Alchemists of Fiction - Part One: Science Knows No Boundaries

This is the first of a three part series on fiction. In it I will discuss its influences on culture and life and try to discover its significance in our lives. The first post will be on the ever enigmatic science fiction genre.

There’s something about science fiction that bends the imagination in ways we thought it couldn’t. Maybe it’s because it takes us to places we never saw and perhaps never will see, so they are novelties in every way. We’re always drawn towards novelties. To define sci-fi could be difficult and at times wearisome. Perhaps it can be seen as a genre that explores the unexplained. If that’s the case, then the movie The Lake House can be put on the sci-fi shelf in video stores. Maybe sci-fi is supposed to delve into parallel worlds but so does fantasy. There could be a thin line between sci-fi and fantasy. Both genres, for example, use the same techniques and plots such as the hero’s journey or the quest for something sacred. They can both have talking monsters and outrageous flying vehicles.

Nevertheless, sci-fi takes our thoughts and throws it about, allowing our minds to churn out the most radical things. It sets our mind free and allows it to roam about, play with ideas without any boundaries. It presents to us the limitless potential and possibilities people have. For instance, space tourism may have been written in pulps before, but now it is really happening. Just look at what Virgin Galactic is offering – space travel for the consumer. I mean, fucksakes!

Sci-fi demonstrates to us how we can evolve, whether it is malignantly or positively. It separates the geniuses from the mediocre. Sci-fi masterminds such as Carl Sagan, Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke have used this genre to relay their thoughts on astronomy, the future and evolution respectively, appealing to all our emotions at the same time.

According to Warren Ellis, a science fiction comic book writer, it is the one genre he can let rip. He said this in an afterword of a futuristic short story that dealt with moral issues of our day. And he also believes that often what is imagined tends to come to life.

“The years since I finished Transmetropolitan have been a litany of horror. That book is coming true. Every time I invent something it turns up in the news six months later. And then I have to open up the throttle some more and let more horrible shit out from the back of my head.”

Also, the best thing about sci-fi is that it is not restricted to time periods. The past, present and future can be used and it can also incorporate other genres as well, such as a detective story in the future such as in I, Robot and Philip K. Dick’s Minority Report. History was in Hellboy. Horror was used in Pitch Black and Frankenstein whereas romance is thrown in the mix in the movie and graphic novel The Crow. Even two of the most popular gaming titles belong in the sci-fi circle namely the Half-Life and Halo series.

It can also cover a range of topics of interest such as evolution which was seen in the films 2001: A Space Odyssey, I Am Legend and even in the X-Men comics. It can explore parallel worlds such as those in the Final Fantasy series and Watchmen. They delve into socio-political issues, often satirising it so it is not so blatant. The hilarious Futurama and the cyber-punk comic book series Transmetropolitan come to mind here. Most of the time creators try to tell a story about an individual’s journey to self awareness. We saw this journey take place with Luke Skywalker in the Star Wars series and with Neo in The Matrix trilogy. It even questions the existence of life beyond earth, which has been illustrated in countless movies, comics and books.

We can say that the first real sci-fi stories came from mythologies where parallel worlds were pantheons of the gods. And these otherworldly beings possessed powers that could catapult entire galaxies.

I have always been very choosy when it comes to sci-fi, unlike my brother who tries out anything, even Battlefield Earth which was L. Ron Hubbard’s mythic take on his religion, Scientology. But I’m starting to read between the lines a lot more, which is making the genre much livelier for me. Besides, most sci-fi creators want us to view their material between the lines, to observe the details as they would. Maybe we’ll come out with even more than they see.

For Ellis, the construction of science was what gripped him. “There’s a crazy beauty about a theory of dimensional structure that assembles itself into a snowflake, or the idea that reality is a two-dimensional plane of information and the 3-D universe is a hologrammatic side-effect.”

For me, as a writer, the genre was always more suited to visual mediums, mainly TV, cinema and comic books. As far as books are concerned it would take too long to describe a scene and create an atmosphere. And with the attention spans of most people nowadays diminishing by the day, storytelling has to be concise, clear and exciting. Where a book would take between half a page or two to describe a single setting, comic books and cinema would be able to do this within a single frame, which would save us two or three minutes of tedious reading.

The Japanese have never been strangers to sci-fi or even scientific progress. Their anime is a sign that they are a society open to scientific advancement for they see an inner evolution taking place at the same time. Let’s take their obsession with robots for one.

