The London Daily Mail had a recent article describing what an Australian professor claims that our entire existence could be an elaborate illusion controlled by a genius evil scientist.
The premise is that you are not where you think you are.
Your brain has been expertly removed from your body and is being kept alive in a vat of nutrients that sits on a laboratory bench.
The nerve endings of your brain are connected to a supercomputer that feeds you all the sensations of everyday life.
This is why you think you're living a completely normal life.
Do you still exist? Is the world as you know it a figment of your imagination or an illusion constructed by this evil supercomputer network?
Could you prove to someone that you are not actually a brain in a vat?
As the article states, the philosopher Hilary Putnam proposed this famous version of the brain-in-a-vat thought experiment in his 1981 book, Reason, Truth and History, but it is essentially an updated version of the French philosopher René Descartes' notion of the Evil Genius from his 1641 Meditations on First Philosophy.
While such thought experiments might seem glib – and perhaps a little unsettling – they serve a useful purpose. They are used by philosophers to investigate what beliefs we can hold to be true and, as a result, what kind of knowledge we can have about ourselves and the world around us.
Descartes thought the best way to do this was to start by doubting everything, and building our knowledge from there. Using this skeptical approach, he claimed that only a core of absolute certainty will serve as a reliable foundation for knowledge.
He said: If you would be a real seeker after truth, it is necessary that at least once in your life you doubt, as far as possible, all things.
It is from Descartes that we get classical skeptical queries favored by philosophers such as: how can we be sure that we are awake right now and not asleep, dreaming?
To take this challenge to our assumed knowledge further, Descartes imagines there exists an omnipotent, malicious demon that deceives us, leading us to believe we are living our lives when, in fact, reality could be very different to how it appears to us.
This premise has been discussed as a possible explanation to the LOST mythology.
For example, who did Patchy of the Others survive being killed by the sonic fence and the island visitors to somehow come back to kill Charlie with an underwater explosive? To have nine lives, a human has to be unrealistically lucky or be reincarnated many times over. Or in this premise, he never really died because he was never really alive. He was a computer simulation, a reusable prop, to infuse the subject jar brains with conflict, reality, drama and emotional responses.
Another explanation of the evil genius controlling everything was inferred from the huge military industrial complex that was the island. Human experiments were part of the mission of the island scientists. It is not a great leap to see how an unseen overlord could have been directing the action, just like the man behind the curtain in the series nod to the Wizard of Oz.
And this article does touch upon the embedded theme throughout the series: philosophy. Characters like Locke and Hume were named after famous philosophers. The characters had to make philosophic decisions between right and wrong, free will or capture. LOST could be viewed as an interactive thesis of philosophic questions being run through various programs in a supercomputer.
Because of the various continuity errors and story line red herrings, many LOST fans questioned the truth of the series story lines. There was doubt that the story writers and show runners actually knew what they were doing. Many have been searching for answers to explain or cover-up the show's big flaws. So, in a way, many continue to do a philosophic autopsy on the show to glean new information and explanations to make the show better in their own minds.
The mind is a powerful but not very well understood thing. It is an intangible element incorporated in the tangible brain. Our current science studies state how we "think" the mind works, but no one has shown the ability to download, in real time, the mental images of a human being onto a monitor. It is merely speculation, educated guess, theory. But what if there were a higher being who could actually tap into the conscious and subconscious mind of human beings - - - for entertainment or research purposes? That would put the human race on par with gold fish in an cosmic aquarium.
Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts
Friday, August 5, 2016
Saturday, July 16, 2016
ROUSSEAU
LOST was filled with vague references and illusions to philosophers.
"Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains" said philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who was born in Geneva in 1712.
Rousseau left home at 16 and wandered around Europe for the next 14 years. He moved to Paris when he was 30, and took up with a group of philosophers. He also took up with Thérèse Le Vasseur, a semi-literate laundry maid at his hostel; the two began a lifelong relationship that produced five children, according to Rousseau. He placed all of them into orphanages.
Rousseau was well versed in music, and wrote ballets and operas; he could easily have been successful as a composer, but the stage made his Swiss Calvinist sensibilities uneasy.
One day he was walking to visit his friend and fellow philosopher Denis Diderot, who was in jail, and he had an epiphany: modern progress had corrupted rather than improved mankind.
He became famous overnight upon publication of his essay "A Discourse on the Sciences and the Arts" (1750). The essay informed nearly everything else he wrote, and eventually he would turn away completely from music and the theater to focus on literature. In "Discourse on the Origin of Inequality" (1755) he continued to explore the theme that civilization had led to most of what was wrong with people: living in a society led to envy and covetousness; owning property led to social inequality; possessions led to poverty.
Society exists to provide peace and protect those who owned property, and therefore government is unfairly weighted in favor of the rich.
In it, he wrote: "The first man who, having enclosed a piece of ground, bethought himself of saying This is mine, and found people simple enough to believe him, was the real founder of civil society. From how many crimes, wars, and murders, from how many horrors and misfortunes might not any one have saved mankind, by pulling up the stakes, or filling up the ditch, and crying to his fellows: Beware of listening to this imposter; you are undone if you once forget that the fruits of the earth belong to us all, and the earth itself to nobody."
His work would prove inspirational to the leaders of the French Revolution, and they adopted the slogan from The Social Contract: Liberty, Equality, Fraternity.
He grew increasingly paranoid in his later years, convinced that his friends were plotting against him. He spent some time in England with David Hume, but his persecution complex eventually alienated him from most of his associates.
Rousseau's character in LOST has some vague patterns to the 18th Century philosopher.
