The System of Freedom
I believe in a non-interventionist God who set the world in motion (with the big bang), and left us to it. Thus evolution and science as we know it. This is not definitively an impersonal God, as some would have you believe, nor is it the very personal, and, in my opinion, flawed God of many major religious sects. This God prioritises, above all things, our independence, our ability to make conscious choices, essentially, our free will, which forms the foundation of our world. Assuming the philosophical conception of God as the greatest possible being, or supreme being etc., and putting aside, for the moment, the problems of the omnipotence paradox etc., we know that God could interfere. But I believe he will never choose to, as any interference would be an imbalance of the system he has created. Thus we are free to live our lives as we choose, to divorce ourselves from him, or to attempt (and inevitably fail) to understand him.
A Personal Relationship
Some would argue that this does leave us in the dark about an absolute morality, but I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. When people believe they have some kind of access to absolute morality, they tend to enforce it on other people, frequently at the other end of weapons. For thousands of years, organised religion has been a tool of mass social manipulation, arguably outweighing all the good it has done in that time, which is yet another reason that deists typically eschew it, and promote religion as a personal relationship between you and God, a relationship no one but God (and you) has the right to tell you how to conduct.
Derived Morality
For the very reason we have free will, we don't have access to absolute morality, which necessitates a certain course of action. Good is valueless without the capacity for evil. Right is meaningless with the possibility of wrong. If God had given us a scripture, a "how to" guide, would we genuinely be able to resist it? I think not. Which is one reason (of many) that deists typically reject the notion of scripture, not just because it signals intervention, but because true scripture would be undeniable, and thus negate free will. Much greater, I believe, is a system that allows us to use our evolved characteristics, of intelligence, rationality, compassion, social interaction etc. to derive moralities and ethics from the world we see around us, not least the capacity to tolerate moralities that diverge from our own.
An Afterlife
I'm not sure what happens after we die. No one can know until it actually happens. I believe in the possibility of a Heaven, that is closeness to or even oneness with God, and a Hell, separation from God, to know that you were wrong in life and so will be eternally apart from a source of infinite love (could there be a greater punishment?). I don't know whether they exist. They need not. A system where our lives are simply observed, without punishment or reward beyond this world is not inconceivable - how many scientists set up experiments just to see what happens? How many of them punish the people or things in those experiments for defying their expectations? It's not necessary. Just because you can't conceive of the alternative (which, by the way, is called the argument from ignorance, in logical terms), doesn't make such a conception necessarily true. Which feeds back in to the concept of us having a purpose. I think our purpose it so be the best us we can be, and part of that is figuring out what "best" is. Is that so hard to believe? Even with scripture, no one agrees on the perfect Christian or the perfect Muslim or even the perfect atheist.
Satan
I don't believe in Satan. I think it's ridiculous, a nonsense idea cooked up by children for children when mankind was younger, and needed a boogey man to keep people on their toes. There's no reason or substance, logical, metaphysical or otherwise, for a being whose sole purpose is to corrupt humanity. We're more than capable of doing that ourselves, without any outside help, precisely because of our free will. Satan was invented by people who can't face up to the depravity of man and his choices, especially their own. It's a way of shifting the blame, personally and from humanity as a whole. At least, that is my belief, and it is empirically explicable.
Problematic Premises
To keep referring to beliefs, to what literally cannot be proven, as fact, is the definition of self-righteousness, the inability to question the truth of your own beliefs. And on what basis do the self-righteous do so? Books written hundreds of years ago? People who died before most of modern technology was invented? Faith is not fact. All systems require faith, science included, even if only at the fundamental starting level. But any good system requires the awareness and maturity to accept that its basic beliefs and premises might be wrong, and to phrase them as such, and then, and only then, argue logically from premises to conclusions. There are many extremely problematic premises with traditional organised religions, such as the necessary validity of scripture, the validity and necessity of the any particular conception of a supreme being, the validity of Jesus, Muhahmmad and others as prophets, that our conception of what is reasonable or fair in any way corresponds to God's etc. There are problems too with conclusions that do not follow from their premises, such as the existence of evil necessitating the existence of Satan (a classic case of affirming the consequent), or that the lack of contradictions in the Qur'an would necessitate its truth.
Belief is Not Knowledge
Those who cannot step back from their conviction and the strength of their faith and realise that no one, not they, not I, no Imam, priest, rabbi, trappist, atheist, scientist or philosopher has all the answers, will be doomed to patronise, to speak from a position of unjustified and assumed authority, to make the same logical mistakes over and over. Belief is not knowledge. No one knows that a God exists. You literally can't, it is a physical, mental and logical impossibility, provable by recourse to basic principles. I have respect for those faithful who acknowledge their own ignorance, who hold that vestige of doubt somewhere in their minds which prevents them from seeing the world in absolutes, in black and white. Those who fail to do this assume an authority to which they have no right, and the good that might come from it will be far outweighed by the bad - they will be destined to bring a bad name upon not just their particular religion, but all believers.
Zealotry and its Dangers
To believe 100%, entirely, utterly, and without even the slightest element of doubt is not belief. That is zealotry. You should only believe something that you absolutely, 100% know to be true (something I believe applies only to the cogito), and, as stated above, it is categorically impossible to know the existence of God. To show you how highly I hold the importance of doubt, even as I typed that, I considered it, wondered whether there might be some future information or logical formulation which might disprove it. But I am 99.9% confident, on the basis of my (and generally accepted premises), that it is the case. The arrogance of such belief is breath-taking - to assume that you know something which is definitively unknowable. Even without all of the dangers that brings - suicide bombings, honour killings, the death penalty, persecution, exclusivity, social manipulation, war, the ends justifying the means etc. - there can be no reasoning with someone who is that convinced of their own superiority.
