Parable Part Deux

The most interesting thing I learned in the rest of the Parable story was the dramatic shift from traditionalism to modernism to almost a neo-traditionalism. I know the story spoke of post-modernism and the post-industrial era, but, to me, it seemed a hell of a lot like the traditional values and culture that was mentioned earlier in the story. So, I will stick with the new term “neo-traditionalism.” Hopefully, I will allude to what I mean by that through the rest of this blog.

Much of what is referred to as the age of modernity and this period of emphasis on the individual seem to correlate well with the United States up to post-World War II era. There was the advancement of technology and society for the sake of efficiency, the close-knit, yet diverse city, and families working to pay the bills, not to live. All of this was mentioned in the story. The move toward a more conforming society that focuses not on the helpfulness or efficiency of an item, but the look and “hipness” of the item epitomizes the United States post-1950. With what I know of American History, the growth of suburbs and Levittowns started during the 1950s. The movement of the wealthy and even upper-middle class society to these excluded, conformed areas is a vivid depiction of the conformed, amenity-competitive society depicted in the Parable.

Now, the reason I say it is more neo-traditionalist is because this movement brings traditional values to modernity. There is still the emphasis on the hierarchy, as seen through wealth and possessions. There is still the emphasis on wasteful display, such as cars that look nice but get about a mile to the gallon. So, the realm of post-modernity represented in the Parable is essentially the traditionalism of the canopy pre-‘knocking down trees,’ but with a modern twist to it. Display is much more accessible now, so these post-modern elites have to step their game up, as the kids say these days. But, the post-modern elites work through the capitalist system, and ultimately benefit from the capitalist system, in order to accomplish their crave to waste.

Another interesting item was the mention of post-modernism focusing on the inherent bad quality of the present and the ever-growing worse quality of the future. Along those lines, the emphasis on the dystopia rather than the utopia. I found this a bit shocking because I am a big fan of dystopic novels and am hoping that I could one day write one. Also, I have just gone through and read 1984 and Fahrenheit 451 for the first time in awhile and have a copy of Animal Farm sitting on my desk. Not to mention the fact that I plan on watching V for Vendetta shortly after writing this blog.
I would not say that I believe the present sucks compared to the past or that the future is a horrible place. I do, however, have a fascination with the theories and ideas behind the novels and movies involving dystopias. George Orwell criticized much of the world’s actions through his novels, but I do not think that he particularly believed the future was a grim and horrible place. I do not, however, believe in a utopia, or a utopian future. Utopia is, frankly, an ambiguous term.

Parable of the Monkeys

The most interesting thing I learned from the Parable of the Monkeys story was the simplicity of the situation. It seems a bit hard to me to be able to condense political and social backgrounds for the world in the past thousand years or so down to twenty pages about monkeys. Personally, I do not see how the story would have worked with any other animal than the monkey, because gerbils just do not seem like the type to be hierarchical. I always pictured them to be humble folk.

Back to the idea of the simplicity. If I had to sum up the vast changes in society since the colonization of the New World, this would definitely be on my list of witty metaphors and anecdotes to choose from. The idea of the transitional, hierarchical madness that dominated life for so long is pictured perfectly in the single, isolated status of the monkeys in their tree’s canopy. And this idea of modernity, too, is pictured with the cult of individuality and the intertwining of trees where one man (or monkey, in this case) relies on others to live. There is no longer the emphasis on producing enough to live, thus constricting the way of life. Instead, the world (or trees) is a much freer place with more opportunities for action and interaction. And even a little room for monkeys that can fly on rockets.

The story really fits in with the reading we have been doing in the larger section of class. There were the monkeys who refused to let go of their traditional beliefs, mirroring the Virginians who stayed loyal to the hierarchy and aristocracy of the crown. Change presented conflict for these traditional beliefs, so people (or monkeys) were forced to break from these traditional, and thus constraining, ties in order to live. Monkey separatists (which rolls off the tongue) mirrored, in a way, much of colonial America. There were probably fewer witch trials in Monkey City, though. I would like to make a reference to the game Monkey Island somewhere in this bit, but I just cannot seem to find a proper location. Which is probably why I just put it in the last sentence.

Another key element of the story was the isolation of the monkeys. This isolation forced them to find their own set of beliefs and, thus, their own representation of society; god. Each society of monkeys had different views, yet maintained certain core monkey values (endowed by their monkey Creator and protected in the Bill of Primate Rights) despite their isolation. This really keys in on the difference between religion not only between colonial America and motherland England, but also within the colonies themselves. The Anglican god differed greatly from the Puritan god. The Great Chimpy also happened to be a bit different from Bozo the Great (though the latter sounds more like a clown name than a monkey god name).

Overall, it just seems like a matter of adapting to modernity. Traditional values alone cannot be sustained in the modern world. Times are a’changin’ and the rigidity and firmness of the traditional world prevents it from blossoming in the modern world. This story really seems to show that in a simple, grade-school level (though the kindergarten version should have Care Bears or something).

