Ferris Bueller, You're My Hero

John Hughes died a couple of weeks ago. Heart attack. That makes me feel old. That is, when one's idols of their youth start to pop off from the things that killed our grandparents, that oly serves to remind us how old we're all getting. That the chances of leaving that good-looking corpse gets slimmer and slimmer. I was thinking about how much (back in the 80s) John Hughes movies were, as they say nowadays, the shit. Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, Pretty In Pink, even Some Kind of Wonderful -- all classics of 80s teen cinema (and I must say much better in quality than Losin' It, The Last American Virgin or The Joy of Sex. Yes, there is a movie that shares its title with the Alex Comfort sex manual). I remember when these movies were the hottest thing worth watching, that everybody had their favorite movie from which to cull movie quotes a plenty; "what's happenin' hot stuff?", "you got my doobage?", "what about prom?!?" "roll 'em up!".... it goes on, and on. I decided, really because I had nothing better to do, to watch a John Hughes movie. I picked the 1986 Hughes flick, Ferris Bueller's Day off. That movie, of course contains the sage advice from Ferris, "life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it". The idea I guess, is that I'm supposed to learn the value of carpe dieming from a character that is still in high school. Personally, when I think back to how I was in high school, I remember that I was undre the delusion that I was smarter than the average bear. Thank God that I didn't follow my own advice! Anyway, I was watching Ferris and co., when it suddenly hit me. Maybe it's looking through the cynical eyes of someone past puberty, but I realized how horrible Ferris really was. I realized what self-indulgent jerks so many of Hughes' characters really are! Here's a taste: Farmer Ted is a date-rapist (he got Jake Ryan's girlfriend, with Jake's encouragement, no less, when she was drunk), Andy (Pretty In Pink) was a bitch, who in no way deserved Ducky, and the Griswolds were racists! These people were supposed to be like typical Americans. Yeah, I guess if you live in a world where amazingly enough, everybody is white, and the only minorities you encounter come right out of black acting school .I think, in retrospect, that John Hughes' American teenager was about as real as Shermer, Illinois. But back to Ferris. I think, of all of Hughes' main characters (with the possible exception of Kevin McAllister,the kid from Home Alone, who seems to know to set booby traps for intruders better than a seasoned Navy Seal), that Ferris Bueller is Hughes' biggest selfish ass. Despite the fact that all the "sportos, motorheads, geeks, sluts, bloods, wasteoids, dweebies, dickheads" all adore him and think he's a "righteous dude", Ferris, for my two bits, is an asshole. The whole day is devoted to his dicking off. For starters. He doesn't care if everyone else has to go to school or to work "on a day like this". Oh, no. It's all about the fact that Ferris can't be bothered by responsibility. That's what other people (like his sister Jeanie) do. He needs a day off! Ferris doesn't care when his BF Cameron tells him that he's sick. Ferris doesn't care about the fact that Cameron's (seeming abusive) father would certainly kill him if his prized 1961 Ferrari 250 GT California gets messed up ( and we know that it does). To have his day off, Ferris is wholeheartedly willing to lie to his parents, and to his principal. He pulls his girlfriend out of class (thus depriving her of a day of learning) by faking her grandmother's death, humiliates a maitre d' at the restaurant to prove his superiority, and eventually (in a all-eyes-on-me move) commandeers a German Day Parade float. The only time that Ferris shows any kind of remorse for what he does is when he feigns regret so that he can further exploit other people. Now, either Ferris manifests some sort of sociopathic personality disorder (mainly an extrene case of narcissistic personality) or, since I am a philosopher, and neither qualified nor willing to render a psychiatric diagnosis (especially for a character who does not exist), I'm more willing to say that Ferris is an egoist. Egoism, bare boned, is the idea that everyone ought to look after his own interests. This is because we are unable to know anyone else's needs or motivations. We only really know what we need or what motivates us. Therefore, the egoist says, not only are we restricted to seeing the world from our own point of view, but that (because of this fact) we are morally obligated to act in a manner that benefits ourselves. Happiness is achieved when one acts according to his own rational interests. In short short, egoists practice Kirk's inversion of Vulcan logic, in that an egoist, like Kirk, believes that the needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many. But enough Star Trek. The egoist is concerned about others in so far as his concern for others contributes to his own happiness. For example, I give to charity. Sure, I help the poor, but what I really want is pats on the back, maybe some civic award, a chance to meet the president, whatever. The point is,, is the fact that the less fortunate got some help was a bi-product of my wanting to be the center of attention. So when Ferris says to Cameron that the day was really for him, we know that Cameron's good day was a fortunate consequence to Ferris' egoist act. It seems that, since the day ended pretty good for