312; Class; Video; Thesis

This is a video which is being posted for English 312. It is in response to an assignment where each student must post a video and a thesis with that video.


Secular humanists preach that humanity has morally improved over its existence, yet humans are flawed. Humanity's basic, yet morally corrupt instinct to kill still thrives. From the Communist Manifesto to 1984, violence and power even dominates literature. Due to its portrayal of the negative aspects of the human condition, that humanity eventually result to violence to solve its problems, the five minutes which best capture that condition occur when Wyatt Earp, Virgil Earp, Morgan Earp, and Doc Holiday, face off against outlaws at the O.K. Corral in Tombstone.

312 Response Paper; My Country, A Dystopia

This is an essay that I wrote for an English class. Constructive comments are welcome.

All rights are reserved. No publishing, reproducing, altering, or distributing any portion of this without the author's permission.

My Country, 'tis of who?

The United States of America was founded on the principles of equality and liberty. These principals have guided this country into a period in history where gender and racial prejudices have disintegrated to the point where anyone from any race or gender can become leader of this country. However, despite these advances, this country has not achieved its goal of a "more perfect union," rather it shows signs that it is becoming less perfect every day. Due to the erosion of individual liberties, an increase a dramatic increase in surveillance, and an ever –widening disparity between two classes, the United States of America is devolving from a nation of freedom into a nation of fear, threatening to tear apart the country socially and economically; The United States' of America isn't becoming a dystopia, it is a dystopia.

Like a dystopic novel, the United States' increase in surveillance puts fear into the hearts of its people. For example, in novel 1984, the government of Oceania uses the pervasive television screen to spy on people. This is no different from the modern day security officer, overlooking the constant influx of surveillance footage and reporting anything suspicious. In fact, this is Jeremy Bentham's Panopticon personified (Foucalt "Panopticism"). However, unlike the Panopticon, the modern day surveillance system is ripe for abuse. Whereas Foucalt's panopticism describes a perfect system where everyone, including the jailer, is under surveillance, those in charge of modern day surveillance are left to their own discretion. Oversight is done through visits, not through constant viewing of actions. As such, the utopia envisioned by Foucalt where the jailers are equal to the imprisoned is never realized. Instead, the United States' continues that path toward a dystopia by giving power to some and none to others. The citizen and his or her liberties are at the mercy of the police system.

Similar to a dystopia, American citizens have in the last eight years lost several liberties, specifically, the right to a public trial by jury. Similar to 1984, where the government can detain and torture a citizen of Oceania, the United States' government can now knock on a citizen's door and detain that citizen for an indefinite amount of time, all under the guise of the citizen being a possible "terrorist." This is done, allegedly, to protect the people of the United States', fulfilling that important part of the Constitution's Preamble which charges the government with insuring "domestic tranquility" and "providing for the common defense." There is no doubt that the government must protect its citizens, but the line between the terrorist and the advocate is too blurred to allow this to be the definition that permits a violation of the constitutional right to a public trial by a jury.

Some might argue that the United States' is simply doing what is necessary to protect the country until the threat of terrorism has passed. These people would argue that the powers granted to the government are temporary, and are a necessary means to achieve a necessary end, the safety of the citizens it is charged with protecting. However, there is no indicator that the government will ever abdicate their new powers. Instead, it embraces them and does so without apology. This causes one to pause, and wonder, is power the goal of the government?

This goal of power is dystopic for several reasons. For example, in
the movie 1984, there is a scene where the main character Winston is being tortured by the character O'Brian. O'Brian tells Winston that real power is to make someone believe that two equals five. Similarly, the goal of the American government appears to be the gaining of power to make its citizens into worker bees and robots who go about their daily life, working and buying. Similar to Marx's Communist Manifesto (though this author is no supporter of communism), the United States' government seems to care less for its peoples' happiness (unless their unhappiness undermines the governments own power), but is more concerned with keeping its citizens on the train of consumerism, stopping at every shopping center and convenience store to spend their hard earned wages. This dystopic vision is the opposite of a utopia, where class systems have been abolished, but is more similar to the concept that citizens are a means of production, both the production of capital and of goods. Similar to Altusser's scheme of production and reproduction in his essay, "Ideology and Ideological State Apparatus's," the United States' requires the production and reproduction of their citizen's consumer action.

