Month: August 2014

The one thing in Luc Besson’s death rattle of a movie, Lucy, that made any sense was the idea of time providing a sense of life. Time is the measurement by which we define life—though we do it unconsciously. Think about: If we are made up of our energy, our actions, and our memories, we must have some constant by which those things exist. That is time. In particular, the passing of time allows for motion and even thought. No matter how instantaneous these things seem to be, they all occur within some quantum unit of time. Another way to look at death is as the cessation of future time. Once we are gone we can no longer perceive or inhabit time as it thrusts forward towards the eventual collapse of the universe.

 

Sometimes, I like to think that death is merely the end of our film and once over our consciousness continues to inhabit every moment of that film, allowing us to exist in those moments over and over again. In that sense we live in our own memories. This may be a happy or deeply unhappy existence, depending on the life one lead. Generally I feel we all experience both emotional poles throughout the course of our lives.

 

All of this brings me back to the question of life itself: Are we ‘alive’ and what does that mean exactly? Alan Turing developed a test decades ago that determined if something was a thinking person or an automated device. Modifications of the original Turing test are all across the ‘net as method of rooting out smart bots designed to pose as ‘people’ simulate the possible options a person would have to carry out instructions.

 

What separates us from those machines is a deeper level of scripting or social coding as well as a level of autonomy surrounding our code. While a computer is coded to carry out a specific set of instructions based on a quantifiable number of variables, most of us are coded to respond to more of a ‘prime directive’ on a social and biological level, and make autonomous decisions guided by that directive. Surprisingly enough this is best displayed through the interactions of teenagers in high school where the ‘prime directive’ is often as simple as gaining social recognition and status, with all of our autonomous actions carried out by the ridiculous amount of computing power in our brains working towards the directive. Not to make light of suicide, but it can be explained in the same way. The person committing suicide is often responding to a prime directive of personal happiness and is therefore reacting to a set of variables that have caused them to see the directive/goal as completely unattainable and as such to see life as untenable. What to us who still can reach our prime directive seems insane is merely a scruffy logic solution to a problem.

 

So, are we alive or just machines? Both, I think. We are programmed like machines from the moment of out births. We also come with a preexisting set of biological programs designed to keep us alive and reproducing. Regardless of who or what forces created us, we have since become learning machines capable of developing our own scripts and social programs for the world and changing the world to suit those scripts. There is little difference between this and where we are headed with artificial intelligence.

 

The one difference is that an AI knows it is a machine created by something (for the moment) greater than itself. Most humans believe we were created by something greater than ourselves, but how many are willing to admit that we are biological machines?

Rough saturday night/Sunday morning. I went to bed before midnight only to wake up after one in a cold sweat and terrified of my own mortality. This happens from time to time–especially when I find myself wondering openly about the relationship between man, animal, and computer. This latest night of terror and fear of eventual oblivion was fueled by a dark realization that we may merely be biological computers. I’m not talking about the Douglas Adams conundrum, instead I’m thinking of a more basic realization. We are largely limited by the scripts we run (be they social, biological, or otherwise). Because they are derived from biology and sociology we see ourselves as somehow being higher order beings. What if a computer developed the same level of scripting as a human. What then would separate it from us besides the fact that we programmed it? Does this then mean that faith is a mass hallucination and in the end we are merely walking programs that will eventually run their course? There’s a lot to think about in those questions, so I’ll go through what triggered my terror and then try to relate that to the above.

What happens when we die? Those of faith speak of the afterlife as a place where the spirit remains intact. I struggle mightily with the idea of ‘post-life’ because I view life as a collection of experiences. I do not believe we can take that with us when we depart. I think the idea of a soul is real–I consider it to be the activation energy that initially charges all life. I don’t think that energy is capable of holding together that which makes us individuals. In fact, I believe we are reincarnated as other forms–perhaps even becoming people again. Those new people are invested with new social scripts and biological imperatives that come to define them as individuals the way ours come to define us. In other words, they are not us. They are a part of us and likely posses the same core soul but the memories dissipate. My memories are me and when I die I cannot create anymore. I essentially enter a halting state–like a computer shut down… Only a computer is built on non biological chips and can be started back up again.

We are far more fragile.

There is more to be said here, but I will continue this line of thought tomorrow.

 

Some Thoughts:

1. My Iphone be dead, yo. If folks are trying to reach me, I apologize and I hope to fix the problem tomorrow.

 

Suddenly I write a movie blog.

I write about what strikes me at the time, and at this time I’m struck by the comic movies this summer. I thrilled to Guardians of the Galaxy and today I sat back and grinned to a surprisingly nostalgic Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles film. Look, the turtles aren’t high art, so if you’re looking for deep dialogue and plot twists, you’re out of luck. If you want to have fun and catch some smart one-liners, you are headed to the right film.

Turtles is not entirely an origin story. It plays more like an episodic that introduces (and provides a brief background summary to) the Shredder. The film starts by explaining (and partially reinventing) the origin of the turtles. The film quickly switches focus to a reimagined April O’Neill, sharing her story and origins. Keeping it real, she’s only there to be pretty and the filmography works to ensure that purpose is met. What stood out to me was not her, was not Shredder, but was Master Splinter and the ability of the writers to quietly pay homage to turtle movies and shows of the past. There was even a thinly veiled reference (and possible hint of future inclusion?!?) to Usagi Yojimbo, Samurai Rabbit.

I’m slowly moving back into watching deep literary stuff and reading the same, but in the meanwhile it is good to have some frivolous joy every once in a while.

Watching the Wu tang clan give an interview the other night I was struck by the comparison one rapper drew between rapping and being an athlete. He talked about growth, mindset, the ebbs and flows of business, but he neglected to talk about the athletes dilemma: eventually you get old, warn out, and replaced. From the opening scenes of Lucy I recognized Luc Besson is done and there is nothing more he can make of value.

For those unfamiliar with his work, Luc Besson brought us Leon The Professional, the film that launched Natalie Portman’s career (IMHO). He is also known for Taken, The Fifth Element, Arthur and the Invisibles, La Femme Nikita (including both TV series), The Messenger, District B13, even the Transporter (the first one was legit). What you may not know is that he is also the writer/creator of Taxi Brooklyn, which is further proof of his decline. Lucy gives us proof enough. This longer than needed, highly contrived, mess of  a movie is held together by the powerful narration provided by Morgan Freeman. Had he been the entire movie, it may have been a better experience. At points throughout you could see Scarlett Johansson struggling to make more of her character than what is on paper. I mean he straight up didn’t even try to write a character of worth. That’s the problem: He no longer has it within himself to create good, new, content. He is forced to dredge up and recycle old ideas with the hopes on riding out those once important characters like a literary pension. Not convinced? Here is proof: Taxi Brooklyn is a freshened up version of the movie he made in 1998. Still not convinced? Taken 3 is in post production and The Transporter 6 has already been announced.

We get old and, at some point, we lose the fire and or ability to produce good work. Luc is there. Lucy is proof of that. I’m glad to have seen the film. It served as a funeral of sorts for a career I’ve followed my entire movie-watching life. I’m sorry Luc Besson is gone, but seeing that makes it easier to forget that he is still around.

I hated English class. Even as a 9 yr old I thought, “Seriously, we gotta do the writing again?” This did not improve in the least through high school. By the time I reached college, my disengagement with English class resembled the relationship between the two Koreas. It had everything to do with a difference in expectations and goals. I wanted to go to play and the teachers wanted to talk to me about a language I felt I already knew and writing I was convinced I’d never need in the ‘real world’. Even as a teacher I’ve seen that strange dichotomy extended to my colleagues. Often we talk about ‘content’ courses such as Science or Math or Sociology where there is a long list of material that needs to be delivered. English is not treated as a ‘content’ course. Instead it is seen as some amorphous other where, in the absence of being defined as a ‘content’ course, it is by nature being defined as having no content whatsoever. Of course, English does have content and purpose. I didn’t figure it out myself until the first day I taught a class.

I remember that day clearly: I was shoved headlong into a classroom with a bunch of first year honors students, no script, and no idea what to tell them. So, I asked them for help. With that I learned a lot about how they felt, how I felt, and what was needed in order to create an environment that benefited us all. That is very important. I recognize that as the teacher I have to be there, but I believe that I have to want to be there in order to be effective for my students. The way I do that is by developing a theme for the class that makes it more relatable and valuable to the students. They are writing and learning about writing but in a way that allows them to develop the habit of writing, learn the process of writing, and take their writing wit them to be used later in their academic or professional lives.

The one thing I’ve figured out about life is that people have to be on the same page and heading in the same direction to work. If you’re not there then nothing else is going to matter. It is difficult to engage with a teacher if you feel they are only going to waste your time. It is equally difficult to engage with a student knowing they’re forced to be there and have no intention of participating willingly. Grades play a damaging role in this equation, because they reinforce the notions of control and limit the value of the experience. Grades become all the student wants out of the experience when learning should be the primary endgame.

The hour of the draft grows near and there is much debate about who is the sure fire #1 pick for your fantasy league. At first glance my thoughts went to Shady McCoy. After careful consideration I decided that this is not the way to go. Even the voters for the top 100 agree. Shady is great, but you gotta stay with All Day.

The Vikings are struggling to be relevant in a division that has a couple of dynamic offenses. In order to stay in games they realize they need control the ball for long stretches of time and that means plenty of touches for Ole number 28.

My partner in one league offered a counter-argument when I considered Manning as a number one. Because of the move to a passing league and the fact that there are at least a dozen offenses capable of putting up solid qb numbers, the manning pick can be shelved to get somebody in the second round whereas the running back spot is a dying breed. Backs aren’t being used at the rate they were and this not being drafted as high, which means to get one that really produces you need to pick them early.

I won’t give away all my secrets, but rb’s and wideouts are big point positions this year.

I spent some time at Lowe’s today purchasing the base pieces for the upcoming treehouse. This is meant to be a project that the boys and I will put together as part of the backyard redo. I’m not prepared to post before/after pictures or diagrams yet. Today I’ll have a conversation with the boys and wifey about what we want out of the backyard. We have a partial-completion date set, based around the time her mother arrives. I want to have a garden area prepared for her, so she can do some planting like she enjoys. I’ve picked out a trio of possible locations for gardening–one is better suited for wildflowers/desert flowers or something to serve as an attractive focal point to the yard. Today we’ll be taking measurements and thinking about how much space we actually have to work with.

I think I’m going to give in and deliver a warped wall. I have some concerns about how high everything gets. I looked into wiring possibilities and realized I could deliver power to the platform, which leads to needing a roof that protects whatever is powered inside. I’m a TV guy, but I don’t know that mounting a TV out there is going to float with everyone in the family. Still, putting an Xbox out there (even as a temporary/while we play) would amp up the cool factor. We also are planning to install a giant-size beyblade arena and who knows what else. All of this leads to roofing needs, which leads to height concerns. This might be a complicated project, but it will be  fun ride.

Some Thoughts:

1. Mistresses is still one of those fun guilty pleasures. Alyssa Milano’s obvious pregnancy was written out of the show. I think they did it to maintain the overly sexual nature of the show. I wish they would write out the April character, because her storyline is crap. It brings down the show (if such a thing is even possible with something that low already). Presently there is some man following her around. wit any luck that man will kill her and end this side jaunt into daytime soap madness.

Football is in the air. After a so-so output in last night’s game the Giants faced the loss of another player, David Wilson. The equally electrifying and befuddling RB suffered a serious injury in a game last year. It required surgery to fuse his neck. He tried to come back this year and after suffering a burner in practice he was advised to end football and waived (Injured) by the Giants. His career is over, but his life isn’t.

The incident calls for reflection on football in general. My first born is excited to take his first snaps in the spring, despite the very vocal protests of his mother. Stuff like this gives her more fuel to say no. Stuff like this should put her at ease but reports show that she is just one of many parents who look at football as the quickest path to their kids lives being shortened. As a mother my wife’s concerns are both valid and understood. On the other hand, I don’t feel comfortable holding him out at this age only to have him jump in–like I did–once he can do so on his own and suffer an injury simply because he didn’t know what to expect.

Football–be it watching, coaching, playing (expect a comeback in 4 weeks!), or life in the Fantasy leagues–is a part of my life. I’d be proud to have it be a part of my kids life the way it was/is in mine. I do my research and recognize the risks, but life is risk. I’d rather have them colliding in pads and helmets then out there slamming their bodies into the pavement from some American Ninja or extreme sports mishap.

I don’t see anyone trying to stop them from doing that stuff either.

Twas the night before elementary, when all through the house

All the boys were stirring like a cheez-it filled mouse.

The book bags were hung by the garage with care,

In hopes they would sleep and tomorrow’d be here;

These children weren’t nestled all snug in their beds;

I wanted to put palm upside of their heads;

And mama sat with them while I paced nearby,

flashing anger when I heard each one in turn cry.

A balance, you see, must be struck by a Dad,

to remove yourself, sir, when you start to get mad.

The spanking and screaming could be sure to follow,

When boys in their own self pity wallow.

“Oh Daddy, dessert please! Can we stay up till 10?!”

Amazing they think if they cry then they win.

It brings to mind my mom’s answer for pouts.

“Stop or I’ll give you something to cry about!”

But a balance is struck by the dad in this case.

Let the wife do her thing, and you can just pace.

All life is balance between good and bad,

Between tough and easy, happy and sad.

These lessons I learned carry through all my days,

As a father, a husband, and many more ways;

As a writer, a thinker, a gentleman too,

I pass lessons like memes to all of you.

Now the house grows still; the kids fall to slumber.

The clock clicks to 9, close to the key number.

Ten minutes erased and shared on the page,

I say better this than a moment of rage.

 

Some Thoughts:

1. I recorded the Giants game. I’ve only seen snippets, but it is clearly too soon to tell if they are going to be a winning team this year. One thing I noticed right away is how much younger the team is. Strahan was walking through the huddle chest bumping children and strangers.
2. School. I didn’t think I’d be so pumped to see them going back, but I am all for it. I could use some time to handle my own ‘ish.

“Begin with the end in mind and Die Empty.” On first glance these sound like the words of motivational writer and speaker Todd Henry, but they aren’t. This glancingly morbid view arrived from the lips of Aeneas Williams during an incredibly uplifting and poignant HOF enshrinement speech. Today 7 more football greats took their place in the Hall of Fame. Amongst those are Andre Reed, Michael Strahan, the aforementioned Williams, and a Punter named Ray Guy.

I’m part of a family that really doesn’t understand my attachment to football. Nearly everyone on my wife’s side is more concerned about the specter of concussion than the beauty of the game and what it does for you as an individual–as a fighter. When you hear the best of the best make their speeches to explain how they got to the Hall, you learn so much about work ethic and what it takes to fulfill your dreams.

Football is about understanding the work it takes and the pain and suffering required to get what you want out of life. Strahan talked about it. He waxed about how most people who know him have no idea he played football. He went on to talk about how football taught him to be the man he is today. Football teaches you fight and teamwork and compassion. These are lessons readily available for those willing to accept them.

I learn and gain so much every year from these speeches. I hope to one day be able to see one of my kids up there giving a speech maybe as a player going into the hall or simply just a kid being valedictorian. I want my kids to fight for what they want and to achieve everything that is possible for them.

As Williams says, I want them to die empty.