Mother’s Day Vid – Storytelling

May 13th, 2012   by   Andrew

My parents have always been very patient with me, and I have yet to find a worthy repayment for that patience. Obedience only goes so far. Gratitude is nice, but kind of empty without action. I find now that the best thing I can give them is my full attention, whenever I can.

The storyteller Maurice Sendak died last week. He wrote books about kids that did things wrong, and about people that weren’t always living happy, proper lives. He didn’t push on his readers how children should behave but instead showed us as we are. He understood that our lives are made up of both fact and fiction, but neither have the final say on what we should do with our lives.

“Children do live in fantasy and reality; they move back and forth very easily in a way we no longer remember how to do.” ~ Maurice Sendak

Max is a good example. At the start of his story, he has been acting wild and has been sent to his room. It might not be how he should behave, but sometimes a story has to start somewhere.

 

“Maurice Sendak was strikingly honest. His art gave us a fantastical but unromanticized reminder of what childhood truly felt like. We are all honored to have been briefly invited into his world.” ~ Stephen Colbert

Even though I was pretty sure at one point that I knew everything important, Mom has always shown me through stories that it is what I don’t know that is always more important. That’s why now, more than ever in my life, I try to listen and learn from her.

In this short video, Sendak talks tries to answer “Why bother being born?”, “Why bother to work?”, and why his dog shows up in most of his books.

Maurice Sendak was a lucky man and good hero to mimic. He committed himself to his work and to his life. He didn’t always take himself too seriously. He found his bliss.

Another good video – Dresden Dolls did a cover of Carole King’s version of Maurice Sendak’s story about Pierre, the boy that didn’t care.

Happy Mother’s Day!

 

Karen Armstrong’s Elusive, Stubborn Meme

March 7th, 2012   by   Andrew

Part of the series God: From Magic to Motivation

…the indiscretion of serious art, literature and music, which queries the last privacies of our existence. It is an invasion or an annunciation, which breaks into the small house of our cautionary being and commands us, “Change your life!” After such a summons, the house is no longer habitable in quite the same way as it was before. ~ George Steiner, paraphrased by Karen Armstrong

At the beginning of this series I mentioned I was taking some advice and reading Karen Armstrong’s A History of God. I’m glad I did. I got a lot out of it. I was a little disappointed with her ending. I think she could have been more imaginative. However, I want to limit this post to three points that stood out for me. They relate to the transition of God from a magical thing to an abstract idea that embodies our motivations.

1. In practically each of the three main monotheistic religions, you can find a line of thinkers repeating the refrain, “God is Nothing.” It may never have been the dominant or major voice, but it was a persistent and repetitive one. Highly respected writers, rigorous teachers and responsible community leaders all struggled with the issue of understanding the deity at the supposed centre of their traditions. And they steadfastly concluded that God was Nothing, or God didn’t exist in our usual sense, or that God was incomprehensible, meaning it was impossible to cling to a thought or description or premise of what God was like.

These individuals may have been wrestling with a limitation of the vocabulary and knowledge available at the time. It’s still significant, and I think useful, to the those within religious traditions but are having problems or doubts. There is a rich history of intelligent people within faith communities that come to terms with a God that is “not real” in the more literal sense. Instead, they found a tradition designed to help, symbolically, socially, with the responsibility of managing and examining the motivations of the self.

2. In each of the monotheistic traditions, some form of mysticism dominated at one point in their histories, except for one. Practices like Kabbalah became prominent in the Jewish religion for a period. Sufism held major sway in parts of Islam for long stretches of time, although it has now declined. Even in the Eastern Church (eg: Greek Orthodox), it was encouraged to understand God as an incomprehensible paradox always. But not in the West. Mysticism never gained a popular status in the Western Church.

