Sunday, April 17, 2011

Heart, Soul And Faith In Unexpected Places: Science Fiction

People like to think of science fiction as a very specific thing: aliens, robots, intergalactic battles with spaceships, etc... Very geeky stuff, devoid of any sort of compassion and soul. If it's not filled with enough explosions, then it's not worth the time.

The thing is: that's a fallacy.

I was reminded of this when Spike TV was airing the original Star Wars trilogy last weekend. It has all of the things I mentioned in my first sentence. The prequels, released 22 years after the first film, included even more of that: bigger battles, more exotic aliens, shoehorned robots, and suddenly the main characters can defy physics!!! A geek's supposed dream. Yet the prequel trilogy is universally considered inferior to the original trilogy. Why is that?

Star Wars didn't become a pop culture landmark because it had cool space battles and lasers. The story famously incorporates elements of the hero's journey, which has been found throughout human history. The central components of Star Wars are themes that we can all relate to: good vs. evil, parent/child relationships, redemption, destiny vs. free will. The science fiction is simply a setting to place these ideas.
The excitement and tension in the action sequences exist because we've thought about the themes ourselves and the stakes are as high for ourselves as the characters. We want to tell ourselves that the fallen can step back into the light. If good doesn't prevail in our entertainment, then what hope do we have in real life? On the other hand, the prequel trilogy tries to explain everything through biological/scientific processes: our destiny is set by organisms in our bloodstream. We're told this directly, leaving no room for us to apply what our hearts/minds tell us. The result: the action's only effect on us is to say "That's cool" (at best).

Speaking of biology, an ongoing battle that is being fiercely played out in society is creationism/intelligent design vs natural selection/evolution. One side routinely accuses the other of having an imaginary friend in the sky, while the other says the generally accepted science is meaningless. The novel, Contact, by Carl Sagan addresses the debate in an intelligent way (much more so than the movie - which is still good). Major spoilers ahead. The story focuses on an astronomer, Ellie Arroway, and how she leads the investigation into a signal picked up outside of this solar system. The signal is decoded into a set of instructions for a vehicle that leads to... well, nobody's sure. Who do we pick as human ambassadors? Ellie wants desperately to go, but is considered not representative of humans because she doesn't believe in a higher power. Circumstances lead to Ellie's selection and on the misson, she encounters a sort of intergalactic subway system and meets an alien taking the form of her father. The alien doesn't know who built the subway, only that some beings before the aliens species did. Ellie comes back to Earth, only to find a skeptical government: all of the recording equipment picked up only static the entire trip. Ellie, a person who always relied on tangible evidence for her own personal beliefs, can't prove what she knows in her heart to be true. There is a later implication that the entire universe has pi woven into its fabric, an indication that an intelligence built everything we know. It's rare to find material that addresses both viewpoints fairly and allows for them to be valid. Again, it's the setting that enables the conversation to play out.

Here's a few other quick examples (again, spoilers):

  • Inception has a famously ambiguous ending. But why people care so much if it's just a cool film? It's not the layers of mind-bending action. We care because we want Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio) to be reunited with his kids in life. We empathize with Cobb because he had good intentions in trying to bring his wife back from insanity and the result was her death. Even the core of the team's plan was an emotional play: reconciliation between father and son. 
  • Buffy The Vampire Slayer is not about a teenager kicking demon butt. It's about growing up and coming to terms with your life. Anyone who's seen the show enough knows that the antagonists are often metaphors for major life milestones.
  • Lost had a lot of viewers stick around to find out what's up with polar bears and time traveling. The ending was polarizing for not explaining these things and turning the finale into a class reunion/utopia dreamland. But the core of the show is relationships and character motivations. I admit to tearing up quite a few times throughout the series and the ending was fine for me.
Come for the spaceships and aliens. Stay for the insights and questions that makes us human.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

The Difference Between Rock And Rawk Music

"Coldplay is rock music for people who don't like rock music."

Apologies to where I picked up that quote for not attributing it properly. It's been a few years since I first came across it and it has stuck with me ever since. The quote is true in a way, if the definition of rock is loud guitars, crashing drums, and yelling vocals (i.e. "rawk"). Coldplay is primarily guitar driven and they have drums, so hey! To the casual listener, they're rock. But it's not real rock: the guitars aren't turned up to 11 and Chris Martin isn't too hoarse to have a conversation by the end of the show. No drum solo: fail. So says the rawk listener.

