This 3-parter marked the beginning of the short-lived (but oh, so technically savvy) Battlestar Galactica series which aired on television in the late 1970s. What amazed me when I first watched this show as a kid were the special effects, which at that time were almost movie-like. What amazes me when I watch it now is the realism. More than I ever did watching Star Trek, I FEEL as if I'm on the Battlestar or flying in one of those fighter jets at unbelievable speeds. The battles seem real, the explosions seem real, and the logistical gymnastics required to send fighters into space from what is essentially an extraterrestrial version of an aircraft carrier come across as VERY real. I even like the battlestar design (efficient, functional, and aesthetically pleasing).
The overwhelming trauma of watching an entire civilization die around them is palpable in the words and actions of the characters as well, all of whom are well-acted, and I think this has something to do with the fact that Lorne Greene was one of the 4 male leads in the series. I could feel the gut-wrenching horror, depression, and shame that the characters face in this 3-parter as they are transformed--in a matter of hours--from proud citizens of a twelve-planet civilization to fugitives escaping the destruction of everything they have ever cherished. Oddly enough, Apollo (whose farewell line to his brother struck me as one of the coldest lines I had ever heard--come on, man, your brother is making the ultimate sacrifice for you so that you can warn the fleet, and all you think of is "You can fly with me anytime?") captures this transformation eloquently when he says, "We're starting over."
Despite the overwhelming merits of "Saga of a Star World," the 3-parter does have two drawbacks (not including the ridiculous decision by the Imperius Leader to hide his ship behind the planet Carrollon when it is in the process of exploding--guess he didn't read the technical reports on the mineral his civilization was mining there . . . ): First of all, we have a character whose job description is "socialator." This is a term that is utterly meaningless in and of itself (which I suspect was the producers' way of getting around Broadcast Standards and Practices back then), but in the show, it is pretty obvious that a "socialator" is, in fact, a prostitute. This is not necessarily bad (I don't have any qualms about showing prostitution--or any of the other sins man has invented--on national television), but once again, we see the "liberated" culture of the 1960's sexual revolution (which by the time Galactica first aired had become the culturally dominating force of the 1970s) influencing the way that certain practices are portrayed on the small screen. Cassie's trade is not only presented in a positive light here, but she and Apollo's sister appear to be in a contest to win Starbuck's sexual advances. Most importantly, both of these activities are presented as normal and even positive, and this is something that a Christian television watcher should be aware of.
More importantly, with the introduction of a robot named "Lucifer," we see the beginning of the otherworldly arc within the Battlestar Galactica series. I'll write about this arc in more detail later, but suffice it to say, the interpretation of Christian names and concepts throughout the show should ring hollow to anyone who has a passing knowledge of the Bible. Obviously, the show's producers want to paint an image of a ragtag remnant of humanity (or is it a ragtag remnant of the "righteous?") fleeing the clutches of the devil, which is strangely evocative of the "party line" version of early Mormon history (as well as a few ragtag fringe cults that have sprung up over the years). To use the '70s parlance, I dig where the producers are coming from here, and I respect anyone who is sensitive to spiritual concerns. However, as a Christian, I know that my Bible says nothing about a remnant being pursued by anyone (much less the devil)--only that God will preserve a remnant for Himself (that is, the people through the ages who have been born again in Christ Jesus). The trials, tribulations, and terrors are for THIS life, not the next one.
This may all seem like nitpicking--after all, as I used to say whenever I encountered arguments like this one, it is just a TV show--but what I am trying to illustrate here is that what we watch on television has an influence on us--especially when we IGNORE that influence and passively take in what we are seeing. Television, especially when our children are exposed to it, is a teacher--a teacher of morals, a teacher of history, a teacher of science, and a teacher of spirituality--and however hotly this teacher's message may be dismissed by those of us who are parents, it is certainly not lost on our children.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Star Trek: Mudd's Women
This is perhaps one of the sleaziest episodes of television ever to air, primarily because it was so overt in its content and themes. The Enterprise essentially rescues a pimp fleeing in a smaller vessel with his "cargo"--3 women who are (for all practical purposes) prostitutes. Bio-genetically "enhanced" to be super-attractive through the use of an alien substance, the women drive the men on the ship to distraction before serving as their pimp's means of extorting the Enterprise. The Enterprise's fate, of course, rests in the captain's ability to attempt to convince 3 ecstatic miners to tear themselves away from their new brides long enough to give the ship the crystals it desperately needs to stay in orbit.
Remember that this was 1966, and television had not gone nearly as far in showing overt sexual sin as it does today. This episode may well have been the first to show prostitution in a positive light--a dashing, debonair con artist selling unbelievably beautiful young women to the highest bidder. The women's bio-genetically enhanced beauty, of course, seems to have been one of the easiest special effects for the production staff to put together. The actresses--all of whom must have been models before starring in the show--simply wore the make-up needed to make anyone look good on camera, and this, coupled with some simple cinematography, resulted in the effect of "enhanced" beauty. To simulate the effects of the alien drug wearing off, the producers undoubtedly filmed the actresses without make-up and without the special cinematography. (I'm sure there was more to it than that, but the transition between make-up and no make-up would definitely explain the transition between "beautiful" and "ugly" that occurs when the women's drugs wear off, as heavy make-up is required to make both men AND women look good in front of a camera.)