Interpretation
Who's to say that our capacity for reason, be it naturally evolved (as I believe) or God-given, is not the 'guidance' God intended for us, be it sufficient or not? If you answer "because people come to different conclusions", then I will point you in the direction of the thousands of interpretations of each of any scripture. How do you know which of them is right? Is there one, unchallenged view of any holy book? Can you even side with the majority opinion for probability's sake, given the countless number of times in the Abrahamic scriptures at least, that minorities and those chosen by God are persecuted and suffer, despite being right? Do you think language is a perfect tool, that scriptures and words are never ambiguous, or contradictory? How then can you so blindly trust in a scripture, so boldly assume your or any given interpretation to be correct? If you mess up and misinterpret, would you not find yourself standing before your God, at the end of the day, and saying "I did what I thought you wanted"?
A Nation of Thinkers
So that I not be accused of simply undermining a position without proffering one of my own, I believe that, as I said, we have the ability to come to terms with God. First is choosing whether to believe in the existence of a supreme being or not. Secondly, assuming we choose the former, is trying to divine what kind of being that is - personally, I have used an amalgam of logic and faith, attempting to combine science, religion and philosophy, which lands me in the camp of deism. But this is, again, an impossible task, since a supreme being is definitively unknowable (within my premises, at any rate, which are generally accepted). Thirdly, to try and work out how such a being as we believe to exist would like us to live, and to try to live that way. You might say it's wishy-washy, indecisive, egotistical even, as open to misuse and self-justification as organised religion or any other system. But better a nation of thinkers than a colony of fools. Absolutism is usually the recourse of those who cannot see shades of grey, only black and white. It's considered dangerous for a reason. Only God can be absolute, can have access to absolute knowledge. To doubt is human - I can brook no God who could not forgive even the slightest doubt, for then he would have set us up only for us to fall down.
Action and Contemplation
I am not espousing an entirely relativist position (for I believe the cogito absolutely), nor am I saying that every single action must be analysed before being taken. But absolute belief, absolute conviction and certainty, can only lead to action, and never contemplation. And aren't there times when a little more contemplation and a little slower action might have benefited us? Can anyone honestly say they've never made the mistake of rushing in, thinking, even "knowing" at the time that they were absolutely right, and only later realising how wrong they were? That is what absolutism brings. Except real absolutism does not even cover the possibility of later acknowledging your own mistakes, a problem clearly visible with Papal Infallibility.
Working it Out for Ourselves
In short, I believe that God might exist without giving us "warnings or messengers to convey the truth", because I believe he knows, firstly, that absolute truth is inaccessible to us anyway, or that, if we had access to it, it would be undeniable, which would negate free will, and, secondly, because I believe he thinks we can and should work it out for ourselves. You might disagree, and that's your right. But at least my system incorporates the intrinsic belief, perhaps even knowledge, that I might be wrong. And the worst my wishy washiness can do is so much less than what absolutism can do. At worst, I am slow to act, or even never address certain problems. Absolutism can literally end the world.
Motherly Love
There are two main conceptions, perhaps extremes, of motherly love. There are mothers who coddle and micromanage every aspect of their child's lives, fighting their battles for them, teaching them exactly how to live and what to believe in every situation. I hate those mothers. They think they are doing what's best for their children, which is creditable, but if they took time to think about it, they would probably realise that instead, they have suffocated their child, made them dependent, clones of themselves, or smothered them to the point of rebellion.
Free Will is Fundamental
The other kind of mother works in general principles and broad brushstrokes, covering the basics, but essentially giving the child the skills they need to allowing them to develop freely, to become what they want to be, relying on the world to teach them the harsher lessons and punish their transgressions, and to be there to pick up the pieces when it does. Of course, this too is open to debate – respect for independence can easily be rephrased as negligence or disinterest, and suffocation as a deeper, more time-consuming and selfless love, depending on your point of view. But I will gladly debate the point, for I genuinely believe that the best mothers also know how and when to let go. That is the kind of mother I had, for which I am most thankful. And that is the kind of mother I believe God to be, one who respects our independence enough to allow us to make our own mistakes, discover our own paths and moralities and restrictions and rights and wrongs. Does it hurt God to see us go wrong? Of course it does. Are we always punished for it? No, not in this life, at any rate. But that is the freedom and the joy of the system he designed for us. Free will is fundamental.
God is Not an Interfering Mother
Not eating pork and shellfish and all the other absurd dietary stuff like halal and kosher made sense in the desert 2000 years ago, when there were serious health risks. But it was clearly a cultural thing that was tacked on to a religious document to give it significance and authority, which over time has come to be imbued with religious significance. A God who's going to make something edible and then tell you not to eat it makes no sense. To interfere to such an absurdly detailed level is what the interfering mother does. In short, it's a nonsense.
A Little Insight
I still ask forgiveness. When I mess up, I apologise to the people around me. And I have a pretty regular dialogue going on with the big guy upstairs - one way, of course, which probably technically makes it not a dialogue, but, if nothing else, it can help me organise my thoughts. As for right and wrong, I don't claim to have access to any absolute morality, as I've said, and I don't think anyone who does should be believed or trusted. But I do believe I have a system which follows from premises to conclusions, which accepts philosophy, science and faith, prioritising none above the others, which avoids the self-righteous excesses of absolutism and the crippling uncertainty of total relativism. I have condensed these thoughts here, from a discussion, for any who are interested. I hope you found at least a little insight.
Saturday, 5 February 2011
Tuesday, 25 January 2011
Maybe this time (I'll win)...
So. This year's Oscar nominees have been announced. You might have been expecting my yearly rant. You still might get it, depending on who does eventually win. But for the first time in a long time, I have hope. Sure I've only seen Toy Story 3, The King's Speech, Inception and The Social Network thus far, and there's a chance that my high levels of anticipation for Black Swan and True Grit might end in disappointment. Sure there's a Danny Boyle film sludging up the nominations - admittedly, I have yet to see 127 Hours, but I doubt even my love for James Franco could redeem the typical Boyle fare: the massively overrated Trainspotting, the mediocre Sunshine, the equally mediocre The Beach, and Slumdog Millionaire, undoubtedly one of the worst films ever to win an Oscar. Sure, there's a creeping dread that Toy Story 3 and Inception feel like honourary nods, ticking the boxes, films that deserve the recognition but can't win because of the Academy's apparent disregard recently for animated films (Up, Wall-E, The Incredibles), Christopher Nolan (Dark Knight), genre films (sci-fi or fantasy) or box office successes (Dark Knight again, Avatar). But... call it a feeling, an intuition, a conjecture, if you will - a deserving film will win the Oscar this year.
