Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows that the war is over
Everybody knows the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich
That’s how it goes
Everybody knows
Showing posts with label society. Show all posts
Showing posts with label society. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
happy 70th birthday Leonard Cohen
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Some things will never change
I was, however, fascinated by the article mentioning that, in stereotypical British fashion, some of the rioters were queuing up to get loot from shops.
Somehow I hadn't envisioned the Viking raiders queueing to loot the church, but I guess I may be wrong on that :)
Somehow I hadn't envisioned the Viking raiders queueing to loot the church, but I guess I may be wrong on that :)
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Credit Scoring - Satanic worship or just active evil?
Credit scores are a protection racket. Your credit scores are not accurate. Your credit scores were not designed to be accurate. It’s not that the credit rating agencies deliberately insert errors into their scores, but rather that they calculate them with a deliberate disregard for accuracy. To calculate them accurately would undermine one of the primary revenue streams of the credit rating agencies’ business model. You’ve seen the ads, you know the jingles. Credit rating agencies make money by charging a monthly fee to “allow” consumers to do their job for them. Pay a monthly fee to each of the three credit rating agencies and you will be permitted to attempt to ensure the accuracy that they cannot be bothered to attempt to ensure themselves because, if they did, then they couldn’t get you to pay them each a monthly fee.
The racket is exactly that transparent. And please note that this isn’t something I am accusing them of, this is something they explain themselves, explicitly, hundreds of times a day on the radio, on television and in advertisements all over the Internet. If you don’t pay them, they will not guarantee the accuracy of the credit score on which your ability to borrow or to purchase — or perhaps even to earn a living — depends. “Nice credit score ya got there. Shame if anything happened to it.” That’s exactly what they’re saying, brazenly, in all those ads.
(part of an excellent exposition at the Slacktivist)
The racket is exactly that transparent. And please note that this isn’t something I am accusing them of, this is something they explain themselves, explicitly, hundreds of times a day on the radio, on television and in advertisements all over the Internet. If you don’t pay them, they will not guarantee the accuracy of the credit score on which your ability to borrow or to purchase — or perhaps even to earn a living — depends. “Nice credit score ya got there. Shame if anything happened to it.” That’s exactly what they’re saying, brazenly, in all those ads.
(part of an excellent exposition at the Slacktivist)
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
America
Bottom Line: If Jesus loved you as much as He loves Donald Trump, you’d be as rich and deserving as Donald Trump. If Jesus just barely tolerates you, then suck it…
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
More random data
The effect of the black plague - English population:
By comparison, Japan's population over the same period:
By comparison, Japan's population over the same period:
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
Environmentalism, or Boy I'm glad I'll be dead before this becomes a Huger Problem
If you want to know which environmental problems America will lead on and which it will screw over the world on, I think it helps to ask whether rich people are seriously affected by the problem in question. Rich white people get skin cancer, so we took the lead on forging the Montreal Protocol to protect the ozone layer. More rich white people benefit from fossil fuels economy than will be harmed by global warming (they think) so we are screwing over the world on global warming.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Words of wisdom from an exceptional writer
I'm reposting this (12 year old- eek!) article from David Brin in entirety, so I can ensure I always can access it - I seem to refer to it at least a couple of times a year, and have to re-google for it each time, so I'm sure at some point the referents will disappear into inaccessibility. So, with apologies to the brilliant Brin:
"Star Wars" despots vs. "Star Trek" populists
Why is George Lucas peddling an elitist, anti-democratic agenda under the guise of escapist fun?
Well, I boycotted "Episode I: The Phantom Menace" -- for an entire week.
Why? What's to boycott? Isn't "Star Wars" good old fashioned sci-fi? Harmless fun? Some people call it "eye candy" -- a chance to drop back into childhood and punt your adult cares away for two hours, dwelling in a lavish universe where good and evil are vividly drawn, without all the inconvenient counterpoint distinctions that clutter daily life.
Got a problem? Cleave it with a light saber! Wouldn't you love -- just once in your life -- to dive a fast little ship into your worst enemy's stronghold and set off a chain reaction, blowing up the whole megillah from within its rotten core while you streak away to safety at the speed of light? (It's such a nifty notion that it happens in three out of four "Star Wars" flicks.)
Anyway, I make a good living writing science-fiction novels and movies. So "Star Wars" ought to be a great busman's holiday, right?
One of the problems with so-called light entertainment today is that somehow, amid all the gaudy special effects, people tend to lose track of simple things, like story and meaning. They stop noticing the moral lessons the director is trying to push. Yet these things matter.
By now it's grown clear that George Lucas has an agenda, one that he takes very seriously. After four "Star Wars" films, alarm bells should have gone off, even among those who don't look for morals in movies. When the chief feature distinguishing "good" from "evil" is how pretty the characters are, it's a clue that maybe the whole saga deserves a second look.
Just what bill of goods are we being sold, between the frames?
Above all, I never cared for the whole Nietzschian \bermensch thing: the notion -- pervading a great many myths and legends -- that a good yarn has to be about demigods who are bigger, badder and better than normal folk by several orders of magnitude. It's an ancient storytelling tradition based on abiding contempt for the masses -- one that I find odious in the works of A.E. Van Vogt, E.E. Smith, L. Ron Hubbard and wherever you witness slanlike super-beings deciding the fate of billions without ever pausing to consider their wishes.
Wow, you say. If I feel that strongly about this, why just a week-long boycott? Why see the latest "Star Wars" film at all?
Because I am forced to admit that demigod tales resonate deeply in the human heart.
Before moving on to the fun stuff, will you bear with me while we get serious for a little while?
In "The Hero With a Thousand Faces," Joseph Campbell showed how a particular, rhythmic storytelling technique was used in almost every ancient and pre-modern culture, depicting protagonists and antagonists with certain consistent motives and character traits, a pattern that transcended boundaries of language and culture. In these classic tales, the hero begins reluctant, yet signs and portents foretell his pre-ordained greatness. He receives dire warnings and sage wisdom from a mentor, acquires quirky-but-faithful companions, faces a series of steepening crises, explores the pit of his own fears and emerges triumphant to bring some boon/talisman/victory home to his admiring tribe/people/nation.
By offering valuable insights into this revered storytelling tradition, Joseph Campbell did indeed shed light on common spiritual traits that seem shared by all human beings. And I'll be the first to admit it's a superb formula -- one that I've used at times in my own stories and novels.
Alas, Campbell only highlighted positive traits, completely ignoring a much darker side -- such as how easily this standard fable-template was co-opted by kings, priests and tyrants, extolling the all-importance of elites who tower over common women and men. Or the implication that we must always adhere to variations on a single story, a single theme, repeating the same prescribed plot outline over and over again. Those who praise Joseph Campbell seem to perceive this uniformity as cause for rejoicing -- but it isn't. Playing a large part in the tragic miring of our spirit, demigod myths helped reinforce sameness and changelessness for millennia, transfixing people in nearly every culture, from Gilgamesh all the way to comic book super heroes.
It is essential to understand the radical departure taken by genuine science fiction, which comes from a diametrically opposite literary tradition -- a new kind of storytelling that often rebels against those very same archetypes Campbell venerated. An upstart belief in progress, egalitarianism, positive-sum games -- and the slim but real possibility of decent human institutions.
And a compulsive questioning of rules! Authors like Greg Bear, John Brunner, Alice Sheldon, Frederik Pohl and Philip K. Dick always looked on any prescriptive storytelling formula as a direct challenge -- a dare. This explains why science fiction has never been much welcomed at either extreme of the literary spectrum -- comic books and "high literature."
Comics treat their superheroes with reverent awe, as demigods were depicted in the Iliad. But a true science fiction author who wrote about Superman would have earthling scientists ask the handsome Man of Steel for blood samples (even if it means scraping with a super fingernail) in order to study his puissant powers, and maybe bottle them for everyone.