There are two things very wrong with this episode, in spite of what it seems to be saying at the end (one of the miners choosing to stay with his new bride even after finding out that her beauty has been bio-genetically enhanced). For starters, what happened to all the leggy female crew members in skin-tight "uniforms" who have been serving on the Enterprise for the previous several episodes? They seem to disappear in this one--both in the eyes of their male crewmates and (apparently) in the eyes of the production staff as well. One would think that Lieutenant Uhura or Nurse Chapel or Yeoman Rand would do whatever they could to expose Mudd's scheme simply on the basis of female competitiveness, but it takes one of the bio-genetically enhanced women themselves to finally come clean before the truth is revealed to the ship's captain.
More disturbingly, while no actual sex takes place between crew members and Mudd's women, the suggestion of the POSSIBILITY of sex is very potent throughout the episode, and this is one of the reasons why I consider it to be one of the sleaziest episodes of television ever to air. This was 1966, and while sexuality had been introduced in an overt way in film (although not nearly as overt as it is displayed in modern cinema), it was still a brand new part of small screen television, which mostly featured family shows and Westerns. To show what essentially amounted to prostitution in such a positive way (yes, the women are exploited, but yes, they also seem to be ENJOYING the exploitation) was to make a complete departure from what had been the norm in television's portrayal of sexuality. Roddenberry was, in many ways, a cultural trailblazer, and shows like this one blazed the way for the sexual revolution which took place during the late 1960's. The counterculture was, in a very real sense, "tuning in" to shows like Star Trek, and young men and women were seeing a vision of the future that did not fit inside the walls of the stale portrayal of sexuality and marriage they had seen on the small screen for over a decade.
Television has an immense influence in the family home. It is, in a very real sense, a teacher. Unfortunately, most of the lessons it teaches seem to fall under our radar, including the lesson that sex is conquest and adventure with multiple people (and, presumably, without kids to get in the way of the fun). I'm not saying that sex isn't an adventure or that sex isn't fun--quite the contrary--but I AM saying that sex is not the frolicking romp through multiple partners that the entertainment industry says it is. After all, the whole point of having sex--biologically--is having children, right? The drive to unite with someone of the opposite sex is inexorably bound up with the drive to procreate, so much so that even young men who want to "play the field" before getting married still refuse to wear condoms during their sexual encounters. Why do you think they do that, ladies? It's because deep inside of them, there is a drive to procreate that is part of what ultimately comprises their sex drive, and even though they don't understand it themselves (and certainly, on a conscious level, don't want--at the time--to take up the responsibility of being fathers), they still can't bring themselves to use birth control.
This is why divorce is proliferating in America, why American families are becoming so divided and dysfunctional--because our society, via television, has divorced sexuality from procreation. Sex without procreation is sex without love, however, and most people discover, to their horror, that "playing the field" leaves them far more lonely than they ever felt before they played. I would suggest that part of being a Christian in our day and age is teaching--through example--that sex and procreation are fundamentally intertwined, that indeed one does not have "good" sex WITHOUT first committing to the possibility that one will be a parent and a spouse. Teaching our children to view sex in this way is a very important part of teaching them to approach their culture from a Christian perspective.
Remember that this was 1966, and television had not gone nearly as far in showing overt sexual sin as it does today. This episode may well have been the first to show prostitution in a positive light--a dashing, debonair con artist selling unbelievably beautiful young women to the highest bidder. The women's bio-genetically enhanced beauty, of course, seems to have been one of the easiest special effects for the production staff to put together. The actresses--all of whom must have been models before starring in the show--simply wore the make-up needed to make anyone look good on camera, and this, coupled with some simple cinematography, resulted in the effect of "enhanced" beauty. To simulate the effects of the alien drug wearing off, the producers undoubtedly filmed the actresses without make-up and without the special cinematography. (I'm sure there was more to it than that, but the transition between make-up and no make-up would definitely explain the transition between "beautiful" and "ugly" that occurs when the women's drugs wear off, as heavy make-up is required to make both men AND women look good in front of a camera.)
There are two things very wrong with this episode, in spite of what it seems to be saying at the end (one of the miners choosing to stay with his new bride even after finding out that her beauty has been bio-genetically enhanced). For starters, what happened to all the leggy female crew members in skin-tight "uniforms" who have been serving on the Enterprise for the previous several episodes? They seem to disappear in this one--both in the eyes of their male crewmates and (apparently) in the eyes of the production staff as well. One would think that Lieutenant Uhura or Nurse Chapel or Yeoman Rand would do whatever they could to expose Mudd's scheme simply on the basis of female competitiveness, but it takes one of the bio-genetically enhanced women themselves to finally come clean before the truth is revealed to the ship's captain.
More disturbingly, while no actual sex takes place between crew members and Mudd's women, the suggestion of the POSSIBILITY of sex is very potent throughout the episode, and this is one of the reasons why I consider it to be one of the sleaziest episodes of television ever to air. This was 1966, and while sexuality had been introduced in an overt way in film (although not nearly as overt as it is displayed in modern cinema), it was still a brand new part of small screen television, which mostly featured family shows and Westerns. To show what essentially amounted to prostitution in such a positive way (yes, the women are exploited, but yes, they also seem to be ENJOYING the exploitation) was to make a complete departure from what had been the norm in television's portrayal of sexuality. Roddenberry was, in many ways, a cultural trailblazer, and shows like this one blazed the way for the sexual revolution which took place during the late 1960's. The counterculture was, in a very real sense, "tuning in" to shows like Star Trek, and young men and women were seeing a vision of the future that did not fit inside the walls of the stale portrayal of sexuality and marriage they had seen on the small screen for over a decade.
