Smoke if you got 'em: An argument for the acceptance of the use of marijuana for recreational and medicinal puropses

Lots of talk about smokin weed, lately. There's still this idea that some people, here in California have that, any day now, not only the legislature, but the federal government will legalize marijuana and every Californian will be legally able to enjoy the loco weed to his heart's content. But until then, it's perfectly illegal to smoke marijuana. but until then... You know, like Oprah Winfrey, whom I believe does not smoke dope, I can declare that I know things for sure. * I know that I should floss may teeth at least once a day. * I know that time travel is not (currently) possible. Sorry Coast to Coast fans. * I know that eating oleander leaves is not good for me. and I know this one thing absolutely for sure, I know to never, never get involved in a conversation with a person who is really into smoking weed. Conversations with weed smokers are generally about as productive as actually eating a sandwich garnished with oleander leaves. They go nowhere and only end up giving you a stomach ache. I have learned, from many conversations with users of The Cannabis, that you can smoke weed, or eat it, or make paper out of it, or make clothes out of it, or use it for backaches, headaches, relief from the nausea associated with chemotherapy. You can use hemp (also illegal) to make hemp oil, or rope, blah, blah, blah. I've learned that the first president of the United States, George Washington, grew it on Mt. Vernon, and that Matthew Mc Conaughey, Alanis Morrissette, Natalie Portman, Woody Harrelson, Lady Gaga, and just about everyone else in show business smokes it. Marijuana has played a significant role in comedy -- there's not a comic or comedic actor who isn't inspired by weed. I've been told that the Declaration of Independence was written on hemp paper, and that international traveler, Rick Steves, advocates legalizing it. I've learned that, without marijuana, the music of Bob Dylan, The Beatles, and not to mention Reggae would not have ever existed if not for marijuana. Well, maybe so far as reggae goes it would have been good if marijuana wasn't so popular. For the record, I don't smoke weed. Personally I dislike those who do. But I realize that, in the case of human rights, the fact that some thing or someone's personal choices offend me does not mean that that activity should be illegal. There's no real reason why anyone (who is over the age of 18 and preferably employed) shouldn't be able to smoke, wear, or eat marijuana. Furthermore, if I was suffering from a terminal illness (or even one that caused me discomfort) I don't see any reason why I should not be legally allowed to use any substance that offers me relief from pain or suffering. Furthermore, if I've just had a hard day at work and I want to relax in the privacy of my own home, I don't see any reason why I should be legally barred from using a substance that a) works, and b) I can grow in the privacy of my own yard and not cost anyone one dime in health care costs. I know that the arguments against the legalization of marijuana are potent and often well argued. I understand that there are some people who say that their use of marijuana has had negative effects on their lives. I am not dismissing that the use (especially chronic use, no pun intended) of any mind-altering substance, legal or illegal, can be harmful. but, I understand that there are many people who use legal substances, like alcohol and food, to the same or similar effect on their personal lives. From what I have seen, many of the arguments against the legalization of marijuana are moral. And from what i've seen, many of these moral arguments simply are not justified. If this is so, then the continued prohibition of marijuana may be immoral. For starters, American society is based on the concept of liberty, freedom of choice. The freedom of choice suggests that individuals are responsible for their own actions. Freedom of choice is linked to the idea of autonomy -- individuals are rational, moral agents capable of acting according to their own rational interests. Yet, there is a prohibition on individuals acting autonomously in their choice to use a particular substance. This prohibition, on the grounds that certain behavior is harmful or dangerous to the individual, so it cannot be permitted is paternalistic. It denies the individual the capability to do what he believes is best for him, and to deal with the consequence of his own actions. I know that we prohibit drinking and driving because a drunk driver can cause harm or kill others, and such activity should be outlawed because of the potential to harm other people. But, despite the fact that we outlaw drunk driving, being intoxicated is not. An individual is allowed to damage himself with alcohol, so long as he is the legal drinking