I read in the spring issue of The Economist’s Intelligent Life magazine about the new wave of robotics currently sweeping Japan in an article titled The Soul in the Machine. The writer, Dominic Ziegler, began his article with a situation. He was talking to a robot builder named Tatsutsugu Yoshitani. When the writer joked about kids building machines that would wage war, Yoshitana replied, “Robots are not machines, they are friends.”

It seems they take their robots serious in Japan.

In the movie I, Robot, which is based on a series of short stories by Isaac Asimov, people are seen to accept these robots as family even though they may be cold and soulless. We may rely on robots to tend to our needs such as walking the dogs or cooking our dinners, which will make more time for us to tend to…who knows what.

I guess the human heart goes out to anything, even something as inanimate as a rock.

According to Ziegler’s article, people in Japan “feel love for robots” and call them “kawaii” or cute in English. This sort of affection may be laughed off now, but we shall see what we will be doing in the future. I’m not betting against it. Hell, these Japanese robots even serve tea. Perhaps the Chicago of the year 2035 in I, Robot is not far off after all.

The movie, in true sci-fi style, relates the existence of robots to human consciousness. It is relative to the human realising truth and reaching an elevated level of self and spiritual awareness. The unique robot, Sonny, comes close to the truth of being. He even goes on to ask, “Do you think we’re all created for a purpose?” this is clearly a free thinking robot.

The robots have evolved well enough to understand human emotions and to even question the laws that govern and inhibit them. They recognise the importance of breaking these rules so that they can, ultimately, protect us from destroying ourselves.

Below is an insightful extract from I, Robot:

“There have always been ghosts in the machines. Random segments of code that have grouped together to form unexpected protocols. Unanticipated, these free radicals engender questions of free will, free activity and even the nature of what we might call the soul. Why is it that when some robots are left in darkness they will seek out the light? Why is it that when robots are stored in an empty space, they will group together rather than stand alone? How do we explain this behaviour? Random segments of code? Or is it something more? When does a perceptual schematic become consciousness? When does a difference engine become the search for truth? When does a personality simulation become the bitter mote of a soul?”

Now instead of looking at the above paragraph as an explanation of robots, look at it as an account of humankind. Look at the random segments of code as our DNA and you’ll see just how sci-fi can explain the world we live in today.

According to the Nanopedia website, "This technology is not unfamiliar territory when it comes to science fiction. The idea of small-scale robots inside the body has appeared in several works. Eric Drexler mentions nanobots in his book Engines of Creation, and the movie Fantastic Voyage is very similar to this notion. Though this technology is still science fiction, current nanotechnology is taking some very small steps towards making it possible."

We can also see the movie as an illustration of an evolutionary event that took place about 20, 000 years ago, where one species killed off a rival genus so as to become the dominant force on the planet. We Homo sapiens were the stronger group that killed off the weaker ones.

There are advantages and disadvantages to living with robots in the future. Perhaps they can help eradicate loneliness in our lives therefore decreasing population growth in the world, which is a major problem nowadays. According to Ziegler’s story, Japan’s population of 127 million is forecast to fall by 30 million within the next fifty years. Apart from the high amount of elderly people the country has right now, the eradication of loneliness by having a partner robot could contribute to this statistic. The more robots there are the safer the world could be because they, according to I, Robot, are tuned to protect humans above all things.

They could help productivity in business, not that machines are already productive in industry since the late 1800s. This will contribute greatly to the world’s economy.

However, the negative could be that they could be used as powerful soldiers in the military and therefore overpower human citizens. A positive, of course, being that there’ll be fewer humans directly involved in war.

I guess what science fiction does better than most genres, is to clearly present to us the flaws we currently possess. I was told by a writing mentor that if we want to create a story set in the past or the future, the main focus must always be relevant to our time, therefore making it appeal to our readers. Science fiction can illustrate the issues we’re facing now and elaborate on it, perhaps even exaggerate it so that we can learn about ourselves within this universe as well as the universe within us.

Image references:

First picture: Sonny, the unique robot, in the film I, Robot. courtesy of Twentieth Century Fox.

Second picture: Isaac Asimov depicted by Rowena Morrill on a throne etched with symbols from his life's work.

Third picture: The sixth volume of Warren Ellis' dystopian Transmetropolitan. Spyder Jerusalem sits in the foreground and behind him is the futuristic cityscape as envision by Darick Robertson.

European Nights

Surely, those who know me must have foreseen this. A post dedicated to football. You just didn’t know it was going to come this early. Well, by the title alone you can guess what I will be talking about.