Television has an immense influence in the family home. It is, in a very real sense, a teacher. Unfortunately, most of the lessons it teaches seem to fall under our radar, including the lesson that sex is conquest and adventure with multiple people (and, presumably, without kids to get in the way of the fun). I'm not saying that sex isn't an adventure or that sex isn't fun--quite the contrary--but I AM saying that sex is not the frolicking romp through multiple partners that the entertainment industry says it is. After all, the whole point of having sex--biologically--is having children, right? The drive to unite with someone of the opposite sex is inexorably bound up with the drive to procreate, so much so that even young men who want to "play the field" before getting married still refuse to wear condoms during their sexual encounters. Why do you think they do that, ladies? It's because deep inside of them, there is a drive to procreate that is part of what ultimately comprises their sex drive, and even though they don't understand it themselves (and certainly, on a conscious level, don't want--at the time--to take up the responsibility of being fathers), they still can't bring themselves to use birth control.
This is why divorce is proliferating in America, why American families are becoming so divided and dysfunctional--because our society, via television, has divorced sexuality from procreation. Sex without procreation is sex without love, however, and most people discover, to their horror, that "playing the field" leaves them far more lonely than they ever felt before they played. I would suggest that part of being a Christian in our day and age is teaching--through example--that sex and procreation are fundamentally intertwined, that indeed one does not have "good" sex WITHOUT first committing to the possibility that one will be a parent and a spouse. Teaching our children to view sex in this way is a very important part of teaching them to approach their culture from a Christian perspective.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Star Trek: The Enemy Within
Unlike the Stargate SG-1 episode of the same title, this episode of Star Trek involved something much more philosophical than a worm, worm, worm that takes over a man's body and attempts to blow up a U.S. military base: the separation of a man--via malfunctioning transporter technology--into 2 selves, a "good" self and an "evil" self. This is, in many ways, one of the most fascinating episodes that Star Trek ever offered, and I think it shows us a particularly eye-opening glimpse at some of the perspectives that informed large sectors of the 1960's counterculture. The principle is simple: Kirk, having transported from an ice planet, is split by the transporter into 2 versions of himself--one of which is kind, benevolent, but indecisive, and the other of which is authoritative, vicious, and greedy. Of course, both selves cannot exist apart for long, so after a series of episodes involving mistaken identity (during which Kirk's first officer, Spock, of course, gets what is going on), Kirk's "good" and "evil" selves come together in a climactic conflict, then consent to an attempt to fuse them together into the original Kirk (who contains both of these selves meshed into one personality) via the transporter.
I like a lot of what this episode says about the goodness and evil present in every man, but let's take note of something here. Note that Kirk (and presumably anyone else) needs BOTH his good and evil natures in order to function adequately as a captain (and as a human being). Without his "evil" self, he becomes a dimwitted, pitiful excuse for a man who cannot make his own choices.
This perspective of good and evil is highly reminiscent of Taoism and other Eastern philosophies which suggest that we need a BALANCE of good and evil inside of us to function properly. The problem with this perspective, of course, is that we (yes, that's right, we--the same people who muck up every important thing that we encounter in this life) are the ones who are vested with the responsibility of determining what that balance is. How much evil is too much? How much GOOD is too little? These are questions that none of these Eastern philosophies seem willing to answer.
The fact is, as those of us who have been born again can tell you, it's not that simple. We have an "evil" side because we ADDED that "evil" side to our human matrix through our disobedient attitude toward God. We no more "need" that evil side than a gunshot victim "needs" the bullet that threatens his or her life. If we were to lose that side of ourselves, the wonders we would have attained as a species would have far surpassed anything our inventions, clunky technologies, and new political ideologies have ever wrought during our fledgling 6000 years of existence. A world without hunger, a world without war or disease--these were God's intention for us all when he first formed man and woman from the dust of the ground. It is only because of our arrogance, our refusal to listen to the still, small voice inside ourselves that says we can be something better, that we continue to wreak atrocity after atrocity on each other, unleashing torrents of death and misery on a world that God intended to be a happy one. Our "evil" side is what causes hate and war and prejudice and pollution and a thousand other ills that all of us bemoan but none of us--in our heart of hearts--really want to change.
Therefore, if one of us were to be "split apart" in the same way that Kirk was in this episode, I think she would be surprised not only at how destructive her "evil" side really is but at how little she finds her "good" side needing it.
I like a lot of what this episode says about the goodness and evil present in every man, but let's take note of something here. Note that Kirk (and presumably anyone else) needs BOTH his good and evil natures in order to function adequately as a captain (and as a human being). Without his "evil" self, he becomes a dimwitted, pitiful excuse for a man who cannot make his own choices.
This perspective of good and evil is highly reminiscent of Taoism and other Eastern philosophies which suggest that we need a BALANCE of good and evil inside of us to function properly. The problem with this perspective, of course, is that we (yes, that's right, we--the same people who muck up every important thing that we encounter in this life) are the ones who are vested with the responsibility of determining what that balance is. How much evil is too much? How much GOOD is too little? These are questions that none of these Eastern philosophies seem willing to answer.
