The cage that protects

I loved the movie “I, Robot“.  I don’t know if enough people paid enough attention to a key message there: there are rules, and then there’s fuzzy logic.  There are so many ways in which we strive to protect ourselves.  But we could easily tie ourselves into knots that are tough to get out of, if we’re simply too scared and there isn’t enough trust to go around.  Stephen Covey, Jr., talks about the “speed of trust“, and how it costs people and societies tons to lose trust in one another.  While this manifests in different ways in different societies, in the highly regularized places, it could result in a parent being arrested because they happen to carry pictures of their kids swimming in the buff.  Or that immediate family will not have access to make any decisions (even potentially life-saving) about an 18+ year old “adult”, unless the person has signed a release form, and if they weren’t able to for some reason, well, too bad.

Where is that balance between the “protection from messing up” or “freedom to help” another’s life?  In the absence of trust, I don’t know if there ever will be a balance achieved through regulation.  It will be managing one fear or another.  I wonder.

All in a day’s play

Anyone expecting this to be a cohesive piece of writing, your wish-fulfilling-genie is on a break today.  (And no I don’t know when they’ll be back.)  The only accidental thing common to these musings is that they sort-of occurred within the same day, in the EST timezone.

If someone is about to scream, and the purpose is just to scream cos they feel like it, they should let the people within earshot know beforehand.  It’ll be quite distressing if they rushed to help, and then found out they were supposed to ignore thousands of years worth of evolutionary training.  I’d request the same courtesy from all artists/ performers.  If they’re just looking to express (rather than communicate or entertain), and I’m part of the audience, please let me know so I can stop trying to figure the art or performance out.  I have other uses for my limited gray cells, such as pondering on how best to use my gray cells.  If I go to see a dance performance, please have mercy and do not give me a euclidean riddle to solve in my off-work hours.  (And while we’re on that subject, please don’t give me those in my on-work hours either!)

So say I’m a believer.  In God, that is.  Or try to be.  One thing kinda common to all believers of the God-delusion (that’s a tongue-in-cheek homage to all those who choose to ignore Einstein’s conclusion on the topic) is that there’s no place we’re not watched.  In fact, one of the earliest-heard stories from my childhood (back when the stories aimed to communicate morals, not advertising tag lines) is when a teacher asks the students to go do a task where no-one was watching, and one child comes back saying, I couldn’t do it because everywhere I went, God was watching.  So why is it, that we behave so differently in the masjid, the house of God, than we do outside of it, as if that was the only place God can see us?  The same people who’d talk, work, take the bus, buy stuff at the counter, or any of a myriad of mundane everyday tasks in the presence of males and females, would be SO hesitant to coexist in the same physical room as the other gender?  One, it hasn’t been established that breathing the same recycled air as the other gender is forbidden.  Second, if it was, it’d be no worse doing it inside the mosque than outside of it.  And third, merely coexisting in the same space is about as desegregated an environment as that of Southern US (or British India) of the late 1800’s.  I don’t get it.  But what else is news.

I walk into a comedy show.  The audience is so white it’s like it snowed inside.  I don’t have a problem, but I do wonder.  Now that we see some brown on the ski-slopes, or even in cottage country and canoeing lakes, what’s up with comedy shows?  Either this “refined” entertainment escapes the rest of the human population, or they are (or think they are) so funny themselves they don’t need “hired help”?  The other interesting demographic is: it’s only women or couples.  I guess it’s just not a guy thing to go watch some dude being funny?  And once the courtship/ “winning over” period ends, it makes sense to pay the $15 or something to some other guy to amuse the wife/girlfriend.  Who can keep up that effort for life?  What I found amusing (certainly not the opening act) was the disclaimer that there may be adult material, but there’s no age restriction.  Talk about consistent laws!  I can’t hear this joke in a movie, but I can go hear it in a live show.  It’s bound to be less damaging to my young impressionable mind.

But of course, since I have electricity, running hot/cold water, reliable and safe transportation, and everything else to make my life comfy (including socks that have “fingers” for my toes just like gloves for the hands), I can sit back and complain about anything and everything.  Perfectly natural and justified.

Cutting God out of the picture!

In some muslim countries, movies are censored. And it’s not always the … er… “mature” bits, there are other kinds of “forbidia” as well (yes I created that word and am sticking by it!) Items of potential misuse by personnel that have yet to find anything productive to do, are also stricken/ snipped/ abbreviated/ edited… you get the drift. And this is done with complete and blatant disregard to the story, or the director’s sensibilities. Not even a condolence card or word of sympathy reaches those bereaved by the fate of the movie post-scissorum.

So Bruce Almighty plays in the theatres in one such country. With all the “God” scenes cut out of the picture. Did I mention it was the movie Bruce Almighty? So in the entire picture, there’s nothing left of Morgan Freeman, and the audience, who’ve already educated themselves via internet or other means we won’t discuss, are there enjoying a comedy movie, but laughing at parts the director had no intention of making funny! That is, the making up of the missing story bits with their own imaginations!

I watched the entire uncensored movie without for a moment holding any God-like feelings towards Morgan. I guess I’m part of the cynical jaded generation that has lost faith in the “truthfulness” of movies. This may be more harmful to the faithful who are more innocent than myself, and therefore are the loudest to protest. Perhaps there should be a special rating for such movies, with a minimum level of maturity, not measured in units of time on earth of just … “existing”.

And for those well-meaning folks who are touchy-feely about sensitivities, my vote would be to prioritize and protect those who are the weakest, needing protection. God isn’t in that picture either.

=> Retold with due credit and reverence to a dear person in my life, who is an incredible story-teller, and related this much better than I could!

Opine away not

As one “refines” with time (read: grows older), things that have always been nagging at the back of mind start becoming louder. [That's not a good thing, since all that noise in the "foreground" of thought is what adds to road accidents and unsuccessful romances.]

Anyhow, I’ve always read biographies of Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) and wondered… if I was on the “other side” of the writer (for those hooked on hindi movies and need everything painfully spelled out, this means a muslim reading a non-muslim author and vice versa), why would I trust your objectivity? I don’t know if – in a subject of that sort – it is even possible to be objective. And I don’t appreciate the weaving in and out of facts and opinions without making clear which is which. Not in a biography. In “The DaVinci Code” or “Chah-e-Babul“, that’s needed and what keeps me riveted.

I explain (or try to), my question.

Say I am a non-muslim writer, and not writing one of those “all is wrong” kind of books. I clearly don’t believe he was a prophet, but I am writing about a person who claimed to be one. Can I write an objective biography, objectively analyze all sources and not pick and choose, and leave the book without introducing any bias of “disbelief”?

Conversely, writing as a muslim, can I objectively write about his life while entertaining the possibility that he might not be a prophet?

It sounds a bit like not believing in global warming and writing a book about a dedicated environmentalist’s efforts. It can be done, sure. People write (and read) all sorts of stuff (witness this blog, and I rest my case!)

But was it an “objective” account? So far, I haven’t been convinced by either side’s writing. And I’m only objecting to the claim of “impartial” narratives.

If you don’t claim to be something (e.g. an objective narrator), you might get every benefit of doubt. But if you do… remember what happens to people in glass houses. In addition to other people using the walls as target practice for the olympics stone-throwing competition, it gets pretty hot in there.

Remember the global warming that isn’t happening?