Gwen Cooper, I maybe no longer dislike you

Okay. I've never liked Gwen. The latest episode of Miracle Day may have changed that. GO GWEN!

KABOOM!

Damn straight! *fist pump*

Movie: Water

Usually, movie talk would go on the other blog. But this isn't so much about fangirling as it is having seen an incredible and disturbing film.

I caught this one almost by accident. We have Cinemax free for the weekend (they're promoting a new show or something) so I look through the guide and dvr any movies that I want to see. It was while I was doing that that the title 'Water' caught my eye. Somewhere in the past, I'd read about this movie. It's part of a trilogy of sorts - Fire, Earth, and Water. I remember thinking, when I read about those three movies that I'd never get to see them because they're not the kind of thing that would be played on local or cable channels. When I realized what I was seeing, I dvr'd it quickly and looked for the other two. Sadly, they're not being played.

This movie...like I said. It's disturbing, especially when you keep in mind that while this particular story is fictional, it is based on reality.

Without spoiling, the basic premise is this:

The movie is set in 1938 India, when the country was still under British rule. Mahatma Ghandi was just becoming, well, Ghandi. Chuyia is an eight year old girl who has just recently been married to a much older man. Who then proceeds to die, leaving Chuyia an 8 year old widow. She is packed off to an ashram, where she is expected to live out the rest of her life, theoretically in prayer and contemplation, so that she can come back in her next life in a better situation.

The lives of the widows are not pretty. I really don't want to say too much because I think this is a movie that needs to be seen, if at all possible. Chuyia believes and clings to the belief for a very long time that any day her mother will come and take her home. The other women, who are all older than she is of course, indulge her a little. Some of them anyway. Others, most of all the 'head' widow, are cruel. Just because that's the way people are, and these women are in a terrible situation. There's no industry that they work at to provide funds for food or anything else. They *beg* for money for their survival.

Well, beg and the other 'industry'. The head widow pimps out the youngest, prettiest widow (and yes, that bodes about as well for Chuyia as you think it does) to supplement her income. There's tragic love and pain and general crapiness of life, mixed in with hope and yet more suffering. It's a brilliant movie and I could honestly go on abut it forever, but I'm trying not to give away the plot.

If you get the chance, watch this movie. Watch all of them!

'Some Objections'

The chapters are short so far. The second chapter is about objections that Lewis received to his theory of the Law of Human Nature.

He ended the first chapter by saying that the foundation of 'all clear thinking about ourselves and the universe we live in' are two facts. One, 'that human beings, all over the earth, have this curious idea that they ought to behave in a certain way, and cannot really get rid of it.' Two, 'that they do not in fact behave that way.' People all know the Law of Human Nature, but they ignore it and go against it when they choose to. He views this second chapter at firming up his claim.

Lewis says that he received letters asking him, 'Isn't what you call the Moral Law simply our herd instinct and hasn't it been developed just like all our other instincts?' He doesn't argue that humans have this herd, or community instinct to take care of the collective group to ensure the survival of the species, but he says that this is different from the Law of Human Nature.

Lewis says that, in any given situation, a person will have two instincts. For example, you hear someone calling out for help. One instinct will tell you to go to their aid. The other will tell you to avoid the danger to preserve yourself. What he calls the Law of Human Nature, this absolute Right, is the thing that tells you, even when the desire for self preservation is stronger, that you *should* go and try to help. *That* is the instinct for Right that everyone has within them and it cannot be the same thing as the 'preserve the community' instinct because how could it encourage you to strengthen itself?

I don't know that I agree. This argument doesn't seem to take into account the cultural conditioning that goes into the creation of morality. We have the two instincts, both of which serve in some way to preserve the community. One by trying to save another member of it, the other by preserving yourself, as a member of the community as well. Those are natural. It's the third thing, what he calls the Law of Human Nature that is morality. We are *taught* that the 'right' thing to do is to try and save the other person. And *that* is where the strengthening of one instinct over the other comes from. Not an absolute, cosmic Right, but the morals of the culture that we are raised in.

For instance, in our culture, if we saw someone beating his wife, we know that the right thing to do is to stop them. Whether that involves doing something ourselves or calling the police, we know that it is *wrong*. Why? Because that's the culture we've been raised in. Go back fifty years or so and a man 'disciplining' his family was not a 'problem'. It was a private matter. The morals have changed. They've changed for the better, don't get me wrong, but they have changed.

Lewis' argument in this chapter seems to boil down to the idea that if there is no absolute Right, then there's no point in arguing that one group is more moral or less moral than any other. And...that's actually kind of right. It is impossible to judge a group's morality in a vacuum. But we compare that other morality not to some absolute Right, but to *our* morality and judge them from that. Even if you say, oh, but we judge ourselves based on Biblical standards of morality.

Fine. But those were created in a specific time, place and culture as well. Some of them remain useful. Some not so much.

