Do Androids Dream of Electric Religion?

Our discussion in class about the differences between "natural," "organic," "wilderness", and the struggle in finding a definition to something so widely used but little understood reminded me of a similar conversation I had earlier in the week about humanity, religion and video games.

Phillip K. Dick wrote his book, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? around the question of what makes a human a human? He explores this idea in a variety of ways, but one side story to the main plot is a focus on a religion called "Mercerism," which is a virtual religion people "tune into" with a visor and gloves to participate in the story of Mercer. The story, as I remember it, goes along the lines of Mercer forever walking up a hill being tortured by other humans and the terrain, which the people tuning in can physically feel. People want to feel this pain, and in a sense, are connected and experience communion with one another through this virtual reality and shared strife.

With the other person, I brought up the idea that perhaps religion today could be explored through video games in this way, and then the talk turned to artificial intelligence. The other person was staunch in the fact that a man-made object could never be a human, and I, remembering one of the main takeaways of the plot of Androids being that we, as humans, imbue the meaning of "life" onto things, thought the other. I asked him, in a much less polished fashion of course, this question:

Imagine someone has been with you your entire life. He is your closest friend, and you have seen him laugh, cry, think logically and illogically, love, have beliefs, doubt, struggle, and display every other manner of human emotion. When you become an adult, you are told by your family that this person is an android, a robot who has been programmed to do the things he has done and to look as human as possible. At what point does this friend cease to be human?

His response was that a robot/android could never chemically reproduce the brain operations of life, and can only do a series of if/then statements that would never be subtle enough to replicate human thought. It was an interesting conversation, but I thought that some other questions had to be answered first, namely:

1) What defines a human, and what defines an android? 

2) Is it the new awareness of the friend the actual point where the switch from human to android takes place? 

3) Can computer programming have the same effect on both the thing performing it and to an observer watching this programming taking place as the human brain does for both? 

4) Is the difference between a human and an android actually meaningful? 

5) If the difference is meaningful, then is the assumption of humanity enough to make something human? 

6) Is a human’s relationship to something artificial significant enough to transform it into something human? (Good old Phillip K. Dick here)

7) Can a human cease to be human in the first place?

8) For the android and the human, is there any “ceasing” of humanity that can even be done?

I don't know the answers, and I expect that if they were fully explored, it would take pages and pages to do so fully. I just thought it was interesting that our discussion about definitions, humanity, naturalness and the like fit so perfectly into a question that I find fascinating and interesting. 

I have weird conversations, looking back on it....

Black Jesus and Adult Swim

I love the show Black Jesus.

It's on Adult Swim, and it's on its second season. Not to sound too hipster, but I've been watching this show since it first aired. I'm OG.

Praise it.

On Adult Swim

The premise of the show is that Jesus has come back. He's black, and he lives in Compton with a group of his followers who rent an apartment from Eddie Murphy's brother. They get into crazy adventures, but everything works out in the end because, hey, he's Jesus.

It's a great show. 

It's funny, yes, but there's also an element of our class in the show. In fact, I'd say that our entire class's theme could be represented by this show. 

This is a show that uses the traditional image of Jesus, specifically the Protestant representation of him, but thrusts him into a completely modern society. He lives in modern day Compton in L.A., and the struggles he has with his apostles are real issues: They face racism, poverty, drugs (Jesus loves weed), gangs and (of course) religiously philosophical issues, but everything is wrapped up, quite literally, in "What Would Jesus Do?" 

Here's an example:

There's an episode wherein Jesus gets a vision from "Pops" (God) that he has to wash the feet of the homeless. He tackles the local homeless man, washes his feet, and the homeless man (Lloyd) loves it so much he's willing to pay for it to have it again. Jesus and his followers need money, so the rich woman in town tricks him into running a portable foot-massage business from a food truck called, "Hands of God" to service the girls from her yoga class. 

Another show is about setting up a Mission Impossible style heist of a church, where a corrupt preacher is literally taking the money out of his parishioners' pockets. Jesus and his crew conspire to get the ill-gotten goods away from the man who is taking this money "In Jesus's name." Jesus puts down his plan, and when one of his followers points out that it's wrong to rob a church and "What about all that Christian stuff?" Jesus promptly replies with "Man, fuck that." 

These stories are brilliant in their translations to modern society. Jesus flipped the tables of the money lenders in the church... Why WOULDN'T he want to steal the money from a corrupt preacher? Jesus washes the feet of the less fortunate, why wouldn't his modern crew try to make a business out of that, especially with the whole "natural health/guru" craze in society? 

Yes, it's funny to think about Jesus in this strange setting and to hear him bust out joints and cuss, but the show is a wonderful and unique exploration in HOW religion is used today, and particularly how it relates to a minority culture in the modern age. It's surprisingly Christian and respectful of the religion in its message, and I think that's a tough and admirable stance to take on a nationally televised channel with a reputation for iconoclastic TV. 

All in all, I'm stoked for more Black Jesus. 

Praise it. 

Such is life in Russia...