The fact is, as those of us who have been born again can tell you, it's not that simple. We have an "evil" side because we ADDED that "evil" side to our human matrix through our disobedient attitude toward God. We no more "need" that evil side than a gunshot victim "needs" the bullet that threatens his or her life. If we were to lose that side of ourselves, the wonders we would have attained as a species would have far surpassed anything our inventions, clunky technologies, and new political ideologies have ever wrought during our fledgling 6000 years of existence. A world without hunger, a world without war or disease--these were God's intention for us all when he first formed man and woman from the dust of the ground. It is only because of our arrogance, our refusal to listen to the still, small voice inside ourselves that says we can be something better, that we continue to wreak atrocity after atrocity on each other, unleashing torrents of death and misery on a world that God intended to be a happy one. Our "evil" side is what causes hate and war and prejudice and pollution and a thousand other ills that all of us bemoan but none of us--in our heart of hearts--really want to change.
Therefore, if one of us were to be "split apart" in the same way that Kirk was in this episode, I think she would be surprised not only at how destructive her "evil" side really is but at how little she finds her "good" side needing it.
Lost: The Pilot
I recently saw the first 2 episodes of Lost, the acclaimed television series that seems to have launched J.J. Abrams into his movie career, and I must say . . . I was not impressed. Original? Hardly. The first hour of the show was very reminiscent of another "castaway" television show that aired a few decades ago. That show was called Gilligan's Island, and it also began with passengers emerging from a wrecked mode of transportation (this time a sailboat), attempting to get their bearings and trying to discover what they could of the new island. (Incidentally, the passengers spent the rest of the series having a lot of strange adventures on the island, just as I presume the passengers of the doomed airliner had throughout the rest of their series.) The second hour reminded me of another show that aired several decades ago--The Prisoner.
I'll give the show kudos for narrative pacing and for its special effects (which were, in the first hour, reminiscent of the movie Castaway and its plane wreck scene). The characters' fear and bewilderment at being trapped in a seemingly deserted island comes across as real and forms a kind of underlying "heartbeat" for the show. Also, I get the impression that perhaps those 48 people who made it onto the beach alive probably didn't make it through the rest of the series unscathed, which (if true) is a nice change of pace from most television series, in which the creators make clear who the "disposable" characters are and who they are not from the very first episode.
However, even though there is a lot to admire technically in this show, the plot strikes me as derivative of social Darwinism: Who will survive on this island? Who DESERVES to survive on this island? What tools of ingenuity will these human beings discover within themselves as they attempt to remain alive without technology long enough for someone to rescue them? All of these questions spring from the same motto which has become the hallmark of what we know as Darwinism today: survival of the fittest. Oh yeah, and we're invited to join in the "selection" process through our suspicion of the characters and their motives, too.
Natural selection (or "survival of the fittest") is a concept that also undergirds much of reality television these days, and I find it ironic that Lost aired shortly after a famous reality series--Survivor--had begun its legendary run. I saw enough bare backs, bare bellies, and small (but strategically placed) bikinis to remind me of that series, and the mutual suspicion among the characters also reminded me of the mutual suspicion engendered among Survivor's contestants. Ultimately, this show teaches by example, rather than by precept (see my posts on Stargate SG-1 and Star Trek), what any good believer in evolutionary theory should know about not only the world but how to live his or her own life.
Atheism is a major driving force within our culture, and it makes sense that atheism is going to drive every article of mass media entertainment our culture produces. That is why, even though shows like Lost appear innocent on the surface (no fornication, bloodletting, or denunciations of God/religion within the pilot episode), they still bear the stamp of the culture which is producing them. To be unaware of this is to be unaware of the fundamental philosophy that, unfortunately, all too many of us are allowing our television sets to teach our children. If you want your children to have the same heart for the God of the Bible (and the God of Christianity) that you do--if not better--you need to be aware, at every step of the way, what you may be allowing others--without your knowledge--to teach your children, and as always, the teacher that most undermines your influence with your children may not be someone you hire or pay with your tax dollars. It could easily be what you have, with comparatively little expense, brought into your living room.
I'll give the show kudos for narrative pacing and for its special effects (which were, in the first hour, reminiscent of the movie Castaway and its plane wreck scene). The characters' fear and bewilderment at being trapped in a seemingly deserted island comes across as real and forms a kind of underlying "heartbeat" for the show. Also, I get the impression that perhaps those 48 people who made it onto the beach alive probably didn't make it through the rest of the series unscathed, which (if true) is a nice change of pace from most television series, in which the creators make clear who the "disposable" characters are and who they are not from the very first episode.
However, even though there is a lot to admire technically in this show, the plot strikes me as derivative of social Darwinism: Who will survive on this island? Who DESERVES to survive on this island? What tools of ingenuity will these human beings discover within themselves as they attempt to remain alive without technology long enough for someone to rescue them? All of these questions spring from the same motto which has become the hallmark of what we know as Darwinism today: survival of the fittest. Oh yeah, and we're invited to join in the "selection" process through our suspicion of the characters and their motives, too.
Natural selection (or "survival of the fittest") is a concept that also undergirds much of reality television these days, and I find it ironic that Lost aired shortly after a famous reality series--Survivor--had begun its legendary run. I saw enough bare backs, bare bellies, and small (but strategically placed) bikinis to remind me of that series, and the mutual suspicion among the characters also reminded me of the mutual suspicion engendered among Survivor's contestants. Ultimately, this show teaches by example, rather than by precept (see my posts on Stargate SG-1 and Star Trek), what any good believer in evolutionary theory should know about not only the world but how to live his or her own life.