And just to really win my affection, he ends with this:

"I have met people who exaggerate the differences, because they have not distinguished between differences of morality and differences of belief about facts. For example, one man said to me, 'Three hundred years ago people in England were putting witches to death. Was that what you call the Rule of Human Nature or Right Conduct?' But surely the reason we do not execute witches now is that we do not believe there are such things. If we did - if we really thought that there were people going about who had sold themselves to the devil and received supernatural powers to kill their neighbors or drive them mad or bring bad weather - surely we would all agree that if anyone deserved the death penalty, then these filthy quislings did? There is no difference of moral principle here: the difference is simply about matter of fact. It may be a great advance in knowledge not to believe in witches: there is no moral advance in not executing them when you do no think they are there."

So, for all those people out there, *coughyouknowwhoyouarecough* who believe that there really are women out there making deals with devils for powers, it's okay for you to kill them. Because that's the moral thing to do. But only if you *really believe*. *blink*

But don't our advances in understanding the world around us also create advances in morality? I think they do.

'The Law of Nature'

I'm doing this from memory rather than having the book in front of me, so it's going to be a little short of quotes. Sorry!

The first chapter of Mere Christianity is called 'THE LAW OF HUMAN NATURE' and it deals with the idea that there is a natural sense of Right and Wrong that everyone, everywhere for all time knows. Lewis' argument is based, partially, on arguments between people. For example, he uses the 'possession' of a chair. If one person is sitting there, gets up and then comes back to find it occupied by someone else, they may say 'That was *my* seat. I was sitting there first.' and the person now sitting in the chair will argue that there was no one in the chair when they got there and no indication it was taken, etc. indicating, by the nature of their argument that there is a *right* to the chair that belongs to the person who was sitting there 'first'. It's a mutually understood concept between the two parties, even if it's unstated because if they didn't both understand and agree that the right of the first person existed, then the argument would be different. It would be an argument that didn't try to justify the 'taking' of the chair by the second party because there would be no understanding of the ownership, however temporary of the chair by the first party.

There's a mutual understanding of a shared standard of behavior that people will try to make excuses for why they fail to uphold, but they will very rarely flat out deny the existence or validity of this standard.

Lewis says that there are plenty of natural laws that humans are subject to. We don't have a choice about gravity, for example. If we jump off of a diving board, we'll fall (hopefully into a pool full of water!). Even planes, which seem to defy gravity are just working within the natural laws that define it. It's a loophole, but the laws are still there and we've got to work with them. The Law of Nature that Lewis is speaking of is really the 'Law of Human Nature' - the one law, he says, that humans can choose to obey or disobey. It's the idea that there is a basic Right and a basic Wrong and everyone knows it. They may choose to ignore or go against it, but they *know* that they are doing so whether they acknowledge this fact or not.

He brings up the Nazis (not a strange thing since these radio talks were given during WWII) and how if there was no universal Right and Wrong, no Law of Human Nature, then there was no sense in telling the enemy (the Nazis) that they were wrong. "What was the sense in saying the enemy were in the wrong unless Right is a real thing which the Nazis at bottom knew as well as we did and ought to have practised? If they had had no notion of what we mean by right, then, though we might still have had to fight the, we could no more have blamed them for that than for the colour of their hair."

He goes on to state that there are some people who do not believe in the Law of Human Nature because different civilizations have had different sets of moralities throughout the ages. Lewis says that this is not so. That while there have been differences in moralities, these basically amounted to no difference at all. He says that if someone were to take the trouble to compare the Babylonians, the Egyptians, Hindu, Chinese, Greeks and Romans that they would find how very similar they are to one another (morality wise) and how similar they are to modern (at his time) morality.

Is that really true, do you think? He doesn't go into detail, apparently he did that in another book called The Abolition of Man. But I'm thinking about cases in ancient cultures where human sacrifice was a matter of course. They didn't view it as immoral. However, there were other ancient cultures that did. And we certainly do now. Or how about in the Old Testament where a man, if he raped a virgin, married her. This was by Jewish law. How horrible is it to modern senses of morality to think of a woman, raped by a total stranger and then told by the law, by the entity that is supposed to help protect her that she has to marry him and live with him for the rest of their lives? Or what defined 'moral' sexual behavior? Business practices?

I know that I've said that there are certain core moral absolutes, the largest of which is murder. But each society and time has their own definitions of what constitutes these moral absolutes. And the devil is in the details in that case. The view of that morality makes a very big difference in how it is applied and that's the thing we have to live with. Not some grandiose vision of perfect morality, but how it is lived out in the trenches, as it were.

I think Lewis is vastly oversimplifying the differences in morality between cultures and societies. I've only read the first chapter, so I could be wrong, but that's how I'm looking at it. Reading that section really threw me because it's just so wrong from where I'm standing.

Delayed Thought/Question About the Local Mosque and the Women There

I know, I know. You all thought we were done with this topic. You heard about it a million times while I was wittering and being a nutter, and I said I was done, so why am I talking about it again? I know. Sorry? :)

I dreamt about my visit to the local mosque last night. Nothing weird or freaky, just a replay basically. But it reminded me of something that I thought was strange but forgot to mention when I was originally talking about the visit.