During our discussion in class about how covertly some of our culture in America "puts down" Soviet/Russian society, I was reminded about a particular type of Creepypasta story called "Russian Spoofs," or, as I've sometimes seen, "Such is life in Russia."

Creepypastas are short stories that are designed to unnerve or shock the reader, and they are the modern day equivalent of campfire stories that are told on the internet. In many ways, they are a reflection of current societal fears and worries that manifest themselves on message boards or Reddit forums, and while some of them are fairly cringe-worthy, a few of them succeed in delivering a little shock. These "Russian Spoofs" take this shock factor and, using stereotypes and language, transmit those shocks into jokes that reinforce the preconceived notions of what our idea of Russia must be to those in America.

My point is that this "covert" attitude in American culture that was supposed to have ended during the Cold War is still alive today. Here are some examples of the spoofs, and if one is familiar with the original stories being spoofed some of them are quite funny, but all of them contribute to the American attitude that we discussed, one that is full of religious influences, capitalism and "democracy" over all.

Here is one that uses the "Bloody Mary" folk legend:

Legend is being going like this.

You are entering bathroom and standing in front of mirror. Turning candles off and, while being in front of mirror, spinning rapidly, you chanting "Leon Trotsky" "Leon Trotsky" "Leon Trotsky" "Leon Trotsky", several times, while catching glimpses of self on mirror. It is said that eventually you be seeing image of Leon Trotsky on mirror.

Upon exiting bathroom you are being arrested by KGB for believing in existence of Leon Trotsky, whom party has proven never existed.

Here is another one that references the story of a grave digger who hears a bell, goes to investigate, and finds out that the person who is ringing the bell has been dead for months after the tombstone's death date. This is its spoof:

In Russia, coffin has pipe for air, and bell with string. If man is true Soviet, he does not die. When buried, yells for undertaker and rings bell. Bell rings. Is no wind.

Undertaker asks - "Are you lady Gorbochev?"

Voice says "Da!"

"Born winter of 1927?"

"Da!"

"Gravestone says 'Died 20 February, 1957"

"Niet, am still living!"

"Am sorry, but is August. In June, ground will thaw. You must wait for June."

And woman is true Soviet, waits for June.

There are many many more, but the theme that comes from all of them is this idea that Russian/Soviet culture is radically different than American culture; in them, individuality is suppressed, censorship is par for the course, technology is woefully inferior to America's, and the love for the government is unquestionable. Through the use of language and humor, the writers of these stories continue the grand American tradition of subverting and misinterpreting culture, attitudes and ideals, which is a practice that, in regard to Russia, has continued uninterrupted since the beginning of the Cold War.

Anyway, if one is so interested, here is the site where most of these are collected. Read at own risk: 

http://russianpastafortherussians.wikia.com/wiki/Creepypasta/Russia_spoofs

Religion and Identity

While I might be in danger of sounding like a broken record, I wanted to take a little bit more time in understanding what is meant by people when they say they do or don't affiliate/identify with a religion.

Check out this Pew article about the 10 facts about religion:

 http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2015/08/27/10-facts-about-religion-in-america/

Specifically, take a look at the opening paragraph about how the rates of the "unaffiliated with a religion" have grown from 16% in 2007 to 23% in 2014. 

This is more than 1/5 of those surveyed, and due to its numbers, I think this question is a valid one to ask: If one chooses to not affiliate with a religion, do they still have a religious identity? Broadly speaking, if we define having a "religious identity" as something everyone must have, then yes, their "religious identity" would be that they don't have one. But is that accurate? As I quoted William Lee Miller in my last SSRP, many Americans seem to be "very fervent believers in a very vague religion,"  and even if one doesn't identify with a philosophy, are they still part of a collective "vague" American religion? Are they truly outsiders?

From thepastfoundation.org

Henry David Hwang, in his play Chinglish has one of his characters say that "Love is the American religion," and I think there's something there that can connect to Miller's assertion above. While 23% of those in that Pew poll don't affiliate with a religion, it would be interesting to see if the cultural ideals of America could be translated as a collective and "vague" religion since love, the American Dream, and the Puritan Work Ethic seem to be cultural touchstones that drive almost religious-esque devotional behavior in people. The definition of a religion is slippery and probably impossible to truly define, but one popular idea is that it is a philosophy that has some sort of supernatural-like authority. If the American Dream of working hard to attain wealth, power and social mobility relies on some sort of authority, then yes, it is a religion; if love is something to search for and something we, as Americans, are by right (an authority) are destined to have, then yes, it's a religion under these terms. Under this set of circumstances, "religiously unaffiliated" people might be affiliated with some sort of infusion of the collective American religious ideals that permeate the culture.

On the other hand, is affiliating with nothing in particular completely divorced from its concept? If I have a choice between a burrito and a sandwich, and I choose neither, have I made a choice that truly is not connected to that realm of selection? I would argue that yes, choosing nothing is a valid choice, and those who are religiously unaffiliated are not exclusively non-religious. They just, when choosing between a burrito or a sandwich, didn't choose either; that's not the same as not eating... Perhaps they chose a doughnut instead, or something else that wasn't listed in those choices, or maybe they just weren't hungry and didn't eat anything.

