative powers, moods, expectations, a personality and a Book that It's written outlining how humans are supposed to live.
But Atheism does have some moral manifestations based solely on the belief that there is no God. The most prevalent is personal responsibility. Without a figure looming above, the onus is placed securely on the person's shoulders to exercise humanity. This is an incredibly moral imperative. But it's also a blank slate. Since there is no Book of answers on how to be human, the person must do the hard work of figuring out what that means.
Of course it does not always work. There are plenty of atheists out there who refuse or complicate that responsibility and end up utilizing its freedom without understanding or practicing its ethos. In the world's least surprising turn of events, some Christians don't either.
To directly confront the two points made in the article -
1) There is no "law of nature". There are laws of nature. Tying Atheism to Survival of the Fittest is one of the more laughable claims I've seen made. Atheism can explain easily why people should care for other people - because this life is all we and others have. To look pale in the face of your fellow man and deny that person's existence is something best left to the judgmental. Atheism in its purest form is non-judgmental because it doesn't seek to be. Without the threat of an afterlife, we have a responsibility to make this life as shining and brilliant as possible. We seek to make it better not just for ourselves, but for others. (And when has anyone really made life better for themselves without helping out others?) I could go on if needed.
2) Just because Atheism does not feature a parent-figure handing down a "meaning" of life does not make it nihilism. I find beauty and wonder in all things of this world. To use the basis of not having an afterlife again, I would say that my meaning of life stems from enjoying it to the fullest. Also, it's incredibly depressing to think that there's no meaning to life without God simply for the distinct possibility that one might not exist. I'm life affirming, and the meaning of this incredibly universe for me is not contingent on something that can never be known. To believe that there is no meaning to life without God seems to be the status of a man trapped by his belief - with no other alternative but to believe in God. I'm not sure what kind of belief that really is.
I know I haven't spoken much about my beliefs, and you might have questions. I'm open to all of them.
I also feel moved to thank you all for being in my life. I fear that without you, I would have a far grimmer view of Christians. You're shining examples of what Christ's love can do when it shines through. Know that.
Gotta get back to the grind. I've got a lot more of my meaningless existence to endure.
Picket Fences
Imagine you're the ruler of a small country. You're benevolent, for the most part, everyone seems to be doing alright, and your government is a prosperous one.
But you've recently enacted a policy that has many of your people up in arms.
Would you listen to a protest?
The recent activity here in DC regarding the IMF and World Bank has people taking to the streets, and I'm wondering if it's completely fruitless. If it's all in vain. The central question that I'm wondering today is whether or not protests work.
It seems like there's a decent amount of examples on both sides, but it's clear when a protest fails. When a protest "works", it might not actually be the reason that an issue was resolved. Perhaps there were back door dealings, meetings, changes of heart. Maybe the protest was taking place after the government decided to change its stance.
There's a lot of money put into these things as well. A lot of time and effort by organizers. Is all of that just a wash? Would you even care to listen to a mob of strangers if you were running things?
This is our revolution, neutered.
Since we can't pick up arms against our government anymore - like we did in 1776 and off and on over the next 100 years - it seems like protesting is our way of walking up to the current power, pointing a finger at them, and yelling, "Bang!". It seems just as effective, too.
Have you ever protested anything? Or thought about it? Or been angry enough to?
Most of our founding political philosophers felt that the need for government came directly from a need to quell emotional responses. Instead of fire and passion, government should be built by reasoning and contemplation. Of course, Jefferson also claimed that a free society fed on "the blood of tyrants and patriots alike". The patriots he referred to being revolutionaries with weapons. I guess an even more overarching question (as I'm thinking about this) is one of how we change society.
How does one in the modern age go about affecting change on such a broad scale? If the world isn't turning out the way we think it should, are we powerless to stop it?
But you've recently enacted a policy that has many of your people up in arms.
Would you listen to a protest?
The recent activity here in DC regarding the IMF and World Bank has people taking to the streets, and I'm wondering if it's completely fruitless. If it's all in vain. The central question that I'm wondering today is whether or not protests work.
It seems like there's a decent amount of examples on both sides, but it's clear when a protest fails. When a protest "works", it might not actually be the reason that an issue was resolved. Perhaps there were back door dealings, meetings, changes of heart. Maybe the protest was taking place after the government decided to change its stance.
There's a lot of money put into these things as well. A lot of time and effort by organizers. Is all of that just a wash? Would you even care to listen to a mob of strangers if you were running things?
This is our revolution, neutered.
Since we can't pick up arms against our government anymore - like we did in 1776 and off and on over the next 100 years - it seems like protesting is our way of walking up to the current power, pointing a finger at them, and yelling, "Bang!". It seems just as effective, too.
Have you ever protested anything? Or thought about it? Or been angry enough to?
Most of our founding political philosophers felt that the need for government came directly from a need to quell emotional responses. Instead of fire and passion, government should be built by reasoning and contemplation. Of course, Jefferson also claimed that a free society fed on "the blood of tyrants and patriots alike". The patriots he referred to being revolutionaries with weapons. I guess an even more overarching question (as I'm thinking about this) is one of how we change society.
How does one in the modern age go about affecting change on such a broad scale? If the world isn't turning out the way we think it should, are we powerless to stop it?
05 December 2007
A Better Human Trap
Most of us have willingly gotten into a machine that could end our lives. It's steel and metal and travels at incredible speeds. It's surrounded by others just like it on the road, driven by varying degrees of talent. It is a calculable danger that we take almost every day of our lives. There are countless others just like it. But we trust in people.
So much of our lives is dependent on authority. We live a mass continuum of teachers and students, each playing the role for someone else. This is a major part of our lives that we pay no attention to.
You couldn't live your life without expertise. The room you sleep in, the things you have outfitted your living space with were made by someone with expertise in building things. The city you live in was created by a city planner and architects. Same goes for the roads, the buildings around you, the transit system, your car. These things would not be possible without authorities on the subject. If you attend classes, you willfully subject yourself to an expert, an authority figure with credentials to prove her knowledge.
The food you eat, the clothes you wear, the entire world you live in is due to experts. We have these things down to a science. Not perfection, just high-level understanding.
And for the most part, we never give these things a second thought. We bow down to authority fairly easily. We take what experts say at face value a lot of the time. The trout population in Lake Wimmons has grown over the past decade, you say, Mr. Scientist? Sounds about right.
We do this because we have no way of finding these things out empirically for ourselves. When the government tells us they have evidence that another country is working toward nuclear capabilities, we can't storm off and do our own research. Plus, we have an expert role to play in our lives. Being an expert has nothing to do with PhDs or lofty posts. Maybe you're an expert on relationships, on faith, perhaps you're an incredible listener or friend. These are their own expertises.
You are an authority on something.
I think the lack of questioning authority on a daily basis is encouraging. I think it shows not really a trust in people - since you don't know the specific team of people who put your car together - but a faith in humanity as a whole. It shows that we trust the system in place, we trust the idea of someone knowing things that we don't and agree to let them know those things for us. In a way, it's a collective brain that we're dealing with. I am fine not to know certain things because other people know them for me, and I can usually get the information if I need it. But I usually won't. I don't know how to build a car to make it safe, but I know other people do, and I benefit from it without even ever meeting the person.
It is trust without knowledge.
So much of our lives is dependent on authority. We live a mass continuum of teachers and students, each playing the role for someone else. This is a major part of our lives that we pay no attention to.
You couldn't live your life without expertise. The room you sleep in, the things you have outfitted your living space with were made by someone with expertise in building things. The city you live in was created by a city planner and architects. Same goes for the roads, the buildings around you, the transit system, your car. These things would not be possible without authorities on the subject. If you attend classes, you willfully subject yourself to an expert, an authority figure with credentials to prove her knowledge.
The food you eat, the clothes you wear, the entire world you live in is due to experts. We have these things down to a science. Not perfection, just high-level understanding.
And for the most part, we never give these things a second thought. We bow down to authority fairly easily. We take what experts say at face value a lot of the time. The trout population in Lake Wimmons has grown over the past decade, you say, Mr. Scientist? Sounds about right.
We do this because we have no way of finding these things out empirically for ourselves. When the government tells us they have evidence that another country is working toward nuclear capabilities, we can't storm off and do our own research. Plus, we have an expert role to play in our lives. Being an expert has nothing to do with PhDs or lofty posts. Maybe you're an expert on relationships, on faith, perhaps you're an incredible listener or friend. These are their own expertises.
You are an authority on something.
I think the lack of questioning authority on a daily basis is encouraging. I think it shows not really a trust in people - since you don't know the specific team of people who put your car together - but a faith in humanity as a whole. It shows that we trust the system in place, we trust the idea of someone knowing things that we don't and agree to let them know those things for us. In a way, it's a collective brain that we're dealing with. I am fine not to know certain things because other people know them for me, and I can usually get the information if I need it. But I usually won't. I don't know how to build a car to make it safe, but I know other people do, and I benefit from it without even ever meeting the person.
It is trust without knowledge.
03 December 2007
Stubborn Old Wounds
Continuing with the question of the meaning of life, I started wondering if religious people have already found it.
By all definitions, practitioners have. They live their life according to an ethos that they consider to be the Truth about reality and the correct way to govern life. I think that's one thing that's always felt off to me about practicing religion - there's a certain sense of being a finished product.
I realize that for some that sort of thing could put them on the defensive - we all want to feel like we're growing. Getting better. Moving forward. But realistically speaking, someone who practices a religion has already gotten life figured out.
Perhaps the meaning of life needs to be split up into two separate categories. One is an all-encompassing answer to why we're all here. And the other is a question of what your particular life is supposed to mean.
There's a tension in saying that you've got it all figured out. I mean, we all have to live by some directive. We've all got life figured out to the point that we can live it effectively. But the question of what one person is here for - that's something that could take an entire lifetime. It's something to grow in. Something to get better at. Something to move forward with.
A wise person once suggested that I read Lewis's On Obstinacy and Belief. I did. It was great. There's one particular section that seems to speak to the meaning of life - at least the meaning as interpreted by a believer.
Lewis describes the faith of someone in trouble - a dog stuck in a trap is one example - and the belief that although the person saving him is sometimes giving messages contradictory to common sense - i.e. you have to put your foot farther into the trap in order to get it out - the savior really does know best. According to Lewis, humans must live like that dog in the trap, assuming that the creator knows all things and has information that we don't. This is an illustration of the trust that must exist in the creator's plan.
So the meaning of life is essentially one of transferring the knowledge of the universe to a being that already has it and keeping a close eye and ear to what instructions that being has to give. And then following them.
I keep going back in my mind on how good an illustration that is.
By all definitions, practitioners have. They live their life according to an ethos that they consider to be the Truth about reality and the correct way to govern life. I think that's one thing that's always felt off to me about practicing religion - there's a certain sense of being a finished product.
I realize that for some that sort of thing could put them on the defensive - we all want to feel like we're growing. Getting better. Moving forward. But realistically speaking, someone who practices a religion has already gotten life figured out.
Perhaps the meaning of life needs to be split up into two separate categories. One is an all-encompassing answer to why we're all here. And the other is a question of what your particular life is supposed to mean.
There's a tension in saying that you've got it all figured out. I mean, we all have to live by some directive. We've all got life figured out to the point that we can live it effectively. But the question of what one person is here for - that's something that could take an entire lifetime. It's something to grow in. Something to get better at. Something to move forward with.
A wise person once suggested that I read Lewis's On Obstinacy and Belief. I did. It was great. There's one particular section that seems to speak to the meaning of life - at least the meaning as interpreted by a believer.