As I've argued before, the Academy's bad streak runs some way back. Hurt Locker, Slumdog Millionaire, No Country For Old Men, The Departed, Crash, Million Dollar Baby - it's been an unstoppable deluge of shit. Poorly acted, poorly written, unengaging, overhyped shit, each wholly short of meriting the highest accolade the Hollywood film industry, united under one banner, can bestow. You have to go back to 2003 for the last deserving winner - Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, which, both as a film itself, and as a proxy for the entire trilogy, stood head and shoulders above its competitors that year (Lost in Translation, Master and Commander, Mystic River and Seabiscuit). But this year, I could not begrudge any of the nominees I have seen the victory, nor could I pick between them. And I hold out further hope that those I have yet to see will live up to the same standards. My major excitement is reserved for Black Swan and True Grit, which would push the number of worthy winners to 6 of the 10 nominees (assuming they live up to my expectations), perhaps even 8 at a stretch, if I am surprised by the Fighter and The Kids Are Alright. I profess to know very little about Winter's Bone, which leaves only one remaining objection, in the form of 127 Hours, which, admittedly, I have yet to see. Unfair as that might sound, it is not random - my dislike of Danny Boyle as a filmmaker runs deep, and is based on not inconsiderable viewing experience, hence my joy that he is not included in the best director nods. Based on what I have seen so far, Tom Hooper or David Fincher have equal claim to that prize, just as their leading men (Colin Firth and Jesse Eisenberg respectively) do to the best actor gong. Helena Bonham Carter and Geoffrey Rush are both thoroughly deserving of their supporting nominations, though, having nothing to compare them to as of yet, I can't make a stronger claim than that.
If I had one gripe, it might be that Harry Potter doesn't appear in any of the major nominations. Now it could be that, like with Return of the King, they are simply waiting for the final installment to serve again as proxy, and award a massive and thoroughly well deserved nod to the franchise as a whole. Which would probably be fair enough, if this hadn't been far and away the best directed, acted and arguably written installment so far. I will admit to being slightly inebriated the first time I saw it, partly by the atmosphere of the midnight showing, and partly by some actual mojitos, but it lost absolutely nothing in the second viewing a few days later, and I dare say, perhaps even improved. One can only imagine the seismic force of the cultural event that will be the finale come July 15, an epic imprint of a generational zeitgeist, a moment of which people will later say "I was there". And obviously that anticipation holds some sway, which, again, as I reiterate, makes such reasoning, if that is their reasoning (rather than the dislikes of genre and box office success I listed above), entirely understandable. But it does seem a shame, and perhaps even a minor slap in the face, to not recognise Deathly Hallows Part 1 as an accomplishment on a grand scale, a maturation and change in tone that I hitherto did not credit anyone involved to be capable of achieving, despite my enjoyment of the franchise since the 3rd film.
Regardless, tonight, I am optimistic. I will endeavour to add True Grit and Black Swan at least to my consciousness by the time the night arrives. Perhaps, by then, a stronger contender may emerge from the murky pool of my sentiments and opinions. But, as it stands, there are 4 definitely worthy winners in the running. And that alone is cause for hope.
As I've argued before, the Academy's bad streak runs some way back. Hurt Locker, Slumdog Millionaire, No Country For Old Men, The Departed, Crash, Million Dollar Baby - it's been an unstoppable deluge of shit. Poorly acted, poorly written, unengaging, overhyped shit, each wholly short of meriting the highest accolade the Hollywood film industry, united under one banner, can bestow. You have to go back to 2003 for the last deserving winner - Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, which, both as a film itself, and as a proxy for the entire trilogy, stood head and shoulders above its competitors that year (Lost in Translation, Master and Commander, Mystic River and Seabiscuit). But this year, I could not begrudge any of the nominees I have seen the victory, nor could I pick between them. And I hold out further hope that those I have yet to see will live up to the same standards. My major excitement is reserved for Black Swan and True Grit, which would push the number of worthy winners to 6 of the 10 nominees (assuming they live up to my expectations), perhaps even 8 at a stretch, if I am surprised by the Fighter and The Kids Are Alright. I profess to know very little about Winter's Bone, which leaves only one remaining objection, in the form of 127 Hours, which, admittedly, I have yet to see. Unfair as that might sound, it is not random - my dislike of Danny Boyle as a filmmaker runs deep, and is based on not inconsiderable viewing experience, hence my joy that he is not included in the best director nods. Based on what I have seen so far, Tom Hooper or David Fincher have equal claim to that prize, just as their leading men (Colin Firth and Jesse Eisenberg respectively) do to the best actor gong. Helena Bonham Carter and Geoffrey Rush are both thoroughly deserving of their supporting nominations, though, having nothing to compare them to as of yet, I can't make a stronger claim than that.
If I had one gripe, it might be that Harry Potter doesn't appear in any of the major nominations. Now it could be that, like with Return of the King, they are simply waiting for the final installment to serve again as proxy, and award a massive and thoroughly well deserved nod to the franchise as a whole. Which would probably be fair enough, if this hadn't been far and away the best directed, acted and arguably written installment so far. I will admit to being slightly inebriated the first time I saw it, partly by the atmosphere of the midnight showing, and partly by some actual mojitos, but it lost absolutely nothing in the second viewing a few days later, and I dare say, perhaps even improved. One can only imagine the seismic force of the cultural event that will be the finale come July 15, an epic imprint of a generational zeitgeist, a moment of which people will later say "I was there". And obviously that anticipation holds some sway, which, again, as I reiterate, makes such reasoning, if that is their reasoning (rather than the dislikes of genre and box office success I listed above), entirely understandable. But it does seem a shame, and perhaps even a minor slap in the face, to not recognise Deathly Hallows Part 1 as an accomplishment on a grand scale, a maturation and change in tone that I hitherto did not credit anyone involved to be capable of achieving, despite my enjoyment of the franchise since the 3rd film.
