Wednesday, November 30, 2011

God in the absolute

After class last week I stopped Dr. J and asked her about God. First of all I believe that the idea of and for God, in the existential sense, can be replaced with absolute. This is what I think to be the common ground between Christian existentialists and their atheist counterparts.

The next point that we talked about was whether or not the ideas were even more closely related then that. If God was created by man (or at least the way we perceive God) then wouldn't the ideas of both theories have originated from the exact same thing historically? Also, if Yahweh is the right way then the ideas of atheism that are discussed by the existentialists then their ideas were borrowed from that of religions. Both view points focus on the individual; as long as they take responsability for their actions, or at least believe they play a part in their telos, then I believe the two concepts to be compatiable.

Patrick's and Phang's examples of the cloud and the two ideas connected and being intertwined seems to have a strong likelyness in my view. While their core beliefs are not the same they originated from one another, and in order for something to exist and take meaning its opposite must as well.

Does this make sense and do you agree? Can God be interchanged with the absolute? Do these ideas stem from the same concept? Are these even some of the links that atheist and Christian existentialists have in common?

Friday, November 18, 2011

The Supernatural and Existentialism

Existentialism recreates concepts like the human and morality by stripping them of existentialist framework and defining them in relation to freedom and the question of Being. This subject emanating phenomena also has a lot to tell us about the nature of the Supernatural questions of being that we have. Since existentialism has a very anti-objective bent to it, supernatural beliefs are easily created within its methodologies. This is clear given the sheer commonality of the use of existential concerns to justify belief in the supernatural.

God the Watcher
One common concern of theistic existentialism is the need to be watch in order to restrain ones freedom. Without this watching god, the sense of vertigo arises, in which one does not trust oneself not to go on a killing rampage. As an atheist, I often hear this argument directed towards me. This argument has a long history that goes before Existentialism, per se, developed, but it is a properly existentialist idea. 

The Watcher allows a person to feel that no one can get away with evil. Some people feel a need for ultimate justice, a need everything in this world will make sense. This was one of the specific drives for Camus's concept of Philosophical suicide. The positing of a God is used to correct the lack of justice that is the condition of an indifferent universe. It is easy to conclude from the way Camus paints the subject's relation to the Absurd that philosophical suicide might indeed be inevitable given a desire for meaning, justice, and the lessening of the burden of freedom.

Intrusive Manichean Forces

Since gods are often used existentially to lessen the burden of freedom, especially given the burden of morality, supernatural struggles between good and evil are posited as well. This is where the Devil comes from. Temptations and other self-oriented facts of human life often get attributed to the Devil because of this distrust of the self. 

In extreme forms of this, the self is seen as completely at the mercy of the direction of the struggle of good and evil that occurs in the self. In Angels in America, the character Joe when he describes the temptation of sinful homosexuality and the struggle with God as being analogous to Jacob wrestling with an Angel, wherein losing means you lose your soul, so you cannot win against the angel, but you must not lose. This struggle makes humans prisoners to supernatural forces, absolved of freedom yet strangely held responsible for the consequences. In the Disney version of Hunchback on Notre Dame, the villain absolves himself of responsibility for the temptation for having a gypsy in a similar struggle but between man and the Devil. His line "It is God's fault for making the Devil so much stronger than a man" is just one line in this song (see video below) of the villain relinquishing his freedom to external forces. 


I-It has meaning

In class on Thursday, we discussed a selection from Buber which makes a distinction between two different types of interactions: I-Thou and I-It. Buber emphasizes the dialogical mode of being through the I-Thou rather than the monological mode of being through the I-It.

The I-Thou interaction stresses mutual, interdependent, holistic existence between two beings. The interaction is a concrete encounter that is real and perceivable, yet unprovable and devoid of content. Such an interaction occurs between two people or between a person and God. The important distinction about the I-Thou interaction is that there is something about God that is revealed, meaning infinity and universality are made actual.

In the I-It interaction, the two beings do not actually meet; rather a person encounters the other being as an idea -- an object. Such an interaction occurs between an object and a person or even two people.

Buber argues that the I-Thou relationship is that of a dialogue, while the I-It relationship is that of a monologue. In the I-Thou relationship, the two beings interact in a manner that has resistance, while the I-It relationship does not have resistance, but rather submission. For example, Dr. J mentioned in class that a relationship between a person and a cup is an I-It interaction because the cup is not resisting the person in any manner.

Now that we have a grasp of the distinction between I-It and I-Thou, we can address my question. In class, Dr. J mentioned that the I-It relationship is the “cripple” relationship because it is vacant of meaning, while the I-Thou relationship has meaning. Why can’t the I-It relationship have meaning?

I would argue that the I-It relationship can have some degree of meaning. How else do we gain knowledge? We encounter objects and ideas through I-It interactions, which advances technology and knowledge. I acknowledge that technology also advances through interactions with other people but that isn’t my focus. Wouldn’t this mean that there is a degree of meaning in the I-It relationships? If there isn’t any meaning, then how does advancement of knowledge fit into this idea? Would Buber argue that the I-It interaction is devoid of meaning because of the lack of a presence of God/universality/infinity?