In the West, mystery was not an option for theology. It was almost repugnant. Even today, mysteries are something to be solved, fixed, nailed down with clarity. It is a weakness or threat to even think of living with the unknown or incoherent. Things like the problem of evil weren’t that big of a deal in traditions that accepted good and evil in their deity, but the Western Church has scrambled to write entire libraries of justifications. This may have helped the advance of ‘the west’, motivated to develop certainty, predictability and power. But also, when conflicts between dogma and new scientific information made change necessary, the Western Church had no accessible mystic tradition for its followers. People in the west have had nothing viable to turn to in negotiating the change (monasteries and nunneries? Progressive interpretations? Come on). Instead, it was outsourced. Forms of Buddhism and Yoga were westernized, popularized and adopted. Why? They certainly work better than the nothing available to turn to.

3. Despite all the serious efforts of academics and even mystics, the average follower’s beliefs have still centered around either concrete, anthropomorphic and self-empowering versions of God, or very vague, self-confirming, therapeutic versions of God. Armstrong often returns to her central theme that an idea or form of god has to work, it has to be effective, if people are going to adopt it and hold to it. If it does nothing for people, that’s when it is discarded. The cerebral probing or accuracy of the idea of god has never really been the interest of the regular community. The adaptive nature of the idea of god means it is still doing the same stubborn job it has always done – compelling people to act in certain ways (or justifying people’s actions).

The intellectual arguments between theists and atheists can be entertaining (rarely, if lucky!), but if  atheists really want to get believers to change, it might make more sense to offer a spectrum of social advantages that compete with the social advantages tied to religious communities. A religious community offers social engagement, business networks, symbolic therapy, motivational speaking and solidarity. It might all be based on something wrong, but as the saying goes, it’s better than nothing. In today’s consumer market, people will shop around, and they just might drop their version of god if they can be a part of something better.

Or, maybe these things are available in the secular world now. If they are, what’s the cost and are they effective at getting people to change their lives?

What do you think?

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1.  The “God is Nothing” tradition stretches from antiquity to today, but this post is already long enough. If you would like a list of names, I can get you started.

2. She says more about this strange exception of Western Christianity in Chapters 6 and 7.

3. Whether or not people should make god into bigger versions of themselves and their motivations, people do this predictably. Maybe we should ask why it is so persistent when there are other, better options. Why don’t people abandon such obviously flawed behaviour? <sarcasm>Correct thinking has always meant better living for individuals…</sarcasm>

 

God: From Magic to Motivation

January 8th, 2012   by   Andrew

I have a new series of posts in mind.

Nassim Taleb gave some advice to a friend. I am borrowing that advice. He recommended reading Karen Armstrong’s A History of God. (I am also borrowing the actual book; my parents had a copy. Thanks again.)

She understands that religion is mostly an emotional-aesthetic commitment and one that is shared with other people; it becomes a collective commitment. It is not about belief, but about trust. It is not a desire to be fooled by randomness by seeing false patterns (or, as she explains in her Great Transformation, it ceased to be so at some point in the sixth century BC). I am ashamed to say that I was initially reluctant to start reading it because she was not an academic/dropped out of an academic program –not realizing that it is precisely because she is not an academic that there is no single fake bone in her work. I felt guilty and silly at my neglect: the book had been staring at me since 1994. And there is this nagging feeling: How many other people have I ignored based on the same idiotic criterion? (source, #81)

From the jacket of her book:

Any particular idea of God must – if it is to survive – work for the people who develop it. Ideas of God change when they cease to be effective. The concept of a personal God who behaves like a larger version of ourselves was suited to mankind at a certain stage but no longer works for an increasing number of people. Understanding the ever-changing ideas of God in the past and their relevance and usefulness in their time is a way to begin the search for a new concept for the twenty-first century. Such a development is virtually inevitable, because it is a natural aspect of our humanity to seek a symbol for the ineffable reality that is universally perceived.

I think this new concept of God doesn’t need to rely on superstition or on the supernatural. I don’t even think this symbol, however we point at it, needs to be given agency or authority. And if we do it right, I think we will be able to test it.

It’s actually an old concept, something we’ve been wrestling with since we’ve become conscious of our motivations.