everyone (well, Principal Rooney looked like he wasn't going to enjoy that bus ride), what's the harm in being selfish, so long as you don't hurt anybody? The people at school adore Ferris. Their lives are made better by the fact that he exists ( remember, they take up a collection to help him recover from his illness). Cameron finally gets the courage to stand up to his father. That's good, right? After all, being self-centered is a natural psychological disposition. Spend an afternoon with a chilod under 6 and it's fairly easy to see that this is the case. Being self- centered, from time to time, does is good. It's a survival machanism. So, if at the end of Ferris Bueller's Day Off, everyone is happy (especially Ferris -- and it is important that Ferris is happy), no harm no foul right? In a way, Ferris is a typical example of an egoist character. In many ways, he's not unlike Howard Roark, the protagoinist of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead. In her description of Roarke, Rand writes: "He is not militant or defiant about his utter selfishness... He has a quiet, irrevocable calm of an iron conviction. No dramatics, no hysteria, no sensitiveness about it - because there are no doubts... A quick, sharp mind, courageous and not afraid to be hurt, has long since grasped and understood completely that the world is not what he is and just exactly what the world is... He will be himself at any cost - the only thing he really wants of life. And, deep inside of him, he knows that he has the ability to win the right to be himself". Not only is Ferris an egoist, apparently, he's an Randian Objectivist. I don't know if this is what John Hughes had in mind when he created Ferris Bueller. I suspect that he did not. But, Ferris is a character who we see does not back down -- he lives his life on his own terms. This is why we like Ferris. This is why all the "sportos, motorheads, geeks, sluts," etal. adore him. We know that, deep down, we are Camerons, living a life that Thoreau said is lived in "quiet desperation", needing our Ferris to come to tell us that there is a lfe out there that we are missing. Hughes said that Ferris isn't "labored with all the difficulties that everyone else is". We know that because Jeanine, Ferris' sister, says that he "gets away" with everything. Ferris is a self-defined man who does not allow the obstacle of other people get in his way. Rand describes 3 fundamental values of man: reason, purpose, and self-esteem. Co-star Ben Stein described Ferris as having an "inner mobility" and "inner sense of freedom and self-confidence". Stein's description also falls in line with Rand's values. Ferris, is as Rand's ethics describes, a man who lives for his own sake -- is an end onto himself. The achievement of his happiness is his greates moral purpose in life. Ben Stein claims, however, that Ferris is not in it for himself. He is a great friend, Stein says, because he helps Cameron to liberate himself. I say this may be true, but as an egoist is sure to point out, Cameron's liberation is but a happy accident. A smart egoist knows that he cannot and should not prance about waving his egoism in everyone's faces (mostly for fear of being mistaken for an egotist, which is another individual altogether). Ferris, like many egoists, is very clever. Brian Medlin says that egoism has one, big problem -- namely that it is self-defeating. The only way that one can be a successful egoist is if one is closeted about it. Doing so supposedly also undermines egoism, as a good moral theory is one that we should be able to make public. Medlin writes, " what is he when he urges upon his audience that they should observe his own interests and those alone? Is he not acting contrary to the egoist principle? It cannot be to his advantage to convince them, for seizing always their own advantage they will impair his". So, if Medlin is correct, Ferris could not ring up Cameron and say, " hey Cam, as an egoist, I'm going to tke the day off. I'm going to spend the entire day devoted to pleasing me, and I'm going to exploit you and Sloane along the way. Wanna come along? By the way, bring your dad's car". This would not work, Medlin claims, because no one wants to live in a world where people only look after themselves. (And therefore, we toss out egoism). But, the key is is that exploiting others doesn't always mean that they are harmed. Really. Especially if you keep it a secret that that is what you are doing. So when Ferris borrows Cameron's pop's car, it's outwardly for Sloane. When Ferris humiliates the maitre d', it's because he's putting a snooty butthole in his place. When Ferris lip-syncs to "Twist and Shout" on the float, he's showing Cameron something good that day. The fact that Ferris was Ferris' main motivation didn't mean that others had to get hurt. Medlin and other haters tend to act as if being an egoist means that you're somewhere near the Marquis de Sade in how you treat others. Not so. The trick is that you don't go waving your egoist banner everywhere. If you have to tell other people that you're a Kantian, so be it. Just as longs as everyone (especially you) is happy. If you are successful, you can get exactly what you want, while everyone else thinks you're a righteous dude. All it takes it a little bit of obfuscation. And because no one admits that we're all in it for ourselves, everyone is happy. Especially Ferris. BTW: anyone get the feeling that Cameron didn't show the next day at school? or the next... or the next....