Lewis describes the faith of someone in trouble - a dog stuck in a trap is one example - and the belief that although the person saving him is sometimes giving messages contradictory to common sense - i.e. you have to put your foot farther into the trap in order to get it out - the savior really does know best. According to Lewis, humans must live like that dog in the trap, assuming that the creator knows all things and has information that we don't. This is an illustration of the trust that must exist in the creator's plan.
So the meaning of life is essentially one of transferring the knowledge of the universe to a being that already has it and keeping a close eye and ear to what instructions that being has to give. And then following them.
I keep going back in my mind on how good an illustration that is.
The Cold Start
Welcome to December.
We're at the home stretch here. In less than thirty days, there will be a new year for us to do with what we like. I've always had it out for new years. Mostly because of the complete arbitrariness of the whole thing. The Romans laid the foundation for the calendar cycle that we have today, but it could have been anyone. The names of the months could be different. The amount of days in each could be, too. And, most importantly, the start of the year could be sometime in March or June or August.
It's funny how much stock we place in it though, especially considering what we do for it. The celebration is one thing, but the social norm I've always found most fascinating is the new year's resolution. It is the idea that despite our failed attempts in the past and a lack of discipline, we can somehow find the strength to give up a vice or gain a virtue simply because there's a larger starting gun.
This is a prime example of what I meant when I talked about waiting for permission to live our lives.
The reality is, obviously, that you don't need a symbolic fresh start to change your life. In fact, most resolutions fail horribly because they exist only at a surface level. You could change your life today, this minute, if you wanted to. You don't really need a large holiday or fireworks to make it happen.
Something else will happen in less than 30 days. We will have known each other for six months. Half of a year. Some of you I've known for longer, of course, but if we're going to measure out our lives month to month, most of you will have been in 2% of my life. It doesn't sound like much, but think about how dramatically you've impacted my life, how much you've changed each other. And if you're really concerned about racking up large numbers - stick with me until I'm 80 and you will have been in 72% of my life.
Now is a time for thinking about how far we've come and how far still we have left to travel with each other. Think about how much you know about each other and the vast realm of things you still don't know. There is still so much left to explore.
In less than a month, there will be a new year waiting for us to attack it with gusto. But who says we have to wait that long to attack?
We're at the home stretch here. In less than thirty days, there will be a new year for us to do with what we like. I've always had it out for new years. Mostly because of the complete arbitrariness of the whole thing. The Romans laid the foundation for the calendar cycle that we have today, but it could have been anyone. The names of the months could be different. The amount of days in each could be, too. And, most importantly, the start of the year could be sometime in March or June or August.
It's funny how much stock we place in it though, especially considering what we do for it. The celebration is one thing, but the social norm I've always found most fascinating is the new year's resolution. It is the idea that despite our failed attempts in the past and a lack of discipline, we can somehow find the strength to give up a vice or gain a virtue simply because there's a larger starting gun.
This is a prime example of what I meant when I talked about waiting for permission to live our lives.
The reality is, obviously, that you don't need a symbolic fresh start to change your life. In fact, most resolutions fail horribly because they exist only at a surface level. You could change your life today, this minute, if you wanted to. You don't really need a large holiday or fireworks to make it happen.
Something else will happen in less than 30 days. We will have known each other for six months. Half of a year. Some of you I've known for longer, of course, but if we're going to measure out our lives month to month, most of you will have been in 2% of my life. It doesn't sound like much, but think about how dramatically you've impacted my life, how much you've changed each other. And if you're really concerned about racking up large numbers - stick with me until I'm 80 and you will have been in 72% of my life.
Now is a time for thinking about how far we've come and how far still we have left to travel with each other. Think about how much you know about each other and the vast realm of things you still don't know. There is still so much left to explore.
In less than a month, there will be a new year waiting for us to attack it with gusto. But who says we have to wait that long to attack?
05 November 2007
Path of Least Resistance
Is there any reason to search for the meaning of life?
It seems as though we live in a culture that has abandoned the question almost altogether, which is especially alarming considering that the question is only getting more complex. We're dealing with ancient questions and modern ones alike. The new ones seem to pile on by the minute. Is it ethical to clone humans? Can we achieve immortality through medicine? Is changing the social dynamic a good or bad thing? How can so many still be starving in the world? Are we powerless against fate?
There are arguments to support a need for ignorance though. It's difficult to watch those around us who float through life without any desire to look upwards to the sky or inward into themselves. They are content to consume whatever's given to them. And they're happy. With intelligence comes sadness - the knowledge of the greater implications of one's actions or inactions is enough to drive one to drinking. The evils of the world are overwhelming when taken in all at once.
But the meaning of life is a necessity, so I've been thinking about a rebuttal to the main arguments.
1) There is no meaning of life.
Of course there is. As there is a system, there is a set of rules for it. Because there are a set of rules for it, there is a correct way to navigate those rules. To claim that there is no absolute truth is an absolute truth statement. At the end of the day, somewhere in the universe, there is an absolute truth that governs all of existence.
2) We, as humans, cannot find or understand that truth.
As if this was an excuse not to look for it. Not to leap off of the deep end in search of something buried deep within the human spirit. Sometimes I feel like we're attacking on all fronts. Science is furiously working to understand the world. Philosophy is furiously working to understand man. And Theology is furiously working to understand the beyond. Plus, even if we never find or understand the Truth, isn't the search most of the fun?
3) You don't need a meaning of life to live it.
This is the prevailing wind of the day. It seems like our peers are awash in the spirit of undefinability. Now, I'm all for casting off the old, dusty definitions that our parents created, but I want to replace them with something. I want to be a pioneer, not someone who gets in the car, starts her up, and has no idea where he's going or what's powering the motor. To be alive, you have to know what you're living for.
This thought seems more bravado-filled than normal, but it needs to happen every once in a while. Figure out what you're living for. What drives you. Stop what you're doing until you know. Maybe what you're doing is a waste of time, maybe it seems like a waste but isn't, maybe you're exactly on track.
The search for the meaning of life is easy. It can be found in giant, old tomes or at the bottom of a laundry basket or in the end credits of a movie or in a friend's handshake. Live your life as that search, and it'll at least be worthwhile. Or at very least, entertaining.
It seems as though we live in a culture that has abandoned the question almost altogether, which is especially alarming considering that the question is only getting more complex. We're dealing with ancient questions and modern ones alike. The new ones seem to pile on by the minute. Is it ethical to clone humans? Can we achieve immortality through medicine? Is changing the social dynamic a good or bad thing? How can so many still be starving in the world? Are we powerless against fate?
There are arguments to support a need for ignorance though. It's difficult to watch those around us who float through life without any desire to look upwards to the sky or inward into themselves. They are content to consume whatever's given to them. And they're happy. With intelligence comes sadness - the knowledge of the greater implications of one's actions or inactions is enough to drive one to drinking. The evils of the world are overwhelming when taken in all at once.
But the meaning of life is a necessity, so I've been thinking about a rebuttal to the main arguments.
1) There is no meaning of life.
Of course there is. As there is a system, there is a set of rules for it. Because there are a set of rules for it, there is a correct way to navigate those rules. To claim that there is no absolute truth is an absolute truth statement. At the end of the day, somewhere in the universe, there is an absolute truth that governs all of existence.
2) We, as humans, cannot find or understand that truth.
As if this was an excuse not to look for it. Not to leap off of the deep end in search of something buried deep within the human spirit. Sometimes I feel like we're attacking on all fronts. Science is furiously working to understand the world. Philosophy is furiously working to understand man. And Theology is furiously working to understand the beyond. Plus, even if we never find or understand the Truth, isn't the search most of the fun?
3) You don't need a meaning of life to live it.
This is the prevailing wind of the day. It seems like our peers are awash in the spirit of undefinability. Now, I'm all for casting off the old, dusty definitions that our parents created, but I want to replace them with something. I want to be a pioneer, not someone who gets in the car, starts her up, and has no idea where he's going or what's powering the motor. To be alive, you have to know what you're living for.
This thought seems more bravado-filled than normal, but it needs to happen every once in a while. Figure out what you're living for. What drives you. Stop what you're doing until you know. Maybe what you're doing is a waste of time, maybe it seems like a waste but isn't, maybe you're exactly on track.
The search for the meaning of life is easy. It can be found in giant, old tomes or at the bottom of a laundry basket or in the end credits of a movie or in a friend's handshake. Live your life as that search, and it'll at least be worthwhile. Or at very least, entertaining.
02 November 2007
Retro-Exodus
Someone on the list wanted to know my thoughts on sexuality, on waiting until marriage, monogamy, etc. Consider this a thought on request.
I've been thinking a lot about what one pastor dubs warm love and cool love. He's noting the trend for couples to lose interest in each other. The warm love of the beginning stage gives way to a cooler love, a calmer love. This is, most often times, not a good thing. It is certainly not smiled upon by the couples themselves.
Why does this happen? I think I have a few reasons.
1) Marriage is not necessarily the natural order. It is within our nature to be monogamous but humans are one of the few species that couples in a wide array of ways. Take dating for instance - most animals don't date. They find a partner, mate, and either stay with that partner for life or go on to others. But, we are also an animal that couples for more than the propagation of the species. We find love. We need companionship. We want to stay up until 4am having deep conversations about nothing. We need a Scrabble partner. We want someone to cook eggs for in the morning. Someone to decide which restaurant to go to. Someone to drag us to a movie we don't want to see. Someone to hold our hand.
But we also like variety, and marriage does not afford that to us. Here's the surprise of the century: Marriage takes work. And that shouldn't be a surprise to most going into a religiously sanctioned unity. Like most everything in religion, marriage is a struggle against nature. The Bible requests that you slough off the recklessness of human nature for the divine spirit. You must die and be reborn in a new light. Marriage is no different. It is a challenge against your natural drive. There is nothing wrong with coupling, but the pastor makes a great point by showing that a different kind of love seems to cancel the old love. And something is lost. The question is, does this have to happen?
2) Specifically dealing with Christian culture, there is a certain naivety that comes into play when dealing with sex. In some ways, I envy it. Why? Because I didn't wait until marriage, and there are certainly some benefits to be had by waiting. But I also note the pitfalls of waiting. I was hanging out with some friends at Baylor one day, and a guy I know was excitedly flashing his Human Sexuality textbook in our faces and shouting like crazy about one of the illustrations. He was giddy. It was hilarious to him. A mix between a joke and a treasure at the bottom of a pyramid. He clamored the way a thirteen year old does when he stumbles upon his father's Playboy. I turned to a friend and (in a comment I now regret making (shocking, I know)) I said, "This is what happens when you wait til marriage to have sex."
My friend, 21 at the time, acted effectively like a child when it came to a simple illustration. He had no candor, no maturity about a subject that demands it. This Human Sexuality course he took in college was the first real introduction to anything of consequence that he'd seen in the topic. Nearly a decade after developing as a man, he was finally seeing what everything was used for. It was mildly embarrassing for him.
If I can make a tangential diatribe - I blame some of this, and a lot of youthful sexual ills on abstinence-only sex-ed. I think this sort of teaching exists because they believe that education is the same as condoning. They believe that students will be introduced to sex in a classroom when, in fact, sex is introduced at a young age to students by nature itself. Also, I know of no situation in life where more knowledge is a bad thing, where ignorance is key to solving a problem. Abstinence-only education seems to cover its eyes to teenage sex and shout, "La la la" so loudly that it can't hear the truth. Battling AIDS and teen pregnancy is not done by pretending that people don't experiment with sex until after marriage.
