The Price of Hemlock

I was watching The View this morning. Rebbie Jackson, Michael Jackson's sister was a guest. She talked about her new album and her work for bi-polar awareness, and of course she talked about her brother Michael. After The View went off, the local news at 11 came on. News of Charlie Sheen's hospital visit. I know that, even before hearing the details about what happened, somewhere in the story, the words "porn star" or "stripper" are sure to play a part in the drama. While I was watching, I wondered, why am I so interested in this man's life? Why do I care about about the Conrad Murray trial? If I think the man had anything to do with Michael Jackson's death, it doesn't matter. And my disgust with Charlie Sheen isn't going to do a damn thing to change his behavior. It's really a sad commentary about priorities. I know who these people are; I know about what drugs they take, who they're fooling around with, and occasionally, via a sex tape, their O-face. Not too lng ago, Time magazine issued its list of the "100 most influential people in the world". Alongside Brazillian president "Lula", Apple co-founder Steve Jobs, and Barack Obama was Taylor Swift, Ashton Kutcher, and Lady Gaga. No doubt that Taylor Swift, Ashton Kutcher, and Lady Gaga are famous. And in their fields they may be influential, but are they truly among the 100 most influential people in the world? When we think influence, are we really talking about popularity or are we saying that these people affect life across the globe in an actual quantitative way? Or, if they are influential, could it be that their influence is heading us in the wrong direction? Socrates was condemned to death for urging people to question the established orthodoxy. The Socratic tradition, the pursuit of truth, is embodied in the ideals of the Enlightenment. The Enlightenment, or Age of Reason, was the 17th and 18th century political, scientific, and philosophical movement wherein Europe emerged from the dark age of ignorance and superstition. Enlightenment thinkers, such as Hume, Kant, Adam Smith, Rousseau, and early feminist writer Mary Wollstonecraft, believed that rationality was the key to progress, and re-evaluated the sciences, education, economics, the laws of nature, ethics, and philosophy to fit their new view of humanity and its relationship to the natural world. The German philosopher Immanuel Kant said that the motto of the age should be "dare to know". When the Enlightenment hit U.S. shores, the concept of natural rights influenced the writing of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. American statesmen such as Thomas Jefferson believed that a properly informed public will make rational decisions. Ok, what am I getting at? It's this: we make decisions based on the quality of the information that we get. This is especially important in the area of politics, since whoever is chosen to lead affects the lives of the nation. But it's difficult to get the right kind of information if my local news choses to cover Charlie Sheen's hernia than cover something important, like explaining exactly why our economy continues to collapse or informing the local voting public as to who their congressional representatives are and how to reach them. The sad thing is, is that this reality, if you will, isn't new. It's been like this for years. And this fact has led me to ask, have we reched the end of the Enlightenment? Sure, we've got the Internet, I'm using it right now, and the Internet can deliver information at the click of a mouse. But, having lots of information readily available does not necessarily mean that I can say that I have knowledge. And it's not just me... I live in a culture full of people for whom an abundance of information does not lead to knowledge. In fact, one could make the argument that our culture values knowledge less than we value trivial information. The stuff that I as hearing on The View and about Charlie Sheen on the news is information. More to the point, it's trivial. It's the type of information that Chris Hedges says is a part of our "junk culture". Junk culture, according to Chris Hedges, puts its emphasis on celebrity. It is shallow and unconcerned about questioning about life's meaning. Academia, Hedges says, is a target of junk culture as junk culture is an assault on academia. I think that Chris Hedges is right. I remember when Al Gore was running for the presidency against George W. Bush, a frequent criticism of Gore was that he carried himself like a smarty pants. Is being smart and knowing it a bad thing? Is showing other people that you're smart something to be held against you when you run for the presidency? I'm more than aware of the fact that there are people who are fans of Sarah Palin because she's not a high-falutin' Ivy leaguer like Barack Obama. Is this good? I'm certain that if we held Jefferson or Madison to the same standards that we hold now they would have never been elected to the presidency. But here's the thing: The Enlightenment might have undid itself. It just may very well be the case that Enlightenment thinking is much like Karl Mark said of capitalism. That is, the Enlightenment might have within it the seeds of its own destruction. Follow this closely: The Enlightenment emphacized reason. Through the use of one's mind, one can discover truth. Philosophy spawned, among other things, the field of psychology. Psychology asked not what we reason, but how we reason. Freud's psychoanalysis detailed certain fundamantal laws of human behavior, including the influence of subconscious drives on human behavior. The field of public relations (one of the founders of public relations was Edward Bernays, a nephew of Sigmund Freud), using psychoanalysis, demonstrated how behavior can be manipulated by appealing to drives such as fear or sex. Public relations is closely associated with advertising, which is essential to a capitalist economy, which leads to a consumer culture, where product is associated with celebrity, which is by nature, shallow and decidedly un-academic. Altthough there is plenty to lament about the end of the Enlightenment, the end in itself may not be a bad thing. Let us not forget that some of the evils of history were also products of the Enightenment, namely the enslavement of Africans and the birth of eugenics. Let me explain how that works: 1) reason + science --> theory of evolution 2) evolution + reason (theory that some groups of people have better use of than others) --> social Darwinism 3) social Darwinism --> eugenics --> genocide, apartheid, ethnic cleansing, etc. Perhaps what is going on is a paradigm shift, a time when the orthodoxy is challenged and ways of thinking is changed drastically. Maybe what is to come is not so much of a dark period than a dim one. We might be heading towards an era where we start to correct unhealthy thinking, to lose elements of our culture that are destructive or counterproductive. The end of the Enlightenment isn't necessarily an end to intellectualism, as Europe's Dark Ages was an age when the works of the ancient philosophers were unknown to all but a small group of people. We might be in the process of shrugging off our relentless fascination with the self and celebrity that has until now passed for deep examination of the self and knowledge. We're getting rid of the cult of the self that emerged when Enlightenment ideals were distorted. And who wouldn't like to turn on the news and not hear the name Snooki?