As for the literary elite, postmodernists despise science fiction because of the word "science," while their older colleagues -- steeped in Aristotle's "Poetics" -- find anathema the underlying assumption behind most high-quality SF: the bold assertion that there are no "eternal human verities." Things change, and change can be fascinating. Moreover, our children might outgrow us! They may become better, or learn from our mistakes and not repeat them. And if they don't learn, that could be a riveting tragedy far exceeding Aristotle's cramped and myopic definition. "On the Beach," "Soylent Green" and "1984" plumbed frightening depths. "Brave New World," "The Screwfly Solution" and "Fahrenheit 451" posed worrying questions. In contrast, "Oedipus Rex" is about as interesting as watching a hooked fish thrash futilely at the end of a line. You just want to put the poor doomed King of Thebes out of his misery -- and find a way to punish his tormentors.
This truly is a different point of view, in direct opposition to older, elitist creeds that preached passivity and awe in nearly every culture, where a storyteller's chief job was to flatter the oligarchic patrons who fed him. Imagine Achilles refusing to accept his ordained destiny, taking up his sword and hunting down the Fates, demanding that they give him both a long life and a glorious one! Picture Odysseus telling both Agamemnon and Poseidon to go chase themselves, then heading off to join Daedalus in a garage start-up company, mass producing wheeled and winged horses so that mortals could swoop about the land and air, like gods -- the way common folk do today. Even if they fail, and jealous Olympians crush them, what a tale it would be.
This storytelling style was rarely seen till a few generations ago, when aristocrats lost some of their power to punish irreverence. Even now, the new perspective remains shaky -- and many find it less romantic, too. How many dramas reflexively depict scientists as "mad"? How few modern films ever show American institutions functioning well enough to bother fixing them? No wonder George Lucas publicly yearns for the pomp of mighty kings over the drab accountability of presidents. Many share his belief that things might be a whole lot more vivid without all the endless, dreary argument and negotiating that make up such a large part of modern life.
If only someone would take command. A leader.
Some people say, why look for deep lessons in harmless, escapist entertainment?
Others earnestly hold that the moral health of a civilization can be traced in its popular culture.
In the modern era, we tend to feel ideas aren't inherently toxic. Yet who can deny that people -- especially children -- will be swayed if a message is repeated often enough? It's when a "lesson" gets reiterated relentlessly that even skeptics should sit up and take notice.
The moral messages in "Star Wars" aren't just window dressing. Speeches and lectures drench every film. They represent an agenda.
Can we learn more about the "Star Wars" worldview by comparing George Lucas' space-adventure epic to its chief competitor -- "Star Trek?"
The differences at first seem superficial. One saga has an air force motif (tiny fighters) while the other appears naval. In "Star Trek," the big ship is heroic and the cooperative effort required to maintain it is depicted as honorable. Indeed, "Star Trek" sees technology as useful and essentially friendly -- if at times also dangerous. Education is a great emancipator of the humble (e.g. Starfleet Academy). Futuristic institutions are basically good-natured (the Federation), though of course one must fight outbreaks of incompetence and corruption. Professionalism is respected, lesser characters make a difference and henchmen often become brave whistle-blowers -- as they do in America today.
In "Star Trek," when authorities are defied, it is in order to overcome their mistakes or expose particular villains, not to portray all institutions as inherently hopeless. Good cops sometimes come when you call for help. Ironically, this image fosters useful criticism of authority, because it suggests that any of us can gain access to our flawed institutions, if we are determined enough -- and perhaps even fix them with fierce tools of citizenship.
By contrast, the oppressed "rebels" in "Star Wars" have no recourse in law or markets or science or democracy. They can only choose sides in a civil war between two wings of the same genetically superior royal family. They may not meddle or criticize. As Homeric spear-carriers, it's not their job.
In teaching us how to distinguish good from evil, Lucas prescribes judging by looks: Villains wear Nazi helmets. They hiss and leer, or have red-glowing eyes, like in a Ralph Bakshi cartoon. On the other hand, "Star Trek" tales often warn against judging a book by its cover -- a message you'll also find in the films of Steven Spielberg, whose spunky everyman characters delight in reversing expectations and asking irksome questions.
Above all, "Star Trek" generally depicts heroes who are only about 10 times as brilliant, noble and heroic as a normal person, prevailing through cooperation and wit, rather than because of some inherited godlike transcendent greatness. Characters who do achieve godlike powers are subjected to ruthless scrutiny. In other words, "Trek" is a prototypically American dream, entranced by notions of human improvement and a progress that lifts all. Gene Roddenberry's vision loves heroes, but it breaks away from the elitist tradition of princes and wizards who rule by divine or mystical right.
By contrast, these are the only heroes in the "Star Wars" universe.
Yes, "Trek" can at times seem preachy, or turgidly politically correct. For example, every species has to mate with every other one, interbreeding with almost compulsive abandon. The only male heroes who are allowed any testosterone are Klingons, because cultural diversity outweighs sexual correctness. (In other words, it's OK for them to be macho 'cause it is "their way.") "Star Trek" television episodes often devolved into soap operas. Many of the movies were very badly written. Nevertheless, "Trek" tries to grapple with genuine issues, giving complex voices even to its villains and asking hard questions about pitfalls we may face while groping for tomorrow. Anyway, when it comes to portraying human destiny, where would you rather live, assuming you'll be a normal citizen and no demigod? In Roddenberry's Federation? Or Lucas' Empire?
Lucas defends his elitist view, telling the New York Times, "That's sort of why I say a benevolent despot is the ideal ruler. He can actually get things done. The idea that power corrupts is very true and it's a big human who can get past that."
In other words a royal figure or demigod, anointed by fate. (Like a billionaire moviemaker?)
Lucas often says we are a sad culture, bereft of the confidence or inspiration that strong leaders can provide. And yet, aren't we the very same culture that produced George Lucas and gave him so many opportunities? The same society that raised all those brilliant experts for him to hire -- boldly creative folks who pour both individual inspiration and cooperative skill into his films? A culture that defies the old homogenizing impulse by worshipping eccentricity, with unprecedented hunger for the different, new or strange? It what way can such a civilization be said to lack confidence?
In historical fact, all of history's despots, combined, never managed to "get things done" as well as this rambunctious, self-critical civilization of free and sovereign citizens, who have finally broken free of worshipping a ruling class and begun thinking for themselves. Democracy can seem frustrating and messy at times, but it delivers.
Having said all that, let me again acknowledge that "Star Wars" harks to an old and very, very deeply human archetype. Those who listened to Homer recite the "Iliad" by a campfire knew great drama. Achilles could slay a thousand with the sweep of a hand -- as Darth Vader murders billions with the press of a button -- but none of those casualties matters next to the personal saga of a great one. The slaughtered victims are mere minions. Extras, without families or hopes to worry about shattering. Spear-carriers. Only the demigod's personal drama is important.
Thus few protest the apotheosis of Darth Vader -- nee Anakin Skywalker -- in "Return of the Jedi."
To put it in perspective, let's imagine that the United States and its allies managed to capture Adolf Hitler at the end of the Second World War, putting him on trial for war crimes. The prosecution spends months listing all the horrors done at his behest. Then it is the turn of Hitler's defense attorney, who rises and utters just one sentence:
"But, your honors ... Adolf did save the life of his own son!"
Gasp! The prosecutors blanch in chagrin. "We didn't know that! Of course all charges should be dismissed at once!"
The allies then throw a big parade for Hitler, down the avenues of Nuremberg.
It may sound silly, but that's exactly the lesson taught by "Return of the Jedi," wherein Darth Vader is forgiven all his sins, because he saved the life of his own son.
How many of us have argued late at night over the philosophical conundrum -- "Would you go back in time and kill Hitler as a boy, if given a chance?" It's a genuine moral puzzler, with many possible ethical answers. Still, most people, however they ultimately respond, would admit being tempted to say yes, if only to save millions of Hitler's victims.
And yet, in "The Phantom Menace," Lucas wants us to gush with warm feelings toward a cute blond little boy who will later grow up to murder the population of Earth many times over? While we're at it, why not bring out the Hitler family album, so we may croon over pictures of adorable little Adolf and marvel over his childhood exploits! He, too, was innocent till he turned to the "dark side," so by all means let us adore him.