Atheism is a major driving force within our culture, and it makes sense that atheism is going to drive every article of mass media entertainment our culture produces. That is why, even though shows like Lost appear innocent on the surface (no fornication, bloodletting, or denunciations of God/religion within the pilot episode), they still bear the stamp of the culture which is producing them. To be unaware of this is to be unaware of the fundamental philosophy that, unfortunately, all too many of us are allowing our television sets to teach our children. If you want your children to have the same heart for the God of the Bible (and the God of Christianity) that you do--if not better--you need to be aware, at every step of the way, what you may be allowing others--without your knowledge--to teach your children, and as always, the teacher that most undermines your influence with your children may not be someone you hire or pay with your tax dollars. It could easily be what you have, with comparatively little expense, brought into your living room.
Stargate SG-1: The Enemy Within
Sometimes "breather" episodes (episodes that occur after something really traumatic has happened to the characters) can be better than the ratings-getters, and this episode (which aired immediately after the pilot) is no exception. The pain of Tealc, who is imprisoned, held under suspicion, and almost dissected by the very planet he has sworn to defend, is real, as is the pain of Kowalski (who, in the previous episode was infected by one of those worms, worms, worms), and the production staff made the bad boys from outer space bad again, as bad as they were in the movie. However, I noticed that in the process of prioritizing the "evil alien infiltrates the mind of a good guy" story in this episode, the producers gave short shrift to Daniel Jackson who, if I recall correctly, is mourning the loss of a WIFE. I've been a newlywed, and trust me, if my wife were stolen from me during our first year of marriage by some evil force, I would be a basket case . . . which makes me wonder why Daniel Jackson's reaction is so cool and measured and calm. (Remember, he's not a military man--just an archeologist--so his training would not, repeat NOT, enable him to "turn off" his emotions in a way that military training would help men like Colonel O'Neil.)
If I remember correctly, this is the beginning of the "Where is Daniel Jackson?" argument that plagued the series. I think that the main reason why Daniel Jackson was slighted for a while is simply that the show has another, better "partner" for O'Neil--Samantha Carter. Think about it--she fulfills the same scientific role as Jackson did in the movie, and she also does a good job of building a rapport with O'Neil in the first episodes of the show. Basically, she's a replacement for Daniel, and I think this is something that the producers of the show had a hard time working out for the first several seasons. (Frankly, I'm not sure if they ever got it right.)
As for the story of godhood versus humanity, we find that "the truth" of our existence is that while we "evolved" on Earth, we were "discovered" by the evil space aliens who show themselves in the movie, the series pilot, and this episode and transplanted to hundreds of other worlds for use as (to put it bluntly) livestock. This is fine--I'm all for the idea of presenting human beings as farm animals cultivated by other beings (though I think it is not in accord with the Christian perspective of a God who lovingly creates each one of us as unique, special creatures)--but really, if you're willing to say that we were farmed by alien beings on hundreds of worlds so that they could use our bodies, why would it be necessary for us to have "evolved" at all? Might it not also be possible that the same beings who "farmed" us also genetically engineered us as a perfect "host" race designed to suit their needs?
What I'm pointing out here is the extent to which the theory of evolution as we popularly know it today still serves to inform sci-fi television. To say we evolved from a "lower" form of life is to give us, in our view, a certain degree of independence. It is gratifying to the human ego to believe that we, of our own free will, arose out of some primordial soup to become masters of all we see, and this, I think, is the reason that the theory of evolution as most of us know it is so popular. If we were to suggest that we did not "evolve" but instead were created for a specific purpose (either malevolent or benevolent), even in the fiction of sci-fi television, that possibility is doubtless more than the average human mind can bear. That is, unfortunately, the state of our culture today--without anchor, without a root in anything beyond ourselves.
Christians need to expose their children to this worldview at some point--they will be exposed to it whether they like it or not--but we can do it in a way that also exposes them to the raw truth of what this worldview has wrought in human civilization. Yes, we have done marvelous things--splitting the atom, sending rockets into space--but we have done so at the cost of millions of human lives, lives snuffed out in two world wars, 40 years of brushfire wars, and even now, 2 decades after we said the story of war was over. And we consider ourselves superior somehow to the feudal societies that invented new, horrible ways to execute people and that stamped out free thought and free expression with the sword. However, the difference between those people and us is simply that in their belief system--Christianity--the acts did not reflect the values that the perpetrators claimed to reflect (which is why, eventually, the society of the Middle Ages collapsed). However, in our era, our brutal acts DO reflect the values that we claim to believe in--survival of the fittest--and hence, I believe, we will continue to see a downward spiral within our society, until at last we may find ourselves reaching the point of no return.
If I remember correctly, this is the beginning of the "Where is Daniel Jackson?" argument that plagued the series. I think that the main reason why Daniel Jackson was slighted for a while is simply that the show has another, better "partner" for O'Neil--Samantha Carter. Think about it--she fulfills the same scientific role as Jackson did in the movie, and she also does a good job of building a rapport with O'Neil in the first episodes of the show. Basically, she's a replacement for Daniel, and I think this is something that the producers of the show had a hard time working out for the first several seasons. (Frankly, I'm not sure if they ever got it right.)
As for the story of godhood versus humanity, we find that "the truth" of our existence is that while we "evolved" on Earth, we were "discovered" by the evil space aliens who show themselves in the movie, the series pilot, and this episode and transplanted to hundreds of other worlds for use as (to put it bluntly) livestock. This is fine--I'm all for the idea of presenting human beings as farm animals cultivated by other beings (though I think it is not in accord with the Christian perspective of a God who lovingly creates each one of us as unique, special creatures)--but really, if you're willing to say that we were farmed by alien beings on hundreds of worlds so that they could use our bodies, why would it be necessary for us to have "evolved" at all? Might it not also be possible that the same beings who "farmed" us also genetically engineered us as a perfect "host" race designed to suit their needs?