Rousseau came to the island as part of an exploration crew. She was pregnant. Her husband was an intellectual, a scientist. Their ship crashed on the island, which could only mean that Jacob brought them to it as candidates in his game with MIB. She is the second known candidate brought to the island as a pregnant woman. Jacob's own mother shipwrecked on the island centuries earlier, but she was killed by the guardian.
On the island, LOST's Rousseau lost her child to Ben's Others. In a sense, Alex was "an orphan" because Rousseau did not come back to get her bad (until it was too late). Instead, Rousseau abandoned society and lived on the island on her own. As a result, she grew increasingly paranoid in her plots to attack and counterattack against the Others. It was only after she failed to kill Sayid after capturing him did she begin to change her attitude toward her plight.
She began to work with the 815 survivors. Rousseau led the group up to the radio tower, and on the way met her daughter, Alex. She communicated with her for the first time, and Alex herself seemed curious about her. The two tied Ben up together, and headed on to the radio tower. Danielle stated earlier to Jack that she would help them find rescue, but would not be leaving herself. She said the Island is the only place she knows, and is her home.
At the native's darkest hour, when Widmore's soldiers were laying siege to the Dharma compound, did Rousseau come to terms with her motherhood. Ben was worried about Alex's safety so he begged Rousseau to take her to the safety of the Temple. On December 27, 2004, while she, Alex, and Karl were traveling from the Barracks to the Temple, they were ambushed by Keamy's mercenaries. Both Rousseau and Karl were shot dead. Alex was taken back as a hostage to be killed when Ben refused to surrender.
Rousseau was betrayed by the imposter, Ben, the faux father of Alex. She let her guard down in order to serve Ben's plan of survival. But in the end, it cost her and her daughter's lives. It was the battle of territory, the island, which philosopher Rousseau condemned as being the source of mankind's evil came to pass as Danielle and Alex's demise.
"Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains" said philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who was born in Geneva in 1712.
Rousseau left home at 16 and wandered around Europe for the next 14 years. He moved to Paris when he was 30, and took up with a group of philosophers. He also took up with Thérèse Le Vasseur, a semi-literate laundry maid at his hostel; the two began a lifelong relationship that produced five children, according to Rousseau. He placed all of them into orphanages.
Rousseau was well versed in music, and wrote ballets and operas; he could easily have been successful as a composer, but the stage made his Swiss Calvinist sensibilities uneasy.
One day he was walking to visit his friend and fellow philosopher Denis Diderot, who was in jail, and he had an epiphany: modern progress had corrupted rather than improved mankind.
He became famous overnight upon publication of his essay "A Discourse on the Sciences and the Arts" (1750). The essay informed nearly everything else he wrote, and eventually he would turn away completely from music and the theater to focus on literature. In "Discourse on the Origin of Inequality" (1755) he continued to explore the theme that civilization had led to most of what was wrong with people: living in a society led to envy and covetousness; owning property led to social inequality; possessions led to poverty.
Society exists to provide peace and protect those who owned property, and therefore government is unfairly weighted in favor of the rich.
In it, he wrote: "The first man who, having enclosed a piece of ground, bethought himself of saying This is mine, and found people simple enough to believe him, was the real founder of civil society. From how many crimes, wars, and murders, from how many horrors and misfortunes might not any one have saved mankind, by pulling up the stakes, or filling up the ditch, and crying to his fellows: Beware of listening to this imposter; you are undone if you once forget that the fruits of the earth belong to us all, and the earth itself to nobody."
His work would prove inspirational to the leaders of the French Revolution, and they adopted the slogan from The Social Contract: Liberty, Equality, Fraternity.
He grew increasingly paranoid in his later years, convinced that his friends were plotting against him. He spent some time in England with David Hume, but his persecution complex eventually alienated him from most of his associates.
Rousseau's character in LOST has some vague patterns to the 18th Century philosopher.
Rousseau came to the island as part of an exploration crew. She was pregnant. Her husband was an intellectual, a scientist. Their ship crashed on the island, which could only mean that Jacob brought them to it as candidates in his game with MIB. She is the second known candidate brought to the island as a pregnant woman. Jacob's own mother shipwrecked on the island centuries earlier, but she was killed by the guardian.
On the island, LOST's Rousseau lost her child to Ben's Others. In a sense, Alex was "an orphan" because Rousseau did not come back to get her bad (until it was too late). Instead, Rousseau abandoned society and lived on the island on her own. As a result, she grew increasingly paranoid in her plots to attack and counterattack against the Others. It was only after she failed to kill Sayid after capturing him did she begin to change her attitude toward her plight.
She began to work with the 815 survivors. Rousseau led the group up to the radio tower, and on the way met her daughter, Alex. She communicated with her for the first time, and Alex herself seemed curious about her. The two tied Ben up together, and headed on to the radio tower. Danielle stated earlier to Jack that she would help them find rescue, but would not be leaving herself. She said the Island is the only place she knows, and is her home.
At the native's darkest hour, when Widmore's soldiers were laying siege to the Dharma compound, did Rousseau come to terms with her motherhood. Ben was worried about Alex's safety so he begged Rousseau to take her to the safety of the Temple. On December 27, 2004, while she, Alex, and Karl were traveling from the Barracks to the Temple, they were ambushed by Keamy's mercenaries. Both Rousseau and Karl were shot dead. Alex was taken back as a hostage to be killed when Ben refused to surrender.
Rousseau was betrayed by the imposter, Ben, the faux father of Alex. She let her guard down in order to serve Ben's plan of survival. But in the end, it cost her and her daughter's lives. It was the battle of territory, the island, which philosopher Rousseau condemned as being the source of mankind's evil came to pass as Danielle and Alex's demise.