This goes hand-in-hand with the government's desire to keep peace through surveillance because, in order to assure frequent consumer spending (as opposed to theft of goods), more surveillance must be employed. More surveillance equals more power to the state. The state then uses that power to keep its citizens under control. If a citizen is abnormal in his or her behavior, the government technically has the right to detain the citizen. Hence, it can be seen here that the government and spending are united. Also, a result of this symbiotic relationship, anyone who goes against this system becomes part of a separate class of citizen, even in the eyes of other citizens. For example, just as the outer party is separate from the inner party in 1984, so also are frequent, traditional consumers and property owners separated from those who are not. One only needs to look at the disparity between the homeless and home owners to see the difference. The homeless citizen is more often the victim of discrimination by the police apparatus, whereas a clean-cut citizen in a suit is looked upon with admiration. Despite this visual disparity and the alleged class distinctions, the police apparatus can be no more assured that the suited citizen is anymore or any less a danger to the local citizenry than the homeless. The dystopic vision of America continues. Similarly, the suited citizen is often wary of the homeless citizen because of the homeless citizen's appearance, that is, the quality of his clothes are less and his rituals for cleanliness are different (but perceived as less). Besides the obvious class distinctions, there is an even deeper dystopic relation between the homeless citizen, the suited citizen, and the American government.

The United States' of America fails to make use of the homeless person's productive and reproductive potential. For example, the homeless person, at best, is given a little aid and is often ignored by the government and its well-off citizens. This leaves the homeless citizenry, a major source of production, out of the labor force. One might argue that this is because the capitalist environment does not necessitate the homeless citizen's employment and would only cause an overproduction in goods. However, this neglects the homeless citizen's ability to become a productive citizen in his or her own right; the homeless citizen, once he or she has obtained enough capital, becomes a consumer. Unfortunately, this solution only highlights America's dystopic problems with class distinctions.

Despite their apparent love and ability to customize, Americans live in a dystopic society. Similar to both the novel and the movie 1984, citizens are under almost constant surveillance and fear a departure from the norm. These fears have been realized through the arrest and detaining of several citizen outside of constitutional boundaries. Also, American citizens are broken up into two classes, the haves and the have-nots, those with property and those without. Citizens then become the means of production and reproduction of consumer activity. As a result, equality and liberty have become bywords, slogans for first the government, second, the home owners and frequent consumers, and third, those who hope to become home owners and frequent consumers.

Works Cited

1984. Dir. Michael Radford. Perfs: John Hurt, Richard Burton.Atlantic Releasing

Corporation. 1984

Altusser, Louise. "Ideology and the Ideological State Apparatuses." 1970.

Foucalt, Michael. Discipline and Punish. The Birth of the Prison. "Panopticism." 195-

228. 2^nd ed. New York: New York. Vintage Books. 1995.

Marx, Karl. The Communist Manifesto. W.W. Norton & Company, Inc. 1988.

Orwell, George. 1984. New York: New York. New American Library. 1961.

The United States Constitution.

http://www.law.cornell.edu/constitution/constitution.preamble.html

All rights are reserved. No publishing, reproducing, altering, or distributing any portion of this without the author's permission.

E312: Fahrenheit 451 Group Contribution

For our Fahrenheit 451 group I contributed several elements to our presentation, much of it behind the scenes.

First, I facilitated a group meeting where we set the first set of deadlines. Second, I later sset out specific deadlines for the group to meet including when to read the book, select the article, and watch the movie.