Regardless, tonight, I am optimistic. I will endeavour to add True Grit and Black Swan at least to my consciousness by the time the night arrives. Perhaps, by then, a stronger contender may emerge from the murky pool of my sentiments and opinions. But, as it stands, there are 4 definitely worthy winners in the running. And that alone is cause for hope.
Monday, 11 October 2010
20 things you need to understand in order to love me
1. I love LOST
2. I am always open to discussion, but you may have to work hard to change my mind
3. I have no filter - I say what I think almost all the time, so honesty is part of the package. I try to be tactful about it, usually, but saying what needs to be said is more important than not hurting someone's feelings.
4. I find it very hard to be anyone but myself.
5. I think about everything... a lot... And I find it hard to switch that off. But I also have a childish side, especially in my sense of humour.
6. I am a spelling/grammar Nazi, and I abuse the ellipsis.
7. I hate not understanding things, or when things don't make sense to me. This includes people.
8. I am a deist - I believe religion is a personal relationship between you and God, and no one has the right to tell you how to conduct that relationship. Obviously, this means I disavow any kind of organised religion, or religious authority on earth. I also believe in a non-interventionist God, who set the ball rolling and left us to it. I don't mind what you believe as long as it doesn't make you act like a douche (racism, homophobia etc.). This does not apply to my friends - it bothers me if my friends believe things that don't make sense to me.
9. I believe philosophy, religion and science are all entirely compatible, and take great issue with any who says otherwise, or those who try and drive a wedge between them (Dawkins, Dennett, the Pope etc.)
10. If I love you, I'll love you totally. Life is too short to be anything but all or nothing. I will not moderate myself. I am intense and passionate, and I see that as a strength. If you try to tell me it's a weakness, you have not understood.
11. I enjoy public displays of affection.
12. I cannot separate the emotional and the physical. If I feel deeply for you emotionally, as friends or more, it will show physically.
13. I love Radio 4 comedy, and Douglas Adams Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy trilogy in 5 parts. If you do not understand these things and why I love them, you will never understand me.
14. I am a perfectionist, and I will not settle. I have 4 equally important categories of compatibility I need from friends, and especially from relationships, that I will not and cannot compromise on - emotional, intellectual, physical, spiritual. Heart, mind, body, soul. Being attracted to someone is not enough. Sometimes, even love is not enough.
15. I do not do things by halves, and am drawn to hyperbole. I usually love or hate things, especially in the aesthetic sense.
16. I do not care about some things most people find important, like cleanliness, or being accepted by the majority.
17. I believe that human beings are animals that have survived and prospered because of our ability and propensity to judge, and to deny this is foolish. So I will judge someone on their appearance. What makes someone judgemental is an unwillingness to revise such judgements on the basis of new information, or to act on them prematurely. In other words, I love a good bitch.
18. I swear. A lot. I also refer to people as dude or sweetheart most of the time. If either of these things offends you, live with it, or go fuck yourself, sweetheart :P
19. I don't believe in unconditional love. I think it is morally incoherent to love someone unconditionally, no matter how they behave. Love should have to be earnt, and should never be taken for granted. This is why I prefer cats to dogs.
20. I'm the sort of person who believes that you shouldn't knock something before you've tried it, for the most part - if I criticise something, I want to do it from a position of knowledge and strength, to be able to say I've tried it and it's not for me.
2. I am always open to discussion, but you may have to work hard to change my mind
3. I have no filter - I say what I think almost all the time, so honesty is part of the package. I try to be tactful about it, usually, but saying what needs to be said is more important than not hurting someone's feelings.
4. I find it very hard to be anyone but myself.
5. I think about everything... a lot... And I find it hard to switch that off. But I also have a childish side, especially in my sense of humour.
6. I am a spelling/grammar Nazi, and I abuse the ellipsis.
7. I hate not understanding things, or when things don't make sense to me. This includes people.
8. I am a deist - I believe religion is a personal relationship between you and God, and no one has the right to tell you how to conduct that relationship. Obviously, this means I disavow any kind of organised religion, or religious authority on earth. I also believe in a non-interventionist God, who set the ball rolling and left us to it. I don't mind what you believe as long as it doesn't make you act like a douche (racism, homophobia etc.). This does not apply to my friends - it bothers me if my friends believe things that don't make sense to me.
9. I believe philosophy, religion and science are all entirely compatible, and take great issue with any who says otherwise, or those who try and drive a wedge between them (Dawkins, Dennett, the Pope etc.)
10. If I love you, I'll love you totally. Life is too short to be anything but all or nothing. I will not moderate myself. I am intense and passionate, and I see that as a strength. If you try to tell me it's a weakness, you have not understood.
11. I enjoy public displays of affection.
12. I cannot separate the emotional and the physical. If I feel deeply for you emotionally, as friends or more, it will show physically.
13. I love Radio 4 comedy, and Douglas Adams Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy trilogy in 5 parts. If you do not understand these things and why I love them, you will never understand me.
14. I am a perfectionist, and I will not settle. I have 4 equally important categories of compatibility I need from friends, and especially from relationships, that I will not and cannot compromise on - emotional, intellectual, physical, spiritual. Heart, mind, body, soul. Being attracted to someone is not enough. Sometimes, even love is not enough.
15. I do not do things by halves, and am drawn to hyperbole. I usually love or hate things, especially in the aesthetic sense.
16. I do not care about some things most people find important, like cleanliness, or being accepted by the majority.
17. I believe that human beings are animals that have survived and prospered because of our ability and propensity to judge, and to deny this is foolish. So I will judge someone on their appearance. What makes someone judgemental is an unwillingness to revise such judgements on the basis of new information, or to act on them prematurely. In other words, I love a good bitch.
18. I swear. A lot. I also refer to people as dude or sweetheart most of the time. If either of these things offends you, live with it, or go fuck yourself, sweetheart :P
19. I don't believe in unconditional love. I think it is morally incoherent to love someone unconditionally, no matter how they behave. Love should have to be earnt, and should never be taken for granted. This is why I prefer cats to dogs.
20. I'm the sort of person who believes that you shouldn't knock something before you've tried it, for the most part - if I criticise something, I want to do it from a position of knowledge and strength, to be able to say I've tried it and it's not for me.