age. Also, paternalistic laws often don't work. People grow resentful of being told what to do. Backlash against Prohibition during the 1920s gave way to organized crime, which was a greater harm to society as a whole than the consumption of alcohol. There's a funny thing about morality-based laws, morality changes. At one time in this country's history, interracial marriage, homosexuality, and pornography were not only illegal, but were morally unacceptable according to many Americans. We permitted school segregation, child labor, and corporate monopolies, but now these activities are not only illegal but, more importantly, they are considered immoral. Americans, as a whole, are increasingly comfortable with the use of marijuana, not just for medicinal purposes but also for recreational use. Smoking marijuana bears little or no social stigma nor is it associated with a breakdown in one's moral aptitude. Here are some stats for you: * nearly 1/3 of Americans 12 years of age or older have tried marijuana at least once. * over 2 million Americans admit to smoking daily. * nearly 61% oppose prison for non-violent offenders (esp. marijuana) many marijuana users report they use marijuana because it it less harmful than alcohol, which is legal. Here are some more stats: * the US has 5% of the world's population but 25% of the world's prison population (that's nearly 2 million people) * we spend on average $68 billion on corrections/ year * the federal government spends nearly $4 billion annually on marijuana. * 1/3 of the prison population is incarcerated on non-violent drug offenses. * 47.5% of those arrests are for marijuana-related. * approx. 90% of arrests are for simple marijuana possession. And some about California: * marijuana, it is said, is California's greatest cash crop. * annual revenues from marijuana are estimated at $14 billion/ yr. (this is money that the state itself never sees) * an estimated 10% tax on marijuana would yield $1.4 billion for the state. (it won't close the state deficit, but it would help) * 14 states (including California since 1996), allow marijuana use for medicinal use for conditions such as AIDS, cancer, and glaucoma. Now, there are people who argue that it is wrong to allow people to legally smoke marijuana, but I ask, is it not morally harmful to keep people from using something that is beneficial? Our first obligation, according to most ethical theories (egoism being the exception) and the Bible, is to do good for those who are in need. We are directed to help others, not just by God, but by our own common sense. Legalizing marijuana will help other people. It will help, not just those who need to smoke it for medicinal reasons, but if marijuana is legalized and taxed, revenues will benefit the state economically. If marijuana is legalized, less money will go to state prisons, thus freeing up revenue to be used for state projects such as roads, education, and state welfare programs. Still, there are people who argue that their opposition to marijuana use is not moral, but medical. They argue that marijuana is dangerous to one's health. Marijuana, like it or not, is safer than many OTCs on the market. There is no known lethal dose of marijuana, however, thousands of people were killed or harmed by FDA approved drugs such as Vioxx and Fen-Phen. Unlike cigarettes, science still has not drawn a direct correlation between marijuana use and cancer (one can simply bypass any risk of cancers, such as lung cancer, by consuming marijuana in a way other than smoking, like eating it or using it in tea). Marijuana, despite what was depicted in movies like Reefer Madness, does not cause insanity. Many marijuana users smoke as a form of relaxation, or in the case of those suffering from debilitating illnesses, to participate in the world without pain. In the case of a (supposed) link between marijuana use and mental illness (such as depression), in the case of some of these marijuana users, their marijuana use is a symptom, not the problem. In the case of these individuals, it might do us some good to look at the societal and personal conditions that lead these individuals to self-medicate, or "escape" reality through the use of marijuana. How can we continue to keep marijuana illegal when the continued prohibition of marijuana clearly does more harm than good? The philosopher John Stuart Mill argued that we cannot predetermine that some supposed harm is harmful to society before that "harm" is actually played out in society. That means, how do we know that legalizing marijuana will be harmful to society if we haven't seen how society be like with legalized marijuana? If our moral and legal objections rely on speculation instead of actual evidence, we cannot justifiably make claims to the "fact" that marijuana is harmful and should remain illegal. I'm just sayin'.....

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.