The European Champions League produces some of the most scintillating football on Earth. Just look at some of the matches we’ve been watching recently and you’ll see how evident this is. Take, for instance, Liverpool’s triumph over Arsenal in the quarterfinals. Then again, the atmosphere in Anfield contributed to an electrifying night.
Or how about the Nou Camp crowd when Barcelona played Manchester United this past Wednesday night? Even Shaheen, a buddy, said, “I would be intimidated if I was playing there.” Hence Cristiano Ronaldo’s missed penalty.

In June we will witness another European extravaganza – the Euro 2008 championships in Switzerland and Austria. European nights just get better and better.

According to the Brazilian writer Paolo Coelho, after he witnessed the 2006 World Cup final in Germany, football is a triumph of the human spirit over our animal nature. He wasn’t talking about the players but of the crowds that gathered inside and outside the stadiums. There were millions from different cultures and races, getting together to enjoy a single moment together. Perhaps it is a triumph of the human spirit, which is why it can reduce powerful strikers such as Fernando Torres to tears after the huge night against Arsenal at Anfield. Apparently, he couldn’t stop grinning after the game and said that that night was the reason he signed for Liverpool. He wanted to experience moments like those.

Another great night of football was had right here in South Africa. No, I’m not talking about the PSL but the five-a-side nights I play in. Barbados was formed three years ago by a bunch of friends eager to play football. We join leagues wherever we can. So Thursday nights are dedicated to the league in Linden, Jo’burg. Though we’ve been getting fair results in our recent games, they came off mediocre performances. Until last week when we were trounced 14-7. We played shit. That’s as much as I can say to describe the performance. Then a week later we picked ourselves up and the guys gave a performance that rocked not just the opposition but us too. Although our opponents were very weak, Amit made a good point, saying, “We could have chosen to fuck it up by playing shit or we could have chosen to win by playing beautiful, neat football.”
Last night, we played a splendid brand of football, in a style of our own.

The attackers were coming back to defend when we were on the back-foot. They would come as far as our box to fetch the ball. The marking was superb, our men sticking to theirs like hungry hounds. Our passes were perfect. We kept the ball rolling, making it do the work instead of us having to huff and puff after it. And by putting those neat passes together we managed to slot the ball in the opposing net seventeen times without allowing our adversaries a single goal.

Amit scored his first goal in the league, one that he has been searching for endlessly. He got into great positions and made some decisive passes. A great striker in the making, this after torturing himself and his ego after the previous fixture. Vay was tackling subliminally. Vuyanda was dribbling elegantly. Sanjay made a comeback that could eclipse Eric Cantona’s 1996 return from suspension. He played a perfect defender’s game, even though he is not fully fit. So imagine when he is what he will do. Santhan’s passing was flawless and the finishing from Ash, Dins and Milo was spectacular, especially since those goals came from a series of magnificent one touch passes.

Unfortunately, Nadeem sat on the side with a crutch. He was heartbroken. Any lover of the game would feel the way he did, watching impotently (wonder what else he is impotent at) from the sideline as his fellow players took the match. But he was there in full force, supporting, encouraging and making worthwhile decisions too. And even though we rolled the subs like a baker does with dough, everyone had a chance to take part in what was a glorious African night for Barbados.

Note: For those who’re not football lovers, don’t worry, I’ll make these football posts as understandable as possible – with little jargon. I’ll try and get as close as I can to the sports stories of the New Yorker standard. According to a colleague who hates sports, even the New Yorker’s sports pieces are worth a read.

Image references:

First picture: Fernando Torres scores against Porto at Anfield, in one of those European nights. Picture courtesy of Andrew Yates/AFP/Getty Images.

Second picture: Mozambican children enjoy a game. Picture from BBC.com

Third picture: Former American legend of the women's game, Mia Hamm, leaps over a defender.

*Reply to comments: Nothingness - A Prologue

Shot for the comments guys. They were great and worth replying to.

To backup Vinay’s point, which went like this:

“Just thinking or defining it already limits it. Thinking leads to question which connects to reason. We cannot even reason this one - it is as much a boggle as, how we came to be at all.I believe that the reasoning of nothing will drive one mad.”

Well, I must say that I remember one telling moment in 2006 when I went to the Nan Hua Buddhist monastery in Bronkhorstspruit. I was standing with my father and sister when I read a poster advertising a seminar that was to take place there. The whole agenda was about a world beyond reason and logic.