All this to say, the pastor who coined the phrases is right. The image of Christianity is one of sacrifice, solemnity, not red-hot passionate love making. It's silly to even think about the dichotomy a person has to be to share an incredible devoutness to purity during their youth and then express an insatiable sexual appetite once marriage strikes. Why? Because a sexual awakening happens at an early age, and if not cultivated until later, it can lead to certain misunderstandings. Part of that ease of expression comes from experimentation when you're young. Without that, it seems difficult to go crazy once you've said your vows. It was even mentioned by Alfred Kinsey - noted scholar on the subject of sex - that one of the reasons he decided to do his groundbreaking study of the subject in the fifties was because he counseled a ton of newlyweds who didn't even understand the basic mechanics of the situation. Nowadays, I feel like we are better educated.
For a cultural context for the Bible and its Old Testament view on saving yourself until marriage - girls were getting married at 12 and 13 to 16 and 18 year old boys. Think you could wait until then? What's more, that was practically middle-aged by the age-expectancy of the time.
I suppose I haven't said much by way of opinion on any matters, suffice it to say that I think monogamy and waiting until marriage are good things that come with prices. But they are certainly not overwhelming prices. They just take work. Whenever you choose a particular lifestyle, you gain riches and lose opportunities. And I've said before that since we've got food and shelter down (for most in society), that finding a mate is the last great struggle for us as humans. If you find someone that loves you, count yourself lucky, do the hard work it takes to keep that person, and cook eggs for them every morning with a smile on your face.
There's a sunny-side up joke there somewhere, but I'm not one to make it.
I've been thinking a lot about what one pastor dubs warm love and cool love. He's noting the trend for couples to lose interest in each other. The warm love of the beginning stage gives way to a cooler love, a calmer love. This is, most often times, not a good thing. It is certainly not smiled upon by the couples themselves.
Why does this happen? I think I have a few reasons.
1) Marriage is not necessarily the natural order. It is within our nature to be monogamous but humans are one of the few species that couples in a wide array of ways. Take dating for instance - most animals don't date. They find a partner, mate, and either stay with that partner for life or go on to others. But, we are also an animal that couples for more than the propagation of the species. We find love. We need companionship. We want to stay up until 4am having deep conversations about nothing. We need a Scrabble partner. We want someone to cook eggs for in the morning. Someone to decide which restaurant to go to. Someone to drag us to a movie we don't want to see. Someone to hold our hand.
But we also like variety, and marriage does not afford that to us. Here's the surprise of the century: Marriage takes work. And that shouldn't be a surprise to most going into a religiously sanctioned unity. Like most everything in religion, marriage is a struggle against nature. The Bible requests that you slough off the recklessness of human nature for the divine spirit. You must die and be reborn in a new light. Marriage is no different. It is a challenge against your natural drive. There is nothing wrong with coupling, but the pastor makes a great point by showing that a different kind of love seems to cancel the old love. And something is lost. The question is, does this have to happen?
2) Specifically dealing with Christian culture, there is a certain naivety that comes into play when dealing with sex. In some ways, I envy it. Why? Because I didn't wait until marriage, and there are certainly some benefits to be had by waiting. But I also note the pitfalls of waiting. I was hanging out with some friends at Baylor one day, and a guy I know was excitedly flashing his Human Sexuality textbook in our faces and shouting like crazy about one of the illustrations. He was giddy. It was hilarious to him. A mix between a joke and a treasure at the bottom of a pyramid. He clamored the way a thirteen year old does when he stumbles upon his father's Playboy. I turned to a friend and (in a comment I now regret making (shocking, I know)) I said, "This is what happens when you wait til marriage to have sex."
My friend, 21 at the time, acted effectively like a child when it came to a simple illustration. He had no candor, no maturity about a subject that demands it. This Human Sexuality course he took in college was the first real introduction to anything of consequence that he'd seen in the topic. Nearly a decade after developing as a man, he was finally seeing what everything was used for. It was mildly embarrassing for him.
If I can make a tangential diatribe - I blame some of this, and a lot of youthful sexual ills on abstinence-only sex-ed. I think this sort of teaching exists because they believe that education is the same as condoning. They believe that students will be introduced to sex in a classroom when, in fact, sex is introduced at a young age to students by nature itself. Also, I know of no situation in life where more knowledge is a bad thing, where ignorance is key to solving a problem. Abstinence-only education seems to cover its eyes to teenage sex and shout, "La la la" so loudly that it can't hear the truth. Battling AIDS and teen pregnancy is not done by pretending that people don't experiment with sex until after marriage.
All this to say, the pastor who coined the phrases is right. The image of Christianity is one of sacrifice, solemnity, not red-hot passionate love making. It's silly to even think about the dichotomy a person has to be to share an incredible devoutness to purity during their youth and then express an insatiable sexual appetite once marriage strikes. Why? Because a sexual awakening happens at an early age, and if not cultivated until later, it can lead to certain misunderstandings. Part of that ease of expression comes from experimentation when you're young. Without that, it seems difficult to go crazy once you've said your vows. It was even mentioned by Alfred Kinsey - noted scholar on the subject of sex - that one of the reasons he decided to do his groundbreaking study of the subject in the fifties was because he counseled a ton of newlyweds who didn't even understand the basic mechanics of the situation. Nowadays, I feel like we are better educated.
For a cultural context for the Bible and its Old Testament view on saving yourself until marriage - girls were getting married at 12 and 13 to 16 and 18 year old boys. Think you could wait until then? What's more, that was practically middle-aged by the age-expectancy of the time.
I suppose I haven't said much by way of opinion on any matters, suffice it to say that I think monogamy and waiting until marriage are good things that come with prices. But they are certainly not overwhelming prices. They just take work. Whenever you choose a particular lifestyle, you gain riches and lose opportunities. And I've said before that since we've got food and shelter down (for most in society), that finding a mate is the last great struggle for us as humans. If you find someone that loves you, count yourself lucky, do the hard work it takes to keep that person, and cook eggs for them every morning with a smile on your face.
There's a sunny-side up joke there somewhere, but I'm not one to make it.
Lost Time
Sorry for not emailing yesterday. I was sick, and the only thought going through my mind was when I was going to get better - I doubt you would have enjoyed that email. However, I return triumphant with two thoughts in one day.
The first thought:
It's incredible how much good news can bring you back from the depths. Yesterday was a tough one - it's never easy to be sick, and I spent most of the day completely idle which took its own toll. But late in the 9th inning of the day, I got some good news - nothing crazy, just a simple thing that turned the day around. I got a smile on my face and a second wind. It's interesting how things like that tend to pop up just when you need them.
The second thought:
I play pretty much any instrument that doesn't require that you blow into it. A friend of mine that plays trumpet and I were talking about the differences between the levels of commitment it takes for various instruments, and he noted that if he takes as little as a week off from practicing an hour a day, he can notice the difference.
He gets worse just from missing a week of playing.
Other instruments aren't like that, but there are a solid amount that require constant attention simply to maintain a current skill level. We don't tend to think of life as something that takes practice since we can never really step away from it completely. There's a mental shift between playing an instrument for an audience and practicing. One allows for mistakes.
But shouldn't life be something we practice? Shouldn't we have to take time out to evaluate our progress or to maintain our current skill level? How do we go about doing something like that, separating ourselves from our lives long enough to feel like we can make mistakes?
I think it's possible to mentally practice life or at least mentally prepare for life by knowing what types of things you'll do in certain situations. Boundaries that you feel uneasy about crossing. Stands that you'll be taking. But if you had to write these things down right now, would you be able to? Imagine that someone is asking you what your life is about, what the theme of your life is, what the main driving force in your life is.
Would you be able to answer?
The first thought:
It's incredible how much good news can bring you back from the depths. Yesterday was a tough one - it's never easy to be sick, and I spent most of the day completely idle which took its own toll. But late in the 9th inning of the day, I got some good news - nothing crazy, just a simple thing that turned the day around. I got a smile on my face and a second wind. It's interesting how things like that tend to pop up just when you need them.
The second thought:
I play pretty much any instrument that doesn't require that you blow into it. A friend of mine that plays trumpet and I were talking about the differences between the levels of commitment it takes for various instruments, and he noted that if he takes as little as a week off from practicing an hour a day, he can notice the difference.
He gets worse just from missing a week of playing.
Other instruments aren't like that, but there are a solid amount that require constant attention simply to maintain a current skill level. We don't tend to think of life as something that takes practice since we can never really step away from it completely. There's a mental shift between playing an instrument for an audience and practicing. One allows for mistakes.
But shouldn't life be something we practice? Shouldn't we have to take time out to evaluate our progress or to maintain our current skill level? How do we go about doing something like that, separating ourselves from our lives long enough to feel like we can make mistakes?
I think it's possible to mentally practice life or at least mentally prepare for life by knowing what types of things you'll do in certain situations. Boundaries that you feel uneasy about crossing. Stands that you'll be taking. But if you had to write these things down right now, would you be able to? Imagine that someone is asking you what your life is about, what the theme of your life is, what the main driving force in your life is.
Would you be able to answer?
31 October 2007
The Ghost in the Shell
It seems lately I keep getting into discussions about why Halloween is so appealing - specifically why it's so appealing for members of the fairer sex to dress in far more revealing clothes than normal. It seems as though we're still wearing the costumes of our youth, only updated for adults. Alice in Wonderland becomes Slutty Alice in Wonderland. Indian Princess becomes Slutty Indian Princess. Ronald Reagan mask is replaced by Slutty Ronald Reagan mask. You get the picture.
The appeal seems obvious to me - it's the generic appeal for everyone on Halloween. It's a night to get a free pass.
It's a night where we are specifically instructed not to be ourselves. Now, I won't get into how silly it is to have a socially sanctioned night to go against social sanctions, but for the most part, we're supposed to act differently. We are supposed to let loose and be someone else, live for one night as a vampire, a mummy, an abstract concept. Our behavior changes along with our outfit.
Today is a day of release. It's a day where mischievous behavior is acceptable and even expected. It's a day where all of the sins committed are not even written down or recorded. A day with no authority figure.
So why do some girls dress like Disney-themed prostitutes on this night? Because they're allowed to. Like we're all allowed to play a part - because humans need to not be themselves every once in a while. And we're such pack animals that we only feel safe stepping outside that boundary when the rest of our society says it's alright too.
I remember when I put on my pink polo, popped the collar and borrowed Taylor's Croakies and sunglasses to go to Target. I wanted to experience life differently. I wanted to have people judge me differently based on my appearance. When I dressed in Hunter's clothes for Christmas Dinner - it was a similar situation.
So my question has never been why people dress radically but why they need permission to do it. Why do we insist on only stepping outside our norms when its socially acceptable? Doesn't that sort of negate the entire thing? We cannot really step outside ourselves unless its marginally unsafe. Halloween offers a safe environment for experimentation. But the experimentation is limited by it. To really toy around with being someone else, you have to do it without the net. In order to be seen differently by people - to experience what it's like when you dress a different way or act a different way - their reactions can't be watered down by the social acceptability of it all.
Go trick-or-treating on May 4th, and you'll see what I mean.
The day that we're allowed to dress like freaks is arbitrary anyway. It could have been any day. It could still be any day. Fifty years from now, we might be celebrating a different holiday on a different day that celebrates wearing masks and playing dress up. We should be challenging - or at least playing around with - these human constructs. Talk to people you've never met. Introduce yourself in the elevator. Don't blend into the background of people who are awaiting permission to act oddly. Live your life based on whims. Wear a mask next week. Experience life through the eyes of someone else - real or imaginary. Be homeless for a week. Take a road trip without telling anyone. Paint a picture. Go build a house. The world is not set in stone. It's been defined, but it can be erased and redefined and redefined again.
What does this have to do with dressing appropriately inappropriate? I'm not sure. But I think it's telling that when given permission to go crazy, we usually do.
The appeal seems obvious to me - it's the generic appeal for everyone on Halloween. It's a night to get a free pass.