Maybe Hitler Should Have Tried A Sequined Glove

While the world waits for Michael Jackson's autopsy toxicology results, all of this still dwelling on this has got me thinking: given all of the praise and eulogies (all that is expected when someone of note dies) I wonder is it possible to think of Michael Jackson without thinking about or bringing up the allegations of molestation? I remember in the days that followed Jackson's death, when I listened to (former MTV VJ) Kennedy's radio show, a caller said that it was too early to start in on all of the talk about what Michael "supposedly" did -- that it was too early for all that negativity. He said that we have all the time in the world to talk about whether or not Michael molested kids, and that we should, at least for a time, try to remember the good things. Engaging in talk of well-rounded profiles can come later. Kennedy's response was that, in order to get a well-rounded picture of the person, we have to discuss both the good and the bad. The fact that Michael Jackson died shouldn't automatically wipe away any of the bad that he may have done. That makes sense. But, (and despite the fact that a logician would most certainly say that this is not possible) they're both right. If we ignore the bad stuff we're doing a disservice. If we dwell on it, we're no better than a pack of circling buzzards. Look, for what it's worth, I don't think that we'll get the definitive word on exactly what Michael Jackson did any time soon. What he did with Corey Feldman or Emmanuel Lewis is up for speculation as long as no one says anything or offers something like video of Michael feeling up some kid. I suppose, like thinking about the identity of Jack the Ripper, we won't really ever know. But in the meanwhile, damn, it's hard not to think that he did. But damn, the guy made some really good music. I'm listening to an one of our finer urban music radio stations right now, and "Never Can Say Goodbye" is on. Damn, it's good. (for the record, "Never Can Say Goodbye" is one of the few songs that I can think of that both the original and the remake are good. I'd also put on this list, "Heard It Through the Grapevine", "Proud Mary", Led Zepplin's "Misty Mountain Hop" and "Dancing Days" -- covered by 4 Non Blondes and STP, respectively, Michael Jackson's "Smooth Criminal" as covered by Alien Ant Farm, and the nine inch nails cover of Joy Division's "Dead Souls" ... wait, actually I liked that remake better than the original). Where was I? Was I anywhere? Anyway, thinking about Michael has got me thinking, of course, about how all of this fits into philosophy. I heard it said that, if there is no God then all is permitted. Meaning, what's the point of being moral if there is no one to punish you for the evil that you do -- assuming that the fear of eternal damnation is what will keep you from doing bad things. I thought of a twiat on that sentiment when it comes to celebrities. If there is no famous person, feel free to say anything that you want about 'em. This came to my mind when I listened to a guest on Coast to Coast "channeling" Michael Jackson! The guy had been dead for less than 72 hours and he was already appearing on a late-night talk show!?! I'm not saying that there is no need to say anything bad, we should if there is something to say. But, it seems that when a famous person dies, it's the ultimate talking behind your back, except there is nothing you can say to dispute whatever anyone says about you. Someone can say that Michael Jackson was a ringleader in an Illuminati child sex/murder ring -- there's absolutely nothing the guy can say. So what's my point? My point is is that people are right when they say that we should look at both the good and the bad about anybody, living or dead. And we shouldn't praise a person for molesting children. But, can we praise a child molester? I mean, Michael Jackson was a stellar artist, that is undeniable. But do the allegations of child abuse outweigh what he did musically? Is it possible to do something so horrendous that no matter what good you do is cancelled out by the bad that you did? (Like how I feel whenever I watch a Woody Allen movie or a Lakers game). Or we capable of doing something that is so brilliant that no matter what we have done (it doesn't make things ok, but) it mitigates what we did so that people will look fondly on us? I'm not talking about forgiving someone for doing harm to other people. What I'm saying is that we think of the bad as truly bad, even unforgivable, but we also bestow praise (for the good things) when we speak about the person as well. When I was thinking about whether we actually do this, a couple of people immediately sprung to my mind: filmmaker Elia Kazan and Founding Father (and 3rd president of the United States) Thomas Jefferson. Elia Kazan, director of cinema classics such as, A Streetcar Named Desire, On the Waterfront and East of Eden, ratted out his fellow Hollywoodians (and suspected Communists) to the government during the HUAC days of good old Senator Joe McCarthy. Careers of Communists, communist sympathizers and suspected Reds were destroyed by suspicions or allegations of being un-American. There are plenty of tales of suicides and all-around bad lives of those who were blacklisted. So when Kazan was awarded (sometime later) the Oscar's lifetime achievement award, there were some in the entertainment industry who were not pleased the a traitor and a ratfink was to be given an honor. They didn't think of Kazan as an esteemed director who deserved the lifetime achievement award, instead they saw a man who was willing to aid in the stiffling of freedom in America. That, according to those who saw Kazan as nothing more than a traitor, was unforgivable. To them, the man could have written the Bible -- it wouldn't have erased what he did. On the other hand, try this out for kicks -- on any 4th of July, around any random crowd of patriotic Americans, declare your unflinching hatred of Thomas Jefferson and all that he stands for. Carry plenty of ice and band-aids 'cause you're gonna need 'em. In Jefferson's Notes On the State of Virginia, Jefferson wrote that Native Americans (then affectionately refered to as "savages"), are "feeble" and that they "have no ardor for his female" and "he has no vivacity, no activity of the mind". On blacks, Jefferson wrote, ( this is where the fun begins) " their existence appears to participate more in sensation than reflection", and "that in memory they are equal to whites; [at least he gives us that -- author's comment] in reason much inferior, as I think one could scarcely be found capable of tracing and comprehending the investigations of Euclid." First, there are plenty of white people who are incapable of tracing the investigations of Euclid! Second, it's pretty hard to read Locke or study the pre-socratics when you're busy doing things like, let's see.... picking cotton and/or being raped by your master!!! But I digress. Let's not forget the fact that Jefferson did own slaves, and due to confirmation by way of DNA evidence, fathered at least one child with an under age slave (since sexual activity between masters and slaves was often non-consentual -- it didn't matter whether it was or not -- either Jefferson was a rapist or a child molester as Sally Hemmings was in her teens when she had her first child. Think about that). But we do not say that Jefferson deserves no praise. He, afterall, is why we are here, living in these United States instead of living as subjects of the British crown (although if we were, we'd have unversal health care, but that's another issue for another writer to handle). Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence, and he increased the nation's size with the Louisianna Purchase. The fact that he owned slaves, or was for lack of a better word, a racist ( not in the way that Glenn Beck says that Barack Obama is a racist, but a real, deep down negroes-are-stupid kind of racist) is overshadowed by the fact that Jefferson was an essential element to the founding of a nation and to the spread of democratic principles both here and abroad. So, for Jefferson, his moral wrongs did not cross pollenate. The wrongs he did did not infect the good he did. Ok, that works for writers of the Declaration of Independence, but Michael Jackson was an entertainer. He may have made us happy, but he didn't make us a nation. Plus, he was accused of committing about the worst crime that a person can be accused of, child molestation. ( I guess the only one that is worse is genocide). Pederasts even rank low among criminals. But I'm listening to Michael Jackson and I feel that doing so, and enjoying it, and praising him for his music isn't wrong. I'm not really hung up on the possibility that he may have touched some kid's privates. I can't, for the life of me, figure out why. Is it that the good that Michael did outweighs the bad that he accused of doing (and most likely did do)? How bad does a bad act have to be before we say that a person's evils cancel out whatever good that the do? Ok, let's think up a thought experiment. Let's say that Michael Jackson did molest children. First point: as far as criminals go, a molester is a hands-on kind of pervert. He can't say that his act was unintentional of that he accidentally put his mouth and hands (and possibly his penis) where it shouldn't go on a person under the age of consent. We'll all agree that this is super-inappropriate. But, we say, Michael brought us joy. He contributed to more charities than any other musical performer, he did "Thriller" for goodness sakes! (fun fact: So-called "shock rocker" Marilyn Manson says that he stole all of his moves from Michael Jackson. He says if you don't believe him, watch the video for "Thriller" and then watch his moves. Exactly the same!) Can we say that Michael's talent and spreading of joy to the world mitigates what he did to a handfull of kids? If we say (as one very mixed up utilitarian might) that the answer is yes, then let's take someone else and see if we still feel the same. How about Hitler? One, philosophers, although they are reluctant to admit to this fact, love Hitler. He's the ultimate go-to guy for any thought experiment. A friend and I thought that it would be a good idea to set up a shrine for good old A since philosophers rely on him so much. In hindsight that would have been a really bad idea. Ok, let's say that Hitler was a really good artist. Really good. (he wasn't but that's besides the point. He was better than I am anyway). But let's pump him up a little. Let's add that he was a totally awsome woodworksman and cabinetmaker. Good old A could build a chifforobe that can withstand a hurricane. And let's say, since he loved animals so much, that he was working on a parvo vaccine. And since his own childhood was so dreadfully unhappy, let's say that he devoted his spare time (when he wasn't plotting the final solution) to advancing what we now call child advocacy. Given such a people-oriented Hitler, is it possible that the fact that he invented World War II be overlooked? Kant says that when we perform an act, our intent determines the rightness or wrongness of the act. So, for example, if I give to poor people, but I do it, not out of my duty to serve the needs of others, but out of my need to serve my own narcissistic desires (pats on the back, being told that I'm such a great humanitarian, civic awards that I'll brag about, guest spot on Oprah), no matter how many homeless people benefit, my act was never morally right. But the intent behind my act to be judged pertains to that act. I know that for Kant, what motivates my actions is GOOD WILL. For Kant, having a good will inclines a person to perform morally right acts. The logic is, is that if my will is good, I will do right things, as my actions are a reflection of my character. Kant would say that if the intent behind my act was ill, no matter the consequence, my act was morally wrong. But if the moral value of an act is tied to intent, if our intent behnd the act is good, then a watercolor cityscape by Hitler, or his creating the first effective parvo vaccine is good -- they stand apart from Hitler himself. Still, if we speculate that Michael Jackson did not intend to do harm to any child, but by having sexual contact with them, wanted to show them how much he loved and cared for them, how are we to judge the rightness or wrongness of an act if the intent was to show genuine love for another person? But somehow this still sounds strange to us. Because our feeling is still that someone like Hitler, even if he did do good, deserves condemnation, and that we'd have a difficulty separating the acts from the man ( or that we won't take his actions in total, as opposed to individually). But, does this mean that we cannot appreciate Michael Jackson's music in light of the molestation allegations? Does the bad extend to taint something that is unrelated to his sexual behavior? Wait, he grabbed his crotch when he sang, right? What was up with that? Do we, as they say, throw the baby out with the bathwater? If we do, does than mean that Jackson's music (and the fact that so many people were positively affected by his music) is morally unpraiseworthy? Would it be morally wrong for me to own a gate-leg table made by Hitler or to own a copy of Blood On the Dancefloor? Are our all of actions all morally connected? If I say that it is ok to own Michael Jackson cds even though he is a child molester, yet say that someone who owns a painting by Hitler is morally wrong for doing so, how do I defend myself against charges of inconsistency? Honestly, I don't know how this works out. All I know is that so long as I don't know, I'll still feel a little odd listening to Off the Wall. So I'll have to do it with headphones on.