I think I may have answered my own question, that I-It can’t have meaning, but I think there must be more to the argument than such a simple answer. What do you think?

Gender Is Not Merely Subjective

In class this week, I was intrigued by our discussion regarding the contrasting definitions of sex and gender; particularly Professor Johnson's question as to whether or not we should assume that this dichotomy has become so ingrained within our modern culture that we now take the distinction for granted. I pose that this is indeed the case, however, it proves a detriment to our understanding. We have grown so accustomed to separating the concepts into two distinct identities that we neglect fully comprehending their differences; if analyzed, i believe there exist certain discrepancies that would complicate a complete separation of the two concepts.
We defined sex as purely biological, consisting of physical human anatomy. This definition, in contrast to its "opposite," implies that gender does not have such an objective existence; it does not have an innate, comprehensive form, rather it consists of mere subjective expressions. In this sense, while we are objectively bound to our sex (ignoring the issue of transgenders), we are free to choose our own gender. This freedom to choose implies a conscious decision, which I found problematic during our discussion. I do not find it realistic that such an intentional consciousness is present when expressing a gender identity. If consciousness is absent, however, its lack of presence would not imply freedom, but rather a substantial innateness.
Ben provided a counterargument, suggesting that culture and society has, in a sense, stolen our subjectivity and subsequently informs our perceptions of what is considered "normal." I agree with this statement, to a degree. Modern culture, insofar as it is an extension of ourselves, informs our perspective of the world to a large degree. However, the problem with this argument, I find, is that it does not leave room for social change, which itself becomes the strongest argument for an innate gender. If society provides the definitions that we must adhere to, why would anyone instigate change? Unless people are reacting for the sole reason of rebellion (which I do not think is the case), then such desires to change the norm must stem from an innate inclination to change the standard...which would imply a certain objectivity within the definition of gender.

Gender and Bad Faith

This week during our discussion of Simone de Beauvoir's work, we examined the difference between sex and gender. The former is a biological technicality, written clearly and explicitly on your birth certificate. The latter, on the other hand, is a social performance or project, something and individual must develop for him or herself. As Beauvoir herself says, "One is not born a woman, but becomes one." Such a claim is consistent with Sartre's claim that "existence precedes essence." A person is male or female before he or she becomes a man or a woman.

What I found most interesting was the notion that gender is not a constant; it is not a trait that a person creates for themselves but then never evaluates further. If we consider gender to be a spectrum or gradation rather than an either/or distinction, it becomes easier to imagine an individual being closer to one end on some days and closer to the opposite end on other days. Bad Faith was mentioned in class in relation to one's sexuality, but I began to think of its application to this gender spectrum. If it is the case that each individual is constantly fluctuating between masculinity and femininity, in some ways finding themselves male and in other ways female, then would calling oneself wholly male or wholly female be acting in Bad Faith? It certainly is reminiscent of Sartre saying that we act in Bad Faith when we consider ourselves to be wholly transcendent or wholly at the mercy of our facticity.

Consider a woman who calls herself a woman, yet also claims to identify much more with the male gender. She is not easily overcome by emotion, she is not delicate or feminine, and she does not dress in "pretty" clothes. She is fully aware of her departure from the woman gender, but she still considers herself a part of it. Is this Bad Faith?

Of course, this may be an unfair evaluation. It's very likely that this hypothetical woman would not be aware of the difference between sex and gender. It's even more likely that she would not believe gender to be a spectrum. But if she were told those things, would she still consider herself a woman or would she consent to being, at least in part, a male?

The example of drag queens is especially interesting when considering Bad Faith, because it would seem that they are the most sincere in their gender role. They recognize both their feminine and masculine characteristics and don't try and throw themselves into one gender.

Martin Buber and The Case for God

Essentially, human beings have two natures when it comes to interacting with the world, with each other, and with God. The first relationship that we have is called the I-Thou, which is the absolute relationship that we have with the others. The second relationship is the I-It. In this case, the I-It relationship between the human subject and objects. The reason that it is separated is due to the way we interact with others and with objects. Individuals do not interact the same way with objects as they do with other individuals. Because we recognize that the individual is unique in the sense that there are no specific defining qualities that define our being, the individual to individual relationship is absolute. The I-Thou relationship is that; it is the dialogue, the conversation, and the connected-ness that we have with each other. We understand them as a whole. It is not the facticities of the individual's life that we just recognize in this relationship, but it is everything else that make them who they are that we recognize. The I-Thou relationship is special in this sense. Because we can see value in the others, it is the reason that the emphasis of the two natures is in the I-Thou.