Tuesdsays With Maury

If there is any bit of television that makes me think that deja vu is real, it's the Maury Povich Show. Every time I tune into the show I swear I'm watching something that I've seen before: some bird has dragged in a number of equallly morally suspect young men (some of whom are related to each other) to have Maury erveal which fine specimen of erudite gentlemen is the sire of her child. By the time they figure out which one is, Maury has DNA tested half the guys in BFE Kentucky. Although I find the whole matter disgusting (I mean really, if there's one thing that a woman should be keeping track of, it's how many guys that she's balled in one week), I can't tear my eyes of the spectacle. And I'm so delighted when some dude is on who insists that he's never even had sex with his cousin's girlfriend ( he's usually the one hurling the most insults about her easy virtue) turns out to be the father. Spectacular! Watching the moment of revelation almost beats the fact that I've spent an entire afternoon not doing anyting even remotely constructive, like working for an actual paycheck. It's not that the entire experience is without shame --at least on my part. All the while I'm watching, I keep asking myself "why are you watching this crap?". When did Maury Povich's bi-weekly "you are NOT the father" show become something that is acceptable to air on broadcast television? I look at the parade of trash talkin', baby makin', semi-illiterates on Maury and I ask, from under which rock did these people crawl?!? Now, I'm not calling these people substandard to be insulting, I'm sure that when they're at home, some of them are really wonderful people. But what gets me mad is the fact that these people aren't just cartoons that entertain and then disappear as soon as the show is over. They're real people, who exist among us. And if that's the case, I think, then we, as a species, are in a bad way. I think while I'm watching, that there is no such thing as dignity anymore. Or modesty, or decorum, or shame. And I say shame on myself for watching the show in the first place. They wouldn't be there airing out all of their dirty laundry if there weren't an audience to watch. In an interview on NPR, Chris Hedges said that our culture has been emptied out and replaced by fantasy. He says that the worse that reality becomes for us, the more we run to distractions; what Hedges calls "pseudoevents" like, gossip, trivia, celebrity breakdowns, and the eroticization of our culture. When I was getting my poly sci degree, I had this professor who would go on rants from time to time about how things like Girls Gone Wild are ruining society by breaking down the barrier between the public and private spheres. He said that when we take our private business into the public arena, we make things that shouldn't be acceptable to do in public (like showing your boobs and other areas) acceptable. Once we've broken down that barrier, he said, there's nothing that is inappropriate. That's degrading to the culture, he concluded. I gotta say that I don't disagree. Everywhere is casual friday. You don't have to look around too hard to see it, either. Cell phone calls that are way too personal and way too loud, prominently displayed undergarments, people wearing pajama pants everywhere, celebrity sex tapes dominate what we see in the media and on the street. I used to think that eventually things would get back to "normal", that is, people wouuld see that they're making fools of themselves in public and start to behave. So far it hasn't happened. I used to think that acting stupidly on television would be an embarassing enough experience that people wouldn't do it. Apparently it's not. Because every week there's a new batch of ladies on Maury gene testing another batch of suspected fathers. They seem happy as clams up there on the stage. The point it seems, is that the important thing is to be on TV. So long as cameras are on them, they don't care why -- it's just to be on TV! They can go back home and watch the show when it airs and be local celebrities for awhile, jsut like all the other floks who make their living being professsionally famous. This seems to be the point of the whole thing. It doesn't matter how you get on the boob tube, so long as you get on. We get so fascinated with ourselves that we don't see what all of our narcissism is doing to us. In the movie Taxi Driver, Travis Bickle called it "morbid self-attention". It's getting so wrapped up in yourself that you fail to see that you're destroying yourself. Because when we look at ourselves we fail to see the world around us. And if you're always looking at yourself, then you're never looking at what's going on in the world. I remember when the whole President impeachment thing was going down, and Monica Lewinsky was making the rounds on the talk shows. Did it matter to anyone that she got famous for putting the president's weenie in her mouth? No, it didn't. Least of all, it didn't seem to matter to her. She never said "gee, I wish I had gotten famous some other way. This was is something that I should really be ashamed of". In our fame-based culture, you used to actually have to do something to get famous -- invent something, be good at something, cure some disease, act, dance, write, or sing (or all if you're a quadruple threat, like Justin Timberlake). There was an idea that notoriety had to be earned. Now it seems all you have to do is get on TV. Unfortunately, this is extremely easy. All you have to do is be freaky enough or better yet, have someone post your freakiness on YouTube, and you're set. You can be famous. So you can give the pres oral, it doesn't matter. Monica Lewinsky was going to be famous, and we were going to see her being famous no matter whether we objected or not. So is every other freak out there. That makes me think of a character in the movie The Ring, who tells a reporter to ind her own business and stop trying to find out what happened to his daughter. She tells him that she's trying to help. his response is one that I think applies to the Mauryization of our culture. He tells the reporter that they "take one person's tragedy and force the world to experience it... spread it like sickness". I think that shows like Maury Povich's have the same effect. I would think that Maury, if you asked him, would come up with some reason why having these people on his show benefits the public. He wouldn't realize that what his show does is spread an infection. It's a culture destroying infection. One that makes the obscene reasonable and feeds us nothing of any use for our minds or souls. Its's all bread and circus. And we all know what that did to the Roman Empire. Chris Hedges says that our culture has devolved into a culture of moral nihilism. Funny, that I think that ultimately Hedges and the founder of nihilism (that being Nietzsche) would conclude that our culture is headed on the path of destruction. Nietzsche says that our society is so screwed up because of the "plebian bias of the modern mind". Nietzsche laments the triumph of the common and the vulgar over the Noble and the Good. For Nietzsche, the ruination of society is in the triumph of the slave over the master. Nietzsche blamed the shift on Christianity, which places compassion among the most desired qualities of man, as the "slave" morality that has weakened the power of the master class over the rabble (that is, over you and me). Christianity elevated the poor, the weak, the meek (you know, all those inferior people who deserve to die), to the status of equals of the rulers. They did this, he says, because they had grown resentful of those who rule. So the slaves had to create a god that would tell the rulers that they must treat the slaves as equals, have compassion for those who cannot do for themselves. For Nietzsche, this is the wrong way to go. Although I don't connect Christian ethics to the cultural degradation of society as Nietzsche did, I think he is right on one point, that is, that our culture has bee overrun by appealing to the lowest common denominator. When people get famous for blowing the president, there is something wrong with us. If we don't have something that is the "better" morality to show us what is morally right, we'll continue to slide down towards the abyss of the Maury P0vich show as a way of life. A little overstated, but it's true. Back in the 60s, John Lennon famously said that the Beatles were "bigger than Jesus". He was blasted for what he said, but in a way he was exactly spot-on. He was repeating what Nietzsche had said about God. For Nietzsche, we had killed God by replacing him with science. For John Lennon, he noted that his fans were more into the music of the Beatles than they were into gong to church on Sunday morning. Lennon was right in suggesting that celebrity often fills the role of god. When we talk about celebrities, we call them "stars". Stars, of course, are in the heavens, where God lives. We look t the TV to see the stars -- to see our cultural gods. This is the victory that Nietzsche was talking about, and what Chris Hedges meant when he says that our culture has been triumphed by spectacle. The victory (in our case) of the pseudo-famous and the fame wannabees over those who really should be looked at (meaning people of fine moral standing). Unfortunately or fortunately, whichever way you want to see it, I'm no Nietzsche. I'm not terribly eager to throw off all this spirit-destroying slave morality and live according to the will of the masters. I've got a feeling the the Ubermensche show wouldn't be all that entertaining. I mean, there would probably be no chance of a fist fight breaking out on stage between a couple of two-timing lesbians.

White Ford Polanski

Ithink that Chris Hedges says this so much better than I ever will so to hear him say it better, go to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ch0fl0m60Oo And now for my pathetic take on something important... You know when someone is supposed to be important. It's when you call them only by their last name.

Nietzsche, Reagan, Christ.

The world of entertainment is no different. We know the greater than famous only by their last names. Which means, conversely, if one is not great we would say the whole name. For instance, if I am watching Die Hard 2, I'm watching a Renny Harlin flick. But cinema belongs to Coppola, Spielberg, Scorsese, Hitchcock, and recently, Tarantino.

You get the idea.

One of the great ones has drawn some attention to himself these days, but not for his filmmaking.

Polanski.

I'm in no way a movie expert but I've been told that Roman Polanski is a pretty heavy-duty movie director. They say that before I die, I'm supposed to watch these movies: Repulsion, Rosemary's Baby, and Chinatown -- all directed by Polanski. Well, I've seen Rosemary's Baby (and unfortunately its sequel, which may have started that horrible Hollywood tradition of following up fairly decent movies with sequels that you wouldn't show to someone you really wanted to hurt). For those who don't watch cinema, Polanski is probably more (well) known for being the husband of Sharon Tate, who was murdered in 1969 by members of the Manson Family. These things made Polanski famous, but recent attention given to the director has focused on something that made him infamous. Namely, the 1977 drugging and rape of a 13 year old girl at the home of fellow famous person Jack Nicholson following a photo shoot.

Polanski admitted that he gave the girl champange and quaaludes (now that says 70s!), and eventually pled guilty to having unlawful sex with a minor.

As a culture, we tend to look somewhat negatively at people who have sex with kids.

Knowing that this is so, and that he stood to find himself on the bad end of the law, Roman Polanski fled sentencing and went to France, a country that does not have a full extradition treaty with the United States -- thus avoiding spending any time behind bars. After 30 years of avoiding his sentence, Polanski was arrested in September of 2009 while on his way to the Zurich Film Festival.

Better late than never.