Monday, 24 May 2010
Closure
Everything ends
Someday, everything ends
The trees
The beach
The rocks your world is built on
Everything ends
...
All at once, or piece by piece
They break apart
And float...
Until the world runs out
Everything ends
...
Sometimes the pieces are loved anew
Part of another world, in turn rubbed out by time
We are all pencil on a page
Dust on the stage
...
Everything ends
Everything we love
Everything we touch
Fruit, cars, atom bombs
...
Memory
The swelling of strings
Petrol fumes
Tears, and joy
Everything
Meaning
Love
Lines in the sand
Everything
.
.
.
Ends
Everything ends
Someday, everything ends
The trees
The beach
The rocks your world is built on
Everything ends
...
All at once, or piece by piece
They break apart
And float...
Until the world runs out
Everything ends
...
Sometimes the pieces are loved anew
Part of another world, in turn rubbed out by time
We are all pencil on a page
Dust on the stage
...
Everything ends
Everything we love
Everything we touch
Fruit, cars, atom bombs
...
Memory
The swelling of strings
Petrol fumes
Tears, and joy
Everything
Meaning
Love
Lines in the sand
Everything
.
.
.
Ends
Thursday, 20 May 2010
Mad Abbott The Girl
We’re all doomed if politicians can’t empathise with people from other backgrounds. One person can never cover all the bases, but only one person can hold any one seat at a time. We don't expect authors or songwriters to have lived every story they tell, or painters to have seen every scene they paint. And yet many people expect such identity of politicians. This is, perhaps, the biggest problem – the constant assumption by many, not least the electorate en masse, that only someone who has experienced what they have experienced is capable or qualified to represent or understand them, hence the illogical and unnecessary continuation of tribalistic vitriol against 'posh boys' and 'toffs' on the one hand and 'council house denizens' on the other. We are not automatic products of our backgrounds or our skin colours or our genders – of course they affect us, but they are not dominating, nor do they produce necessary and unavoidable results.
The reason I'm discussing this at all is because of the decision, or rather the manner of justification for the decision, of Diane Abbott to run for the Labour Party Leadership, as covered by the BBC and the Guardian (twice). What's at stake in this discussion is not her candidature - I welcome any and all people who genuinely believe they can be the best person for the job, although I do not think she would be anything like a competent or electable leader. What is worrying are some of her reasons for running and what they seem to imply about her opposition. Here is a sample:
"The other candidates are all nice and would make good leaders of the Labour Party but they all look the same... We cannot be offering a slate of candidates who all look the same. The Labour Party's much more diverse than that."
"We can't go forward with a leadership debate where there is no woman"
"If we are going to have a debate about immigration, I am the child of immigrants. Don't the millions of British people who are the children of immigrants have a voice in this debate also?"
Firstly, the children of immigrants already have two voices in the debate - the Miliband brothers are both (obviously) the product of fugitives of Nazi occupation in Ralph Miliband and his Polish wife. This is, of course, personal conjecture, but such a remarkable lack of knowledge in regards to her opposition for the role highlights a patronising arrogance and an ignorance which is too often and too easily on show for even casual viewers of This Week. Indeed, her willingness to put her foot in her mouth, notably in regard to the apparent impossibility of empathic Finnish nurses, is just one of the reasons I believe her to be a hypocrite (along with the well-known schools debacle), and unsuitable for anything beyond representing her constituency. The crux of her eventual apology on the matter - that her main priority was to ensure that her constituents received medical treatment from the very best people "irrespective of race" - is ironically the very point I am making.
But the real deal-breaker in her comments is the implication that only she, as a woman, can speak for or represent women voters, and that only she, as a black person, can do the same for black people. I’ve touched on similar issues before in talking about the black vote in relation to Obama, and the woman’s vote for Hillary. But it is always dangerous to talk about the black vote or the woman’s vote – it implies mass voting blocks, and just the sort of social, racial or gender determinism that I am refuting. No one is denying that different people are hard-wired differently - there is almost certainly a probabilistic trend for black candidates to understand black issues and female candidates women’s issues, and it is also probable (right or wrong, and I would definitely argue wrong) that people identify more with people who share their background or race or gender. But I know plenty of public school products who would rather have Gordon Brown than David Cameron any day. Anecdotal evidence it may be, but it is also empirically observable in the difficulty of marking any clear trends amongst general voter blocks (like the young vote, the black vote etc.).
We must, absolutely must, move towards the realisation that probability is not the issue. We must judge candidates on what they say and what they do – their propositions, their policies, their interactions. To assume that just because someone comes from a particular background – and this applies as much to the results of working class, comprehensive upbringings as silver-spoon, public school boys – that they will automatically hold a certain set of beliefs or be incapable of understanding people from other walks of life is exactly the sort of poisonous idiocy that fuels the tribalism that is miring British politics. This is especially obvious in light of the fact that MPs ultimately serve their constituents, and must come to understand and identify with problems that would never factor into their personal life or their personal politics. If this were impossible, or even improbable, MPs would rarely, if ever, be re-elected. In essence, we must listen to what candidates actually say, rather than what we expect them to say. Do not judge on what is likely, judge on what is.
One of the other problems I have already encountered with Abbott’s stand is how quickly valid criticisms are perceived, in the light of paranoia, as the thinly-veiled barbs of discrimination. Although it remains to be seen whether Abbott herself will do so, many of her supporters have already pulled the race or gender card in response to any suggestion that the Hackney MP is not all sweetness and light. This false expectation of bigotry and enemies all around is just as damaging to the cause of racial equality as those, like the BNP, who actually display it – we should be moving to a point where, insofar as possible, race and gender are irrelevant. Accusations to the contrary only serve to highlight the differences, and is exactly the sort of fuel on which xenophobia thrives. It should be hoped, therefore, that such idiocy is kept to a minimum, to allow the true flow of debate to continue unshackled by fear of unjust allegations.
