Monday, January 24, 2011

Cake or death?

A point to all of you who know the origin of the title.  Double points if you have the whole speech memorized, and fifty points to any of you who thought, "Oh ho!  That whole sketch was about the Church of England, therefore this post is going to be about religion!"  If any of you did earn those fifty points, please turn off your computer and your television and go outside for a while, because you are more plugged in and crazy than I am and that's saying something

As most or all of you know, I'm agnostic.  Now, to clear up any terminology issues, when I say agnostic I mean that I don't believe in God and don't believe there isn't a God - I quite simply don't know one way or the other.  I was raised in a household without much exposure to religion and a great deal of exposure to the scientific method, so the latter trumps the former.  But since I can't disprove God's existence just as much as I can't prove it, I'm stuck floating in between somewhere.

Do I lean one way or the other?  Depends on what day it is, honestly.  Days when I'm feeling especially down-to-earth rational, I lean against belief.  Days when I can't handle the idea of neuroscience because the whole human consciousness could not possibly be created from one single brain filled with so few neurons?  Those are the days I almost believe in a soul.  And yes, I was a neuroscience major until I hit that wall.  I couldn't handle progressing in a field with such an important, potentially unanswerable question. 

I guess the point that I want to make here - something that I didn't realize until this very sentence - is that agnosticism is not the same as apathy.  For evidence, please see the last post where I couldn't concentrate on homework for nearly three hours because I was compelled to break down Tron: Legacy into its bite-sized Catholic symbolism components.

The thing is, I love religion.  I've written a whole post on why religious studies classes are so important.  Most of the people of the world are religious, and when you understand the ideas of the major world religions, you understand people.  Many wars, stories, and actions only really make sense in the context of religion.  That's why the three books that will never leave my dorm room are the Bible, the English Translation of the Meaning of the Qur'an, and the Book of Mormon.  If anyone feels like giving me a copy of the Talmud or the Ramayana, I'll gladly add it to that collection.

The problem is that collecting religion is not the same as being part of one, but I fear that it is too late for me.  If you want to try and convert me, go ahead - it makes me feel happy that someone cares about my immortal soul (just don't be sneaky or manipulative about it, because that kind of behavior severely pisses me off).  But if you try, know that many others have come before you.  Hell, I've tried to convert me to something, and it's always failed.

It's always seemed like being part of a religion would make life better.  Not easier, mind you, because from what I understand, if you do it right, being part of a religion takes a lot of time and searching and doubt.  But religion gives you a special community and a certain fulfillment when you live and comfort when you die.  But like I said, I think it's too late for me.  It's something I've learned to live with.

But sometimes, just in case someone is listening, I pray.  And when I do pray, I pray for the things I think God would want to answer, because if there is something that observation has taught me, I don't think God directly intervenes with cancer removal or test scores.  I mean, if all the Unitarian Universalists suddenly started winning the lottery and getting miraculously cured of their AIDS through intensive prayer, we'd have heard about it by now.  So I pray for things that aren't tangible, things that don't require massive changes in the cause-and-effect of the world.  Like if you're out there, help me find you and help make my work ethic better or  make me a kinder person or help my friend through her illness.  Because if every once in a while I offer a well-intentioned prayer to make myself a better person instead of to have the world bend itself to my needs, just maybe, maybe, someone might answer.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

In the name of the Father and of the Tron...


As pretty much all of you who read this know, I saw TRON: Legacy last weekend.  For reasons even I don’t fully understand, I loved it.  A big part of it was due to the fact that I actually liked the story and it made sense to me, unlike the many critics who just couldn’t follow it or didn’t like what they did understand.  Looking back at the story, I can see two main reasons why.

1) I have watched the original TRON within the last 4 months
2) I attended a Catholic high school.

Weren’t expecting that second one, were you?  But as it happens, TRON: Legacy is filled with crazy-tons of religious symbolism and biblical stories all piled together in one mish-mash of awesome, something which my years of Bible study and comparative religion have allowed me to appreciate.  Now I am by far not the first person to point out the obvious religious symbolism in the movie, but I’d like to put my own take on some of the details.  Here’s a pretty spoiler free-one - the opening narration that sets the tone for the movie:

The grid.
A digital frontier.
I tried to picture clusters of information as they moved through the computer.
What did they look like?
Ships?  Motorcycles?
Were the circuits like freeways?
I kept dreaming of a world I thought I’d never see.
And then, one day,
I got in.

What I love about this is the way it’s spoken.  At least on the soundtrack, the whole thing has the feeling of a religious story or an old fairy tale.  In a strange way, it almost feels like someone reciting the words of a prophet’s story written in the Bible.  Here, take a look at what happens when just a few nouns are swapped out:

Heaven.
A spiritual frontier.
I tried to picture clusters of souls as they moved through the realm.
What did they look like?
Ghosts?  People?
Were the angels like humans?
I kept dreaming of a world I thought I’d never see.
And then, one day,
I got in.

This is what really got me thinking about the religious symbolism of the movie, and what I found is really interesting.  But for those of you who haven’t watched the movie yet, please don’t continue reading until you have.  The movie is worth seeing all theatrical-like and in 3D without spoilers (just make sure that you watch the original movie first or else the story will be harder to understand and much less fun).  If you need, here’s the original movie all in one go on YouTube: 



HERE THAR BE SPOILERS.

Right-o.  So in TRON: Legacy, we have Kevin Flynn, a User and the father of Sam Flynn, who is trapped in a world in which he has god-like powers and which he has, in part or in whole, created.  Many cycles ago, Flynn created a program named Clu in his own image.  Flynn’s command to Clu was simple: help create a perfect world.  Flynn and Clu worked together in harmony to perfect the digital world until a new kind of program appeared.  These programs were called ISOs, and they were unique for appearing spontaneously without having been programmed and for having the ability to evolve and learn, almost like they had souls.  Kevin Flynn (the Father) sees these new creations as wonderful miracles with great potential to shape the future, and they become his favored children in The Grid.  Clucifer (sorry, couldn’t resist) sees these programs (humans) as flaws in a perfect system, seeks to destroy all of them, and rebels against the Father to usurp him and take over The Grid.  

In what is possibly the best metaphorical answer to the question “If God exists, where is he now and why isn’t he doing anything about all these wars” that I’ve ever seen, Flynn ends up hiding from Clu outside of the Grid proper in a home where he mostly sits around and meditates on nature of the universe while looking exactly like Michelangelo’s interpretation of God:

Photobucket
Seriously, the hair, the beard, the robes, the weird thing(s) on his back…

The reason given for him not leaving and, say, doing something in either of his worlds is that if he does, Clucifer will instantly find him, grab his info disc, and hitch it up to his digital Tower of Babel so that he and his army of fallen angels humans programs can walk amongst the Users and cause an Apocalypse by taking over the world.  Clu’s rebel programs have two possible origins: either they turned to serve him willingly (Castor, for instance) or they were brainwashed and corrupted into serving him instead of the Users.

Flynn’s only company is Quarra, the last remaining ISO, a young woman who is naïve and pure and innocent and completely loyal to him, making her possibly the first time that the Virgin Mary has been so clearly realized as a digital character. 

Ultimately, the restoration of the balance in the world only comes about when Sam Flynn, Kevin Flynn’s approximately thirty year old Son who shares the same substance as his Father (flesh, blood, and DNA as opposed to zeroes and ones) becomes data incarnate.  His mission: rescuing his father to get him (and by extension his father’s corporate message of generosity and good will) back to the physical world, which will in turn save his father’s company (his father’s people) from its path of selfishness and corruption.  In doing so, he also helps his father to purify the Grid of Clu’s evil influence and saves the last of the ISOs (humanity) before both he and the Virgin Mary stand-in are assumed, body and soul, back into heaven/reality.

Clearly there are problems with this analysis, what with things like the programs standing in for both humans and angels as necessary and the Son falling in love with the Virgin Mary.  But hey, I never claimed that this movie was an exact Biblical retelling, just that there's a lot of religious symbolism in this movie.  I think I've proven my point.  I hope at least one person cares about this, because I've just blown about 2.5 hours of quality homework time getting this out of my system. 

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Hark how the bells/ Sweet silver bells/ All seem to say/ Panic today

Here is how my Christmas break has gone:

1) Get home from college a week before Christmas after packing my entire college room in one day (on almost no sleep).
2) Sore throat within two days of being home
3) Minor oral surgery
4) Full-blown cold
5) CHRISTMAS!
6) Back to sneezing 
7) Start seriously working on summer research applications.  Panic. 
8) Take care of other work necessary to fully start in on research applications.  Lose two days in Excel spreadsheets.  
8) Start to fully realize will be leaving the country to study abroad on January 4th.  Panic.
9) Begin to comprehend the massive amounts of work it's going to take to complete all the applications and pack optimally in the next four days before I leave *brain asplodes*

Dear Universe, please return my work ethic.  I think I left my Windows 7 version back in senior year of high school.  I've been making do with Vista ever since, but it just suffered a bad virus and is having trouble getting back on its feet.  Help?

Sunday, December 26, 2010

Warning: Angst Below

This is just a heads up to those of you who haven't read it yet - my previous post, the one I wrote last night, is pretty angsty.  It was also written around 2:00 AM, and it probably shows.  I could take it down, but I'm not going to, because I think there isn't enough emotional honesty in the world.  Too many people ask, "How are you?" and don't expect a real answer.  So the entry below is pretty much me at my lowest and most melodramatic.  That's okay.  It's a part of who I am that doesn't make public appearances very often, and I feel like I don't want to hide that part of myself away anymore.

I'm being taken over by the fear

I'm a procrastinator.  I hate it, but it's true.  Any kind of work that feels forced or has a deadline just gets pushed off, even if I don't really mind it or want to get it done.  Unfortunately, and somewhat ironically, there is one topic my brain works constantly to take care of in advance - mourning, death, and disaster.   This has been true all my life. 

When I was seven or eight, I used to have recurring nightmares about my house catching on fire several times a week.  Before I went to sleep every night, I even made sure I had everything on hand that I needed to grab so I could get out quickly if a fire hit.  By the time I became clinically depressed in high school (a period which has thankfully passed), my fears had matured to include the deaths of my parents, my friends, even myself (mostly as an afterthought, because few teenagers can really conceptualize themselves dying).  Nearly every night I would lay awake in bed, thinking of all the ways my parents could die.  What would it feel like?  How would I find out?  How could I live without one of my parents?  How could I keep going under the crushing agony?

I can feel it, you see.  I have felt in my heart a miniature version of the pain I know will come when they die.  It stabs and it burns.  I can't imagine what the real version will feel like.  But that's not the point.  The point is that I have mourned the death of my parents a thousand times when there has been no reason to even think they were in danger.  So much of my life has been spent wasting time investing in a sadness that won't decrease later for all that I'm putting into it now.  So why?  Why do I live with this?  

The truth is that I love my parents more than anyone else in the world.  I have amazing friends who I love dearly, but no one can compete with my mom and dad.  They are truly amazing, loving, smart, kind, and good people.  They have given me so much love, great advice, and every opportunity to be the best person I can be.  I can never thank them enough, and I can't imagine my world without them.  It is for this reason that in the dark hours of the night after the best Christmas I can ever remember having - sitting with my parents and exchanging gifts and love and stories - that I have fallen into a deep sadness.  I remember exactly how much I have to lose.  And I'm not being randomly paranoid - without being too specific about  my mother's age, I can tell you that both my parents are early baby boomers.  They're not old, but they aren't spring chickens either.  

I guess I also think my life has been too good and my luck has to run out soon.  I've never really suffered in any way that counted, and I feel like it's got to bite me in the ass any day now.  My mother once got in bad bicycle accident and another time we thought she was having a heart attack, but both turned out okay.  My father has had to go to the hospital several times for heart problems to get his heart set right with the paddles - maybe that counts.  I think that problem will kill him someday, and every hospital visit carries the risk that his heart will just stop and not start again.  Do the suicides of an aunt and a cousin count?  The deaths of three grandparents?  The amazing grandmother I don't remember because strokes rendered her entire body unresponsive?  I don't know.  I don't know what will satisfy the universe.  

These days, the depression is gone but the fears are not.  The nighttime terror only hits every month or two now, but it hurts terribly when it does because I know that whether I have suffered enough to satisfy fate or not, my parents will die.  And on the nights when the terror strikes, I see car crashes.  I see flat lines.  I see The Big One (the massive 9.0+ earthquake that's long overdue) hitting Seattle and crushing my parents in their beds or making the bluff under the house slide away, carrying my parents with it.  I hear one parent calling me to tell me the other has been diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer.  The list goes on and on.  And I know that I will see the deaths of my parents come to pass one day unless I die before them.  That is an unacceptable alternative because one of the worst things a person can suffer is to bury their own child, and I know my parents love me at least as much as I love them.  Therefore the only hope that I have is that my parents live to a truly ripe old age in good health, and that when they die I'll have a husband and a child of my own to give me the love I'll need to make it through what will hopefully be the worst times of my life.

Great.  This means that logically I have to get married and pregnant ASAP to help get my fear under control.  That seems like a bad motivation.  Also, I'll then be even more terrified about the safety of my husband and kid.  I feel like I'm playing fear Whack-a-Mole where hitting one more just makes the next one bigger, angrier, and rabid.  I'm gonna need a bitter mallet.  


If you made it through that entire entry, thank you for reading what must have been one of the most morbid and depressing blog posts you've ever seen.  Maybe some of you saw yourself reflected in it, and if so, I'm sorry.  

P.S.  Mom, Dad, I love you, and I fully expect one of you to come at me crying as soon as you read this.  Sorry.  

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Vampire Pimp

This is probably the last you'll hear from me before Thanksgiving.  SO MUCH WORK. 

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Chicken Soup For the Paranoid Soul


(and now for a copy-and-paste of my video description on YouTube)

 Hello, everyone! You might be thinking to yourself, "Wow, what an ungrateful person! Rootsays spends half a video plugging her and she doesn't even mention it!" The truth is, I filmed an entire video just for that purpose (filmed it twice, actually), but when I was almost done editing it, my editing software crashed and now appears to be broken for good. It's actually quite fortunate that this video was already saved to my computer when it happened.

Basically, the lost video said three things:
1) Rootberry/Rootsays: totally awesome. (for all 16 of you who were subscribers before they/he sent the rest of you over, http://www.youtube.com/rootberry and http://www.youtube.com/rootsays
2) Thank you to everyone who subscribed, particularly those who went from my channel to blkfrhwk's and then subscribed to her. Blkfrhwk a.k.a. Jude was the first person to, uh, "discover" me on YouTube and has been an incredibly supportive and awesome friend ever since. Check her out if you haven't already: http://www.youtube.com/blkfrhwk
3) The promised "coolest responses for ways to die": Mister Flask: teleporter accident CallieLauren: flying a spaceship into a black hole DampRabbitVideo: being hit by a meteor Zjeli: having a heart attack onto the letter k (my Cliff's notes version)

Anyway, I don't know how long it's going to be until I get my new editing software, but despite that problem and all the homework I'm about to get slammed with, I'll be back as soon as I have any time to give.

P.S. Bet you five imaginary dollars that while they were watching the video, my parents were shaking their heads and thinking about how I was talking too fast.

P.P.S. For those of you sharp-eyed people who noticed a slight audio desync in certain areas, that was the fault of my now-dead editing software. I spent hours fixing as much of it as I could stand.

P.P.P.S. I don't want any debates about the definition of irony.

(end YouTube copy-paste)

And now for exclusive content!  Which boils down to -  ARG EDITING PROGRAM ARG.  Before it crashed, the editing software gave me another problem - when it imported a clip, it gradually desynced the audio and the video over time.  Identifying, learning how to fix, and fixing the problem ate up about a day of my weekend.  And right after I learned how to drive the metaphorical clunker, it died on me.  Oh well.  C'est la vie.