Thursday, September 24, 2015
SACKS AND HUME
Oliver Sacks has died at age 82. He told us how the knowledge of his death sat with him, as a man, and to some extent as a doctor. He wrote the following for the New York Times in February, pausing to quote David Hume:
"It is up to me now to choose how to live out the months that remain to me. I have to live in the richest, deepest, most productive way I can. In this I am encouraged by the words of one of my favorite philosophers, David Hume, who, upon learning that he was mortally ill at age 65, wrote a short autobiography in a single day in April of 1776. He titled it “My Own Life.”
“I now reckon upon a speedy dissolution,” he wrote. “I have suffered very little pain from my disorder; and what is more strange, have, notwithstanding the great decline of my person, never suffered a moment’s abatement of my spirits. I possess the same ardour as ever in study, and the same gaiety in company.”
I have been lucky enough to live past 80, and the 15 years allotted to me beyond Hume’s three score and five have been equally rich in work and love. In that time, I have published five books and completed an autobiography (rather longer than Hume’s few pages) to be published this spring; I have several other books nearly finished.
Sacks was both a doctor and writer. In his medical work, he sought to understand what made people different and the same. He struggled to awaken patients who had suffered from a sleeping sickness, and recounted that experience in his 1973 book Awakenings (later a film starring Robin Williams and Robert De Niro). He realized that the experience of human consciousness is both shared and unique, and regardless of what consciousness is, it is valuable. He helped to awaken in his readers a sense of the shared human experience, via stories of people suffering from neurological conditions.
Among many poignant stories Sacks related in his 1985 book The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, he introduced us to "Jimmie G.," a patient who had been unable to form new memories since 1945. In that book, like his recent NYT column, Sacks returned to Hume, in this passage about Jimmie's diagnosis (emphasis added):
‘He is, as it were,’ I wrote in my notes, ‘isolated in a single moment of being, with a moat or lacuna of forgetting all round him ... He is man without a past (or future), stuck in a constantly changing, meaningless moment.’ And then, more prosaically, ‘The remainder of the neurological examination is entirely normal. Impression: probably Korsakov’s syndrome, due to alcoholic degeneration of the mammillary bodies.’ My note was a strange mixture of facts and observations, carefully noted and itemized, with irrepressible meditations on what such problems might ‘mean’, in regard to who and what and where this poor man was—whether, indeed, one could speak of an ‘existence’, given so absolute a privation of memory or continuity.
I kept wondering, in this and later notes—unscientifically— about ‘a lost soul’, and how one might establish some continuity, some roots, for he was a man without roots, or rooted only in the remote past. ‘Only connect’—but how could he connect, and how could we help him to connect? What was life without connection? ‘I may venture to affirm,’ Hume wrote, ‘that we are nothing but a bundle or collection of different sensations, which succeed each other with an inconceivable rapidity, and are in a perpetual flux and movement.’ In some sense, he had been reduced to a ‘Humean’ being—I could not help thinking how fascinated Hume would have been at seeing in Jimmie his own philosophical ‘chimaera’ incarnate, a gruesome reduction of a man to mere disconnected, incoherent flux and change.
Sacks, the fascinated neurologist, driven not only to identify disorders of the brain, but to understand the creation of the brain: the mind. What is the mind? And what do we make of it? If our experience of life is altered or reduced because a misfire of the brain, can it be understood, treated, or accommodated? Why are some patients so cheerful despite their plights? What joy is innate in humanity?
The irreducible fact of life is that death is coming; Sacks of course realized this and celebrated what life he had left. This is logical, although it's sad for those of us who remain.
Sacks reflected on the future:
“I rejoice when I meet gifted young people — even the one who biopsied and diagnosed my metastases. I feel the future is in good hands. I have been increasingly conscious, for the last 10 years or so, of deaths among my contemporaries. My generation is on the way out, and each death I have felt as an abruption, a tearing away of part of myself. There will be no one like us when we are gone, but then there is no one like anyone else, ever. When people die, they cannot be replaced. They leave holes that cannot be filled, for it is the fate — the genetic and neural fate — of every human being to be a unique individual, to find his own path, to live his own life, to die his own death.
“I cannot pretend I am without fear. But my predominant feeling is one of gratitude. I have loved and been loved; I have been given much and I have given something in return; I have read and traveled and thought and written. I have had an intercourse with the world, the special intercourse of writers and readers. Above all, I have been a sentient being, a thinking animal, on this beautiful planet, and that in itself has been an enormous privilege and adventure.”
In the end, it's wholly appropriate that Sacks would find time to write his way through his final months, finishing up books, and sharing his thoughts as he approached the inevitable. What remains is not just a large body of his work, but the memory of a man who recognized his own position among his fellows, who took it upon himself to heal when he could, to explain when he could, and simply to live when that was what remained as his legacy.
Thursday, September 17, 2015
THE PAST DIVINED FUTURE
Study the past to divine the future. --- Confucius
It is hard to argue against a master's pure thought.
Human beings do dwell on the past in order to divine or predict their future.
They do so in work: if I did X,Y, and Z then I should get that promotion.
They do so in relationships: if I did A,B, C with Lady One in the past but that did not work out, if I do X, Y, Z with Lady Two I will have a better relationship with her.
Sometimes, we get trapped in the past. When the "what if" scenarios begin to consume your thinking and reflecting time, you get caught up in the past which freezes the present to cause a fantasized future hope.
If you replace the "what if" with a more proactive, positive "what's next" attitude, then you are living in the present with a better outlook for the future.
This is best observed when people date and break up. Depending on how sudden or blindsided the break was, two things can happen. One, some can hide in the past (the good memories) to the point where they obsessive chase to get their former lover back in the future. Their future is a time loop of disillusion and rejection. Failure. Two, some can let go of the past to the point where they can move on to find a better friend and lover. Their future is moving forward into the future with confidence and new awareness based upon experience. Progress.