To his credit, Lucas does not try to excuse this macabre joke by saying, "It's only a movie." Rather, he holds up his saga like an agonized Greek tragedy worthy of "Oedipus" -- an epic tale of a fallen hero, trapped by hubris and fate. But if that were true, wouldn't "Star Wars" by now have given us a better-than-caricature view of the Dark Side? Heroes and villains would not be distinguished by mere prettiness; the moral quandaries would not come from a comic book.
Don't swallow it. The apotheosis of a mass murderer is exactly what it seems. We should find it chilling.
Remember the final scene in "Return of the Jedi," when Luke gazes into a fire to see Obi-Wan, Yoda and Vader, smiling in the flames? I found myself hoping it was Jedi Hell, for the amount of pain those three unleashed on their galaxy, and for all the damned lies they told. But that's me. I'm a rebel against Homer and Achilles and that whole tradition. At heart, some of you are, too.
This isn't just a one-time distinction. It marks the main boundary between real, literate, humanistic science fiction -- or speculative fiction -- and most of the movie "sci-fi" you see nowadays.
The difference isn't really about complexity, childishness, scientific naiveti or haughty prose stylization. I like a good action scene as well as the next guy, and can forgive technical gaffes if the story is way cool! The films of Robert Zemeckis take joy in everything, from rock 'n' roll to some deep scientific paradox, feeding both the child and the adult within. Meanwhile, noir tales like "Gattaca" and "The 13th Floor" relish dark stylization while exploring real ideas. Good SF has range.
No, the underlying difference is that one tradition revels in elites, while the other rebels against them. In the genuine science-fiction worldview, demigods aren't easily forgiven lies and murder. Contempt for the masses is passi. There may be heroes -- even great ones -- but in the long run we'll improve together, or not at all. (See my note on the Enlightenment, Romanticism and science fiction.)
That kind of myth does sell. Yet, even after rebelling against the Homeric archetype for generations, we children of Pericles, Ben Franklin and H.G. Wells remain a minority. So much so that Lucas can appropriate our hand-created tropes and symbols -- our beloved starships and robots -- for his own ends and get credited for originality.
As I mentioned earlier, the mythology of conformity and demigod-worship pervades the highest levels of today's intelligentsia, and helps explain why so many postmodernist English literature professors despise real science fiction. When Joseph Campbell prescribed that writers should adhere slavishly to a hackneyed plot outline that preached submission for ages, he was lionized by Bill Moyers and countless others for his warm and fuzzy "human insight."
Indeed, his perceptions were compassionate and illuminating! Still, a frank discussion or debate might have been more useful than Campbell's sunny monologue. As in the old fable about a golden-haired king, no one dared point to the bright ruler's dark shadow, or his long trail of bloody footprints.
I admit we face an uphill battle winning most people over to a more progressive, egalitarian worldview, along with stirring dreams that focus on genuine problems and heroes, not demigods. Meanwhile, Lucas knows his mythos appeals to human nature at a deep and ancient level.
Hell, it appeals to part of my nature! Which is why I knew I'd cave in and see "The Phantom Menace," after my symbolic one-week boycott expired. In fact, let me confess that I adored the second film in the series, "The Empire Strikes Back." Despite Yoda's kitschy pseudo-zen, one could easily suspend disbelief and wait to see what the Jedi philosophy had to say. Millions became keyed up to find out, at long last, why Obi-Wan and Yoda lied like weasels to Luke Skywalker. Meanwhile, the script sizzled with originality, good dialogue and relentlessly compelling characters. The action was dynamite ... and even logical! Common folk got almost as much chance to be heroic as the demigods. Clichis were few and terrific surprises abounded. There were fine foreshadowings, promising more marvels in sequels. It was simply a great movie. Homeric but great.
You already know what I think of what came next. But worshipping Darth Vader only scratches the surface. The biggest moral flaw in the "Star Wars" universe is one point that Lucas stresses over and over again, through the voice of his all-wise guru character, Yoda.
Let's see if I get this right. Fear makes you angry and anger makes you evil, right?
Now I'll concede at once that fear has been a major motivator of intolerance in human history. I can picture knightly adepts being taught to control fear and anger, as we saw credibly in "The Empire Strikes Back." Calmness makes you a better warrior and prevents mistakes. Persistent wrath can cloud judgment. That part is completely believable.
But then, in "Return of the Jedi," Lucas takes this basic wisdom and perverts it, saying -- "If you get angry -- even at injustice and murder -- it will automatically and immediately transform you into an unalloyedly evil person! All of your opinions and political beliefs will suddenly and magically reverse. Every loyalty will be forsaken and your friends won't be able to draw you back. You will instantly join your sworn enemy as his close pal or apprentice. All because you let yourself get angry at his crimes."
Uh, say what? Could you repeat that again, slowly?
In other words, getting angry at Adolf Hitler will cause you to rush right out and join the Nazi Party? Excuse me, George. Could you come up with a single example of that happening? Ever?
That contention is, in itself, a pretty darn evil thing to preach. Above all, it is just plain dumb.
It raises a question that someone should have asked a long time ago. Who the heck nominated George Lucas to preach sick, popcorn morality at our children? If it's "only a movie," why is he working so hard to fill his films with this crap?
I think it's time to choose, people. This saga is not just another expression of the Homeric archetype, extolling old hierarchies of princes, wizards and demigods. By making its centerpiece the romanticization of a mass murderer, "Star Wars" has sunk far lower. It is unworthy of our attention, our enthusiasm -- or our civilization.
Lucas himself gives a clue when he says, "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away."
Right on. "Star Wars" belongs to our dark past. A long, tyrannical epoch of fear, illogic, despotism and demagoguery that our ancestors struggled desperately to overcome, and that we are at last starting to emerge from, aided by the scientific and egalitarian spirit that Lucas openly despises. A spirit we must encourage in our children, if they are to have any chance at all.
I don't expect to win this argument any time soon. As Joseph Campbell rightly pointed out, the ways of our ancestors tug at the soul with a resonance many find romantically appealing, even irresistible. Some cannot put the fairy tale down and move on to more mature fare. Not yet at least. Ah well.
But over the long haul, history is on my side. Because the course of human destiny won't be defined in the past. It will be decided in our future.
That's my bailiwick, though it truly belongs to all of you. To all of us.
The future is where our posterity will thrive.
---------------------------------------------------------
I should also reference Brin's wonderful article on Lord of the Rings, here
Why? What's to boycott? Isn't "Star Wars" good old fashioned sci-fi? Harmless fun? Some people call it "eye candy" -- a chance to drop back into childhood and punt your adult cares away for two hours, dwelling in a lavish universe where good and evil are vividly drawn, without all the inconvenient counterpoint distinctions that clutter daily life.
Got a problem? Cleave it with a light saber! Wouldn't you love -- just once in your life -- to dive a fast little ship into your worst enemy's stronghold and set off a chain reaction, blowing up the whole megillah from within its rotten core while you streak away to safety at the speed of light? (It's such a nifty notion that it happens in three out of four "Star Wars" flicks.)
Anyway, I make a good living writing science-fiction novels and movies. So "Star Wars" ought to be a great busman's holiday, right?
One of the problems with so-called light entertainment today is that somehow, amid all the gaudy special effects, people tend to lose track of simple things, like story and meaning. They stop noticing the moral lessons the director is trying to push. Yet these things matter.
By now it's grown clear that George Lucas has an agenda, one that he takes very seriously. After four "Star Wars" films, alarm bells should have gone off, even among those who don't look for morals in movies. When the chief feature distinguishing "good" from "evil" is how pretty the characters are, it's a clue that maybe the whole saga deserves a second look.
Just what bill of goods are we being sold, between the frames?
- Elites have an inherent right to arbitrary rule; common citizens needn't be consulted. They may only choose which elite to follow.
- "Good" elites should act on their subjective whims, without evidence, argument or accountability.
- Any amount of sin can be forgiven if you are important enough.
- True leaders are born. It's genetic. The right to rule is inherited.
- Justified human emotions can turn a good person evil.