Here are some ideas and titles I’m working on:

God: From Magic to Motivation

My Recent Empathy Fail

Stigma and Introspection

A Brief History of God, and Possibly, Motivation – a look at words and meaning

Religion as (Cultural) Redundancy, and all the more important because of it!
Part 1 – Multiple Conservatives, the Dangers of Optimizing
Part 2 – Separating Church and State, Separating Hero and Nanny

Burqa, Panentheism, Responsibility – an examination of what has implications for our behaviour

Can we Do without Religon? – a look at a Jared Diamond talk

The Myth of Violence - TED talk with Steven Pinker

Wikipedia Shuts Down their English Site, and Vain Denials of the New Reality

Karen Armstrongs Elusive, Stubborn Meme – Three ideas from the book A History of God

Obfuscation

Implications, Relationships, Symbolism

Marvin the Android (from the HHGtotheG), and Being Smart Enough to Pick your Programming

Myth as Reinforcing Critical Thinking – Inspired by Dale McGowan’s family and Santa Claus

William Lane Craig Confirms My God

Science as an Emotional-Aesthetic Commitment
Part 1 – Rationalism as Religion – first thoughts
Par 2 – The Tenets of Rationalism: At First Glimpse
Part 3 – The Narrative Fallacy Revisited 

Skepticism and Associated Learning – a look at how we manage Patternicity

The Myth of Growth – The greatest shortcoming of the human race is our inability to understand the exponential function

Ultimate Complexity and Cultural Regeneration – I’ve been Reading Shantaram

Texting, the Literal Written Word, RElationships, “Pron”

Efficient Signalling
Part 1 – Shantaram and Indian Head Wiggles
Part 2 – Signalling as Expressing Motivation, and the Role of Story

The Deadau5 lesson on Religion’s Future

A New Ataraxia  - the inner peace from the skeptical suspension of belief and disbelief, or, not filling holes with ideas just to say the holes are filled.

What do you think?

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(Note: I think I’m developing a potentially unhealthy bro-crush for Nassim Taleb. I want to write a song based on his ideas. Do you know the song “Synchronicity” by The Police? I want to find a karaoke version and put over-top of it a tongue-in-cheek ditty called “Platonicity”  or maybe “Patternicity”… any ideas or help with lines would be appreciated…)

The Last Ringbearer

November 18th, 2011   by   Andrew

Supplement to the series Myths and Dragons

J.R.R. Tolkien compared his Lord of the Rings to history, as in the retelling of events. He is also known to have had a “cordial dislike” of analogy, as in the comparing of two things because of similar features. For example, Tolkien wasn’t writing about World War II Europe. Tolkien may have drawn inspiration from his own world and experiences. He was, however, trying to give an account of events in the fantastic world of his imagination, Middle-Earth.

A friend told me this week about a free ebook. More than ten years ago, a Russian palentologist by the name of Kirill Yeskov wrote a follow-up story to Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings called The Last Ringbearer. Yeskov has, in a sense, called Tolkien on the consequences of using a word like history. History, being a retelling of events, is not always about accuracy or truth. It is, after all, written by the victors.

In Yeskov’s version, Gandalf is a war-monger. The elves wish to rule Middle-Earth and make it a copy of their distant homeland. Sauron and his followers are champions of rational progress, fostering a new technological boom. The orcs are not mal-figured, goblin-like demons but ordinary men in the military service of a different culture. Hobbits don’t take part in the story at all.

I haven’t read Yeskov’s The Last Ringbearer but I hope to get to the English version over the winter.

I have been trading books back and forth with my friend for a while. He tore through the recent Malazan books from Steven Erikson. Erikson has a background in anthropology and archaeology. I still haven’t read the last book of Erikson’s ten-book series, and I receive a lot of flack from my friend about that.

Erikson is challenging most of the old stereotypes in fantasy literature, such as mediaeval chivalry, elite noble rulers and rosy happy endings. There are no blatantly clear lines between good and evil for Erikson. No didactic writing here, so he says. My favourite quote from Erikson is some advice to writers these days:

If your theme survives the telling of the tale, then you effed up bad.”