The perfect character study for this behavior pattern was John Locke.
Locke carried with him additional baggage from his childhood abandonment issues, and added more baggage with each failed relationship. His past haunted his present and clouded his future.
His obsession with his con man father, even after he conned him out of a kidney, destroyed the best relationship he ever had with another person, Helen.
In the real world, he found a woman who loved him for who he was, but since Locke had so much personal baggage unresolved in his mind (that he could not love himself enough to be loved), he effectively destroyed the best chance he had for happiness.
And even if one considers the sideways world as Locke's "fantasy" future to try to get Helen back after their final break up on the mainland (island time frame), that did not work out either since Locke ended the series alone in the church.
Human beings try to project future happiness upon themselves. But just fantasizing about it will not make it happen. Action speaks louder than words. Action also speaks more to obtaining a new future than just thinking about it.
Locke never tried to replace Helen in his life. And that was his down fall. His failing. His past ruining his future because once he realized that Helen was very good to him (and for him), it was too late. He could have went back into the dating pool to find a new Helen (learn from his past mistakes) but he was too afraid. He envisioned himself as some grand outback warrior, but that was pure fantasy clouding his judgment and detouring him from real, tangible goals.
And this trap is what makes people have lonely lives.
It is hard to argue against a master's pure thought.
Human beings do dwell on the past in order to divine or predict their future.
They do so in work: if I did X,Y, and Z then I should get that promotion.
They do so in relationships: if I did A,B, C with Lady One in the past but that did not work out, if I do X, Y, Z with Lady Two I will have a better relationship with her.
Sometimes, we get trapped in the past. When the "what if" scenarios begin to consume your thinking and reflecting time, you get caught up in the past which freezes the present to cause a fantasized future hope.
If you replace the "what if" with a more proactive, positive "what's next" attitude, then you are living in the present with a better outlook for the future.
This is best observed when people date and break up. Depending on how sudden or blindsided the break was, two things can happen. One, some can hide in the past (the good memories) to the point where they obsessive chase to get their former lover back in the future. Their future is a time loop of disillusion and rejection. Failure. Two, some can let go of the past to the point where they can move on to find a better friend and lover. Their future is moving forward into the future with confidence and new awareness based upon experience. Progress.
The perfect character study for this behavior pattern was John Locke.
Locke carried with him additional baggage from his childhood abandonment issues, and added more baggage with each failed relationship. His past haunted his present and clouded his future.
His obsession with his con man father, even after he conned him out of a kidney, destroyed the best relationship he ever had with another person, Helen.
In the real world, he found a woman who loved him for who he was, but since Locke had so much personal baggage unresolved in his mind (that he could not love himself enough to be loved), he effectively destroyed the best chance he had for happiness.
And even if one considers the sideways world as Locke's "fantasy" future to try to get Helen back after their final break up on the mainland (island time frame), that did not work out either since Locke ended the series alone in the church.
Human beings try to project future happiness upon themselves. But just fantasizing about it will not make it happen. Action speaks louder than words. Action also speaks more to obtaining a new future than just thinking about it.
Locke never tried to replace Helen in his life. And that was his down fall. His failing. His past ruining his future because once he realized that Helen was very good to him (and for him), it was too late. He could have went back into the dating pool to find a new Helen (learn from his past mistakes) but he was too afraid. He envisioned himself as some grand outback warrior, but that was pure fantasy clouding his judgment and detouring him from real, tangible goals.
And this trap is what makes people have lonely lives.
Saturday, September 5, 2015
SIMPLE
Ockham's Razor is a philosophy described by
the following eponymous laws:
"With all things being equal, the simplest explanation tends to be the right one"
The complexity and tangential aspect of the LOST stories makes it hard to find the simple explanation for the show. The Big Premise may be lurking in the shadow of many other story tropes.
We have tried to digest the story lines from front to back, and back (ending) to start (landing on the island). There are so many u-turns, dead ends and filler arcs (like the other 48 days) it makes it hard to separate the wheat from the chaff.
The simplest question to ask may be "what was LOST about?" The snarky answer would be "about six years." But in a basic review, the answers could include:
1. A survival story of plane crash victims on a Pacific Island.
2. A story of lost people trying to find purpose in their miserable lives.
3. The secret lives between strangers trapped in an uncomfortable situation.
4. The fantasy dream world of an individual or group of individuals.
5. A metaphoric journey from life to death.
"With all things being equal, the simplest explanation tends to be the right one"
The complexity and tangential aspect of the LOST stories makes it hard to find the simple explanation for the show. The Big Premise may be lurking in the shadow of many other story tropes.
We have tried to digest the story lines from front to back, and back (ending) to start (landing on the island). There are so many u-turns, dead ends and filler arcs (like the other 48 days) it makes it hard to separate the wheat from the chaff.
The simplest question to ask may be "what was LOST about?" The snarky answer would be "about six years." But in a basic review, the answers could include:
1. A survival story of plane crash victims on a Pacific Island.
2. A story of lost people trying to find purpose in their miserable lives.
3. The secret lives between strangers trapped in an uncomfortable situation.
4. The fantasy dream world of an individual or group of individuals.
5. A metaphoric journey from life to death.
Saturday, August 1, 2015
WORDS FROM TED
People are often unreasonable, illogical and self centered;
Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.
Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you've got, and you will get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you've got anyway.
by Ted Nugent.
Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you've got, and you will get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you've got anyway.
by Ted Nugent.
Friday, April 17, 2015
THE SUDDEN END
LOST's writing and creative staff admired how The Sopranos ended even though it left many viewers and critics baffled by it.