Third, I set up a group message board using Proboards.com so that the group might have more fluid, consistent communication. On the message boards, I made several posts regarding possible articles for the group discussion as well as several points of interest in the book.

Fourth, as the rest of the group, I formulated several questions to present to the class in order that the discussion might remain natural and flowing. Those questions included:

1. What are some examples of separate classes in this society?
2. How does Beaty try to manipulate the main character?
3. What value do the citizens of Fahrenheit 451 place on knowledge?

Finally, during the actual presentation, I facilitated the discussion by attempting to draw in the rear, often unspoken part of the class, as well as help the group transition from theme to theme.

As for what I have learned as part of the group: I learned that the symbolism is the book is more prominent that previously thought e.g. the Phoenix. Also, I learned that there are several themes present in the novel. The first is that happiness, a main theme in Fahrenheit 451, also proves to be the main focus for its citizens. Second, that knowledge is harmful to that happiness.

Untitled poem

Unexpected, not rejected,
Out of the corner of my eye,
Emotions recollected,
Surprise, not demise,
Bold and apparent,
That God heard my cry.

Pickin' up the beat.

Fast, swift, all of a sudden,
Think, much'n not sleeping much and
In a good way, stopped, but moving,
Doing
Hollar'in and Hoo'in,
New plans are screwin', that is workin'n holdin',
In a good way
Hopefully to stay.

Slowin' down the beat.

Slow down the beat.
Or Pick it up
It doesn't matter
With all that wonderful laughter
And the other line and a heart a pitter-patter.
It's all more than alright. More than alright.
And in sight. The Light and the light.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Dancing with Ghosts; Rough Draft

This is a short story that I wrote for an English class. It is still in the draft phase. Constructive comments are welcome.

All rights are reserved. No publishing, reproducing, altering, or distributing any portion of this without the author's permission.

 

 

Dancing with Ghosts

 

His name was George Green and his daughter was a ghost, or so she kept telling him. "Daddy! Look at me! I'm flying!" said Katrina.

She was dressed in a white, semi-transparent robe and wore her white leotard underneath. The robe was her mother's.

    Cute, 8-year-olds are so cute, thought George.

    "Yes honey. I see that. And a beautiful ghost you are!" said George.

It was a year ago today, and Katrina's lively personality spoke volumes of the half that was her mom. Things were never the same since her mother Tina, his wife, died. He was just now coming to grips with that night. After all, it was all his fault. It was going to just be him at the play.

That night, they had all gone to see Faustus at the Geoffrey Theater. Tina argued that at 7, Katrina was too young to see such a gruesome tale. A man being torn apart by devils was too much for a child.

"She probably won't even understand it," Tina said.

George argued back.

"It is important for our daughter to be cultured. I want her to get a real education. The garbage that public schools are spewing out these hardly even counts as teaching," said George.

"Well, not everyone can go to a private, preppy school like you did George," said Tina.

"That is exactly my point Tina. Faustus is a classic, a wonderful play that will teach our young Katrina what good entertainment is all about, not like this anime crap," said George.

"Fine George. She'll probably be scared out of her wits and won't go to bed for days, but if this is what you want then she can go, but I'm coming too."

They got in the car and went to the play. It was a beautiful production. Perfect lighting. Wonderful acting. The final act of the evening was a tragedy.

While on their way home, some Coca-Cola truck driver dropped a cassette tape onto the passenger floor. One grab, one swerve, wrong lane, one life gone.

Oh how he missed Tina!

"Daddy! Were you even watching me?!"

George snapped back from his thoughts. Katrina stood in front of him, her brown eyes cross squinted in anger.

"Wha-, Wha' was that honey? Do it again. Sorry, daddy was distracted."

"I was trying to show you how I was dancing with mommy. See?" She smiled and her feet moved.

He looked at her. She held her left hand high. Her feet moved forward, then backward. One, two,three. One,two,three. One,two,three. The white robe flew through the air and Katrina was a blur. It looked so natural. He wondered how his daughter had dealt with Tina's death so remarkably.

