Search this blog

Monday, May 3, 2010

Reflection 14: Don't Stop Believing

I spent this past weekend reading Krista Tippet's Einstein's God, Weber's Vocation Lectures and Look to Windward. To my surprise, they all kind of complemented each other.

Look to Windward was a fascinating book and it was probably the best way to conclude our semester-long exploration on how to contact beings so different from ourselves. But I guess, how and in what form contact happens is equally important as who should carry out the initial contact. I guess, I will therefore have to follow Ellen Arroway's example and assume that if the aliens contact us in the language of science, then we should not talk to them about our prophets at first instance. However, it is possible that in any given circumstance contact may go unnoticed, as in K-pax. Perhaps we have been contacted many years ago and given vast amounts of technology well beyond our capabilities and we owe our civilization to a superior civilization. It is also possible that we are being studied and when global warming reaches a certain level, we will be contacted again. In any case we should not actively sit and wait for a contact to take (or not take) place.

I think Weber's Science as a vocation should have been one of the required readings we discussed in class. However, it almost feels as if we read it, for most of what we read and discussed tiptoed around Weber's Science as a Vocation lecture. In his lecture Weber contrasts the American and the German paths in becoming a faculty member, and explains how not every scholar is not a teacher (real story) and proceeds to his discussion about having an inner vocation- the actual subject of his lecture. He submits that "in the realm of science, the only person to have "personality" is the one who is wholly devoted to his subject." Furthermore, one who accepts to wholly devout him/herself to his subject should also accept to become obsolete in the years to come.With every progress, science supersedes itself. What interests me most about Weber's lecture is his conclusion that "the growing process of intellectualization and rationalization (to which he calls the "process of disenchantment")   does not  imply a growing understanding of the conditions under which we live" (12). He takes this point further and says that science is meaningless because "it has no meaning to the only question that matters to us: What shall we do? How shall we live?"(17). Science, according to Weber, can provide us with methods of thought and clarity and comes with its presuppositions (which makes me think of Palmer in Contact). Along with Weber's line of thought, the best possible encounter experience would probably be of D.W. Yarbrough's, given his scholarly attitude of not letting his beliefs to evangelize any aliens. So I think, I wouldn't mind having D.W. in a potential crew.

I really enjoyed taking this class, and I am looking forward to next semester when I'll be taking changing views of the universe. Hopefully, I will be presented other opportunities to spend more time studying social science fiction.

 Take away lessons from this semester? Here are a couple:
1. We cannot isolate ourselves from outside world, because we are surrounded.
2. We cannot isolate ourselves from ourselves, because there is no escape.
3. Communication or understanding is no panacea for conflict. 
4. Final frontier is none other than the walls of our own imagination.


I'll leave you with two quotes:

Faith consists in believing when it is beyond the power of reason to believe.
 ~ Voltaire
 Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away. 
~ Philip K. Dick

Don't stop believing.
Ciao.

Look No Further

I guess I liked Look to Windward, for the same reason I liked Caprica: I am really fond of the idea of being able leave a little bit of me after I die. And when I say "die," I mean experiencing a physical death not a spiritual / mental death. However, I have to agree with Phil that, soulkeepers are not holding the authentic copy. Back in high school when I was preparing for my art exam, one of the exercises I had to go through was "repetition & variation." I remember drawing a number of apples, from different angles, different techniques and etc. Ultimately what I was drawing was the same apple but in each trial I was capturing a small nuance. So I think, I agree with Phil that the soulkeepers are exposed to some form of variation with every form they come to contain.

I have been hooked on this mind/body split since the Sparrow and I read a chapter in Krista Tippet's new book Einstein's God over this weekend where Dr. Mehmet Oz was talking about healing process being a mental and a physical process, and how one's close relatives can play just as an important role in the healing process as science/medication itself. He proposes that the mind and body need to be healed simultaneously, and in different ways. Only then a patient can achive the "maximum healing," he says.

I also found amazing how in Look to Windward, humans are capable of creating planets. I think the universe that we were introduced to in this book was ultimately the most fast-paced and dynamic one. I am quite settled with the existence of Hub though, I do not know what to make of it. I do not know if I should feel more bad about its existence or its destruction. The system in The Culture has become so self-sustained, and so self-centered, and so ever lasting that the inhabitants of the Culture are doing all sorts of wacky things with their lives--because they can. Though book does not say anything, the only reason why Culture works so well is because every inhabitant of the Culture has an endless faith in the system and they put their trust in the mighty Culture. Is it possible that the Hub would like to harm its components?  How does it work for assasins? Do we need to think as if they are sacrificing their bodies for the sake of their minds (i.e. ideologies)? Would mind want to kill its body, then? Perhaps with every near death experience of its inhabitants, the hub might be dying a hundread time.

Funny, that's probably how my Mac feels everytime I run 50 different apps simultaneously on it.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Patterns and Protocol

I really enjoyed Look to Windward. Tons of aliens, plots, intrigue, and not just floating continents, but living floating continents. It feels like I'm reading the novelization of some Prog Rock concept album, and I mean that in the best possible way.

I was happy to find a story set outside of the human perspective, but I also found it intriguing how human everyone sounded. I find it amusing that most intelligent species seem to develop following the same basic patterns of milestones: "to flourish, make contact, develop, expand, reach a steady state and then eventually Sublime was more or less the equivalent of the stellar Main Sequence for civilizations" 198. Even though humans arrived late to the party, to join the galactic club of the Involved, it feels as thought they are part of the greater tradition of intelligent races in the universe. I like that feeling.

It does however start to dilute the alienness of anyone in the book. It has been very easy for me to just anthropomorphize these aliens, turning them into humans. I keep having to remind myself that this or that character has three legs. I actually have two different mental images of Quilan, one human and one.... whatever. I think there's a possibility that the sheer number of species in this book could possibly take away from the experience. On a more profound note, it could be instead a dilution of the term "humanity" because that is now just a drop in the bucket of all the aliens out there.

This book makes me wonder how long it would have taken for civil war to break out on Rakhat, or if indeed that sort of cataclysm only happens when "Culture" steps in to make things right

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Reflection 13: What if John 3:16 ∴ E=mc² ?

This week's class was very slow- Just like the book itself. At some point I even questioned if Eifelheim was really a sci-fi book. It read very much like a non-fiction piece with a bit of religion here and a bit of science there. It felt too real to be sci-fi. It can even give you a warm fuzzy feeling by the time you reach Chapter 8, which I have not really expected given Emilio's tragedy, conquest of America and Isaac's song in the previous weeks. Regardless, I'm glad that we got to read about an alien encounter that takes place not in the future, in present but in the past, then gets buried and is deliberately forgotten/ erased. 

It is clear from the book that these aliens have a social hierarchy and believe in ascribed status, with very little social mobility. They look at humans and as they "learn" from (or shall I say "as they listen to") Dietrich and learn about how peasants kill their Lords, Hans explains how he finds such an incident "unnatural" (142). When Hans explains, or rather tries to explain what is natural for them, Dietrich starts imagining foul couplings with beasts and wonders how monsterous creatures could be born out of such pairing. Right before Chapter 3, we see Hans and Dietrich fleding from each other. As it was mentioned in class, it is very much unclear if the Krenken and the Humans truly understand each other after this point on. In fact, they probably did not understand each other prior this point either. Language is a big obstacle in communication, but there are bigger obstacles between the Krenken and the Humans... the obstacle of form and spirit. 

If we consider language  as means of material exchange of thoughts, it is obvious that the Krenken and the Germantown people are unable to communicate. By learning about the social system of Oberhochwald (which was the feudal system based on religion), I think the Krenken tried to slip into the mind of Dietrich to understand him, and his references better. Or perhaps...Eifelheim was a social science research area for the Krenken. Maybe the converts were merely conducting a participant observation to get inide the heads of the humans?

Additionally, as for the the formulation of John 3:16 // E=mc² on the board, Aaron and I thought it might be interesting to modify the statement into John 3:16 ∴ E=mc², to indicate a causal relationship. Religious stories, myths and miracles have inspired many scientists to try and look for real answers after all. Maybe religion should exist to create more questions, than answers and science should exist to create more answers than questions. So, they might go hand in hand...cohabitate just like Tom and Sharon.

A Common Understanding

What exactly am I supposed to take out of this book, I do not know. In fact, I did not know where the story was going as I read the book. It almost resembled a subtle tragedy taking place not only in 14th century Germany, but also between Tom and Sharon. I think at this point my focus is well beyond "monks and aliens," or  "theoretical physics of unexplainable" and more on Tom and Sharon. I think I am more interested in their relationship, for I think their marriage can explain the alien, human interaction that took place in Eifelheim as well as the 12th dimension.