It may be the case that, in the coming weeks, it becomes apparent from the nomination debates that all the current candidates other than Abbott (Ed and Dave Miliband, Ed Balls, Andy Burnham and the intriguing John McDonnell) are entirely incapable of representing or understanding women or black people, in which case, her comments may be somewhat vindicated. And it may be that she is simply playing to the sad realities of the irrationality of people's existing prejudices in putting greater faith and expecting greater understanding from their own kind. But the former seems unlikely, certainly from what I have heard from the Milibands at any rate, and the latter, if true, I would call cynical in the extreme (though doubtless some would simply label it realistic). Either way, whatever positives may come out of Abbott's candidature (pushing the debate further to the left, apparently re-energising some of the supporter base), they are overshadowed, for me, by a rather inauspicious start. Like her vomit-inducing hypocrisy, it leaves rather a bad taste in the mouth...
Sunday, 9 May 2010
List of the Month: April 2010
Song of the Month:
Yet another I've basically not been able to stop listening to, partly because it's a collaboration between two of my absolute favourite artists, and partly because it's just a great song. Alicia Keys and John Mayer's Lesson Learned is a beautiful synthesis of styles and instruments: as you would expect, it's Keys on the piano, providing sparse chords, a heart-rendingly simple riff in the verse and a beautiful soundscape, and Mayer on the guitar, bringing the rhythm, groove and the killer chorus hook, not to mention occasional and tasteful fills that make you realise how enviable his tone is. Vocally, John mostly sings the BVs to Alicia's passionate and honest assessment of a situation we've all been in, somehow managing never to spill into the sentimental.
A massive shout out actually has to go to the drummer (not sure which, but one of Steve Jordan, Trevor Lawrence Jr, or Mark Robohm) - because the song and instrumentation is so sparse and full of pauses and hangs, it really highlights the drums, which carry the momentum of the song, especially through the verses. A really simple drum pattern can sometimes be the hardest thing to play, especially with the precision and sensitivity required by this kind of track, but this is really a perfect performance. The song was rightfully nominated for Best Pop Collaboration with vocals at the 2009 Grammy awards, unjustly losing out to Robert Plant and Alison Krauss's frankly baffling Rich Woman. In my opinion, a song of this rare quality deserves recognition beyond a single Grammy nomination, but for now, I can only add my recommendation to the pile.
Film of the Month:
Continuing in my drive to see all 10 of the Best Picture nominees this year, so I can know for certain just how overrated Hurt Locker has been (and believe me, it has been), I caught up with both The Blind Side and Up In The Air this month, leaving only An Education on the list. It was a close call, but I'm definitely going to have to go with The Blind Side. Up In The Air is a thought-provoking, engaging, and beautifully acted piece, and in another year could well have walked away with a deserved Oscar (over Slumdog Millionaire or No Country For Old Men, for example), but this year it was simply outshone by one of the best films I have seen in at least the last 5 years.
Part of the power of The Blind Side is that it's based on the true story of Michael Oher. Playing on my and many Americans' love for American Football, the story shows us the rise of Oher from essentially homeless dropout to NFL athlete. The film is not shot in a documentary way, but knowledge of the reality behind the film colours one's entire perception of events, bringing new meaning and life to what otherwise might be forgettable or dull moments and aiding the suspension of disbelief with what otherwise might be unbelievable or stretching the bounds of credibility. More than once I found myself choking back tears, not least as Sandra Bullock delivers what is undoubtedly the performance of a lifetime as Leigh Anne, for which she deservedly won the Best Actress Oscar. Her unexpectedly nuanced performance and pitch-perfect depiction of the go-getting, Southern Belle, ex-cheerleader-cum-soccer mom is surprisingly almost matched by Tim McGraw, whom I had known only as a country music artist and husband of Faith Hill. Perhaps that life experience prepared him well for taking the backseat to a somewhat domineering wife, but his performance is no less impressive for it.
Alongside Bullock, the true star of the show is of course Quinton Aaron, in the role of Michael, or Big Mike. Considering his relatively meagre acting experience up this point (this is his first lead role), Aaron delivers a credible and understated performance of such quality, I could scarcely believe he wasn't born in front of a director and a camera. Excellent supporting roles from little brother SJ (Jae Head) and Collins (the gorgeous Lily Collins), not to mention the various teachers, family members of both Michael's and the Tuohys', gang thugs and insufferable lunch friends add up to complete an utterly convincing and engaging world where the characters live and interact and where actions have true and proportionate consequences. For all this heavy subject matter, there is ample humour, much of it provided by SJ or, unwittingly, Michael himself, and again, this perfectly reflects the unpredictable and bittersweet capriciousness of life, where you can be laughing one minute and crying the next.
The lion's share of the character development is shared between him and Bullock, as the film fundamentally is the story of their relationship - the transformation from uneducated, lumbering quasi-mute to the man comfortable calling Bullock mama, standing up for himself under interrogation, and singing along to Bust-A-Move with his adopted brother is marked but entirely realistic, a stark contrast to many Hollywood films where people change overnight or even in the space of a few hours. In real life, people don't change, not really, not much and not often. When they do, the changes are more minor or subtle, mostly occurring during times of great stress and external change (puberty, adulthood, marriage etc.). This kind of realism is perfectly captured by writer Michael Lewis and screenplaywright and director John Lee Hancock over the 2 year timeframe of the film. They are, of course, helped by the truth behind the story, but rarely if ever do they overstep their remit and fall into the inviting but sugar-coated trappings of Hollywood melodrama.
Some friends of mine have commented that the film is patronising, both to its audience and to the black community portrayed within it. Personally, I never found this to be the case. The Blind Side never claims to show the entirety of black society, and actually the breadth of characters was quite subtly varied - without giving too much away, there is the janitor Michael is staying with at the beginning of the film who first gets him into the school; there is Michael's birth mother; there is the gangleader but also an obviously reluctant member; the NCAA investigator... I don't think there is an overwhelming stereotype of anyone, black or white: for every good Christian presented in the film, there's a casually racist redneck or a high-society bigot to balance the scales. What I think the film does show is the sense of being trapped felt by so many people from poor backgrounds - in this case black, but not by necessity - and how hard they have to work or lucky they have to be to escape it.