What I'm pointing out here is the extent to which the theory of evolution as we popularly know it today still serves to inform sci-fi television. To say we evolved from a "lower" form of life is to give us, in our view, a certain degree of independence. It is gratifying to the human ego to believe that we, of our own free will, arose out of some primordial soup to become masters of all we see, and this, I think, is the reason that the theory of evolution as most of us know it is so popular. If we were to suggest that we did not "evolve" but instead were created for a specific purpose (either malevolent or benevolent), even in the fiction of sci-fi television, that possibility is doubtless more than the average human mind can bear. That is, unfortunately, the state of our culture today--without anchor, without a root in anything beyond ourselves.
Christians need to expose their children to this worldview at some point--they will be exposed to it whether they like it or not--but we can do it in a way that also exposes them to the raw truth of what this worldview has wrought in human civilization. Yes, we have done marvelous things--splitting the atom, sending rockets into space--but we have done so at the cost of millions of human lives, lives snuffed out in two world wars, 40 years of brushfire wars, and even now, 2 decades after we said the story of war was over. And we consider ourselves superior somehow to the feudal societies that invented new, horrible ways to execute people and that stamped out free thought and free expression with the sword. However, the difference between those people and us is simply that in their belief system--Christianity--the acts did not reflect the values that the perpetrators claimed to reflect (which is why, eventually, the society of the Middle Ages collapsed). However, in our era, our brutal acts DO reflect the values that we claim to believe in--survival of the fittest--and hence, I believe, we will continue to see a downward spiral within our society, until at last we may find ourselves reaching the point of no return.
The Legend of She-Ra: Another Trip Back to the '80s
I'm well aware of the (rather stupid) controversy that surrounded He-Man and She-Ra during the 1980's in the conservative Christian community, and I have to admit that much of the Christian reaction to those 2 shows, while well-intentioned, had such a weird tone of alarmism to it that it drove a lot of kids my age to want to watch those shows even more. Let's get one thing straight here, ladies and gentlemen: Neither of these 2 television shows' title characters are guilty of much more than bare naked commercialism (and I choose the words "bare naked" carefully--remember how much skin both characters showed on screen?), although I will say that She-Ra's magical powers of healing and animal telepathy bespeak of a loving animator's romantization of women (Yes, they can be physically strong, but they still must be kind to animals and healing to everyone else.).
However, what struck me as I watched the 5 part miniseries that brought He-Man's twin sister into the world was that the cute, fuzzy celebration of paganism that most Christian alarmist writers were MISSING during the '80s lay in the supporting characters--specially the little purple witch and her talking broom from the She-Ra series and Orko the floating wannabe magician from the He-Man series. It's especially overt in She-Ra because the little purple witch and her talking broom (both of whose names escape me at the moment) are forest creatures, and the paganism they so cheerfully represent is a paganism of forests, glades, and nature. (Really, I had the sense throughout the television mini-series that I was watching a really long episode of the Smurfs--except with ray guns and a villain who could change into a rocket.)
You see, it's never been EASTERN mysticism that has posed any real opposition to Christianity within America. After all, while many of us "dig" Yoga, Buddhism, and meditation, we look at these things as foreign concepts, alien to the colonial roots that spawned the first 13 American states. However, WESTERN mysticism feels downright homey to us. All of those wonderful creatures--elves, wizards, and little blue people who live in mushrooms--living in the forest, worshiping the trees, the grass, the sky, and all of the wonderful creations of our God . . . all of those images go right down into the deepest recesses of who we Westerners are and used to be before Christianity became the official religion of Rome. This is the kind of religion we feel most at home with--a religion that we, in our twenty-first century angst over the ways we are destroying our world with technology, feel stirring more earnestly inside our collective bones every day.
It is this "innocent" celebration of paganism, through characters that serve as comic relief, that should be a concern to Christians. I don't think that we are being subjected to some sort of mass Hollywood New Age conspiracy, as some Christian writers would have you believe (come on, we all know everyone's god in Hollywood is MONEY, right?). However, I do think that it's important for Christians to recognize when they are watching (or letting their children watch) things that may run counter to their beliefs. And the best way to respond, when they do find their beliefs at odds with what they're watching, is the same response that Christian leaders should have been advocating in the '80s: a silent turn of the knob, a simple willingness to say, "My family doesn't watch certain things on television because that's not what we believe," rather than loudly proclaiming the evils of the latest popular form of entertainment to anyone within earshot of our shrill voices.
There are a lot of good things about both of these 2 shows. Both title characters teach children what it is to be a hero and to sacrifice for others. However, if I had known the history of some of the comic relief images that went into those shows when I was watching them (in other words, if I had know then as a little kid what I know now), I would take the spells, the sorcery, and the "sources of power" with a MAJOR grain of salt. However, the fact that I DO know what I know now enables me to help my children see what their culture is feeding them. Without that knowledge, they will ultimately be left where I was when I was little--spiritually unarmed.