I think Tom and Sharon's marriage is a modern day tragedy- or rather a modern day phenomenon of two different people living together under the same roof. Sharon understands only a little bit of Tom's historical research and Tom only perceives a little bit of Sharon's discovery. They are both after more proof, more evidence to support their ground-breaking discoveries but we never see what happens. Take Dietrich to be Sharon and consider Tom as a Krenk: Voila, the perfect depiction of paenes ( almost, in latin) understanding and yet being able to share the same roof and space. They almost speak different language to each other. Does it matter that we understand?

To understand, to internalize an input, analyze and put away or to do something about it. With this course I am now less sure about my understanding of anything. Maybe it so happens that we think differently, and we love differently and what holds us together in some cases is a bed, a house, a common area or simply put: a common understanding. I am not sure what that common understanding between Dietrich and the Krenken was.

Tackling the mass-energy equivalence & John 3:16

The comparison, if it could be said to be a comparison, between the mass-energy equivalence equation and John 3:16 that Professor Jackson posed is an interesting one. With due consideration given to all the factors in play regarding these subjects, one could argue semantics over this comparison for days on end without reaching a consensus. As such, let us first make a few distinctions between the two of these subjects.

The mass-energy equivalence equation is a scientific concept. This is to say, it has been investigated through scientific method through which the evidence was observable, empirical, and measurable, and also subject to specific reasoning. Thusly, because reasoning and empirical evidence is capable of "connecting the dots", let us say that the mass-energy equivalence equation is metonymic inasmuch as the data can be proven to be directly related to one another.

John 3:16 states: "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life" (KJV). One may observe that several pieces of data are incapable of being metonymically proven, nor are they metonymically (or causally) observable, empirical, or measurable. Specific reasoning may be used to subjectively validate the notion that whomever believes in Jesus Christ will have everlasting life — however, this notion cannot be said to be verified on the same level of empirical knowledge precisely because: (1) Can we observe everlasting life? No. Due to our own limited lives, this will never be possible. (2) Can we find empirical evidence of everlasting life? No, for the same reasons which answered the previous query. (3) Can we measure everlasting life? No, see previous answers ... and even more pertinent: (4) Can we observe and measure empirical evidence of belief in metonymic measurements? Definitively, the answer is that we cannot. Only metaphoric reasoning can give a sense of truthfulness to the claim that, by believing in the son of God, one may enjoy life everlasting.

The question of the hour is what kind of value do place in truth. In what situations is the truth more desirable? Are there situations in which the truth does not matter as much? The author addresses "truth" in a very interesting way: "Hope may be a greater treasure than truth" (364). That is not to say that truth does not possess value, because it a truth is being claimed with the notion of hope being more valuable than truth, but that truth is, at the same time, sometimes both necessary and unnecessary. In that same passage, truth serves the function of affirming that there is something more valuable than truth at that moment in time, and that thing is hope, truth merely serves to verify its own inability to serve a higher purpose than to verify itself.

Reconciling Portrayals of "the Other" as "the Beast"

Even after reading Eifelheim twice, there is a feeling, a response that I quite can't put my finger on. At first, I thought of the feeling as the otherness of the medieval humans. Perhaps this was only enhanced by the contrast being made even more stark by including modern-day human characters such as Tom and Sharon Nagy, whom we, as modern-day readers, are quicker to find affinity with. Then, a quote struck me on the second reading: "Dietrich saw the world suddenly through Krenkish eyes—lost, far from home, neighbors to ominous strangers who could contemplate the killing of their lords, an act incomprehensible, even bestial to them. To Hans, Dietrich was the Beast that Spoke" (139). In that moment, the aliens seem more human in their encounter with humans than the humans do with their encounter with aliens. The Krenkl have their own sense of being-ness, and an ethics in which survival, in being paramount, seems to flow from that as well.

It is fascinating, however, that the author is able to, at least for this reader, stir human feelings for other, sentient beings. Even though the Krenkl are beastly demon-devils in one age, and aliens in another — the embodiment of evil and otherness — certain humans in both ages are able to reconcile these differences. What makes certain human beings, such as Dietrich — and to some extent, Judy — able to reconcile these differences? Dietrich cares for, protects, and nourishes the Krenkl as he would human beings, albeit with more caution, due to the precarious situation that harboring "demons" places him in.

To Dietrich, the "otherness" of these aliens does not supersede their ability to have thoughts, feelings, and emotions — even a sense of humor which is not otherworldly. These are the traits of sentient beings, and the presence of them convinces Dietrich that God's love can expand to all creatures. As such, Dietrich accepts and tolerates the difference of the Krenkl. To him they are others not in that they are inhuman, but merely in that their biological makeup is different from that of humans. That is to say, that they are different life-forms in terms of their biological make-up is not as important to Dietrich as is the similarity that the Krenkl share with humans the capability to think, feel, and experience emotions. It is human, however, only inasmuch as Dietrich and the rest of humankind label these capabilities as being indicative of humane-ness.

Likewise, Judy opposes removing Johann von Sterne, Hans, from his burial site. She has attached a great sense of dignity to the Krenkl, and it is not human dignity. It is a dignity which she has extended to other life-forms, regardless of there relation, or lack thereof, to homo sapiens. What other characters have we encountered who share similar attitudes? Andrew "Ender" Wiggin and Emilio Sandoz.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Novelty

Who could have done a better job? First of all, we should reassess our criteria. What is a good outcome? What's a bad outcome? Before that, though, let's distinguish between the two "fronts" of change on Rakhat and their sources. These must be considered separately to avoid confusing distinct influences. The landing on Rakhat in turn set off two waves of change, one centered on Gayjur Palace, and the other around the VaKashan Runa.

I believe the changes implemented by the Reshtar are the result of Contact with foreigners and little more. The nature of the first crew did not cause the changes so much as their mere presence. What happened to Emilio had more to do with the aspirations and character traits of the Jana'ata than ay of his own actions or traits. Supaari was waiting for an opportunity to gain foundership. The Reshtar was uniquely receptive to anything that might upset the status quo. Rgardless of who went, as long as they made any kind of contact, Kitheri would have started to sing new songs. One way or another, anyone would have been the catalyst.

The second wave, the Runa gardens and eventually Sofia's role in fomenting revolution, could probably have been avoided, this I do not deny. Instead, I question our framing of foreign influence as somehow unnatural, something to be rejected. Humans, Runa, and Jana'ata alike evolved out of what is natural, and are themselves a part of nature. Where are the rules that decide what will be considered "unnatural"? What does it mean that this standard itself changes over time? We have a false conception of a bunch of closed-systems. This tribe over here cannot be influenced by the outside world, and nw this planet is somehow off-limits. We arbitrarily define these boundaries, and I think it is futile, counterproductive to do so. In fact, one of the traits we as humans have come to value is communication, contact within our species, the cross-pollination of ideas. Why should we be so selfish as to deny this to the species on Rakhat?

Modern hypnotists claim that people under hypnosis will not do anything they would never do while "awake;" there is no way to coerce someone using hypnosis. While I'm not so sure I believe hypnotism, I do think that this distinction applies to what happened on Rakhat. Sofia did not force anything on the Runa. The landing party did not make them plant gardens. The Runa encountered novelty, and decided the new ideas were worthwhile. I just don't see how someone can say in one scenario that it is okay to share an idea (example: the entire purpose of schools), and in another case, the other person/group/cultures does not have the right to encounter it and decide for themselves its worth. One could frame schooling in terms of interference. I would never have known about the chemical properties of water if a teacher hadn't told me. I would never have discovered that on my own. Does this mean I don't have the right to know it?

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Reflection 12: Einstein and Kithari

Georges Perec wrote his 300 page novel "La Disparition" without ever using words including the letter "e." He clearly demonstrated a social phenomenon in art/literature: exclusion. Can you do that with music? I guess not. Once you take a note out of the whole composition, harmony is gone. If we are to derive meaning and purpose for our lives (which is not a biological need but rather a psychological one), then we derive that meaning and purpose from each other. Oddly enough, this depicts what Hlavin Kithari expresses on pages 82 and 83: "One must classify, compare, rank-- appreciate the inequalities so that the superb, the ordinary and the inferior may be known by their contrast." I guess at the end of the day, if we are all mere notes to a melody, we all give meaning to the whole. Or so we'd like to think. Maybe we are just delusional. Or, alternatively, we can NOT only think in these terms but set out to change reality to fit our thoughts/ideas:
 If the facts don't fit the theory, change the facts. ~Albert Einstein

However, can we really do that? I mean the song has no lyrics so there is hope for harmony not in the abstract sense but in its true definition. There is no possible way that we can frack Jana'ta and Runa system more with this music, or could we?

YAQMOG (Yet Another Quantum Model of God)

Kind of a heavy title, but hear me out.

