Why modern movies are terrible

When it comes to shitty behavior in modern films, there’s few more egregious offenses than bringing back established, well-known, heroic characters — beloved by generations of moviegoers — and systematically degrading, discrediting and destroying not just who they are now, but everything they once were: usually in a desperate attempt to elevate some cheap, soulless carbon copy replacement that lacks everything which made the original so appealing in the first place.

See Why Modern Movies Suck – They’re Destroying Our Heroes.

Also Why Modern Movies Suck: They’re Written by Children

Both those videos are worth watching in their entirety.

Russell Brand, the global mind, totemic figures and zombies

Several lines of thought have been converging recently.

I’m listening to Global Brain on Chirp. It’s a strange book. The basic idea is that intelligence and mind extend beyond the individual in surprising ways. Some examples, like communications among bacteria, or flocks of birds, seem reasonable. The group is far greater than the sum of its parts. Some of the author’s conclusions seem a little more fanciful. But it’s interesting stuff.

Recently I heard someone riffing on the significance of the popularity of zombies. The idea is that we’re collectively telling ourselves something — e.g., that we’re afraid of losing control, or that individuality is dying, or … something. I forget the details. (I believe it was in the most recent Jordan Peterson podcast.) But I agree with the general proposition that popularity means something, and can point to a larger issue.

And then, along similar lines in the video below, Russell Brand speaks of Biden and Johnson as “totemic figures.” I’m putting words in his mouth, but it’s as if the collective consciousness is screaming at us that something is very wrong with the way we organize ourselves. (Who can argue with that?)

By the way, I continue to be impressed with Russell Brand’s videos. He’s very intelligent, and very funny.

Review of “Faith and Reason” edited by Brian Besong and Jonathan Fuqua

The subtitle is Philosophers Explain Their Turn to Catholicism. I was hoping for a lot more philosophy. It was mostly a collection of conversion stories of people who happen to work in philosophy. If you’re looking for a philosophical treatment of faith and reason, this is not it.

Edward Feser and Brian Cutter dive into some philosophy, but not in the depth I was hoping for.

For example, Feser says, “arguments developed by John Searle and other philosophers of mind convinced me that none of the existing attempts to explain the human mind in materialist terms could work.” Okay, but can you summarize those arguments for us?

Feser also said this, which everyone should memorize:

You cannot be confident that you have given an idea a fair hearing until you make a serious effort to understand how a rational person could find it plausible.

Following up on that concept, he mentions how the pedestrian replies to Aquinas (e.g., “Aquinas: everything has a cause, therefore there must be a first cause, who is God; Critic: then God has to have a cause, ha ha ha you dummy”) completely misunderstand what Aquinas is saying. Also, any response to Aquinas that implies he is stupid shows conclusively that the critic has not understood Aquinas. When you think an argument worthy of your average 8-year old overturns somebody’s position, it’s almost a dead certainty you haven’t understood that position.

I learned this lesson myself when, after telling a ditsy Catholic that Jesus said “call no man Father,” she said, “Really? I’ll have to tell my priest that.” As if the priest had never read that passage, and didn’t have an answer to it. I realized in a moment that until I knew how an educated priest understood that passage, my argument was garbage.

Anyway, Feser’s essay is worth reading, but isn’t nearly long enough.

Cutter is also worth reading.

He introduces a label I hadn’t heard before (although I was familiar with the concept). He says a “Moorean truth is ‘one of those things that we know better than we know the premises of any philosophical argument to the contrary.'”

For example, there are some things I know that I could never doubt: I exist, I have first-person experience, I make choices. There is no argument that could possibly dissuade me from those beliefs, because the premises of those arguments could never be as certain as I am of those fundamental facts.

Like Feser, Cutter touches on the things I want to hear more about, but doesn’t satisfy.

I was struck with a strong and sudden conviction that consciousness obviously isn’t reducible to physical processes, that subjective experience is clearly something quite different in kind from the movements of matter, and that by officially committing to reductive physicalism about consciousness … I was just lying to myself.

And ….? Please go on.

In general, I am often surprised at the stupid arguments otherwise intelligent people believe. All the writers in this collection of essays are smart people, but all of them also said things that caused my pencil to scribble “silly” or “oh, come on” in the margin. Which brings me to an argument for Catholicism that occurred to me as I was reading this book.

Your average Protestant pastor — i.e., one from an intellectually rigorous tradition — not the “just believe it, man” type — often feels the need to have answers to objections. But this is, quite frankly, madness. If you spend a few weeks studying the question “what is an ecumenical council?,” you will realize that you could spend half your life trying to answer that question. And there are 10,000 questions like that. The idea that Rev. Smartypants can give an adequate answer to all objections is a delusion.

If he has any sense, he realizes he has to fall back on something. And what is that “something”? It’s the judgment of a community.

You know, I can’t answer that question, but here are some other people you might consult.

A Protestant can do the same, to some extent, but note the important difference. A Protestant has to decide — in his own judgement — whether he should stay in communion with Denomination 107.214. It’s hard to come up with an over-riding principle that says “I can trust the community of 107.214ers.”

The Catholic priest can point to other sources which might not even be correct (how would he know?), but which are still in his communion. He doesn’t have to wonder, “Oh, crap! Is this one of those questions I can’t answer for myself that might ultimately undo my decision to hitch my wagon to 107.214?”

This illustrates what people don’t understand about Martin Luther’s position on James. Luther knew that the Gospel preceded the Scriptures, and that the Scriptures had to be judged based on the Gospel, and not the other way around. He believed justification by faith was that Gospel, and used it as the rule to judge what should or should not be in Scripture. James didn’t teach justification by faith (so he thought), therefore it didn’t belong in Scripture.

So there you have it, right? Here’s a rule of unity. Everyone who believes in “justification by faith” has the Gospel and is part of the church.

Is that really the way it works?

Anyway, most Crowhill readers shouldn’t bother with this book. Although I would recommend looking up Feser’s treatment of Aquinas’ five ways. That’s my next study.