It's a night where we are specifically instructed not to be ourselves. Now, I won't get into how silly it is to have a socially sanctioned night to go against social sanctions, but for the most part, we're supposed to act differently. We are supposed to let loose and be someone else, live for one night as a vampire, a mummy, an abstract concept. Our behavior changes along with our outfit.
Today is a day of release. It's a day where mischievous behavior is acceptable and even expected. It's a day where all of the sins committed are not even written down or recorded. A day with no authority figure.
So why do some girls dress like Disney-themed prostitutes on this night? Because they're allowed to. Like we're all allowed to play a part - because humans need to not be themselves every once in a while. And we're such pack animals that we only feel safe stepping outside that boundary when the rest of our society says it's alright too.
I remember when I put on my pink polo, popped the collar and borrowed Taylor's Croakies and sunglasses to go to Target. I wanted to experience life differently. I wanted to have people judge me differently based on my appearance. When I dressed in Hunter's clothes for Christmas Dinner - it was a similar situation.
So my question has never been why people dress radically but why they need permission to do it. Why do we insist on only stepping outside our norms when its socially acceptable? Doesn't that sort of negate the entire thing? We cannot really step outside ourselves unless its marginally unsafe. Halloween offers a safe environment for experimentation. But the experimentation is limited by it. To really toy around with being someone else, you have to do it without the net. In order to be seen differently by people - to experience what it's like when you dress a different way or act a different way - their reactions can't be watered down by the social acceptability of it all.
Go trick-or-treating on May 4th, and you'll see what I mean.
The day that we're allowed to dress like freaks is arbitrary anyway. It could have been any day. It could still be any day. Fifty years from now, we might be celebrating a different holiday on a different day that celebrates wearing masks and playing dress up. We should be challenging - or at least playing around with - these human constructs. Talk to people you've never met. Introduce yourself in the elevator. Don't blend into the background of people who are awaiting permission to act oddly. Live your life based on whims. Wear a mask next week. Experience life through the eyes of someone else - real or imaginary. Be homeless for a week. Take a road trip without telling anyone. Paint a picture. Go build a house. The world is not set in stone. It's been defined, but it can be erased and redefined and redefined again.
What does this have to do with dressing appropriately inappropriate? I'm not sure. But I think it's telling that when given permission to go crazy, we usually do.
30 October 2007
The Tiger or the Tiger?
The only moral questions are the difficult ones. If the answer is obvious, it probably has little to do with ethics. After all, ethics is not designed to be exact - its meant to question your sensibilities.
You can learn some fascinating things about propaganda if you know where to look. The word gets a bad connotation, but it spreads from advertising to everyday conversation to mass-population mind control with ease. This also makes it difficult to pinpoint when its being used. And of course there are dozens of successful techniques to veer the human mind in the direction you'd like it to go.
One of my favorite stories about advertising propaganda involves Tylenol who branded a catchphrase - "Nothing is stronger than Tylenol". This, of course, is completely true because nothing is stronger than Tylenol. Nothing is weaker than Tylenol either. Since Tylenol is acetaminophen and nothing more, and since several other brand name pain relievers use the same base, everything is just about equal. But by creating a brand image of strength, people still think that Tylenol is a better pain reliever than another brand when they exactly identical products. It's not a lie. It's just misleading.
Which leads to the question of the moral compass. Let's say it's 1939, and the Nazis are rounding up Jews to send to death camps. You're hiding several in your basement, and when the Gestapo makes a pit stop at your house, they ask if you're hiding anyone. Answering 'no' is a lie. Answering 'yes' would get several people killed.
I doubt seriously that anyone sees any moral qualm with lying in this circumstance. This is an easy one - not a true moral question. Res Ipsa Loquitor (right, Hunter?).
Now, let's say that you're working at a store selling stereos and the owner wants you to pitch them by exclaiming that no other stereo brand has more decibel output. Imagine that this is not a lie, but is misleading in the same way that Tylenol is misleading. Let's say the stereos you're selling are decent, but your pitch makes them sound stronger than things that they are equal to. Let's say there's commission involved.
Is there a moral problem with knowingly misleading a stranger for personal gain? What if your manager wanted you to lie about the quality outright? Is it a small enough transgression that it won't matter?
Of course, the famous example of moral effrontery comes from Socrates' story of Gyges' Ring. The ring is an object that allows its wearer to be invisible (Tolkein mirrors this concept in The Lord of the Rings. Invisibility grants incredible power). In Socrates' myth, a shepherd finds the ring and uses it to seduce the Queen of the land and murder/dethrone the king - becoming ruler himself. The question of the ring (or of invisibility) is what you would do with it. Petty theft? Rise to power? Help humanity?
How would you act if you could walk around undetected?
This speaks again to the intangible feeling, the intrinsic value of doing the right thing. The corrupt man will strive for worldly gains and feel empty for doing it so deceptively while the virtuous man will shun immoral uses of the ring in exchange for personal well-being and a state of peace.
And what happens when the virtuous man is confronted with making a choice between two immoral actions? A moral question finally arises. What if the two actions are equitable, what if the ignoble act is as major as the positive outcome it might elicit? What if there is no right path? Once again, our society has flattened these situations into aphorism - being stuck between a rock and a hard place, choosing the lesser of two evils.
But how often do we really think, truly sacrifice to find that third road that might be a bit more narrow but worth the trek?
You can learn some fascinating things about propaganda if you know where to look. The word gets a bad connotation, but it spreads from advertising to everyday conversation to mass-population mind control with ease. This also makes it difficult to pinpoint when its being used. And of course there are dozens of successful techniques to veer the human mind in the direction you'd like it to go.
One of my favorite stories about advertising propaganda involves Tylenol who branded a catchphrase - "Nothing is stronger than Tylenol". This, of course, is completely true because nothing is stronger than Tylenol. Nothing is weaker than Tylenol either. Since Tylenol is acetaminophen and nothing more, and since several other brand name pain relievers use the same base, everything is just about equal. But by creating a brand image of strength, people still think that Tylenol is a better pain reliever than another brand when they exactly identical products. It's not a lie. It's just misleading.
Which leads to the question of the moral compass. Let's say it's 1939, and the Nazis are rounding up Jews to send to death camps. You're hiding several in your basement, and when the Gestapo makes a pit stop at your house, they ask if you're hiding anyone. Answering 'no' is a lie. Answering 'yes' would get several people killed.
I doubt seriously that anyone sees any moral qualm with lying in this circumstance. This is an easy one - not a true moral question. Res Ipsa Loquitor (right, Hunter?).
Now, let's say that you're working at a store selling stereos and the owner wants you to pitch them by exclaiming that no other stereo brand has more decibel output. Imagine that this is not a lie, but is misleading in the same way that Tylenol is misleading. Let's say the stereos you're selling are decent, but your pitch makes them sound stronger than things that they are equal to. Let's say there's commission involved.
Is there a moral problem with knowingly misleading a stranger for personal gain? What if your manager wanted you to lie about the quality outright? Is it a small enough transgression that it won't matter?
Of course, the famous example of moral effrontery comes from Socrates' story of Gyges' Ring. The ring is an object that allows its wearer to be invisible (Tolkein mirrors this concept in The Lord of the Rings. Invisibility grants incredible power). In Socrates' myth, a shepherd finds the ring and uses it to seduce the Queen of the land and murder/dethrone the king - becoming ruler himself. The question of the ring (or of invisibility) is what you would do with it. Petty theft? Rise to power? Help humanity?
How would you act if you could walk around undetected?
This speaks again to the intangible feeling, the intrinsic value of doing the right thing. The corrupt man will strive for worldly gains and feel empty for doing it so deceptively while the virtuous man will shun immoral uses of the ring in exchange for personal well-being and a state of peace.
And what happens when the virtuous man is confronted with making a choice between two immoral actions? A moral question finally arises. What if the two actions are equitable, what if the ignoble act is as major as the positive outcome it might elicit? What if there is no right path? Once again, our society has flattened these situations into aphorism - being stuck between a rock and a hard place, choosing the lesser of two evils.
But how often do we really think, truly sacrifice to find that third road that might be a bit more narrow but worth the trek?
29 October 2007
A Step Toward the Plank
When you do a basic task with the opposite hand that you're used to, it creates new neuro-pathways in your brain. You get more wrinkles. For example, try brushing your teeth with your left hand for a while, and you'll get quantitatively smarter.
I'm wondering if the same thing can't be done for your soul.
In a religious context, I'm wondering if you can make your soul glow brighter by doing things in a different way - figuring out new ways to love people, to respect them, searching in different places for God, finding yourself in uncommon waters.
I guess I'd like to look at it like a 9 to 5 job. At the end of the day, I know I'm not made for this type of work. No matter how much I enjoy doing the things that I do in the office, the monotony of coming into work in the morning and leaving in the evening, the schedule of it all, the repetition - it gets to me. I love my job, but I dislike the format.
Think about your spiritual life that way - what if even if you enjoy to the fullest every aspect of it, you feel refreshed by it, you relish in it, the fact that you have a pattern frustrated you? Isn't that sometimes the case? Even if you're meeting dynamic people and having great discussions, don't those discussions tend to flow in patterns? Doesn't it feel like you've had the same conversation before? Reliving the same moments with different people?
What fascinates me about Christian theodicy is that its an ethos that accepts (although many seem to struggle with that acceptance) of striving for a goal that is out of reach. Being Christ-like, living with a pure heart - these are things that a follower should look toward, but knows he or she will never, ever achieve.
In Genesis, and this may just be a Hebraic reading of it, God lays down laws for mankind. But throughout the Torah (and continuing into the Nevi'im and Kethubim) God's laws are like an arrow that he's shot into the distance - it only gives direction. God points off somewhere and commands to head toward it. This view contradicts the narrow alternative that God gives strict commandments. When seen as a moral homily, the story of creation and redemption really becomes about moving in the right direction, not necessarily about taking the "right path".
But it's a direction you'll walk your entire lives without reaching the arrow. I'm wondering if along the way, some experimentation on pacing, the path, and method of travel might be done to shake off the cobwebs of faith and give new perspective. I assume God wouldn't care if you did cartwheels as long as you were headed in the right direction.
What are some things that you can do differently in your spiritual life that might bring greater joy to you and your loved ones? Could it be as simple as using your left hand? And that raises another question - if we have more than one hand, and we tend to utilize one far more than the other, is there a correlative to the soul? If the soul has many faculties, isn't it possible that we only lean on one most of the time?
If this is the case, how can we stretch those other faculties and get ready for the big game?
I hope you'll appreciate that I've used over 4 different analogies to express the same basic idea. I couldn't have planned it better.
I'm wondering if the same thing can't be done for your soul.
In a religious context, I'm wondering if you can make your soul glow brighter by doing things in a different way - figuring out new ways to love people, to respect them, searching in different places for God, finding yourself in uncommon waters.
I guess I'd like to look at it like a 9 to 5 job. At the end of the day, I know I'm not made for this type of work. No matter how much I enjoy doing the things that I do in the office, the monotony of coming into work in the morning and leaving in the evening, the schedule of it all, the repetition - it gets to me. I love my job, but I dislike the format.
Think about your spiritual life that way - what if even if you enjoy to the fullest every aspect of it, you feel refreshed by it, you relish in it, the fact that you have a pattern frustrated you? Isn't that sometimes the case? Even if you're meeting dynamic people and having great discussions, don't those discussions tend to flow in patterns? Doesn't it feel like you've had the same conversation before? Reliving the same moments with different people?
What fascinates me about Christian theodicy is that its an ethos that accepts (although many seem to struggle with that acceptance) of striving for a goal that is out of reach. Being Christ-like, living with a pure heart - these are things that a follower should look toward, but knows he or she will never, ever achieve.