Philosophic Blah Blah Blah of a Star Trek Geek

I saw the latest Star Trek flick the other day. Like so many "purists" out there, I really wnated to hate it. Something to do with messing with a hallowed tradition, or some BS like that. I really wanted to leave the theater seething and declaring that Gene Roddenberry would be rolling in his grave at the travesty that passes itself off as a Star Trek movie. But I liked it. Not just moderately, but really liked it. Too bad. I was looking forward to a good rant. Now, if only someone would get hold of Star Wars... What I noticed, and liked, was the fact that it didn't have that typical/traditional Star Trek bash you over the head philosophic grandstanding that's usually passed off as "undertones" or "subtext". I found that a relief. But, a funny thing happened. The philosophic question just came. I was there, sitting in the darkened theater, and my mind started thinking. My brain actually started to look for some philsophic subtext to the plot. And eventually, I found one. Because of a slight time travel problem ( it wouldn't be Star Trek without some time travel, would it?), there results a pair of Spocks -- one older and one younger. Now, I thought, while munching on my sneeked in food, there are two Spocks, are they the same person? If I stuck the duo side by side and said something like, "Spock=Spock", would I be correct? Is this fact that I am putting forth analytically true? Putting age aside, the Spocks are the same genetically: they are both the son of the human woman Amanda and Vulcan Ambassador Sarek. They are the same, I presume, on the quantum level. And anything that is the same on the quantum level is identical, that is, itself. So, I would be forced to say yes, they are the same person. I'm not sure, since I'm no physicist, that there isn't some additional requirement that the Spocks have to occupy the same space to be exactly the same, or if the fact that they are not the same age makes them similar, but different. I don't know. But, even without considering any additional questions or possibilities, I feel that they, despite their quantum similarities, are not the same person. I know, from reading Quine, that if say, one spock was missing his left index finger, that we could easily say that the spocks are not the same person. Strikingly similar, but indeed not the same (as one is missing his left index finger). Like I said, I'm not sure if age functions the same as a missing finger. But, when we think of things like what makes us who we are, we tend to look beyond our physicality. We are, we say, more than our DNA. (Master Yoda says that we are more than "this crude matter". Yes, I mixed franchises. I am sci-bi after all.) We are made up of many things that comprise who we are: our experiences, our environment, our beliefs, thoughts and feelings all have to do with what makes us us. Our physical bodies may suggest something, but taken as a whole, we are something else -- that is, our bodies say what we are, but there is a matter of who we are ( and I don't think that the Existentialists are alone in suggesting this). In the much maligned Star Trek: Nemesis ( I still think this is one of the better flicks, despite the fact that they totally ignored the fact that Dr. Soong created more androids than data and B4), the explanation that Dr. Crusher gives to Captain Picard as to why he and Shinzon are not the same person is that their life experiences made them different people. Shinzon, for those who haven't seen the movie -- and plenty didn't, since it only grossed $43 million -- was a clone of Captain Picard. That means that Shinzon was an exact duplicate of the Captain. But, they had different lives. Picard grew up on earth, the son of a winemaker. Shinzon was raised on the Romulan moon Remus, where he was enslaved and mistreated by his Romulan captors. They shared the exact same DNA, but in essence, they were not the same person. The idea of essence has is connected to the fact that we do see personhood as something beyond the mere physical. "Person" is a loaded term. Being a person, as opposed to being a mere being, conveys a a uniqueness, perhaps even something transcendent within all of us. It is something that is unique to us as individuals that differentiates us from all others, including identical twins of clones. So, using this idea, I could say (spoiler alert) that one Spock , the younger one, lived in a timeline wherein he saw the death of his mother, the destruction of his homeworld Vulcan, and knew that James T. Kirk's father was killed before Kirk was born. The other, older Spock lived in an alternate timeline where Kirk shared his story about how his father watched him graduate from Starfleet Academy, and where his homeworld still existed (presumably), or at the very least his mother wasn't killed when Vulcan was destroyed. Their experiences make them different. It's not beyond the possibility that experiences make us physically different as well. We know that we can influence ourselves physically with our own minds. anyone who has ever thought himself sick or worried about a midterm to the point of puking knows this. We know that what we think can change ourselves internally. A brain of a person suffering from depression looks different from a person who does not. A brain that is injured by accident or drug use or whatever else looks different from a healthy brain. So, one might postulate that it may be possible to tell which Sopck is which from looking at their brains. The older Spock might, due to his life experiences (ones that the younger Spock did not have), show differences on an MRI that we would not see in the younger Spock. If this is so, then we have additional physical evidence to say that they merely look alike, but are not the same person. OK, I know. I know that this one wasn't supposed to lay on the heavy philosophic stuff. This one isn't supposed to lead to heavy philosophic discussions, and I should accept that this one is a early summer action flick. So, I'll end on this note: the special effects were great (especially the scene when the Enterprise comes out of warp speed in the middle of a debris field), and Zachary Quinto's Spock -- totally hot.