Above all, I never cared for the whole Nietzschian \bermensch thing: the notion -- pervading a great many myths and legends -- that a good yarn has to be about demigods who are bigger, badder and better than normal folk by several orders of magnitude. It's an ancient storytelling tradition based on abiding contempt for the masses -- one that I find odious in the works of A.E. Van Vogt, E.E. Smith, L. Ron Hubbard and wherever you witness slanlike super-beings deciding the fate of billions without ever pausing to consider their wishes.
Wow, you say. If I feel that strongly about this, why just a week-long boycott? Why see the latest "Star Wars" film at all?
Because I am forced to admit that demigod tales resonate deeply in the human heart.
Before moving on to the fun stuff, will you bear with me while we get serious for a little while?
In "The Hero With a Thousand Faces," Joseph Campbell showed how a particular, rhythmic storytelling technique was used in almost every ancient and pre-modern culture, depicting protagonists and antagonists with certain consistent motives and character traits, a pattern that transcended boundaries of language and culture. In these classic tales, the hero begins reluctant, yet signs and portents foretell his pre-ordained greatness. He receives dire warnings and sage wisdom from a mentor, acquires quirky-but-faithful companions, faces a series of steepening crises, explores the pit of his own fears and emerges triumphant to bring some boon/talisman/victory home to his admiring tribe/people/nation.
By offering valuable insights into this revered storytelling tradition, Joseph Campbell did indeed shed light on common spiritual traits that seem shared by all human beings. And I'll be the first to admit it's a superb formula -- one that I've used at times in my own stories and novels.
Alas, Campbell only highlighted positive traits, completely ignoring a much darker side -- such as how easily this standard fable-template was co-opted by kings, priests and tyrants, extolling the all-importance of elites who tower over common women and men. Or the implication that we must always adhere to variations on a single story, a single theme, repeating the same prescribed plot outline over and over again. Those who praise Joseph Campbell seem to perceive this uniformity as cause for rejoicing -- but it isn't. Playing a large part in the tragic miring of our spirit, demigod myths helped reinforce sameness and changelessness for millennia, transfixing people in nearly every culture, from Gilgamesh all the way to comic book super heroes.
It is essential to understand the radical departure taken by genuine science fiction, which comes from a diametrically opposite literary tradition -- a new kind of storytelling that often rebels against those very same archetypes Campbell venerated. An upstart belief in progress, egalitarianism, positive-sum games -- and the slim but real possibility of decent human institutions.
And a compulsive questioning of rules! Authors like Greg Bear, John Brunner, Alice Sheldon, Frederik Pohl and Philip K. Dick always looked on any prescriptive storytelling formula as a direct challenge -- a dare. This explains why science fiction has never been much welcomed at either extreme of the literary spectrum -- comic books and "high literature."
Comics treat their superheroes with reverent awe, as demigods were depicted in the Iliad. But a true science fiction author who wrote about Superman would have earthling scientists ask the handsome Man of Steel for blood samples (even if it means scraping with a super fingernail) in order to study his puissant powers, and maybe bottle them for everyone.
As for the literary elite, postmodernists despise science fiction because of the word "science," while their older colleagues -- steeped in Aristotle's "Poetics" -- find anathema the underlying assumption behind most high-quality SF: the bold assertion that there are no "eternal human verities." Things change, and change can be fascinating. Moreover, our children might outgrow us! They may become better, or learn from our mistakes and not repeat them. And if they don't learn, that could be a riveting tragedy far exceeding Aristotle's cramped and myopic definition. "On the Beach," "Soylent Green" and "1984" plumbed frightening depths. "Brave New World," "The Screwfly Solution" and "Fahrenheit 451" posed worrying questions. In contrast, "Oedipus Rex" is about as interesting as watching a hooked fish thrash futilely at the end of a line. You just want to put the poor doomed King of Thebes out of his misery -- and find a way to punish his tormentors.
This truly is a different point of view, in direct opposition to older, elitist creeds that preached passivity and awe in nearly every culture, where a storyteller's chief job was to flatter the oligarchic patrons who fed him. Imagine Achilles refusing to accept his ordained destiny, taking up his sword and hunting down the Fates, demanding that they give him both a long life and a glorious one! Picture Odysseus telling both Agamemnon and Poseidon to go chase themselves, then heading off to join Daedalus in a garage start-up company, mass producing wheeled and winged horses so that mortals could swoop about the land and air, like gods -- the way common folk do today. Even if they fail, and jealous Olympians crush them, what a tale it would be.
This storytelling style was rarely seen till a few generations ago, when aristocrats lost some of their power to punish irreverence. Even now, the new perspective remains shaky -- and many find it less romantic, too. How many dramas reflexively depict scientists as "mad"? How few modern films ever show American institutions functioning well enough to bother fixing them? No wonder George Lucas publicly yearns for the pomp of mighty kings over the drab accountability of presidents. Many share his belief that things might be a whole lot more vivid without all the endless, dreary argument and negotiating that make up such a large part of modern life.
If only someone would take command. A leader.
Some people say, why look for deep lessons in harmless, escapist entertainment?
Others earnestly hold that the moral health of a civilization can be traced in its popular culture.
In the modern era, we tend to feel ideas aren't inherently toxic. Yet who can deny that people -- especially children -- will be swayed if a message is repeated often enough? It's when a "lesson" gets reiterated relentlessly that even skeptics should sit up and take notice.
The moral messages in "Star Wars" aren't just window dressing. Speeches and lectures drench every film. They represent an agenda.
Can we learn more about the "Star Wars" worldview by comparing George Lucas' space-adventure epic to its chief competitor -- "Star Trek?"
The differences at first seem superficial. One saga has an air force motif (tiny fighters) while the other appears naval. In "Star Trek," the big ship is heroic and the cooperative effort required to maintain it is depicted as honorable. Indeed, "Star Trek" sees technology as useful and essentially friendly -- if at times also dangerous. Education is a great emancipator of the humble (e.g. Starfleet Academy). Futuristic institutions are basically good-natured (the Federation), though of course one must fight outbreaks of incompetence and corruption. Professionalism is respected, lesser characters make a difference and henchmen often become brave whistle-blowers -- as they do in America today.
In "Star Trek," when authorities are defied, it is in order to overcome their mistakes or expose particular villains, not to portray all institutions as inherently hopeless. Good cops sometimes come when you call for help. Ironically, this image fosters useful criticism of authority, because it suggests that any of us can gain access to our flawed institutions, if we are determined enough -- and perhaps even fix them with fierce tools of citizenship.
By contrast, the oppressed "rebels" in "Star Wars" have no recourse in law or markets or science or democracy. They can only choose sides in a civil war between two wings of the same genetically superior royal family. They may not meddle or criticize. As Homeric spear-carriers, it's not their job.
In teaching us how to distinguish good from evil, Lucas prescribes judging by looks: Villains wear Nazi helmets. They hiss and leer, or have red-glowing eyes, like in a Ralph Bakshi cartoon. On the other hand, "Star Trek" tales often warn against judging a book by its cover -- a message you'll also find in the films of Steven Spielberg, whose spunky everyman characters delight in reversing expectations and asking irksome questions.
Above all, "Star Trek" generally depicts heroes who are only about 10 times as brilliant, noble and heroic as a normal person, prevailing through cooperation and wit, rather than because of some inherited godlike transcendent greatness. Characters who do achieve godlike powers are subjected to ruthless scrutiny. In other words, "Trek" is a prototypically American dream, entranced by notions of human improvement and a progress that lifts all. Gene Roddenberry's vision loves heroes, but it breaks away from the elitist tradition of princes and wizards who rule by divine or mystical right.
By contrast, these are the only heroes in the "Star Wars" universe.
Yes, "Trek" can at times seem preachy, or turgidly politically correct. For example, every species has to mate with every other one, interbreeding with almost compulsive abandon. The only male heroes who are allowed any testosterone are Klingons, because cultural diversity outweighs sexual correctness. (In other words, it's OK for them to be macho 'cause it is "their way.") "Star Trek" television episodes often devolved into soap operas. Many of the movies were very badly written. Nevertheless, "Trek" tries to grapple with genuine issues, giving complex voices even to its villains and asking hard questions about pitfalls we may face while groping for tomorrow. Anyway, when it comes to portraying human destiny, where would you rather live, assuming you'll be a normal citizen and no demigod? In Roddenberry's Federation? Or Lucas' Empire?