In Genesis, and this may just be a Hebraic reading of it, God lays down laws for mankind. But throughout the Torah (and continuing into the Nevi'im and Kethubim) God's laws are like an arrow that he's shot into the distance - it only gives direction. God points off somewhere and commands to head toward it. This view contradicts the narrow alternative that God gives strict commandments. When seen as a moral homily, the story of creation and redemption really becomes about moving in the right direction, not necessarily about taking the "right path".
But it's a direction you'll walk your entire lives without reaching the arrow. I'm wondering if along the way, some experimentation on pacing, the path, and method of travel might be done to shake off the cobwebs of faith and give new perspective. I assume God wouldn't care if you did cartwheels as long as you were headed in the right direction.
What are some things that you can do differently in your spiritual life that might bring greater joy to you and your loved ones? Could it be as simple as using your left hand? And that raises another question - if we have more than one hand, and we tend to utilize one far more than the other, is there a correlative to the soul? If the soul has many faculties, isn't it possible that we only lean on one most of the time?
If this is the case, how can we stretch those other faculties and get ready for the big game?
I hope you'll appreciate that I've used over 4 different analogies to express the same basic idea. I couldn't have planned it better.
25 October 2007
Mother Theresa be Damned
There's a story of an old woman who lived alone until the day she died. Friends came and went as they pleased and she was close with her family, but she had never married, so after they left, the house was empty. She lived a full life, experiencing incredible things and going to incredible places. When she was only 18, she made the decision not to get married because the love of her life was taken away from her to die in World War II occupied France. She never went back on that promise to herself.
There's something noble about inflexibility, but it also makes me wonder how viable it is. Can you imagine sticking to a plan your made when you were 18? Can you even remember the plans and promises you made when you were 18?
Noble choices often have no extrinsic value. In fact, they usually hinder our opportunity for potential gain. Making the "right" choice is usually one of sacrifice. Of course, it seems the only times we see these decisions being made are during movies and in books. A chivalrous hero upholding some arbitrary code of existence that has fallen out of practice in exchange for the base ways of the day. So then, nobility seems to be strict adherence to an outmoded moral code, a truth that has gone out of fashion.
But is what the woman did really that noble? She's preserving the memory of the man she loved, but is there any inherent worth in the way she's going about it? Perhaps its the importance we place on finding a partner in life that frustrates the situation. Perhaps we cannot see ourselves doing the same thing - ending a quest for love because you've already found it and lost it. If her love had just moved away or decided to break up with her. Would we still consider her decision to stop looking for love once she found it noble?
The underlying question is one of why we give. Noble acts are defined by giving something up in exchange for an intangible - when a city worker found a sack with $65,000 in it last week, it made the news because she returned it (it had fallen off a bank truck) without even thinking about keeping it. It was the right thing to do. She traded monetary gain for something. But what is that something? Karma? A good feeling? The frustrating thing for most when dealing with the noble act, is that the gain is something intrinsic. It is something that that woman will never be able to put into words for another human being. She can't wear it or drive it or live in it or flaunt it, but she has it, and she knows what it is.
I think lately, I've been dying to know what it is.
There's something noble about inflexibility, but it also makes me wonder how viable it is. Can you imagine sticking to a plan your made when you were 18? Can you even remember the plans and promises you made when you were 18?
Noble choices often have no extrinsic value. In fact, they usually hinder our opportunity for potential gain. Making the "right" choice is usually one of sacrifice. Of course, it seems the only times we see these decisions being made are during movies and in books. A chivalrous hero upholding some arbitrary code of existence that has fallen out of practice in exchange for the base ways of the day. So then, nobility seems to be strict adherence to an outmoded moral code, a truth that has gone out of fashion.
But is what the woman did really that noble? She's preserving the memory of the man she loved, but is there any inherent worth in the way she's going about it? Perhaps its the importance we place on finding a partner in life that frustrates the situation. Perhaps we cannot see ourselves doing the same thing - ending a quest for love because you've already found it and lost it. If her love had just moved away or decided to break up with her. Would we still consider her decision to stop looking for love once she found it noble?
The underlying question is one of why we give. Noble acts are defined by giving something up in exchange for an intangible - when a city worker found a sack with $65,000 in it last week, it made the news because she returned it (it had fallen off a bank truck) without even thinking about keeping it. It was the right thing to do. She traded monetary gain for something. But what is that something? Karma? A good feeling? The frustrating thing for most when dealing with the noble act, is that the gain is something intrinsic. It is something that that woman will never be able to put into words for another human being. She can't wear it or drive it or live in it or flaunt it, but she has it, and she knows what it is.
I think lately, I've been dying to know what it is.
23 October 2007
Off the Grid
Last night I got to listen to my outgoing voice mail message for the first time ever. I didn't even realize I had one, because a few year's ago I switched to the robotic voice blithely spouting out my number and informing listeners to record something sweet and meaningful after the tone. I was under the impression that I'd never recorded a new one.
However, after making fun of a friend of mine for sounding like he sold out - a punk rocker with the most polite message you've ever heard - he turned the comment back around on me.
So I listened to it.
I sound like a tool.
So one of many goals that we've made for each other this week is to change our voice mail message. I'm not sure that it has to be a radical change, but it needs to be one that moves away from sounding so tool-ish. Some of my friends would say that's impossible for me. I'm open to suggestions.
At the core of it is a need to change something very small, something very basic that is also a cornerstone in my life. Think about how many people hear that message a day - how many people from friends to strangers that have heard that voice and made a decision based on it. It is something small, but it's also a way that we represent ourselves - putting our best electronic foot forward. For the time being, I have what would be considered a very good message, calm, polite, professional sounding - but this is not who I want to be. I want to be myself, even for a small moment in time that is replayed over and over again during the day.
I remember noting the change to adult-hood with many of my friends as the days when their phone messages changed. The excuses were simple - awaiting calls from med schools, from Law programs, from potential clients, from colleagues now in the work force, from an interview with a major company.
Whatever the case, "Do what the lady says" followed by that ever-present electronic female informing me that in order to leave a voice mail, I needed to press 1 - was replaced by "Hi. You've reached James. I'm not here to answer your call, but if you leave a message, I'd be happy to get back to you as soon as possible."
And what's worse - we all have the same basic message. You've reached us. I'm unavailable. I can't get to my phone right now. I'm away from my phone. Please leave a detailed message. Leave your name and phone number. I'd be glad to get back to you. I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Have a great day. Hope you're doing well. Take care.
With so much monotony, is there any reason to have a message in the first place?
However, after making fun of a friend of mine for sounding like he sold out - a punk rocker with the most polite message you've ever heard - he turned the comment back around on me.
So I listened to it.
I sound like a tool.
So one of many goals that we've made for each other this week is to change our voice mail message. I'm not sure that it has to be a radical change, but it needs to be one that moves away from sounding so tool-ish. Some of my friends would say that's impossible for me. I'm open to suggestions.
At the core of it is a need to change something very small, something very basic that is also a cornerstone in my life. Think about how many people hear that message a day - how many people from friends to strangers that have heard that voice and made a decision based on it. It is something small, but it's also a way that we represent ourselves - putting our best electronic foot forward. For the time being, I have what would be considered a very good message, calm, polite, professional sounding - but this is not who I want to be. I want to be myself, even for a small moment in time that is replayed over and over again during the day.
I remember noting the change to adult-hood with many of my friends as the days when their phone messages changed. The excuses were simple - awaiting calls from med schools, from Law programs, from potential clients, from colleagues now in the work force, from an interview with a major company.
Whatever the case, "Do what the lady says" followed by that ever-present electronic female informing me that in order to leave a voice mail, I needed to press 1 - was replaced by "Hi. You've reached James. I'm not here to answer your call, but if you leave a message, I'd be happy to get back to you as soon as possible."
And what's worse - we all have the same basic message. You've reached us. I'm unavailable. I can't get to my phone right now. I'm away from my phone. Please leave a detailed message. Leave your name and phone number. I'd be glad to get back to you. I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Have a great day. Hope you're doing well. Take care.
With so much monotony, is there any reason to have a message in the first place?
19 October 2007
There's Something about Mary
This is a revolution of the mind.
The two sides are pretty easy to describe: Naturalists believe that there are only natural things in existence. They seek to explain all of life's mysteries, using only what is in the physical world. Non-naturalists believe that the world's mysteries can only be explained through non-natural entities, supernatural entities like God, parallel universes, Forms, Universals, etc. They believe in things outside the system.
The two main problems are easy to describe: Naturalists have trouble explaining things using only natural entities. Non-naturalists have explained these things, but now must explain the supernatural entities, which is another huge problem.
I'm revisiting a thesis I wrote concerning a brilliant philosopher named Frank Jackson and a troubling scenario that he puts forth. I say troubling, because it causes further difficult for the Naturalists. And it's brilliant.
(A quick sidenote: Jackson is arguing against physicalism - a system that claims there are no kinds of things other than physical things.)
"Mary is confined to a black and white room, is educated through black and white books and through lectures relayed on black and white television. In this way she learns everything there is to know about the physical nature of the world. She knows all the physical facts about us and our environment, in a wide sense of 'physical' which includes everything in completed physics, chemistry and neurophysiology, and all there is to know about the causal and relational facts consequent upon all this, including of course functional roles." (Jackson 291)
Mary knows ALL physical facts about the universe. Yet she's only seen in black and white.
One day, Mary is released from her room and set free to walk down a garden path outside. For the first time in her life, she sees color. She sees a red flower - taking in for the first time the concept of Red.
Now, if physicalism is true, then Mary knew everything there is to know inside the room. But when she's let out, she learns something. There must be some knowledge beyond physical facts.
Knowing how the eye perceives light and how the brain translates this as a color is not the same as knowing what it's like to see Red.
After gaining total physical knowledge, there's still something else to learn.
This is a major problem for Naturalism.
The problem, simply stated is this:
Mary knows all physical facts.
Mary learns something new.
There must be facts that are non-physical.
Don't think too hard over the weekend.
The two sides are pretty easy to describe: Naturalists believe that there are only natural things in existence. They seek to explain all of life's mysteries, using only what is in the physical world. Non-naturalists believe that the world's mysteries can only be explained through non-natural entities, supernatural entities like God, parallel universes, Forms, Universals, etc. They believe in things outside the system.
The two main problems are easy to describe: Naturalists have trouble explaining things using only natural entities. Non-naturalists have explained these things, but now must explain the supernatural entities, which is another huge problem.
I'm revisiting a thesis I wrote concerning a brilliant philosopher named Frank Jackson and a troubling scenario that he puts forth. I say troubling, because it causes further difficult for the Naturalists. And it's brilliant.
(A quick sidenote: Jackson is arguing against physicalism - a system that claims there are no kinds of things other than physical things.)
"Mary is confined to a black and white room, is educated through black and white books and through lectures relayed on black and white television. In this way she learns everything there is to know about the physical nature of the world. She knows all the physical facts about us and our environment, in a wide sense of 'physical' which includes everything in completed physics, chemistry and neurophysiology, and all there is to know about the causal and relational facts consequent upon all this, including of course functional roles." (Jackson 291)
Mary knows ALL physical facts about the universe. Yet she's only seen in black and white.
One day, Mary is released from her room and set free to walk down a garden path outside. For the first time in her life, she sees color. She sees a red flower - taking in for the first time the concept of Red.
Now, if physicalism is true, then Mary knew everything there is to know inside the room. But when she's let out, she learns something. There must be some knowledge beyond physical facts.
Knowing how the eye perceives light and how the brain translates this as a color is not the same as knowing what it's like to see Red.
After gaining total physical knowledge, there's still something else to learn.
This is a major problem for Naturalism.
The problem, simply stated is this:
Mary knows all physical facts.
Mary learns something new.
There must be facts that are non-physical.