The first few weeks were difficult. Lots of crying. A body in the grave and no one but dad was home. Just dad. Then, one morning, Katrina was all smiles. She told him how she had a dream the night before that mommy was in heaven, but sometimes God allowed her to visit Katrina.

Dreams, kids live on dreams, he thought at the time. Now he knew it. Katrina was alive but he was still dead. Katrina was dancing and he was standing still.

His daughter looked over at him, all smiles and twirls, and then came to a sudden halt.

"Daddy. Why are you crying?"

George quickly rubbed his wet eyes with his right hand, but the tears wouldn't stop flowing. George sank to his feet for the thousandth time in a year. He promised himself he would never let Katrina see him like this, but he couldn't take it anymore. Sometimes, the right combination of scenes and sights opens up the heart. He could only cry.

The smile on Katrina's face disappeared. She ran over to her father, her barefoot feet pitter-pattering on the wood floor. She put her arms around him.

"Daddy, are you crying because of mommy?"

Mommy. More tears.

"But daddy, mommy is right here!" said Katrina, pointing to the empty space on her right.

Katrina and her wild imagination. Reality check! But her couldn't tell her that. She was too happy.

"Daddy. Come on. Just try to dance with her and you'll see. Mommy isn't dead!"

He almost blew up at her, at this beautiful 8-year-old daughter of his, but her brown eyes stopped him. They looked just like hers. He decided to take his daughter's advice.

    He wiped the final tears from his eyes and stood up. He looked down at his daughter. She was smiling again. He held his left arm high, then did his best to bring his right arm in a curve behind the imaginary character.

    "No daddy, you're doing it wrong. Bring the right hand a little higher. Didn't they teach you anything at your school?" said Katrina.

    He did as she said, then Katrina began to clap the beat. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.

    George tired of this exercise, but Katrina was enjoying it.

    "Lose yourself in the music daddy. Look into mom's eyes."

    He imagined those eyes, right in front of him, her pink-lipped smile curved with joy. And there she was. He was dancing with his Tina.

    He heard laughter and looked over his shoulder at his daughter.

    "Daddy, you're smiling!"

 

All rights are reserved. No publishing, reproducing, altering, or distributing any portion of this without the author's permission.

I See You:Rough Draft

This is a short story that I wrote for an English class. It is still in the draft phase (isn't everything?). Constructive comments are welcome.

All rights are reserved. No publishing, reproducing, altering, or distributing any portion of this without the author's permission.

He wanted to go to sleep. Pushing 7 A.M. he had just finished a long night already and now some other bozo-on-the-run was going to keep him up. Not that he wasn't glad perform his duty. He loved performing his duty.

Black monitors filled every inch of the white wall space in the room. Each monitor showed a live, first person feed from each Op Sec team member. They were in their usual attire: black pants, navy-blue trench coat. Both hid body armor underneath. An armored helmet hid their faces. He envied them, but they weren't his job; the center monitor was. Satellite Imaging.

"Move in with Satcom 4, David. Nice and easy.," said Thomas, the operations leader. He was big, burly, black man with a bald head. What he lacked in hair he more than made up with in brains; the guy was a genius. In this room it was just Thomas and David.

The perfect pair of Governmentals, thought David.

Outside, it was dry and sunny, the perfect day to go looking for free-speech pond scum. David pressed a few buttons on the computer, and the tiny black dot on the center monitor grew into a human face. The disease up-close-and personal, just like he liked it.

Live from Capital City, thought David. You're on Candid Camera. I see you Bozo.

David watched the man on the monitor. I see youThey always looked like that, didn't they? All the makings of their kind. Bold, feeling entitled. Any moment now, he would be surrounded by a dozen navy-blue, coat wearing, badge brandishing officers from Op Sec. Then, bang. He had it coming.