Erikson’s writing does have its fair share of present-day tropes. There is a lot of intriguing turns of plot, constant games of power between characters, and the reader is often left wondering who to root for. Magic in Erikson’s world is a complex study. It rewards only the most disciplined of students. And it is not immune to innovation and technology. His storylines focus on the regular foot soldier and the catastrophic futility at the heart of war and domination. But his soldiers are still bound in strange ways to their duty.

Erikson, like Yeskov, is quite critical when it comes to Tolkien. In an interview once, Erikson stated that Tolkien made a massive mistake at the end of Lord of the Rings. If his message was about self-sacrifice, according to Erikson, he should have had Frodo step into the fire, destroying himself and the ring of power, letting the little hero be the one to topple the dominant will of Mordor.

I believe Erikson has misunderstood Tolkien. Tolkien was trapped in his own worldview. He was a devout Catholic and believed there was only one person that could measure up to the task of true self-sacrifice. Frodo could take up the journey and the hardships. Frodo, and his friend Sam, were children that had a thorough understanding of the importance of duty. But as gifted a writer as he was, Tolkien simply couldn’t let Frodo step into the fire. I’d be surprised to hear if he even considered it a possibility. It would have clashed entirely with his worldview.

Yeskov and Erikson have every right to question the old stories, I think. Although Tolkien did consider his work to be like history, he did understand it to be the work of imagination.History isn’t always the story of what really happened. History often comes closer to what we should think about what happened. This doesn’t mean the historian is always an authority. The historian is giving an opinion. It’s up to the reader or the listener to make any source an authority. Or to challenge it.

Earlier in this series I talked about how story isn’t so much a map of what is, but rather a map of what should be – not an account of reality but the author’s attempt to express how we should act. Tolkien’s work isn’t so much an account of reality, obviously, but instead what he thinks should be. It sounds like that’s exactly what Yeskov and Erikson are doing too.

Strangely, there might be something all three writers could possibly agree on – the story of the soldier.

Tolkien has a reputation for his descriptive writing. You can count the trees, and the types of trees, and the different shades of the leaves when his characters walk through the woods. However, Tolkien’s description of what orcs look like is actually quite limited. Like many of the words Tolkien introduced to English, the word itself seems to have come from some wordplay. The word is not always used for things like ‘demon’ or ‘goblin’ but instead for ‘soldier’. When orcs do talk in Lord of the Rings, they seem to be rough characters trying to figure out what to do in unknown situations, keeping their heads down when they can, and doing the dirty work of their supposed superiors.

Tolkien was a soldier in World War I and suffered from shell-shock.

Maybe the story of the soldier – what sacrifices and duties they bear or we put on these scapegoats – should be what we are looking at now. Can a culture survive if it destroys its children and treats them like expendable sacrifices? Isn’t that a signal of a society more intent on domination than leaving behind something sustainable or noble?

Yeskov and Erikson may be worth listening to. There may be something wrong with accepting the old tropes without question. Maybe it’s worth challenging leaders and authorities in order to prove if they are worthy of following. It might give us a clearer picture of what they themselves are willing to sacrifice.

What do you think?

Atheists are Copy-Cats!

November 5th, 2011   by   Andrew

Chapter 18 of the series Myths and Dragons

What’s up with atheists mimicking the religious groups they usually love to criticize?

A. C. Grayling has published “The Good Book: A Humanist Bible“. It’s an impressive tome of over 600 two-columned pages. Separate books with names like Genesis, Parables, Acts and The Epistles each have chapters and numbered verses.  Grayling has borrowed from many sources from around the world, some older and some younger than those found in Hebrew and Christian Bibles.

The author makes no claim that his work is authoritative in any way. In one interview, Grayling suggests the book is a “gentle teasing” rather than a defiant strike against religion. And some of that gentle teasing seems to be pointed at himself as much as anyone else that might take their beliefs too seriously:

“How can you be a militant atheist? It’s like sleeping furiously.”


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James Dunbar has put together Bang! The Universe Book, and It’s Alive! These  graphic novels convey the origins of the universe and life through accessible stories and illustrations.

It’s quite the challenge to combine scientific explanations with rhyming couplets, but Dunbar has made something really fun and remarkable. And his characters look oddly familiar. Who would you say they look like?

