Thursday, May 8, 2008


Lust, Caution

I watched this film, directed by Ang Lee, last Friday night.  The hot sex, which earned it a NC-17 rating, was much anticipated.  But it was a long time coming. First we had to get through dry and mechanical sex between our heroine, Wang Jiazhi and a fellow resistance fighter. Then we had to endure Jiazhi's rape at the hand's of Mr. Yee, the Japanese collaborator whom she and the resistance had targeted to assassinate.  Only after all that -- and many games of Mahjong -- did we finally get to the hot sex.  And hot it was.  Undeterred by the rape, Jiazhi went at it with Mr. Yee in subsequent liaisons, all lust and no caution. One wondered if they'd ever tire.  One speculated that something besides sex was driving them. One came to understand that their physical connection was more real than any other facet of their lives, though Jiazhi remained loyal to her cause and Mr. Yee deeply distrusted her.  

In a penultimate scene, Jiazhi confessed to a resistance leader -- with candor that should have been heeded -- that every time she and Mr. Yee met for another sex assignation, they carried on until she bled.  He used his body like a snake, she said. He would work his way into her soul.  But it was she who was charged with that task. Would she be able to accomplish it before he did?  Who would win?  

Ultimately, they both lost.  Mr. Yee gave Jiazhi a card and told her to drop by a certain shop to speak directly with the man whose name was on the card.  "If he gives you something, take it," he said. It all sounded rather ominous.  It appeared that Mr. Yee was testing Jiazhi, by enlisting her services as a runner for the collaborators. But instead, when Jiazhi presented Mr. Yee's card at the shop, she was taken into a private room and asked to choose which stone and which setting she would prefer for the ring Mr. Yee wished her to have.  Astonished at this turn of events -- and recognizing that he was softening -- she made her selection.  She then promptly advised the resistance that she could at last identify a time and place to complete the assassination:  when she returned to the shop with Mr. Yee to collect the ring.  

At the appointed time, with resistance agents in place at every corner and in every surrounding vestibule, Mr. Yee and Jiazhi entered the shop.  When the jeweler presented the ring to her, Jiazhi was stunned by its beauty.  She asked Mr. Yee if he approved her selection.  Mr. Yee responded that he cared nothing for the ring, but only wished to see it on her.  He then gently slid the ring on her finger.  They locked eyes, and she said, very softly, "Go now."  Almost like an afterthought.  He was puzzled. She repeated, "Go now." His face changed as he apprehended her meaning, and he fled.

That evening, Mr. Yee signed Jiazhi's death warrant, and she and her fellow resistance agents were shot in the back of the head while kneeling at the edge of a quarry.  Mr. Yee did not bother to interrogate her, and when the ring that he'd bought her was returned to him, he denied that it was his.  Yet he returned to the room where she had stayed at his home, and his desolation was palpable as he contemplated the emptiness that lay before him. 

Jiazhi may well have regretted her "go now" in those moments before the bullet ended her consciousness.  But should she have?  Wasn't she right to be guided by the immediacy of her connection with Mr. Yee when he finally bared himself to her, without defense?  Isn't there something inhuman and immoral in a person who can elevate loyalty to a cause -- however justified -- above that? Yet had she done so, she would have saved her own life, the lives of her fellow fighters, and the lives of countless Chinese people resisting the brutal occupation of their country by Japan. 

I nevertheless tend to think that hers was the more moral choice. 

Friday, April 25, 2008

Is god Great?

Christopher Hitchens has concluded that god is not great; that indeed, we must free ourselves of all priestcraft if we are ever to realize our potential for self-sufficient virtue. Human decency, Hitchens asserts, “does not derive from religion. It precedes it.” Socrates appears to have urged a similar conclusion when he challenged Euthyphro to define piety. Euthyphro suggested that right actions are actions that are approved of by the gods. Socrates's response: is virtue loved by the gods because it is virtuous, or is it virtuous because it is loved by the gods? If the latter, then righteousness is entirely arbitrary, dependent on the whim of the gods, and reference must therefore be made to some other source to guide one's course. If the former, and the gods' love right actions only because they are right, then there must be a non-divine source of righteousness.

I am not particularly interested in whether god exists (having already come to a conclusion on that point -- subject, of course, to evidence to the contrary). But I am interested in whether he (or she or it or they -- for simplicity and familiarity, let's say he) inspires righteousness. If god is -- as one blogger has described Barack Obama -- "a noble lie that tricks us into self-improvement," then perhaps he is great.

But do we need god to be tricked into self-improvement? Does the aspiration to human decency and righteousness derive from god, or does god simply embody (for believers) those aspirations that pre-exist god? I believe the answer is the latter. And if it is the former, I nevertheless reject that answer because I cannot believe in an arbitrary code of moral conduct that references nothing but god's approval. Especially when god appears to have approved -- and even demanded -- so many contemptible things.

Or, for those of us motivated more by fear than hope, perhaps god is great because only he can trick us into self-improvement by the threat of everlasting damnation. (And for those who believe in god this way, there is the added bonus that one can take solace in contemplating the damnation of all those smug infidels who will surely get theirs in the end.)