Lucas defends his elitist view, telling the New York Times, "That's sort of why I say a benevolent despot is the ideal ruler. He can actually get things done. The idea that power corrupts is very true and it's a big human who can get past that."
In other words a royal figure or demigod, anointed by fate. (Like a billionaire moviemaker?)
Lucas often says we are a sad culture, bereft of the confidence or inspiration that strong leaders can provide. And yet, aren't we the very same culture that produced George Lucas and gave him so many opportunities? The same society that raised all those brilliant experts for him to hire -- boldly creative folks who pour both individual inspiration and cooperative skill into his films? A culture that defies the old homogenizing impulse by worshipping eccentricity, with unprecedented hunger for the different, new or strange? It what way can such a civilization be said to lack confidence?
In historical fact, all of history's despots, combined, never managed to "get things done" as well as this rambunctious, self-critical civilization of free and sovereign citizens, who have finally broken free of worshipping a ruling class and begun thinking for themselves. Democracy can seem frustrating and messy at times, but it delivers.
Having said all that, let me again acknowledge that "Star Wars" harks to an old and very, very deeply human archetype. Those who listened to Homer recite the "Iliad" by a campfire knew great drama. Achilles could slay a thousand with the sweep of a hand -- as Darth Vader murders billions with the press of a button -- but none of those casualties matters next to the personal saga of a great one. The slaughtered victims are mere minions. Extras, without families or hopes to worry about shattering. Spear-carriers. Only the demigod's personal drama is important.
Thus few protest the apotheosis of Darth Vader -- nee Anakin Skywalker -- in "Return of the Jedi."
To put it in perspective, let's imagine that the United States and its allies managed to capture Adolf Hitler at the end of the Second World War, putting him on trial for war crimes. The prosecution spends months listing all the horrors done at his behest. Then it is the turn of Hitler's defense attorney, who rises and utters just one sentence:
"But, your honors ... Adolf did save the life of his own son!"
Gasp! The prosecutors blanch in chagrin. "We didn't know that! Of course all charges should be dismissed at once!"
The allies then throw a big parade for Hitler, down the avenues of Nuremberg.
It may sound silly, but that's exactly the lesson taught by "Return of the Jedi," wherein Darth Vader is forgiven all his sins, because he saved the life of his own son.
How many of us have argued late at night over the philosophical conundrum -- "Would you go back in time and kill Hitler as a boy, if given a chance?" It's a genuine moral puzzler, with many possible ethical answers. Still, most people, however they ultimately respond, would admit being tempted to say yes, if only to save millions of Hitler's victims.
And yet, in "The Phantom Menace," Lucas wants us to gush with warm feelings toward a cute blond little boy who will later grow up to murder the population of Earth many times over? While we're at it, why not bring out the Hitler family album, so we may croon over pictures of adorable little Adolf and marvel over his childhood exploits! He, too, was innocent till he turned to the "dark side," so by all means let us adore him.
To his credit, Lucas does not try to excuse this macabre joke by saying, "It's only a movie." Rather, he holds up his saga like an agonized Greek tragedy worthy of "Oedipus" -- an epic tale of a fallen hero, trapped by hubris and fate. But if that were true, wouldn't "Star Wars" by now have given us a better-than-caricature view of the Dark Side? Heroes and villains would not be distinguished by mere prettiness; the moral quandaries would not come from a comic book.
Don't swallow it. The apotheosis of a mass murderer is exactly what it seems. We should find it chilling.
Remember the final scene in "Return of the Jedi," when Luke gazes into a fire to see Obi-Wan, Yoda and Vader, smiling in the flames? I found myself hoping it was Jedi Hell, for the amount of pain those three unleashed on their galaxy, and for all the damned lies they told. But that's me. I'm a rebel against Homer and Achilles and that whole tradition. At heart, some of you are, too.
This isn't just a one-time distinction. It marks the main boundary between real, literate, humanistic science fiction -- or speculative fiction -- and most of the movie "sci-fi" you see nowadays.
The difference isn't really about complexity, childishness, scientific naiveti or haughty prose stylization. I like a good action scene as well as the next guy, and can forgive technical gaffes if the story is way cool! The films of Robert Zemeckis take joy in everything, from rock 'n' roll to some deep scientific paradox, feeding both the child and the adult within. Meanwhile, noir tales like "Gattaca" and "The 13th Floor" relish dark stylization while exploring real ideas. Good SF has range.
No, the underlying difference is that one tradition revels in elites, while the other rebels against them. In the genuine science-fiction worldview, demigods aren't easily forgiven lies and murder. Contempt for the masses is passi. There may be heroes -- even great ones -- but in the long run we'll improve together, or not at all. (See my note on the Enlightenment, Romanticism and science fiction.)
That kind of myth does sell. Yet, even after rebelling against the Homeric archetype for generations, we children of Pericles, Ben Franklin and H.G. Wells remain a minority. So much so that Lucas can appropriate our hand-created tropes and symbols -- our beloved starships and robots -- for his own ends and get credited for originality.
As I mentioned earlier, the mythology of conformity and demigod-worship pervades the highest levels of today's intelligentsia, and helps explain why so many postmodernist English literature professors despise real science fiction. When Joseph Campbell prescribed that writers should adhere slavishly to a hackneyed plot outline that preached submission for ages, he was lionized by Bill Moyers and countless others for his warm and fuzzy "human insight."
Indeed, his perceptions were compassionate and illuminating! Still, a frank discussion or debate might have been more useful than Campbell's sunny monologue. As in the old fable about a golden-haired king, no one dared point to the bright ruler's dark shadow, or his long trail of bloody footprints.
I admit we face an uphill battle winning most people over to a more progressive, egalitarian worldview, along with stirring dreams that focus on genuine problems and heroes, not demigods. Meanwhile, Lucas knows his mythos appeals to human nature at a deep and ancient level.
Hell, it appeals to part of my nature! Which is why I knew I'd cave in and see "The Phantom Menace," after my symbolic one-week boycott expired. In fact, let me confess that I adored the second film in the series, "The Empire Strikes Back." Despite Yoda's kitschy pseudo-zen, one could easily suspend disbelief and wait to see what the Jedi philosophy had to say. Millions became keyed up to find out, at long last, why Obi-Wan and Yoda lied like weasels to Luke Skywalker. Meanwhile, the script sizzled with originality, good dialogue and relentlessly compelling characters. The action was dynamite ... and even logical! Common folk got almost as much chance to be heroic as the demigods. Clichis were few and terrific surprises abounded. There were fine foreshadowings, promising more marvels in sequels. It was simply a great movie. Homeric but great.
You already know what I think of what came next. But worshipping Darth Vader only scratches the surface. The biggest moral flaw in the "Star Wars" universe is one point that Lucas stresses over and over again, through the voice of his all-wise guru character, Yoda.
Let's see if I get this right. Fear makes you angry and anger makes you evil, right?
Now I'll concede at once that fear has been a major motivator of intolerance in human history. I can picture knightly adepts being taught to control fear and anger, as we saw credibly in "The Empire Strikes Back." Calmness makes you a better warrior and prevents mistakes. Persistent wrath can cloud judgment. That part is completely believable.
But then, in "Return of the Jedi," Lucas takes this basic wisdom and perverts it, saying -- "If you get angry -- even at injustice and murder -- it will automatically and immediately transform you into an unalloyedly evil person! All of your opinions and political beliefs will suddenly and magically reverse. Every loyalty will be forsaken and your friends won't be able to draw you back. You will instantly join your sworn enemy as his close pal or apprentice. All because you let yourself get angry at his crimes."
Uh, say what? Could you repeat that again, slowly?
In other words, getting angry at Adolf Hitler will cause you to rush right out and join the Nazi Party? Excuse me, George. Could you come up with a single example of that happening? Ever?
That contention is, in itself, a pretty darn evil thing to preach. Above all, it is just plain dumb.