On the other hand, there is the I-It. The I-It relationship, is just the opposite nature. When we are not interacting in the I-Thou nature, then we are interacting with the world in the I-It nature. The I-It nature, even though has a value, it does not connect with us wholly. People do not recognize objects as they do others. For one, they cannot fully communicate with objects. The fact that we cannot is enough to understand that the interaction is not absolute. The I-It relationship allows the the subject to only understand the object for what it is. For the most part, it is the facticity that we recognize; we recognize the use of the object, and that it can be reproduced (for the most part).

Even though we can treat subjects as objects and vice versa, it ceases to be the I-Thou relationship. Because at the I-Thou relationship, there are no mediated forces that act between the subject-to-subject. It means that there are no influences and or other social ideas that divide the relationship between the subject-to-subject.

So how does this relate to God?

Well God is the ultimate. He is the absolute absolute relationship that we recognize. In this relationship, there are not any mediating forces between the I-Thou. Also, in the I-Thou with God, God is revealed to the individual directly. There is no need to find God. He is directly with the individual.

If you believe in a God: I believe that since God is the foundation for all other interactions, God is important in existentialism. God is necessary to define our human realities and to examine our world that we live in.

If you do not believe in a God: It is still necessary to understand how the others interact with the world; thus giving credit to some of the formations of our ideas and responses to the others' world (Even though I think this will be argued).

This is what I get out of it.

If I am interpreting Buber wrong, let me know. Also, please add on to it if you interpret it differently.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Understanding the I-Thou

Today in class we discussed Buber’s conception of the I-thou and the I-it. One of the most important structures of the I-thou relationship is that ‘I’ encounter the Other in its radically alterity. Dr. J made the point that insofar as I interact with another, there will always be some part of her experience that I cannot experience. Even if we have the ‘same’ experience, she will have it as her and I will have it as me. We can’t ever know what it is like to be the other because if you did, you wouldn’t be yourself.

Fundamentally I agree with this. However I think it depends on what is meant by the I-thou relationship. I agree with Dr. J insofar as the I-thou relationship is seen epistemologically. There are definitely parts of the other that I do not, and more importantly cannot know. There is a radical epistemological alterity in the other. I also agree that such an unmediated epistemological encounter would indeed be infinite and absolute.

However if the I-thou relationship is seen ontologically, then I don’t agree. Taking a look back at Heidegger, Dasein, as Being-with, has its relationships with other Dasein as a primordial ontological structure. Dasein wouldn’t be Dasein without those relationships. Of course, other Dasein will have their own relationships with other things that I, as Dasein, am not directly interacting with (care for/about). However, I don’t see those as having the status of radical alterity implied in the I-thou. Dasein, for Heidegger, is a relational being, not an individualized being.

While Buber is not explicit in the way he describes the I-thou, he seems to be more interested in the ontological relationship between the I and the thou. I at least would argue that the ontological relationship is more interesting, if not more important than the epistemological one.

Is this an unfair characterization of Buber’s thought? Is there another way of interpreting the I-thou relationship?

Friday, November 11, 2011

The Void on the Graph


I was really intrigued by the graphing of artificial intelligence versus human perception of this intelligence that we talked about on Tuesday. We represented the y axis as human reaction, and the x axis as how “human” something is. In the second and third quadrants of our xy plane, we have a valley. Where this valley intersects the y axis, there is a hole in the graph. This point on the graph, was it there, would represent a perfect replica of humanity. Of course, this point cannot exist because the idea of a perfect replica is paradoxical. A replica qua replica would recognize itself as a duplicate, thus making it an imperfect replica. Infinitesimally close to this break in the graph are two beings that elicit the most negative reaction. On the left, the closest possible imitation of human life, which would be disconcerting to say the least. And on the other side there is a corpse.  On the right side, the graph has a steady positive slope, the more “human”, the more positive our reaction. The left side, however, is much more complicated. Less human imitations of life prompt a neutral response and as the machines become more human, the more positive our response. An example of this progression would be R2D2, Wall-e, C3P0. At a certain point, however, the imitations become too lifelike. They are creepy and we react negatively. Our in class example was Tom Hanks in Polar Express, it was just off enough to prompt a negative response. Dolls and mannequins could also fall within quadrant three, because they are inert but their façade is a fairly accurate imitation of life.
My question is what could fill the void in our graph, where the positive slope drops off, but there is still a positive response. In class, I asked if this void could possibly be filled by something like Avatar: extremely realistic humanoids that possess humanity, but physically are clearly of a separate species. We react positively to the Na’vi because they are very human in their hopes and fears; we are able to empathize with them. They don’t, however, challenge our physical identity as humans, because their blue skin, stature, and markings identify them as a distinct species. I think the Na’vi might be able to fill the void in our graph because they are very realistic depictions of humanoids, but still elicit a positive response. I wonder if the Na’vi should even be included on the graph, though, because they are clearly not trying to depict humans.
Any other ideas about what could fill that void? I’ve been racking my brains, but I can’t think of any other examples.