As a child, David had learned two important things: there were two kinds of people, the good guys and the bad guys. This guy was definitely a bad guy. He saw the news reports.

"Five minutes until intercept boys and girls, just hold tight. Gotta bring 'im nice and quiet. We don't want this one to go kablooey," said Thomas.

David smiled. He knew that with Thomas in charge, there was no way of this op going bad. The smell of strawberry Pop Tarts brought back a memory of the previous ops leader. He was a softy who allowed the enemy to get away. Even when he caught them, he still only arrested them. Arrest? Who does that anymore? The man was a rusty cog. About this time last year the Navy-Coats got him too.. David was glad when they removed that old gear and brought in Thomas. Thomas was a man who would do the right thing.

The Constitution was clear, swift justice was important, thought David. A speedy trial by a jury of your peers, right out there on the street where they catch 'em.

"Alright David, I want you to start the recording now. They're going to need this for the news tonight. A nice little clip to let the people know that we're serving them," said Thomas.

David's thin fingers tapped the buttons marked RECORD and ENTER. A red light flashed on.

He suspected that tonight's broadcast was going to draw a record number of viewers. This was their leader after all. He couldn't wait to get home and watch it himself. David was still smiling. Thanks God he was a part of it all.

God, a funny expression, best to be careful with that thought.

As for God, David thought the idea of him was repulsive. So many senseless deaths in the name of God. Bombings. Murders. Good thing the government stepped in and put a stop to that business. He loved the government.

Five years from now, I'll probably be running the show, thought David. Why not? I've been faithful.

"Two minutes to intercept. Check your gear. Remember, make it clean and fast. No ugly scene." said Thomas into his headset.

The headset wrapped around Thomas's head like a crown, thought David. Someday, I will wear that crown.

On the monitors, David watched the Op Sec team members pull clips out of their guns before shoving them back in.

Something didn't look right about the ammunition, thought David.

David looked at his center monitor. Yup, the Bozo was still clueless. He was about to meet up with a plain clothes officer, someone who had been undercover in the Liberty underground for three years. This was David's favorite part, the part where the bad guy got nailed. A bullet in the head. Yum. David licked his lips. He loved his job. Sleep? What was he thinking?

The man on the center monitor shook hands with the officer.

Here it comes, thought David.

"One minute to intercept. Move the vans," said Thomas.

It was like a wonderful opera. Each member had a part to play in the capture of this Liberty leader. Oboes and clarinets, trumpets and trombones. Drivers and gunners, David and Thomas.

David watched the monitors as several vans, some black, some white, moved in from directions opposite the man on the center monitor.

One word.

"Go," said Thomas.

A flurry of activity. The man was on the ground, hands tied to his legs.

He looked like a helpless baby, thought David.

Several of the officers removed their helmets and read the man his rights. Then, ten of the officers moved to the man's left. One stood directly in front of the man. The final at the rear.

It was a trial. This was how they did things. It was so much more efficient than the old days. No more clogged prisons taking taxpayer money, no more corruption in the justice system. 10 officers were the jury, 1 the judge, one the baliff and executioner. No more scummy lawyers. The accused was left to their own defense. This wouldn't take long.

David watched the center monitor. The man was shouting something about rights and life or some nonsense. The judge looked at the jury. Zero. Not guilty. Ten hands went up. Guilty.

The executioner brought up a pistol in front of the man's head.

"Cut the feed now," said Thomas, but David was too mesmerized by the sight. He loved this part.

"David, I said cut the feed now."

Thomas walked over and depressed the RECORD button, but never made it to the ESCAPE key. The center monitor showed it all.

David kept waiting for the gun to fire, but it never fired. Instead, the Op Sec team member holstered his sidearm, untied the man, and helped him to his feet.

For the first time, David spoke to Thomas.

"Thomas, what just happened? Why wasn't that man executed. He was supposed to be executed," said David.