On page 213 of Children of God, Frans explains Schrödingers cat to Nico. This is one of the most famous quantum physics thought experiments, and many people's introduction to subject. Frans tells Nico that according to Schrödinger, "a thing isn't true unless there's someone to observe that it's true." Now, I'm no expert on quantum mechanics, but I have taken Changing Views of the Universe, and that's gotta count for something. First of all, it's tricky to frame QM in terms of truth; that sort of epistemology is more suited to postmodernism (a close cousin to quantum mechanics, if you ask me). Let's change the words up a bit: "an event doesn't happen unless there's someone to observe that it happens." Now, this doesn't jive with the quantum mechanics I learned about. I would instead say, "an event both happens and does not happen until someone observes that it either does or doesn't happen." In this manner, Schrödinger's cat is both alive and dead, exists and doesn't exist, at the same time.

At this point people usually do one of three things (not both, because of course I'm observing closely). The physicists will have left the room already, tired hearing about this stupid cat. The honest ones look at me like I'm crazy, like I've got more in common with a cat lady than a physicist. The others will just nod their heads to appease me. I haven't even gotten to the crazy(er) part. A good response to the thought experiment is "so what?" Once you open the box, the cat's either alive or dead. Whether or not quantum physics "works," the result is the same.

Well, it turns out that it does matter. On the particle level, scientists have found out that not only does a particle take all possible paths to it's destination, but in fact each of these potential paths will interfere with each other. For a more detailed description, read up on the double-slit experiments. There is scientific evidence that quantum mechanics "works" and is not just for interesting thought experiments.

And finally, after taking all possible paths, we arrive at my point. Nico says, "I think we're like the cat. I think that God is like the man outside the box. I think that if the cat believes in the man, the man is there. And if the cat is an atheist, there is no man" (213). I don't follow Frans's reasoning, so I will substitute my own. God is the cat in the box. We are outside. For all practical purposes, God both exists and does not exist. Even the most devout believers or atheists must have at some point vacillated, even for a moment and acted counter to their beliefs. Obviously that's an assumption, but I think it's pretty safe. In other words, if life is a double-slit experiment (I hope you took a look at the link!), one hole is "God," the other is "no God." Each slit is tied to belief. According to Newtonian mechanics, you can only pass through one hole. This would mean that you acted on the assumption that either God exists or doesn't your whole life. I say that this is impossible. Everybody goes through both slits, and everything that they might have done has an effect on what they actually do (ie. someone feels guilty for not believing in God).

Please help me make this make sense. Comment!

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Schrödinger's Cat and Knowing

On page 143 Sophie quotes Anne: "Wisdom: true knowing. Anne said wisdom begins when you discover the difference between " that does not make sense" and "I do not understand.""However, it is easy to say you know the distinction and that you have the wisdom, for the consequences of otherwise are not desirable. A good example for this might be the old Danish fairytale The Emperor's New Clothes, where emperor's new clothes are claimed to be invisible to those who were unfit for their offices, by the tailors. Afraid of getting kicked out of their office, everyone claims to see emperor's new clothes. Everyone claimed to have truly seen, what was actually non existent. A collective delusion, if you will...where is wisdom in that? From Anne's point of view, our responses in the previous class activity makes a lot of sense. However, how does one know where s/he's standing in the "that does not make sense" and "I do not understand" continuum? Then there is the Schrödinger's Cat Experiment of knowing...which is also referenced in Rusell's book.

On page 213, Frans explains Nico the Schrodinger's Cat Experiment (*) to explain his hypothesis on God. Frans explains that man can the the cat in the box, and if the man (cat) believes that there is a God (man) outside of the box, then there is one. If the man is an atheist, then there is no God outside the box. Sticking with the same example, the only way of knowing is by opening the box, to see if the cat is still alive. Until then, the cat is considered in a superstate in which it's both dead and alive. For cat, existence of man outside the box is indifferent. Likewise, for the man, actual condition of cat is indifferent until the box is opened. Applying this notion to God is problematic simply because we do not know if God put us in the box in the first place. Perhaps it is the other way around...maybe cat is the God which we trapped in a box somewhere.

Leaving all religious implications aside and merely looking at the overall Schrodinger's Cat experiment, it is obvious that we can assume that until the time comes, there is no way of knowing. So maybe wisdom and true knowledge is achieved in retrospect- when Ender's killed all the Buggers, when Emilio is raped out f his mind and when we come to accept slavery as inhumane after years of colonization and slave trade. So, is knowledge time-oriented or time-based? Schrodinger would say yes, for after 1 hour we have the ultimate answer to our question by opening the box.

I hope we can discuss this in class.


* Here is more info on the experiment. In case you prefer Sheldon's explanation:


Saturday, April 10, 2010

Reflection 11: Diffusion of Self?

I am very sorry that I missed first half of our class on Thursday. Yet, it was better than missing the whole class session. I found our class activity very thought-provoking, but I wished we discussed in more detail why we saw the pattern that was on the board. After my 3rd encounter with Todorov's Conquest of America, I am left with more notes and scribbles in my books' margins than ever. Since I did not speak up in class this week, I would like to make up by giving Todorov's book a different twist.

Todorov, at the end of his book mentions how communication allowed both explorers (Colombus and Cotres, but especially Cortes) to succeed. This is funny, because if that is the case for Western superiority- is it still working? As I mentioned couple weeks ago, when we were reading Stephenson's book, there are no more lands to conqueer- but minds. In the past, inernet was a powerful tool which could trump any internal authority (as long as you had some money to get a modem and get connected). However, some countries have cencored public internet usage, and some websites are not accessible in China and in Turkey (when I say "some," I actually mean "main arteries:" youtube, google, blogger and facebook). These countries are missing out on some communication with the rest of the world on these platforms...maybe for the better, or perhaps for the worse.

Michael Mandelbaum, in his book "The Ideas That Conquered the World" writes that "culture diffuses through voluntary means: exchange, example, imitation." He also notes that, culture might spread coercively via conquest and/or imposition. Most of us will probably agree that the conquest of America did not entail any consent from the inhibitants. However,with Columbus, story is slightly different. The exchange of gifts between the natives and the Spaniards seems a rather voluntary consequence. After all discussion in our class about measuring the level of understanding through manipulation of the other or through the desirability of the outcomes of any given interaction, I believe it's necessary to consider the cultural diffusion between the two sides -even if for a brief period of time.

On a side note, I was particularly suprised to see how a lot of people gave such low ratings to the midnight meeting story of Bradbury, where the strangers agree to disagree. I guess as westerners, or as people influenced by the west, we really expect something to follow an action-reaction dichotomy to be accountable as an interaction. However, sometimes understanding does amount to nothing. Allow me to toss out another paradox, given the popularity of the previous one: if understanding amounts to nothing then, would non-understanding lead to something? Love? Violence? Coexistence? Genocide? Fraternite? Disorientation? Orientation? Cultural exchange programs (on which I'll write about when I have more time)?

A good approach might be to distinguish between non-understanding and misunderstanding. I'm not even sure if there is an answer to the question that I am asking. I guess, understanding can kill, but that is always the easiest solution we find by not coming over the communication blocs between the self and the Other.

Cross Cultural Communication

Anyone who thinks that Cross Cultural Communication is a dumb class should really read The Conquest of America. A lot of people seem to think it's all about cultural relativism and all that. They're sick of hearing how every culture is legitimate, every culture is worthy of respect. Regardless of how you feel about cultural relativism, there is a reason to study other cultures. Even if you don't like the way they do things over there, understanding their motivations will undoubtedly help you navigate those cultural icebergs to a better result.

Cortés very quickly understood the civilizations of Central America. He understood them, and he was able to defeat them with a tiny force. I'm not even talking about Ender's "understanding." He just found their weak-spot, a biological limitation. Cortés understood Montezuma's culture, and was able to manipulate him and his people because of it.

What's the best model for Contact? I think a combination of the political realism of Schmitt informed with Todorov's awareness of sign could go a long way in helping us survive an alien encounter. I've almost given up hope on a "successful" contact, at least maybe we can live through the next landing on the White House lawn.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Columbus and the Hermeneutics of Pragmatic Materialism

In The Conquest of America, Tvetzan Todorov makes the claim that, "Columbus does not succeed in his human communications because he is not interested in them" (33). While Todorov repeatedly proved this to be the case via the analysis of multiple journal entries, to dismiss Columbus as uninterested in human communications sweeps away far too many questions to be considered a wise move on Todorov's part. Instead, we ought to examine communications across the range of Christopher Columbus's interests: human, nature, and divine.