Posthumanism is (not) an Existentialism

During our meeting with Dr. James, we discussed what sorts of ideas existentialism could offer to posthumanism, or, more generally, what relation there is between existentialism and posthumanism. After Dr. J's remarks, we seemed to have collectively come to the conclusion that posthumanism does not follow from existentialism: Posthumanism appears to want to arrive at an essence for us that is posthuman, a new way of defining us that goes beyond human, which seems to contradict the existentialist claim that humanity has no essence. It is a nothing. My vague title should indicate that I do not hold a strong position as to the proper relation between posthumanism and existentialism; rather, like what Dr. James said, I question the question and challenge that the relationship can really be evaluated at this point.

One important thing that someone pointed out is that we don't have a definitive idea of what the human is. We have traditional humanism, which regards man as being created in the image of God, or as wholly rational, etc., but then we also have existentialist humanism that regards humans as having no essence. Posthumanism is against the first notion of the human, as is existentialism. However, given that there is no established answer as to what is the human, can we really say that the two philosophies are necessarily in conflict? Perhaps we can observe Dr. J's observation and point out the difference in the positive aspects of the respective philosophies: Posthumanism seeks to arrive at that posthuman essence (whatever it is) while existentialism sees us as forever becoming. However, posthumanists seem vague as to whatever that new essence is, only defining it in terms as beyond that which is human: So crediting them with a complete idea of the posthuman seems erroneous at this point -- and since there does not seem to yet be a definitive posthuman, it seems possible that posthumanists could borrow from existentialist ideas of our proper essence (or lack there of) and regard it as posthuman. Also, in their negative aspect, they do both seek to disavow themselves from the liberal humanism, both agreeing in what (post)humans are not, so perhaps they are not in such conflict after all.

I am curious as to what other people think on the relation between posthumanism and existentialism. As I said, I have no definite position myself, but I am reopening the issue for discussion. Does the present vague idea of the human pose a challenge of the proper relation between posthumanism and existentialism? Is the lack of a definitive posthuman essence conducive for existentialism? Are they alike or disalike?

Bow Down To Your Robo-Lords

All this discussion about post-humanism and cyborgs and the uncanny valley has got me thinking, would robots and cyborgs gaining control in society be that bad of a thing? Think about it: what would be wrong with, if the technology could be perfected, something other than a human ruled the earth, as long as our existence was not threatened or harmed? If the robots were completely logical in the strictest sense, and had no emotional input or otherwise human influences on their judgments, why wouldn’t we want them in positions of power?

I think it’s because essentially, as humans, we are scared of losing control of our world. This is a product of us, in our existence, being in total control of our world for as long as we can remember. Turning over our power to something non-human, no matter how rational and right the robot-overlords may be. Also, due to all the movies and sci-fi stories about it, I feel we have an inner fear of robots gaining a self-consciousness and self-awareness and turning into human-esque features.

The fear of robots and humanoid robots is really interesting to me as well. After our discussion of the uncanny valley and the fear of things the more and more they became human-esque, I am finding it hard to distinguish if we are scared of the human form of the robot itself, or the something close to human with greater intelligence than we could have. Furthermore, I am having trouble drawing a line where the human-robot line would be, and at what point would a cyborg cross the line from human to robot? Perhaps this is hard to determine, because as we have discussed in existentialism, human existence comes before essence. Since it’s so hard to determine what essentially defines a human, that is why it is hard to draw the line between human and robot in the case of cyborgs.

If there was a race of human-designed super-robots with perfect software and infallible reasoning and logic, but no self-awareness or self-conciousness, with the lack of emotion, would you be opposed to them ruling us? Why or why not?

The Robotic Threat

I found our discussion on Tuesday about the uncanny valley completely fascinating, and I've actually been thinking about it a lot. Obviously, I haven't spent near as much time on it as Dr. J, so I know there are things I'm not thinking through all the way, but I want to consider another possibility for the drop-off in the uncanny valley.

Of course, I think that attributing the valley to humans' fear of deception is quite apt. As I mentioned in class, it would be extremely unnerving to hear that your friend had actually been replaced by a robot double. This isn't because robots are inherently scary, but because no one wants to think that they were fooled so well that they couldn't even tell their friend had been replaced by an impostor. As robots become increasingly more human-esque, so does the fear that we'll no longer be able to tell who's a robot and who isn't.

As much as I like this theory, I feel like there's got to be something further. One idea that I've come up with is that humans feel threatened by robots in several different ways. First, there is the familiar sci-fi plot: in a futuristic world, robots have become a staple in everyday life, often with one present in the home to perform domestic chores. However, they've developed such higher thinking capabilities that they recognize their inferiority to humans, and thus turn and revolt upon mankind. This AI revolution has been present in so many entertainment mediums in the last few decades that I believe the public has a general idea of the (fictional?) prospective threat. The more advanced robotics becomes, the more this threat seems to encroach.