It raises a question that someone should have asked a long time ago. Who the heck nominated George Lucas to preach sick, popcorn morality at our children? If it's "only a movie," why is he working so hard to fill his films with this crap?
I think it's time to choose, people. This saga is not just another expression of the Homeric archetype, extolling old hierarchies of princes, wizards and demigods. By making its centerpiece the romanticization of a mass murderer, "Star Wars" has sunk far lower. It is unworthy of our attention, our enthusiasm -- or our civilization.
Lucas himself gives a clue when he says, "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away."
Right on. "Star Wars" belongs to our dark past. A long, tyrannical epoch of fear, illogic, despotism and demagoguery that our ancestors struggled desperately to overcome, and that we are at last starting to emerge from, aided by the scientific and egalitarian spirit that Lucas openly despises. A spirit we must encourage in our children, if they are to have any chance at all.
I don't expect to win this argument any time soon. As Joseph Campbell rightly pointed out, the ways of our ancestors tug at the soul with a resonance many find romantically appealing, even irresistible. Some cannot put the fairy tale down and move on to more mature fare. Not yet at least. Ah well.
But over the long haul, history is on my side. Because the course of human destiny won't be defined in the past. It will be decided in our future.
That's my bailiwick, though it truly belongs to all of you. To all of us.
The future is where our posterity will thrive.
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I should also reference Brin's wonderful article on Lord of the Rings, here
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
Vile popery
Well, today seems to be quote day - this one from the esteemed Richard Dawkins:
Yes he should, and it's going to escalate a lot further, as more and more victims break through the guilt of their childhood indoctrination and come forward.
"Should he be investigated for how cases of abuse were handled under his watch as archbishop of Munich or as the Vatican's chief doctrinal enforcer?"
Yes, of course he should. This former head of the Inquisition should be arrested the moment he dares to set foot outside his tinpot fiefdom of the Vatican, and he should be tried in an appropriate civil - not ecclesiastical - court. That's what should happen. Sadly, we all know our faith-befuddled governments will be too craven to do it.
"Should the pope resign?"
No. As the College of Cardinals must have recognized when they elected him, he is perfectly - ideally - qualified to lead the Roman Catholic Church. A leering old villain in a frock, who spent decades conspiring behind closed doors for the position he now holds; a man who believes he is infallible and acts the part; a man whose preaching of scientific falsehood is responsible for the deaths of countless AIDS victims in Africa; a man whose first instinct when his priests are caught with their pants down is to cover up the scandal and damn the young victims to silence: in short, exactly the right man for the job. He should not resign, moreover, because he is perfectly positioned to accelerate the downfall of the evil, corrupt organization whose character he fits like a glove, and of which he is the absolute and historically appropriate monarch.
No, Pope Ratzinger should not resign. He should remain in charge of the whole rotten edifice - the whole profiteering, woman-fearing, guilt-gorging, truth-hating, child-raping institution - while it tumbles, amid a stench of incense and a rain of tourist-kitsch sacred hearts and preposterously crowned virgins, about his ears
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Bold emphasis added by me, for the savoring of a perfect, and perfectly fitting, turn of phrase.
Ratzinger is the perfect pope
"Should Pope Benedict XVI be held responsible for the escalating scandals over clerical sexual abuse in Europe?"Yes he should, and it's going to escalate a lot further, as more and more victims break through the guilt of their childhood indoctrination and come forward.
"Should he be investigated for how cases of abuse were handled under his watch as archbishop of Munich or as the Vatican's chief doctrinal enforcer?"
Yes, of course he should. This former head of the Inquisition should be arrested the moment he dares to set foot outside his tinpot fiefdom of the Vatican, and he should be tried in an appropriate civil - not ecclesiastical - court. That's what should happen. Sadly, we all know our faith-befuddled governments will be too craven to do it.
"Should the pope resign?"
No. As the College of Cardinals must have recognized when they elected him, he is perfectly - ideally - qualified to lead the Roman Catholic Church. A leering old villain in a frock, who spent decades conspiring behind closed doors for the position he now holds; a man who believes he is infallible and acts the part; a man whose preaching of scientific falsehood is responsible for the deaths of countless AIDS victims in Africa; a man whose first instinct when his priests are caught with their pants down is to cover up the scandal and damn the young victims to silence: in short, exactly the right man for the job. He should not resign, moreover, because he is perfectly positioned to accelerate the downfall of the evil, corrupt organization whose character he fits like a glove, and of which he is the absolute and historically appropriate monarch.
No, Pope Ratzinger should not resign. He should remain in charge of the whole rotten edifice - the whole profiteering, woman-fearing, guilt-gorging, truth-hating, child-raping institution - while it tumbles, amid a stench of incense and a rain of tourist-kitsch sacred hearts and preposterously crowned virgins, about his ears
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Bold emphasis added by me, for the savoring of a perfect, and perfectly fitting, turn of phrase.
It's not what you know
From the New York Times:
In 1994, Philip Bowring, a contributor to the International Herald Tribune’s op-ed page, agreed as part of an undertaking with the leaders of the government of Singapore that he would not say or imply that Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong had attained his position through nepotism practiced by his father Lee Kuan Yew. In a February 15, 2010, article, Mr. Bowring nonetheless included these two men in a list of Asian political dynasties, which may have been understood by readers to infer that the younger Mr. Lee did not achieve his position through merit. We wish to state clearly that this inference was not intended. We apologize to Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong, Minister Mentor Lee Kuan Yew and former Prime Minister Goh Chok Tong for any distress or embarrassment caused by any breach of the undertaking and the article.Gee, imagine that - accusing Lee Kuan Yew's son of being nepotistically rewarded with the Prime Ministerial office, purely because he's the incompetent son of a ruthless father? How could they be so blatantly biased?
Monday, December 21, 2009
Retrograde America
One thing only occurred to me over the weekend, about the American politico/social environment - and to be honest, I feel a bit retarded for not having twigged to it 20 years ago.
Simply, America had its revolution 200 years ago, unlike say England & the Continent, and the ideas that got embedded were a lot more weighted in favour of large land owners, fat cat mercantilists, and social stability, and quite disdainful of the common clay of working people ... and while the 19/20th century social revolutions that brought up the power of the working class didnt completely skip the USA, to a huge extent all of it was just suppressed/oppressed/killed off.
I mean, I know how the Union movement was anathematized and slaughtered (quite literally), and driven into a headlong bullheaded opposition to corporations, which still lingers, but it hadn't quite sunk in, the extent to which all of the accompanying social evolution just got kinda ... missed.
More later I hope - this week bids fair to be frenziedly busy (everyone trying to cram stuff in before the end of the year budget thing!)
Simply, America had its revolution 200 years ago, unlike say England & the Continent, and the ideas that got embedded were a lot more weighted in favour of large land owners, fat cat mercantilists, and social stability, and quite disdainful of the common clay of working people ... and while the 19/20th century social revolutions that brought up the power of the working class didnt completely skip the USA, to a huge extent all of it was just suppressed/oppressed/killed off.
I mean, I know how the Union movement was anathematized and slaughtered (quite literally), and driven into a headlong bullheaded opposition to corporations, which still lingers, but it hadn't quite sunk in, the extent to which all of the accompanying social evolution just got kinda ... missed.
More later I hope - this week bids fair to be frenziedly busy (everyone trying to cram stuff in before the end of the year budget thing!)
Monday, December 14, 2009
Welcome to America!
Well, I got to see my first real American guns last week - most exciting and scarey.
I was walking back from buying lunch, in mid-Little Rock, when I saw a minor car accident: two cars, heading in opposite directions, both attempting to turn into the same lane of the cross-street, and bang! meeting corner-to-corner. I couldn't say whether either or both were using indicators.
One car, driven by a black guy, careened across the crossing road, and up onto a car parking area. The other, driven by a young white guy, kinda stopped right in the middle of the intersection. Both of the drivers got out of their cars and appeared to be OK at first glance.
However, the car behind the white guys one, also trying to turn it appeared, managed to stop abruptly, just avoiding rear-ending him, and 4 young white guys got out of that car, all screaming something and waving pistols in the air. I suppose in retrospect they might have been replicas but they sure looked real.