Todorov later states that, "the readiness with which he alienates the other's goodwill with a view to a better knowledge of the islands he is discovering; the preference for land over men. In Columbus's hermeneutics human beings have no particular place" (33). By so doing, Todorov has revealed the source of his dissatisfaction with Columbus's actions: it is not that human beings have no place, but that human beings are treated as inexpendable, elastic, and without a static place in the explorer's hermeneutics. In Columbus's hermeneutics, which stem in part from his mission (to acquire gold) and his belief (in doing such things for the greater glory of God), nature and the divine repeatedly take precedence over and displace human beings. As such, Columbus could be likened to a sort of spiritual materialist. Furthermore, his method involves a pragmatic manipulation of the signs. Much like the Aztecs, for whom everything that happened was predestined by, Columbus twisted the signs of events to suit his needs. Mentioning gold for example, and interpreting signs (correctly or not) as being indicative of nearby land, were just two ways in which the explorer quashed dissent and unrest. In fact, that is how Columbus even received the opportunity for his voyages in the first place: by luring Ferdinand and Isabella with tales of riches from the Indies. And because Columbus had a hierarchical order of communications, with humans taking on a Machiavellian means to justify Columbus's desired ends: land (and thus riches), prestige, and glory to God.

Reading The Conquest of America after The Sparrow makes sense a lot of sense. In many ways, Father Sandoz and Christopher Columbus are one and the same. Both men are deeply religious. Both men are inspired by both the divine and nature, and find the divine in nature. Both men are intellectually curious, and have a penchant for languages (although Sandoz has a clear advantage over Columbus in this arena). And almost most importantly, the motto Ad maiorem Dei Gloriam could be applied to each men. I say most importantly in that, at least in Father Sandoz's hierarchy of communications, there exists a place for human beings. Todorov, while he would still fault Sandoz for failing to recognize the other's goodwill, would praise Sandoz for, unlike Columbus, approaching the other without authority or condescension. Todorov would recognize that, within Sandoz's hermeneutics, there is a place for human beings that is not always overridden by a desire to explore nature or know the divine.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Blind Eyes, Deaf Ears and A Numb Mind

My favorite philosopher of all time - who happens to be my mother- once told me: "never close the eyes of your mind- or your heart," because we are not isolated from others; we are surrounded. However, what use is seeing (with your eyes OR your mind) if we only see what we want or wish to see? This is when I see Cortes come in.

On page 91, Todorov writes "Durign th first contact of Cortes's army with the Indians, the Spaniards (hypocritically) declare that they are not seeking war, but peace and love; "they did not reply in words but with a shower of arrows" (Cortes, 21). The Indians do not realize that the words can be a weapon quite as dangerous as arrows." Yet, according to the Aztec culture words are for women and weapons for men. "what Aztec warriors did not know is that the "women" would win this war..." (92). However, Cortes understood his other better than Columbus. Yet, the consequences remain the same. Why?

This is the same question that Todorov wrestles with: "Should not understanding go hand in hand with sympathy?" (127). A paradox like non other: An understanding-that-kills. La Casas, a Priest witnessing all evil by the Spaniards loves the Indians. One might argue that he is more Christian than Columbus or Cortes, and yet he does not think violence is the answer. He knows his religion is the true religion without knowing anything about the natives. Adapting this to the current times, how can we know that our "just war" is a just war, when we do not know enough to justify waging of a just war? Or he who knows he is more civilized than the savages before his eyes, when he doesn't know about his inner savage who's after civilizing the Other? What's the solution?

Well, Todorov has a prescription: A Perfect Stranger. A man in an existential crisis, perhaps? It is true that we affect one another by merely existing. In such a circumstance, world will need more than A Perfect Stranger, but a world full of perfect strangers. To achieve this more mobility is needed, which we take as given in the 21st century. However, I do not think we are any close to Todorov's "Perfect Stranger" depiction for we leave ourselves...only to find ourselves. Being a sojourner, or a nomad, or "Perfect Stranger" loosens social ties, only to strengthen some inner ties to things we find in our true essence. For Emilio, this was faith...and at the end of the day that was all he was left with.

I won't be in class this week, so I'll appreciate if you could share your thoughts with me after you read this.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Reflection 10: Self-Annihilation On A Spiritual Level

Spiritual annihilation: I think this is precisely what Emilio experienced at the end of the book. However, since Emilio defines himself most with his spiritual side, this did amount to self-annihilation for him.  As I pointed out in class, the mission's members were very unreceptive of the signs around them. Emilio's late experience if anything, lead him to wake up from a long sleep. Yes, it was a bitter experience but it allowed Emilio to question how he made sense of his life and his surroundings. I think I made the claim that this was a test for Emilio's sanity: I take that claim back. I think what he experienced is considered generally wrong in 2 planets: 1. On page 260, we read that most Jana'ata "do not even like music," (sadly, an information which was never scrutinized) 2. It is considered morally wrong to "invade" someone else's body against his/her consent. Will Emilio ever recover? I guess I'll learn that soon. However, how can one reconcile with bitter experiences of their past?

On a broader scale...how could the oppressed come to love his oppressor? How could one come to terms with their past mistakes?  How could Tutsis and Hutus reconcile after so many bitter memories? How can we avert each other's nightmares, when we-ourselves- are incompetent of dreaming... each other's dreams?

Disowning the Children of God

In class on Thursday I questioned the idea of a mission "to know and love God's other children." What, I asked, happens if we simply can't love them? Do we turn around in failure, content with the fact that we gave it our all? Or, do we change them so that we can love them. A lot of our discussion centered around this notion, the morality of changing society on Rakhat into something that jives with our conceptions of right and wrong. This conversation usually heads down the road of a cultural reletavism debate, and I get enough of that in Cross-Cultural Communication. After class, I thought about a third option that makes sense in light of some of our other readings. The easiest solution is to accept that the aliens on Rakhat are not God's children.

As I have said a few times, Manifest Destiny is a constant re-characterization of our interests and motives. If we wanted to expand our territory, then we just rationalized our way right through the native Americans or other colonial powers. The indigenous people were hardly people at all, and therefor had no right to their land, or even their way of life. It is conceivable, then, that this could happen on Rakhat. If we failed to love them, it is not our fault; they are not God's Children. This paves the way for all kinds of injustices. I probably don't need to remind you what Carl Schmitt had to say about fighting for "humanity."

A tricky thing about Rakhat, however, is that there are at least two other species that one could safely call inhuman. It's hard to think of them as such, but the Jana'ata and the Runa are not genetically related. They are literally different beasts. There is a clear gradation of intelligences on the planet, putting outsiders face-to-face with realities of nature (as in vs. nurture) that make comparing the social structure on Rakhat awkward to compare to any historical human societies. Drawing a parallel to antebellum South feels wrong, because although there are some similarities, we can't forget that the Runa are, as a race, not capable of the same intellectual capacity as the Jana'ata.

I am looking forward to reading Children of God to find out what humans decide to do with this planet. I have become used to authors forcing readers to speculate at what happens next, and I would not have been surprised to see Russell do the same. Children of God is exciting because we the readers get a chance to sit back after reading The Sparrow, think hard about our predictions, and then see what actually happens. I know it'll probably be depressing, but I can't wait for more.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Betrayal

His Master's Voice and The Sparrow make for an interesting back-to-back read. Both books are essentially stories faith and betrayal. Obviously each book has a different substrate, so to speak. I read HMV, and I think SCIENCE. I read The Sparrow, and think GOD. The ingredients dropped into these drastically different broths are really quite similar. Both books end up saying a lot about faith, and how it feels to be let down.

In His Master's Voice, the main character and the people around him believe that science (well, maybe not all sciences), when applied to a problem should be able to solve it. When scientists in the US discover a radio signal that might originate with another intelligent species, the US government whips together a compound of 2,000something scientists of all kinds to decode the message, or at least determine whether or not it is really alien. The fervor with which they attempt to tackle the puzzle matches that of the Jesuits in The Sparrow.

Often in The Sparrow, the Jesuits insist that God is in the "why." One would imagine than scientists only concern themselves with "what," but His Master's Voice is a different scenario than most physicists or mathematicians are used to. As the narrator likes to point out often enough, there very well might be another sentient race on the other side of the beam, and that adds another dimension to its study. They don't just want to know what the beam is, but why is it there at all?

While Lem didn't let his characters get as far as Russell took the Jesuits, they were both confronted with failure of sorts. Ultimately, they were left with nothing but there faith in something they could probably never know for sure. Were they betrayed by what they believed in? Could be, but I don't think that there is doubt that there is potential that that "betrayal" could strengthen that faith, temper it. Maybe? We'll have to see what happens in the next book.

On "Running Low on Faith" -or God

I found it really ironic that I was reading the Sparrow this week given that only 2 nights ago I was listening to news about a priest who had abused 200 deaf children. News came into light when a 61 year old former victim (who was raped at the age of 12) confessed. When the topic is rape, we say "God forbid," yet which God do we trust? The God we share with, um, jerks out there? Or the God we share with moral elite? Is he the moral dictator, or the silent observer? Is God really "out there somewhere" (252)? How many ways are there to seek that God? One might say there are various ways to seek that God- you know, through mediation, chanting, praying, recreational drug use, even through orgasmic expeditions in other people's bodies (with or without consent). At the end of the day, we may or may not find what we are looking for. BUT if finding what we are looking for is not knowing what we are looking for, then where does that search begin -and more importantly where does it end? Who finds it first and who runs away with it?If there is some kind of God, do you think he's pleased with what we go about doing in the name of Him?