But if god motivates primarily through fear, then when we discover he does not exist we are suddenly free to rape, pillage, and steal our neighbors' porn -- at last!! This would not be great. Yet I suspect that it is why the god-fearing sort, and other god apologists, are so concerned that god's existence be "proven" as a matter of faith: If one were to lose one's faith, all hell would instantly break loose.

It may also be the reason that athiests are so distrusted. According to a 1999 Gallup poll, 50% of Americans would not vote for an athiest candidate solely on that basis. More by far than would not vote for a woman, or for a black person. More than would not vote for a transsexual. After Barack Obama's Reverend Wright apology speech, Sam Harris noted: "Obama's candidacy is [ ] depressing, for it demonstrates that even a person of the greatest candor and eloquence must still claim to believe the unbelievable in order to have a political career in this country. We may be ready for the audacity of hope. Will we ever be ready for the audacity of reason?"

I am an athiest because I do not believe in god. But then neither do the 1.1 million individuals in this country who identify themselves as Buddhists. Nor do many of the 600,000 individuals in this country who identify themselves as Unitarians. Luckily, I am not a politician. But if I were more prudent, I might identify myself as something else, like Buddhist, or Unitarian, or even "humanist" so long as it somehow smacked of religion. This would be more likely to assure people that at least I was trying -- misguided as I might be. And maybe someday I will identify myself as one of these, or all of these, or none of the above.

Ultimately, however, whether one identifies as atheist or not, I do not consider believing in god to be a choice. If I could believe, I likely would. I expect there is much comfort to be found in "knowing" that there is an omnipotent being who sees all, has a plan for you, responds to your petitions, and keeps your loved ones preserved and ready for reunion after death. And I would take Pascal's wager, if I could.

But I cannot. If I am wrong and god turns out to exist after all, then I suppose I will be damned for all time. But I will still ask god: Did you want me to profess belief that I did not have? Would it have been better for me to pretend faith? Is there no value in the truth? I suppose god would say "No," and down I'd go.

See, that's why I cannot believe in him.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

The Pursuit of Happiness

It appears that the votes went against Socrates.  Collective wisdom has concluded that the unexamined life is indeed worth living.  At least from the perspective of the being living it, if not from Socrates'.  (I had no idea he was such a manipulative, self-serving, and arrogant bastard.)  There appears to be some controversy, however, as to whether the examined life is a happier life -- or conversely, whether examination itself is the cause of all misery.  


Still searching for the answers to life's persistent questions, and risking my own happiness, I am propelled to examination no. 2:  


Blaise Pascal posited:  "All men seek happiness. There are no exceptions. However different the means they may employ, they all strive towards this goal.... The will never takes the least step except to that end. This is the motive of every act of every man...."  A random scripture (I refuse to identify the source) proclaims:  "Men are, that they might have joy."

Are the above sentiments correct:  Is happiness the end all and be all of existence?   


Or, is the pursuit of happiness merely one of two or more other unalienable rights with which we have been endowed (by the Creator, or whomever)?  


Or, is the pursuit of happiness and the avoidance of pain itself the source of suffering, as the historical Buddha concluded?


Or is the answer none of the above?


If the answer is choice number 1, then if a person attains a subjective feeling of well-being, has the goal been reached, game over?  Or does it require a subjective feeling of well-being that lasts for some pre-ordained period of time?  If so, how long?  Does a 45-year euphoria induced by a lobotomy qualify?  If it lasts one's entire life on this earth, is that good enough, or do you have to be happy in the hereafter as well?  Is "happiness" really a code word for something else?  If a no-account, loathsome and immoral human being is happy, by his or her own report, has that individual hit the bullseye?  


If the answer is choice number 2 -- the pursuit of happiness is just one of many unalienable rights -- is it waivable?  Or are we stuck with it, whether we want it or not?  Can we trade it in for something we deem more valuable?


If the answer is choice number 3, then shouldn't Buddha and Jefferson engage in a sumo contest to see who wins?


What is the goal (or non-goal) anyway?

Friday, April 4, 2008

The Unexamined Life

Socrates concluded that the unexamined life was not worth living.  I discovered today that I can expect to live 95 years.  (To determine your own personal life expectancy, see www.livingto100.com.)  Without giving away my age, let me just say that leaves me about half a century.  Therefore, because time is pressing, and because it would be a shame to get to the end only to find out that Socrates was right, I figure I better start examining.  

Examination number 1:  Is the unexamined life in fact not worth living?  Or is it simply less meaningful that it might have been?  

Or was Socrates spot off.  Perhaps it's preferable not to examine.  Maybe we should just be?

Would anyone but Socrates really choose actual death over a little harmless vegetation? 

What about plants and animals?  Do they examine?  If they don't, is their life less worth living?

Is examination only important if you're a philosopher?  Or does it transcend your particular field?  If you're a poet, is the unrhymed life not worth living?  Or if you're a lawyer (god forbid), is the unlitigated life not worth living?

What makes life worth living anyway?