13 posts tagged “philosophy”
From yesterday:
So, I’m warning you now, this entry will be a mess. I’m just tired of not putting anything up because I’ve got too much going on. I reckon this was meant first and foremost as a kind of diary, so I might as well show everybody just how disorganized I am.
Anyway, so, today’s my birthday. It’s been a harsh day, and it’s not over, yet. Well, a harsh day by my life’s standards. I am fully cognizant that by many, many standards, my life is superb. I’m not trying to claim any victim status, by a long shot.
Basically, I just got called to do a lot of extra work so my bosses could go play. That might sound like a bitter exaggeration. It’s honestly just a recounting. My entire management team decided to go off and play golf today and tomorrow, and left me with their responsibilities. While I suppose I could celebrate my importance in being given such accountability, I know that it will not translate into benefits. This is because they have expressed many times that they are aware that they are above the rest of us, and therefore deserve more prestige and perks. If they happen to take vacation days en masse, and on the same day as they introduce two new major programs, and it just so happens to be my birthday, well, that’s what I’m here for. So, while I don’t mean this as simply a complaint, my issue is this: that this kind of a relationship is the natural expression of our business system. We are encouraged to view those whom we pay for services as less than ourselves. Whether you’re talking about a prostitute, or a doctor, you are encouraged to think of yourself above them. It’s related to what Marx called the alienation of labor. In that idea, Marx is saying that we view ourselves as separate and distinct from virtually everything we do because we are paid for our labor. But, what does that leave for us? Do we become simply our paycheck? Do we become the things we buy with that paycheck? Am I a different person from my Boss because I drive a Kia and he drives a Lexus? Am I a different person because his house has 5000 square feet more than mine? It’s this sort of thinking that led him inexorably to communism. The idea was, inevitably, humans search for identity and meaning. If capitalism, and its system of buying and selling things, including people’s time and labor, leads to inadequate answers about who and what we are, then, we will seek out alternatives. He thought we’d seek out a more equitable solution, hence, he came to communism. I’m more cynical than Karl Marx. Then, again, I’ve got over a century’s worth of additional history to count, as well. I don’t think we’re looking for something more humane, and equitable. I think we’re just looking for something that seems about right. So, we stubbornly cling to notions that we are both what we do, and what we have, depending upon the scenario, but the bottom line, is money. We crunch the numbers. So, if you’ve got more than your doctor, your doctor is a schlub, to you. If you’ve got more than your employees, well, then, you’ve got every right to view them as subordinate to you, in every way, because you’re more of a person than them. All is right with your world, and you don’t even think enough of the next guy’s world to not care about it.
Well, I’m trying to be a little better about that, in myself. To realize and recognize that I’ve got a heck of a lot more going for me, in my life than many have in theirs. Beyond the cliché starving kids in Africa, I have a lot more than even my Bosses, because one of the things I have is the good graces of people and powers much greater than myself. To give you a really simple explanation, let’s look at my wife. She is kind and good to me, and yet, she is more patient, more rational, and more noble than I ever have been. She also earns more money than me, and probably counts for more in this world than me. That such a person is good and kind to me counts more in my favor than any paycheck or car. So, again, I’m not complaining that my day has been made harsh by the indifference and disregard of my Bosses. I’m commenting on an inadequacy of the system they believe in. I still think that there is an answer in all this, but I don’t believe that many will take up that answer. If I were to have a complaint, it would be about that. That so few of us (me, included) are willing to lift our heads up and try to discover something better.
