Siddhartha

I just finished reading Siddhartha, by Hermann Hesse. Since I'm taking a class on religion (Religious and Spiritual Traditions of the World), reading more religious books seems almost natural--hence The Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. But it's also because my mom started me on this path by giving me Walk On for Christmas. It's a book about "the spiritual journey of U2." I used to be a huge U2 fan, and my mom likes to try and connect to me through that, even though I don't think quite so highly of them as I used to. But I guess I could go even further and say that this all started when I read Life of Pi last year, and was both intrigued and annoyed by the way religion was used in that novel.

Anyway, we were about to start our section on Hinduism in my class, and it looked like I would have time to read something I actually wanted to for once, so I decided to read Siddhartha. (I was thinking about buying it once, when I got The Canterbury Tales and considered doing Barnes and Noble's Buy 2 Get 1 Free deal, but I figured I should read it first. Plus, when I was trying to think of a random book to mention in a short story I was mapping out, Siddhartha was the first to come to mind. So it felt like this book was calling to me.)

It's a lot shorter than I thought it would be. Plus, the writing style is very simple, almost like that found in fairy/folktales, with just the essentials of the story, and usually very plain dialogue. At first I was disappointed by this, feeling like it was more of a short story than a novel. But as I continued reading, I felt like this writing style was actually good for this kind of story. The story itself was pretty good. It's basically the life of a Brahmin who leaves home to go on a pilgrimage, seeking truth, enlightenment, and above all, peace. He continually shifts from one path to the next, not letting himself get tied down in dogma or the silly concerns of normal people (not for too long, anyway). It's a story of the yearning for meaning in life.

The philosophical and religious aspect of it was interesting, especially since I was reading about Hinduism for class already, so I grasped all of the concepts touched on in the book (like the fact that Siddhartha was from the tradition that followed Shankara's teachings, made blatant by his reference to Maya, the confusion caused by material reality that stops us from realizing the fact that everything is connected). It really stressed, for me, the fact that Hinduism is so varied and so open-minded that Siddhartha was allowed to break way from one tradition after another in search of his own truth...something which most other major religions would frown upon. No one in the book said that Buddha was wrong, even though his teachings were pointedly breaking away from Hinduism. Likewise, no one stopped Siddhartha from going on his way (his father took a while to approve it at first, but this was mostly because he didn't want to see his son leave him. And Govinda questions him a lot, but this is merely to understand Siddhartha, and perhaps learn something by questioning his choices).

Rating: 6.1/10

The Stone Gods

For my Environmental Literature class, I just finished reading The Stone Gods, by Jeanette Winterson. It's a very interesting novel, and definitely worth the read. To be honest, I didn't like it that much when I started, since it's so weirdly structured. But after you give it some time, it really grows on you. Plus, there's a subtle explanation for why the novel is the way it is.

My teacher pointed out that it's so weird because it's a blatantly postmodern novel, but its narrative style serves another purpose: pointing out the problem with our culture's mindset. We read an essay by Ursula K. LeGuin, in which she talked about the "male" narrative being the dominant one--the narrative of conquest, of defeating the enemy, of the hunt, of winning and losing. And because we tell these stories, that is how we see life.

Stories like The Stone Gods make it very obvious that this kind of attitude will get us nowhere. In the book, we find a new planet, Planet Blue, and we are getting it ready for colonization. We realize that we have ruined Earth (or Orbus, as the characters call it), and want to have a second chance on a new world. However, with our culture the way it is, our understanding of environmental problems is very minimal. Orbus is deteriorating faster than we admit, and it is because of the waste of human nature (with capitalism being the worst cultural force here).

I was annoyed that the book was broken into four parts, since I wanted to find out what happened next in the first part, but that's part of the point, really: I'm looking at it hoping to see an answer. Hoping to see humans pull through in the end, and solve their problem. Overcome adversity. Defeat the evil. But that's not what life is always about. The novel is very cyclical, starting in the future, going to the past, and then going to another part of the future. A lot of philosophy, which I really liked. I would definitely recommend this book.

Rating: 7.8/10

The Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster (and some other religious talk)

I recently decided to read The Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, by Bobby Henderson. While I am agnostic, I am inclined towards atheism, and the parody implied by this book intrigued me. I liked the idea of pointing out that the FSM is just as ridiculous, and as valid, as any other revered deity. So I went into this book expecting to see a spoof of a religious text, with every part of it being similar to other texts in some way, creating a myth that is ridiculous, in the same way that other world myths are to those outside of the culture.


But I was disappointed. Most of the book was written by "experts" trying to prove the religion by stupid arguments, most of which only the most amateur of apologists would use. Some portions were repeats of other parts, which was annoying (the graph for the effect of Pirates on average global temperature was used about 5 times). If anything, the book serves as one of those weird treatises by religious fanatics that no one from the religion really wants to own up to.

There were some good parts, though. I won't give them all away, for those who actually want to read it, but there were some clever connections made between reality and the effects of a god made of pasta. After a while, though, the points about that started getting tiresome. So it's fun for a while, but it really drags towards the end. I would've enjoyed it more if it had been shorter, or if it included some excerpts from a fake religious text (which would have been good for Henderson market-wise, since he could've written another book--one which would've been exactly what I'd been hoping this one would be).

I give this one 3.3/10.

This book also made me think about my religious stance a little, and how I feel about atheists. In my sophomore year at high school, I read Science and the Supernatural, a series of letters between a Catholic and an atheist. The latter pointed out that he was actually agnostic, although he was strongly against the existence of God. His distinction was that while he believed God didn't exist, he knew that it was impossible to know for sure, and that alone made him agnostic. This is something I struggle with. Once, my dad talked to me about a different form of agnosticism, which is simply not believing in anything at all (my current stance).

Of course, we always want to categorize things, so as I looked at some stuff about religion, I came upon the term Atheist Agnostic, which basically means not believing that a god exists, but knowing there is no proof. At first I thought I fit this category, since I have an atheistic inclination. But then I started thinking more about it. My aim is to be more objective, and so I feel bad for being so vehemently atheistic in my thoughts. Plus, there's a good amount of atheists who obnoxiously call all theists idiots (similar to the way a lot of theists tell others that they're going to hell). I don't want to be associated with this trend, and I really hope it goes away, along with all the rampant intolerance between other religions.

Another problem is that "agnostic" is used in religions sometimes to mean that someone believes in the general parts of a belief system, but isn't part of a certain denomination, or is unsure about certain parts of it. This gives people the idea that agnosticism is just a prefix or suffix that is added onto a religion to talk about personal uncertainty within a bigger picture. I don't really like this, since it creates my problem with the Atheist Agnostic label. I'm not an atheist; my agnosticism comes first. But Agnostic Atheist pretty much says the same thing (heck, maybe that's the better term for it). Should I say Atheistic Agnostic? Agnostic with a splash of Atheism?

So I much prefer the idea that I am Pure Agnostic. I don't believe in anything. I don't believe God exists; I don't believe God doesn't exist. I frankly just choose not to believe. Believing puts you in a position where you can't accept that other data could be true. While I think it's most likely that God doesn't exist, I know that it's impossible for me to know that for sure. But I'm not going to believe anything either way. I work under assumptions gained through inductive reasoning and probability, but I always realize that I can be wrong. Now, I'm not trying to convert anybody, but I think this is the best attitude for people to have, since it fosters tolerance for other beliefs and other ways of living.

And just for future reference...when I use the word "believe" in a sentence...know that I'm using it in a casual manner, just throwing it out there because it fits--not because I'm strict about the thing in question.

Oryx and Crake (no big spoilers for once, I promise)

I am taking a class entitled Environmental Literature, and one of the books we'll be reading is The Year of the Flood, by Margaret Atwood. Since it's the second in her MaddAddam trilogy, our teacher recommended we read the first book, Oryx and Crake. So I did. I just finished it, and thought I'd share my thoughts here.

Oryx and Crake starts out pretty slow. To be honest, I didn't like much of the present-day action at first, since it was pretty dull and I was still waiting on the explanation. But over time it grew on me, especially once the flashbacks got underway. The character Crake was definitely the most interesting to me...or rather, I enjoyed seeing the differences between him and Jimmy. The way society "degrades" in this novel is very realistic, though I doubt it will actually happen this way. I enjoyed seeing people being more open to stuff that's taboo today.

I can't say that I liked Oryx quite as much. Her backstory was interesting, sure, but she only gets into the linear story of the flashback near the end. Once there, the pieces start coming together, but I still feel like she could have been developed a bit more. Or maybe I'm just like Jimmy, and want to figure out more things about her past in order to understand her, when that isn't important to her at all.

Overall, it has great pacing, though it drags at times. Once you make it through the first few present-day parts, though, it doesn't annoy you as much. Even though I didn't like that at first, I think this back-and-forth method was the right choice. I feel like this novel could have worked as a stand-alone, so I'm skeptical about the sequel. But maybe I'll be surprised.

Rating: 7/10

(I will rate books here by a ten-point system, which is my favorite by far. I rate stuff on Shelfari all the time, but I hate the five-star system. I like being more exacting in my measurements.)

All Travel is Time Travel (and a bit about Source Code, so Spoiler Alert)

My fiancee recently made the statement, "All traveling is time travel." Her uncle proceeded to comment on it, saying that surely not all of travel was time travel. His argument didn't make much sense to either of us, but it still got me thinking about the nature of the fourth dimension.

I read The Time Machine, by H.G. Wells, a bit over a year ago. In this book, Wells puts forth the idea of time as the fourth dimension, in addition to length, width, and height. Many people have a hard time conceptualizing time, so this is the easiest way to do it, in my opinion. To move across one dimension, you go left and right. To move across two dimensions, you go forward and backward. To move across three dimensions, you go up and down. And to move across four, you go through your day. Every moment that passes pushes you along that dimension into the future.

This is why it's easy to see that anything you do automatically moves you across that dimension. Even sitting still does, since time is still passing. And, as many people fail to realize, the Earth is constantly in motion, so you really can't escape movement unless you're out in the void of space and are able to stop yourself from moving. Even then you're going through time: you might not be moving as a whole body, but processes are still taking place inside of you.

The only way to stop movement along that axis would be to "freeze" time. But how would that really work? Reaching absolute zero? That stops all movement, after all. But does the cessation of movement really mean the cessation of movement along the fourth dimension? Well, think about it: does it end movement along the other dimensions? Sure, you can't move left, right, back, forth, up, or down...but those dimensions still exist, creating the landscape of the frozen universe. Hmm...but it has stopped movement. I'm not convinced, however, that time itself would stop. Everything would be frozen at a particular point in its four-dimensional travel, but that doesn't stop things from moving along that axis.

The difference, of course, is that movement across four dimensions works without conscious effort. So I guess this would be a fatalistic way of looking at it, but...just as our first three dimensions are constantly present, so is our fourth. Our life can be seen as a block, and the passage of time is just our observation of the measurement of time. An example that would make this clearer is Kurt Vonnegut's classic novel, Slaughterhouse-Five. The Tralfamadorians, an advanced alien race, are able to see all of time. They describe the human observation of time as rolling down an incline while looking at a mountain range through a tube (I am paraphrasing. If you haven't read the book, you should; it's a masterpiece). It's all there, but we can't see the entirety of it. We just see one bit of it at a time.

(Hmm...now that I think about it, this could possibly disprove the idea of all travel being time travel. After all, if every instance of your life is always there, all that's really changing is which part of it you're viewing. Then the only time travel that could occur would be through a time machine. Of course, that's only if you're taking the fatalistic "block" conception of time to that extent...and besides, it's not like our consciousness is outside of time, looking in. So never mind. Just what I thought was a setback... Your consciousness is part of your transformation through time, since its nature can change through the passage of time, and thus it time travels. There.)

The only way to be outside of time would be to use a device that stops time, like the one in that episode of The Twilight Zone where the guy stops time and then breaks the stopwatch, ending up stuck like that forever. But even then, you are working by your own subjective fourth dimension. That's the whole point, after all. When he freezes time, he doesn't freeze himself. He goes out and steals money. Though I guess the real problem with this is that something like that shouldn't be possible. Air would freeze, the tools he would need to get the money would freeze, his clothes would freeze, etc. He shouldn't be able to move at all. I guess that's what comes of not thinking through all the implications of such a thing... Anyway, such a device would freeze all time completely. And perhaps that would be the end point of the four-dimensional axis. The only way to avoid time travel is to avoid the possibility of travel--namely, by stopping time itself.

This whole conversation got met thinking about time travel movies, since I am taking a science fiction film class at the moment. The second review we have to write is for a time travel movie, and I was mad to see that Source Code was on the list of recommendations. I guess that every movie, technically, is a time travel movie, since all movement is time travel as I have described it above. So I would change the criteria for "time travel" from "movement through time" to a more specific definition. From now on, when I talk of time travel, I mean, "unnatural movement across the fourth dimension, esp. by use of a time machine." This excludes the normal workings of life, but includes such things as cryogenics, stasis, slingshotting around the sun, and other methods outside of the natural flow across our fourth dimension.

Source Code purports to be a time travel movie in the sense I have just revised it. But in the end, it fails at all the science it attempts. The basic point behind the plot is that Colter Stevens is sent back into a dead guy's memories to relive the bombing of a train and find out who was responsible. This is a ridiculous premise, worse than Looper. If such a technology existed, there is no way he could do anything other than what the man already did. As such, he cannot learn things that the person didn't learn the first time through. He can't go places the person didn't go, or make conversations that the person didn't make. Otherwise it would cease to be that person's memory.

But the filmmakers go a step further, and completely ruin all credibility by adding the time travel aspect to it. Colter decides that if he changes things on the train, he can change the future. Which is the dumbest idea ever. I emphatically agreed with the people in the movie telling him he was crazy for thinking it would work. Because, logically, changing what happened in someone's memories, in a computer simulation of those memories, does not constitute going back in time and changing real events. All he would've done is changed how those 8 minutes turned out, which he shouldn't be able to do anyway. The simulation should have shut off, leaving no alternate universe. The only possible way this new alternate universe could exist is as a fantasy in Colter's mind similar to that in the short story, "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge", by Ambrose Bierce. And that is how I choose to interpret that movie, because I'm really serious about time travel.