Don't think too hard over the weekend.
18 October 2007
Don't Forget your Towel
If a train were out of control, speeding down the track toward five people stuck on it, and you had a lever that could send the train down another set of tracks at a junction, would you pull it?
This is the opening question of a series of questions meant to baffle our moral sensibilities. I heard it a couple of weeks ago from one of the students at the forum who was taking a medical ethics class. I've never been a huge fan of ethics - it so often devolves into the unprovable. What's more, the philosophers involved usually write with such an air of stubborn correctness that it's almost laughable that they might truly believe there was no other way to think about the issue of what Good is.
The "correct" answer for the first question is, yes. There are some hypotheticals that could draw that into question, but answering yes leads you to the next question.
What if there was a person stuck on the other set of tracks? Pulling the lever would kill that one person. So, do you leave it and let it kill five or pull it and let it kill one?
This is a bit trickier because our mind is flustered by the prospect of losing human life - albeit imaginary people. We don't want to lose anyone, especially having to make the choice on who lives and dies. Most people, I would wager, answer that they would still pull the lever because saving five is better than saving one.
Now, the last question, and whoever came up with this must have thought themselves fairly clever -
What if the situation was in a hospital? You're a doctor with five patients who need transplants or they will die. A patient comes in with compatible organs. Do you let him die to save the others?
Supposedly, this should make you rethink your answer to the second question - is going purely on numbers correct? It doesn't seem ethical to allow that person in the hospital to die to save others, why would it be ethical on the train track?
The answer is, because the hypothetical situation is a bad one.
The best hypothetical situations are simple. That's what makes the game Would You Rather so perfect. There's little room for error. A decision must be made - it can be debated forever because the premise is so airtight. The author of this particular problem, did not receive that memo. It's long. And the worst part about it, is that it sets up a false correlation.
I assume the author would argue that it doesn't, having probably tricked plenty of students into thinking with it, and I imagine no one from the medial ethics class even noted the problem since the student that re-vocalized it seemed so enthusiastic.
(On a side note, the other reason I hate stuff like this is because it's almost always said with a wink, as if the professor or whoever is delighting in tricking you. There seems to be a definite "gotcha!" moment involved that seems a little more self-serving than to be genuine. Essentially, it seems to highlight the teller more than the story. Plus, it's just intellectually lazy.)
The problem with the correlation between the train tracks and the hospital is that one is an active choice and the other is passive. In the train scenario, death is headed for both groups, but it can only hit one. In the hospital, death is only headed for one group - the group of five - the single person coming in might not die, and in fact, if certain death was facing that person, there would be no moral quandary. You'd simply do your best to save him, knowing that he'll die, and then use his organs. But, since the guy could just have a simple, treatable illness, you would have to make an active choice to kill him to get his organs.
In one, the train is the killer - you just have the terrible power of passively manipulating it. In the other, you're the killer. You have to make an active choice to sacrifice someone for others.
So it's a bad analogy. I'm not sure why stuff like that bothers me - probably because people continue to pass it down as knowledge without realizing how silly it is. In the end, it isn't even a good enough situation to cause critical thought.
In a diner at the end of the universe, however, there's a great question. From the Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy series, Doug Adams created an incredibly great ethical question.
A vegetarian - choosing not to eat meat because of ethical objections - is eating at a diner at the end of the universe. The special for the day is pork, a very special kind of special, because its made from pigs that were biologically created to want nothing more in life than to be eaten. These pigs are born with the goal of being eaten and would desire nothing less. Since the pig wants to be eaten, the diner would be fulfilling its wishes, so the ethical qualm of eating meat is completely sidestepped.
"The Pig that Wants to be Eaten" is a great question because of its simplicity. Without set up, you could ask, 'is it alright to eat an animal that wants to be eaten?'
It's a good question.
This is the opening question of a series of questions meant to baffle our moral sensibilities. I heard it a couple of weeks ago from one of the students at the forum who was taking a medical ethics class. I've never been a huge fan of ethics - it so often devolves into the unprovable. What's more, the philosophers involved usually write with such an air of stubborn correctness that it's almost laughable that they might truly believe there was no other way to think about the issue of what Good is.
The "correct" answer for the first question is, yes. There are some hypotheticals that could draw that into question, but answering yes leads you to the next question.
What if there was a person stuck on the other set of tracks? Pulling the lever would kill that one person. So, do you leave it and let it kill five or pull it and let it kill one?
This is a bit trickier because our mind is flustered by the prospect of losing human life - albeit imaginary people. We don't want to lose anyone, especially having to make the choice on who lives and dies. Most people, I would wager, answer that they would still pull the lever because saving five is better than saving one.
Now, the last question, and whoever came up with this must have thought themselves fairly clever -
What if the situation was in a hospital? You're a doctor with five patients who need transplants or they will die. A patient comes in with compatible organs. Do you let him die to save the others?
Supposedly, this should make you rethink your answer to the second question - is going purely on numbers correct? It doesn't seem ethical to allow that person in the hospital to die to save others, why would it be ethical on the train track?
The answer is, because the hypothetical situation is a bad one.
The best hypothetical situations are simple. That's what makes the game Would You Rather so perfect. There's little room for error. A decision must be made - it can be debated forever because the premise is so airtight. The author of this particular problem, did not receive that memo. It's long. And the worst part about it, is that it sets up a false correlation.
I assume the author would argue that it doesn't, having probably tricked plenty of students into thinking with it, and I imagine no one from the medial ethics class even noted the problem since the student that re-vocalized it seemed so enthusiastic.
(On a side note, the other reason I hate stuff like this is because it's almost always said with a wink, as if the professor or whoever is delighting in tricking you. There seems to be a definite "gotcha!" moment involved that seems a little more self-serving than to be genuine. Essentially, it seems to highlight the teller more than the story. Plus, it's just intellectually lazy.)
The problem with the correlation between the train tracks and the hospital is that one is an active choice and the other is passive. In the train scenario, death is headed for both groups, but it can only hit one. In the hospital, death is only headed for one group - the group of five - the single person coming in might not die, and in fact, if certain death was facing that person, there would be no moral quandary. You'd simply do your best to save him, knowing that he'll die, and then use his organs. But, since the guy could just have a simple, treatable illness, you would have to make an active choice to kill him to get his organs.
In one, the train is the killer - you just have the terrible power of passively manipulating it. In the other, you're the killer. You have to make an active choice to sacrifice someone for others.
So it's a bad analogy. I'm not sure why stuff like that bothers me - probably because people continue to pass it down as knowledge without realizing how silly it is. In the end, it isn't even a good enough situation to cause critical thought.
In a diner at the end of the universe, however, there's a great question. From the Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy series, Doug Adams created an incredibly great ethical question.
A vegetarian - choosing not to eat meat because of ethical objections - is eating at a diner at the end of the universe. The special for the day is pork, a very special kind of special, because its made from pigs that were biologically created to want nothing more in life than to be eaten. These pigs are born with the goal of being eaten and would desire nothing less. Since the pig wants to be eaten, the diner would be fulfilling its wishes, so the ethical qualm of eating meat is completely sidestepped.
"The Pig that Wants to be Eaten" is a great question because of its simplicity. Without set up, you could ask, 'is it alright to eat an animal that wants to be eaten?'
It's a good question.
17 October 2007
A Transitive Property
Another change of perspective.
I'm a huge fan of shifting focus in order to gain insight. Taking a different side to see if its worth taking. I think that's why I don't get up in arms when I meet someone that disagrees with me. For most people, at least people militant in their beliefs, the main question upon meeting a dissenter is how someone could possibly feel differently. As if people don't have different life experiences or biases that lead them to certain, differing opinions. That it's so unfathomable that someone would see things in a different light. Once you get over the fact that people think in different modes, things get a lot easier.
In Hollywood, there's a sage piece of advice that gets thrown around to those fortunate enough to hear it. With an environment of chaos and competition, Hollywood sells a dream of fulfilling your passion while shoving its boot into your throat. Yes, it's that bad. Sometimes.
The key to it is sheer numbers. Millions move out there specifically for one job market. Cities like this exist - Midland/Odessa, TX for oil, DC for politics, but they are slowly evaporating - perhaps even Hollywood is. The point is that not only does everyone not make it out there, the vast majority don't. It's a lottery system. A few get it all while the masses get nothing.
The advice I was so lucky to receive involves purpose. People go to LA with a purpose - to write, produce, direct, act, design art, design costumes, create musical scores, etc. Unfortunately, since no one is handed the key to the city and pointed in the direction of the nearest studio where they can claim their dream job upon moving in, people end working at Starbucks, restaurants, delivery services, as costumed heroes and princesses on Hollywood Blvd. outside Graumann's Theatre, etc. These jobs are pointless - they keep you in LA, but no where closer to your goal.
The real key is to get a job that's tangential to your ultimate goal. The golden example of entry level work for almost anyone (except actors) is as a production assistant. Long hours (12-16), low pay (free - 125 per day), and you're at the bottom of the totem pole, constantly told what to do. You aren't allowed to sit because it looks bad. You have to constantly be ready to work at a moment's notice. And you better hustle, but, like a friend of mine once said, "At least you're on the totem pole."
Here's the advice: When you have a plan A and a plan B, you should make your Plan B, your Plan A.
Switch perspectives.
If you came out to Los Angeles to write and ended up being a production assistant, you should stop making writing the focus and start making your assistant job the focus. Counter-intuitive? Perhaps. But most great advice is.
People usually get nowhere just focusing on their art. You have to be incredibly talented, tenacious and after all that, have to rely on someone else being able to recognize those traits and take a chance on you. As a low-level assistant, there is nothing to lose. After I started focusing more on my assistant work, I got more jobs, made more connections and eventually became a production coordinator. Then, I was telling assistants what to do on set. What's even more - the connections I made started becoming interested in me - why was I out there? What did I want to do? People realize that being a production assistant isn't the dream, so they ask you what yours is.
Now, after making my Plan B my Plan A, I have a few great friendships with some incredible people out in Los Angeles. Had I stayed out there, I would working just about as steadily as one can and well on my way to climbing toward my goal. See, most people don't know how to head toward their goal because they don't know how to take the first step. Exchanging for your Plan B for your Plan A is that first step.
I bring this up because someone reminded me of it yesterday and I've been thinking about whether it can be applied to relationships or other goals. I wonder this, because I claimed it could.
Let's say for instance that your Plan A is to get a girl to like you, to become her boyfriend. Would Hollywood's advice work here? Could you focus on something other than making her your girlfriend in order to make her your girlfriend? Perhaps becoming her friend or just getting to know her better?
What if your plan was to make a friend? Learn how to change a tire? Become a diplomat? Start a co-op? Become healthier?
I understand that this advice is not universal, but I'm starting to question how far flung it can go. I know it's not for everything, but I'm sure it can't just be for Hollywood. What are some situations where switching your focus could help you attain your goal in the longer run?
Also, I couldn't help but think that if B.A. Baracus of TV's "The A Team" followed this advice, he'd become A. B. Abrbcus of TV's "The B Team".
I'm really sorry.
I'm a huge fan of shifting focus in order to gain insight. Taking a different side to see if its worth taking. I think that's why I don't get up in arms when I meet someone that disagrees with me. For most people, at least people militant in their beliefs, the main question upon meeting a dissenter is how someone could possibly feel differently. As if people don't have different life experiences or biases that lead them to certain, differing opinions. That it's so unfathomable that someone would see things in a different light. Once you get over the fact that people think in different modes, things get a lot easier.
In Hollywood, there's a sage piece of advice that gets thrown around to those fortunate enough to hear it. With an environment of chaos and competition, Hollywood sells a dream of fulfilling your passion while shoving its boot into your throat. Yes, it's that bad. Sometimes.