Aside from the more direct, aggressive threat proposed in a robot revolution, I think that humans are also afraid to lose their dominating, superior status in the world. We're already aware of the benefits that machines such as robots bring to industry, but as they're becoming more widespread they're being utilized in myriad other ways, from vacuuming rooms to performing surgery. While the idea of using robots to make production more effective or to perform menial tasks seems great at the outset, I believe that people can sense how much more the world is beginning to rely on machines. Of course, there is only one direction to go from there: instead of blaming Mexicans for taking all the jobs, people will eventually be blaming robots. As far as I see it, the less that humans are needed in order to accomplish something, the lower their value and status become in the world, while those of robots rise. When we have been on top for so long, we don't want to imagine a society in which we have a superior.

I know that this doesn't address the reason that the valley inclines again, but I thought this aspect was really interesting. Now that I've kinda geeked out, please tell me what you guys think of my idea, what's wrong with it, or what your own ideas are!

The Sloppy Critique of Humanism

The single most common objection to Marxist theory that one hears in college courses (and one that I am fairly sure is the bane of Dr. J's existence) is that "well, that's all fine in theory, but we know it never works in practice." In other words, Marx is ultimately a failure as a thinker because states that have been ostensibly established on Marxist principles have all been failures. While I don't think that politically this reasoning is necessarily unsound in regard to revolutionary socialism, in intellectual terms it's silly to conflate the latter day practices of Communist regimes with the actual thought and writings of Marx.

To me, the argument that liberal humanism is a theoretical failure because some categories of people have not been or are not treated as fully human is formally equivalent to this facile objection to Marxism. It is true that the conception of the human in Enlightenment rationalist terms has led the rationalisation of ill-treatment of certain groups (such as women or blacks) on the supposed grounds that they comparativiely lack characteristics such as rationality that are part of the human ideal. Yet from this it is not at all clear that systems of oppression are a result of liberal discourse. It is certainly not clear that we should have been better off without that discourse, given that our objection to practices such as slavery or the subjugation of women was and is primarily expressed in liberal humanist terms.

In any case, one can and must make the distinction between the intellectual cogency of a theory (such as the liberal notion of the human) and its application. Otherwise one would have to reject the labor theory of value on the basis of Josef Stalin being nuts, or to reject post-humanist philosophy because cyborgs are scary. The Enlightenment project does not assert that humans are only rational, only atomistic, and only independent, but it emphasizes those things because it views these qualities as uniquely human. Perhaps this conceptually sound, or perhaps not. But the fact that 18th century European sailors (probably not the most reflective or philosophical lot) had no problem dealing in human flesh has little bearing on it. To the extent that historical narrative is relevant here, I would posit that the progressive inclusion of various categories of human beings as worthy of equal treatment as such is precisely a function of the triumph of the liberal world view in the political and social spheres. Nonetheless, this happy trend itself says nothing about the abstract merits of the traditional notion of the human. So don't take my word for it.

Going Back to an Existentialist Post-Humanism

I want to open this post by explicitly stating that I am aware there are deficiencies in my understanding of humanism and post-humanism, as well as modern philosophy. That being said, I hope that someone could expand upon the questions I raise here. I also want to point out that by post-humanism I mean the interpretation of it as a critique of liberal humanism.

There were two questions brought up in class concerning the nature of post-humanism and its connection to existentialist philosophy. These two – “can there be such a thing as existentialist post-humanism?” and then what such a philosophy might be composed of – while thought provoking during the expansion that took place within the lecture seem to be rely heavily upon the interpretation of those within the discussion – the specific dialogue being made.

The problem that I found to result from this was that the very nature of existentialism and that of post-humanism are neither entirely opposed nor able to be combined to create a new philosophical perspective. Rather, it seems that these philosophies -- separate from one another -- can be interpreted in light of one another. Existentialism can be interpreted with an understanding the justifies the basic components of post-humanism that were discussed in class (though the exact distinction between post- and regular humanism is not entirely clear and therefore all that can be affirmed is that Existentialism in intrinsically related to the human or human experience but not that it belongs in either camp specifically), or post-humanism can critique liberal humanism with justifications it finds in existentialist texts. For instance, existentialism can be interpreted knowing that the human, or other subject, possesses these qualities while maintaining a dependence to a sort of actuality – or the facticity – of its existence. Similarly, post-humanism can find justification in the, for the current lack of a better word, ambiguity of existentialist philosophy – freedom, essence, and the questioning of one’s own being not being inherent only to humans (though clearly the existentialist philosophers only knew of human beings processing the ability to be aware of their own death and deal with the angst that then caused).

Following this though, to attempt to combine both philosophies together into a new branding would cause major ideas within both to be disavowed in order to create continuity. Post-humanism, as it was discussed in class, transcends the “merely” human. As it does this more and more – even as a critique of liberal humanism – it denies death as being the main concern in human existence – contradictory to the whole of existentialism -- and the individualism that is inherent to humanism (though arguably present in much of existentialism as well – running the risk of oversimplification). Existentialism has a quality of thrust humanity, mortality, and an understanding of the experience of being human – as being that being which can question its existence and essence – which post-humanism attempts to move past.

