Thursday, August 21

On Sacrifice

It's been a couple days since photojournalist James Foley was killed. I usually don't have much to add except my simple sympathies when this sort of thing happens; he seemed like a great guy, but I didn't know him personally or anything like that, and I always worry about "politicizing" it more than perhaps respect would warrant.

But comments I saw out on the internet a few times got me thinking: the comment was, "That could have been any one of us." And this is just so wrong and disrespectful that I feel I need to vent a little.

It's an okay sentiment at best, one of solidarity with the family, but it entirely discounts that James Foley was badass. And not like katana-wielding-badass: he shot things only with his camera, and his curiosity and bravery going into war-zones armed only in that manner amaze me. I have not done anything like that in my life, to be sure, and I admire him for his conviction and caring. He cared for the peoples' stories, and made friends even among his captors. Truly badass.



But the people commenting "it could have been us" aren't even other journalists, mostly (and I'm not referring to the ones who use the phrase in that manner). The people I saw commenting were... white American Christians. And that was the "us" they meant. James fit this broad category (as do I, it's that broad), as he was a Catholic whose faith motivated him deeply... but that's not all that's required to find oneself killed by ISIL. No, for that, American Christians might have to get off their butts and care about what was going on halfway around the world. They might have to be able to interact respectfully with other cultures and religions and take an approach other than advocating carpet-bombing cities ISIL currently controls. It would require a sense of daring beyond what I possess, for sure.



The goal with the comment, then, was basically trying to take ownership of what is not theirs. It is in the context of making jingoist, hawk-ish statements about what our military response should be. It is in the context of trying to paint all Muslims as ISIL minions, and obscuring the (many, many) other people of non-Christian faiths that ISIL has also killed, not to mention all the civilians in those cities who've found themselves suddenly behind enemy lines. This is why I said it disrespects Mr. Foley, and why I believe it is an unChristian sentiment, somewhat ironically - it is tribalist, it is stuck on violence, and it tries to take from his sacrifice and pretend like the speaker would be as brave or noble in death as he was. The difference is that Foley was brave and noble in life, as well, and lived out his faith by going and doing and caring. Let us aspire to that, for ourselves, and take risks to learn other people's stories. Otherwise we're further from being James and closer to being ISIL, just with different hats, killing indiscriminately due to ethnicity or nationality or assumed religious affiliation, and perpetuating a bloodthirsty religious feud.

Friday, July 25

On fandoms and Christianity

So it may be surprising to hear but I'm not really a fan of anything. Not to say that I don't like things - shows, sports, bands, etc. - because I do. But I don't really go out of my way to get or wear merch of any sort; I've never gone to a Con, and even for shows I do like that have pretty strong fans (Firefly, Star Trek) I've never gotten involved with fan sites or those communities.

Why is that? I guess part of me is just very even-keeled - my highest levels of enthusiasm manifest themselves in a pretty tame fashion. It isn't repression; I'm just not that excitable or high-strung.

But a big part of it, also, has to be that fandoms have scared me off a bit. Not to say that all fans are bad, but rather just that I've never felt that liking the same band or show necessarily gives me all that much in common with other fans.

As a case in point: I am sort of a Brony, in that I am a grown man who likes the latest version of My Little Pony. It's a funny show. And at first, I could like it without that feeling that much weirder than just the normal "isn't it silly that that dude likes a girls' show." But the word "Brony" has come to have some crazily bad connotations, thanks to some guys who were into the show for all the wrong and creepy reasons. So now it's hard to say I like the show without, in the back of my mind, thinking, "gosh, I hope my friend doesn't think I mean it like that."

So yeah. Some few fans can ruin things for everybody, which stinks. This isn't a reason not to like those same things, but rather a reason I've had a hard time being gung-ho about joining fandoms. SDCC is going on right now, and it seems like an awesome time - but between my natural inertia and the above sort of disconnect from fan communities, I've just never felt a strong desire to go. Which might be sad in some way, but I don't think of it as a failure to be true to myself or anything like that. It'd be a chance to meet Adam Savage, Wil Wheaton, Felicia Day, or Phil Plait - who are all awesome individuals - but I guess it's still in that area of "it'd be cool to hang out with them but I don't feel a particular need to own a signed photo of them."

In the same way that I'm not afraid to admit I enjoy My Little Pony or OITNB or Star Trek or Boston or Janelle MonĂ¡e or Nostalgia Chick or F1 or Gone Home or Firefly or Tomb Raider, I also still will tell people I think Jesus is cool. The term "Christian" has, rather like "Brony", come to be associated with creepy men and co-opted by people who really do not do a good job embodying the foundational principles involved. It's sad when the original messages of love and kindness, humility and honesty, generosity and... fun(?) don't seem to be passed onto the fans... I'm still talking about Christians, I think? Anyhow.

I try to still use those terms and redeem them a bit, but I'm also careful to do so usually in a context with people who already know me and have some context. Maybe that guardedness is why it's hard for me to be a fired-up "fanboy" but I guess I can only hope people don't mistake my lack of tribal identifiers for a lack of appreciation or love for the source material.

Tuesday, July 22

On fantasy worldbuilding and the end times

Made-up worlds say a lot about their author. When thinking about the setting for a fantasy (or sci-fi) story, be it a novel or game or movie, it's easy to get bogged down by the scope of what one is trying to do: namely, nail down a new universe's-worth of rules, from laws of physics to supernatural entities. 

Is there magic in this new world? A "Force"? Some cosmic battle between good and evil in the backdrop? It's tough to decide. Sometimes a setting leads the course of the story, even. The new Dragon Age games, for instance, have the player fighting demons - and this poses many philosophical and moral questions. (Like how do "Sloth Demons" or "Rage Demons" relate to laziness and anger management in general?) More importantly, it's meant that the stories the series is telling have tended towards the black-and-white. Things are either demon-tainted or not, to the point that the most recent sequel is subtitled "Inquisition". This seems to be a common slippery-slope in this sort of fiction - you may set out to tell a story about palace intrigue or coming-of-age, but if in the backdrop you have demons that can possess people, it's a pretty safe bet that you'll end up with an Inquisition or the like.

As a second example, in a Legend game I've been in recently, we came across a witch. Blood magic, that sort of thing. Needless to say, the group of good-guys ended up killing the witch - but we've been very hesitant to tell the local authorities that there looked like there might be more than one, for fear of starting a witch hunt.

Some stories run with this on purpose: in the Warhammer 40k universe, there is a galaxy-wide Inquisition going on and it is a massive dystopia of constant war against aliens and demons. This is why my personal feeling is that no good stories can be told in 40k: it makes for great table-top miniature gaming but the setting is fixed, unchangeable and hopeless. Perhaps the one realistic part is that there are no "good guys" per se - every faction, including the original Space Marines, have crazy fanaticism and have committed countless atrocities during the fighting.

For contrast, part of what makes Tolkien's original stories great was their side-stepping of these cosmic struggles. Sauron is evil, no doubt, but opposing him is done mainly via virtues and inner strength, and not mere conflict and victory through greater military might, say. Tolkien's villains choose evil, and power, and darkness; they are not inherently demons or even all past the point of redemption. Most importantly, Tolkien's stories start and end in normalcy, which I think is key, but we'll get back to that in a second.

Thus there are two ways to go on this issue when building a world. Black-and-white cosmic struggle, which can, in the end, really only end with a purge. Or, a world with a lot of gray (or a small enough scope), so that villains are still human, and life can go on peacefully on the whole. Some stories are easy to classify, others walk the line a little (though mostly these are merely delaying the inevitable demon-slaying). Some look like one, but are really the other: Star Wars is a gray universe, despite the Light and Dark Sides to the Force. Game of Thrones, conversely, looks gray, and certainly has enough factions, but in the end somebody's going to have to deal with those zombies White Walkers. There's no live-and-let-live there.

So which are you and I living in? You had to know I'd get to that question eventually. And it's a little cheesy to say "both", I know, but I think that's going to have to be my answer. I think there are two factors here which make both sorts of stories resonate with us:
  • We are surrounded only by fellow humans to interact with (other than the general environment and forces of nature). This makes it seem like a very gray and small setting - none of us will ever slay a demon, and the "inquisitions" we have had in the past have been atrocities rather than victories for Good.
  • We also know about Good and Evil, though, and the Christian mythos at least has supernatural entities, and a hope that eventually evil will be banished from our world and only peace and good and love remain forever. This does seem to necessitate an apocalypse of sorts.
The key is in what we humans can actually do to influence and participate in these areas. In a video game or most fantasy settings, swords (and guns, sometimes) can kill demons and dragons and all kinds of evil or mindlessly destructive things. This means that people can participate in the aforementioned apocalypse. But here in the real world, we've only been given power to affect other people. Sure, Christianity has the concept of "spiritual warfare", by which is meant merely prayer and being virtuous - but resisting those sorts of demons is not done with violence. Quite the opposite.

So we're caught in the middle. It'd be easier in some ways if we could interact with the world as in some of these games, where Evil is always incarnate and defeated with a level-appropriate weapon. But no, we're stuck with living honest lives with integrity, loving our neighbors, and even loving our enemies. The apocalypse may yet come, and 2/3 of heaven will vanquish the other third - but a suit of armor or a gun will do you no good at that point. Those stories are fun to read about or play through in a game, but too much real-life violence is motivated by people living in a fantasy world where somehow injuring each other achieves a higher good. This isn't video-games making people violent - this is an age-old tale of people wanting to be the hero in their own story, and dehumanizing others to make it possible.