If the film falls down anywhere, it's in an arguably saccharin presentation of Christianity. On the one hand, The Blind Side is an excellent advert for what can be achieved through a strong, loving Christian faith. But such faith is not necessary to act as Leigh Anne did (or does in the film), even though, in her particular case, it was the obvious spur to her behaviour. Obviously long, drawn-out arguments can be had as to whether the good achieved by such Christian action is outweighed by the negatives of organised religion, but that is not the focus of the film, and therefore it should hopefully suffice that I have mentioned it. The Blind Side pretty strongly sets out its stall, blocking any accusations of "white guilt" in a particularly poignant lunch scene, although some might say that even bringing it up is defensive, that the film "doth protest too much".
Regardless, through a combination of superb acting, strong social conscience, faultless realism, humour and heartbreak in good store, and an inspiring message, The Blind Side stands as the best of the 9 Oscar nominees I have seen so far, a film that could, had it existed then, have won Best Picture in any of the last 6 years, with the possible exception of 2006 and Little Miss Sunshine. Avatar may have changed cinema, Up In The Air may have changed the way we look at our world, Inglourious Basterds may even have changed history (or at least rewritten it), but The Blind Side is that special breed of film that will stay with me, and hopefully you, for years to come.
Yet another I've basically not been able to stop listening to, partly because it's a collaboration between two of my absolute favourite artists, and partly because it's just a great song. Alicia Keys and John Mayer's Lesson Learned is a beautiful synthesis of styles and instruments: as you would expect, it's Keys on the piano, providing sparse chords, a heart-rendingly simple riff in the verse and a beautiful soundscape, and Mayer on the guitar, bringing the rhythm, groove and the killer chorus hook, not to mention occasional and tasteful fills that make you realise how enviable his tone is. Vocally, John mostly sings the BVs to Alicia's passionate and honest assessment of a situation we've all been in, somehow managing never to spill into the sentimental.
A massive shout out actually has to go to the drummer (not sure which, but one of Steve Jordan, Trevor Lawrence Jr, or Mark Robohm) - because the song and instrumentation is so sparse and full of pauses and hangs, it really highlights the drums, which carry the momentum of the song, especially through the verses. A really simple drum pattern can sometimes be the hardest thing to play, especially with the precision and sensitivity required by this kind of track, but this is really a perfect performance. The song was rightfully nominated for Best Pop Collaboration with vocals at the 2009 Grammy awards, unjustly losing out to Robert Plant and Alison Krauss's frankly baffling Rich Woman. In my opinion, a song of this rare quality deserves recognition beyond a single Grammy nomination, but for now, I can only add my recommendation to the pile.
Film of the Month:
Continuing in my drive to see all 10 of the Best Picture nominees this year, so I can know for certain just how overrated Hurt Locker has been (and believe me, it has been), I caught up with both The Blind Side and Up In The Air this month, leaving only An Education on the list. It was a close call, but I'm definitely going to have to go with The Blind Side. Up In The Air is a thought-provoking, engaging, and beautifully acted piece, and in another year could well have walked away with a deserved Oscar (over Slumdog Millionaire or No Country For Old Men, for example), but this year it was simply outshone by one of the best films I have seen in at least the last 5 years.
Part of the power of The Blind Side is that it's based on the true story of Michael Oher. Playing on my and many Americans' love for American Football, the story shows us the rise of Oher from essentially homeless dropout to NFL athlete. The film is not shot in a documentary way, but knowledge of the reality behind the film colours one's entire perception of events, bringing new meaning and life to what otherwise might be forgettable or dull moments and aiding the suspension of disbelief with what otherwise might be unbelievable or stretching the bounds of credibility. More than once I found myself choking back tears, not least as Sandra Bullock delivers what is undoubtedly the performance of a lifetime as Leigh Anne, for which she deservedly won the Best Actress Oscar. Her unexpectedly nuanced performance and pitch-perfect depiction of the go-getting, Southern Belle, ex-cheerleader-cum-soccer mom is surprisingly almost matched by Tim McGraw, whom I had known only as a country music artist and husband of Faith Hill. Perhaps that life experience prepared him well for taking the backseat to a somewhat domineering wife, but his performance is no less impressive for it.
Alongside Bullock, the true star of the show is of course Quinton Aaron, in the role of Michael, or Big Mike. Considering his relatively meagre acting experience up this point (this is his first lead role), Aaron delivers a credible and understated performance of such quality, I could scarcely believe he wasn't born in front of a director and a camera. Excellent supporting roles from little brother SJ (Jae Head) and Collins (the gorgeous Lily Collins), not to mention the various teachers, family members of both Michael's and the Tuohys', gang thugs and insufferable lunch friends add up to complete an utterly convincing and engaging world where the characters live and interact and where actions have true and proportionate consequences. For all this heavy subject matter, there is ample humour, much of it provided by SJ or, unwittingly, Michael himself, and again, this perfectly reflects the unpredictable and bittersweet capriciousness of life, where you can be laughing one minute and crying the next.
The lion's share of the character development is shared between him and Bullock, as the film fundamentally is the story of their relationship - the transformation from uneducated, lumbering quasi-mute to the man comfortable calling Bullock mama, standing up for himself under interrogation, and singing along to Bust-A-Move with his adopted brother is marked but entirely realistic, a stark contrast to many Hollywood films where people change overnight or even in the space of a few hours. In real life, people don't change, not really, not much and not often. When they do, the changes are more minor or subtle, mostly occurring during times of great stress and external change (puberty, adulthood, marriage etc.). This kind of realism is perfectly captured by writer Michael Lewis and screenplaywright and director John Lee Hancock over the 2 year timeframe of the film. They are, of course, helped by the truth behind the story, but rarely if ever do they overstep their remit and fall into the inviting but sugar-coated trappings of Hollywood melodrama.
Some friends of mine have commented that the film is patronising, both to its audience and to the black community portrayed within it. Personally, I never found this to be the case. The Blind Side never claims to show the entirety of black society, and actually the breadth of characters was quite subtly varied - without giving too much away, there is the janitor Michael is staying with at the beginning of the film who first gets him into the school; there is Michael's birth mother; there is the gangleader but also an obviously reluctant member; the NCAA investigator... I don't think there is an overwhelming stereotype of anyone, black or white: for every good Christian presented in the film, there's a casually racist redneck or a high-society bigot to balance the scales. What I think the film does show is the sense of being trapped felt by so many people from poor backgrounds - in this case black, but not by necessity - and how hard they have to work or lucky they have to be to escape it.