In a not-so stunning move, the Hollywood community stood up and rallied to Polanski's defense. Some of Polanski's fellow Hollywoodites signed a petition calling for his immediate release. Martin Scorsese, David Lynch, Woody Allen, Debra Winger (who you almost have to ask "who?" when you hear her name), and Whoopi Goldberg (who, thankfully informed us of the difference between rape and rape rape) are among the stars who have called for Polanski's release. Even the governments of France and Polanski's native Poland have called for Polanski to be set free. Many, including the Swiss and the Los Angeles DAs office, haven't been swayed by the pressure from our fine moviemaking community. Some have gone so far as to dismiss the chatter as Hollywood's rallying around one of their own, no matter how awful the crime (funny, I remember a considerable lack of this reflex when OJ was accused of double murder). Although Whoopi Goldberg's remark may have been another example of celebrity-induced boneheadedness, she brings up a point that most assuredly many have pondered since Polanski's arrest -- was what he did really a crime? Not only that, but if it was, has the passage of time lessened the offense?

Did time heal these wounds?

Some of Polanski's supporters (and some people in general) say that attitudes were different in the 70s. I suppose that this sentiment has something to do with the fact that, at the tail end of the sexual revolution, sexual attitudes, even concerning children was more laxed than they are now. So, some say that determining whether an actual crime was committed has to do with whether a child is able to consent to sexual activity.

Psychologists say that children much younger than 18 are morally aware (thus responsible) for their actions. Chlidren as young as 9, according to psychologists, have moral distinct sensibilities.

A 13 year old is, according to Freud, in the genital stage of development -- a stage wherein children begin to initiate romantic and sexual relations with members of the opposite sex (or same sex if that's the way you roll). Traditionally, common law recognized that children as young a 14 could be held legally accountable for their actions. And anecdotally, we've all either seen or heard of the kid who neither looked nor acted like a child. So, in the minds of some, a child of 13 is more than biologically capable of deciding of she wants to have sex with a grown man.

But this assertion doesn't sound right to some people (myself included). It can easily be stated that there is a difference between biological maturity and mental maturity or moral awareness. When we say that someone is "mature", we're including the idea that he is capable of rational decision-making. Rationality is connected (if not required) to the ability to consent to any activity. So if we bring up the idea of rationality as required for engaging in consentual activity, we must ask when is a child rational? When can a child make decisions concerning sexuality.

I've decided to take a look at what Kant says about rationality.

Kant says that moral judgments are products of reason or the rational mind. Rational beings possess rational minds. And having rational minds, humans are rational beings. Rational beings possess a free mind and are capable of deciding according to their free will ( meaning that we are free moral agents). Moral agents must be treated as ends-in-themselves, that is, we are obliged to treat others as rational moral agents and not as a means to our own ends. Although Kant says a great deal about what free moral agents are, he spends little time telling us when a person is a free moral agent -- he doesn't specify at what age a person becomes a moral agent. It is obvious to us that an 18 month old child does not share the same moral capacity as his 28 year old mother. But, if we look at the toddler's 6 year old sister, the distinction between the moral awareness of adults and children aren't so clear. We can see that a child of six possesses some capacity to perform moral judgments. But, according to Kant's view is "some" enough? I think this is Kant's answer: Kant says that when we interact with others, we must treat them as if they are rational beings -- irrespective of whether the individual is in fact a free moral agent.

So, if psychologists say that children as young as 9 can render moral judgments, and Kant suggests that we treat people as if they are rational moral agents, then Whoopi Goldberg may have a point.

Roman Polanski is not guilty of rape rape.

But this still doesn't sit well with me. I still feel like he has done something wrong for which he should be punished. But I realize that, despite my gut feelings, the supporters may be right. But then, I remember one, small, detail. He drugged her.

We know that when it comes to sexual activity and the law, a person who is inebriated or mentally diminished cannot legally consent to sexual activity. This is why if you give a girl a roofie (even if she said that she wanted to have sex with you hours eariler), you could find yourself facing rape charges. The fact that she was unable to consent to sexual intercourse at the time that the activity took place meant that you performed an unconsentual sexual act with a drugged person. You could not only find yourself facing rape charges, but also charges for administering the drug (I think in some states it's considered poisoning). Kant's idea of rationality requires that a person be fully engaged in their decision-making ( which means that in addition to being sober, a person cannot be forced or coerced into moral judgments according to Kant). If a person is under the influence of drugs, Kant would say that the person is not fully capable of using their ability to reason. By drugging the girl, she became a mere means to Polanski's ends. So, in this circumstance, she could have looked Roman Polanski in the eye and demanded that he make her a woman, but the fact that he filled her full of booze and ludes made her unable to participate in the act as a free moral agent.

So Whoopi is wrong. He is guilty of rape rape.

But still there are others who would hold that Polanski's arrest is unjust. Debra Winger stated that Polanski is being punished by a "philistine" legal system. The French Culture Minister said that Polanski has been "thrown to the lions". They feel that he is being treated like a dangerous criminal when he is not. They argue that he is a good man and a humanitarian who has not hurt anyone. Treating a good man like a hardened criminal they say, is a makes a mockery of the concept of justice.

Of course this claim forces us to look a little at what justice (exactly) means.

We ask, what is justice? Some suggest that justice is each getting what he deserves. Others say that justice is equal treatment under the law. Others say that it is acting according to one's virtues, or that justice is whatever the ruler says that it is. Kant's theory of retributive justice holds that those who harm others ought to be harmed in return. In short, you get what's commin' to ya. But, Kant states, the punishment must be proportional. If an offender commits a minor offense, the punishment must be minor as well. If he commits a major offense, then we must punish him accordingly. In this way, Kant's justice is much like justice under Roman Law which held that "the constant and perpetual will to render to each what is his due". In our system of justice, prison sentences are either long or short, depending on the severity of the crime.

So, using Kant's theory of justice, we can say that Polanski knowingly and willingly gave drugs and alcohol to a child and then had (forced) sex with her ( did I mention that she says that she initially put up a fight and that she said "no" repeatedly?). Kant says that, as autonomous moral agents, we are to repect Polanski's actions. If we fail to do so, we are not giving him the proper respect that is required for him to act as a free moral agent. Since he acted freely, we are bound to respect his actions. And since he acted in a manner that was (and is) against the law, we must give him the proper punishment for his crime. Failure to do so is not only harmful to Polanski, but also harmful to us as well.

(Here's the thing... his pals in Hollywood think that they're doing a good thing by saving their colleague from a corrupt justice system. But in reality what they're doing is preventing Roman Polanski from being responsible for his own actions. This is what over-protective parents do when thay want to save their children from every harm in the world. Ultimately, all these good intentions serve to do more harm than good, as the act to protect is less protective than it's paternalistic, thus robbing an individual the ability to make their own moral choices).

So, using Kant yet again, we must see to it that Polanski serves his time.

But, for every Kantian there is an equal and opposite Utilitarian waiting in the wings, ready to say his peace. A utilitarian may say that punishing Roman Polanski now is of little use. So much time has passed and he hasn't done anything like that crime since. Polanski is not a threat to anyone and that sending him to prison would be a waste of time and money, and it only goes to dredge up old memories that even the "victim" has suggested that we let go. To punish him now would be a negative (as it detracts from the common good, and it wastes resources that could have been spent bringing real criminals to justice, and by incarcerating Polanski we're locking up a productive, upstanding, creative member of society). On the first notion, that too much time has passed, and that to do anything now would be useless, Entertainment Weekly contributor Chris Nashawaty put it like this: Roman Polanski may be a great director but he's still a convicted felon. The fact that 30 years has passed has not made the crime any less morally repugnant. If we wanted to argue that time lessens offenses, we can use the same argument to release Manson family member Leslie van Houten, and likewise argue that it was morally wrong to keep a dying Susan Atkins in prison (there are those who would argue that the passage of time has not made the Manson murders any less morally repugnant --even if Atkins was dying). The utilitarian not only has to consider those who are directly affected by the crime, but everyone who stands to be affected (which in te case of the justice system means everyone). If Polanski is released without serving his sentence, the utilitarian must consider the negative effects of that decision as well, including the possibilty that the integrity and reputation of the justice system might be damaged if people percieve that the legal system is unjustly weighing in favor of Polanski. We see justice is a matter not only of conviction but also of serving the sentence. By fleeing before serving his sentence and possibly getting away with not serving one at all the public may lose confidence in the system's ability to administer justice equally under the law ( as there is already the popular perception that there is a different system of justice for celebrities). Letting Polanski go may seem like the utilitarian thing to do, but may in fact do more harm than good.

