We are developing the social individualist meta-context for the future. From the very serious to the extremely frivolous... lets see what is on the mind of the Samizdata people.
Samizdata, derived from Samizdat /n. - a system of clandestine publication of banned literature in the USSR [Russ.,= self-publishing house]
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US blogger Jim Henley has some interesting thoughts about the politics of ace science fiction adventures series Battlestar Galactica. In my typically languid British way, I have just about started munching my way through series 2, which I find rather dark and depressing compared to the excellent series 1, but I am savouring the programmes even so, and looking forward to the third series, already now showing. My addiction to this series is worse even than Babylon 5 or, to roll back the years and to a very different genre, to Blackadder. The acting and the plots are consistently enthralling and entertaining.
It got me thinking about drama and storytelling more generally. If you tell a certain type of person that your favourite television show is Battlestar or Firefly, you are sometimes put in the ‘geek’ category, but it seems to me that in terms of quality and ability to describe the human condition, SF television shows can hold their own with the most pretentious dramas. In some ways, they are the final redoubts of romantic realism in drama.
Now, I wonder if that guy on the Tube was a Cylon…
[Editors note: for some previous thoughts on Battlestar Galactica on Samizdata, see here]
“It had always bothered him to see waste; to see Gas Giant atmospheres not mined for their wealth in hydrogen; to see energy from stars spill into the void, without a Dyson Sphere to catch and use it; to see iron and copper and silicates scattered in a hundred million pebbles and asteroids, instead of a smelter or nanoassembly vat.”
– The Golden Age, by John C. Wright, page 261.
In whatever shape England emerges from the war […] The intellectuals who hope to see it Russianized or Germanized will be disappointed. The gentleness, the hypocrisy, the thoughtlessness, the reverence for law and the hatred of uniforms will remain, along with the suet puddings and the misty skies. It needs some very great disaster, such as prolonged subjugation by a foreign enemy, to destroy a national culture
– George Orwell in The Lion and the Unicorn
But we live further from Orwell than Orwell from Bismarck. The current rulers of England are keen on uniforms, inspectors, permits and controls. (In 48 hours: “Ports and airports to get to discipline young offenders: Home secretary considers community work uniform.” The replacement for the Child Support Agency [not authoritarian enough], “will wield extra powers to punish parents who fail to pay, including evening curfews to prevent fathers going out after work, and having their passports confiscated to stop them taking foreign holidays, and even the threat of prosecution and prison”.) Law is treated with contempt if it gets in the way of the state’s priorities. (Last week the Home Office revealed its ideas for Serious Crime Prevention Orders, to be used to control the activities – such as telephone, travel, banking or internet use – of “known criminals” without the evidence necessary for an actual criminal prosecution.) The prohibition of suet puddings has yet to be ‘put out to public consultation’ (which is how we would know the matter had been determined). But it can only be a matter of time.
I saw Terry Gilliam’s Brazil again last night. I had not for a long while. Seen just now, its aptness to New Britain is shocking. More surprising, I think than the utter submergence of Orwell’s gentle, un-Prussian England. We knew, in petto, we had lost that.
How long before we see official signs pronouncing “Suspicion breeds confidence” and “Help the Ministry of Information help you”? Eh?
I am just having a relaxing weekend out of London. Dublin (and Ireland in general) is a delightful place, and is perfect for a relaxing weekend. The absence of immigration controls between Britain and Ireland means I do not have to spend an hour and a half in the non-EU nationals queue when I get back to London, which is also good. I have been to other parts of Ireland, but somehow I find I have not been to Dublin since 1997, which is far too long. I am presently in a cafe just off Grafton Steet, which has properly civilized free WiFi, and I have been reading Vernor Vinge’s Rainbow’s End in cafes and bars and airports. It is good, but not as overwhelming as A Deepness in the Sky. Vinge is amongst the greatest sf writers currently writing, but I do not think it is quite one of his major works. I will reserve judgement on that until I reach the end of the book.