So I was in the women's section, which is a room side by side with the men's section. It's separated by sliding glass doors and the lights are kept turned off so that it turns the doors on the men's side into mirrors, basically. There was a speaker so we could hear the imam and we could see him as well if we turned our heads to the side. From what I hear of other mosques, all and all not the worst set up ever. The room seemed clean and it was cool enough, no broken a/c or stained carpets that I saw.

It was weirder than I thought it would be, being separated but it wasn't an awful little space is what I'm saying. There was plenty of room for the number of women that were there. All of which bears on my question/observation.

When it came time to pray, only one of the women did so. You could look over and see the men praying, the movements everyone is familiar with for salat. But only one of the women did the same. The others all just sat there, quietly. I assume that they were praying without making the movements. Oh! I stand corrected. One of the older women who sat was making the motions with her hands. And I believe, as I recall, that it is allowed to make changes to the prescribed movements allowing for illness, infirmity and the like. And some of the women it was clear that that was likely the case, as in the woman who was obviously making the motions that she could. But what about the young ones? Like I was saying, the space wasn't anything fancy, but it seemed to be perfectly adequate space wise and it wasn't *dirty*, so why would the women, seemingly collectively, not pray in what I understand as the correct fashion? Is there some facet of Islamic practice that I'm forgetting? Or is it maybe because women aren't required to attend jumah?

The Hall of JusticeChristianity

I've started reading Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. One of those books that everyone says to read and I've had on my shelf for forever. But it's time has finally come! The Fates have decreed that it is the title I pulled from the Bag of Non-Fiction!

I've just finished the preface, which is Lewis explaining his intentions for the book (which actually began life as radio broadcasts, something I did not know!) and why he left some things out (because he didn't feel qualified to speak on them). I found the last few paragraphs of the preface very interesting.

"I hope no reader will suppose that 'mere' Christianity is here put forward as an alternative to the creeds of the existing communions - as if a man could adopt it in preference to Congregationalism or Greek Orthodoxy or anything else. It is more like a hall out of which doors open into several rooms. If I can bring anyone into that hall I shall have done what I attempted. But it is in the rooms, not in the hall, that there are fires and chairs and meals. The hall is a place to wait in, a place from which to try the various doors, not a place to live in. For that purpose the worst of the rooms (whichever that may be) is, I think, preferable. It is true that some people may find they have to wait in the hall for a considerable time, while others do not know why there is this difference, but I am sure God keeps no one waiting unless He sees that it is good for him to wait. When you do get to your room you will find that the long wait has done you some kind of good which you would not have had otherwise. But you must regard it as waiting, not as camping. You must keep on praying for light; and, of course, even in the hall, you must begin trying to obey the rules which are common to the whole house. And above all you must be asking which door is the true one; not which pleases you best by its paint and panelling. In plain language, the question should never be: 'Do I like that kind of service?' but 'Are these doctrines true: Is holiness here? Does my conscience move me toward this? Is my reluctance to known at this door due to my pride, or my mere taste, or my personal dislike of this particular door-keeper?'


"When you have reached your own room, be kind to those who have chosen different doors and to those who are still in the hall. If they are wrong they need your prayers all the more; and if they are your enemies, then you are under orders to pray for them. That is one of the rules common to the whole house."

Movie: Rise of the Planet of the Apes

I'm not sure I have words to express how much I loved this movie.

Now, I've never been a huge *fan* of the first movie. I mean, I've seen it, I enjoyed it. Chuck Heston chewing the scenery and all. It's a classic and I watch it whenever it's on. But it was never one of those movies that caught fire in my brain or anything. Originally, when the previews for Rise came out, I was pretty 'meh' about it. 'Oh, James Franco, pretty!' and that was pretty much it. But the more and more previews I saw, I got excited about it. It looked good, regardless of whether or not I was a fangirl over the first one.

And we're not even going to *talk* about the *spit*remake they made back in '01. I just rewatched that because I'm a masochist and ugh. Oh, Mark Wahlberg, why? WHY?

Back to the movie. I thought the effects were well done. The apes were beautiful and Andy Serkis is much loved around these parts, let me tell you. I felt so *sorry* for the apes. They did a fabulous job with their expressions and making them, even when they weren't 'intelligent' look so sympathetic. The story line made sense and I caught several references back to the original movie. Some subtle, some not so much. The bonus surprise! Tom Felton and David Hewlett were great too.

It was fun and exciting and heartbreaking and actually not that far fetched. The genius ape thing, yes. Far fetched. But the experimenting that led to the apes? And the consequences for humanity? Yes. The drive and the strain between the one man who is in it to make money and the one who is just trying to save his father was very human, very real.

And the- right, this is probably a spoiler. So you are warned, just in case!



We all know that the apes talk in the original movie, right? Right? I knew that, eventually, the apes would learn to talk. But I wasn't expecting it when it happened. That first shouted "NO!" from Caesar literally made the entire theater go dead freaking silent. I have never had that happen before. Never. There was no movement, nothing. I'm half sure that people stopped breathing.

I want more.

I also admit to wanting Caesar to go back, grab Will (his human dad/creator) and take him to live with the apes so he'll be relatively safe from all the crap that's about to go down.