And it's this point of two systems of justice that I would like to end.

Rawls held that we could bring fairness into society if we pursued justice from under a veil of ignorance. Rawls believed that if we made laws that benefitted everyone and reduced inequality that we could maintain a just society.

There are those who believe that this idea is complete bullshit.

When we watch TV and complain that OJ "got away" with double murder, or that Leif Garrett paralyzed his friend in a car accident and served not one day behind bars, or that Robert Downey, jr., pulled off a B&E and we were supposed to feel sorry for him, we often say that it seems that there are two systems of justice -- one for the rich and famous and one for everybody else. And seeing Hollywood types like Woody Allen and Steven Spielberg rallying around a convicted child rapist only goes to show that some of our beliefs about a multi-layered justice system are true. We think that the fact that Roman Polanski is a celebrity earns him better treatment than the average barber or computer programmer or some poor undocumented dude who some kid says that he touched her in the park on her way to school. If Roman Polanski were anything other than Roman Polanski, we say, he'd be behind bars before you can say Look What's Happened to Rosemary's Baby? sucked eggs. Perhaps this is why: maybe the real problem is not that there is no morality in Hollywood, but that the famous operate under a different system of justice than everyone else does. Perhaps their view of justice is Aristotelian.

According to Aristotle, some people, because of their character or virtues deserve more. Unlike Rawls, who seeks to minimize inequality, the Aristotelian thinker sees inequality as a mere fact of life. Some people are, by nature, better than average. Inequality is natural. I remember Sharon Tate's sister saying that her former brother-in-law is a philanthropist. And we see that if she is correct, he is not only philanthropically-inclined, but as an artist, he gives his art to the people. By doing his natural talent, he is enhancing the lives of all -- he contributes to Happiness. Aristotle called these types of men magnanimous. And of magnanimous men Aristotle writes, "... since he deserves most... for the better man always deserves more, and the best man most".

And perhaps this is it.

It really isn't a matter whether a child consented to have sex with a man more than twice her age in the home of a mega-star in 1977. It doesn't matter whether she gleefully and rationally entered into sexual relations with Roman Polanski. What matters, we see, is that people like Roman Polanski are just different than people like me and everyone who isn't famous. If he had played his cards right, he should have looked the judge squarely in the face, announced that he was better than everyone in the courtroom, and walked out. I'm sure that it would have worked.

I don't see whay he's hesitating to do it now.

And if anyone believes that I actually think that he shouldn't be behind bars, I need only say that I may be an egoist, but at heart I am a Kantian.

They guy shouldn't know what sunlight feels like for some time.

Much Ado About Molehills

It's been some time since the Kanye West crisis at this year's MTV Video Music Awards. I tried to not think about it, but seeing that I've got that philosopher thing goin' on, I found that my will was not as strong as I had hoped. I know that there are more important things to think about than the hullabaloo over Mr. West's unsolicited comments during Taylor Swift'sspeech, but I felt that I might as well throw my two bits into the hat. So, here is my two bits. First off, I know that I am in no way making up the notion that, if there was any place where a celebrity (or one who thinks that he is) to "act up" it is at an awards show, in particular, one hosted by MTV. The VMAs , I presume, is the place where we would expect to expect the unexpected and even the unacceptable so far as behavior and famousness goes. I recall with great fondness Madonna's steamroller impression during her performance of "Like A Virgin", Prince's peek-a-boo pants, Howard Stern's Fartman appearance, or Marilyn Manson's ghostly white, nearly translucent tuchus on the VMAs singing "The Beautiful People". (that was back when we were actually shocked by people like Marilyn Manson. Oh, how the times have changed!) I don't think that the suits at MTV ever envisioned that their awards show would be the place where decorum would be a popular idea. I don't think that they entertained the idea that their show would surpass the Grammys in distinction or preeminence. The VMAs have always been a place where the famous draw attention to themselves, mostly by behaving badly. The Grammys meant class, the VMAs are the land of the publicity stunt. Somehow there is this big to-do over Kanye West. Maybe it's because his comment hasd the unfortunate trait of having taken place at the end of a string of public outbursts that have become progressively more irritating in the minds of the public. I think that the fed-up-ness began with Janet Jackson's "wardrobe malfunction" during the Big Game's halftime show (Now, for my money's worth, if she had just announced that she intended to show some boob the whole thing would have blown over. It's not the break-in that got Nixon, it was the cover up), and reached a head with Rep. Joe Wilson's shouting "you lie!" during President Obama's speeche to Congress. People are already pretty irritated with loudmouths who shout stupid things in public as it is, and Kanye West did was just another example of a tourette's-esque public display of screwheadedness. In a semi-defense of Wilson, I will say that a liar should be called oue when he is lying. But like we're told by our mommies and daddies, there is a time and a place for doing so. Shouting it during the President's speech is neither the time nor the place. You can wait until you're on Fox News to do that. But that is not what Taylor Swift was doing. I mean, she wasn't addressing the General Assembly at the UN. She was getting an award at the MTV Video Music Awards for cripes sakes! Does anybody remember Courtney Love threw her compact at Madonna and nearly beaned her with it while Madonna was talking to Kurt Loder? (Madonna looked really pretty during that interview, too). Anyway, far be it for me to disagree with Katy Perry, but Ms. Swift is not a "kitten" nor was what Kanye West said akin to stomping on one (by the way, if the Supreme Court rules anytime soon on the matter, it might not be illegal to videotape yourself stomping on one for fun). It was MTV, people. If no one remembers, this is the network that gave us Buzzkill, Jackass, "Puck" from Real World:San Francisco, and Tila Tequila. And really, this latest Kanye-can't-keep-his-trap-shut incident isn't his most egregious public display of moronocity. Here's a taste of what the Napoleon-sized, self-proclaimed savior of music has said in other public places: * in 2004, after losing an AMA to Gretchen Wilson, Kanye West stormed out and informed the media that he was "definitely robbed". * in 2006, after losing an MTV Europe VMA to Justice vs. Simian, Kanye West stormed the stage while the winners were accepting their award and declared that his video was the winner. * in 2005, during a Hurricane Katrina benefit show, Kanye West (famously) declared that President George W. Bush "doesn't care about black people". (Ok, he wasn't entirely wrong on that call -- if anything, it's that he was too specific). * Mr. West has insisted that he be addressed by incorporating his name into the name of Martin Luther King, jr. Yes, we can agree with President Obama that Mr. West is a "jackass", but when you look at what he did, it was really no different from other celebrity outbursts, like the recent Christian Bale rant. There's something (for better or worse) that expects such behavior from celebrities and other famous people. Our media has an entire sub-industry that is devoted to stars behaving badly -- TMZ, celeb mug shots on the Smoking Gun, Star, People, The National Enquirer (and an infinity of other tabloids), Extra!, Entertainment Tonight, Access Hollywood -- all of them run like flies to turds to show the latest video of some notable mouthing off. They keep acting up and we keep watching. Now, I could say here that for some the whole ordeal isn't about the fact that Kanye West interrupted someone's acceptance speech. Some may say that his jackass stunt actually livened up the show. I think that, for some, it wasn't a matter that he spoke, it was who he interrupted that is the problem. Think about it his way: if Kanye West had charged the stage while Violent J from the ICP was on the podium accepting an award for video of the year, I think that no one would have cared much. I definitely think that Terry Moran wouldn't have asked the president for his opinion on the matter. If cute, kittenish Taylor Swift is interrupted, the world is throw off of it's axis. If an overweight, outrageously made up shock rock/rapper is cut off not an eye blinks. I realize that a part of the problem (the problem underneath the problem) is that we've got a big, gaping problem of moral inconsistency that we have to deal with. We expect that celebrities will make asses of themselves by flapping their yaps, yet when we do, we act as though the behavior that we expected (and even encourage) is unacceptable. This is what I think: In some ways, Kanye West and Rep. Wilson are alike. Politicians and celebrities are public people (although I think that George Clooney might object to my assumption). Yet, oftentimes we hold each to a different standard of behavior. If Rep. Wilson had yelled during the VMAs. his outburst wouldn't have been a problem. This is because we think that it is perfectly acceptable that a non-politician famous person yells out whatever they feel like nearly wherever they feel like saying it. The nature of the fame is different for a politician than it is for a "star" (although it seems that that line is constantly being blurred, as Tom DeLay is appearing on Dancing With the Stars). Thomas Nagel wrote in his essay "Ruthlessness in Public Life" ( an essay about individuals who hold public offices, but I think that it can apply to any public person), office holders (and I say celebrities in general) are "insulated in a puzzling way from what they do: insulated both in their own view and in the view of most observers". This kind of insulation, Nagel says, is "strongly attractive". Holding a public office Nagel says, confers a certain amount of power. Likewise, we often tend to assume that being famous gives an individual, among several things, money and power. That power affords a person to insulate themselves, not just physically from the public, but morally as well. They are apart from normal society, housed in a self-re-enforcing environment where they need not trouble themselves with the usual call for mannerly and orderly behavior that those outside that environment have to abide by. Entertainment Weekly contributor Mark Harris says that former SNL regular and star (and creator) of 30 Rock, Tina Fey, calls this environment "the Bubble". The Bubble, Harris says, quoting Fey, is "that magical zone in which, because you have everything you want, you start believing that you earned it, then that you deserve it, then that you deserve even more". On the outside, we see it. We lament that famous people "get away" with things that ordinary people don't, not just acting loke an ass in public. (For example, I remember some of the reactions to Robert Downey's "goldiocks" incident -- he committed a B&E-- and how some felt that he had been handled too preciously by the court). Celebrity drunk drivers, hit and runners, even those who have killed people (and I'm not just talking about OJ, either) get away with crimes when others (i.e. not famous) do not. Jay-Z stabbed some dude in a club. Is he in prison right now? With celebrity, we say comes fame, and with fame comes money, and with money comes power. With power, we conclude, is the ability to not be treated like everyone else. Harris says that the Bubble has an "arrogant sense of predestination".Nagel writes that the exercise of power "is one of the most personal forms of self-expression". Given the two views together, it is not difficult to understand why a celebrity such as Kanye West felt that he could interrupt Taylor Swift's speech. As a celebrity, he may have felt entitled to his fame, and that as a famous person (with some amount of power) he cannot hold back from expressing himself whenever he feels that he needs to. His "art" depends on his self-expression. As an artist, he cannot, therefore, hold back when he gets the urge to speak. And, given an intimidating entourage and a flock of adoring starfuckers, a celebrity is free to run his mouth anywhere, anytime he wants to his heart's content. Of course, the response would be that not everyone enjoys hearing what these "artists" have to say. It's obvous, by the response to Kanye West's comments both in the star community and without, that what he did was morally objectionable to some. To this I say that that is true. But that just goest to show what the problem is -- our own moral inconsistency when it comes to celebrities. We alternately say that we expect famous people to rant in public, yet we condem them when they do. I ask, why do we do this? Nagel writes, "this would not be so unless there were something to the special status ... in a role. If roles encourage illegitimate release from moral restraints it is because their moral effect has been destorted". We are offended, yet everybody wants to be a star. We live vicariously through the lives of the beautiful people. We encourage them to be morally incorrect because we have placed the role of celebrity in a place where it is immune from moral scrutiny. If celebrities acted the same as us, there would be no reason to look at the stars and admire their beauty and differentness (from us). We are transmitting the inconsistency to them, as we praise them for what they do wrong (or at the very least we excuse the wrong). We say that a part of being a celebrity is getting to act in a manner that normal people cannot. We alternately (and arbitrarily) reward and ostracize stars for their behavior. In turn, I believe, this leads to even more bad celebrity behavior -- as the stars do not know what kind of behavior will be praised or condemed. Until we figure out what way we want to deal with celebrities, and then consistently do so, behavior like Kanye West's will continue. If anything, it's Kanye West who is acting consistently. He's a consistent jackass, but consistent nonetheless.