This is not to say specific concepts, texts, etc. cannot coincide and work within both contexts, but I fail to see how these philosophies could ever congeal entirely.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Do you need a body? Posthumanism in Serial Experiments Lain

Is existentialism and posthumanism wrong? Is there a secret in having a body? Serial Experiments Lain is a cult cyberpunk classic from 1998 which explores these issues. The first episode begins with a high school girl committing suicide, claiming that she does not need a body. In a sense, death is a liberation from the mortal coil which restrains us. Later in the first episode, we discover that same girl continues to exist in the Wired (the internet in the show) and has emailed all her classmates to tell them that she has simply shed her body for a new existence.

The main character of the series is Lain, an introverted schoolgirl with no experience with computers. As the series progresses, Lain becomes more involved with computers until her room becomes crowded with cables, liquid carbon cooling systems, and monitors. One of the mysteries that drives Lain in the series is various people claiming to have seen an extrovert version of her in both the real world and in the Wired. We learn that this other Lain is not a copy or a fake but another real Lain despite the personality difference.

This is possible because Lain was never actually had a real body to begin with. She is actually made up of artificial ribosomes according to the series. The different Lains in the show are just a product of being both in the real world and in the Wired.

The God of the Wired is another character in SEL. He originally was a human who designed the protocol that unites devices of the world, thus creating the Wired. By inserting himself into the Wired with control of this protocol, he gains a kind of omnipotence.

Near the end, Lain and her friend Alice, the last human not to be connected to Lain through the Wired, confront this so-called God. The discussion of the need for a body is supposed to be an answer to the girl who commits suicide in the beginning. The God defends a posthumanism, while the girls advocate for a uniqueness of the body.


Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Humanism vs. Existentialism

We have talked about Heidegger's stance on Humanism and Existentialism; and later we discussed Sartre's idea as well. Jean Paul Sartre's existential philosophy is sort of summarized in the often repeated quote by philosopher Protagoras: “Man is the measure of all things; of things which are, that they are, and of things which are not, they are not.” Existentialism, ultimately, holds man responsible for his condition in the world, and places the weight of the world on the shoulders of man. Even Kierkegaard, who believes in the absolute, seems to hold the previous as true when he references that Abraham had a choice, and it was his complete faith that led him to follow God and his own decision.

The philosophy of humanism similarly declares that the value of man, and the value of life, is a committed search for moral values and truth by virtue of man for the virtue of man. Yet at times throughout Existentialism and Human Emotions, Sartre denies the assertion that existentialism is a form of humanism in the commonly perceived sense of the word, while continuing to push his assertion that deep in the roots of existentialist philosophy lies a true form of humanism that in fact holds man to be the measure of all things. But what exactly are the links between existentialism and humanism, and the differences between the two? Could it be suggested that at their foundation existentialism and humanism are essentially one and the same?

Sartre as we know says that Existenialism is a humanism; and Heidegger says it is not for the sake of his dasein definition. All of the philosophers we have read believe in total uniqueness of man, does that help to connect existentialism and humanism? What do you think?

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

The Uncanny in Animation

There is a spectrum of experiences in my consumer life of simulations which lead to the uncanny. There is a vocaloid concert which is too unhuman to contain the uncanny.  Regardless of what particular people may think of virtual concerts, a lot of people have a strong positive response to them, as testified by the live audience in this video. The voices are too obviously computerized to be in the valley in my opinion. The animation is not attempting at a human realism, rather staying at the anime-style level.

Next is the strangely real in anime, which garners a positive reaction. Actually, it is because it is strangely real that the experience has a positive affect. This is not to say that the uncanny valley is not real or diverges, but that there is something to be said for being really near the drop off point or stylishly uncanny. For instance, the show Angel Beats has a simulation of rock concert which is strangely real for something obviously animated.
Leaning into the valley, there is Tom Hanks in Polar Express (I didn't think it was all that creepy though.)


Finally, there is the newest technology:


My question that I derived from this representative continuum is about the relation of the uncanny to the most positive encounter with a simulation. There are two possibilities:
  1. The peak of positive affect is the last point of uncanny simulation.
  2. The peak contains just enough uncanny to be just right.
While I think 1 is how people normally think of the Uncanny valley, I feel that 2 is probably correct. To me, the uncanny is like a thrill, and like all thrills, too much produces an negative affect. Just like many people like the Angel Beats rock concert, some people like horror movies or bungie jumping. There is a certain excitement. 