An episode of Dr Who last year was based on the idea that there was some sort of cosmic energy source in Cardiff, and the Doctor and Rose (as well as the villain of the story) went to Cardiff to in some sense feed on the Energy source. This idea that some places are special, and have deep religious significance and healing properties, or special magical powers, or are the locations of gateways between universes or similar, is of course one which exists throughout religion, mythology and fiction. But when I wander around a city looking for a WiFi hotspot I am struck by the sense that it has become in some ways literally true. WiFi hotspots are places where the magic of the modern world works in a way that it does not in other places. I am fully connected to the world, whereas when I am outside one I am restricted to using cellular networks, which have bandwidth restrictions and pricing systems that are generally so clueless that I am unable to use them in the way that I would like (well, if they are not clueless they are so determined to not lose their voice revenues that there are lot of services and pricing schemes they simply will not consider). This gets much worse when I am outside my own country and I have to pay idiotic roamng charges. Recent studies have actually tended to suggest that for people paying their own bills, reducing roaming charges actually increases revenues rather than reduces them, because halving the cost causes to speak to people for more than twice as long. However, there is again a “We do not want to lose existing revenues” factor, as the majority of revenues presently come from business users who do not pay their own bills.
Of course, it is not an original observation that computers and magic are similar in peculiar ways. Programming a computer is almost literally the same thing as casting a spell. You write down words, and things happen in a real world as a direct consequence of the words you utter. A program is an incantation. You get the words even slightly wrong, and bizarre and unpredictable things happen, just like in so many magical stories and legends. Computer hacker lore is full of references to wizards, and demons, and gods.
Arthur C Clarke wrote a long time ago that “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic”, but I think even he failed to predict the extent to which this has, almost literally, become true (Vinge of course understood this before anyone).
I can not imagine that WiFi hotspots being special places will last for long though. We are going to have ubiquitous and fast wireless data networks almost wherever we go before long, just as we already do for voice networks. Finding a place without the equivalent of a hotspot is going to be like finding a place without cellular coverage – not all that uncommon, but annoying.
By the way, I am in an outlet of a chain called Cafe Java, which in addition to free WiFi and what looks like rather good food, has a fine tea selection as well. There gets a point where I have had enough coffee, and switching to green tea (which is what I am drinking now) or similar is my preferred approach. I wish someone would open one of these near where I live, or indeed a chain of them all over London.
Also, what in the name of Allah is that giant vertical silver thing that has been erected in the middle of O’Connell Street?
As a bit of a diversion from fretting about Britain’s slide into a police state, take this quiz and see which sci-fi series you would be most comfortable in. Perhaps not surprisingly, Firefly turned out to be the one for me, followed closely by Battlestar Galactica. I feel comfortable about that. Thank goodness it was not Star Trek.
(Thanks to Glenn Reynolds for the pointer).
Captain America is probably remembered as one of the worst films spun off the Marvel franchise. Whilst the film wrought untold damage to the origins of Steve Roger’s alter ego, it did strike one historical chord. In the comic book, Steve Rogers is a sickly individual, denied the chance to demonstrate his patriotism, until he takes the serum that transforms him into a super soldier. In the film, Steve Rogers is a polio victim, perhaps the only plot device that provides some insight into the historical context of Captain America and the rise of the superhero.
The definition and origins of the superhero are traced back to the nineteen-thirties even though there are a number of forerunners in the pulps. The genre coalesced around costumed heroes with a variety of powers, often enhanced beyond human norms, who had strong moral codes, a secret identity and fought off evil in a variety of guises, usually the enemies of World War 2. The cultures that informed the origins of superheroes came from both contemporary sources and Judaeo-Christian narratives.
Superman’s backstory was Biblical in tone. Richard Donner, director of Superman, recognised the parallels between the Man of Steel and Christ, as referenced by Anton Karl Kozlovic, in his paper, “Superman as Christ-Figure: The American Pop Culture Movie Messiah”, published in the Journal of Religion and Film.
However, many years later, Donner gladly admitted to the Christic subtext: “It’s a motif I had done at the beginning when Brando sent Chris [Reeve] to Earth and said, ‘I send them my only son.’ It was God sending Christ to Earth.” It was a dramaturgical decision that made good sense, for just as Superman was literally a super-man, Jesus was “the ultimate Super Jew of his day,” the “Christian super-hero,” the pop culture “God with us” (Matt. 1:23). Indeed, many Jesus-Superman parallels exist within S1 and S2 because both films were planned, scripted and partially shot back-to-back.
Whilst Superman bundled biblical myth into a new package, Steve Rogers as Captain America transformed another demographic. We forget the large numbers of the debilitated and disabled who suffered from a young age with consumption or polio during the interwar period. The sickly Steve Rogers is a recognisable figure from the Depression, and his transformation acts as the inclusion of suffering invalids into the superhero myth and the war effort. Superman is an alien but Captain America is drawn as an everyman, and a patriot.