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In an earlier post, I looked at P.Z. Meyers’ creed for atheists. I don’t seriously think many non-believers would religiously adopt and recite Meyers’ creed. However, if someone were to live by it, I think I’d have a pretty good idea about what they were like and how they would behave.

Mimicry seems to play a big part in in the make-up of human nature. What’s really intriguing though is why we copy so much around us. Psychologists have put together some interesting studies in order to understand things like social rejection and acceptance. Some studies suggest the more someone feels rejected, the more they might actually copy (unconsciously) other people.  (Follow this link for a summary, or this link for the original research article from Lakin, Chartrand and Arkin, or this link about the Chameleon Effect as Social Glue.)

There is also some evidence to suggest that (unconsciously) copying someone else with behaviour, posture and language style tends to make that someone else feel closer and more empathetic towards others. When we are accepted (or at least copied) and when we feel we belong, we might even be more willing to help and listen to others.

Mimicry might not be the only motivation for Grayling’s good book or Dunbar’s creation stories or even Meyers’ creed, but it makes me a little more hopeful for the future, actually. By rejecting or excluding certain groups, religious people have by their very nature brought this upon themselves.

Maybe these stories and artistic efforts and bold declarations aren’t made with intentions to separate non-believers from believers, but instead to bring people closer together. In a sense, these writers are using the body language of story. By copying the frame of sacred books or creation stories or holy creeds,  Grayling, Dunbar and Meyers are building bridges to help us face what we don’t know and who we don’t understand. And those bridges might lead us to where we should be, together.

It’s remarkable what a good story can bring together.

What do you think?

Are atheists just copy-cats?

Would you read Grayling’s Bible, or Dunbar’s creation stories?

Would you live by Meyers’ creed?

Obasan – The Divide Between What IS and What SHOULD BE

October 18th, 2011   by   Andrew

Liz, Naomi and Lyra – Three Daughters, Three Stories

Chapter 16 of the series Myths and Dragons

Part 1 – Liz and Empathy’s Dirty Little Secrets
Part 2 – Naomi and the Hard Decisions Between What is and What Should Be
Part 3 – Lyra and Changing the Metaphors (or Making a New Map over the Old)

Setup:

In the first part of this series I looked at three mythic male heroes that make up a significant part of our ancient cultural heritage. In the second part of this series I looked at three new myths from science fiction that I think will shape how the future generations will frame their personal experiences. In this last part of the series, I want to look at the stories of three women. What do they say about our maps for behaviour – how the individual navigates between the known world and the unknown world?

Joy Kogawa‘s short novel Obasan is a testament to the consequences of a misguided and fearful social order that “eats its own children.” A daughter loses her mother when very young and looks back through her memories to sort out the past and the present. Her mother traveled to Japan and was unable to return due to the start of World War II. In the interest of national security, the Canadian government would not admit Japanese-Canadian citizens back into the country. Those living along the coast lost almost all personal rights and were moved into internment camps.


The story begins with a quote from the book of Revelation:

To him that overcometh
will I give to eat of the hidden manna,
and will give him a white stone,
and in the stone a new name written… (Rev. 2:17)

Kogawa’s poetic style enriches every page. Although the book is supposed to be a fictional account of a girl named Naomi, Kogawa has immersed her story in some incredibly vivid and life-defining memories. The story has much to say about how a fearful society relates to “the other ” or the outsider or the alien, but I want to focus on how four of the characters react to being “the other”, and the “new names” they write for themselves in search of order – Aunt Aya, Aunt Emily, Stephen and Naomi.

1. Aunt Aya
Naomi and her brother Stephen are brought up by an aunt and uncle after they lose their mother and later their father. Her aunt is called Oba or Obasan (from the Japanese for aunt). Obasan is constantly accepting “what is” in Naomi’s memories. Obasan does not fight for her house or campaign against the government. Always she thanks her God for the life she has and accepts segregation with little more than silence. She even keeps to the traditional Asian meals. Naomi reflects upon her aunt’s silence, her refusal to take action, with admiration and frustration. Obasan seems only willing to shoulder the burden, to be the sacrifice for the country, and serve the two children in her care.