If alien encounter is equivalent to encountering something comprehensible, or experiencing something that almost amount to a traumatic experience, is it really worth the trouble? Well I think it really depends on what you experience...for human experience is inalienable as long as one remains sane. Given we are not robots to cast amnesia whenever we need it, we are very much defined by our life experiences and our most basic information about our selves. As human beings we are programmed to always go back to the start until we lose our way or our minds. Emilio found comfort in believing that the antidote of his experiences could be in thinking that God was with him or that he was still searching for God- a principle he followed for as far back as he could remember. His devotion was perhaps his sole cause of survival. Yet, did Emilio really survive? Some say being human is being a living soul.
After his confession, is Emilio still a living soul? He does request to stay longer with Giulani (to his suprise) and it is a good indicator of how he never gave up on his belief- and it was his belief that allowed him to survive despite all his misery/transformation.

A very powerful piece indeed.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Reflection 9: HMV & Prometheus and Bob.

It's funny that life, in its very simplistic form follows a cycle, a circular pattern. Every fall, trees lose their leaves only to blossom again in Spring. Regardless, let's admit it: Nobody likes circular processes. We do not like finding ourselves in the point where we started, despite all travel/effort/energy we put in the process.

We adopted linear Newtonian logic for that purpose- it made life and problems break down into 3 managable components: (1) Identification of the problem, (2) Trial/Error, (3) reaching a conclusion. The linear approach he adopted made him run into all forms of problems in identifying the problem, hence he faced all kinds of problems including the GRANDMOTHER FUNERAL example on page 74. How plausible is the application of a linear logic for a vicious cycle, OR life? Or perhaps the real question is what kind of a logical sequence (or pattern) do we need to follow in going about looking for answers to our questions?

Near the end of the class, I kind of managed to kind of get a sense out of what I read the night before, and I have to admit it really was a legitimate mindf***. I think Dr. Hogarth, and others did find the real (or scientific) explanation (about the TX) but settled for a completely different explanation (His Master's Voice) because it brought about a higher degree of comfort. The task of the scientists did not give the Manhattan Project kind of success, though it could have. It boiled down to scientists building a different (spiritual) explanation. If it really does boil down to our choice on what we'd like to believe and what we'd like others to believe, it requires a degree of manipulation power in the hands of the scientists...which by virtue of being scientists they automatically receive. So, it really does come down to what Aaron pointed out in class: it is not science that's evil. It's the scientists. What kind of scientists are legitimate enough to be attached such a degree of importance? On pg. 160 there's an account for the Christian physicists over the physicists following the Zen tradition or Buddhist physicists. (Please see emily's post for more on this). Dr. Hogarth draws a parallel between the closedness of the Christian religion and the closedness of the signal from the stars. This automatically legitimizes the "His Master's Voice" narrative for it automatically becomes a proof for the existence of a Master in possession of a voice. Cool. Science then automatically becomes a means to reach His Master, or to understand His Master closely...by putting humanity on the otherside of the receiver line. This, however, is not a very well constructed argument for His Mater's Voice interpretation is still our personal, subjective reflection of our longings. We filter the information through the lens of our sub-culture, as a human. So, if we rule out what makes us fundamentaly human: morality, ethics and language we can then perhaps not filter the information that is being given to us...we can receive it all as a whole. I guess this is what I mean by self-annihilation- not selflessness but rather nullification of "self" concept. Perhaps even stripping the notion of self property away. Or being so devoted to a cause/purpose that one forgets his/her individual role in it.

So can scientists mute a side to themselves by doing science? Do politicians numb a side to themselves by doing politics? Do philosophers mute a side to themselves by philosophizing? Do priests shut a side to themselves by preaching? I think all these questions have a very economical answer: It depends. Are they suicidal-- prone to killing some of their humanness to pursue a purpose they see fit? If that's the case, no wonder we refer occupations as "vocations" as if they are going to take us somewhere.

Near the end of the class I tossed out the implied meanings attached to "His Master's Voice" as in considering the human civilization on a lower level on a hierarchy. So in that sense assuming that the human civilization is on the caveman status relative to the aliens, our first encounter would resemble something like this:

-- In case you are not familiar with the series: Prometheus is an alien who tries to educate Bob, the caveman. Following is the first tape: the Encounter.

Not A Thing-Process Response

So...His Master's Voice, where to start?

I am really exhausted after devoting my day to understand this book, and I could not figure out the place this book has in the framework of alien-human encounter of our syllabus, simply because it is very ambigious in the text. One other problem I found with the book was...it was simply too realistic. The time-period, setting and the pre-text are all too familliar to me as a reader to consider it sci-fi. Then again, by changing only one dimension of the current world I guess we are presented an alternative reality. I cannot wrap my mind around a lot of things in this book, so I will try and talk briefly about each and hopefully we can talk about them in class. I will save my ideas on "denial," "information control" and Communication patterns to our class discussion. Here are rest of the things I feel like discussing tonight:

1. Can science have answer to moral questions?
A theme I saw implicitly throughout the book. On pg14, Hogarth says that: "in various fields one can acquire knowledge that's real or the kind that only provides spiritual comfort-and those two need not agree." I found this approach rather unsettling. Human beings for the most part find comfort in reaching a solution i.e. finding the answer. If there are 2 different answers to same question, why ask the question in the first place? (Coincidentally, there is also a TED Talk on this very topic, and the speaker has an absolute Yes as his answer to this very question. Then we are left with question of cultural imperialism. )




2. Civilization as accidental- and occidental.
Lew executes very solid arguments on various things throughout his book including his account of human existence on this planet being a mere statistical possibility as well as the existence of civilizations. So, from that perspective this is a pure critique of Hegel and all others that believe in the universal truth and the metanarrative of a pre-determined fate for civilizations. Math argument- an acultural approach- sounds plausible but I would argue that civilization in and of itself assumes a homogenous population, at least in linguistic perspective. "Orient" in that sense would not account as a civilization. Such an approach to the Civilizations  is oversimplistic. Their existence falls in between what we perceive as real and artificial from our subjective perspectives.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Manifest Destiny: Reflection

In class, Professor Jackson pushed us to define Manifest Destiny, which actually turned out to be pretty difficult. Throughout American history, what ever we happened to be doing. Manifest Destiny seemed to be an appropriate characterization of our actions. From the Pacific Coast expansion to the Cold War, Manifest Destiny wasn't so much a justification of America's actions and attitudes, but a sort of lens through which all actions could be interpreted as common sense. Again, not a specific justification, but the persistent justification over time of different actions all related to expanding some aspect of the United States.

I think this lens formed as a result of the American Experiment. Whatever e did, it had to be different from the Old World. Whereas they were accidental, the inevitable product of the forward march of time, we were intentional. America was blessed with the chance to do things differently. I think the "Empire of Right" was formed around the idea that because we're different, we couldn't possibly screw up, and any missteps were just painted differently, as something we meant to do.

I especially like the way different authors have projected Manifest Destiny into their created futures. In many of these visions (Speaker for the Dead, Martian Chronicles), Manifest Destiny has come to characterize a global phenomenon. It could be a simple consequence of population expansion, but characters in both books have to question the right of Man to take to the stars. I liked the feeling of awkward silence in Martian Chronicles. Because the Martians had died before most settlers arrived, the question was never formally resolved. The mothers knew there was something wrong about their children playing in the ashes of the dead cities. Spender obviously had a problem with the easily foreseeable future. The story of the first hot dog stand on Mars illustrates this clearly. The mere presence of a Martian causes the guy to try and justify himself, as if he's guilty. I'm sure that human colonization on Mars would have proceeded, Martians or no, but I think Bradbury captures some of the discomfort that the practitioners undoubtedly feel.

Manifest Destiny

(a blast from the past, I know)

I had always thought about Manifest Destiny in terms of American expansion to the Pacific Ocean. That's all, really. The amazing thing I learned from reading Stephanson's book is the nuanced manifestation of Manifest Destiny, and its extension into recent history. Now that I think about it, Manifest Destiny is not connected to any single era, but instead follows us through time, even as we change, from the pre-WWII isolationism to the push for global democracy. Something in every era just feels like Manifest Destiny.

What really strikes me is that we are by no means through with Manifest Destiny. The war in Iraq could certainly be framed as an attempt to export our American ideals where we can no longer expand our territory. Like the Puritans, we tend to look down upon the land outside our borders, but still expect the world to change around us in our image.

I really wonder what Carl Schmitt would think of Manifest Destiny. The Schmittian framework was outlined in relation to the Old World state system, "the dichotomous Other of the 'New.'" Does Schmitt's theory apply to a state so opposed to the Old? The stability characteristic of Europe does not seem to have extended to the United States. Yet another time where I would love to poll Schmitt. Too bad he's out of touch.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Phil is (still) Phil, but is Phil human?

