Philosophy

Euthanasia As Hedonism

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Canticle for Leibowitz CoverThere’s a gripping scene near the end of one of my favorite books, Canticle for Leibowitz, where a priest tries to convince a mother not to kill herself and her daughter after they have received a probably lethal dose of radiation during an atomic war. The government has set up euthanasia festivals–looking for all the world like state fairs–where parents and their children can go to ride a carousel or a Ferris wheel before going to the final tent to end their lives. He begs and cajoles her not to go, but in the end is left to watch, powerless, as she takes her little girl’s hand and leads her toward the colorful tents, the delicious food, and the end of their lives.

Walter M. Miller, Jr (the author of Canticle), you will not be surprised to find out, was a Catholic. I am not a Catholic, but I have a deep love and admiration for the moral and intellectual courage of that tradition, and nowhere is that courage and sensitivity in starker display than in Catholic teachings about suffering and death. The Catholics understand, as so few in our modern age do, that suffering itself is not the measure of a life. They realize that, no matter how deceptively noble and sympathetic the arguments for euthanasia may be, in the end condoning suicide is indistinguishable from embracing shallow hedonism.

A heartbreaking news story brought this back to the forefront of my mind on Monday. Two brothers, aged 45, were killed by Belgian doctors at their request after finding out that they would go blind. The identical twins were born deaf, and they were unable to face the pain of never being able to see each other again. I have absolutely no condemnation for their decision, tragic as it might be, but I am deeply disappointed at the behavior of the doctors who ended their lives. 

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Mormon Eclecticism vs. Pop Art

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A Motley Vision has an interesting piece asking whether Mormon bands that “clean up” pop songs are expressing a genuine Mormon aesthetic or corrupting the artistic vision of the original artists. The prototypical example, of course, is Clean Flicks. Before being shut down due to law suits, Mormon families could purchase their very own censored editions of popular movies. I think the problem with that approach is that it treats the moral content of art as more or less equivalent to after-market car products: you can add on or take off what you like in discrete chunks. In reality, however, the “bad parts” of movies that Mormons might find objectionable are embedded into the narrative. So on that front, I think the effort to try and reclaim pop art can be essentially a lost cause.

On the other hand, there’s no denying the awesomeness of this song:

And that makes me wonder if another side to the issue is a kind of authentic Mormon eclecticism: taking  what we love and claiming it as our own. Spoiling the Egyptians, one might say. And as far as the artistic vision of the original creators: as long as you’re not claiming the work as your own or copying it wholesale than we’ve got a happy coincidence of Mormon  eclecticism and art-as-remix.

And that might be the real difference between the song above and Clean Flicks. Instead of trying to give you a sanitized version of the original, they’re taking what they like best and making their own art with it. Not only am I OK with that, I think it might even be something to be proud of.

Outraged Anonymous

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One of the chief responses I’ve gotten to my posts (mostly posted at Times & Seasons) about epistemic humility is that going around thinking that you could be wrong all the time saps your resolve. There are evils to be opposed, wrongs to be rights, and stances to be held and doing all this work requires conviction. If you spend all your time thinking about how you could be wrong, how are you going to have the gumption to go out and do what needs doing?

I’ve thought a lot about this, and about some grand unifying theorem of epistemic humility to cover all my bases, but if such a theorem exists I haven’t found it yet. Instead, I have a somewhat different suggestion. 

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Why I Listen to Screamo

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One of my favorite movies ever.

At this point in my life I really should know better than to play the music and  movies that I like for other people: I have a terrible track record. Starting with playing a Bloodhound Gang song for a girlfriend in high school (I still think Asleep at the Wheel is sort of catchy, but I’m deliberately not linking to it out of shame) and going up through playing Voices of a Distant Star for my parents a couple of years ago. At the conclusion my mother–my own mother–responded with “That was supposed to be good?” For the record: it is very, very good and I highly recommend it. See? I know better, but I still can’t stop.

In that vein, I wrote a long piece that I’m inordinately proud of called “Why I Listen to Screamo” and posted it at Times and Seasons last night. I had misgivings about posting it, but I thought that the piece was interesting even if you didn’t listen to the music. Then again, with several YouTube videos embedded of Thrice, Underoath, and Emery, folks probably will listen to the music. And if you haven’t listened to that kind of music before, it can sound a bit like sonic assault and battery. (The fact that I drew a direct parallel between “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” and “The Artist in the Ambulance” probably didn’t win me any new friends either!)

I know that, in a sense, I should stop. But I’m not sure if I really want to or not. Playing eclectic music and movies for people backfires more often than not, but I’m sort of hoping it’s like a high-risk / high-reward activity. Maybe the “hits” will be fewer, but the connections formed will be all the sweeter for it? Who knows, but if any of this has drawn your interest, go read my original piece and let me know (there) what you think.

Penny-Arcade on Faith

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So… I’m still having trouble picking my jaw up off the floor after coming across Extra Credit’s Religion in Games (part 2 of 2) over at Penny-Arcade TV. In response to the question, “Why aren’t there more examples of examining faith in video games”, they respond simply: “Because gamers are antagonistic to faith.” (I’m pararphrasing, these quotes aren’t word-for-word.)

As if that little nugget of honesty wasn’t enough, they followed it up with the bold claim that all science is faith-based. This is absolutely true, but I’m utterly shocked that a prominent voice in the gaming community would A – hold that opinion and B – have the temerity to state it publicly.

So, both as as a stunning departure from the party-line of secularism and as a pretty good explanation of reasonable faith in its own right, I commend this video to your eyeballs.

Second Piece for Times & Seasons: Faith is a Work in Progress

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My second post about epistemic humility is now up at Times & Seasons.

For the record, I’ll be posting therefore about 2 weeks (1 and a half remaining), and then my guest-blogging time will be over. There will be some new blog pieces here as well during that time, and of course after it, but volume will probably be a little lower than usual while I’m writing the pieces for Times & Seasons just because they are unusually complicated for me to write. I’m trying to pull together a lot of tangled threads that have grown without much order over the years and wrangle them into something coherent and structured. It’s tricky work (for me, at least).