Scottish People Scare Me: On A Good Reason Why I Ain't Ever Goin' To Scotland Or, A Problem Of Conflicting Moralities In "The Wicker Man"

Police Sergeant Howie flies off to a remote Scottish isle to investigate the disappearance of a young girl. During his investigation, he finds that the natives of the quiet Scottish hamlet are a bit more than odd -- they're pagans! What follows during the next 90 minutes is public group sex, people spontaneously breaking out into song, nude women crying in grave yards, schoolchildren singing odes to phallic symbols, naked flashdancing, foreskins in jars -- ultimately culminating in Sgt. Howie being roasted alive in a giant rattan action figure (so the crops will grow). Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is The Wicker Man. This gem from 1973, starring Edward Woodward, bears the rare distinction of being the only movie in film history that Rod Stewart tried to get banned -- and not because it's a bad movie. It all has to do with Britt Ekland and some dancing.... Anyway, Sgt. Howie, played by Woodward, is sent to investigate the disappearance of a young girl named Rowan Morrison. When Sgt. Howie arrives, he is met by several locals who, besides being confoundedly stupid, insist that the girl is not a resident of the island. They've never heard of her, they say. But Howie is as nosy as he is persistent, and he continues to search for young Rowan, despite the fact that everyone on the island, including the woman who is Rowan's alleged mother, claims that they do not know the girl. As Howie searches for the missing girl, he finds that the residents of Summerisle are pagans who worship the old gods and reject Christianity (this fact offends Howie, who is a Christian). Howie begins to suspect that the island's May Day ritual may be more than mere re-enactment, but a full-scale human sacrifice made to appease the gods. Howie suspects that Rowan is not missing, but intended to be the isle's offering. After a game of cat and mouse (I really hate that cliche), Howie finds that it is he who is the intended sacrifice, and he is given up to the gods -- burned alive inside the Wicker Man. The Film's protagonist, Sgt. Howie, is a Christian. Howie, as a modern man thrown into the strange world of paganism, is intended to represent the audience. The audience, meanig us, and Howie are products of Christendom. We've been raised with, whether we've accepted Christianity or not, Christian morality. Our collective Christian sensibilities tell us that paganism, in particular, pagan practices that call for blood sacrifices, is not only a useless practice, but morally reprehensive as well. We, as well as Sgt. Howie would regard the practices on Summerisle as heathen and blasphemous according to our Christian perspective. Our God, the Christian God, as Howie proclaims, is the "true God". Howie calls the religion of Summerisle "fake", and demands to know why the children have "never heard of Jesus". As people raised with (or at least in the presence of ) the Christian faith, we can understand Howie's outrage. And we also share Howie's disgust when he discovers that the Summerislanders intend to perform ritual human sacrifice. But, the residents of Summerisle have a different point of view. When Sgt. Howie meets Lord Summerisle, played by Christopher Lee ( the first man I usually think of when I think of a Scotsman), Summerisle explains to Howie that his grandfather, in an attempt to rekindle the spirit of the people living on the island and cure them of their apathy, brought back the old gods. The people, along with the local flora, flourished. The ethic, Lord Summerisle tells Howie, is to love and fear nature, to rely on it, and to "please it when necessary". Summerisle tells Howie that the Christian God is not worshipped on his island because the Christian God failed to help the people. "He's dead," Summerisle says. He had his chance and blew it. When Howie, furious at Summerisle's unrepentant paganism proclaims that Summerisle is a pagan, Summerisle responds, " A heathen conceivably, but not I hope an unenlightened one". But Howie sees Summerisle and his people as just that -- unenlightened. They are backwards, savage, and barbaric. I guess it's alot like spending a night in Devore. Howie knows that Summerisle knows that bringing back the old gods did not make his island prosperous, but correctly using the island's volcanic soil to raise crops that would grow in that environment saved the island and its people. If Summerisle is not an unenlightened pagan, Howie knows, then certainly the people of Summerisle are, as they believe that sacrifice will please the gods and renew their harvests. As he is being led off to his date with the Wicker Man, Howie tells the islanders that burning him will not bring back their failed crops. He says that, if the crops fail again, that no sacrifice other than the Lord Summerisle himself will appease their gods. As Howie burns in the Wicker Man, he sings the Psalm of David ( Psalm 23), while the people of