Tenara wrote:
I have watched the trailer, and I did put myself in the place of the man on the stairs, but probably not in the way most people would imagine. My first thought when he told the man to clap his hands was to say, "You need to clap your hands too. We're singing this song together, so let's both take part." But then, without seeing the whole scene, it's kind of hard to know the situation. How did the man get in that position on the stairs? Did he try to get up? Did he try to at least get his legs under him? What I'm getting at is, in that situation, death is the last thing I'd be thinking about. I'd be thinking about how to get the gun away from the man. (Rather like when a car comes flying round the corner on a narrow road and my passenger asks if I saw the terrified look on the driver's face, and I reply, "I wasn't looking at the car, I was looking at the gap.")
Hi again!
The context of the trailer, in brief, is that the man who is truly alive (the "Manalive" of the title) is the man with the gun, who is dealing life, not death, to a professor whose professed philosophy of nihilism has led to the profession that 'life is not worth living' (which is not terribly far from 'life has no meaning*'). He puts the professor directly up against death itself to see if his philosophy will hold - if life is not worth living, then logically, one ought to welcome death - if the person truly believes what they are saying. (In the book, at one point he shoots but deliberately misses - it had been established that he was an expert marksman.)
I think that most people who profess a lack of meaning do in fact live as if there were meaning - and that faced with the reality of an ultimately illogical philosophy might (but no guarantees)
come to their senses in both senses of the expression, literally and figuratively, for the senses DO convey meaning to us.
AS to your own response to such a situation, it reminds me of Capt. Kirk in Star Trek 2: The Wrath of Khan, who had never faced death, but only cheated it. As something ultimately inevitable, the reaction of seeking to avoid it does not answer how to consider it when it finally comes and gets around all of your cleverness, dexterity and planning.
Tenara wrote:rusmeister wrote:Thinking about your comments, I would hasten to agree that we certainly do not welcome suffering and wish it to end as soon as possible. But when we 'hope that the pain (or anything) is over quickly', we also hope that the 'movie' will somehow continue. Otherwise, what does it matter whether it is over or not, if I am completely not, to experience either suffering or joy? Why does it matter if I studied Russian or not, traveled the world or not - what difference does any of my life make to me at all if I am dead?
If I cease to exist after I die, I agree that what I do in my life won't matter to me after I'm dead. But it matters to me now, while I'm living it, and that's plenty for me. I don't really understand this desire to find greater meaning in our lives. Isn't it enough to have lived? Isn't it enough to look back, at the moment of death, and feel joy in all we've done and experienced? If there's nothingness after that moment, we won't know anything about it, and we won't care.
This is the crux of what I have been talking about. When one comes to the point of death, one can see that it is NOT 'enough' to have lived (an action already in the past - that's the meaning of the present perfect verb tense - I'm an English grammar teacher). Only one who sees continuation (for whom life is NOT a completed action in that final sense) can logically use the word "enough". Again, it seems to me that people who hold this view really interpose the fact that they do NOT, in fact, at the moment face death and so will continue - and so, being 'satisfied with enough' or 'being grateful for what we have been given' (by whom?) is actually counting on continuation - it is NOT seeing the final end that this philosophy predicates; it is squeezing one's eyes shut to it.
Tenara wrote:rusmeister wrote:I have not yet been tested. And I fear that test. And so I am training the habit of faith - sometimes poorly, like now, sometimes much more fervently - I turn to God the quickest when things go very wrong - as they did a few weeks ago. But as long as things are going well, we don't need God. We are self-sufficient, and our practical philosophy of life (such as materialist improvement of my life here) works... until it doesn't work. When you get cancer, when your child dies, when the gun is pointed at your head and all of the things of this world are about to become dust and ashes - that, unfortunately, is when we tend to finally come to our senses (and some most unfortunately of all, not even then).
I hope that clears up my meaning a little.
Yes, it does, and this is where we very much disagree. I don't see death, or impending death, as a test. I see it as a natural consequence of life. We live, we die. It isn't about faith, or belief, or hope. It's about nature. It's about our bodies wearing out, just as the bodies of all creatures do, and being absorbed back into that amazing system that brought them into being. From the top of the food chain, back to the bottom. If consciousness is nothing more than neurons firing, death is just an end to consciousness, and I'm not afraid of that. I fall unconscious every night and my body's systems keep running. We call it sleep. One day, I'll fall unconscious permanently, and my body's systems will stop. We call that death. The only difference is in whether or not I wake up.
I feel sad when you talk about fearing that test that I don't think is a test because I don't think anyone should fear the inevitable. But I suppose that's something that comes of having faith, rather than just shrugging your shoulders and waiting to see what happens.
The trouble with ascribing meaning to the here and now and then supposing that it ends with one's death is an elaborate form of trying to have one's cake and eat it, too. Meaning is something that is ultimately NOT transitory. Even a dead language can mean something to anyone who learns it. Meaning is therefore NOT dependent on the existence of perceivers - it is transcendent; it exists even if there
is (present simple tense) no one to perceive it. Even my grammatical references convey meaning to anyone who has studied English as a foreign language, and do not depend on me or my consciousness for their meaning. Since meaning is transcendent, then it means something beyong my death.
A second problem - fallacy - is the ascribing of meaning to descendants - "Well, my meaning will go on with my descendants". This puts off the problem while never answering or solving it. The descendants must die, too, and so on to the death of the very last man. The basic problem of Norse theology is that
Gotterdamerung is a final end to the story, rendering it meaningless to anyone in the story - it could only have meaning outside the story, and in fact, does. Or put another way, "What is the purpose of hammers?" (Answer:) "To make more hammers." It does not answer meaning or purpose, things which MUST exist, or we could not even speak of the concepts (and couldn't even speak or think at all).
CS Lewis wrote:My argument against God was that the universe seemed so cruel and
unjust. But how had I got this idea of just and unjust? A man does not call
a line crooked unless he has some idea of a straight line. What was I
comparing this universe with when I called it unjust? If the whole show was
bad and senseless from A to Z, so to speak, why did I, who was supposed to
be part of the show, find myself in such violent reaction against it? A man
feels wet when he falls into water, because man is not a water animal: a
fish would not feel wet.
Of course I could have given up my idea of justice by saying it was
nothing but a private idea of my own. But if I did that, then my argument
against God collapsed too- for the argument depended on saying that the
world was really unjust, not simply that it did not happen to please my
private fancies. Thus in the very act of trying to prove that God did not
exist-in other words, that the whole of reality was senseless-I found I was
forced to assume that one part of reality-namely my idea of justice-was full
of sense.
Consequently atheism turns out to be too simple. If the whole universe
has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning: just
as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with
eyes, we should never know it was dark. Dark would be without meaning.
Mere Christianity
"Eh? Two views? There are a dozen views about everything until you know the answer. Then there's never more than one." Bill Hingest ("That Hideous Strength" by C.S. Lewis)
"These are the days when the Christian is expected to praise every creed except his own." G.K. Chesterton