If the film falls down anywhere, it's in an arguably saccharin presentation of Christianity. On the one hand, The Blind Side is an excellent advert for what can be achieved through a strong, loving Christian faith. But such faith is not necessary to act as Leigh Anne did (or does in the film), even though, in her particular case, it was the obvious spur to her behaviour. Obviously long, drawn-out arguments can be had as to whether the good achieved by such Christian action is outweighed by the negatives of organised religion, but that is not the focus of the film, and therefore it should hopefully suffice that I have mentioned it. The Blind Side pretty strongly sets out its stall, blocking any accusations of "white guilt" in a particularly poignant lunch scene, although some might say that even bringing it up is defensive, that the film "doth protest too much".
Regardless, through a combination of superb acting, strong social conscience, faultless realism, humour and heartbreak in good store, and an inspiring message, The Blind Side stands as the best of the 9 Oscar nominees I have seen so far, a film that could, had it existed then, have won Best Picture in any of the last 6 years, with the possible exception of 2006 and Little Miss Sunshine. Avatar may have changed cinema, Up In The Air may have changed the way we look at our world, Inglourious Basterds may even have changed history (or at least rewritten it), but The Blind Side is that special breed of film that will stay with me, and hopefully you, for years to come.
Tuesday, 13 April 2010
List of the Month: March 2010
Song of the Month:
There have been a few contenders, but I'm going to have to plump for Andrew Gold's Lonely Boy. Not only is it absolutely one of the most impressive live recordings I've heard, but it's also just a cracking song. The syncopation gives it an irresistible groove, and the lyrics definitely have the ring of truth about how lonely it can be as the oldest child. The chorus progression is brilliantly original, and there's so much variation on the theme in the chorus/riff. If all else fails, the chorus is so satisfying to belt out, and the song is surprisingly modern and/or timeless (depending on your viewpoint) - you could definitely hear it on a FIFA soundtrack, or a Hoosiers or Scouting For Girls album.
Film of the Month:
I wasn't able to get out and see Shutter Island, the Wolfman, Legion, or any of the other good looking films around last month. I did catch Precious, which was unrelenting, credible, powerful and another in the list of worthier Oscar winners than the Hurt Locker. But it didn't blow me away as a film or as an experience. Nor did Green Zone, which didn't match its billing as The Kingdom meets Bourne - other than uncovering a conspiracy, there was nothing of Bourne, either the character, the style or the plot, to be found. Also, it is not nearly as thought-provoking or intellectually compelling as the Kingdom, which I have discussed before.
Instead, I'll say that, while not a film, LOST is having probably its best season ever. If either Michael Emerson for (Dr. Linus) or Josh Holloway for (Recon) doesn't win an Emmy, I will be flabbergasted. Perhaps it's just because the final season gives the writers freedom to tie up old mysteries (or not, as the choice may be), and who doesn't love a bit of closure? Perhaps it's because we know there's so little time left that we cherish each episode more, in a heightened sense of viewing. But even the episodes I wasn't blown away by (Ab Aeterno and Happily Ever After) have been loved by my fellow LOSTies, so perhaps this really is the season that has something for everyone.
If you, like me (initially) have only seen sporadic episodes of LOST, and dismissed it, I can promise you it is a show that needs to be watched from the beginning, in as many binges as you can manage. The episodic format is a necessary and obvious constraint of commercial and network television, but the joy of DVDs is that you can bypass it. Give the show its due: start from the top, and keep the faith if a couple of episodes lose your interest - I don't think LOST has ever let me down for more than 3 weeks at a time (though many people take issue with the start of Seasons 3). It truly is one of the greatest shows I've ever seen.
There have been a few contenders, but I'm going to have to plump for Andrew Gold's Lonely Boy. Not only is it absolutely one of the most impressive live recordings I've heard, but it's also just a cracking song. The syncopation gives it an irresistible groove, and the lyrics definitely have the ring of truth about how lonely it can be as the oldest child. The chorus progression is brilliantly original, and there's so much variation on the theme in the chorus/riff. If all else fails, the chorus is so satisfying to belt out, and the song is surprisingly modern and/or timeless (depending on your viewpoint) - you could definitely hear it on a FIFA soundtrack, or a Hoosiers or Scouting For Girls album.
Film of the Month:
I wasn't able to get out and see Shutter Island, the Wolfman, Legion, or any of the other good looking films around last month. I did catch Precious, which was unrelenting, credible, powerful and another in the list of worthier Oscar winners than the Hurt Locker. But it didn't blow me away as a film or as an experience. Nor did Green Zone, which didn't match its billing as The Kingdom meets Bourne - other than uncovering a conspiracy, there was nothing of Bourne, either the character, the style or the plot, to be found. Also, it is not nearly as thought-provoking or intellectually compelling as the Kingdom, which I have discussed before.
Instead, I'll say that, while not a film, LOST is having probably its best season ever. If either Michael Emerson for (Dr. Linus) or Josh Holloway for (Recon) doesn't win an Emmy, I will be flabbergasted. Perhaps it's just because the final season gives the writers freedom to tie up old mysteries (or not, as the choice may be), and who doesn't love a bit of closure? Perhaps it's because we know there's so little time left that we cherish each episode more, in a heightened sense of viewing. But even the episodes I wasn't blown away by (Ab Aeterno and Happily Ever After) have been loved by my fellow LOSTies, so perhaps this really is the season that has something for everyone.
If you, like me (initially) have only seen sporadic episodes of LOST, and dismissed it, I can promise you it is a show that needs to be watched from the beginning, in as many binges as you can manage. The episodic format is a necessary and obvious constraint of commercial and network television, but the joy of DVDs is that you can bypass it. Give the show its due: start from the top, and keep the faith if a couple of episodes lose your interest - I don't think LOST has ever let me down for more than 3 weeks at a time (though many people take issue with the start of Seasons 3). It truly is one of the greatest shows I've ever seen.
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