Thomas looked at David. David's eyes were wide, like a confused child.

"The man is being set free because he stands for something much more than you or I. He stands for what this country used to be before it lost its way."

"Lost its way? But, Thomas, the country is wonderful!" said David.

"It was, and it will be again someday. I'm sorry you had to see that," said Thomas.

David looked back at the monitor. The man was gone. The Op Sec team was gone. David glanced at the other monitors. White snow. Their cameras had been disconnected. When had that happened?

David looked back at Thomas holding a black gun. Bang.

All rights are reserved. No publishing, reproducing, altering, or distributing any portion of this without the author's permission.

Response to a webCT post on clockwork orange

The following is a response for a class. It is a discussion strucutred around the film, Clockwork Orange:

>I know that sounds a bit crazy>but if the police and society in general did everything they could and>actually prevented gang activity, what purpose would they serve?

First, what purpose would police serve if they weren't striving to maintain order and eliminate chaos? A police force which stops at only doing things halfway because they are afraid of job security is a pointless police force. Also, if the police force did actually eliminate crime and chaos, that doesn't mean that the newly attained status wouldn't need to be maintained. No, the police would still have a job, at least until people are morally perfect and all life goes like clockwork (no pun intended). As for the movie doing a better job at rehabilitating criminals today, really? The character in the film is no more rehabbed than when he went in. He still dreams of psychotic deaths. Heck, the man identifies with the roman who beat Christ because he likes the idea of death and torture! No, the film's prison system is as much a disaster as our own.

Previous Post: X [name redacted]writes:>Watching Clockwork Orange today in class made me think about the world>in which the story takes place. It's obviously set in England and some>may say that the world is unidentifiable with our own. "Our society is>not like that, it's not THAT crazy". But it is. Let me first address>what's going on in the movie. The film seems to draw a fine line>between the total chaos we see at the beginning of the film where Alex>and his comrades ravage the town and do what they want and in the latter>part of the film we see complete order and institutionalization (which>you'll see later in the film). It almost seems as though the society>portrayed in the film intends for the gangs to act the way they do. >They serve a purpose (the gangs) and create a purpose for the>authorities, which is to uphold order. I know that sounds a bit crazy>but if the police and society in general did everything they could and>actually prevented gang activity, what purpose would they serve? That's>where contemporary society comes into play. How many times have we>heard about gang related activity on the news and how the authorities>know who the gang is, where they hang out, what they're business is, and>then nothing is done until after all the blood is spilled. Sometimes>it's subtle and sometimes it's blatantly obvious that they want us to>kill each other just so they can pick up the pieces and say they're>"heros". Where the film differs from real life however is they're>attempt to rehabilitate Alex. Today's prison system fails miserably to>even attempt to rehabilitate our convicted felons. We either keep them>in jail or promptly send them back out onto the street to keep the cycle>going. It's organized chaos.

We Are Watching You -Starbucks

The following is an ethnography and analysis of a local Starbucks. It was done in response to a homework assignment. The location of the Starbucks was omitted for my own reasons.

We Are Watching You, Signed Starbucks

The following observations were made at the Starbucks on [redacted] and

[redacted]. With regard to the clerks: their uniforms were nearly identical in color and

style. Each clerk wore a black hat with a Starbucks logo, a black, collared shirt, and a

green apron. Females usually wore their hair in pony-tales while the males had short,

shaved hair. Above and behind the cash registers were black security globes which have

hide in themselves security cameras. The cash registers themselves record each

transaction. Customers line up single file in front of the register to purchase their choice

item of consumption then proceed to an area to pick up various condiments. The clerks

appear to make several errors in making the drinks, making the drink "on the house."

They charge the customer and make the drinks in a robotic fashion, delivering standard

lines to customers such as, "Hi, what can we get you today?"