Who Else Would Be Following You On Twitter?

Strange thing about technology. Before you know it, everyone is doing it and you're woefully behind the ball. A few years ago, it might have even been last year -- I can't remember a damn thing -- the supposed burning question that I was sopposed to be asking myself when I woke up every morning was for what good reason I was not on YouTube? Now, I'm, if what everybody else is telling me is correct, supposed to be asking myself why don't I tweet? That is, why am I not on Twitter? I could have sworn that as late as three weeks ago, neither I or anyone else that I knew knew what a "Twitter" was. But now it's like Twitter is everywhere. I had, until I got technologically caught up, operated under the impression that one twittered when one giggled and trembled uncontrollably. But, my life it seems is incomplete if I am not giving the world updates about myself and exactly what I am doing and thinking in 140 characters of less. Well, I don't ... tweet. For awhile, or at least that's what they will let you believe, I thought that I was the only person who doesn't... tweet. Stephen King doesn't tweet. Neither does Kid Rock. Trent Reznor did but quit. By the way, Kid Rock said this about tweeting, " I don't have anything to say, and what I have to say isn't relevant". I thought that was pretty thoughtful. But then, he backed up his comment with "Twitter this dick, motherfucker". You decide. Like with YouTube, Facebook, and that internet dark alley, MySpace, there are stories aplenty about people ruining or semi-screwing up their lives with things that they posted online. It seems like these social gathering places have become modern-day slambooks (if that reference doesn't date me, I don't know what will). It seems like every one of these 'I got fired because my boss saw my Cancun pictures on my MySpace' became instantly overnight like Harriet in Harriet the Spy, when she lost her book of trash talk and everyone she knew got to see what and how she really thought about them. But it isn't just the people that you know who get to see you slutting it up in Mexico -- the whole world gets to see you. Twitter, launched in 2006 (why am I only hearing about this now?) co-created by Evan Williams, who is responsible for blogger.com, according to Nielsen, has 13 million users (well, I guess minus one). That's a number that's somewhere between alot and not alot. If you look at the fact that there are roughly 6 billion people on this island earth, 13 million is barely the number of people who simultaneously farted just now. But, if you think about things from the point of view of trends, 13 million is a pretty sizable number. You only have to sell a million records to go platnium. It's not that I'm down on the social networks. I slum the internet from time to time and I blog. But I'm not on Facebook, nor do I have a MySpace account. At my age, having either seems a little ... odd. Although I am well aware that the fastest growing segment of new Facebook users are women over 50. When I tell people that I don't do Facebook or MySpace, they find this fact rather incredulous. I am told that there is a world of friends and followers that I am not updating or communicating with, and that this fact is supposed to make me feel bad. It doesn't. Strange, with all the hubub about Ashton Kutcher, who, according to Entertainment Weekly's Mark Harris, is "someone who is, if nothing else, expert at staying famous" making it his life's mission to get more Twitter followers than CNN, it seems that the ordeal about Twitter is only about how popular you are or can become. And for folks like me, who won't even use their real name on their blogs, that strikes us as a little arrogant and a tad creepy. There's something more than unimpressive about Ashton Kutcher accumulating a million "followers". What we should be asking it how many people have to participate in something so incredibly inane before we can call it a bonafide mental illness? The bonus, they say, about Twitter is that my "tweets", unlike other forms of communication, like actually talking to people, takes place right now. Like the bank employee who tweeted when the bank where she worked was robbed, or when that plane crashed into the Hudson, they say that the news hit Twitter before it made the TV news. Plus, they say, on Twitter you get what really matters: sage advice from Dr. Drew, music listening tips from John Mayer, health tips from Ellen DeGeneres, celebrities musing about... whatever, or declaring that they're ditching Twitter because there are too many crappy-looking, fat chicks (who fantasize about banging rock stars) following them. We know tweets are full of self-importance (see previous comment), but the bigger question we naturally are inclined to ask is is there really important being said on Twitter? Afterall, how much can a person say in 140 characters (assuming, of course, that the point is to say anything important at all)? Maybe Kid Rock's observation about himself isn't limited to himself, but also spot-on about every other Tweeter out there. All of this, of course, begs for someone to examine it with the philosophic eye. (even if it doesn't, philosophers are in the business of relating anything, whether it is "philosophic" or not, to some philosophic theory). It doesn't take too much deep thinking to come up with a few philosophy-like questions. Since Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, etc, are collectively known as "social networks" our philosophic sense leads us to ask about the "social" gathering places that these sites claim that they are. We all know, whether we like it or not, that humans are social animals. We want to find and look for people who are like ourselves. This is how these networks are marketed -- you may not know anyone who is like you where you live, but rest assured that there is some dude in Sweden who likes fresh blueberry pancakes, hard-core Japanese Animation porn, Chuck Norris flicks and Grizzlybear just like you do. Anyone can find their brethren in cyberspace. No longer are we the lonely beegirls looking for our hive like that adorable bee kid in that Blind Melon video. All I have to do is post a profile, and people will want to be my friend. That sounds good. But is it? Is it really better for us? There's a saying that you can spend so much time looking elsewhere for what you want that you miss it right where you are. There's a fear that we might be sacrificing potential local relationships with people relatively near to us for "relationships" with people who aren't anywhere near us (or who might never be -- and that's not always a bad thing). We might be giving up actual connectivity for what seems like real relationships, which in turn, leaves us actually disconnected from other people (it seems that plenty of people have experienced this one: you're having an actual physical conversation with someone. they tell you to send them an email. but, you're right in front of them! it's not that they're pressed for time, it's just that they're so used to not speaking to people face to face that they can't actually speak to people when they're in the same room with them). The question is, who are we connecting to? The idea of the internet and sites like Twitter is that there we are free to be who we really are. The lure, for some, is authenticity. We're not bound by social conventions or even by distance -- I can discuss how cool Forced Vengeance is with a pal in Sweden as readily as he can discuss the merits of the new S&M comics stuff put out by the dude that co-created Superman with his buddy in Clairmont. We may never admit to our predilections among our philosopher friends, but on the internet, we are free to discuss whatever we choose -- to be who we are. But are we? Of course, this issue relates back to the question "who am I?" And, asking "who am I?" relates to our own questions about the meaning of life and existence. There is a tremendous amout of pressure to be online. Local news stations tell us to follow up their news broadcasts by looking up the stories online. We are told that we can get the best deals on restaurants, cars, stereos, plane tickets or whatever we might want by looking up bargains on the internet. We're told that the printed book is dead and that what we need is kindle. It goes on and on. For those who aren't hooked up to the world wide web, we might begin to think that we're being left behind. By not joining the bandwagon, we become relics, as useless and outdated as a dog-eared copy of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (do you know how many people haven't read this book?!? It's amazing!). It's almost like, if I'm not online somehow, I don't count. I might find myself thinking that I'm like a tree in the forest. If I'm not on MySpace, do I exist? If I'm not telling the world exactly how I feel at every minute of the day, what other purpose is there to serve? I might think that being online -- Tweeting, being on MySpace or Facebook, somehow varifies who I am, not just that I "exist". But the problem is, is that I may be so caught up in the zeitgeist that I forget that posting my whatnot online isn't just a matter of what I reveal online but about what I reveal online reveals about me. I think this is why people often post things that they shouldn't. They gey so swept up in the idea that they lose who they are. We become profiles. We become 140 characters. That enevitably leads to a kind of detachment and (to use a term) alienation from others and I think also from ourselves. I heard somewhere that 60% of Twitter's users drop out after a month. Maybe they find that relating to people who aren't really there isn't really relating to people. The problem isn't so much a matter of corpulent followers, as it is a matter that the experience isn't very satisfying for alot of people. It doesn't replace actual human to human interaction. It leaves us wanting. Maybe Kid Rock had it right. He said that Twitter is gay. His words, not mine, folks.

Thank you, Mr. Jackson

This morning when I woke up, I heard on the news that Farrah Fawcett had died. I have to say that it really didn't affect me, because I'm a) female, and b) I was too young when Charlie's Angels was on to remember anything about her being on the show. I think that My earliest memories of the show was when they added Shelly Hack. But this is all besides the point. My first thought, when I heard that she died, wasn't "how sad" or even " I wonder if she died with her family around?". It was, in typical ghoul fashion, "who's next?". They say that celebrities die in threes -- the old guy you thought was already dead, the obscure one and then the one from left field -- that is, the person you'd least expect to die suddenly. I quicly went over the lists of celebrities in my head -- Is Debbie Reynolds still around? When's the last time Lindsay Lohan made the headlines? Wow, I haven't seen Danny Devito in a movie lately, is Richard Branson still planning to try to go to space? That's dangerous, right?... Then I thought about the celebrities that I'd appreciate it if they died, and then the ones that I'd really feel bad if they did, like Stephen Colbert or Jon Stewart (why do we always say their names together, as if they're a matched set or something) or George Romero. But then, my sister called me to say that Michael Jackson was in the hospital. I got kind of worried. I guess for my generation, Michael Jackson was about as big as you can get. If God was to go into music, he'd be Michael Jackson. I wouldn't say that I had the Jackson bug bad back in '83, but I was by no means immune. I definitely sported a "Beat It" t-shirt back in the day. I stayed up late to watch the premiere of "Thriller" on NBC's late night video show (the name of the show escapes me suddenly). I have a copy of Moonwalker. So, although I'm reluctant to admit it, I am a fan. My thought, when my sister called me wasn't he'd make the three -- it was, "My god, I hope he's ok". It seems that there are people that you don't want to die. It's weird, that when my sister called me again to say that he had, I didn't believe it. I kind of still don't. How can Michael Jackson be dead? I can imagine the deaths of just about anyone else -- my parents, some of my philosophy professors, that dude from my favoritte band, Kurt Vonnegut, even myself (and as an existentialist, I am quite prepared for that), but not him. There are some people that seem to exist in some other realm, somewhere where other people like me and everyone else don't. Some sort of land of immortals. Like once you reach a level of popularity you become transcendent. I don't know. It's really hitting me more weird than I expected it to. I feel kind of bad for eagerly awaiting the next celebrity death this morning. I just feel kind of bad altogether. I'm not going to say anything more than to thank Mr. Jackson for putting out some of the most infectious music that has ever been given to the human race (and I mean that in a good way). I've never seen kids get up and dance to any other music as quickly as I've seen kids spring to their feet the instant someone puts on "Billie Jean".

On A Tangentally Philosophic Topic

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A Word

Before I lay into my topic, I want to say that I've been cruising the blogisphere lately, and I've seen something that others possess that my blog severely lacks, namely pictures. As I have chosen to write about the influence that popular culture has on philosophy, and by extension, on our collective psyches, I realize that a tremendously important element of our popular culture is the visual image -- the photograph, the motion picture, the television, YouTube, etc. I realize that my omission is well... disabling in that a blog about pop culture should reflect just that -- popular culture. I should have pictures of Gerard Butler or Megan Fox plastered all over my blog. But I do not. It's the philosopher in me that insists that I need not display flashing lights nor need I show big boobs to garner an audience. Which just serves to prove why Katy Perry is more popular than Alvin Plantinga.