Do Geese See God? Religious Biography

Religion has always been an interesting subject to me, primarily because I have never had a real answer to satisfy my questions. I personally claim the title of deist when it comes to religion, and I find great pleasure in making fun of most religions. Which isn’t really fair, because it’s easier to make fun of religion than to actually discuss it. The idea of God, or some form of deity, actually came to me at a young age. I never went to church nor were my parents religious to any length. My mom claims to be agnostic and my dad was raised Methodist (as were his parents). My grandparents on my mom’s side went to several different churches, but I recall Lutheran sticking out for a while. Regardless, during my youth I can never recall going to church or hearing of any of my grandparents going.

Back to this idea of God coming to me at a young age. Since I had not been in contact with religion during my younger years, I honestly didn’t know of Jesus or Mohammed or any of that. However, the notion of a deity was easy for me to deduce. If my limited knowledge can’t explain something, then there must be something out there that does. It doesn’t take much imagination to think of something out there doing things that aren’t comprehendible. I originally thought that this deity must interfere with life constantly, perhaps even control it. As I got older, this notion seemed silly and I’ve come more to accept the deist notion of an impersonal deity who has no presence here. It wasn’t until about a year ago during AP US History that I finally got the name “deism” to go along with my beliefs.

My personal take on religious probably differs from others. In fact, I’m sure it does. The Ye Gods thing claimed that a deity was the collective pure form of a society. A moral, ethical, and ideological epitome of society. Personally, I accept that notion, but also add another notion of my own. Not only is this deity looked up to as the shining example of society, but also I believe it offers meaning. People generally go through life looking for meaning. A reason to live. The meaning of life (which is a good movie, by the way). When this notion of meaning isn’t evident, I believe people turn toward outer-worldly means, such as religion, to give them this notion. It isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but I don’t like the idea of being told what your meaning is. Personally, that is something that has to be discovered on your own.

As for religion as a whole, I understand its importance (why else would I be taking this class?). I don’t see anything wrong with having a set of morals or ethics to look toward. I also don’t have a problem with believing in whatever you want to believe. It just bugs the hell out of me when people try to impose their religion on others, whether done subtly or blatantly. I have had people tell me that I will go to hell because I don’t follow their faith. Such a nice thing to say to someone, isn’t it?

I am personally waiting to see how religion turns out during my lifetime. It can’t change too much, but there has to be some subtle differences that will dictate its path in the future. I personally hope we move toward polytheism again. Poseidon was always the coolest god, hands down.

Ye Gods, or not Ye Gods

The entire Ye Gods powerpoint deal was pretty interesting. With some good hints of hilarity, as well. Perhaps the most interesting thing presented in it was the slow shrinkage of Gods/deities in society. It seemed to make sense, honestly. Conflicting arguments cannot continue to exist forever, so it is only natural that they would find a way to resolve themselves. It reminds me of these Vonage commercials, someday someone will crush Vonage for making stupid commercials. I'm not sure if that metaphor follows correctly, but my hatred for Vonage at this moment prevents me from making sense.

I digress. This continual shrinkage and increased vagueness of gods and deities makes me wonder what the religious realm of tomorrow will look like. The hardcore religions that are strictly by the book just simply cannot exist in the world of tomorrow. At least, that is the way I see it. I think people will continue to look toward books and scriptures for moral advice and perhaps some consoling, but strict interpretation of most religious books just does not seem possible to me. Especially with the information age shaping up as it has been. That and liberals!

It makes me think that tomorrow's deities will just be strict moral/ideological examples. And I think that people will acknowledge that they are just examples. With the way things are going now, I'm sure Paris Hilton will be the "devil" figure to tomorrow's religion. I don't have anything to back that claim, but when I think religion, I think of everything besides Paris Hilton. Maybe Jesus will get a cool makeover. Maybe even the return of Black Jesus? Chances are other religions will ruin it though.

Now that I think of it, it would be cool to organize a religion of my own. It would be pretty hard, as the Ye Gods thing pointed out. Getting an entire society to find my creation the moral and/or ideological perfection and all that jazz. A pure-bred, so to speak. My pure-bred moral creature would have to look like Frankenstein. He's a pretty misunderstood guy, but I would definitely worship a gigantic freak who could rip me in half...using one arm. Imagine if you got a lot of people worshipping that! The sheer holy power would make Vonage disappear!

I can dream, can't I?

Church Visit

The most interesting thing I learned was that church (Roman Catholic) is irresponsibly lame. This is my thesis statement (this is my way of sticking it to the system). It was like an aerobic musical at the old folks home. I should have known better, because it was a dreary, rainy morning; bad omen. Entering the church, I found it a bit disappointing. First off, I have not been in a church save for the few funerals and weddings I have had to witness over the many years. But when going to church on a Sunday, I half expected to see God standing at the door to greet me. Oddly enough, God looks a lot like Merlin to me. Long beard, wizardry, flowing robe, striking pose, gnarled staff, pointed hat, etc. Boy was that a let down.

A friend of mine recommended the balcony seats, because that is apparently where God’s rebels sit (i.e. the cool kids). However, I had never been in the church before, so I ended up sitting in the back to avoid detection. The rosary was going on, which scared the living daylights out of me. It was far too much conformity and synchronicity for me. It was a bit repetitive and people kept staring at me for not praying, like I was some dirt worshipping heathen (which I am). Upon looking around, I notice a stained glass window of Jesus, who is oddly pale and sickly despite his Middle Eastern heritage. I actually thought about asking someone if they couldn’t get the right shade of brown or something, but I chose to stifle myself.

Slowly but surely, I am being surrounded by ancient and chronologically advanced elderly folk. Mass begins and trying to take notes is pretty hard with all the standing and sitting and what-have-you. Some greeting process begins, forcing me to talk to half a dozen people who are at least sixty years older than me. Shaking their hands is like grabbing a hold of death and telling him what a lovely rainy miserable morning it is. I don’t want to tell anyone that I’m merely a spectator in the gladiatorial realm of God.

The process of church became very predictable after about the first fifteen minutes. Pray and sing, pray and sing, pray and sing… Then the priest man (or the Holy Enforcer as I call him) asks the children to leave the room for something (hopefully not groping or any of that stuff). I don’t even bother looking at any of the hymnbooks or even attempting to show interest in what is going on around me. It’s not really a case of me lacking respect for everyone as much as it was a severe case of being lazy. I have to read for college, I’m not going to read in my free time. That’s for squares.

Anointments followed, which was a hilarious experience. First, the priest took the time to explain how Jesus was touching people through him, which almost made me laugh. Maybe Freud was right. Next, the priest made it crystal clear that he would do anointments in sections, starting with the middle and ending with the side that I happened to be sitting at. There was no way anyone could mess this up. Now allow me to tell you how someone messed this up. People from the first section went up as they were supposed to, but two old women sitting in front of me decided, “Hey! I want first dibs on the Jesus juice! I don’t have to wait for these people.” Apparently these ladies were racists or something, because that’s how I just portrayed them in the previous sentence. Seeing as I still have another page to go and I’m running out of material/made-up happenings, I’ll go into more detail about the anointing process:

The priest did take time to talk about the anointing process about drawing crosses with his thumb on people’s foreheads/palms with oil. He must have been doing it for my knowledge, because everyone else in the church seemed to have a pretty good idea of what was going on. Only the sick and feeble-minded…I mean enfeebled were suppose to go up. I was tempted to go up and tell him I had a mean cold sore that was bothering the Dickens out of me. The whole process took a good fifteen to twenty minutes to get over with. During all of this, I pondered if Jesus invented the beard. Even if he didn’t, he clearly invented the sideburns. I don’t know why.

More hymns. Catholics seem to be a pretty musical group. No wonder Jesus was a super star. Or maybe that was just a movie I saw. And the constant standing and sitting annoyed me. Wouldn’t it be easier to just stand and do all the prayers in one big Jesus prayer-block? Then there was peace, which was foretold by the priest saying ‘peace’ every three seconds. I have already shaken the hands of the people around me, but now I’m supposed to do it and say ‘peace’ to them. It has magical powers. Again, it was weird touching the hands of people who probably voted for FDR…the first time.

I lost consciousness somewhere after this and regained it around communion. Well, I just lost interest in what was happening around me and gave up listening to the priest after the whole peace shenanigans. The presentation of communion started on Monday and ended on Friday. It honestly should not take that long to throw some awful wafery cardboard to people. That and some jerks in the beginning slurped too much Jesus wine so none was left for the slackers in the back. Real mature. I chose not to partake in the communion process because the idea of drinking from a cup that fifteen people who were born in the Cretaceous period had slobbered all over didn’t arouse my interest. That and there was probably a few half eaten wafers floating around in it. And wiping the glass off with a towel doesn’t make it sterile. I’m no scientist, but I think I have that one figured out.

Interestingly enough, I went to the bathroom during communion. Normally I wouldn’t talk about stuff like this, but it was part of the experience. First off, some pantless kid was running around unattended in the bathroom. For some reason, the idea of pantless children in a church didn’t shock me. Then I pondered if it was all right to actually urinate in God’s house. It just seemed a bit disrespectful to me at the time. It didn’t stop me, of course, but I did give it some thought. It’s the thought that counts, or at least that is what people tell me.

In retrospect, there should have been a big sign in front of the church that said, “Get ready to be bombarded with Jesus!” Or maybe, “Be prepared for a blitzkrieg of Jesus!” Church is certainly something that I don’t enjoy, and that discomfort grew substantially in the hour I sat in there today. It’s not that I disrespect religion (though I’m sure it looks that way), but I’d prefer to have my Sundays open for important stuff, like sleeping and doing homework that I have left stacked irresponsibly high over the past week. In conclusion, Roman Catholicism isn’t my cup of tea (read as sacramental wine in this case). In further conclusion, go Steelers.