In Starbucks, the clerks represent the lower (but not lowest) class in a

dystopian society. First, they are under constant observation by the black security globes

(not just for the customers, one can assume that the globes also watch the clerks to

make sure that nothing is stolen). Second, as previously stated, each transaction is

recorded on the register, making sure that it balances out at the end of the day. These

two surveillance measures are similar to the Bentham's Panopticon, that because they

are under constant surveillance, the clerks will (presumably) both perform within

expectations (maybe even exceed them to gain a reward) and act honestly (for fear of

the possibility of being caught in an illicit or illegal act). Foucault would love this as it is a

fulfillment of his writing, that the Panopticon has expanded its aims beyond the

punishment of prisons into daily life. Third, the clerks conform in their appearance both in

the clothing and the hairstyles that they wear. This trait is common in dystopic novels,

certainly 1984, where the outer-party members must wear blue jump suits. Fourth, they

perform their tasks with robotic (though imperfect) efficiency: Take the order, blend the

drink, and call out the name of the customer. The same is with the labor section in

dystopic literature where efficiency for the party/government (in this case the Starbucks

corporation) is key. Lastly, they make the drinks for the customers and give the drink

away for free if an error is made. The customers that come into Starbucks represent the

typical dystopic superior (the Inner party in 1984, the gorillas in Planet of the Apes, and

the high government officials in movies like Equilibrium). They get to wear different

clothing, act in an independent manner, and are served by the lower, inferior class (the

Starbucks' employees).

Eugenics Could Result in the Lessening of Humanity

The following was taken from a bulletin board comment on Eugenics. My response has been updated since then, most of the differences were the correction of typos. The name of the poster has been deleted to protect their identity.

>For once i am the first to write something here. *sinister laugh*. i was wanting to put

out

>the question about Modern Eugenics. i am certainly not agreeing that what was done in

>the past with eugenics was the right thing to do or that it was in any way founded on

>scientific concrete, but i am very curious to know what other people think of making an

>improvement on the gene pool of humans. for instance, first thing that will have to be

>done is doing away with known genetic diseases that could be passed down to a non

>effected offspring but could still be prevalent in the next generation. this is a very

>realistic thing to accomplish and it would make a whole lot of people happier since they

>are not effected by the disease and that their guardians do not need to have special

>care for them. if we can thin out (humanely of course) the herd through selecting

>healthier attributes or traits of people then over time more and more people will have

>better healthier lives and not be burned with diseases that they have no control over.

>What does any one else think about the creating of a healthier society by naturally

>selecting healthier traits. i know everyone is going to say Hitler tried that, but we wont

try

>killing millions of people but rather have the best of their genome be expressed

I see several problems with utilizing eugenics, especially with the utilitarian way proposed

here. Disease is horrible. No doubt. But how do we avoid becoming the type of society

portrayed in the movie Gattaca? Following this path would lead to two different

classes of people: the genetically augmented/grown and the naturally born. I realize that

this is a slippery slope, but what would keep conflict between the two classes from

erupting in a sort of war?

Second, and this is going to probably going to start a few fires, but aren't there good

things that are gained from death, disease, and pain? Technologically, the amount we

have discovered today is due to research in the past. Solving once and for all those

problems would stifle innovation. Also, certain problem solving skills come

about from dealing with disease. One could say that we are utilizing those problem

solving skills through eugenics, but aren't we also in the end stifling their evolution?

Third, coping skills come through dealing with these problems. By taking a shortcut

through the use of eugenics, we will be eliminating an important stage in their

development.

Fourth, random occurrences also help develop those coping mechanisms. If we eliminate

random occurrence from our development, we become nothing but a predictable machine,

albeit flesh and bone instead of wires. Somehow, this seems to degrade our humanity,

and in this case, the end of disease does not justify the means we use to get there.

That brings me to my final point:

Who are we to determine how humanity ends up? We can barely look past our noses.

Do you want to trust eugenics with our future?

The Star Trek Generation: It is about time. Multi-touch desks for school=LCARS

via The Guardian UK:

"...The interactive multi-touch desks look and act like a large version of an Apple iPhone...