This kind of thinking extends beyond economics, though. I really do try to always recognize the humanity of everyone. I don’t mean in some kind of sappy “Everyone is Beautiful” kind of way. What I mean is that I try to recognize that there are things we do, as people, that are fairly constant. Most people, for example, like to feel important. At least, important enough to warrant some deference, some basic social niceties. So, I try to maintain some decorum. Another example; very, very few people think of themselves as “Evil”. At most, they’ll think they are “bad” in the sense of being incompetent, or weak, in the sense that an alcoholic thinks of themselves as susceptible to drink. So, no matter how wicked the act, I look for where the rationalization lies. Even Charlie Manson finds some excuse for his own acts. Most people think they are reasonable, fair minded and sinning less than they are sinned against. So, I try to disregard that in myself. After all, when even George Bush can look at himself and say “I’m a good man”, doesn’t that discount the merits of such self-analysis? Instead, I try to look at things in terms of how the “other guy” might see it. I’m not looking for approval, though, either. I’m looking for the closest I can come to objectivity. I also recognize that we live our lives in a certain state of benign neglect: most folks don’t think about us twice, if they think of us at all. So, I try to not be too self-important. I don’t know if this is clear at all, but what I am saying is that I try to recognize that we’re all schlubs, down here. We’re neither angels nor demons. Only Johnny Cash, Joe Strummer, and my wife are saints. I guess you could call it the tangent to the golden rule: understand others as they might understand you.
Another way this kind of thinking drives me is that I am trying to give over my little bit towards creating that world that only exists in my head. You know, that world that’s in ecological balance, where people live in dignity, honor, and peace, and where such values matter more. I don’t believe I’ll ever see that world, but I do what little I can to help nurture such hopes.
No, you don't.
Every once in awhile it bugs me. This thing of "I need to express" or "I have to say" or whatever. It's almost always followed up by something that the person doesn't really need to share.
How I feel about it is related to how I feel about a lot of people's notion of "support". Support should mean holding somebody up: helping them up when they fall. It shouldn't mean agreeing to every silly thing they say or do.
So, some thing should be shared. If you have pertinent information, yes, please share. If you're just looking at making yourself feel better about something, please don't. I don't like being conscripted to be your chorus.
Here's a good litmus test for what I mean: if it's something you could stand having somebody disagree with, chances are you're sharing. If you only want agreement, you're probably burdening the rest of us.
Now, of course, I've said and written some things that I'll brook no discussion over. I'm not trying to defend that. Just like everything that bugs anyone, there is a little hypocrisy involved. I could come up with defenses, but no, I won't.
But, I will leave you with a thought: what in the world ever gave anybody the idea that all opinions are equal?
So,I heard about this movie Funny Games, that's been remade frame-by-frame with new actors for an American audience. In a nutshell, the story is this: a wealthy family goes on vacation, but is captured by a pair of bad men who torture them, humiliate them, and then, kill them. The "arty" methodology is supposed to make you think, however, in that one of the killers frequently breaks the fourth wall, making the audience complicit, or victimized depending upon your perspective.
Clearly, this film is a piece of garbage, and I've got no desire to see it. Honestly, though I've liked Tim Roth in earlier films, and found Naomi Watts passable, I hope this movie signals the ends of their careers as actors. It's one thing to be involved in a piece of garbage, but it's another to be a marionette in a slavish remake of a piece of garbage.
Here's my beef, part one: I don't believe that Art is what the Artist makes it. I believe that Art is what communicates best with the audience. I've watched a ton of violent movies, including slasher flicks, exploitation films, and so on. I've seen films with extremely dubious moral perspectives, like Cannibal Holocaust and Videodrome and Salo and Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (Please note that saying I've seen them does not mean I've enjoyed them, or thought they were "good". Of these, the only one I thought was a genuinely good film was Henry, and the only one I found even somewhat enjoyable was Videodrome). I am aware of deeply disturbing films being made, especially in the Nazi Exploitation and Mondo sub-genres. Any and all art house philosophy concerning voyeurism and complicity in atrocity is old news to me. The communication that almost all of them make is one of condescension. It's the Philosopher-king looking down on all of us plebes, and haughtily declaring that we content ourselves with bread and circuses. You're soaking in it, is my reply. Haneke is simply an emotionally distant sadist, who is trying to disguise his contempt as both politics and art. But, rather than stick with what could be called an Ad hominem attack, let me also point out an alternate view on violent films: the ones that appeal to a larger subset of audiences invariably have a decent protagonist who triumphs in the end. This is because why an audience will watch a film, or view any Art at all is to be edified, in some fashion. In a violent movie, the edification, as often as not, is "take courage". The odds may be stacked against you in a seemingly endless, brutal and sadistic fashion, but take courage because it is still possible to survive. Think about a generic slasher film; young teens are preyed upon by a relentless and heartless killer, usually with a white, female protagonist who survives by being indomitable. Ultimately, the message is that if you refuse to give in, you will survive. This is what Haneke, and other Art-house failures are spitting on: the very notion of courage. I'm fully aware of the 'satires" and the exceptions, and of the recent "torture porn' movies, but even these movies do not insult the audience in the same fashion, in that, by making the audience identify with the villains, they're at least affirming some humanity, even if they've got it all wrong.