Summerisle, led by Summerisle, sing a triumphant pagan 'let's roast a cop in the fire' song. By the way, there really is a Summerisle located off the coast of Scotland. I'm not sure if the events depicted in the film are representative of events that actually go on there, but rest assured I'm not going there any time soon to find out. This brings us to a very important question: what are we to do when we are confronted with competing moral theories? In particular, how do we decide moral rightness when each side claims that their side is morally correct? What do we do if we have, as in this case, competing religious claims? Ok, let's take out the fact that Lord Summerisle knows that paganism is wacked. Let's say that he, and the people of the island, truly believe that performing human sacrifices will bring back their failed crops. Their gods, they believe, demand that they do. If they do not obey, they believe, the gods will get angry with them and kill their crops, causing the deaths of hundreds of people. So, let's stick Sgt. Howie in the mix. And, like the people of Summerisle, Howie believes that his religion prohibits human sacrifice. His religion, he believes, will punish those who unlawfully shed the blood of an innocent. Each claims that their religion is morally correct. Each operates from a mandate from God or their gods -- including potential punishment if each does not obey. How are we to solve the ethical dilemma? How are we to determine which side is morally correct? Is doing so possible? If there is, which ethical system can/should we appeal to to settle the difference? Usually, when we are faced with ethical dilemmas, even when we pull out the old thought experiment, we consider ethical dilemmas one theory at a time. So, for instance, if everyone in this situation were Kantians, we could easily draw some conclusion as to which side is morally correct. we might say that ritual human sacrifice is murder and that the pagans have no right, morally speaking, to perform their evil deed. Moreover, Sgt. Howie is an unwilling participant, and to sacrifice him is using him as a mere means to their end. Problem solved. We wipe off our hands, and pat ourselves on the back after winning the ethics bowl round. But we can make such an easy decision here. Each side says that it is their moral imperative to act as they do. So now what do we do? Let's look at another theory. Let's say that this time, everyone is a utilitarian. The utilitarian says that we must only act in such a way that will bring the greatest good for the greatest number. Ok. We've got Sgt. Howie on one side saying that the sacrifice won't work. The crops are going to fail, no matter what, and if they fail next year, no sacrifice other than Lord Summerisle himself will do. So, according to Howie, performing the sacrifice will be pretty bad for everyone. So, let's give benefits a plus five, and the negatives a minus twenty. According to Howie, or course. So, after hearing Howie trying to worm out of doing something beneficial, Lord Summerisle says that, if they commit the sacrifice the crops will grow, and the people will prosper. And, Summerisle explains, Howie will benefit as well. Summerisle tells Howie that he will join with the forces of the universe and sit at the right hand of the gods. And even from Howie's Christian perspective, Summerisle says, Howie benefits from having a martyr's death. So Summerisle says the benefits are all plusses -- plus twenty, plus twenty, and plus fifty for Howie. Well, this isn't working. Somehow it seems that Summerisle beats Howie. In fact, Summerisle claims that, if Howie participates, he benefits more than everyone else. Now, the obvious problem here, is these claims, like any utilitarian claim, remain speculative (at best). We don't know whose god is right. There's a chance that Summerisle's gods are the "real" gods. In that case, if we follow Howie's advice, we've done more harm than good. So, is there anything out there that can help us? We might want to abandon, at least for now, any ethical system that takes a definitive stand on rightness or wrongness. So let's try moral relativism. According to the relativist, different cultures have different standards of right and wrong (cultural relativism). From that fact we conclude -- since every culture has a different standard for right and wrong, there exists no universal standard of right and wrong. Therefore, we cannot objectively measure the rightness or wrongness of a given act. Or something like that. Well, this gets us absolutely nowhere. All a relativist can say is that Sgt. Howie has one set of morals and the people of Summerisle have another. They're both right. But unfortunately for Howie, he can't both be burned in the Wicker Man and as far away from that damned island as possible at the same time. So we're back at square one. The natives are lighting their torches and we've got to make a decision, quick. How do we decide which is morally right? Luckily for us in this case, there actually is a way to solve