Rage With the Machines

First off, even though I'm a fan of the band (Rage Against the Machine), I still don't quite get what the name means. I know that there's "THE MAN" out there, and that I'm supposed to fight against him and his endeavor to bring on the New World Order, but .... wait, is that it? Anyway... I, being the fan of truly hideous entertainment, purchased season 1 of Knight Rider some weeks ago. It sat on my shelf looking at me looking at it, until I finally had some time to take it down and watch. Now, I used to really dig that show when I was a kid, but somehow all of my childhood memories paint things as being so much better than they really were. This show sucks ass! It's not for the fact that the whole show is built around some dude who drives a talking car-- it's not for the fact that watching David Hasselfoff's acting is something like getting kneed to the groin or having to eat your dog's feces. It's the wardrobe! Really, so far as the 80s went, clothes-wise, well... you know how when you're talking to someone and they have this totally huge zit on their forehead and no matter how hard you try to pay attention to what they're saying, you know it just won't happen? Well, the clothes are like that. Big pimples. Especially "The Hoff''s" eighties poodle -doo. I was so distracted, unfortunately, that I almost missed the point -- that is, a major philosophical point -- in the show. Which brings me to the whole idea of machines. Former cop, Michael Knight, oops, Michael Long, is transformed into Michael Knight after being shot and left for dead by some shady underworld types. Because Long took a shot to the kisser, he is given a new face (it seems that the didn't make sure that the original owner of that face was dead, but then, if they did it wouldn't have allowed Hasselhoff to play his evil doppleganger Garth Knight), and is persuaded by the Knight Foundation to serve their purposes, which is, good for Long, fighting injustice. And more importantly, he's given the keys to the sweetest, kick-ass black Trans-Am this side of My Mother the Car , the Knight Industries 2000, better known as KITT. The bitchin' thing about KITT is the fact that he speaks! Yes, Michael Knight's new "partner" is a talking car. But KITT is no ordinary car, mind you. He's super fast, he's a super computer, and he can jump without even so much as making the slightest skid mark upon landing. He's a super car. KITT (with the voice of William "Mr. Feeney" Daniels), spares no opportunity to remind Michael that, despite his human-like qualities (his ability to converse rationally, his accidental sense of humor, the fact that he's a smart-ass), that he's not human. KITT is a car and he knows it. We know that he is a car. Yet, Michael and we, the audience, care for KITT. We worry when he is in danger, and we enjoy his company. To us and to Michael as well, KITT is more than a mere machine. He's a trusted friend, a part of the family. But, this attitude seems a little odd. Sure, we have no problem including non-humans into our moral sphere -- we do it with our pets and our so-workers and classmates, but we often draw a line when it comes to things that are really not human, like machines. But, we still feel a sense of moral attachment to things like KITT. KITT is no ordinary machine. He interacts with us, he seems to care about us, and in turn, we care about him. On more than one occasion, Michael endangers his own life to save his car. Let me repeat that he endangers his own life to save his car. To some viewers, Michael's act seems a little, well, strange. Afterall, KITT is a car. If he is destroyed, he can be rebuilt. Michael Knight, however, is not rebuildable. If He dies, he stays dead forever. Which begs (in the colloquial, not philosophic sense) us to ask, is treating a machine like KITT, that is is the inclusion of a machine into our moral sphere (to the extent that we are willing to lay our lives on the line for a machine), extending to inclusion of non-humans into our moral sphere too far? Would we be including machines to our own peril? For most of the history of western philosophy, humans sat squarely at the top of all creation. From the Bible to Aristotle's hierarchy, mankind's (and more specifically males) natural place was that of ruler. According to Aristotle, animals were mere tools to serve man's needs. A donkey was there to pull carts, a dog to keep watch over property, and so on. Man was to administer over the lower animals, and animals were to serve man's will. According to Aristotle, this was because man (and he did mean man) was endowed with a rational mind. Man's rational mind enabled him to control his lower, animal inpulses and desires (this is also why Aristotle thought that women were not naturally superior to men. Apparently, women have some sort of wandering uterus problem that makes them all crazy-like and unable in any way to control themselves or anything else. Anyone else have the feeling that Aristotle didn't date much?). Anyway, where was I? Was I anywhere? Oh, yes, modern philospophy (and I mean modern as in 20th century) challenged the old notions of human superiority and brought in the animals. Starting with Darwin and his tehory of natural selection, modern thinkers rethought the idea that the natural order included mankind at its top. Philosophers such as Peter Singer suggested that we expand our moral sphere to include animals, due to the fact that animals, like humans, possess the capacity for suffering. So, my dog may be a mere machine, in the eyes of Descartes, but it is a machine that has the capacity to suffer. So, according to Singer and all the other animal rights loonies, he's in. But, that's it. Descartes saw animals