But, that brings me to the second part of my beef: Why would we want to cover the same ground, again and again? The questions of why would anyone want to see something horrible go all the way back to the ancient greeks. There are only two answers: either because life has its horrors, or because we are horrible. I'm firmly in the "life has its horrors" camp. But, the thing is, I don't want to see horrible things. As a punk rocker, I loathed the confusion in "underground" circles of the merely shocking, and the perverse for genuine rebellion. I don't think swastikas look cool, I don't think that porn is a legitimate art form, I don't think that falling outside of behavioral norms is anything other than poor taste. I like to think that a revolution is where you actually change something in a radical fashion, and I don't much care for rebellion where all you do is degrade yourself. In other words, I don't see the point in staying "outside of society" in Patti Smith's words, when you can instead shift society just that little bit. Back when I first got into all the Punk/radical/underground stuff, a guy who called himself "Geza X" explained it this way; we need to make an evolutionary leap. It's as simple as that: the reason to explore the deep end is to learn how to swim. The reason to go down the dark alley is to put up a lamp post. So, Why go back to the question of why unless you're not happy with the answer, or you're ignorant of both the question and the answer. Given that this is now a remake, I think Haneke is aware of both question and answer. So, that just leaves that he doesn't like the answer. He still is looking for some way that he's better, more evolved than us, and we're just cretins awaiting his golden wisdom. I've seen that hundreds of times before, and it's still just wrong. I believe in progression, and I believe in people. I think that humans are perfectible: not perfect, yet, but working on it. So, why would I want to see something horrible? So I can make it better. Otherwise, I'm just G G Allin, rolling in my own filth, accomplishing nothing. In other words, I'm about self-improvement, not self-destruction.
Now, I've got a million more beefs with the whole notion of post-modernist critique. Suffice it to say that I disagree with Foucalt, Debord, and Barthes (who at least is funny, so I'll read his stuff, every once in awhile) because I think they're self-defeating slugs. I think this movie falls right in with them, but that will have to be another rant.
When I was a kid, I went through a phase of really liking Steppenwolf. Later on, I read the Herman Hesse book which is actually far better than the band, but right now, I want to reprint some of the Band's lyrics. No, not borne to be wild, that would be terrible. No, these are to 'Everybody's Next One" which is a song I think applies to a percentage of girls I know, right now. Let's hope they don't apply to you:
She's all alone, just lost another one
Met him yesterday and he's already gone
And though tonight she'll swear it was the last time
A smiling face will come that knows the right line
And then she'll do all the right things with the wrong guy
And when he's gone, next day she'll sit and wonder why
She doesn't know why she's everybody's next one
'Cause she's afraid that the truth is gonna hurt some
All the pity in the world ain't gonna help none
She has to realize that to keep one, her ways have to change some
She tries too hard and she comes on too strong
Digs herself too much and thinks she can't be wrong
She's too impressed by things that do not matter
To be the Queen of hearts is what she's after.