The Sopranos was one of the most controversial endings in television history. The camera suddenly cuts to black after a quick shot of Tony Soprano looking up from his plate of onion rings in a small town New Jersey diner, loyal viewers were left, quite literally, in the dark as to the fate of the beloved/reviled mobster. Did he die? Did he live? No one, except the show’s creator David Chase, knows for sure. In the past, Chase has rebuffed any suggestion of any fan’s conclusion to his series.
That said, in DGA Quarterly, Chase goes into a lengthy, incredibly detailed, and wildly fascinating dissection of this memorable finale. He breaks down the action shot-by-shot, giving hardcore fans unprecedented access into his thought process and directing choices, including some awesome insight into why he chose Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin'” to score the scene:
I love the timing of the lyric when Carmela enters: ‘Just a small town girl livin’ in a lonely world, she took the midnight train goin’ anywhere.’ Then it talks about Tony: ‘Just a city boy,’ and we had to dim down the music so you didn’t hear the line, ‘born and raised in South Detroit.’ The music cuts out a little bit there, and they’re speaking over it. ‘He took the midnight train goin’ anywhere.’ And that to me was [everything]. I felt that those two characters had taken the midnight train a long time ago. That is their life. It means that these people are looking for something inevitable. Something they couldn’t find. I mean, they didn’t become missionaries in Africa or go to college together or do anything like that. They took the midnight train going anywhere. And the midnight train, you know, is the dark train.
I said to Gandolfini, the bell rings and you look up. That last shot of Tony ends on ‘don’t stop,’ it’s mid-song. I’m not going to go into [if that’s Tony’s POV]. I thought the possibility would go through a lot of people’s minds or maybe everybody’s mind that he was killed … I thought the ending would be somewhat jarring, sure. But not to the extent it was, and not a subject of such discussion. I really had no idea about that. I never considered the black a shot. I just thought what we see is black. The ceiling I was going for at that point, the biggest feeling I was going for, honestly, was don’t stop believing. It was very simple and much more on the nose than people think. That’s what I wanted people to believe. That life ends and death comes, but don’t stop believing. There are attachments we make in life, even though it’s all going to come to an end, that are worth so much, and we’re so lucky to have been able to experience them. Life is short. Either it ends here for Tony or some other time. But in spite of that, it’s really worth it. So don’t stop believing.
To Chase’s credit (and to most people’s frustration), he still does not give a definitive answer as to Tony’s fate.
Some critics still think the Sopranos ending, like LOST's, was a creative cop-out. A few infer that the creative minds drew so many plot tangents and mysteries the creator's well had run dry on how to wrap things up. Even LOST's showrunners have stumbled upon the vague explanation that the show's finale was about "bigger questions," like life and death.
What was Chase trying to say? That life ends and death comes, but don’t stop believing. There are attachments we make in life, even though it’s all going to come to an end, that are worth so much, and we’re so lucky to have been able to experience them. Life is short.
Everyone can agree "Life is short," but so is the conclusion of someone's favorite weekly entertainment show. Mankind is all about curiosity, exploration, relationships, causes and effects. And answers - - - we need to continually need to final answers otherwise we would apathy and sink like a shark who stops swimming.
But in the Sopranos ending, viewers had a cue to the long history of gangster film tropes, especially the quaint family diner "hits" by a character's rivals. And many assumed Tony got what he deserved as he looked from his plate when diner door opened . . . but others could presume a fate worse than death such as the FBI arresting him, or an old girlfriend coming in to make a scene to destroy his family. Which such a sudden ending without more, fans were left to their own imagination to figure out what happened next.
LOST's showrunners also keep going down this path, in interviews saying it was never their intent to answer "all the questions and mysteries." In fact, they boast proudly of not answering the big questions. But one of the bargains in the creator-consumer entertainment complex is that the viewer or reader is not to being tricked into thinking that the time, energy and resources given to the show, film or book was for naught. A creator who takes a path of creating mysteries is bound by this implied contract with his audience to answer what he created for them. Despite LOST being a highly fan-interactive show, it was not up to the fans to write their own ending to their series.
Yes, creators and writers have the right to see their personal vision to their end. But then they should at least have the decency to explain their ending to questioning fans. Otherwise, there is a smoldering resentment that carries on long after the series' end.
The Sopranos was one of the most controversial endings in television history. The camera suddenly cuts to black after a quick shot of Tony Soprano looking up from his plate of onion rings in a small town New Jersey diner, loyal viewers were left, quite literally, in the dark as to the fate of the beloved/reviled mobster. Did he die? Did he live? No one, except the show’s creator David Chase, knows for sure. In the past, Chase has rebuffed any suggestion of any fan’s conclusion to his series.
That said, in DGA Quarterly, Chase goes into a lengthy, incredibly detailed, and wildly fascinating dissection of this memorable finale. He breaks down the action shot-by-shot, giving hardcore fans unprecedented access into his thought process and directing choices, including some awesome insight into why he chose Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin'” to score the scene:
I love the timing of the lyric when Carmela enters: ‘Just a small town girl livin’ in a lonely world, she took the midnight train goin’ anywhere.’ Then it talks about Tony: ‘Just a city boy,’ and we had to dim down the music so you didn’t hear the line, ‘born and raised in South Detroit.’ The music cuts out a little bit there, and they’re speaking over it. ‘He took the midnight train goin’ anywhere.’ And that to me was [everything]. I felt that those two characters had taken the midnight train a long time ago. That is their life. It means that these people are looking for something inevitable. Something they couldn’t find. I mean, they didn’t become missionaries in Africa or go to college together or do anything like that. They took the midnight train going anywhere. And the midnight train, you know, is the dark train.