such as dogs and cats as mere machines. They serve us just as any artifact that a man creates with his own hands serves his needs. According to Aristotle, artifacts such as art and technology fall outside of nature and are mere tools meant to serve man's needs. We can see why modern philosophers include animals -- they fear, they feel pain, they bleed and suffer as any human. But, KITT is a machine. He knows that he is a machine. But, we see that KITT has something that other machines do not -- an ability to interact with humans on a human level. I was watching an episode of Star Trek: TNG not too long ago. The episode had to do with whether Data was a person. In the episode, Captain Picard argued that the argument that Data was not a person because he is a mere machine falls apart in light of the fact that humans, if you look at ourselves from the biological level, are also mere machines. We are machines, just of a different type, Picard says. Instead of wires, we have veins and arteries. Instead of oil and lubricant, we have blood. But if you lay out the systems side by side, they are more the same than different. What made Data human, Picard argued, was not hois physicality, but his psychology. Data was self aware, intelligent, and (perhaps) possessed consciousness. According to Picard, Data was a sentient being who, despite being a machine, had what we would, in any other circumstance, humanity. I think that, if we look at KITT, we might say the same. KITT, like Data, is self aware. He refers to himself as "I", and is aware of his place in the environment. He is intelligent (more so than any human). As the show progressed, KITT's character became even more human-like, expressing complex emotions such as anger, sorrow and compassion. KITT, in some instances, is more human than some humans. It is worth noting here that this is also a point expressed by Singer and others. The idea that animals should not be included in our moral sphere because they lack human qualities such as complex human emotions, includes some animals such as chimpanzees (and some dogs and cats), and excludes some people, such as the mentally handicapped persons. This gets us to a very nagging and really hard question: what makes humans unique? The essence of the question is what makes us human? Back in the day, computers were just mere computing machines. They did exactly as their programmers wanted them to do. Unfortunately for us, many modern computers already perform functions that human brains can do. Computers can solve complex problems, and learn, as when in May 1997, the computer Big Blue formulated a winning chess strategy to beat champion chess player, Gary Kasparov. Anyone who has played a video game knows that the computer can be a formidable enemy -- especially when you are aware of the fact that, as you play, the computer is learning from your playing style ( and figuring out how to defeat you). The fear that underlies this fact is what Captain Picard asked Dr. Maddox to consider in that episode of Star Trek, which is the possibility that a computer may become conscious of its own existence. Nevermind mere Datas of even a C-3PO, our fear is Wargames' "Joshua" or The Terminator's Skynet -- the computer that becomes self aware, figures out what the problem is (read:us), and immediately sets out a plan for total and permanent human destruction. Ok, let's not go quite that far, but let's consider the computer that becomes conscious. If it does, then what is it? I think that we can no longer call it a "mere" machine. We often think of ourselves as evolving, namely because we gain knowledge and wisdom as we grow. This idea is often connected to the idea that our conscious minds possess more than our mere physicality. Our minds, being self-aware, possess something transcendent -- a soul. Is it possible for a computer to gain a soul? Still, let's not go there. We can't even figure out if humans, let alone any car or android has a soul. Think of this as food for thought. Or at worst, a warning of a grim future. But let's get back to KITT. KITT, although he insists that he does not, has emotions. And for many, the ability to possess and exhibit emotions is enough for inclusion into our moral sphere ( this is why we often give human qualities to our pets). The ability to express even rudimentary emotions is enough for inclusion. But still, for many people, even those who support animal rights, animals are just that -- animals. Not human. Although we don't want animals to suffer, they aren't us. That is, they aren't humans. Many humans feel that there is something unique about humans that (still) place us apart (if even only slightly) from other animals. Perhaps what lurks behind our need to separate ourselves from animals (and I'm assuming talking cars) is some sort of Nietzschean fear of losing ourselves morally. It goes, I think, like this: Nietzsche spoke of the degradation of Man by the overtaking of master morality by slave morality. This takeover upsets the natural order and plunges humanity into the abyss (culturally, morally, etc.). Naturally, man lords over animals and machines ( master morality). Our machines are our slaves. The fear is that, if we elevate machines to our level, we lose our place -- our place becomes meaningless. If all is equal, then all loses its value! Men are no more than machines. Lowly, crappy machines to be discarded when they lose their usefulness. Worse to come is the venerated machine that gets to dictate the fates of men. It's like being bossed around by your dog or wife. Totally unnatural! Which reminds me of a scene in Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones. There's the scene where C-3PO is in the droid factory. He sees the machines making other machines and is disgusted by what he sees. He calls the whole scene "perverse". 