the dilemma. I mentioned before that we should forget that Summerisle knew that paganism is a load of poo. Well, that's our cheat. And even though we are secretly rooting for the pagans, let's face it, Howie was rude and nosy --he deserved to die, we know that Howie is dying for nothing. What makes it worse is the fact that Howie himself knows this as well. We know what the people of Summerisle do not know. We know that Summerisle knows the real reason why his grandfather brought back the old gods. And because of this, we know that sacrificing Howie is wrong. It's wrong because Summerisle is not only using Howie to further his own ends, but he is also using the people of Summerisle for his own benefit. He is relying on their ignorance ot maintain control over them. Although Summerisle claims that he loves his people, we can see that this may not be the case. He loves ruling over them. He enjoys manipulating Sgt. Howie into falling prey to his plan to use him as a sacrifice ( notice that he did not use one of the island's natives but a mainlander). In this case, unlike so many we see in the real world, it is easy to tell. The sacrifice is wrong. Thank the pagan gods that screenwriters make it all so easy.

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.

the most morally bankrupt show NOT on the air

I was watching TV last night, which would be Wednesday. I had spent the entire day watching my collection of season one of Star Trek: the Next Generation, ("Datalore" is still my favorite episode from season 1), when I took a break to watch the newly cancelled show Pushing Daisies. I hesitated watching for a few minutes, because ABC cancelled it, and since they weren't going to get a series finale, I figured what's the point? Generally when it comes to doomed TV shows the wisdom goes, don't feed it anything, it'll follow you home. The object is to not get too attached since you can't keep it anyway. Kind of like being a surrogate mother. But, unfortunately it was either watch it or Boston Legal repeats on ion, so to ABC it was. Strange thing: Since I've been in the disposition to write about philosophy lately, I began watching, and thinking about my former favorite show of the season with, as they say, "new eyes". I had spent an whole afternoon sailing across the galaxy with the morally correct, if not morally enlightened inhabitants of Gene Roddenberry's Star Trek universe. I was suddenly and unexpectedly made uneasy with the moral ambiguity of Ned, the piemaker, his detective partner Emmerson Cod, and his beloved, formerly dead girlfriend Chuck. While I was watching, my thought was, "what a morally corrupt person this Ned guy is!". I saw that this guy had no moral sense at all. If I were a follower of Rand, I would think Ned an exemplary specimen of man, but I was outraged and angered by the serious and quite obvious violations of damn-near every moral theory I could think of. Ned is a walking Kantian violation. So far, I've been able to narrow down my outrage to five main objections: First, Ned has this power that can raise people from the dead, which not only does he keep this a secret, but he is in league with a man who uses said power to raise the dead (specifically murder victims) to gain information from them so they can collect reward money for solving their murders. Now, if one has a talent that is extraordinary and can be used for good, is it moral to hide that talent? We obviously can't accuse Ned of letting his talents rust, so we must think of all the good he is withholding by keeping his talent a secret. Not to mention that by keeping it a secret, he is in serious violation of some utilitarian principles as well. Namely, that he isn't serving the greater good. Also, there is the subject of motivation. Profit. Would Kant say that money is an acceptable reason to do revive the dead? The pursuit of money often requires us to compromise our principles, and compromise is not a word in the Kantian dictionary. Second, this whole Chuck thing. Now I get it, Chuck was Ned's first kiss, and for that, he's fixated on his childhood love for her, blah, blah, blah. But really, if we remember, Ned didn't revive Chuck for her own sake, but for his own. He wanted her to not be dead. He's totally using Chuck as a mere means to his own end, namely for Chuck to not be dead for him. Also, with any two people attracted to each other, as Ned and Chuck are, there is a end, so to speak, to which any healthy relationship heads to -- which, would be, for any young couple coupling -- but Ned can't touch Chuck because doing so would send her right back to Hades. So there's a problem with unsatisfied ends. By not being able to do with Chuck what opposite-gender attracted people do, Ned's depriving Chuck of what she wants from Ned, which is to have a boyfriend that she can touch and get "intimate" with (and she does want "it" from Ned). And, let's also not forget that there was a reward for solving Chuck's murder. Chuck doesn't fit in anywhere into the reason why is is currently