I said to Gandolfini, the bell rings and you look up. That last shot of Tony ends on ‘don’t stop,’ it’s mid-song. I’m not going to go into [if that’s Tony’s POV]. I thought the possibility would go through a lot of people’s minds or maybe everybody’s mind that he was killed … I thought the ending would be somewhat jarring, sure. But not to the extent it was, and not a subject of such discussion. I really had no idea about that. I never considered the black a shot. I just thought what we see is black. The ceiling I was going for at that point, the biggest feeling I was going for, honestly, was don’t stop believing. It was very simple and much more on the nose than people think. That’s what I wanted people to believe. That life ends and death comes, but don’t stop believing. There are attachments we make in life, even though it’s all going to come to an end, that are worth so much, and we’re so lucky to have been able to experience them. Life is short. Either it ends here for Tony or some other time. But in spite of that, it’s really worth it. So don’t stop believing.
To Chase’s credit (and to most people’s frustration), he still does not give a definitive answer as to Tony’s fate.
Some critics still think the Sopranos ending, like LOST's, was a creative cop-out. A few infer that the creative minds drew so many plot tangents and mysteries the creator's well had run dry on how to wrap things up. Even LOST's showrunners have stumbled upon the vague explanation that the show's finale was about "bigger questions," like life and death.
What was Chase trying to say? That life ends and death comes, but don’t stop believing. There are attachments we make in life, even though it’s all going to come to an end, that are worth so much, and we’re so lucky to have been able to experience them. Life is short.
Everyone can agree "Life is short," but so is the conclusion of someone's favorite weekly entertainment show. Mankind is all about curiosity, exploration, relationships, causes and effects. And answers - - - we need to continually need to final answers otherwise we would apathy and sink like a shark who stops swimming.
But in the Sopranos ending, viewers had a cue to the long history of gangster film tropes, especially the quaint family diner "hits" by a character's rivals. And many assumed Tony got what he deserved as he looked from his plate when diner door opened . . . but others could presume a fate worse than death such as the FBI arresting him, or an old girlfriend coming in to make a scene to destroy his family. Which such a sudden ending without more, fans were left to their own imagination to figure out what happened next.
LOST's showrunners also keep going down this path, in interviews saying it was never their intent to answer "all the questions and mysteries." In fact, they boast proudly of not answering the big questions. But one of the bargains in the creator-consumer entertainment complex is that the viewer or reader is not to being tricked into thinking that the time, energy and resources given to the show, film or book was for naught. A creator who takes a path of creating mysteries is bound by this implied contract with his audience to answer what he created for them. Despite LOST being a highly fan-interactive show, it was not up to the fans to write their own ending to their series.
Yes, creators and writers have the right to see their personal vision to their end. But then they should at least have the decency to explain their ending to questioning fans. Otherwise, there is a smoldering resentment that carries on long after the series' end.
Saturday, August 9, 2014
THE SHOW
Many entertainment choices come with a build up of hype. Other entertainment choices come under the radar and surprise audiences. Hollywood films have built in PR machines to sell their summer blockbusters (which this year came off well under expectations at the box office), while smaller distributors hope for word of mouth or favorable reviews to jump start a good run.
LOST came in to the American culture in the latter mode. It started off simple enough: survivors of a plane crash land on a Pacific Island and have to work together in order to survive and be rescued. It is a familiar story with an ensemble cast of interesting people. Audiences were familiar with the survival story from literature (Robinson Caruso) to reality TV (Survivor). So it was fat worm thrown out into the airwaves for audiences to grab onto - - - and the hook was set with the appearance of a charging polar bear on a tropical island.
Whether the show began at that moment to lube its shark to prepare to jump through inconsistent plot twists is a minor debate point. But certainly, the philosophy of the show was set up the audience with familiar setting and island survival story elements, but then throw a tangential mystery at them. This diversion interrupts the normal viewer thought process of what they typically expect will happen next. This is fine in a murder-mystery story context, where different things that don't seem connected when first seen, somehow are woven into a complex fabric of story telling to build the final reveal and answer the big questions.
So when the show started off as a typical shipwreck survival story, then went down the path of a mystery novel, it further diverted down a path of science fiction, then jumped a gorge into the field of magic-fantasy, and then seemed to try to turn back to the beginning. But along the way, the main story context got lost. Yes, it seems ironic that LOST itself got lost in its own story lines.
But if one tries to diagram the various story lines like elementary school children used to do with sentence construction, I believe you'd find a bowl of messy and tangled spaghetti. The show could have been more palatable if the final season did not add more questions than answers. Or, at least, one big answer to tie together what the island was in relation to the sideways world.
The explanation that the sideways world as a purgatory of dead souls does not answer the overriding six year question of "what" the island was (as Charlie put it early on). No one can make a definitive answer to any of these questions:
What was the island?
Where was the island?
How does the island exist?
Why does the island exist?
When was the island created?
Why were the characters important?
The Show is like a poker player makes a huge bet during a game. The viewer then sees that bet and raises "all in." This is the climax of the game. The viewer has the rush of the gamble; will it pay off? But instead of seeing the cards, The Show folds leaving the viewer wondering whether it figured out the Show's hand or whether the Show was bluffing all along.
LOST came in to the American culture in the latter mode. It started off simple enough: survivors of a plane crash land on a Pacific Island and have to work together in order to survive and be rescued. It is a familiar story with an ensemble cast of interesting people. Audiences were familiar with the survival story from literature (Robinson Caruso) to reality TV (Survivor). So it was fat worm thrown out into the airwaves for audiences to grab onto - - - and the hook was set with the appearance of a charging polar bear on a tropical island.