'The new desk can be both a screen and a keyboard. It can act like a multi-touch whiteboard and several students can use it at once,' said Dr Liz Burd, who led the university's Technology-Enhanced Learning (TEL) group that developed them."

http://www.guardianfeeds.co.uk/c/288/f/7511/s/1e802c9/l/0L0Sguardian0O0Ceducation0C20A0A80Csep0C170Citforschools0Belearning0Dgusrc0Frss0Gfeed0Ftechnologyfull/story01.htm

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Response to Howe and Rorty; 312; 1984

The Readings:

Howe. "1984--Utopia Reversed"

http://marxists.anu.edu.au/history/etol/writers/howe/1950/11/1984.htm

"The Last Intellectual in Europe: Orwell on Cruelty"
http://books.google.com/books?id=vpTxxYR7hPcC&pg=PA169&lpg=PA169&dq=Rorty's+%
22The+Last+Intellectual+in+Europe:+Orwell+on+Cruelty%
22&source=web&ots=mxGnRu8LCD&sig=w0YbKKxm55_24ms1wfN4ZqiPZdg&hl=en&sa=X
&oi=book_result&resnum=5&ct=result

What I find interesting about Howe, is that most of his "inaccuracies" about Orwell's "novel" are simply conclusions that were reached based on studying history.

"No ruling class, at least within Western society, has yet been able to dispense with ideology..."

"[In 1984, the proletariat was] "so helpless and demoralized that the state need no longer fear them. Now we have no right to say that this never could happen, but we must also observe that it has not yet happened."

An appeal to past events is not adequate support for what may happen in the future. However, this is exactly what Howe does.

I wonder how many could have envisioned a world where not one, but two world wars would be fought back to back? I realize that Howe leaves room for the possibility of Orwell's future, but that he would call it an inaccuracy seems to be the wrong word, and in a discussion and a book where words themselves are up for debate, this seemed worthy of mention.

On Rorty:

"If we take care of freedom, truth can take care of itself. If we are ironic enough about

our final vocabularies, and curious enough about everyone else's, we do not have to

worry about whether we are in direct contact with moral reality, or whether we are

blinded by ideology, or whether we are being weakly 'relativistic'" (176-77).

I am going to play devil's advocate on this one.

The first line is laughable. To take care of freedom first assumes that freedom is an important moral reality, the most important as it is first to be considered, without first qualifying it as such with Truth (Truth with a capital T is necessary, because in this sense we are talking about an absolute truth). What Rorty is saying is that by the very nature of freedom, the truth, moral and otherwise, will come about as a course of nature. We live in a society where free speech is not only allowed but (at least by the public) exhorted, yet how much closer to the truth is each individual, or the whole social organism, because of the allowed freedom? I am not extolling totalitarianism or downplaying the importance of free speech to find that truth, I am just trying to point out the logical inconsistencies by Rorty.

"Orwell helps us see that it just happened that rule in Europe passed into the hands of

people who pitied the humiliated and dreamed of human equality, and that it may just

happen that the world will wind up being ruled by people who lack any such sentiments

or ideas" (184-85)."

I don't think Orwell helps us see that the world may end up being ruled by a kind-hearted people who want nothing for themselves, at least by humanity's design. The opposite is true. Orwell tells us that even with the best of intention, eventually those who have a desire for power and to rule for power's end will rise to the top of society. Such people tend to flaunt solutions to economic and social problems, and often only deliver a twisted version of the promise. This isn't to say that a benevolent ruler cannot come to power, merely that benevolent rulers are more rare than malevolent rulers, and that it seems only a matter of time (because of this statistic) before the latter rises and either seizes or inherits that powerful position.

Freewrite poem

Whatever pain is around the
Corner,
Whatever joy is around the
Bend,
I will praise my
Father
My Healer, My Friend.

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile