Modernity

And so I lie still and wait,
without hope.
Burned, bombed, bruised, and beaten,
To a cell I return.
My prison, my freedom,
My island.
Forgiveness I ask, or
Leave me here to rot.

The Ethics of "Yes"

I've been thinking a lot lately about what the world (or... my world) would be like if I always answered any request with "yes." This week has been a really spiritually intense week, and as of right now, I'm trying this experiment of answering "yes." It's really quite strange, because it has really opened a lot of doors for interesting opportunities in the past few days. I feel as though I've participated more in the forming of my own life, and I like this fact. Now, I realize that there are lots of reasons why this personal philosophy could fail, and why people would be against it, because I, too, do not believe it to be "complete."

I am, interested, however, in the ethics of "yes" and in the creation of a system of "yes." Is this system possible? Can such a system stay in line with ethics? Of course, the following request will come from my conspiritors here at E&E, "will you go kill so-and-so" or some various form of the same question. But do limitations need to be placed upon such a system of yes? I am currently undecided on the issue, because it seems to me that members of such an ethical system would have no reason to request ridiculous things such as murder or violence, because, under the ethical system, if asked, they themselves would be required to perform such actions. Is an ethical system only valid within itself?

I suppose that I am looking for a legitimate way to encourage myself to really just live in the moment and accept the world around me as it is, and love the people in my life.

Answers? Questions? Requests?

All Art is Quite Useless*

I have been mulling over the possibility (or non-possibility) of coming up with a decent definition for art (probably thanks to the Ethics and Ethos team’s monumental artistic creation last week). So, I will begin by posing a question: what constitutes art?

This question was much easier to answer in, say, the Italian Renaissance. If it has a bunch of circles and naked people, can be put on the wall of a church, and is commissioned by the Medici, then we call it art. Obviously I am vastly oversimplifying the matter, but the issue of defining what is art has become drastically more difficult in the past century thanks to modern, postmodern, and contemporary art pushing the boundary of what is and is not acceptable.

In the past, art was supposed to appeal to our intellectual, emotional, and aesthetic sensibilities. In other words, it should cause us to reflect, inspire emotion, and not make us want to vomit. As art becomes more abstract, however, it becomes increasingly difficult to categorize and interpret. For example, should we classify Yves Klein’s monochrome paintings as art? Are they successful in achieving the artistic effect intended by their creator? Personally, when I look at his monochrome paintings (all a quite vivid, as well as patented, shade of blue), I am not calmed or moved the “pictoral sensibility” they are supposed to embody (actually, they make me quite nervous; I end up staring in panicked confusion at the canvas and wondering where the rest of the painting is). Others obviously react to his paintings in a different manner, or they presumably would not be on display in museum galleries all over the world. Is the definition of art an entirely subjective one, to be determined by the opinions of the viewer?

Of course, perhaps we should not be judging the work of art itself, nor the audience’s reaction to it. We could always choose to go with the theory that the artist’s intention makes the object a work of art, not an intrinsic quality of the work itself. If I spontaneously draw a red line on a sheet of paper, it is not art. If, however, I consciously intend for my finished product to be a work of art, then it is, even if my drawing professor, who is clearly blind to my artistic genius, doesn’t recognize it as such. Please correct me if I’m wrong (it occasionally happens), but I think this is part of the intention behind Duchamp’s notorious Fountain: a perfectly ordinary object transformed into a work of art through the conscious intention of the artist.

We could always be cynical and simply say that art is defined by the contemporary equivalent of the Academy. A motto for this view could be: “If it’s in a museum, it’s art.” Society, or an elite part of it, judges whether a work falls under the definition of art or not, regardless of whatever the philosophical conception of art may be, and the sheep-like populace mindlessly accept the definition and happily go to gawk at the pretty (or not so pretty) pictures for a few hours on weekends.

I suppose I should end with the question I began with: what is art? Why is Jackson Pollock so popular? Do we really want to qualify someone throwing around chicken blood and entrails as art (google the Vienna Actionists if you’re curious, but please don’t blame me for any resulting disturbed mental state)?

*Bonus points if you can identify the origin of the title

Right to partially choose? Partial right to choose? Right to choose non-partially?

I'm going to come out and say it: the partial-birth abortion law is wrong. I know I'm supposed to go into an in-depth discussion about the ethics of abortion, but I am going to refrain from that, at this moment, and just be angry.

Not only does the Supreme Court 5-4 ruling infringe upon the famous ruling in Roe v. Wade, the ruling, in effect, suggests that the conservative cinch could very well become tighter. I am particularly angry at the opinion piece written by Edward Whelan for the USA Today, found here: http://news.yahoo.com/s/usatoday/20070419/cm_usatoday/awelcomedecision;_ylt=AnnlbcKQE863ydC9OXdajXWs0NUE

Whelan, the President of the ironically named "Ethics and Public Policy Center," not only makes the ridiculous claim that "all Americans should welcome" this ruling, he says that the majority "exercised judicial restraint and properly deferred to the democratic process." Just how did Kennedy, Scalia, Alito, Thomas and Roberts Jr. exercise restraint? Maybe they thought twice about that second cup of coffee? Maybe they restrained from caring about individual liberty? Maybe they restrained from getting their deli sandwiches with extra mayonaise? It seems to me that the democratic process protects the individual's right to individual liberty, so I'd be interested to know how "deferring to" such a process resulted in a self-promoting, self-guided (though certainly not self-written) Supreme Court decision. Or maybe Whelan's editor incorrectly assumed a grammatical or content error and added the "to" into his original sentence. Maybe Kennedy, et al., placed aside the democratic process to restrict individual liberty. I'd like answers, Mr. Whelan.

I'm thinking that placing restrictions on individual liberty is not quite what our "founding fathers" (I say this only because it's commonly accepted) had in mind (no, they were too concerned about giving Americans the right to bear arms. That turned out quite well, didn't it?) nor is it a very good idea. And here's why: if we restrict liberties, we are necessarily restricting freedom. As we know, our President-in-Cheif has declared that freedom is the pursuit of all Americans--we wouldn't want W. to be wrong, now would we?

I'm so upset that I can't even make jokes. I've never really been graced with that talent; I more kind of crinkle to the floor and curl into the fetal position. It's just now, with this ruling, if I ever find myself in this position again, I'm afraid I won't be able to get out for 24 weeks, even if I wanted to get out. And when I do get out, I'll still be upset because I'll be re-born into a world where my very own Supreme Court dismisses individual liberty.

And on the first day...

"I am falling off the ball, Eric, stop, I am falling off the ball." And thus, this experiment begins.

The quest of three students to discover truth in the midst of the college culture of consumer America officially begins.

Enjoy.