I've been reminded of this definition of rock over the past few weeks, as the Foo Fighters released a new album today. Having an obsessive fan in the family, I've heard a lot about how this is the Foos' rockiest album in years. They aren't a heavy metal band and don't scream all the time. Yet they invoke the rawk definition with a lot of their mannerisms - particularly front man Dave Grohl. Watch the first minute of this clip for an example of what I mean:



The truth is rock is one of the most versatile music genres. Wikipedia lists over 200 children genres. Yes, it includes rawk: things like blackened doom metal, sure to be filled with unintelligible lyrics and guitars that will cause damage the first time they come in contact with eardrums.

But outside of that extreme, rock in general is accessible to the vast majority of people. It encompasses everything from:

If we take out the guitar as central focus, we find Depeche Mode's Depeche Mode's dark electronics and LCD Soundsystem's much lighter electronics. It's true: a rock band doesn't necessarily need to be guitar driven.

Rock is more of a sensibility than anything else. Mainly, its an exploration of sounds on a journey where the destination is unknown. Rock is wide-ranging, open to new colors and feelings, and has a sense of discovery. Everything rawk isn't.


Friday, April 8, 2011

I am not an Apple shill, I swear!

I was asked: Does Apple pay me money? Apparently, I'm a member of the Mac cult and will defend Apple to the death. I'm not sure where this perception comes from and I think I've been pretty open on my feelings (decidedly mixed) on the issue. I'm going to try to set the record straight.

I own many Apple devices: iPhone 4, original iPad, MacBook. I haven't used a Windows PC at home in quite a few years. I'm drawn to Apple products primarily for one reason. I've spent a significant part of my life arguing that while technology does a lot of cool and great things, none of it matters unless it's usable and understandable by the non-tech crowd. I'm passionate that software should be polished. Every detail consistent with other details: if something works one way in an application, then other contexts with similar actions should have similar user interfaces and behaviors. There's little argument that is exactly what Apple provides: elegant hardware, intuitive operating system that anyone can operate.

The walled garden is a problem that mostly exists for power users and I think most consumers couldn't care less. Apple owns the end-to-end system because in its words they are unwilling to compromise the user experience. And believe it or not: this is not simply an excuse to dictate power over its users and developers. I've seen the difference between supporting software where everything is under your control and troubleshooting an issue where the cause can be in either your system or an external system. A mixed environment is by far more complex and harder to support, with a lot more time spent just analyzing, trying to figure out what went wrong and where. Not to mention that nearly all of the questions are fielded by one team.

With that out of the way, there are some serious issues I have with Apple:

  • Steve Jobs is an egomaniacal perfectionist jerk. There isn't a reason to treat people like he does. Leaders should be able to communicate their vision without resorting to intimidation.
  • Their recent in-app subscription policy has potential to either drive useful apps out of the app store or raise prices for the non-iWorld, which is bad for all of us. We could see no more native Netflix or Kindle apps.
  • No Flash on the iPad is a significant problem. When the device is touted as the best way to browse the Internet, and does not support the most popular video technology, then the experience is compromised. HTML5 is not here yet, and don't expect the entire Flash universe to be converted.
These bother me much more than the amount of space I gave to them indicates. I think it's because they all deal with how an entity (mis)represents themselves and on a basic level, fairness to others.  

I'm not a victim of the reality distortion field. I have not and will never wait in line overnight for an Apple product. Apple products will not save the world. I'm in their ecosystem because it meets my needs in that elegant package I mentioned earlier. But it's not a one-size fits all solution. Like anything else, it's all up to the individual. If it doesn't someone's needs, I will gladly tell that person to stay away from Apple. Spoken as a true Apple apologist, right?

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Nobody's Blogging Anymore (Except Me)

It's true. Or so I heard. Not only did I miss that boat, I'm late to the party on another front: the linked article was published four months ago. Typical me.

It seems that this is partially attributable to the fact that technology is enabling shorter attention spans: with an infinite amount of information being delivered to us in bite sized chunks and myriad of tools for us to communicate with those around us (also in bite sized chunks), we may be losing our abilities to focus. There's a reason why tl; dr is frequently used nowadays. Look no further than the rest of this post (to be honest, it's not that long - I think).

But there's something to be said about the written word in a form longer than a tweet or status update, when read at the right pace. There's a rhythm and flow involved in writing that goes two ways. The author organizes and paces their thoughts. If the reader goes too fast, they never make the connection with the author. Read too slow with days/weeks/months separating a return to the material, and even those with great memories lose the thread. But when the pace is just right, we become immersed in the thoughts and ideas of the writer, mentally agreeing or disagreeing with any commentary and coming up with our own arguments. With today's technology, we can communicate directly with the author, creating a dialog between with writer and reader. The role of the author is to simply frame the topic of conversation.

So, yes, this is primarily the umpteenth time I've created an outlet for thoughts I don't really have a forum for. But any and all feedback, comments, and rebuttals are welcome. Let's see where this goes.