The key to it is sheer numbers. Millions move out there specifically for one job market. Cities like this exist - Midland/Odessa, TX for oil, DC for politics, but they are slowly evaporating - perhaps even Hollywood is. The point is that not only does everyone not make it out there, the vast majority don't. It's a lottery system. A few get it all while the masses get nothing.
The advice I was so lucky to receive involves purpose. People go to LA with a purpose - to write, produce, direct, act, design art, design costumes, create musical scores, etc. Unfortunately, since no one is handed the key to the city and pointed in the direction of the nearest studio where they can claim their dream job upon moving in, people end working at Starbucks, restaurants, delivery services, as costumed heroes and princesses on Hollywood Blvd. outside Graumann's Theatre, etc. These jobs are pointless - they keep you in LA, but no where closer to your goal.
The real key is to get a job that's tangential to your ultimate goal. The golden example of entry level work for almost anyone (except actors) is as a production assistant. Long hours (12-16), low pay (free - 125 per day), and you're at the bottom of the totem pole, constantly told what to do. You aren't allowed to sit because it looks bad. You have to constantly be ready to work at a moment's notice. And you better hustle, but, like a friend of mine once said, "At least you're on the totem pole."
Here's the advice: When you have a plan A and a plan B, you should make your Plan B, your Plan A.
Switch perspectives.
If you came out to Los Angeles to write and ended up being a production assistant, you should stop making writing the focus and start making your assistant job the focus. Counter-intuitive? Perhaps. But most great advice is.
People usually get nowhere just focusing on their art. You have to be incredibly talented, tenacious and after all that, have to rely on someone else being able to recognize those traits and take a chance on you. As a low-level assistant, there is nothing to lose. After I started focusing more on my assistant work, I got more jobs, made more connections and eventually became a production coordinator. Then, I was telling assistants what to do on set. What's even more - the connections I made started becoming interested in me - why was I out there? What did I want to do? People realize that being a production assistant isn't the dream, so they ask you what yours is.
Now, after making my Plan B my Plan A, I have a few great friendships with some incredible people out in Los Angeles. Had I stayed out there, I would working just about as steadily as one can and well on my way to climbing toward my goal. See, most people don't know how to head toward their goal because they don't know how to take the first step. Exchanging for your Plan B for your Plan A is that first step.
I bring this up because someone reminded me of it yesterday and I've been thinking about whether it can be applied to relationships or other goals. I wonder this, because I claimed it could.
Let's say for instance that your Plan A is to get a girl to like you, to become her boyfriend. Would Hollywood's advice work here? Could you focus on something other than making her your girlfriend in order to make her your girlfriend? Perhaps becoming her friend or just getting to know her better?
What if your plan was to make a friend? Learn how to change a tire? Become a diplomat? Start a co-op? Become healthier?
I understand that this advice is not universal, but I'm starting to question how far flung it can go. I know it's not for everything, but I'm sure it can't just be for Hollywood. What are some situations where switching your focus could help you attain your goal in the longer run?
Also, I couldn't help but think that if B.A. Baracus of TV's "The A Team" followed this advice, he'd become A. B. Abrbcus of TV's "The B Team".
I'm really sorry.
The Road Back from Canterbury
Back to Anselm.
So we left off with St. Anselm proving God's existence by showing that if God is the greatest of all things, and it's greater to exist in reality than just in the mind, then God must exist in reality outside of the mind.
It's flawless, which is probably why it's so absolutely wrong. There are scores of reasons that people come up with for why this doesn't work. I've come up with a few that I'm sure are written down somewhere by smarter men and women than I. Hopefully, you thought of a couple yourself, although there's something funny about Christians trying to prove why an argument for God is bad.
1) Man does not preempt God. This argument seems to weigh heavily on man's ability to imagine a being greater than all others. While this is possible, man's mind should not be the catalyst for the existence of God. This seems to be a fundamental flaw in trying to prove God's existence through logic in the first place. One cannot simply wish something into existence.
2) The imagination of a perfect being is not necessarily possible. Anselm believes that man can easily imagine a perfect being - yet what does this look like? To ask 100 people what a perfect being would be would garner 100 different answers. Anselm points to our ability to imagine perfection as a reason for proving God, yet it is more so the case that we know what "good" is and can therefore think in degrees of goodness. If we can imagine good, we can imagine better than good, and the best good.
3) Anselm is correct, but not about God. I actually agree with the entirety of the argument. I think the frustrating thing about it is that it's so clean that people have trouble finding flaws with it. I see no flaws for what it is - if we replace the word God with X. Anselm has proven that X exists - a being that is greater than all other beings. Most of you don't really know what I believe in or the dynamics of my belief, but they fall in line perfectly with Anselm's argument of a higher power. In the simplest terms, I'm a monist - I believe that the universe is made up of one object that is constantly reacting with itself along the lines of existing natural laws. Things unfold as the should because they must. You could also call me a pantheist - God living inside nature (not nature as in the trees and lakes, but nature as in all things). As a monist, if God exists, and there is only one object in existence, then God is that object and we are as well.
Anselm proves that there exists a thing greater than all others. But isn't that obvious? Isn't it clear that if there is a good, that there must be an exemplar of that Good? The best? The greatest? Even if it is obvious, Anselm does a great service in logically pointing out why it should be so - sometimes the most obvious things are the hardest to prove logically.
He certainly does it with a religious tilt, but his argument can be used to bolster pretty much any religion or no religion at all. At the root, it confirms that there is something in the natural world (or supernatural for Anselm) that exists that is greater than all other things. When read to the nth degree, it becomes an argument for a creative being that started the whole mess. So, perhaps the greatest flaw in Anselm's thinking is his projection of his own faith onto reason.
In your face, 11th century Archbishop and founder of scholasticism!
So we left off with St. Anselm proving God's existence by showing that if God is the greatest of all things, and it's greater to exist in reality than just in the mind, then God must exist in reality outside of the mind.
It's flawless, which is probably why it's so absolutely wrong. There are scores of reasons that people come up with for why this doesn't work. I've come up with a few that I'm sure are written down somewhere by smarter men and women than I. Hopefully, you thought of a couple yourself, although there's something funny about Christians trying to prove why an argument for God is bad.
1) Man does not preempt God. This argument seems to weigh heavily on man's ability to imagine a being greater than all others. While this is possible, man's mind should not be the catalyst for the existence of God. This seems to be a fundamental flaw in trying to prove God's existence through logic in the first place. One cannot simply wish something into existence.
2) The imagination of a perfect being is not necessarily possible. Anselm believes that man can easily imagine a perfect being - yet what does this look like? To ask 100 people what a perfect being would be would garner 100 different answers. Anselm points to our ability to imagine perfection as a reason for proving God, yet it is more so the case that we know what "good" is and can therefore think in degrees of goodness. If we can imagine good, we can imagine better than good, and the best good.
3) Anselm is correct, but not about God. I actually agree with the entirety of the argument. I think the frustrating thing about it is that it's so clean that people have trouble finding flaws with it. I see no flaws for what it is - if we replace the word God with X. Anselm has proven that X exists - a being that is greater than all other beings. Most of you don't really know what I believe in or the dynamics of my belief, but they fall in line perfectly with Anselm's argument of a higher power. In the simplest terms, I'm a monist - I believe that the universe is made up of one object that is constantly reacting with itself along the lines of existing natural laws. Things unfold as the should because they must. You could also call me a pantheist - God living inside nature (not nature as in the trees and lakes, but nature as in all things). As a monist, if God exists, and there is only one object in existence, then God is that object and we are as well.
Anselm proves that there exists a thing greater than all others. But isn't that obvious? Isn't it clear that if there is a good, that there must be an exemplar of that Good? The best? The greatest? Even if it is obvious, Anselm does a great service in logically pointing out why it should be so - sometimes the most obvious things are the hardest to prove logically.
He certainly does it with a religious tilt, but his argument can be used to bolster pretty much any religion or no religion at all. At the root, it confirms that there is something in the natural world (or supernatural for Anselm) that exists that is greater than all other things. When read to the nth degree, it becomes an argument for a creative being that started the whole mess. So, perhaps the greatest flaw in Anselm's thinking is his projection of his own faith onto reason.
In your face, 11th century Archbishop and founder of scholasticism!
16 October 2007
What a World. What a World.
Sometimes I just can't figure out this thing.
It took someone asking me how my weekend was for me to realize that it was bizarre and fleeting. It was intense, and the range of emotive responses that I undertook are surprising considering that they barely crossed my mind at the time. Perhaps I blocked the weekend out because it was too much to deal with.
On Friday, I escaped work and couldn't get a hold of anyone to do anything with so I settled for an evening walk and a $50 meal at a cafe on Lincoln Park. Four-spice duck and a pan-seared white truffle followed by the best tiramisu I've ever had. It was calming, and it was the first time I'd ever spent that much without caring. I just let go. I went from a three star restaurant, clinking forks and knives against plates with lawyers and business executives all made out of ticky-tacky, to watching Knocked Up. It was a decidedly, bi-class night.
Saturday, I had lunch with Emily which was really eye-opening and fun. We ate, walked around the harbor talking and I tried to figure out how to break into really nice looking older buildings. I got home to find my friend Marco wanted to meet up with me, so I walked the mile to the metro so I could talk to Kimsey - always excellent - and four seconds after hanging out with her, some young kids ran past me. Another came on a bike and dropped it right at the metro. Another scrambled onto it and took off. Then the cop cars showed up. I was riding the escalator down when a bike-cop had a teenager on the ground putting him in handcuffs. I have no idea why.
Taking the metro to the capitol, Marco decided he wanted to eat so we walked back to, you guessed it, Eastern Market and rolled into this nice cuban place that did Ropa Vieja nearly perfectly. Marco lived in a commune at Stanford where there was a lot of comfortable nudity and socialism. Our conversation was quite different than the ones I had with Emily or Kimsey. I adapted. We then went from calm dinner, to deciding we'd start a band together, to going to a house warming party that was part suave sophisticates and part fridge-full-of-beer. I ducked out after a few free beers and headed home, finally getting to talk to my friend Dave whom I've been missing lately.
Sunday morning, I had a soccer game that turned really ugly. The ref was frantic, barely knew what she was doing, and it resulted in a lot of bad calls. Two or our players got yellow cards. We had to restrain one guy from talking to her. She exhibited that nervous stature of someone whose authority only derives from authority. The yellow cards in her back pocket and whistle were not enough to prove that she could judge a match, and it showed. I also went from cloud nine when assisting a goal to almost dying of dehydration on the field. We won - and what should have been celebratory was tarnished by anger and bitterness.
I meant to get a lot done yesterday, but instead I crashed when I got home. I woke up disoriented in the evening, decided to get groceries and spent from 10 - 11pm there. There is nothing more satisfying that getting groceries. Having a full kitchen is an incredibly relaxing feeling, and I was able to go to sleep around 2am feeling really relaxed.
This ended at 5:30am when I got a call from my ex-girlfriend informing me that her dog had broken her other front leg, and the vet is suggesting that she be put to sleep.
I'm still trying to process this.
I've been first class, low class, pleasantly surprised, exhausted, liberated, responsible, irresponsible, victorious, angry, calm, and heart broken.
While I was writing this, a coworker asked how my weekend was, and I just said, "Fine."
I'm afraid this was more journal-like than usual, but I feel like there's a lesson in here somewhere, one that doesn't need to be drawn out. One that I don't have to go into much detail beyond what's there in the history books. One that reminds me that I'm never quite going to get the hang of this thing.
It took someone asking me how my weekend was for me to realize that it was bizarre and fleeting. It was intense, and the range of emotive responses that I undertook are surprising considering that they barely crossed my mind at the time. Perhaps I blocked the weekend out because it was too much to deal with.