It is possible that superheroes would never have acquired their longlasting popularity without the war. The diverse backdrops that authors used to appeal to as many readers as possible proved an important innovation. Yet, just as the new pulp genre of science fiction showed that the horizons of plausibility were widening, the Macguffins deployed by the creators of superheroes hinted that such transformations were not too far away for humanity itself.
One of the oldest themes in science fiction writing has been the idea of eternal youth. Robert A. Heinlein wrote arguably the definitive book on the subject, Time Enough For Love, which I have read several times. Poul Anderson’s The Boat of a Million Years also takes eternal youth as a driving theme. And in recent years techniques such as cryonics have been in movies and books such as the interesting crime thriller Chiller, by Sterling Blake.
One of the most recent treatments of the issues of anti-ageing and its impact on society is Peter F. Hamilton’s Misspent Youth, which like a lot of his books is set in the near future in deepest Cambridgeshire, where he lives. I rather like that. He projects an age, set about 20-odd years from now, where our understanding of genomics and nano-delivery of medicines has partly halted the ageing process and also made it possible for some very rich folk to have decades removed from their lives. It also raises issues that are extremely relevant now: such as what happens to tax-funded state pensions if people live for far longer.
Hamilton nicely shows how a father – in his 70s in Earth-time – has decades wiped off his physique and how this affects his relationship with the rest of his family and friends. I love the twists and turns of the plot, showing how the main character, Jeff Baker, has troubles dealing with his teenage son and family. The story works so well since the technology is kept to a minimum in order not to intefere with the human story.
Hamilton also holds up a picture of an England now totally absorbed in a Euro-superstate, while much of human life is now subject to draconian environmental laws regulating things like transport and energy use. There is a violent British separatist movement and culture dominated by fear of risk and danger. Yes, it does not become all that long before one realises that Hamilton ought to be writing for this blog. If he is not a free-market libertarian then I would be very surprised.
No prize for now guessing why not much blogging got done today…As Paul Marks got his review up first, I will content myself with just a few observations about Joss Whedon’s magnificent Serenity.
It is what the last three Star Wars movies were trying to be but failed. Serenity has an engaging story, good direction and brilliant writing (it is a tour de force of quips and memorable one liners) and as Paul points out, it is extremely sound politically.
It is also very well cast, with Nathan Fillion truly marvellous as the charismatic Captain ‘Mal’, playing it every inch the Wild West hero (for this movie is nothing if not a Western which just happens to be set in outer-space). Also convincing is the bizarrely named Summer Glau, whose strange looks and lithe moves are well suited to the demented character she plays.
Highly recommended! Run, do not walk, to your nearest cinema. Do not wait for the DVD!
When first hearing of the film Serenity, people are most likely to say something like “it is made by Joss Whedon, the man who made Buffy the Vampire Slayer”.
This is true and the film does indeed have some touches that are in tune with this – for example a young women with unusual fighting ability, and characters who sometimes talk in a flippant way at very serious moments (although, of course, people sometimes do talk that way at very serious moments).
However, Serenity is rather different from “Buffy”. It is a serious science fiction film (yes there are such things) rather than a fantasy work (although I have nothing against fantasy works).
Serenity is based upon Joss Whedon’s short lived science fiction series “Firefly”.
It is about a group of people aboard a space ship named “Serenity” after the battle of Serenity Valley in which the Captain of the ship fought – on the losing side.
The ship is a borderline economic case, often in need of repair and the Captain undertakes jobs that are semi-legal or downright criminal.
The crew are a ragbag of people of different backgrounds and temperaments, brought together by a mixture of their own choices and force of circumstances.
In the film many of the questions raised in the series are resolved.
The film is also a good piece of work, well plotted, well acted and well filmed.
It does have some of the problems that plague so many Hollywood productions today – such as a tendency for people to say too much and too quickly (this may be hard for a British audience especially as many of the characters, unusually for an American film, speak with southern-western accents indeed more than accents, they use different words than people in the metropolitan areas of the English speaking world normally do now – although one of the experiments that Mr Whedon makes is to try and explore how ways of speech would change, and change back, over time).
However, what is interesting from a political standpoint is the basic story of the film.
The characters are lead, for a variety of reasons, in to a head on clash with the government – “The Alliance” its Parliament and those who serve it.