And then she'll do all the right things with the wrong guy
And when he's gone, next day she'll sit and wonder why
She doesn't know why she's everybody's next one
'Cause she's afraid that the truth is gonna hurt some
All the pity in the world ain't gonna help none
She has to realize that to keep one, her ways have to change some
"'Give us,' they say, 'something even pock-marked, but our own.' This is false and untrue. A pock-marked art is no art and is therefore not necessary to the working masses. Those who believe in a 'pock-marked' art are imbued to a considerable extent with contempt for the masses." - Trotsky
I like the best things. I always have. The only difference is that I believe that I can define what is "best" by my standards, and not the standards that have been given to me. So, when I champion so-called "Punk", bear in mind that is a label other people put on it. I still view it as the finest in rock and roll music. When I talk about socialism, people imagine that I'm thinking of factory workers, dressed in grey boiler suits, eating gruel, and hearing bullhorns crackling out orders. What they don't seem to understand is that I am actually talking about the finest moments in humanity, like your fondest memory of a family dinner.
The quote I'm leading off with here is from an essay of Art criticism that Trotsky wrote. While I don't share Trotsky's revolutionary vision, I agree with the man more than I disagree about how people are. When people imagine politically motivated Art, aesthetics, and culture, they think of identity first. This is all wrong. People like grafitti art not because it's "from the streets". They like it because it's beautiful. I don't like bad folk art, I don't like bad rock and roll, and i don't like bad politics, or bad culture. I like the finest there is, by my standards.
But, likewise, I don't fall for second rate, "pock marked" stuff, just because somebody says it's "punk' or "socialist' or "working class" or whatever other descriptor is supposed to make me identify with their product. Ultimately, i think Trotsky is right about that, too. Giving me trash that you've labelled as something I'll like shows enormous contempt for me.
Just a little something you can think about the next time somebody tells you what you should like.
So, at work, I have been mailing checks. Thousands of them, actually. While doing so, I see the US Flag-on-a-stamp literally thousands of times. Tends to make me ruminate over it, you know what I mean? It's the Brand logo for this country, and I don't really read too much more into it. I realize that for some people any manifestation of the Stars n Bars is a deeply resonant symbol of all that is good. I just see as The US's version of the Nike swoosh. So,this got me thinking about brands and logos, and how we "read" them. I think we read them in a very primal fashion. They say that children know the Burger King logo before they know the letters of the Alphabet and that the Coca Cola logo is seen more times by more people than the sun, and maybe that's true, and maybe we're forgetting something even more primal, but ultimately, it seems to me like peasants in the middle ages getting their religion from stained glass, because they cannot read the book. Maybe that kind of visual representation is just as valid as the abstract process of words, as it predates the word: they're cave drawings, not cave poems. Maybe we're still evolving, and learning to "read" in a different way. I honestly don't know, but it's interesting to me that we embue anything with meaning at all.
On the other hand, clearly something has changed. I mean, have you see the flickr photos of the Detroit book repository? While I find the photos distressing, I cannot say they shock me. Maybe the kind of reading I prefer, the one with words and books is the aberration, after all....
In case you didn't already know, Blade Runner is one of my favorite movies, and I just scored the edition you see above. Why get excited about a movie i've seen many, many times, and already own on VHS, and DVD?
Because it's frickin' BLADE RUNNER!!
But, it's kinda like the caucus they just had in Iowa (which looks to be a Huckabee/Obama victory. Congrats to them). It took a long, and complicated route to get to where I want things. Just as in Iowa, they're trying to balance the needs and desires of the minority (a small state, and those without a winning candidate) with the needs and desires of the majority (the rest of the election, and those with a winning candidate) I can see both interpretations of Blade Runner.
In case you don't geek out for it like me, here's the debate in a nutshell: Is Deckard (Harrison Ford, aka the Protagonist) human?
On one side, you've got those who believe that Deckard is human. For this side, the story becomes a tale of man vs. machine, with the subtext being that even the machines yearn for what we already have: human imperfection, affection, and infection. The downside of this, though, is that it reduces the love story to a tale of a man and his plaything, as Rachel (Sean Young) is unquestionably a robot. It puts too much power into the hands of Deckard to make their connection anything better than a perversion.