Hell Is Reality Television People

I was thumbing through my copy of Chuck Klosterman's Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs a few days ago. To start off, I envy people, any person who can write and make a living off of it. Second, I wanted to re-read the chapter on Mr. Klosterman's friend's encounter with a serial killer. I have no idea why. There's, in this chapter, a bit about serial killers John Wayne Gacy and Jeffrey Dahmer. Mr, Klosterman ( I feel like, since I don't know him, I shouldn't call him "Chuck"), wrote about the fame that serial killers achieve as compared to real celebrities. In his book, he used Cameron Diaz. That started me thinking. For awhile, you had to do something like kill a whole bunch of people or blow the president in order to get noticed by the media. But now, it seems like this has totally changed. I noticed that there are a lot of people out there who, I cannot for the life of me, tell anyone why they are famous. I don't think that they killed anyone, since they're not in prison. And I don't think that many of them interned at the White House during the Clinton Administration. But they're there. I know who these people are and why they're important to my life. What really struck me about reading Mr. Klosterman's book, is that, although it was written in 2003 (yeah, eons ago), something he wrote hit me philosophically. It was that he said that he disagreed with the "accuracy of those comparisons" between the fame of celebrities and the fame of serial killers. Mr. Klosterman wrote, " there was nothing inherently special about Cameron Diaz; until she made a movie. She was just an attractive person. At some point, she became Cameron Diaz. But Jeffrey Dahmer didn't become Jeffrey Dahmer the first time he killed somebody. That's always who he was" ( pg. 192. emphasis in original).The fame of the serial killer, he said, is more authentic. Authentic. Now that's a philosophical word. In a way, Mr. Klosterman is correct. A serial killer just does what he is inclined to do. To quote (the fictitious) Mickey Knox, a serial murderer is a "natural born killer". A famous person is mostly known for playing someone else. It would be a little odd to assume that, because David Caruso plays the ultra smooth Horatio Caine on CSI:Miami, that that is the way he truly is. Although he pretty much played the same guy in that movie Jade... Ok. Maybe he was a bad example. The point is, is that celebrities spend their careers playing people who do not exist. They are professional inauthentic players. That is, until the human race was beset upon by the authentic celebrity -- the reality TV show personality. I was listening to the Billy Bush show a while ago. If you don't know, Billy Bush is this dude from Access Hollywood, a show specializing in teling us that, in order to have meaningful lives, the American public must know intimate details about the lives of its famous people. I hate myself for knowing that 1) there is such a thing as a Billy Bush, and 2) I've seen Access Hollywood. Anyway, Billy was interviewing Kim Kardashian. I was torn for a moment. My crap-o-meter had told me to immediately change the channel. But, something was compelling me to listen. I struggled against myself to change the station. *Note* for those who live under rocks and have no idea who this woman is, is recommend Googling her. Have fun, and bring a box of Kleenex.* Now, we, as a culture, tend to dismiss celebrities like Kim Kardashian and her ilk. These are people that we say have no good resaon to be famous (as if there actuall is a good reason), and therefore, are underving of our attention. In particular, we feel that people like Ms. Kardashian and Paris Hilton are of an even less deserving class of famous people. To most of us, they're cartoons. They appear to be caricature of what a person, even of what a real celebrity is supposed to be. we often use the words "fake" or "plastic" when we describe them. They are people who seem to have no real to them at all. They are inauthentic. But before we go label crazy, it's important to explain what we mean. I've already trotted out the word "authentic" and attached philosophic significance to it. So what do I mean when I say "authentic"? Authenticity, according to the Existentialists, is ( as uncomplicted as possible) living one's life unaccording to the expectations of others. That is, an individual lives life, not according to some supposedly pre-determined set of innate characteristics, but according to the terms that he sets out for himself. According to the Existentialist, we are the masters of our own being. We are our own creations. We are not born naturally shy or hot-tempered, or even naturally inclined to act masculine or feminine. The personalities we assume are assumed by ourselves. For the Existentialist, existence preceedes essence. We exist before we become who we are. Now, I recall that I had mentioned reality TV. Television is, according to some experts, a postmodern medium. There's no need to get into postmodernism other than to say that postmodernism rejects the existentialist's notion of authenticity. For the postmodernist, there is no such thing as "the real". We are, at best, a mix of influences that we assume into what we call our identity. And TV seems to reflect that point of view. Just think of the gritty NYPD: Blue like cop show that is also a murder mystery in the tradition of Murder She Wrote, with a twist of My Three Sons, as a single police detective, who also writes mystery novels tries to raise his three sons, including the adorably precocious 7 year-old Billy, as a single father in the rough streets of Claremont, California. But, somewhere in the postmodern mix, someone decided that it was time for people to stop being polite and start being real. I know that they say that the first reality show was PBS's An American Family, and that the first reality TV star was the late Lance Loud, who appeared on the show. It seems that between the mid 70s and the early 90s, the need to see people being real wasn't big on America's to-do list. But, I remember the first time I saw The Real World. Debuting in 1992 on MTV, The Real World opened up a big can of feculent TMI for all of America to see. It brought what they said could not be brought to television: REALITY. For awhile, the only reality on TV, if one was looking for it, was only on the local news. Car chases, police shoot-outs, the local riot... all for the audience to enjoy with real people in real time. But, reality TV brought something new. The people were people that you wnated to see. They weren't just some hillbilly whose house just got blown away by a tornado. Reality TV brought people that I could identify with -- they were real. When Dominic from Real World: Venice Beach got drunk and passed out on the beach, I totally identified with what he was going through! When Ruthie from Real World: Hawaii totally got drunk, like, every episode, I was so there! There were no scripts, there were no rules. This was life as it unfolded. The camera just sat there and recorded whatever happened. So when Irene got socked in the face when she left Real World: Seattle, the camera showed us what was really going on. NO holds barred. Of course, we all know as they say, what you see isn't what really happened. Let me say something a little bit about TV. What we see on television is not all that goes on to get the show to our eyes. TV shows are a team effort. They require the services of writers, directors, producers, casting directors, and personalities to make it to air. Even a show that calls itself a reality show required a team of producers to cast it and bring it to air. Some shows these days even let us in on this process (American Idol), or let us participate in which cast members stay of leave ( Dancing With the Stars, American Idol, Big Brother, etc). Any reality show producer will tell us that, in order to condense a week's worth of going's on into an hour of television, alot of editing takes place. And as was revealed during the Real World: Reunion show, what took place didn't always happen in the order of actual occurance. Events are arranged for dramatic effect, not in order of how they really happen. Postmodernist writer Jean Baudrillard writes, "the attempt to increase the feel of reality are themselves simulations. Their authenticity is a special effect". Baudrillard states that "images preceed the real". But this doesn't seem right when we think of TV that is supposed to be "real". The notion that images preceed the real violates the idea that reality TV tells us is behind its being. Reality TV is supposed to reflect reality, how things really are. When we look at a show like The Real World or The Simple Life, we believe that we are seeing what really happened. Which brings us back to the idea of authenticity. What is authentic? I thought about this question for at least a good five minutes before I answered, for some famous people, they really do seem to be the real deal. When I look at Kim Kardashian, she seems to be one of these people. She's famous for having a big ass. Nothing more. And she doesn't seem to be inclined to convince us of anything more than that. But when I see someone like Paris Hilton, I see the postmodernist at work. One week, she's a singer, the next, she's a philanthropist, the nest, she's staring in a really crappy movie (see Repo: the Musical, The Hottie and the Nottie, or House of Wax). You can't put a finger on what Paris Hilton is because she doesn't seem to be anything. I'm not saying this about her as a person, since I do not know her, but as something that is marketed as "real", ther appears to be nothing "real" there. Perhaps then, Kim Kardashian is something like Jeffrey Dahmer. She is what she is, rather, she is what her ass is. Paris Hilton, on the other hand, is a Cameron Diaz. The funny thing is, is that, despite what view, existentialist of postmodern, each ultimately concludes that there is no purpose or meaning behind reality, and I guess this covers the world of reality TV as well. You know, Sartre called reality absurd. Exactly.

I wouldn't Pull That Attitude If "Newsies" Was On My IMBD Filmography

Why do we let "artists" get away with it? Ok, yesterday I was listening to the Christian Bale freak-out (tantrum? melt-down? bitch fit?) tape on the radio. I understand that the D.P. ( they were called cinematographers once upon a time, right?) somehow made himself unuseful, and thus earned an another assripping from Christian Bale. I get it. They say that when an artist is in the "moment" that they get so into what they are doing that the slightest disturbance can throw them out of the moment, and ruin any possibility of making good art. I get it. But, my question is, what makes them so different? I mean, really, who hasn't been interrupted while in a "moment"? Kids knocking on the door while you're trying to get busy? Dog barking while you're trying to get busy? Cell phones, people talking, whatever. The point is, is that we, meaning everybody, not just celebrities, are interrupted all the time -- including when we are in our "moments". I don't recall anyone giving the guy at Starbucks (I refuse to call them by that pretentious title that's supposed to make his job sound like he does anything besides make coffee) permission to verbally shread some dude who interrupts him while he's making my most excellent tall mocha latte. Yet, we expect it of our celebrities. We give them excuses. We say that, because an actor is in the "moment" he must never be interrupted, is reason enough to excuse his or her anger management problem. Ok, try this one out. Let's put someone having a Christian Bale moment in the world where we live: Let's say that there is a teacher. Wait, let's take it out of the realm of kids (because dressing down an eight year old is a problem and morally inexcusable. Unless that kid's name is Dante. In that case, it's not only reasonable but justified). Let's say that there is a college professor. and he's trying to conduct a -- let's say a philosophy of religion class. And there is a student who has a problem keeping quiet. Now, let's also say that during this particular class the professor is experiencing a philosophic flow moment (oops, I meant "moment"). Plantinga is pouring out of him like a *insert simile here*. And, this student, as expected, opens its yap. Now, the comment the student said wasn't totally off topic. In fact, it might have been helpful for other students to hear. It might have been like a D.P. rearranging his lights while an actor, some feet away, is doing his scene. But since the "moment" was interrupted, the professor goes postal. He rants and raves for a full five minutes, calling the student everything but a white woman (it's a legitimate saying). Now, of course, some people might give the prof a big props for finally saying something. But others, others who may have been helped by the comment might describe the professor as an ass (if they weren't already). We, I mean, some people might have said that it would have been better if the professor quietly spoke to the student after class, where they might have come to some agreement about raising hands (and waiting to be called on -- not that raising your hand while already talking crap) before speaking. The point being, that in a classroom, it might not be appropriate if a person rips into someone -- even if their "moment" is disturbed. If the student reported the incident, the professor might very well be looking forward to a nice conversation with the higher-ups of that department. Nevertheless, we don't excuse schoolteachers, or cops, or judges, or the Sparkletts guy for going off if their "moment" is disturbed. So why do we tolerate it from "artists"? The explanation usually goes along the lines that somehow, artists are valuable to society. Value, as philosophers understand it, is intrinsically connected with ethics. So, if we bring in value, we automatically (I think) pull in certain ethical considerations that are worth examining: The Utlitarian Excuse: It's said that we excuse outbursts like Christian Bale's because the overall value (this time monetary) overrides any hurt feelings that a hissy-fitting celebrity may cause. Millions of dollars ride on the quality of an actor's performance. If a movie sucks because an actor's performance wasn't his "all" (because the damn D.P. wouldn't stop getting in the actor's eyeline), then a studio stands to lose millions of dollars, which is bad. But, if we want to stretch that reasoning to the "real" world ( did you know that Kurt Loder {of MTV} had the nerve to call non-celebrities "civillians"?. really, he did. that's some balls, eh?), we could say that potentially billions of dollars rides on the smooth goings-on in a classroom. If, for instance, a classroom is continually interrupted by a chatterbox student, the overall quality of the education of the other students may be diminished. If these students aren't properly educated, they cannot get the good green jobs that President Obama wants them to get. And, if they can't get good green jobs, then they won't earn as much, and if they don't earn as much, then they can't buy as much... and so on. Billions of dollars down the toilet because some brat can't clamp his trap. But here's the catch. Anyone can excuse damn-near anything if you start calculating potential dollars. In fact, since they said that this wasn't the first time that the D.P. broke Christian Bale's concentration, it would have made better sense (utilitarianly speaking, of course) to kill him. That way, the interruptions are permanently stopped. Intuitionism, maybe: Sure, utilitarianism offers us plenty of excuses for allowing artists whose "moment" has been interrupted to go ballistic, but that seems intuitively wrong. It just doesn't settle well with some people that the star of a film can strip a man of his manhood in front of God and everybody just because he saw a shadow of a dude in khaki shorts hanging up Christmas lights in the corner of his eye. We feel in our guts that there is some sort of double standard at work. I realize that I am making an appeal to intuitionism, which may or may not be a good way to go. I feel that intuitionism as an ethical theory is too amorphous to deal with than to say that intuitionist ethics is like opening up another can of worms entirely ( in fact, I tend to see opening up that can, that instead of opening up a can of kick ass, opening up a can of intuitionism is like peeling back the lid on a fresh can of suck ass). The Totally Wrong Kantian Approach: So, the utlitarian tells us to kill anyone who endangers our art, and that might be a bit extreme. So, we look to Kant. Well, Kant does say something about not letting our talents rust. Actors have plenty of talent. So, this D.P. who can't keep his ass out of an artist's field of vision is making things rough for Mr. Bale to do his art. Each moment he's not in the "moment" is another moment wasted -- another moment of needless rusting. If movie sets all across America and Canada (because it's cheaper to film up there) experienced this kind of interruption, cinematic art as we know it may end forever. That is bad. But wait, Kant says that not letting out talents rust is a duty that we have to ourselves, not one we have to other people. So, if Christian Bale is so disturbed by the interruption that he cannot act, the offense is against himself, not the D.P. against him. And if we wanted to pull in a discussion of ends/means here, we can say that Christan Bale cannot accuse the D.P. of any other Kantian foul. The intent of the D.P. was to light the set properly enough so that Christian Bale looked good. His intention was not to destroy the art taking place on the set of Terminator: Salvation. But, now that I've mentioned using someone as a mere means, I think that I've figured out where the moral wrong actually is: I say that, in fact, the real offence was and is against the film-going public. Although the movie industry has given us some great art, like Spacechimps and the Sopornos, I say that it is us who are being used as a mere means to the movie industry's ends. First, I don't know about what other people consider normal, but going off on someone for ten minutes for getting in your field of vision is a bit excessive. I'm no Dr. Phil, but I seriously think that Christian Bale might be what we call now, a rage-o-holic. I think that he wasn't just mad at the D.P., if you know what I mean, and for that, it is he who used the D.P. as a mere means punching bag. But, as the question pertains to us -- Kant says that we enter into agreements with individuals to our mutual benefit. I will agree to pay a price to a shopkeeper because we both benefit from the fair and open exchange of money for goods. The point being is that neither is attempting to take advantage of the other in the exchange. But, I think that getting an advantage is exactly what is happening here. Christian Bale took advantage of the fact that, as the star of the film, he is able to tnatrum without consequence. Others on the set may be punished for what they do, but he is not. (I can't imagine the camera operator raging at Christian Bale after blowing a take for making him waste film). Likewise, whenever a celebrity "gets over" or gets away with doing something that we sould not, blatant and open drug use, skankism, murder -- they not only exhibit an open standard for themselves to which they feel that they must be regarded, but they also use us as a mere means to their fame. They get what they want, meanwhile we are deprived of quality entertainment and potential role model or two. In the relationship between artist and consumer, or us, we are not getting a fair exchange of money for goods ( I'd say that the last time I felt that I got my money's worth was Grandma's Boy, but that's just me). Although I rant, I realize that this puny post isn't going to change any minds about the subject. Those in the know will say that a civilian like myself will never understand the pressures of being an artist, who while in his moment, was so horribly and permanently disrupted and disturbed by some SOB who only cared about getting the set lit, and didn't care or appreciate the fact that he was denying an artist his ability, no, his RIGHT to make good art. No, I will never understand. But I'll say right here, if any artist wants to pull that crap with me, Ockham ain't the only dude in town with a razor. And that, my friends, is completely utlitarianly justified.