Any linguistic prescriptivist would tell you we've gotten lazy. We split infinitives, we end sentences with prepositions, but one thing we've gotten away with (with which we have gotten away) for far too long is our sloppy use of the word "humanity." We throw it around with little concern for the consequences. I can't even pretend that those consequences have been minor. As Carl Schmitt put it:
To confiscate the word humanity, to invoke and monopolize such a term probably has certain incalculable effects, sch as denying the enemy the quality of being human and declaring him to be an outlaw of humanity; and a war can thereby be driven to the most extreme inhumanity.
Carl Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p 54

I think we can all get to that. But what if there is an "other" to compare ourselves against. Were that the case, humanity would be an acceptable concept according to Carl Schmitt's framework. That by no means simplifies matters. Grass gives us the opportunity to consider the implications of "human" as an almost moral classification.

One could diagram humanity until the Singularity, but I doubt we would ever reach a satisfying conclusion. We have a hard enough time dealing with differences between homo-sapiens that for all our talk of the search for intelligent life, I don't think we are ready to have our already fragile models, philosophies, and theologies broken wide open. In the event of "contact," I think we will all find a little bit of Father Sandoval in ourselves.

While Grass got me asking questions, it didn't give me good enough answers. If God created "very small beings" similar to microorganisms, how can we know who is the virus and who is the antibody? Can we really say that the Hippae are evil based on a single word they trampled into the floor of a cave? Earth would be screwed if aliens landed in the middle of a GWAR concert. Yeah, they probably are evil, but it wouldn't have mattered if Grass had been left on its own. Without humans, the baby "good" foxen would have been able to escape to trees and survive and there would have been some balance in the ecosystem. Also, if the foxen hadn't killed ALL of that one predator, then the bad Hippae would have been kept in check to some extent. These last are just a few miscellaneous quibbles, though.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Reflection 8: Civil Rights vs. Human Rights- Which One Would You Prefer?

Ever since that Star Trek vignette we saw in class I have been thinking (and yes, that indicates how slow of a thinker I was in analyzing this), and I thought I should probably blog about this. Especially after Thursday's class in which we went in all directions from questioning Phil's humanness (to which I will come back later), to my comments on [child]/ [human] development and to why we (humans) hop on other animals (i.e.horses). I think it is about the right time I flesh out everything that's going on in my head: What's human? Are human rights racist, or these rights -as the UN puts it- "universal?"

It was one of those things that I could not wrap my mind around here in the U.S.; the distinction between the civil and the human rights. In Europe -and more closely in Cyprus- we talk about human rights. The most inalienable rights a human being can have: right to life, property, speech etc. The rhetoric changes on this side of the Atlantic, and people discuss civil liberties. Are we talking about the same thing? Are Europeans lacking a sense of civil rights? Or are Americans lacking -as some scholars put it- a "culture of human rights?" If we are talking about the same thing, why are my rights of pursuit of happiness not protected in Europe, whereas they are protected here?

I think Americans were always a step ahead- or rather more civilized when it came to forming a legal covenant which would protect rights of its people. Civil rights and liberties existed long before the horrors of World War II. And hence, Universal Declaration on Human Rights...and European Directive on Human Rights. UK, for one, lacked an actual "Bill of Rights" document until 1998. So, the human rights notion is a rather new concept whose need was felt soon after the WWII. When you look at the rights protected and how they are protected and from whom they are protected, both the civil rights and the human rights are more-or-less on the same page. By calling them human rights, perhaps we underline the oneness and the wholeness of human race. Civil rights on the other hand...almost require something more than being human- it expects you to be part of the civil society to grant you those rights. I believe it was depicted in Ray Bradburry's Martian Chronicles in the "Taxpayer" story, about a man who protested after he was not put on a shuttle to Mars crying he "was a taxpayer!" I am not entirely sure if civil rights > human rights in practice, but it sounds about right to me in theory.

In law, we have two approaches to this dilemma: relativist (egaliterian) and the universalist debate.
In Speaker of the Dead terms this would be the Ramen vs. Varelse debate. How do we assess the humanness, or worth of an individual/group to decide who is what? I mean we can always put people to monitor others for their proneness to humanness or not. Yet, one thing could always prove things wrong and that is the human's (self's) willingness to identify or not with something they are externally labelled for. Take homosexuality for instance: As long as one refuses (or choses not to) come out, they can always stay as straight and pursue a miserable (or something along the lines) life. There could be external obstacles hindering individual's gender preference but the point is clear: we might never know. Whereas if one choses to come out, then how we categorize him changes from "straight" to "homosexual." Not in a racist or discremenatory manner, but rather in a "stereotypical"manner: fast and discreet, allowing people to form clear linkages beween the reality lying before them, or (in a way) to make better sense of themselves. So we might consider one ramen, but that does not change the individual's own "varelseness," sexuality, religious believes or humanness. I think I will put on a liberalist hat for a moment and say: it is the knowledege that originates and ends within itself that would matter to the self/individual at the end of the day and nothing more. There might be a whole crazy world out there, but what matters is keeping the inner (self) safe. You could be a varelse and lead a ramen life or vice versa...or simply be forced/expected to life such lives. Regardless of the outcome there will be rules to be followed, and laws to abide.

So, to what extent can the civil rights work then? It assumes a form of participation into the civil system whereas the human rights merely requires getting out of your mother's womb (in most cases, you have rights even while you are in there). I do not know which one is more racist (or discriminatory) for these days even if no laws are passed with discriminatory intent, their application is conducted in discriminatory manners. An example could be the French laws regarding African Female immigrants coming into the country with their headscarves. Even though the laws in place are not specific to these women, they are the ones getting discriminatory approach by the French law enforcement officials. Coming back to the problem with the human rights...I would say it should be the means and the ends. Because i think it would be too scarry to use human rights as means to another ends.  Schmittian says whoever uses humanity as a reason is cheating. Then again, whoever is not using humanity as a reason is also cheating. Maybe we really do need a moral dictator/ God/meta-narrative to enlighten the right path for us, because we just don't get it. Or we should just wait until the robotic uprising...



Flight of the Chonchords: The Humans Are Dead

Monday, March 15, 2010

Almost Familiar Aliens

 At the very beginning of the book, the only thing I could think of was the English aristocracy going fox hunting for pleasure. The foxen showed empathy, a trait we are rather fond of identifying as a human characteristic. I guess the thing that stood out most for me in Grass was identifying what makes us human and what constitutes anti-human (or alien). It then boils down to finding a lowest common denominator between us and them, between I and the other. However, it is rather difficult when survival of species becomes a cause of concern.

What is human in relation to a number of others? Speaker of the Dead has a 4 category distinction which we might find useful in identifying our stance in relation to all other species. However, with such a distinction we are making a biological argument. "We are different species," though may be valid, can be considered a rather weak distinction for we might have equal psychological qualities or skills like compassion.

Take away message? I think there were a couple: Never underestimate the power of a determined woman and compassion for all! Oh and let's stop riding horses people.

What is Grass?

When my Mom asked me what I was reading over Spring break I tried to describe Grass to her. The best I could come up with was something like, "It's Dune, but written by a woman." While I will stand by that comparison until something better comes along (I haven't come up with anything yet), I think Sheri Tepper deserves more credit. I read Grass, however, and feel that this novel would be the most appropriate to hold up next to Dune. You've got a displaced family, a strange planet, and most of all, and a mysterious link between the planet's unique ecology and some phenomenon affecting all of mankind.

I've been wondering about what makes this book feel more feminine (?) than others. It's not just the fleshed out relationships, as most authors can establish those connections. I think it has something to do with the way Tepper handles discord in those relationships. Speaker for the Dead had it's own disfunctionalities, but Tepper was willing to venture deeper into the minds of those in conflict. It would be nice to go over this in class some.

I also noticed that I had an easier time reading this book as a fantasy work than science fiction. All of the other books we've read this semester left me thinking about what would happen if Man met some variation of an intelligent being from another planet. Each, in a way, presented a case for mankind's reaction. The science fiction novels we've read and movies we've seen have all been thought-experiments. The aliens on Grass resemble the mythical beasts of Tolkien's Lord of the Rings more than, well, "aliens." Those other works have been concerned with mankind's relationship with aliens (or their leftovers) as told through the perspective of main characters. I would say that Grass is mostly concerned with Marjorie. She isn't just the main point of view, but the story itself. We do get a few indirect mumbles from Father Sandoval of how the Church will react to the lifeforms on Grass, but humanity's response to another living intelligent species does not enter into the story.