From begum9.com

I have known many people who proudly identify as an atheist or an agnostic. In their stance against religion, they have chosen to identify themselves as something they are not, which is not an uncommon practice, but one that seems to be a special thread running throughout the history of religion and philosophy. 

Finally, to end this strangely circular and rambling post, let's go back to the Big Lebowski. As Walter is shouting to the self-identified Nihilists who want money, the Nihilists are disappointed and complain that they don't get their fair share. Walter than yells to them, "You don't think that's fair? Who's the real Nihilists now?" 

Anyway, some food for thought... or doughnuts... or whatever you choose... or don't choose... whatever you do... or don't... 

Ugh, philosophy. 

Method Acting and the Buddhist Master Tradition

A little personal history before we begin:

I graduated high school in 2008. I didn't really quite know what I wanted to do, but my counsellor at the school told me to "not bother" applying to colleges because I didn't have the math requirement and didn't "seem like I had the aptitude for it (the classes) anyway." Needless to say, being 18 and having no idea what to do was/is an unenviable position, so I went to the JC with no plan and took classes that sounded interesting. I had acted a bit before in my life, and when I was 20 I took an acting class at the JC because, hey, it sounded fun.

I fell in love with acting. I loved it so much that I even decided to leave school (I had to do my math general education courses soon anyway) and move to San Francisco to start an acting career. The school I enrolled in was a two-year studio that trained its students in a style of acting called "The Meisner Technique," and it was a hard-core school: Be prepared, don't come late, know your stuff, verbal and emotional abuse was expected from the teachers daily, and the "most important person in the world is your scene partner"... basically, it was a boot camp for those who wanted to act professionally.

For various reasons, after four years of living that lifestyle, I decided to leave it and return to school. I'm sure that I'll talk more about this studio and the methods, leaders and other semi-cultish stuff that went into it, but right now I want to look at an interesting similarity between modern acting studios and the "legitimacy" of following a traditional Buddhist master's pupils.

Modern acting, as we are familiar with it in the West, was first developed in Russia. Anton Chekov, the playwright, was writing new plays that demanded a completely different style of acting that was not only realistic but emotionally truthful to the moment, and an actor named Stanislavsky rose to the challenge. He developed a completely new and systematic method of training the actor for these types of plays, and he called it The System. People loved this style of acting, and so in the 1930s, his Moscow Theatre Company came to New York City to teach a new crop of young actors this new System at a playhouse called the Group Theater.

Stanislavsky was the Buddha of modern acting. His disciples were those who differed on the exact teachings of The System, and from the Group Theater we get the famous teachers of Lee Strasberg, Stella Adler and Sanford Meisner (almost, and this is no exaggeration, every American actor can trace his or her training to one of these three people).

As stated before, Adler, Strasberg and Meisner had differences on what Stanislavsky meant (and I can truly go on and on about these differences), but what is important is that each had their very specific interpretation, followers, exercises and students.

My teacher was taught by Sanford Meisner himself, and was endorsed by him to teach the method. He would often say that he is "one branch removed from the source," and because of that, he was teaching a "purer" system than others who didn't have this dispensation from the "master." Our exercises were completely different than those who followed in the vein of Stella Adler or Lee Strasberg, and the appropriate apostolic succession seems to lend a credibility to these teachings that, in a field like philosophy and its application, can be difficult to achieve.

No teachings are truly written down for these acting studios. Yes, you can get a book called "The Meisner Technique," but it's not truly what we did in classes. Nothing is really written down because many of the exercises had an air of secrecy around them. We had different groups corresponding to different levels of acting, and we were told to never tell the people below us what our exercises or lessons were. There was a level of spirituality in the studio that seemed to almost wobble into the esoteric, especially when people like me, worked up in a "preparation" to the point of being completely out of my mind and ready to kill, would begin a scene... Being so fully present within a moment locked into another human's struggles is difficult to explain without being too "poetic," but much of what Buddhism discusses about mediation finds interesting parallels in Method Acting (perhaps a future paper topic?)

In comparing this experience to the Buddhist teachings we read earlier, I was surprised by the level of dependence to the purity of the "master's" teachings that are found within the Zen Buddhism and Tibetan Buddhism traditions, mainly because I had lived four years of my life in that style of reverence for someone who, for all intents and purposes, was deified and whom I never would've, nor would ever, have met; his words were sacrosanct, infallible. This handing down of philosophy by people who are "endorsed" is an interesting riddle for me, because how can a teaching or a philosophy truly remain "pure" forever? Lifestyles change, the world changes, people gain knowledge, and so I understand that in order to preserve the tradition only certain gatekeepers are allowed to pass it, but is not Zen Buddhism in America an example of a series of people taking their philosophies and unofficially sharing them? Whenever I teach a friend, a co-worker or even a class "how to act," even though I was never truly crowned a "Meisner Trained Actor," you can bet I'm using Meisner-like techniques. So, whether they like it or not, that philosophy is out of the bag and being consumed and transformed within the society.

Oh, and long story short, I don't really act anymore. Again, I'll probably explain why in future posts. But it's quite the interesting story...