Cylonic dreams of the eternal return

Wow. Well, I’ve got to hand it to the writers.  I heard rumors swirling for a while, but didn’t believe them.  Her? Nah, get real; what a lame choice.  But after watching the episode I now agree with the blogger at Galactica Variants: not only does the choice work, but it’s powerful.  And I think it’s only the beginning, since the LA Times reports that we should expect to see this character, somehow, some way, over the course of the final story arc.

In light of the revelation, I am further awe-filled by the sheer time scale in which Galactica as a story operates, especially the way in which it is conveyed so intimately, personalizing the effect.  There is truly something mysterious, terrifying, and enticing about the concept of eternal return, and the show manages to connect it to identity, history, and mortality in ways that never cease to evoke wonder and reflection.  Truly, this is more than masterful television: it’s nigh philosophy.

(If you feareth not the spectre of spoilers, click on the image above to see the big revelation, and “read more” for some more thoughts.)

To what extremes, O vegan? (part 3)

In part 1 I explored the historical backdrop to veganism in the West, in the case of the world’s premier vegan faith, Jainism.  In part 2 I explored some of the logical problems potentially inherent to the “necessary extremism” of veganism, particularly the idea of the absolute equality between the species.

In the epilogue of part 2 I promised to address the question of whether veganism, for all its logical conundrums, is nevertheless necessary in contemporary capitalist America.  Alas, I will be breaking the promise and belaying my answer until the next and final post, part 4.

The reason is because I feel there is another issue that needs to be addressed during the intermission: since vegans are by definition radicals, the riddle they face is not one of how far they desire to go, but how far they are willing to accomodate the rest of us.  I also wish to explore the larger philosophical implications of their economic endeavors.

Walmart, Black Friday, and the human condition

As you’ve all heard by now, this past Friday in Valley Stream, NY, a young temp worker was crushed to death by a stampede of customers.  There has been a lot of back-and-forth in the blogosphere about this,* and I would like to throw my two cents in from a philosophical historian’s view.

Many bloggers and readers are interpreting the tragedy as yet “more” evidence of humanity’s innate “sickness.”  For example, one Cynical-C reader remarked,

Cattle. They’re all fucking cattle.  Is saving $70 really worth getting up at 2am and standing in line for 3-4 hours so you MIGHT get what you want at a lower price?  Black Friday is such bullshit. If people would stop herding themselves into the stores on this day, stores would have no choice but to offer deals and remain competitive all season. Anyone that bought something in a brick-and-mortar store that day can eat my shit.

This kind of reaction is very reminiscent of the old Christian-Islamic/Han Fei-Confucius argument over whether human nature is fundamentally evil, flawed, or depraved (the Christian and Han Fei position), or fundamentally good, led wayward by ignorance and ingratitude (the Islamic and Confucian position).  I side with the latter.

Our species’ track record for depravity and atrocity notwithstanding, I actually don’t believe there’s anything fundamentally wrong with human beings.  We’re lost, confused, and scared, that’s all.  We don’t know why we’re here, where we’re going, or what’s to come of everything.

This crisis of consciousness, which has been with us since the first hominid realized one day he would die, is at the root of so many of our problems.  Simply, we all try to fill the hole with something, anything. Thus, while what happened in Valley Stream was consumerism run amuck, the truth about consumerism is that it is just one more opiate in a long list of opiates — and like any drug addiction, in the junky’s frenzy to lose himself in cheap salvation, innocents will inevitably be hurt.

Instead of lamenting, the tragedy in Valley Stream should be used as an opportunity for reflection, both upon ourselves and our society.  A traumatized shopper cried to a reporter after the incident, “I wish I was never here this morning!”  We must ask ourselves not only how we have gotten to the point where a man’s life is judged as less valuable than discounted (and sub-par manufactured) commercial products, but also envision an alternative self-image, one crafted of our better values, and ask: how do we work toward becoming such a person and society?

Why am I alive? (Re-post/Back-dated)

Two years before “Who can fathom the abyss?” there was this piece.  I no longer agree with the nihilistic narcissism of this essay, but I include it anyway because it’s historical, as well as one of the few moments before grad school where I was able to achieve succinctness.  — CS 12.06.2008