Monday, January 26, 2009

For Better And/Or Worse

Dear Avid Reader,

Eye Of A Hurricane, Listen To Yourself Churn

Video games have now outsold DVDs. People still bought DVDs, just not as many video games. What does this mean?

This kind of event usually elicits a reaction of wistful "how-it-used-to-be" feelings. Some common remembrances: monochrome TV/film, prominence of stick-and-ball/cardboard-box gaming, corporal punishment, longer guitar solos in pop music, agricultural summer jobs, et cetera.

Generally the thought is that previous generations had a more difficult time than current and future generations. But I don't think that is true. I think that problems experienced in each era are merely different, not harder or easier.

With The Furies Breathing Down Your Neck

This can also be applied when thinking about differing families. Typically single people are thought to have an easier time than married people. And going further, those with children have an even more difficult time than anyone. This, at first, seems self-evident. If you have kids, there are more people that that require food and attention, and they can't get jobs to help with the bills.

But perhaps we should rethink this. Sure children require money, but isn't loneliness a problem as well? What if having extra money and time leads to emptiness? Are these problems easy?

Every Motive Escalate

I think that not allowing singles to have hard times, genuinely hard times, leads to a comtempt of their lives. I believe that when agreeing that folks on their own have simpler problems, we offer a troubling admission: that having a family and children is more meaningful that being single.

This is becasue, generally, when something is arduous we believe it to be more consequential. So when we say that living on your own is easy, are we saying that it is less consequential? I think we do it more often than we are aware.

A Tournament, A Tournament, A Tournament Of Lies.

This thinking can also be applied to the earlier look at reminiscing. While "kids today" don't appreciate how easy it is, adults are much more thankful and were much more gracious growing-up. But this isn't true. All were snot-nosed brats, all were spoiled, and all were unappreciative. In a sense, all were children. We all know this to be true. But we still play out our role and point to baggy pants and hip-hop and cry out "The sky is falling!"

We fail to realize that none of these people have a job or bills or responsibility. None of them have ever had their hearts broken. None of them have failed. If none of us have ever endured these things, we would act invincible too.

Mount St. Edelite, Leonard Bernstein

The fact is, no one has a harder life than anyone else. Sometimes we act like Atlas, and feel like our silent martyrdom makes us better, but it is a lie. The whole idea is arrogance. Our struggles are human, our problems can be solved, and that is why we should have hope. The trials of today will become the memories of tomorrow. We can only connect the dots in hindsight.

When looking back, we shouldn't feel as if things were easier or harder. They simply were. FDR didn't know if the Nazis could be beat. The folks who ran on their banks didn't know they were fueling the crash of '29. We think that folks in the past have all the information, but they don't. They were just making it up like we are.

And I Feel Fine

The same can be said for anyone walking around today. Rather than assume they could never understand our tremendous burdens, maybe we drop the sufferer act and assume they probably have a hard time too.

It's a tough world out there already for all of us; past, present, or future. So let's ease-up on each other.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,
James

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Heterophenomenology

Dear Avid Reader,

I am certain that I don't feel emotions. Well to clarify, I don't feel emotions as deeply as my wife. Whenever something angers her, she feels rage. I can tell the difference. When the sad part of a movie comes, she cries. I feel nothing. I can tell the difference, even if I can't feel it.

Who's Gonna Tell You Things, Aren't So Great?

My first instinct is to think that I am a robot, but I haven't figured it out yet. Like in Blade Runner.

Now I realize that some people may not have seen Blade Runner yet, and I may have just ruined the film. But I don't feel sorry about it. I have no emotions (That and Blade Runner kinda sucks as a movie and I don't think I ruined anything special).

Unfortunately, I have no other robotic features: superhuman strength rockets on my feet, laser palms, jaws that can bite through iron. I've attempted to make giant computations without a calculator, but I can only solve problems well within human ability. But this doesn't upset me. I don't get upset.

And Who's Gonna Plug Their Ears, When You Scream?

Science fiction often depicts robots as preoccupied with "breaking their programming" in order to gain human emotions. Data, Kryten, A.I., I Robot, all are guilty of attempting to go against their internal nature. Asmiov would not be pleased. But if he were a robot, he wouldn't care.

You see, if these robots were aware enough to realize they had no emotions, and they also had the ability to break their programming, I don't think they would go through with it. I think they may feel unmoved about the whole matter. Why would they want to add something to their persona that doesn't help them complete a task? They are machines. They are indifferent.

But let's say a robot does want to make the leap. Let's say I, as a robot, did realize I had no emotions. Should this revelation concern me? If it did, where does one go to get emotions? Do you get new ones or do you just the ones you have amplified? How does a robot break their programming?

You Can't Go On, Thinkin' Nothings Wrong

I realize that not having deeper emotions might make me a shallow person. But that doesn't mean I would be a stupid person. I could still be an intellectual. I do not think I would be a passionless person either. I would still want things and want them strongly. I do not think would be unsympathetic. I would still care for people and care deeply.

To me, there is a difference between sense and sensation. Jane Austen was on to something, even if her books are basically soap operas*.

*It is important to note that my attitudes about Jane Austen works are largely fed by film and TV versions of her books. You might think that doesn't count, but I am not interested in that rationale. I'm a Robot.

Who's Gonna Drive You Home, Tonight?

I wonder if experience pales without deeper emotional context. Can I not understand the world fully without emotion? After all, this is how I truly feel. This is the "programming" that I have been given. Why would I need or want to try and break it? Too often we decide that how we feel is the most important part of a situation. If angry, then it is a righteous anger, we are totally right to be angry. If something is not pleasant, then the something is wrong. "I would not feel wrong if something was not actually wrong," we might say to ourselves. But I think we are confusing how we feel with how things are.

Let's look at something we probably all agree on: often it is right to not seek justice and instead offer mercy, even though justice makes us feel better. This is a struggle for us, but why? Why are we so preoccupied with making sure others know they are wrong? Do we want to be sure that we do the hurting before we get hurt? Why are we treating each other this way?

To me, this proves that caring is not a feeling, but a decision. It often doesn't make a feel better. In fact we feel worse. When conversations turn to doing the right thing we often act as if doing good made us feel better, but how often is this the case? Don't we have to put emotion aside in order to do what is best?

Don't we have to break our programming?


The Next Post Promises To Be Better,


James