undead! She's reduced to the world of mere means. Third -- poor Olive. This woman is treated like crap. Olive likes Ned, but Ned likes Chuck All Olive gets is to look after Ned's undead dog Digby, who Ned can't touch but he has absolutely no problem whatsoever handing over his dog for Olive to tend to. To make matters worse for poor Olive, Ned and Chuck don't even think about the word discression when they flaunt their lovey-doveyness around Olive, who they alternately treat like one of the gang and like a third wheel. Now, I've actually been in this situation in my real life, and I can tell you that it sucks. I suppose that there is some sort of Bentham-esque explanation for treating Olive in this manner. I guess it would be something along the lines of the collective happiness experienced by Chuck, Ned, and Emmerson treating Olive like doo-doo is greater than the total unhappiness experienced by Olive when she has to look at Chuck and Ned do all but go for it right in front of her. I suppose that, if we try to some up with some sort of utilitarian answer for why Olive stays around, we can say that she derives a masochistic pleasure from hanging around. Hanging out with these friends is better than not hanging out at all. Or, we can say that her minimal happiness from just being around Ned is enough for her, despite the fact that she knows that she will never have Ned's love. So, on at least this issue, we can explain, if not partially justify the treatment of Olive. But still, I don't think that makes it right. Fourthly, the dead folks. Now, there is some debate in ethics circles as to whether it is possible to wrong a dead person. I'd say that in the case of the "Pushing Daisies" scenerio, Emmerson and Ned do in fact harm the dead. In this situation, when information is extracted from the dead person, they are very much alive, and more importantly, Ned does not inform the dead person that they only have one extra minute of life, and that, while they are giving their info, they can't touch Ned ( or right back to deadsville). They often withhold this information from people, so these dead folks begin talking and carrying on as if they've been given a reprive from deadosity. I claim that the withholding of information, namely that Ned and Emmerson stand to gain a reward for solving the murder of said dead person, and the fact that they disclude that whole minute rule is a violation of their moral obligation to the dead (?) person. They should at least gain some consent as to whether the dead person actually wants to cooperate with their agenda. And let's (once again) not forget that they are extracting information from a temporarily alive person, so you can't say that their exploiting someone who "does not exist". Lastly, it's was revealed some episodes ago that one of Chuck's aunts is, in fact, her mother. There really is no need to explain the kind and amount of damage that keeping the true parentage of a person away from them causes. We see this one every day. Or, at least we hear about this one from time to time on daytime television. ( Wait, wasn't this what happened to Bobby Darin?) I suppose that there is some legitimate utilitarian explanation for convincing someone that you're their aunt and not their mother, but as the untimely murder of Chuck shows us is that a person may die believing one truth when it turns out that that truth was a lie, and the time that we can correct it passes us by. We are left with our own guilt of not telling the truth. Also, the fact that Chuck's aunt is her mother causes the aunt/mother to withhold information from her sister, who is, for now, blissfully unaware of the truth -- which involves deception on the part of Chuck's aunt and father. Deception, we know for Kant, is never justifiable, no matter what good end we may have in sight. When we deceive others, we deny them the ability to act as fully capable human beings. So, by not telling Chuck who her real mother is, Chuck's aunt denied Chuck the ability to be a full person. Despite the fact that this show has been on the air for only a season and a half, the level of moral bankruptcy that these characters exhibit is on a scale matched only by Heather Locklear on Melrose Place, or that guy that Kevin Spacey played on that show Wiseguy -- the guy that was doing his sister. So, what have I taken away from my brief time with Pushing Daisies? I realize that nothing is harmless. Nothing is immune from the watchful eye of Kantianism. There is no such thing as harmless entertainment. I think that this show is Kantianly all wrong, and was rightfully withdrawn from the air. No, really, what I have learned is that it sucks that low-rated shows tend to be the ones that are the most entertaining, and that the real dilemma is whether we should watch them and get attached, or skip them all together, and miss out on some pretty good entertainment. All I know is that my utilitarian calculus is running a few bars low today, and that I will have to find something else to watch Wednesday nights. Damn.