3PO's attitude reflects the classic philosophical view of the roles of man and machines. Machines are mere tools to be used by me to create, not as devices of creation themselves. A machine who creates, according to this view, would be considered unnatural. If we enter a day when machines have evolved to the point that they are indistinguishable from people, we would have something to worry about -- the ursurpation of man's role. I'm not exactly talking about armies of T-2000s walking around, but there is a fear that, if a machine can do the work faster and more efficiently than any human, then it may be the human who becomes obsolete. As of now, a machine need a human for its creation. Cars may be built by robots in a factory, but if you trace back the line of creation, you'll run into a human in there somewhere. Many people say that our ability to create is what sets us apart from other animals. A monkey can draw on a canvas or a robot can put a Toyota together at the factory, but real creativity is born in the mind of a human. That's true right now, but if a machine gains consciousness, we may very well see feeling, creative machines, who create art, not because they downloaded a pattern or calculated what would be aesthetically pleasing, but created a truly inspired piece of art as any human would create. If machines can do everything people do, the real question is what purpose will we serve? This makes me think about that movie Maximum Overdrive. If you haven't seen this movie, consider yourself lucky. But, long story short, the story involves a machine takeover. The machines literally rise up and turn on their masters. Theres a scene in the movie when this woman is screaming at the big rigs parked outside of a diner "We made You!". She, I think, expresses the sentiment than many humans would feel towards even the smartest, most human machine. A machine is a product of man. Anything beyond the world of man as creator disturbs the natural order of things. It may "feel" or "create", it may speak in the very erudite voice of William Daniels, and look like Cherry 2000, but all in all, it's a machine. It is a tool and should remain so. And this may be fine so long as the most advanced computer still needs a human creator or operator, or if Data or KITT remain anomalies. Throughout the run of Knight Rider, the only other talking car was KARR, the other car that was built by Knight Industries that belonged to that Garth guy that I mentioned earlier. And throughout the run of Star Trek :TNG, there was only Data, his "brother" Lore, his "daughter" Lal (who malfunctioned and had to be dismantled), and Dr. Soong's ladyfriend who had no idea that she was an android. I forgot her name. Anyway, as Captain Picard said to Maddox, our real problem comes when the smart machine stops being the anomaly. Picard asks Maddox, what if there are a thousand Datas? a million? A million KITTs could be as easily a curse as a blessing. If machines can create, humans may not only end up fighting obsolescence, but also searching for justification. So, in the future, the big question may be answering why we are here. And this may not be too far off. But, perhaps what we should fear isn't replacement with machines or even searching for justification for the human race. The future may not be one of moral inclusion as merging with machines. Futurist Ray Kurzweil says that there may come a day when computers will surpass us in intelligence and "irrevocably alter what it means to be human" (Rolling Stone issue 1072, "When Man and Machine Merge" by David Kushner). Kurzweil says that superintelligent nanotechnology will eventually merge with people, getting rid of diseases, making us smarter, and storing our memories as well. Kurzweil says that it totally possible that humanity will become obsolete, as people interact and become dependent more and more on machines. If you don't think we've already started, some futurists say, think look at your cell phone, your ipod, pace makers and your dog's implant meant to identify him if he gets lost. According to some, the merge between man and machine, what they call "The Singularity", has already begun. However, Kurzweil says that we need not worry about becoming obsolete (although he says it's not beyond the realm of possibility). Kurzweil says that the future will be " a human-machine civilization... we're not obsolescing ourselves -- we're extending ourselves". There are detractors, however, who believe that "The Singularity" is more science fiction as science probability. Biologist Thomas Ray says that it is unlikely that computers will advance enough to meet the point of "The Singularity". Philosopher John Searle says (and I love this), "I think the Singularity is demonstrably bullshit... but that doesn't alter the fact that it's very thrilling". So what do we think? What does thnking about KITT or Data or my cell phone's ring tones mean for us morally? What it means it that we, humans will face a future that will call us to alter the way that we think about life and what it means for something to count as a fellow living being, entitled to all the rights that we feel that we and other beings are entitled to. As the human race evolves, so to does our moral sphere. To many of us, KITT is considerable for inclusion, at the very least. For a few more, he is not only considerable, but fully included as we would include any being that we care about or for whom we feel lorally obligated. The Singularity may be a festering pile of bullshit, but then, when has that ever stopped a thought experiment? Possible worlds, anyone?