Dexter and the Uncanny Valley

Here's the opening sequence to Dexter for those who don't watch it:


Sunday, November 6, 2011

Sartre Versus Merleau-Ponty

Sartre and Merleau-Ponty, even though did not completely disagree with one another, they had their differences. Even though Sartre's idea of freedom is simple in the sense that it does not emphasize experience, simplicity may be his downfall. Correct me if I am wrong, but Sartre would say that the way that we see the world and the way that we respond to it is based off our perception of the situation. To him, the way that we see the situation is easily manipulated/altered. Because of that, he does not see the need to emphasize experience. In any case, for him, experience is a marginal factor to freedom and choice (not saying that they are the same thing). For instance, a women presented with a home intruder at night has the option to be courageous or be scared. It is her choice. She can fight to stay alive or she can choose to give up. Her reaction is her freedom. She is not limited by her freedom, nor is her freedom limited by her experience. She is always free to make her own decision on how to react to her givens or her situation. This example is radical because Sartre's idea of freedom is radical. If you are still following me, then Sartre's idea of freedom is absolute and most likely view experience is marginal.
On the other hand, Merleau-Ponty on the other hand is not that radical. Even though it is not as radical, does not mean that his argument is better. Merleau Ponty does not believe that individuals are completely free (even though he might have overly interpreted Sartre). Merleau Ponty feels that individuals are limited in there choices by their environment and their reality. Here, facticity plays a bigger role. Better yet, our experiences play a bigger role. In the same example, Merleau-Ponty would see that the woman's decision may be based on what chances she may have to survive or if her environment is conducive to the challenge or her situation. Here, her experiences and knowledge plays a bigger role. Her choice is technically her "choice". Yes, she has to make a decision, but her decision is not based completely on her free-will, but also on her limitations. Thus, free-will is not absolute.

I understand both sides of the issue, but I would have to agree that Sartre made the better argument. Though Sartre is more radical, Merleau Ponty takes the responsibility of choices away from the individual, and places it more on the environment and the world. I do not know how Merleau-Ponty's interpretation is beneficial to the individual and the world. At least, I know with Sartre that responsibility and choices are assumed in the individual, and not on the environment. What do you think?

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Divided Reality

In our last few philosophers we read, each divides reality into two realities each with its own nuances. These categorical distinctions provide a narrative about human freedom. The acknowledgement of limits of freedom play a major role in Sartre and Merleau-Ponty but not so much in Camus. The recognition of human freedom plays a similar role in Sartre and Camus, but Merleau-Ponty argues for a different kind of recognition which depends equally on those limits.

In Sartre analysis of Bad Faith, he argues that the human reality is a combination of facticity and transcendence. Facticity is the realm in which we are not free, and transcendence is the realm in which we are. The nuances of this division helps Sartre construct a narrative of a subject who is bad faith about either their transcendence or facticity. This division futher reflects a phenomenology of freedom where the feeling of control of events and the realizing of possibilities of the future but cannot control or change the past. Sartre, for instance, implies that the past is part of facticity in his homosexual example of bad faith. I disagree with this phenomenology of freedom because I do not see possibility or freedom as part of human experience or reality, rather what has been mislabeled the experience is actually a false judgement. Humans experience the thoughts of alternatives, the criteria in which they pick from hypothetical, and the actions that result from that thinking, but they do not experience where their thoughts come from. This is an example of where absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. Our knowledge now from neuroscience reveals the material of mind to be the same as other things-in-themselves, which, according to Sartre, have mere facticity.

Camus divides reality into the human and that of the world. The human is that of revolt, freedom, and passion, and the world is mundane, determined, and indifferent. The consequences of this division is a narrative about suicide of two extremes. One is resignation to the indifference of the world, and the other is to remake the world as reflecting the human. The first leads to nihilism and suicide. The second leads to escapes into theism, secular ethics, and science all of which posit ultimate truths about the world. Both are forms of suicide because they mean the human must reject his or her own revolt, freedom, and passion. In other words, the human can only truly be alive if they maintain a revolt against the Absurd. Of course, my problem is the whole division between the human and its world. While I am sympathetic to the revolt which distinguishes the human from its world, I believe the human is not distinct from the world and merely part of an indifferent causal chain.

Merleau-Ponty divides the field of freedom into two forces. The out-going Sinngebung and the in-going adversity act to create the field. Merleau-Ponty narrative of the two forces comes from the belief that freedom requires a world in which a subjects act. This is in reaction to a misunderstanding of Sartre philosophy. Merleau-Ponty believes that Sartre's freedom requires only the subject and is abstracted from the real world. I most agree with Merleau-Ponty's freedom because I recognize as well that humans act in the world and whether you consider that acting free or not is irrelevant to the facts of human existence.

Friday, November 4, 2011

"Most" and "Best" Living

In class on Tuesday we discussed Camus’ Myth of Sisyphus, which tackles the question, “in a world devoid of god and values, why don’t we just commit suicide?.” Camus argues that both physical suicide and philosophical suicide provide as a means to “confessing that life is too much” (189). In class, we identified that both suicides rectify absurdity. The absurd man does not commit suicide, and instead constantly confronts the contradiction of the meaning of life.