They are not fighting the government because it does not spend enough on welfare or education, or because it does not issue enough fiat money (indeed many people in the outer planets do not accept the government’s credit money, it has to pay in cash even some of the security forces who work for it), nor are they fighting the government because it is a selfish or corrupt dictatorship.
No, in the end, the characters are fighting the government because it wishes to create a better, more civilized world (or rather worlds) and because it is prepared to violate the nonaggression principle in order to achieve this objective.
Of course the film is not “realistic” all the time (even if one accepts the existence of technology that we do not have yet and people who hate science fiction will not do that – although there is less “high tech” stuff in this film than in most science fiction films). Some of the characters, sometimes, win fights that they most likely would not win.
However the basic feel of the film is realistic and good people die. The “baddies” have noble motives, and some of the “goodies” are far from saints.
The characters do not destroy “The Alliance” but they try and do what they can, and the film shows they are right to try.
Joss Whedon is sometimes considered a baddie because he does not like President Bush, and I certainly doubt whether he would call himself a libertarian (although there are not many reasons why a libertarian should like President Bush), but Mr Whedon could call himself a Maoist for all I care – he has still made a libertarian film.
And every libertarian (and non-libertarian for that matter) would be well advised to go and see Serenity.
“I’ve had enough of running…It’s time to misbehave”.
“Mal” Reynolds, captain of the very excellent Serenity.
Take my love, take my land, take me where I cannot stand.
I don’t care, I’m still free. You can’t take the sky from me.
Take me out to the black. Tell ’em I ain’t comin’ back.
Burn the land and boil the sea. You can’t take the sky from me.
Have no place I can be since I found Serenity
But you can’t take the sky from me.
– Joss Whedon
I just saw Revenge of the Sith with a group of chums and I must say it was interesting to see how varied the reactions were. For me, anyone looking for profound meaning in a George Lucas movie is well and truly in the wrong place. With that in mind I went expecting breathless fights, awe inspiring battles between vast starships and Padmé Amidala (Natalie Portman) wearing interesting outfits. And that is exactly what was delivered.
Lucas is at his best when the battlecruiser starships are blowing the crap out of each other whilst the heroes weave their nimble fighters in and out with guns blazing in cheerful disregard of the laws of physics. He also knows a thing or two about choreographing some pretty nifty lightsabre duels. The Yoda vs. Palpatine showdown is a particular eye-popper… who would have thought a 2 foot high gremlin could actually look plausible in a swordfight!
But, and you knew there was going to be a ‘but’, when it really comes down to it, George Lucas is just not that skilled a director. He does fine until it requires people to actually interact other than when they are trying to slice each other in two. At which point he proves that he can produce weak performances even from a splendid actress like Natalie Portman (who was from good to great in everything else I have ever seen her in) and Ewan McGregor (who is debatably my favourite actor). The ‘doomed romance’ between Natalie Portman (Padmé) and Hayden Christensen (Anakin Skywalker) is central to the whole story of the creation of Darth Vader and yet I could not escape the impression that neither of them really cared for each other, for which I mostly blame Lucas’ leaden hand more than the actor and actress in question. Ewan McGregor is a splendid Obi Wan Kenobi when it comes to laying waste to the bad guys with his lightsabre but again, when it comes to his relationship with Anakin, it all seemed a bit unengaged. Only Ian McDiarmid (Palpatine) really managed to transcend the stilted feeling of much of the dialogue and sound like he really meant when he said.
And although I said one does not go to a George Lucas movie to seek profundities, there was one rather splendid line uttered by Padmé whilst in the senate chamber listening to the delegate enthusing whilst Palpatine seizes power to ensure ‘justice and security’:
“This is how freedom dies. To thunderous applause.”
Pity the rest of the movie did not have more such memorable lines. 7.5 out of 10, mostly for the sheer spectacle.
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Who Are We? The Samizdata people are a bunch of sinister and heavily armed globalist illuminati who seek to infect the entire world with the values of personal liberty and several property. Amongst our many crimes is a sense of humour and the intermittent use of British spelling.
We are also a varied group made up of social individualists, classical liberals, whigs, libertarians, extropians, futurists, ‘Porcupines’, Karl Popper fetishists, recovering neo-conservatives, crazed Ayn Rand worshipers, over-caffeinated Virginia Postrel devotees, witty Frédéric Bastiat wannabes, cypherpunks, minarchists, kritarchists and wild-eyed anarcho-capitalists from Britain, North America, Australia and Europe.
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