What To Write When You Have Absolutely Nothing Useful To Say

Chuck Klosterman wrote that science fiction is philosophy for stupid people. I don't disagree. I heard somewhere or from someone that philosophy is all about probing and nuance -- the philosopher seeks to find the meaning behind the meaning. I guess if that's the case, then the clobber you over the head style of Star Trek really doesn't leave room for guesswork. I'm not slamming Star Trek. Hey, I'm a fan. But sometimes it really -- well... ok, you've got a multiethnic, multiracial, intergalactic cast (did we hit all of the bases, here?), top it all off with TV's first interracial kiss (despite the fact that Kirk and Uhura were forced to do it), and a Russian guy who pronounces his 'v's like 'w's -- well, do we have to look too hard to see where this is all going? * you want to know how unsubtle Star Trek is? There's an episode where there are these dudes that have black on one side of their faces and white on the other. They are having this big conflict with people who have white on one side of their faces and black on the other. That's symbolic of... well, can you guess? By the way, the Russian alphabet has a 'v' in it. I know. I endured two years of that blasted language in high school. My point is, is that, even as a philosopher, I kind of like my thinking to go easy. I don't like subtle or nuanced. I like in your face, I like flashpots, and fireworks, and subtitles! I like movies with full frontal nudity for absolutely no reason whatsoever that show violence in slow motion (wow, I drifted a little into Dennis Leary-land there). I used to sit in class and try to find ways to explain the most complex philosophical theory in one sentence of less. Because, I realized, I'm really a stupid person. What's worse is that I'm a stupid person who realizes how stupid I am, yet maintains the delusion that I am smarter than other people. I guess, now that I'm thinking the word isn't so much smarter than cleverer. Afterall, I managed to snare a philosophy degree, didn't I? But then, if I were clever at all, I would have pursued something a little more marketable than a career in philosophy, wouldn't I? No, no, this won't do. I've got to lay off the negativity. It really is counterproductive. Now I know what all of those yahoos on Jerry Springer are going through! You know, the guy on the panel who is married to the woman who is sleeping around with his dad, his brother and half of the guys in (insert derogatory redneck term here) who insists that he still loves "his woman"? That's me. I've gotten nothing but pain from philosophy. She sleeps around and makes other little theories that I don't like and don't want to take care of with other people, makes me feel intellectually inadequate and humiliates me in public, but I love her. I'll stick with her even if she takes me on national TV and parades every guy with no teeth and hockey hair that she's slept with in front of my face. I'm smitten. I'm the faithful idiot. I'm not even a useful idiot! Wait a minute. Where is all of this going? I think that, besides going absolutely nowhere with this, what I want to say all of this is working up to what I am about to confess right here and now: I once accused someone that I know (and that's "know" in the sense that I more know of him than know him) on several occasions of being a "fence rider". It all has to do with my objections to agnosticism and my position that someone who wants to profess any sort of belief in God should pick a side. Either go full-on atheist or pick a religion. Since I have picked a side (also condemning myself to eternal hellfire and damnation), I, for the life of me, can't figure out why someone would ever claim being an agnostic. But that's just a personal problem. Apparently others can handle 'we can't really be sure if there's a God, so I'm not going to make a guess' better than I. Well, I confess. As someone who had the gall ( I would have written 'balls", but that would have been a little crude) to say that I'm a "secular christian" I admit that I am the biggest fence rider of all -- the atheist who claims that they still have "christian" values. Besides being a bit of a contradiction, it's just plain stupid. But then, I don't deny being that, either. Oh wait, I think that Star Trek:TNG might be coming on Spike right now. Gotta go. Enter the banjos!