On Tuesday, we discussed the possible meanings of “most” and “best” in Camus’ statement that “what counts is not the best living but the most living” (194). Dr. J said that she thinks more living means more days of life, which is what I agree with. I mentioned in class that I think that Camus’ statement that more living is better than best living seems to contradict the popular motto “live life to the fullest.” “Most living” seems to indicate the idea of avoiding the situations that would endanger maximizing your number of days, which challenges risk-taking situations encountered in the “full, best living.” What do you interpret “most living” and “best living” to mean?


In addition to the possible interpretations of Camus’ statement, we discussed the three consequences that result from the confrontation with the absurd: revolt, freedom, and passion. We brought up the point that these consequences seems to be anti-universal values. However, the consequences seem to contradict Camus’ statement that more living is better than best living. If “more living” constitutes living with revolt, freedom, and passion, then what is “best living”? In class, someone mentioned that these consequences of confronting absurdity seems to point towards a type of “best living” that we do currently, which would not follow the context of “more living” by my definition. I am struggling with what the difference is between “most” and “best.” Does Camus mean for the consequences to be contradictory with his statement that “most living” is better? Do you even think that such ideas are contradictory?


On another not, we looked at the myth of Sisyphus and mentioned that Sisyphus has encountered the absurd, realizes that there is not purpose to his existence, and yet continues to live. In order to live by Camus definition, there needs to be a constant revolt and awareness of one’s life and freedom (196). How is Sisyphus an absurd hero, and hence create his own values and own his fate if he is condemned to rolling a rock up a mountain for the rest of eternity? Also, how is Sisyphus "living his life to the fullest" after confronting the absurd?

The One True Philosophical Problem

Albert Camus states in The Myth of Sisyphus that the only pressing philosophical issue, the one that must be addressed before all else, is suicide. All other issues, such as “whether or not the world has three dimensions, whether the mind has nine or twelve categories” (188), need only be addressed after a philosopher can justify his or her choice to continue living. It is certainly a reasonable argument. If humans constantly have the option to continue living or to off themselves, why is it we tend to choose the former? Camus states that “killing yourself amounts to... confessing that life is too much for you or that you do not understand it” (189), and it also reveals a dissatisfaction with the “uselessness of suffering” (189).

Suicide in the face of a situation that is too much to bear is easy to understand. Financial woes, physical or emotional abuse, and periods of depression, while all temporary problems, tend to elicit a more permanent reaction. Life becomes too much. The portion I find more interesting is suicide in the face of a life that we do not understand. Camus suggests that previously the question was “whether or not life had to have meaning to be lived” (193). Why continue pushing the stone up the hill if it has no meaning? Why not just commit suicide and escape from the futility of the routine? Yet Camus continues, saying that life “will be lived all the better if it has no meaning” (193). To me, this means (and please correct me if I'm mistaken) that our existence is more meaningful when we assign our own significance to it. If there is no inherent meaning initially present, it allows for more potential. We have no gods to please, no deities to impress; the only happiness we have to answer for is our own, and we create meaning in our life accordingly.

Yet it is easy to disappear into habits and routines, to grow tired of the endless succession of days. Some even take their own life due to boredom (namely George Sanders, whose suicide note actually read Dear World, I am leaving because I am bored). But the more days we spend in this world, the more meaning we can put into our life, and the more living we accomplish. Even if life grows dull, we're told to continue onward. Camus sums up his argument by saying that “the point is to live” (196). The point is to go out, accumulate experiences, assign our own meaning, and live.

In Defense of Philosophical Suicide

After talking about Albert Camus and the philosophy of the absurd on Tuesday, I got to thinking about Camus’ critique of committing philosophical suicide. Camus spends a lot of time discussing what facing the absurd looks like and even gives us an example of the absurd hero: Sisyphus. What he does not do (at least in the short reading we did) is give an argument for why committing philosophical suicide is wrong. In fact, I would argue that when one encounters the absurd, it is actually the task of philosophy to try to interpret and understand. I recognize that the absurd qua absurd cannot be understood, but perhaps we can at least do the best we can.

Through philosophy, we can interrogate and question our world. We can elevate some parts of that world and subordinate others. We can learn to navigate and live in that world. Perhaps most importantly, we can communicate with others who both inhabit our world and encounter their world in a similar way that we do. When encountering these others, I can share parts of my world and the other can share parts of hers. Through language, we can come to a consensus (or at least a provisional contentious about certain aspects of this world.

It seems like the absurd man can’t do any of these things. He revolts, is passionate and free, but he cannot share anything about his life with anyone else. When the absurd man embraces the absurdity, he enters into a solipsistic world. He relinquishes all ground by which he can judge value because he rejects the possibility that value could exist. He cannot relate what he is doing or how he is feeling because he cannot connect with the other.

One consequence (perhaps unintended) of taking the absurd man’s position is a kind of extreme relativism. All values are essentially the same because the absurd man has no basis upon which to judge them. I can just as easily hold the belief A as I can not-A. In fact, the absurd man would have no objection to both A and not-A being true. He is not as lazy in his relativism as the lazy relativist, but there seem to be a lot of similarities between them.