This book is filed under "almost familiar aliens" in the syllabus, but for me, the aliens are different enough that I found it easier to resolve them as fantasy elements. The enthrallment of the riders resembled the effects of the One Ring. The foxen brought to mind those giant sentient eagles. The "evil" Hippae, in my mind, were corrupted, rather than mutated. And finally, the "science" in Grass came too late to convince me. Whereas Card worked science into Speaker for the Dead from the very beginning, I couldn't help but think that if Sanctity really wanted to find a cure, they would have sent down scientists disguised as ambassadors. After all, it took one woman just a few days to get the solution, one woman who would have probably arrived at that relatively simple conclusion had she been told what Sanctity knew all along.

If science fiction works are thought experiments, then Grass is one with too many unique parameters to be useful as such. I think. Maybe? Does that make Dune fantasy? Feel free to poke holes in my logic. I'd like to know what you think. This argument is all very new, and I would be surprised if I didn't change my mind a few times during the class discussion.

All this aside, I really did like Grass. I think it would make a great miniseries.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Imagine America. Now, Imagine Better.

I left Thursday's class heartbroken. I was sad to witness my classmates' perception about USA being better than any other country. I guess, if I was an American (American as in white & male) I might have found something to relate to, and agree wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, coming from a minority community in a small island with an identity crisis of its own, I know the dangers associated with wearing a nationalistic attitude and the consequences of expansionism. I am the daughter of a refuge mother, who used to sleep to the sound of flying bullets in her refuge camp. "Human beings can learn and understand without having experience" says J.K. Rowling, "They can think of themselves into other people's experiences." We can also think of million ways to think how to exterminate the other or render the other invisible. Story of America is one which shows a different reality. "What we achieve inwardly will change outer reality" said a Greek Philosopher once, and in my opinion this is the story of America: America allowed people to imagine better than they used to before.

America did not have to do anything to change anything in the world. Just by virtue of its presence, or its existence it devastated science, geography and revolutionized how people made sense of the world. Isn't this the modern dilemma in world politics? Mere presence/ existence of one group of people can lead to most brutal conflicts, or extermination projects. America was the New World, the revolutionary mode of thinking, holy land for people believing in another place at the end of all oceans. The world as people knew it came to an end and a new stage was set for a new order. Refusing to believe in America was not an option as more and more evidence was found on its existence. It could not be eliminated to protect the status quo of the Old World. Then when it was least expected, The New World faced a threat emerging from the Old World in form of "communism." The New World was not going to let Old World have things its way...she had to convince Old World that the New World was better and more promising. Old could never get any new-er. New World on the other hand can never be revolutionized by a Newer world. We truly hit the end of history with the conquest of America for we had nothing left to explore, nothing left to discover.

Manifest destination could now only be up into the skies, as we (as humanity in its broadest terms) tries to seek out more "New Worlds." Yet, do we want newer worlds? How much more can we take our worldview be revolutionized by discovery of life/ land suitable for life in another galaxy/universe? We can refuse to know or even better refuse to learn to remain morally neutral (!?) in relation to such a world. Anyway, I will conclude my post with words of J.K. Rowling again..."we have the power to imagine better." We just need to accept our "inescapable connection with the outside world."


- Excerpts taken from J.K. Rowling's speech at a Harvard Graduation Ceremony.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Shorts

I really like short story collections. My favorites include stories all in the same world. This way, the author has the freedom to take his or her ideas in many different directions. They can start a dialogue that would get old in longer form. With these advantages come the corresponding challenge of threading these pieces into a compelling story, a cohesive metanarrative (no, not that kind of metanarrative). The reader is treated to more than two dozen distinct snapshots of life on Mars. This all works for me because I am sometimes more drawn in by world-building than storytelling.

Ultimately, the Martian Chronicles manages to paint a not so much impressionistic, but fractal picture of Mars. What I mean, is that the reader can step back and look at Mars all together, the gestalt. At the same time, zoom in on a story and you find details, but those details often lead to further questions that could go on ad infinitum. For example: You read the whole book, and have a sense of the history of Mars and its interactions with people from Earth. Zoom in on the story of the hot-dog stand, and you get more of the story, but now wonder what's up with those fragile cities, why give away the land like this?

Every author leaves things for the reader to puzzle over, but The Martian Chronicles consists almost entirely of these puzzles. Even the meaning of the title changed as I read. By the second story, I thought it was about the indigenous people of Mars, the Martians. A few stories in, it was clear the "Martians" were all but gone, so the Martian in Martian chronicles must simply refer to the planet. At the end, Bradbury turned the humans into the eponymous "Martians."

Everything in Martian Chronicles is colored by Martian telepathy, it seems. Do the trees really sprout over night in "The Green Morning?" While every character in the collection was familiar, they reacted to the Martian surroundings somehow. I think the only static character Bradbury gives us to lean on is the Earth. Everywhere throughout the book, the Earth is characterized by some sort of decay, whether racism, suffocating moral police, or nuclear winter. Although, it must be significant that Mars starts and ends in states eerily similar to Earth (think the familiarity of "Ylla" and the emptiness of "The Million-Year Picnic).

Thursday, March 4, 2010

God's favorite type of human is caucasian (?)

Just like Americans, German Third Reich followed a "divine" mission of expansionism, or Lebestraum. As a consequence we had Hitler. Even though Germany gave up its expansionist approach in foreign policy, American Exceptionalism is still around after so many years. It seems that such a notion continuously die and resurrect, gets revived and always gives the Americans the upper hand. Seeing American success as part of God's plan must have been appealing for all those who were fleeing religious oppression in Europe. America did not treat people from different religions unequally ( I'm excluding the anti-semitism of 1940s and current Muslimophobia). Of course religious people fled to God's garden, and God's "timing" was so perfect in revealing America, to save his good (and bad) followers. The names hiding beyond the Manifest Destiny idea changed, but the American exceptionalism remained the same.

On pg. 40 Stephenson writes: "Christianity, democracy and Jacksonian America were essentially one and the same thing, the highest stage of history, God's incarnate plan." If we are so able to personify God, call him "him," and assume that he makes plans for us, I'm curious what his plan has been for Africa or elsewhere? Did God simply abandon the East to come settle in the West? Or is God's favorite type of human is caucasian? We are left with a condition as a consequence: "America" as a state of mind...a political religion. As America moved from its isolationist policies to become the leading actor in world politics, it never left the state of being "America." Evangelizing other regions slowly became inevitable. It remains so to this day. Allow me to use NATO Expansion as an analogy for American Manifest Destiny.

There is an argument made about NATO expansion which says: "if NATO does not expand, it might as well just dissolve."* So if America did not follow expansionist policies, would it have disappeared?
My only comparison is the Ottoman Empire, which also followed the will of God in spreading the religion of right across Middle East, Euroasia and Central Asia as well as sieging Vienna. In this case, Ottoman expansionism also became its downfall. It expanded to an extend, which slowly dissolved into nothing. I do not know if there is something distinct in the stories of two state of minds: Being "American" or being "Ottoman?"


(*)   Peter Duignan, NATO: It's Past, Present, and Future (Stanford: Hoover Institution Press, 2000), 77.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

On (Imagining) Being Part of Something Bigger

It is probably a basic human need: the need for association. Throughout the history we imagined being part of something bigger than ourselves, from our families. We visualized things bigger than our villages, bigger than our towns. We imagined bigger communities and called them nations, we did not stay there...we created states. It was this collective imagination that made states possible. We are still trying to find life elsewhere in the universe...and God knows maybe we found what we were looking for. Or perhaps we never will. To conclude my totally unrelated brainstorming session from the scope of this post, I'd like to point out that I absolutely loved Martian Chronicles.

I did not enjoy the SfD, as I made it clear on my previous blog post on the Speaker. I faced a totally different Ender, with an "I am the Chosen One"Syndrome. A syndrome which showed its symptoms by the initial voyagers to Mars in Bradburry's book. "Hey, look at us! We came to Mars! Yeah, we call your planet Mars! etc." A feeling people get when they start to consider themselves as the last Coca-cola can in a desert. Luckily, Bradburry didn't spend 300 pages on showing how we had to think differently of ourselves and of others.

The Chronicles for me did not end when the book concluded. It finished for me at the end of the Night Meeting story of August 2002. I still do not think that the Aliens are wiped out of chickenpox. There is always the possibility that the aliens solved the problem of coexistence with humans between the period of 3rd and the 4th human voyages to Mars. There is a possible explanation that humans are made to believe that the aliens are dead. Perhaps it might be so that we, as humans, just had to take part in that solution without being aware of coexisting with the aliens on the same planet. Of course, by saying this I am totally eliminating the possibility of this book representing the conquest of America...but may be it. There are many conquest stories that fall parallel to that of conquest of America.

On another note, Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind was a good movie-- to an extent that I interpreted it as a cultural exchange programs with the Mars. It was an odd feeling I got out of the film, given that I'm studying here on one of the cultural exchange programs here. Yet it fell into what Ender was emphasizing in the Speaker for the Dead: learning from the other. And to an extent, acceptance that we are part of something bigger that we cannot comprehend. Hopefully with this acceptence we can start to understand what we truly are part to/ of.