On Friday, I escaped work and couldn't get a hold of anyone to do anything with so I settled for an evening walk and a $50 meal at a cafe on Lincoln Park. Four-spice duck and a pan-seared white truffle followed by the best tiramisu I've ever had. It was calming, and it was the first time I'd ever spent that much without caring. I just let go. I went from a three star restaurant, clinking forks and knives against plates with lawyers and business executives all made out of ticky-tacky, to watching Knocked Up. It was a decidedly, bi-class night.
Saturday, I had lunch with Emily which was really eye-opening and fun. We ate, walked around the harbor talking and I tried to figure out how to break into really nice looking older buildings. I got home to find my friend Marco wanted to meet up with me, so I walked the mile to the metro so I could talk to Kimsey - always excellent - and four seconds after hanging out with her, some young kids ran past me. Another came on a bike and dropped it right at the metro. Another scrambled onto it and took off. Then the cop cars showed up. I was riding the escalator down when a bike-cop had a teenager on the ground putting him in handcuffs. I have no idea why.
Taking the metro to the capitol, Marco decided he wanted to eat so we walked back to, you guessed it, Eastern Market and rolled into this nice cuban place that did Ropa Vieja nearly perfectly. Marco lived in a commune at Stanford where there was a lot of comfortable nudity and socialism. Our conversation was quite different than the ones I had with Emily or Kimsey. I adapted. We then went from calm dinner, to deciding we'd start a band together, to going to a house warming party that was part suave sophisticates and part fridge-full-of-beer. I ducked out after a few free beers and headed home, finally getting to talk to my friend Dave whom I've been missing lately.
Sunday morning, I had a soccer game that turned really ugly. The ref was frantic, barely knew what she was doing, and it resulted in a lot of bad calls. Two or our players got yellow cards. We had to restrain one guy from talking to her. She exhibited that nervous stature of someone whose authority only derives from authority. The yellow cards in her back pocket and whistle were not enough to prove that she could judge a match, and it showed. I also went from cloud nine when assisting a goal to almost dying of dehydration on the field. We won - and what should have been celebratory was tarnished by anger and bitterness.
I meant to get a lot done yesterday, but instead I crashed when I got home. I woke up disoriented in the evening, decided to get groceries and spent from 10 - 11pm there. There is nothing more satisfying that getting groceries. Having a full kitchen is an incredibly relaxing feeling, and I was able to go to sleep around 2am feeling really relaxed.
This ended at 5:30am when I got a call from my ex-girlfriend informing me that her dog had broken her other front leg, and the vet is suggesting that she be put to sleep.
I'm still trying to process this.
I've been first class, low class, pleasantly surprised, exhausted, liberated, responsible, irresponsible, victorious, angry, calm, and heart broken.
While I was writing this, a coworker asked how my weekend was, and I just said, "Fine."
I'm afraid this was more journal-like than usual, but I feel like there's a lesson in here somewhere, one that doesn't need to be drawn out. One that I don't have to go into much detail beyond what's there in the history books. One that reminds me that I'm never quite going to get the hang of this thing.
11 October 2007
Antediluvian
95% of all the media you see comes from Los Angeles.
That figure is probably a complete fabrication, but it might as well be true. It's probably fairly close. Most people don't even think about the amount of media that enters their brain everyday. We're bombarded by it, but it's become so common, that we just pass by without a second glance. A typical morning for me consists of hopping in a car to drive to the metro (listening to the radio = songs, commercials, live content; or a CD = music), walking to the metro past the signs for gas stations, CVS, etc., getting on the metro (walking past advertisements, grabbing a newspaper, listening to a recording telling me the doors are closing), exiting to Farragut (past signs, more advertisements, store fronts with placards and posters) and getting to work. I don't even have a working TV set.
The thing about media is that it's not just advertisements. That voice telling me the doors are closing on the metro - someone recorded that. It's someone's voice. An actual person somewhere with hopes and dreams and thoughts and fears. This dynamic human being stood in a recording booth and repeated "Stand back the doors are closing" until they got it just right. Now her voice is heard thousands of times a day by strangers. A copy of her is out there everyday. I wonder if she ever rides the metro.
Chuck Pahlaniuk (who you'll find I refer to a lot because he makes me think) notes a fascinating phenomenon in his book Fight Club when he mentions the laugh tracks for television shows during the 1940s and 50s. Those same laugh tracks that you hear today were recorded back then. There's been little need to update them because collective laughter all sounds the same. So, get this, when you hear an audience crack up at the latest wacky thing that the lovable sitcom star does, you're listening to the laughter of dead people.
At least a decent percentage of the people who had their laughter recorded for shows back then are now deceased, and their recorded ghost lives on.
Media has a way of flattening its subject matter. The image or sound has to serve a singular purpose. Sometimes it can serve two, but anything more than that, and the simple message of the advertisement or the mass-produced signal is lost. It becomes muddled, and large groups of people can't handle that sort of exposure. The message has to be dynamic - and that means, one message, direct, loud, clear.
Today on CNN.com there is an icon for a story on the bra turning 100. A century's worth of the invention. The icon above the story is a small picture of a woman's bust in a red bra, framing her shoulders down to her xiphoid process, and nothing more. No face. No name. Just a bra.
And yet someone posed for that photo. A human being somewhere could look at that website today, point to that picture and say, "that's me". A living, breathing human being reduced to a single message, a flattened image. She's most likely a model, but she might not be. She might be a nursing student who was helping a friend build a photography portfolio, and when the image ended up on an open source market, CNN bought the rights to it for almost zero dollars and are now using it. I wonder what that woman's like. We don't often think about the people behind the images. Movie stars are not real people in our mind. They are a blank canvas for us to project our desires onto. Girls want to be swept into Brad Pitt's arms because he's attractive, and because of this, they imagine he's also a great person. Guys fantasize about being with most actresses without knowing thing one about them.
We are now becoming those celebrities. Not in the same stature, but in the same concept. For the first time ever, a girl I've never met randomly messaged me on Facebook to tell me that she dug my musical taste. She has access to what I've posted, my pictures, but I'm flat. I'm anything she wants me to be. I'm a bulletin point of a human being. My likes and dislikes are spelled out short order, my photos do little to paint a picture of my humanity, and a few short quips from strangers does nothing to explain who I am. Yet we do this every day to people - marginalize them. We read magazines, watch television, listen to the radio - never thinking about the human behind the image or the motion or the voice.
A guy putting himself through grad school for computer science smiling in a tooth paste advertisement, a young guy from Missouri who dreams of owning his own business acts as a human clothing rack for khakis in a Sears catalogue, a girl who fears that she'll end like her mother, loves horseback riding, and crossed her fingers that this will lead to something big steps up to a microphone and says, "Thank you for shopping at Walmart. This week, you'll find incredible savings on..."
I have nothing against consumer culture. In fact, I find it fascinating. It does, however, naturally rob the people involved of their humanity, turning them into a singular statement or a blank canvas. There's nothing really harmful in this - the person is still walking around being as dynamic as ever while their image floats around attracting the eye and convincing or not convincing in a split second a person to buy a particular brand of soda. There's nothing deep or tragic or joyous going on here. Just a fun exercise in humanity. The next time you see an image of someone else, wonder who they are, ask what they might be like, question their background and their hopes and dreams and desires. Remember they are real, someone with a life as interesting as yours walking around somewhere out there.
Or next time you hear a laugh track on television, remember that who you're hearing is no longer with us.
That figure is probably a complete fabrication, but it might as well be true. It's probably fairly close. Most people don't even think about the amount of media that enters their brain everyday. We're bombarded by it, but it's become so common, that we just pass by without a second glance. A typical morning for me consists of hopping in a car to drive to the metro (listening to the radio = songs, commercials, live content; or a CD = music), walking to the metro past the signs for gas stations, CVS, etc., getting on the metro (walking past advertisements, grabbing a newspaper, listening to a recording telling me the doors are closing), exiting to Farragut (past signs, more advertisements, store fronts with placards and posters) and getting to work. I don't even have a working TV set.
The thing about media is that it's not just advertisements. That voice telling me the doors are closing on the metro - someone recorded that. It's someone's voice. An actual person somewhere with hopes and dreams and thoughts and fears. This dynamic human being stood in a recording booth and repeated "Stand back the doors are closing" until they got it just right. Now her voice is heard thousands of times a day by strangers. A copy of her is out there everyday. I wonder if she ever rides the metro.
Chuck Pahlaniuk (who you'll find I refer to a lot because he makes me think) notes a fascinating phenomenon in his book Fight Club when he mentions the laugh tracks for television shows during the 1940s and 50s. Those same laugh tracks that you hear today were recorded back then. There's been little need to update them because collective laughter all sounds the same. So, get this, when you hear an audience crack up at the latest wacky thing that the lovable sitcom star does, you're listening to the laughter of dead people.
At least a decent percentage of the people who had their laughter recorded for shows back then are now deceased, and their recorded ghost lives on.
Media has a way of flattening its subject matter. The image or sound has to serve a singular purpose. Sometimes it can serve two, but anything more than that, and the simple message of the advertisement or the mass-produced signal is lost. It becomes muddled, and large groups of people can't handle that sort of exposure. The message has to be dynamic - and that means, one message, direct, loud, clear.
Today on CNN.com there is an icon for a story on the bra turning 100. A century's worth of the invention. The icon above the story is a small picture of a woman's bust in a red bra, framing her shoulders down to her xiphoid process, and nothing more. No face. No name. Just a bra.
And yet someone posed for that photo. A human being somewhere could look at that website today, point to that picture and say, "that's me". A living, breathing human being reduced to a single message, a flattened image. She's most likely a model, but she might not be. She might be a nursing student who was helping a friend build a photography portfolio, and when the image ended up on an open source market, CNN bought the rights to it for almost zero dollars and are now using it. I wonder what that woman's like. We don't often think about the people behind the images. Movie stars are not real people in our mind. They are a blank canvas for us to project our desires onto. Girls want to be swept into Brad Pitt's arms because he's attractive, and because of this, they imagine he's also a great person. Guys fantasize about being with most actresses without knowing thing one about them.
We are now becoming those celebrities. Not in the same stature, but in the same concept. For the first time ever, a girl I've never met randomly messaged me on Facebook to tell me that she dug my musical taste. She has access to what I've posted, my pictures, but I'm flat. I'm anything she wants me to be. I'm a bulletin point of a human being. My likes and dislikes are spelled out short order, my photos do little to paint a picture of my humanity, and a few short quips from strangers does nothing to explain who I am. Yet we do this every day to people - marginalize them. We read magazines, watch television, listen to the radio - never thinking about the human behind the image or the motion or the voice.
A guy putting himself through grad school for computer science smiling in a tooth paste advertisement, a young guy from Missouri who dreams of owning his own business acts as a human clothing rack for khakis in a Sears catalogue, a girl who fears that she'll end like her mother, loves horseback riding, and crossed her fingers that this will lead to something big steps up to a microphone and says, "Thank you for shopping at Walmart. This week, you'll find incredible savings on..."
I have nothing against consumer culture. In fact, I find it fascinating. It does, however, naturally rob the people involved of their humanity, turning them into a singular statement or a blank canvas. There's nothing really harmful in this - the person is still walking around being as dynamic as ever while their image floats around attracting the eye and convincing or not convincing in a split second a person to buy a particular brand of soda. There's nothing deep or tragic or joyous going on here. Just a fun exercise in humanity. The next time you see an image of someone else, wonder who they are, ask what they might be like, question their background and their hopes and dreams and desires. Remember they are real, someone with a life as interesting as yours walking around somewhere out there.
Or next time you hear a laugh track on television, remember that who you're hearing is no longer with us.
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