I ducked back to the shop entrance I'd just emerged from to get some cover in case the crazy bastards started shooting, and the black guy across the road dropped flat to the pavement behind his car, but the other driver just kinda stood there. At first I thought they were screaming abuse and menacing the black driver but after a brief observation it seems they were yelling at the guy in front of them, for getting in their way when they were in a hurry to ... and I lost that part of it.
After 20 or 30 seconds, they piled back into their rust bucket, and careened off down the street they had been turning into, driving partly on the wrong side of the road. They didnt actually shoot at all.
Welcome to the wild mid-west I guess.
I was walking back from buying lunch, in mid-Little Rock, when I saw a minor car accident: two cars, heading in opposite directions, both attempting to turn into the same lane of the cross-street, and bang! meeting corner-to-corner. I couldn't say whether either or both were using indicators.
One car, driven by a black guy, careened across the crossing road, and up onto a car parking area. The other, driven by a young white guy, kinda stopped right in the middle of the intersection. Both of the drivers got out of their cars and appeared to be OK at first glance.
However, the car behind the white guys one, also trying to turn it appeared, managed to stop abruptly, just avoiding rear-ending him, and 4 young white guys got out of that car, all screaming something and waving pistols in the air. I suppose in retrospect they might have been replicas but they sure looked real.
I ducked back to the shop entrance I'd just emerged from to get some cover in case the crazy bastards started shooting, and the black guy across the road dropped flat to the pavement behind his car, but the other driver just kinda stood there. At first I thought they were screaming abuse and menacing the black driver but after a brief observation it seems they were yelling at the guy in front of them, for getting in their way when they were in a hurry to ... and I lost that part of it.
After 20 or 30 seconds, they piled back into their rust bucket, and careened off down the street they had been turning into, driving partly on the wrong side of the road. They didnt actually shoot at all.
Welcome to the wild mid-west I guess.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
These guys really are crazy II
OK, off the top of my head:
The thing is, these are all complete lies. They don't have any underlying basis of facts, they are just crazy ranting. And they are all broadcast, not by crazies crouched in basements, but by prominent media personalities, and repeated and echoed by the bulk of the media - TV, newspapers and internet channels. Some of them keep getting dragged up, again and again, even though they are comprehensively refuted each time.
And about a quarter of the country sucks all these up, repeats them, screams them endlessly, and will not listen to reason.
What's more, they are hyping themselves into such a frenzy of threats, menaces, and violence, that I fear that at some point someone will start acting on it, and people will start being murdered.
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*Frankly, aside of this being a good idea, the idea that you should have a veto over how your tax money is spent is ridiculous: you dont get to withhold taxes for a war you disagree with, or for other policies you may find deeply offensive.
- The health reform bill includes Death Panels that will cut off any older people from health care to keep them alive
- The health care bill will fund abortions! With your Tax Money!*
- Health Care reform will Bankrupt the Health Insurance Companies! (though noone explains why that is a bad thing)
- The health care bill means faceless bureaucrats will dictate who your doctor is
- The health care bill will introduce Socialised Medicine (whatever that is)
- The health care bill will mean rationing and you wont be able to get care that you deserve
- The health care bill means illegal immigrants will get free medical care! (not that anyone explains what is actually wrong with that concept)
- The health care bill is just like Hitler's policies (yes, seriously, that was pushed out by the NRCC)
- Health care reform will take so much money out of Medicare so old folks wont get health care because there wont be any money for it.
- Obama is running out on the troops in Afghanistan
- Obama is going crazy and pouring troops into Afghanistan
- Obama is betraying the country by not nuking and invading Iran (while still involved in Iraq and Afghanistan, not that that is mentioned)
- Obama is betraying civilisation by not supporting Georgia and launching an invasion of Russia, NOW!
- Cap and Trade is a TAX and will destroy business and make everyone poor
- Spending money on a depressed economy is crazy and will unbalance the budget
- (leading to) Roosevelt didnt solve the Great Depression, it would have gone away by itself and he did more damage than good
- Plus, Roosevelt didnt solve the Great Depression, it would have gone on forever except for WW2
- Oh and WW2 doesn't count as stimulus spending, because. Just because. (these 3 usually in the same paragraph).
- Obama was born in Kenya and his birth certificate was faked.
- Michelle Obama is a crazy vengeful radical black woman who will .... well, thats never clear
- Obama is a crazy communist vengeful black man who is going to get revenge all whites
- Women should no longer get the vote (they vote for Democrats too much)
The thing is, these are all complete lies. They don't have any underlying basis of facts, they are just crazy ranting. And they are all broadcast, not by crazies crouched in basements, but by prominent media personalities, and repeated and echoed by the bulk of the media - TV, newspapers and internet channels. Some of them keep getting dragged up, again and again, even though they are comprehensively refuted each time.
And about a quarter of the country sucks all these up, repeats them, screams them endlessly, and will not listen to reason.
What's more, they are hyping themselves into such a frenzy of threats, menaces, and violence, that I fear that at some point someone will start acting on it, and people will start being murdered.
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*Frankly, aside of this being a good idea, the idea that you should have a veto over how your tax money is spent is ridiculous: you dont get to withhold taxes for a war you disagree with, or for other policies you may find deeply offensive.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
TV and information
I've been watching the soi-disant news shows here, and getting more and more dissatisfied with them (as I suppose is obvious from other rants I've made). It occurred to me quite recently that one reason is the quality and type of guest that is always getting interviewed.
I should explain, first - there are 4 free to air channels here, which frankly are all pretty much rubbish: tons of "reality TV" with programmed reactions but nice cheap non-actors, a few game shows still survive, and some very formulaic and guarenteed non-offensive sitcoms and cop shows of various ilks. Then there is 'cable' (although I actually get this via satellite) which is divided into 'basic cable' and 'premium', based essentially on price - which in this case tends to actually relate to the quality of programs, as premium channels to tend to have the few really good and occasionally innovative programs.
The news shows are all on basic cable, or some variation thereof, and there are several channels of them, plus specialised business news and so forth. They all run 24 hours a day, which means they all have 24 hours of broadcast to fill with something, anything. The approach to this varies between channels, but it basically comprises some mix of massive repetition, pointless interviews, and endless editorialising by journalists, generally about subjects they exhibit a stunning ignorance of, or about their own idiot prejudices. Some of that can be amusing of course, especially if they either share my prejudices, or if I'm in the mood to be loudly and rudely mocking at the TV.
Anyway, one of the things I noticed is an awful lot of the people getting interviewed on these shows are other journalists. Now that might be fine in the case of, say, a financial analyst being interviewed about things economic, or a political analyst being interviewed about politics, or even say a political reporter being interviewed about what he's observed. However, an awful lot of it seems to be just reporters being interviewed for their completely uninformed opinions on, say, what the public thinks about X or Y, or what effect a government decree will have on Z, without any training or specialised knowledge at all: essentially just banging on about their own prejudices again, but palmed off as actual news.
Then in addition, you get the people who started as specialists on one subject, but obviously the news director liked them, so they start getting interviewed about broader and broader subjects, until it's completely removed from any knowledge or specialisation they might have. Which I suppose can be entertaining if they are someone who speaks vivaciously and has a fund of stories and metaphors to colour the interview, but in terms of disseminating actual information and real analysis and dissection, it just seems that anything useful gets inundated in a tidal wave of twaddle, misinformation (and of course outright lies and delusions).
This of course is not really different from what I do here, but then I don't ask for money or pretend to some greater significance. Hmm, perhaps I should consider a new career as a talking head? :)
The end result, however, seems to be an enormous echo chamber that outshouts any serious information, reinforces existing prejudice however crazy*, and lacks any real positive attributes at all. I don't have a solution for this**, but it looks like it will not get addressed - in fact it's very hard to see anyone who could address it - and will only continue its' ever-growing din.