On the other side, you've got those who believe that Deckard is a robot.For this side, the story becomes a tale of self-discovery, where through conflict, even Robots get a soul, with the subtext being that experience helps shape us, and lets us understand the world, but only through our actions are we ourselves. The downside of this, though, is that it reduces the conflict between Deckard and Roy Batty (Rutger Hauer) to a kind of mental exercise, where Roy is more the hero than Deckard, and the audience is played for a chump, trying to empathize with the little Deckard puppet, who's just the plaything of the cops, and other forces of capital C "control".
So, you really need multiple tellings of the story so that each side can weigh in with their relative merits. The end result perfects the story: Deckard is both Human, and robot. He is both discovering what it means for him to love, to hate, to hope and to fear, and he is struggling with non-humans who are more human than he is. It makes everyone, and everything more important.
See, that's a lesson that i really hope we all can learn: to see the things that others see, and learn how that improves our lives as well as theirs. It doesn't always have to be a dichotomy. Sometimes, it can be a dialectic.
I wouldn't necessarily claim to be a cowboy, but I think that cowboys are pretty good, as far as stereotypes go. Resourceful, self-reliant, stoic, and capable, while at the same time sensitive, noble, and caring? That's not too bad of a resume. I'm not saying that others are bad, I'm saying that cowboys are good. Now, of course, in civilized terms, "cowboy" is a pejorative. I think that's because of the anti-intellectual connotation, and I certainly wouldn't consider being a cowboy to be a complete life. It's only a stereotype, after all. It's a myth, however, that I think stills bears some usefulness. Especially if you apply some of the reality of being a cowboy to the myth. (For example: Cowboys were, as often as not, Latino day laborers and poor men avoiding their debts by leaving the grid. They weren't, by and large, the square-jawed Anglo Gods they got portrayed as in the movies. So, if you apply that to the myth of the Brave cowboy, you might get the idea that those illegals you fear and despise aren't necessarily bad guys. They're hearty workers trying to do what's right by their families. More than a little rough, they might be dangerous, but they are necessary men.)
I think we should remain modern people, and keep our eyes on reality (the reality-based reality that we can see, feel, taste and hear. Not the "reality" of certain neo-conservatives and Television shows) but try to live up to our myths, just a bit. A real nation of cowboys might not be such a bad thing.
What is a good life? Ever think about it? I do. For example, did you ever notice how many people seem to not want a good life, but a better life? A life that is better than their neighbors, better than their friends' and better than their families'? Like the guy driven to earn more money than his Dad, or the kid determined to have more friends than his enemy does, or the woman who wants to be seen as sexier than her room-mate, or the parents who want their kids to be smarter than their neices and nephews? I'm not trying to decry competition, but i would suggest that such things might spring up, in part, because it's so hard to define what makes up a 'good" life. Is a good life one that is free from illness? Well, apart from being impossible, I don't know if that's true. People with chronic, debilitating diseases still maintain that they think they have a good life. Same thing with poverty, or ugliness. What about love? A life without love isn't very good. People tend to die in early childhood if their parents do not love them. But, at the same time, lots of people have gone for a time without any love in their lives. No parents, no siblings, no friends, and yet, they eventually come around, and appreciate their lives, and come to think of their lives as good. Meanwhile, there are many, many very well loved suicides. These are people who decided that their lives included nothing good at all, and yet, they were loved.
It's a mystery to me, i'll admit. I don't know what a good life would be. But, I do know that life, in and of itself, is good. I suspect that what makes life "good' changes from moment to moment, depending upon what needs I have. When it gets cold, life is good when i have a warm coat. When I am lonely, life is good when I have a friend. When I feel a craving for guacamole, life is good when I find a ripe avocado. It's always changing. So, all I can do is wonder what a good life would be...