Whether the show began at that moment to lube its shark to prepare to jump through inconsistent plot twists is a minor debate point. But certainly, the philosophy of the show was set up the audience with familiar setting and island survival story elements, but then throw a tangential mystery at them. This diversion interrupts the normal viewer thought process of what they typically expect will happen next. This is fine in a murder-mystery story context, where different things that don't seem connected when first seen, somehow are woven into a complex fabric of story telling to build the final reveal and answer the big questions.
So when the show started off as a typical shipwreck survival story, then went down the path of a mystery novel, it further diverted down a path of science fiction, then jumped a gorge into the field of magic-fantasy, and then seemed to try to turn back to the beginning. But along the way, the main story context got lost. Yes, it seems ironic that LOST itself got lost in its own story lines.
But if one tries to diagram the various story lines like elementary school children used to do with sentence construction, I believe you'd find a bowl of messy and tangled spaghetti. The show could have been more palatable if the final season did not add more questions than answers. Or, at least, one big answer to tie together what the island was in relation to the sideways world.
The explanation that the sideways world as a purgatory of dead souls does not answer the overriding six year question of "what" the island was (as Charlie put it early on). No one can make a definitive answer to any of these questions:
What was the island?
Where was the island?
How does the island exist?
Why does the island exist?
When was the island created?
Why were the characters important?
The Show is like a poker player makes a huge bet during a game. The viewer then sees that bet and raises "all in." This is the climax of the game. The viewer has the rush of the gamble; will it pay off? But instead of seeing the cards, The Show folds leaving the viewer wondering whether it figured out the Show's hand or whether the Show was bluffing all along.
Thursday, May 22, 2014
QUOTATION
Do
the things you used to talk about doing but never did. Know when to let
go and when to hold on tight. Stop rushing. Don't be intimidated to say
it like it is. Stop apologizing all the time. Learn to say no, so your
yes has some oomph. Spend time with the friends who lift you up, and cut
loose the ones who bring you down. Stop giving your power away. Be more
concerned with being interested than being interesting. Be old enough
to appreciate your freedom, and young enough to enjoy it. Finally know
who you are.
— Kristin Armstrong
Thursday, October 3, 2013
HUME PHILOSOPHY
Desmond Hume was also a name clue. Many people thought Desmond's character may be a reference to English philosopher David Hume (1711-1776).
Hume's position in ethics, which is based on his empiricist theory of the mind, is best known for asserting four theses: (1) Reason alone cannot be a motive to the will, but rather is the “slave of the passions” (2) Moral distinctions are not derived from reason (3) Moral distinctions are derived from the moral sentiments: feelings of approval (esteem, praise) and disapproval (blame) felt by spectators who contemplate a character trait or action (4) While some virtues and vices are natural others, including justice, are artificial. There is a great debate about what Hume actually meant by these positions. He defends them within the broader context of his metaethics and his ethic of virtue and vice.
Hume worked on the issues of ethics and political philosophy.
One is a question of moral epistemology: how do human beings become aware of, or acquire knowledge or belief about, moral good and evil, right and wrong, duty and obligation? Ethical theorists and theologians of the day held, variously, that moral good and evil are discovered: (a) by reason in some of its uses (Hobbes, Locke, Clarke), (b) by divine revelation (Filmer), (c) by conscience or reflection on one's (other) impulses (Butler), or (d) by a moral sense: an emotional responsiveness manifesting itself in approval or disapproval (Shaftesbury, Hutcheson). Hume sides with the moral sense theorists: we gain awareness of moral good and evil by experiencing the pleasure of approval and the uneasiness of disapproval when we contemplate a character trait or action from an imaginatively sensitive and unbiased point of view. Hume maintains against the rationalists that, although reason is needed to discover the facts of any concrete situation and the general social impact of a trait of character or a practice over time, reason alone is insufficient to yield a judgment that something is virtuous or vicious. In the last analysis, the facts as known must trigger a response by sentiment or “taste.”
A related but more metaphysical controversy would be stated thus today: what is the source or foundation of moral norms? In Hume's day this is the question what is the ground of moral obligation (as distinct from what is the faculty for acquiring moral knowledge or belief). Moral rationalists of the period such as Clarke (and in some moods, Hobbes and Locke) argue that moral standards or principles are requirements of reason — that is, that the very rationality of right actions is the ground of our obligation to perform them. Divine voluntarists of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries such as Samuel Pufendorf claim that moral obligation or requirement, if not every sort of moral standard, is the product of God's will. The moral sense theorists (Shaftesbury and Hutcheson) and Butler see all requirements to pursue goodness and avoid evil as consequent upon human nature, which is so structured that a particular feature of our consciousness (whether moral sense or conscience) evaluates the rest. Hume sides with the moral sense theorists on this question: it is because we are the kinds of creatures we are, with the dispositions we have for pain and pleasure, the kinds of familial and friendly interdependence that make up our life together, and our approvals and disapprovals of these, that we are bound by moral requirements at all.
Hume represents the following points:
1. A person's free will is not controlled by reason but one's passions.
2. Reason does not set morality.
3. Morality is determined by feelings of approval or disapproval felt by others to one's actions.
4. Virtues, vices, ethics and justice are artificial concepts in a natural world.
5. A person gains awareness of moral good and evil by experiencing the pleasure of approval and the uneasiness of disapproval from a character trait or action formed from family and friend interdependence bind everyone to a moral requirement.
In LOST, Desmond is a literal and figurative drifter. He drifts from job to job, career to religious order. He gets involved with women for pleasure, but runs away from the moral commitment of marriage. He seems to have a chip on his shoulder, that his poor station in life is just as good as the rich and powerful elite. But in order to prove that point, he must build up his own character by completing something great (like the solo boat race).