Reflection 6: Hug your inner Spender.

With the snowapocalypse, I lost track of what I posted and what I didn't- but I think it will all become clearer this week. Do bear with me as I post my reflection and substantive posts in wrong order for this week. On another note, I am 21 now. You remember those college essay prompts we had to write about "having dinner with 3 important figures in history?" Having access to all DC Bars now, I think Bradburry and I could be good drinking buddies.

I already shared in class what I took out of Martian Chronicles and the Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind. However, I think it is a good time to fill in those who were absent in class on Thursday. To me Martian Chronicles represented a process of self-alienation, self realization and how we cope with "loss of familiar cues." This process is one I'm familiar with by virtue of living in the US for 3 years now...but it probably happened to those of you who are not even aware of it. By leaving our homes, and coming to AU we, in one way or the other, had to readjust our lifestyles. Some probably had to modify their lives more than others for their own reasons. One of my favorite philosophers of all time Aristotle emphasizes the self-actualization to maximize one's potential...and I cannot think of a better way ofmaximizing our potential by leaving our comfort zones. I left home, only to understand "home" being merely a state of mind. A theme that was implied in some of the short stories found in Bradburry's book.

As Michael and I were creating the Wiki page for this week, we could not get a hold of the book. We thought about summarizing stories, but it was very difficult. As a short book, Chronicles was packed with themes throughout the book, so we decided to wrestle with some of the themes we found interesting.  I was particularly interested in the role of culture in interactions, as I mentioned earlier. However, I found 2 more important themes in the book. Namely:

1. Proofs for God's Existence
Throughout the voyages, humans are seeing all these signs and interpreting them in the scales of their values and beliefs. One of their core beliefs is the assumption on the existence of a higher moral authority called God. In their eyes, life on Mars is part of God's grand plan. However, humans in these stories neglect the fact that life on Earth could have been God's master plan. I have ideas scattered all over the place, so let me move on to my second point before I forget what to say...

2. Art vs. Art-ificial & Communication
On page 66 Spender rants about the role of art in life. Spender compliments the Martians for including art as part of their life. He compares Martians to people in Earth to point out how materialistic they have become. When we look back in history, art has always been part of human life-- it was the ultimate human experience. Specially when we look at the drawings that have been foun din the caves, we understand that humans felt the need of passing/reflecting their inner experiences, emotions, feelings to the outside world. Thank lord we now have many means of sharing our feelings/ thoughts with others. Since we are incapable of telephaty there is no perfect information among ourselves but we created tools to communicate our minds to one another: we not only draw, we compose music, we write poetry and stories. It could be true that we have access to many tools to say what we would like to say. Yet, we are reluctant. We oppress our feelings. We see human expression of emotions a sign of weakness. We shut a side of ourselves somewhere we have no access to and we do not talk about it. In fact, when someone is brave enough to talk about it we pay him/her. Think about it: We pay people to make art for us.

On that note, I embrace my inner Spender and peace out. I think you should give your inner Spender a hug too; if he leaves, you may never find him again.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Expectations and Alien Life

All of the early stories about the encounters between the martians and the first humans to come to mars have the common thread of expectations not being met, and this leading to disaster. Ylla expects to meet the humans and fall in love, but her predictions lead to her husband killing both members of the first expedition. The second expedition is ruined when the humans expect to be welcomed as heroes, but martians expect anyone out of the ordinary to be insane. And the third expedition comes to ruin when they throw all of their reason out the window when their expectations are not met. Since what they find is not what they expect, they decide to accept anything, however unlikely.

The warning here from Bradbury is that we cannot allow either our expectations or lack-thereof to make us blind to reason when dealing with an alien life for, or the unexplained in general. The first two expeditions fail because the humans expect to be welcomed with open arms by the martians. The martians, on the other hand, choose to see the humans as a single madman of unbelievable brilliance instead of accept the possibility that he might be telling the truth. These problems could have been avoided had both races set aside what they predicted would happen, and accepted what did happen.

On the other end of the spectrum we have the third expedition. The astronauts, upon finding something that they cannot explain, accept the first explanation given to them, despite its extreme improbability. They could have saved their live if they had kept their skepticism, and tried to think rationally. The lesson is that when dealing with the unknown we cannot allow what we think we know, or what we are told, overpower what we can observe and reason for ourselves.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Reflection 5: Neumann

Letting others live, and coexistence are dilemmas of modern time, just like nationalism. With limited resources and land at hand, how do we escape the perpetual state of war with one and other? Look at us, we no longer carry swords or pistols around with us- though the risk of getting robbed, mugged and etc. remains. Yet we rely on institutions to protect us from the dangers. We even rely on institutions to protect us from ourselves at some instances. So are we,  in a way, progressing? Are we becoming better humans? For Iver Neumann, we are simply making sense of ourselves differently because the times have changed, as well as the who we see as the other(s).

Iver B. Neumann's Uses of the Other was the recommended reading for this week, and was a very good follow-up to Carl Schmitt. By using Europe as a case study, he presents the self/other nexus with respect to West's East, against the Russian and the Turkish others. I originally ordered the book amon my nationalism readings, but it was a nice coincidence to have it for this course as well.Neumann refers to Nietzsche's position on knowledge: "Nietzsche stressed that the world does not simply present itself to human beings; rather the activity of knowing is a formulation of the world. it is the knowing that makes the self not the other way round. [...] 'i' am a number of different ways of knowing and that there is no such entity as a permanent or privileged self" (12). However, it is commonly agreed that foreign policy is about making an other from a perspective of 'i.' Neumann then presents Michael J. Shapiro's time and space dimension in self/other nexus: "Self/other relations have to be understood in their historicity; they are aspects of historically contingent ideas of self, which again are rooted in historically contingent ideas about time and space" (23). I could not have agreed more with the impact of time and space on the self/other creation and maintenance. However, even this is only one way of looking at this nexus.Feminists (or Gender theorists) would add the gender dimension to conclude that "Feminism is the radical notion that women are human beings."* We embrace the slash between "self" and the  "other" as means of distancing ourselves. As we hide beyond our differences, we neglect our similarities. "I hope there will be no more unnatural barriers between us and them" says Ender, which could definitely help with facing the other for whoever they are (307). Rather than giving religion, God or technology or attempting to change Piggies reproductive system we just need to let others be- unless they would like to change.

I think that the human mind is still not able to comprehend all of the multi-dimensional nature of the self/other nexus. Yet, we understand more than we ever have. The trouble is, what do we do with such a knowledge and understanding. For too much understanding can do just as much harm as too little understanding of the other.

* Cheris Kramarea.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Carl Schmitt, meet the piggies

On page 23 of my book, Rooter is quoted as asking Pipo, "If you have no other city of humans, how can you go to war?" To Novinha and Libo, this question reveals either that piggies want wars, or whether they see them as unavoidable. What's really going on here, is that Rooter has demonstrated an understanding of the works of Carl Schmitt and is getting at a much bigger question. According to Schmitt, "Were a world state to embrace the entire globe and humanity, then it would be no political entity and could only be loosely called a state" (57). A single state cannot exist in isolation, without an enemy. Rooter knows that "There's no honor for you in killing Little Ones," that the pequeninos cannot be the enemy. The existence of only one human city is, in Rooter's eyes, a contradiction. He isn't concerned with war, but with alliances. He knows that there must be more than one human city, and if there aren't any more on Lusitania, then there must be other worlds with humans. By the end of Speaker for the Dead, the reader finds out that the piggies are extremely curious about spaceflight, and most of their questions came out of that curiosity.

I wonder what Schmitt would have made of Valentine's (Demosthenes') four orders of foreignness (p34). The important distinction in this work is that of ramen and varelse:
"The third is the ramen, the stranger that we recognize as human, but of another species. The fourth is the true alien, the varelse, which includes all the animals, for with them no conversation is possible."
Is there any room for these classifications in The Concept of the Political? They do increase the resolution of our analysis, but does it matter? Gobawa Ekimbo doesn't think so: "When it comes to war, human is human and alien is alien. All that ramen business goes up in smoke when we're talking about survival" (313). It's easy to imagine Schmitt agreeing, but he does admit in his writing that he doesn't know how things will change in the future, and acknowledges that his conception is meant for a specific time and place. Regarding a future all-encompassing world order, Schmitt says, "If and when this condition will appear, I do not know. At the moment, this is not the case" (54). This statement leaves the door open for different circumstances and therefor a different interpretation.

I also feel that Val's apparent oxymoron, "human, but of another species," needs to be addressed, but first I would like to know what you guys think thus far. How would Schmitt change his conception of the political in the second millenium after the adoption of the Starways Code. Would he?