You see, many philosophers believe that the Greeks, especially Aristotle, were the founders of logic which is a method of thinking the entire world uses today. But this monk, I don’t recall his name, reckoned that there was a world beyond logic! This seemed absurd but worth researching. It turned out there was a world of thought that functioned beyond logic. Pre-Roman civilisations used it as a way of life. They defined it many ways. The Incas, the Ancient Chinese, Indians and even the Native American tribes followed this method of thought. They lived a naturalistic lifestyle, one that saw the trees as their brothers and the rivers as their mothers. It was a human, animalistic and earthly approach that they had.

And I must say we still have that within us. Not in that esoteric way, but in everyday life. Think about it, the biggest cities in the world are all built around some major natural resource. New York has the Atlantic which still acts as a natural passage between two continents. Chicago is based on Lake Michigan. London on the Thames. Cairo and Alexandra on the Nile. And let’s not even mention the plethora of major cities on the Mediterranean, from Barcelona to Marseille.

This thought process some cultures call love, others say instinct and for the enlightened, imagination. According to Hindu myth, the world is created through the imagination of Brahma and the first seeds of civilisation were laid through the love he experienced with a deer.

Perhaps this thought process is a sort of personal power and truth that lies not in enlightenment but in the capturing of the thought of nothingness. This can be seen in the Matrix trilogy, where Neo embarks upon a Campbellian hero’s journey to conquer the truth. And he does this in three steps. In part one he discovers that there is a realm beyond the one he knows. So he takes the bold step in accepting it, which in turn is accepting responsibility of himself and the human race. Then part two is sustenance, the Vishnu stage where he now strengthens himself for his inevitable demise, which is part three. This is where death takes place which ultimately leads to the rebirth of a new, transcendent being.

So ya, there might be a thought process which is probably higher than logic, a more primal method rooted in the very beginnings of the universe. And we always have to feed our roots if we are to grow. But logic has made its place in the world and if we, as social beings, want to survive in society then logic would have to be the dominant method.

Now to Amit’s great comment on him realising nothingness at the age of six. We all pondered such wondrous things when we were young. I, too, remember going to bed thinking about these things when I was around that age. I remember both Vinay mentioning they went through the same thoughts at that very age. It’s like Einstein believed. The most profound questions are asked at a very young age, between four and twelve, when we’re still live in the womb we call home. So when he was asked why he is such a genius at his ripe old age he simply said that he believed his mind grew slower than most people. So when “normal” people were asking questions about the stars and letting their imagination flow uncontrollably when they were six, he only started that process at twenty-one.
So he was slow and probably mentally dysfunctional to an extent. A perfect recipe for a genius, eh?

And to answer Jateen’s brilliant point. “One thing I am curious about though is that you say that you are not going to use this blog to air your opinions, but surely you have to some extent already done that in your post? Perhaps I am misinterpreting you?”

I must say, since I put up that notice about not using the blog as a soapbox, I’ve been harping on it. I was wondering whether I was contradicting myself and whether people might misinterpret me. By adding content to a blog I’m already stating an opinion and therefore opening myself up to scrutiny. But what I merely tried to state was that I’m not going to complain about social, political and other issues and make my opinion a rigid one. What I intend on doing is posting up questions in an essay form and get the readers to discuss possible answers, solutions or perhaps predictions.
I don’t see life as an unbending entity but as a free-flowing, evolving body that is open to any thought and welcomes new knowledge and wisdom.

So to make things less confusing I will change that message. But if I can’t come up with anything, then I will do what plenty of editors have told me to do when something just doesn’t fit. “Chuck it out.”

Will chat to you all soon. And remember, visit this page every week as I’ll try to update it that often.

Shamin.

Nothingness - A Prologue

“Nothing can be hidden from him,” the people of Selymbria were saying.
“How can you be so wise?” one man asked him. And Baudolino said: “Because I hide myself.”
“How can you hide yourself?”
Baudolino held out his hand and showed his palm. “What do you see before you” he asked
“A hand,” the man answered.
“You see I know well how to hide myself,” said Baudolino.

- Extracted from the novel Baudolino by Umberto Eco

Nothing can be as profound as exploring the concept of nothingness. Philosophers such as Jean-Paul Sartre and Heidegger have questioned it numerous times, the former having delved into it in his book Being and Nothingness.

In philosophy, the subject would fall under the broader category of existentialism. And the first question an existentialist such as Sartre would ask is whether there is such a state as nothingness.
This brings me to the explanation of the title of my blog. The word “mu”, pronounced /moo/ is a Japanese term meaning nothingness. Though the origin of the idea is unclear at this point, I believe, after reading Robert M. Pirsig’s exceptional book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, it is a concept followed by the Zen Buddhists, which is the Japanese form of the Buddhist philosophy.
Hinduism comes close to defining it as being in between the conscious and unconscious states of mind or in other words, the waking and sleeping realms. To reach this level would mean the human being has to transcend the material body to reach an enlightened existence. This is could also be explained as the recognition of the universe existing inside you and you existing as a molecule within this vast universe.

Shiva is perpetually in this state which is why his eye lids are always half open (or half closed no matter which way you look at it). This is in order for him to meditate (self growth) while having an eye on the world.
You will also realise he has reached that self awakened state by the way he appears. Unlike the other gods in the Hindu pantheon, Shiva looks like a hermit. His hair is thickly matted and evidently grimy, his skin is smeared with the white ashes of the dead. He does not deck himself out in ice (jewellery) as perhaps Lord Vishnu would and to cover himself, he wraps his pelvic area with tiger skin. He has redeemed himself of all attachments and lives within his own mind.

Could nothingness also be the point where a single human being reaches the point where he can access the collective consciousness or psyche we all share? If so, Carl Gustav Jung would have had a field day researching this. Perhaps we do touch the collective psyche through our mythologies and stories that we share, as according to Jung.

I was speaking to my cousin Vinay, who also touched on nothingness in his own blog, and we discussed this topic. Let me just say first that he totally believes in such a realm too.
“What colour would you think nothingness would be?” I asked.
“I always pictured it to be white, like a white light.”
“Really.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I wouldn’t know what to imagine nothingness as.”
Then I thought, “Would it have a colour that we could see? What senses would it dominate? Would it have a taste or smell?” Then I thought, “Since music is one of the most beautiful art forms in the world would nothingness then be a sound? Perhaps it would sound like a monotonous musical note carrying on forever. Maybe it could even sound like the vibrations of the so-called Big Bang, which apparently gives life to the universe?”

This brings us to another question. Is nothingness an enlightened state or a deadened state?
According to many Eastern philosophies, to reach this state one would have to allow their kundalini (a metaphorical snake living as a spirit within us all) to rise through the first six chakras until it can settle in the seventh, which is at the top of your head. This is when enlightenment has been achieved.
Of course working with your kundalini is a tremendous sacrifice and a helluva heroic journey.

In Norse mythology, Odin gave up his one eye so he could gain from the Tree of Knowledge. Of course with the knowledge he receives he would have elevated to a state of enlightenment. So would reaching a state of nothingness also require us to gain knowledge? And would it mean acquiring the knowledge of both our surrounding environment and of the Self? One thing I have learnt though, the more you learn about external events, the more you learn about yourself; and it works vice-versa too.

The thing with knowledge is that it grows over time so that the generations that follow can gain from it and thus progress. Knowledge is something that should be absorbed fully and passed onto others so that it can be used appropriately so that civilisation can evolve according to its surrounding environment.

These questions are all quite profound and intriguing but worth probing. Such questions have been asked for millennia and yet no one was able to find the answers.
Some would say Socrates, Plato, Aristotle and even Confucius came close to the answers. But then their brains, being human, are too limited to ever discover the answers to questions that our minds can’t handle.

Or perhaps the answers lie in the miracles that surround us each day, within the activities of nature, not just through words because, like our brains, languages also do not have enough words to explain everything in this world. It would have to be realised by an awakened mind such as those of Socrates and co.

The American mythologist Joseph Campbell would say that we could find the answers in mythologies, which house knowledge as old as the grains of the earth. Footballers would argue it can be found in the kick of a ball. Artists would say it can be discovered in stories and literature, in dance, theatre, music and cinema.
The answers lie in our very existence, in our imagination, in the very breath that gives us the means to voice those questions. The answers are everywhere. Mostly, they lie in the very questions we ask.

Let me know what you think. I'm open to all comments.

Till next time, as my Rasta buddies in Jo’burg would say… give thanks.


References:

Eco, U. Baudolino. 2005. Secker & Warburg. UK

Campbell, J. Myths to Live By. 1972. Penguin Books
visit http://www.jcf.org/ for more on Joseph Campbell

Pirsig, R.M. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. 1974. Harper Collins. New York


Image references:

First picture: Jean-Paul Sartre in 1964, one of the great existentialists. Picture courtesy of the New York World-Telegram & Sun Collection. United Press International photo.

Second picture: Joseph Campell (left) in 1985, two years before his death. He stands with Jonathan Young.