Desmond is also a contradiction. He is deeply in love with Penny, but in order to cement that bond, he must leave her for a suicidal boat race to impress her father. Many people would call that illogical - - - nuts. His moral compass is completely off. His decision making is formed by passion and not reason or sound judgment. Despite Penny's disapproval and anger, Desmond turns his back on any traditional moral ground to stay with Penny.
Once on the island, Desmond's life has no ethical or moral bearing. He has no free will. He classifies himself as a prisoner in a snow globe. He is filled with self-remorse, guilt, and delusion. He had lost Penny. But in all his decisions up to the island shipwreck, subconsciously, that is what Desmond wanted: his fate was not have any happiness with Penny or any other woman. His character was to be a dour nobody.
So Desmond's character really had nothing in common with David Hume's positions. Desmond was not the moral barometer for the show.
The side story of Desmond and Penny was not critical to the show's ending. Yes, Desmond became the livery driver to "awaken" the island survivors to their island memories - - - which in itself is an illogical construct - - - but that job could have been done by Charlie, who started to think outside the box before the concert, or even Libby getting Hurley to remember. Desmond was not associated or close to any of the sideways characters. His final position in the church reunion with Penny is another one of those odd inconsistencies in the ending.
Hume's position in ethics, which is based on his empiricist theory of the mind, is best known for asserting four theses: (1) Reason alone cannot be a motive to the will, but rather is the “slave of the passions” (2) Moral distinctions are not derived from reason (3) Moral distinctions are derived from the moral sentiments: feelings of approval (esteem, praise) and disapproval (blame) felt by spectators who contemplate a character trait or action (4) While some virtues and vices are natural others, including justice, are artificial. There is a great debate about what Hume actually meant by these positions. He defends them within the broader context of his metaethics and his ethic of virtue and vice.
Hume worked on the issues of ethics and political philosophy.
One is a question of moral epistemology: how do human beings become aware of, or acquire knowledge or belief about, moral good and evil, right and wrong, duty and obligation? Ethical theorists and theologians of the day held, variously, that moral good and evil are discovered: (a) by reason in some of its uses (Hobbes, Locke, Clarke), (b) by divine revelation (Filmer), (c) by conscience or reflection on one's (other) impulses (Butler), or (d) by a moral sense: an emotional responsiveness manifesting itself in approval or disapproval (Shaftesbury, Hutcheson). Hume sides with the moral sense theorists: we gain awareness of moral good and evil by experiencing the pleasure of approval and the uneasiness of disapproval when we contemplate a character trait or action from an imaginatively sensitive and unbiased point of view. Hume maintains against the rationalists that, although reason is needed to discover the facts of any concrete situation and the general social impact of a trait of character or a practice over time, reason alone is insufficient to yield a judgment that something is virtuous or vicious. In the last analysis, the facts as known must trigger a response by sentiment or “taste.”
A related but more metaphysical controversy would be stated thus today: what is the source or foundation of moral norms? In Hume's day this is the question what is the ground of moral obligation (as distinct from what is the faculty for acquiring moral knowledge or belief). Moral rationalists of the period such as Clarke (and in some moods, Hobbes and Locke) argue that moral standards or principles are requirements of reason — that is, that the very rationality of right actions is the ground of our obligation to perform them. Divine voluntarists of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries such as Samuel Pufendorf claim that moral obligation or requirement, if not every sort of moral standard, is the product of God's will. The moral sense theorists (Shaftesbury and Hutcheson) and Butler see all requirements to pursue goodness and avoid evil as consequent upon human nature, which is so structured that a particular feature of our consciousness (whether moral sense or conscience) evaluates the rest. Hume sides with the moral sense theorists on this question: it is because we are the kinds of creatures we are, with the dispositions we have for pain and pleasure, the kinds of familial and friendly interdependence that make up our life together, and our approvals and disapprovals of these, that we are bound by moral requirements at all.
Hume represents the following points:
1. A person's free will is not controlled by reason but one's passions.
2. Reason does not set morality.
3. Morality is determined by feelings of approval or disapproval felt by others to one's actions.
4. Virtues, vices, ethics and justice are artificial concepts in a natural world.
5. A person gains awareness of moral good and evil by experiencing the pleasure of approval and the uneasiness of disapproval from a character trait or action formed from family and friend interdependence bind everyone to a moral requirement.
In LOST, Desmond is a literal and figurative drifter. He drifts from job to job, career to religious order. He gets involved with women for pleasure, but runs away from the moral commitment of marriage. He seems to have a chip on his shoulder, that his poor station in life is just as good as the rich and powerful elite. But in order to prove that point, he must build up his own character by completing something great (like the solo boat race).
Desmond is also a contradiction. He is deeply in love with Penny, but in order to cement that bond, he must leave her for a suicidal boat race to impress her father. Many people would call that illogical - - - nuts. His moral compass is completely off. His decision making is formed by passion and not reason or sound judgment. Despite Penny's disapproval and anger, Desmond turns his back on any traditional moral ground to stay with Penny.
Once on the island, Desmond's life has no ethical or moral bearing. He has no free will. He classifies himself as a prisoner in a snow globe. He is filled with self-remorse, guilt, and delusion. He had lost Penny. But in all his decisions up to the island shipwreck, subconsciously, that is what Desmond wanted: his fate was not have any happiness with Penny or any other woman. His character was to be a dour nobody.
So Desmond's character really had nothing in common with David Hume's positions. Desmond was not the moral barometer for the show.
The side story of Desmond and Penny was not critical to the show's ending. Yes, Desmond became the livery driver to "awaken" the island survivors to their island memories - - - which in itself is an illogical construct - - - but that job could have been done by Charlie, who started to think outside the box before the concert, or even Libby getting Hurley to remember. Desmond was not associated or close to any of the sideways characters. His final position in the church reunion with Penny is another one of those odd inconsistencies in the ending.
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