*thus the nonsense about Obama being a foreign citizen, born of insane racism and amplified and repeated endlessly
** well none that is either politically or ethically acceptable. Shooting them all probably wouldn't work anyway
I should explain, first - there are 4 free to air channels here, which frankly are all pretty much rubbish: tons of "reality TV" with programmed reactions but nice cheap non-actors, a few game shows still survive, and some very formulaic and guarenteed non-offensive sitcoms and cop shows of various ilks. Then there is 'cable' (although I actually get this via satellite) which is divided into 'basic cable' and 'premium', based essentially on price - which in this case tends to actually relate to the quality of programs, as premium channels to tend to have the few really good and occasionally innovative programs.
The news shows are all on basic cable, or some variation thereof, and there are several channels of them, plus specialised business news and so forth. They all run 24 hours a day, which means they all have 24 hours of broadcast to fill with something, anything. The approach to this varies between channels, but it basically comprises some mix of massive repetition, pointless interviews, and endless editorialising by journalists, generally about subjects they exhibit a stunning ignorance of, or about their own idiot prejudices. Some of that can be amusing of course, especially if they either share my prejudices, or if I'm in the mood to be loudly and rudely mocking at the TV.
Anyway, one of the things I noticed is an awful lot of the people getting interviewed on these shows are other journalists. Now that might be fine in the case of, say, a financial analyst being interviewed about things economic, or a political analyst being interviewed about politics, or even say a political reporter being interviewed about what he's observed. However, an awful lot of it seems to be just reporters being interviewed for their completely uninformed opinions on, say, what the public thinks about X or Y, or what effect a government decree will have on Z, without any training or specialised knowledge at all: essentially just banging on about their own prejudices again, but palmed off as actual news.
Then in addition, you get the people who started as specialists on one subject, but obviously the news director liked them, so they start getting interviewed about broader and broader subjects, until it's completely removed from any knowledge or specialisation they might have. Which I suppose can be entertaining if they are someone who speaks vivaciously and has a fund of stories and metaphors to colour the interview, but in terms of disseminating actual information and real analysis and dissection, it just seems that anything useful gets inundated in a tidal wave of twaddle, misinformation (and of course outright lies and delusions).
This of course is not really different from what I do here, but then I don't ask for money or pretend to some greater significance. Hmm, perhaps I should consider a new career as a talking head? :)
The end result, however, seems to be an enormous echo chamber that outshouts any serious information, reinforces existing prejudice however crazy*, and lacks any real positive attributes at all. I don't have a solution for this**, but it looks like it will not get addressed - in fact it's very hard to see anyone who could address it - and will only continue its' ever-growing din.
*thus the nonsense about Obama being a foreign citizen, born of insane racism and amplified and repeated endlessly
** well none that is either politically or ethically acceptable. Shooting them all probably wouldn't work anyway
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Anything but music
Isn't music in such a strange strange place, these days. I was just talking to the guy at the next desk, & he mentioned that, growing up, he loved music & it was all he was good at: but he declined to seek it out as a profession, or study it at Uni - after all, the only thing you can do with it nowadays is go into teaching music at high school: and the first thing that gets cut when the budget gets squeezed is the music teacher (before even the art teacher).
Of course, I guess this has always been somewhat true, but the gap between popular (or at least high-selling) music, and what is taught as music seems to get wider with every year. Perhaps this is just my perception though, and part of the Old Mans' Grump - kids nowadays dress funny, dance funny, talk funny, listen to awful music, and aren't respectful enough, blah blah blah. Goes right along with the dont-the-policemen-look-so-young-now spiel, I guess.
Still, popular music does seem odd .. but then, perhaps it always did. I'm listening to Bob Dylan at the moment, which is - as always - a decidedly mixed pleasure. His voice resembles nothing so much as a castrated cat being slowly strangled, in all honesty, the melody is often indifferent and the beat all but nonexistent, but then - ah - the lyrics just lift and soar, carry you along to unexpected destinations, or familiar lockers of the heart, or just into the imagination. It's hard to hear some of these and not be moved, at many levels. Like:
Time is a jet plane,
it moves too fast
ah but what a shame,
that all we've shared can't last
I can change I swear
oh, see what you can do
I can make it through
you can make it too
A change in the weather
is known to be extreme
but whats the sense
in changing horses midstream
I'm going out of my mind
oh with a pain that stops and starts
like a corkscrew to my heart
ever since we've been apart
Or
Disillusioned words like bullets bark
as human gods aim for their mark
made everything from toy guns that spark
to flesh-coloured Christs that glow in the dark
it's easy to see without looking too far
that not much is really sacred
while preachers preach of evil fate
teachers teach that knowledge waits
can lead to hundred-dollar plates
and goodness hides behind its gates
but even the President of the United States
sometimes must have to stand naked
Or
Praise be to Nero's Neptune
the Titanic sails at dawn
everybody's shouting
which side are yo on
and Ezra Pound and TS Eliot
fighting in the captain's tower
while calypso singers laugh at them
and fishermen hold flowers
between the windows of the sea
where lovely mermaids flow
and nobody has to think too much
about Desolation Row
Which last just about brings me back to where I started, the divorce between high culture and popular culture. I still don't really see its' roots, in truth, whether it has always existed, or it is something that has grown up out of capitalism, a combination of elitism and market differentiation. A hundred years ago, opera and music hall seemed to co-exist, and both were popular and on the lips of anyone and everyone. Now, well...
But, speaking of Bob Dylan as I was, I found a jazz singer, Madeleine Peyroux, who has done a number of covers of his songs (along with some from Leonard Cohen, that other mordant bleak wordsmith of genius), and they sounded just amazing: add a warm rich voice, and a swinging jazz background, and they lift the songs to another level again. Now all I need to do is find a couple of albums of people doing Dylan covers to make me happy !
Of course, I guess this has always been somewhat true, but the gap between popular (or at least high-selling) music, and what is taught as music seems to get wider with every year. Perhaps this is just my perception though, and part of the Old Mans' Grump - kids nowadays dress funny, dance funny, talk funny, listen to awful music, and aren't respectful enough, blah blah blah. Goes right along with the dont-the-policemen-look-so-young-now spiel, I guess.
Still, popular music does seem odd .. but then, perhaps it always did. I'm listening to Bob Dylan at the moment, which is - as always - a decidedly mixed pleasure. His voice resembles nothing so much as a castrated cat being slowly strangled, in all honesty, the melody is often indifferent and the beat all but nonexistent, but then - ah - the lyrics just lift and soar, carry you along to unexpected destinations, or familiar lockers of the heart, or just into the imagination. It's hard to hear some of these and not be moved, at many levels. Like:
Time is a jet plane,
it moves too fast
ah but what a shame,
that all we've shared can't last
I can change I swear
oh, see what you can do
I can make it through
you can make it too
A change in the weather
is known to be extreme
but whats the sense
in changing horses midstream
I'm going out of my mind
oh with a pain that stops and starts
like a corkscrew to my heart
ever since we've been apart
Or
Disillusioned words like bullets bark
as human gods aim for their mark
made everything from toy guns that spark
to flesh-coloured Christs that glow in the dark
it's easy to see without looking too far
that not much is really sacred
while preachers preach of evil fate
teachers teach that knowledge waits
can lead to hundred-dollar plates
and goodness hides behind its gates
but even the President of the United States
sometimes must have to stand naked
Or
Praise be to Nero's Neptune
the Titanic sails at dawn
everybody's shouting
which side are yo on
and Ezra Pound and TS Eliot
fighting in the captain's tower
while calypso singers laugh at them
and fishermen hold flowers
between the windows of the sea
where lovely mermaids flow
and nobody has to think too much
about Desolation Row
Which last just about brings me back to where I started, the divorce between high culture and popular culture. I still don't really see its' roots, in truth, whether it has always existed, or it is something that has grown up out of capitalism, a combination of elitism and market differentiation. A hundred years ago, opera and music hall seemed to co-exist, and both were popular and on the lips of anyone and everyone. Now, well...
But, speaking of Bob Dylan as I was, I found a jazz singer, Madeleine Peyroux, who has done a number of covers of his songs (along with some from Leonard Cohen, that other mordant bleak wordsmith of genius), and they sounded just amazing: add a warm rich voice, and a swinging jazz background, and they lift the songs to another level again. Now all I need to do is find a couple of albums of people doing Dylan covers to make me happy !
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