2. Aunt Emily
Aunt Emily is constantly in motion. When Aunt Em visits, she does not stay for long and spends the time educating the rest of the family on the sins of the government. She is attempting to redress the loss of rights and property brought upon Japanese-Canadian citizens. Emily is a writer and is surrounded with paper each time she makes an appearance in Naomi’s memories.Where Obasan is willing to sacrifice herself for the Canada she calls home, Emily seeks to face up to the awful experiences and fight for the ideal, or what Canada should be. Emily is willing fight for what her life and her family’s life should be like, never succumbing to fear or immobility. But also, Emily sees herself as only “Canadian” and does not refer to herself as “Japanese-Canadian.” Focusing only on “what should be” comes at the cost of no longer seeing “what is.” Naomi tolerates Aunt Emily for the most part, with a traditional Japanese humility and modesty. But as Emily stirs up the memories of the past, Naomi grudgingly finds some value in facing up to those dragons of the past.

How different my two aunts are. One lives in sound, the other in stone. Obasan’s language remains deeply underground but Aunt Emily, BA, MA, is a word warrior. She’s a crusader, a little old grey-haired Mighty Mouse, a Bachelor of Advanced Activists and General Practitioner of Just Causes. (32)

3. Stephen
Naomi’s older brother Stephen immerses himself in music. His childhood and his identity are taken away from him step by step until nothing is left except the discipline of the piano. When given the chance to create a new life as a musician, he abandons almost all of his past. By the end of the book, he has little contact with his sister or his relatives. He has escaped. He is living in Europe with a woman and they seem intent on not having children. He is no longer Japanese or Canadian but solely defined as a musician (what he does rather than what he is or should be). He has kept the past behind him by finding his own way. And his new way ensures his past won’t be repeated in any future generations.

4. Naomi
The story begins with Naomi in her mid-thirties teaching a class of children. She is single and has no children of her own. She seems to be the only one left in the family who is “Japanese-Canadian”. But, her balance between the two identities, like the balance between the past and present, has rendered her almost spiritually immobile. She does little but observe the others in the story like she observes her memories. Frustrated with Obasan, avoiding Emily, a stranger to Stephen, and struggling to find that new name on the stone of her own identity, Naomi may get a taste of the manna referred to in the passage from Revelation, but it does not ensure enlightenment or transcendence.

These four characters can be associated with four common hero types:

1. The sacrifice or the scapegoat
2. The warrior or revolutionary
3. The escapist or creator of new order
4. The seeker or tragic wanderer with no home

Regardless of what character the audience may identify with or learn from, each one comes from “the outside”, in a sense. Each hero in this story is made by the oppressive social order putting a symbolic or political or legal wall between the character and the rest of society. I think this is part of the cultural make-up we are living in now. This is the invisible mythology that defines how we treat others and new information. And it also suggests why pop culture and information technology are constantly exposing the out-group to the in-group.

Joy Kogawa was made a Member of the Order of Canada due in part to Obasan and also due to her efforts ensuring the country does not forget this chapter of our history.

As soon as we draw a line between an ‘us’ and a ‘them’ (which psychologically happens every time we meet someone or find ourselves in a new experience) we have created either a place where the hero must go or a place where the hero must come from. But as a world society, as a global village (or group of global villages), we have run out of places to rebuild the walls, physically and culturally. When we do attempt to put them up again, as Canada did in fear of the Japanese threat in war, we destroy our own social order, lose our own children and create the heroes that will challenge those walls.

We have reached a stage in our development where any walls we build, between economic classes, national cultures, even those between us and our certain enemies, could lead to the collapse and failure of all we hold so precious.

In an electric information environment, minority groups can no longer be contained – ignored. Too many people know too much about each other. Our new environment compels commitment and participation. We have become irrevocably involved with, and responsible for, each other. ~ Marshall McLuhan.

What do you think?

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Further (and sources):

Speaking the Silence – Gary Willis

Concentric Worlds in “Obasan” – Erika Gottlieb

Sparknotes