On Being Sci-bi: Star Wars, Star Trek and Why Being and Unfeeling Android is Better Than Being a Neurotic 'Droid

I was listening to NPR today. There was this philosopher guy who wrote a book about dolphins and why we should be concerned about them. It reminded me of a class that I had awhile back about moral status. We read some Peter Singer. My opinions about Singer aside, I appreciated his efforts to get us to realize that we humans aren't the only life on this planet. But, as a human, I still have that problem with taking any life that doesn't look human seriously. I don't go around smashing hamsters or nailing dogs to walls, but I am willing to admit that I suffer from the all-too-common humans first syndrome. As well as having a fondness for philosophy, I also have a fondness for science fiction. Some people are squarely in a particular camp, meaning that they prefer to watch "Star Trek" or that they prefer the lightsaber-wielding jedi of George Lucas' "Star Wars" saga, or even, god forbid, they like "Farscape". I haven't been one to so narrowly squeeze myself into one category of fan over another, as I have realized that there is some amount of tension between fans of any given particular science fiction program. I hadn't really had a name for what a person like me is ( except for maybe uberdork), until I listened one morning to a radio show where another multiple program watcher called himself "sci-bi". Being sci-bi meant that he was not going to be labeled. He was not going to be cornered into claiming allegiance to Roddenberry or to Lucas. He was free to appreciate both or either if he so choosed. Which brings me back to the point of all of this. I had this class on moral status. We were discussing the question, "what is a person?". The question, it seems, isn't as easily answered as we may have thought. If I was to give the standard response, I would say that a person is a human, short and simple. But, it seems, the philosopher is supposed to say that that speciesist response is no longer viable in light of the data that "proves" that we humans aren't the only intelligent life on the planet. (there's all this stuff about what constitutes "morally relevant" characteristics that determine whether a being is morally considerable. we can suppose that these same criteria can also be used to determine whether a being is a "person"). Since I am a fan of science fiction, and I also know that Gene Roddenberry was a nut about putting philosophy in to his "Star Trek" plotlines, I immedaitely recognized that my favorite incarnation of "Star Trek" (TNG, or the Next Generation for those who aren't in the know) had a plot dealing with that very issue: what is a person? Giddy with pop culture-infused zeal, I email my professor, explaining an episode of a TV show that would perfectly depict the conflict of personhood -- especially when we consider the personhood of non-humans. I volunteered the episode "Measure of a Man". Now, I could get into all sorts of really geekified backstory here, but suffice to say that the episode did fit into the class discussion. But then, that got me thinking... As far as science fiction goes, Roddenberry's characters are more "real", meaning they are future people who reflect who we are now. We are supposed to be philosophically challenged or enlightened by them and their actions. We see the people that we are to become when we look into "Star Trek" and the near-utopic future it presents to us. I guess, in the long run, that's the difference between a philosopher and a storyteller. Being that I am sci-bi, I also appreciate the work of George Lucas' "Star Wars". Truth be told, I know more about these characters than I know about my own family. I can trace the geneology of the Solo twins more readily than I can trace my own heritage. Seriously. Whereas Roddenberry shows us what we might become, Lucas shows us what we want to be. He shows us heroes and villains that find redemption through the love of our sons. Lucas' focus is on the mythology of mankind. The story where the people come first. Which is where I am focused now. I have a sort-of sci-crush on the character "Data" on "Star Trek". Now, my thing is not on Brent Spiner, the actor who plays "Data", but the character himself (itself?). I think that the point lof the android character is so that he's a mirror to our own humanity. Because he's emotionless and always trying to be more human, he reflects our constant struggle to improve ourselves. whatever. Captain Picard advocated on Data's side when Starfleet wanted to dismantle him and use him for research arguing that Data was a mere machine and was not a person. Picard argued, successfully, that Data possessed the same qualities that we humans say defines us as human, namely, we are self aware, we are sentient, and we are conscious of ourselves and our surroundings. And I guess the philosopher in me would agree wholeheartedly that, despite the fact that Data was not human, he was a person who is entitled to all the rights and privileges that all humans are entitled to. So far, so good. But then I was hit by a sudden apprehension -- what about poor C-3PO? If he were the subject of a question of personhood, and if he were in Roddenberry's universe, he would certainly meet Data's personhood test. Anyone familiar with 3PO knows that he doesn't want to die ( he is horrified by being shot in The Empire Strikes Back, and later in the film tells Chewbacca that he doesn't want to die), he is aware of himself, as we see that he constantly bemoans his "lot in life", and he, unlike Data, is emotional. C-3PO can be best described as a "nervous wreck". But yet, in George Lucas' universe, any resemblance to humans will do you absolutely no good if you're a droid. You will be used, abused, dismantled, sold without your consent, given away to Jabba the Hutt without any consideration of how you might feel about the deal, and if you know too much, your memory will be wiped. It doesn't seem to matter to either George Lucas or his characters whether a droid expresses fear or dread at being condemed to the spice mines of Kessel -- they ain't human. And that, to the "Star Wars" universe, seems to make all the difference. So what does this mean? I guess I could say that George Lucas' movies reflect the old-world mentality that told us that animals didn't have souls and that they only made noises when you cut them open because that noise was like the pings and prangs of the springs of a clock when it is taken apart. I could say that we should be more like Captain Picard -- ready to defend our non-human friends when their lives are on the line -- for only the fact that they are people too. Or, I guess the better way to see all of this is to stop looking at it all so seriously, and just enjoy the flashing lights and the soaring music.