However, what struck me as I watched the 5 part miniseries that brought He-Man's twin sister into the world was that the cute, fuzzy celebration of paganism that most Christian alarmist writers were MISSING during the '80s lay in the supporting characters--specially the little purple witch and her talking broom from the She-Ra series and Orko the floating wannabe magician from the He-Man series. It's especially overt in She-Ra because the little purple witch and her talking broom (both of whose names escape me at the moment) are forest creatures, and the paganism they so cheerfully represent is a paganism of forests, glades, and nature. (Really, I had the sense throughout the television mini-series that I was watching a really long episode of the Smurfs--except with ray guns and a villain who could change into a rocket.)
You see, it's never been EASTERN mysticism that has posed any real opposition to Christianity within America. After all, while many of us "dig" Yoga, Buddhism, and meditation, we look at these things as foreign concepts, alien to the colonial roots that spawned the first 13 American states. However, WESTERN mysticism feels downright homey to us. All of those wonderful creatures--elves, wizards, and little blue people who live in mushrooms--living in the forest, worshiping the trees, the grass, the sky, and all of the wonderful creations of our God . . . all of those images go right down into the deepest recesses of who we Westerners are and used to be before Christianity became the official religion of Rome. This is the kind of religion we feel most at home with--a religion that we, in our twenty-first century angst over the ways we are destroying our world with technology, feel stirring more earnestly inside our collective bones every day.
It is this "innocent" celebration of paganism, through characters that serve as comic relief, that should be a concern to Christians. I don't think that we are being subjected to some sort of mass Hollywood New Age conspiracy, as some Christian writers would have you believe (come on, we all know everyone's god in Hollywood is MONEY, right?). However, I do think that it's important for Christians to recognize when they are watching (or letting their children watch) things that may run counter to their beliefs. And the best way to respond, when they do find their beliefs at odds with what they're watching, is the same response that Christian leaders should have been advocating in the '80s: a silent turn of the knob, a simple willingness to say, "My family doesn't watch certain things on television because that's not what we believe," rather than loudly proclaiming the evils of the latest popular form of entertainment to anyone within earshot of our shrill voices.
There are a lot of good things about both of these 2 shows. Both title characters teach children what it is to be a hero and to sacrifice for others. However, if I had known the history of some of the comic relief images that went into those shows when I was watching them (in other words, if I had know then as a little kid what I know now), I would take the spells, the sorcery, and the "sources of power" with a MAJOR grain of salt. However, the fact that I DO know what I know now enables me to help my children see what their culture is feeding them. Without that knowledge, they will ultimately be left where I was when I was little--spiritually unarmed.
Friday, June 25, 2010
The Obama/McChrystal Show
I normally like to stay away from news commentary (either on television or anywhere else--unless it's on NPR, and then I try to read between the lines so I don't end up swallowing what NPR wants me to swallow), but I thought this whole day-long drama that revolved around General McChrystal's firing by President Obama earlier this week demonstrated exactly what is wrong with American news media today. I'll put it simply: If you watch the news channels--ANY of the news channels--you are watching the masculinely correct version of a soap opera. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that's right--a soap opera. Let me break the Obama/McChrystal show down for you in classic TV preview format:
"Will McChrystal be fired? What will this mean for Obama's war strategy? Who will Obama hire to replace McChrystal? Tune in tomorrow--same time, same channel."
Come on, ladies and gentlemen. All of you who have at least some inkling of maturity know that if you talk trash about your employer, you get fired. People who post garbage about their bosses or companies' policies on Twitter or Facebook get canned left and right. Why do you think it would be any different for a general serving under the Commander-in-Chief?
Personally, I don't believe we actually have news channels or news services in America. Instead, we have news ENTERTAINMENT channels, news ENTERTAINMENT services, and news ENTERTAINMENT programming, all designed to bring the oldest reality TV show to the American small screen. And you, my fellow American, are in all likelihood stupid enough to tune in, cloaking your desire for soap opera-style entertainment in the guise of wanting to be an informed citizen. Make no mistake--I'm not blaming the news entertainment industry for the way it presents its news--I'm blaming YOU for sparking the DEMAND for this sort of nonsense. The minute that all of you couch potatoes out there turn off CNN AND Fox News, wake up, and begin to participate in our society as informed citizens--instead of letting talk show hosts tell you what you should be concerned about (and what you should think)--the sooner we as a society will start seeing some REAL SOLUTIONS to our problems.
Find what I said insulting? GOOD. Maybe someone needs to come along and wake your sorry rear end up out of your talk show induced, entertainment addicted stupor so that you can see that government for the people, of the people, and BY the people is deadly serious business. Do you know who your elected representatives are? Do you care? Have you any concern about the way things are going in your country, BEYOND your interest in staying tuned to the latest nonsense about the latest so-called government "outrage" on your favorite news entertainment channel? Well, then, maybe you should read, and more importantly, maybe you should become a little more active in supporting the things YOU believe in. So my question to you is this: Are you going to let corporate interests whose lifeblood is making sure you are entertained rather than informed tell you what to get upset about . . . or are you going to get out of that chair and find out for yourself?
This is America. It's your country. Maybe you should start acting like it.
"Will McChrystal be fired? What will this mean for Obama's war strategy? Who will Obama hire to replace McChrystal? Tune in tomorrow--same time, same channel."
Come on, ladies and gentlemen. All of you who have at least some inkling of maturity know that if you talk trash about your employer, you get fired. People who post garbage about their bosses or companies' policies on Twitter or Facebook get canned left and right. Why do you think it would be any different for a general serving under the Commander-in-Chief?
Personally, I don't believe we actually have news channels or news services in America. Instead, we have news ENTERTAINMENT channels, news ENTERTAINMENT services, and news ENTERTAINMENT programming, all designed to bring the oldest reality TV show to the American small screen. And you, my fellow American, are in all likelihood stupid enough to tune in, cloaking your desire for soap opera-style entertainment in the guise of wanting to be an informed citizen. Make no mistake--I'm not blaming the news entertainment industry for the way it presents its news--I'm blaming YOU for sparking the DEMAND for this sort of nonsense. The minute that all of you couch potatoes out there turn off CNN AND Fox News, wake up, and begin to participate in our society as informed citizens--instead of letting talk show hosts tell you what you should be concerned about (and what you should think)--the sooner we as a society will start seeing some REAL SOLUTIONS to our problems.
Find what I said insulting? GOOD. Maybe someone needs to come along and wake your sorry rear end up out of your talk show induced, entertainment addicted stupor so that you can see that government for the people, of the people, and BY the people is deadly serious business. Do you know who your elected representatives are? Do you care? Have you any concern about the way things are going in your country, BEYOND your interest in staying tuned to the latest nonsense about the latest so-called government "outrage" on your favorite news entertainment channel? Well, then, maybe you should read, and more importantly, maybe you should become a little more active in supporting the things YOU believe in. So my question to you is this: Are you going to let corporate interests whose lifeblood is making sure you are entertained rather than informed tell you what to get upset about . . . or are you going to get out of that chair and find out for yourself?
This is America. It's your country. Maybe you should start acting like it.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Stargate SG-1: Children of the Gods
I first started noticing episodes of this cheap, campy continuation of a popular popcorn movie in syndication in the '90s, and I have to admit that the series had its appeal. For starters, the premise that we the human race would find an alien artifact in the Middle Eastern deserts that could take us to different planets seemed a lot more plausible than the premise that we would be smart enough to master space/time warp technology and make spaceships that could travel beyond the speed of light. Also, I liked the realism of the series, the fact that it was based on twentieth/twenty-first century America rather than on a pie-in-the-sky utopian pan-Earth society. However, as I recently watched the series' 2-part opener "Children of the Gods," I got a very bad taste in my mouth.
First of all, I thought the show's creators were probably watching a little too much porn (or perhaps too many old alien invasion movies) because the mission of Apophis (what brings him and his alien bad boys across the galaxy to our little planet) is a hunt for women. Come on! Where's the philosophical perspective of the alien from the movie who says to Kurt Russell, "You have mastered the atom," gloating in the civilization he has unwittingly created before attempting to destroy it? For that matter, where's the threat? An alien forcibly abducting women so that he can find a wife? That's hardly something we would spend millions of dollars to prevent (although we might try to resolve the situation by burying the stargate, as General Hammond aptly suggests).
(By the way, since Apophis and his woman-stealin' gang didn't have a dial-up device on our world to bring them back, how did they get the gate open without shooting their way into the base's control room? Anyone who can give me a GOOD explanation for that little plot hole will have my admiration.)
Also, what is up with those teenage kids hanging out in the pyramid on Abydos? Since the last time soldiers came through the stargate resulted in their near destruction at the hands of Ra, couldn't we assume that Sha're, Skaara, and company wouldn't be so happy to see the USAF pay them another visit? At the very least, I would expect everyone to be far more on guard around the gate. (When Apophis and his woman stealin' gang eventually come through, it seems they have no trouble taking apart a USAF squad AND several armed youths who had defeated Ra--all of whom are completely off their guard and unbalanced when the gate opens. What, did they think the Easter Bunny was coming through or something?)
So many plot holes, so little time . . .
(I'm, of course, ignoring the fact that in the movie, the "Ra" alien possesses a young boy via a beam of light, while in the 2-parter (and the rest of the series), the vehicle of possession is a worm, worm, worm.)
(I also won't mention the fact that after this 2-parter, everyone the SG-1 team runs into can speak perfect (or near-perfect) English, rendering Daniel Jackson's amazing linguistic skills useless by episode 3.)
All of these plot anomalies--while utterly ridiculous and worthy of a blog post in and of themselves--lead me to my second reason for having a bad taste in my mouth, and that reason has to do with the way this show portrays the concept of divinity. For all of our tendency to laugh at polytheistic societies such as the ancient Egyptians for their worship of the sun, moon, and stars, no one with any real exposure to ancient history can deny that the ancient Egyptians were deadly serious about their religion. The Egyptians, the Greeks, the Romans, the Babylonians--all of these (and many more ancient societies like them) regarded their gods as beings that EXISTED and that REWARDED them for obedience. These religions were as powerful during that era as Christianity, Islam, and Buddhism are today.
As a Christian, I know that these polytheistic religions were wrong--but not because I have a problem with attributing my existence to a God. The reason these religions were wrong is the same reason why our worship of money, sex, and television is wrong today--because the OBJECTS of their worship didn't DESERVE their worship. My God, however--a God of unbelievable love and kindness--deserves my worship, my obedience, and my soul.
A far cry from the kind of response that this show is designed to invite from its audience. After all, since the human race is capable of killing ancient Egyptian deities like Ra, then why should we be subject to ANY God? This is the message that, if we are not careful, we as believers will take in. Our era is an era which is quickly seeking any means it can to divest itself of God, and shows like Stargate and Star Trek are very much a part of this movement. If we who call ourselves Christians do not face up to this fact of our present-day existence, we will have a very hard time facing up to the future.
First of all, I thought the show's creators were probably watching a little too much porn (or perhaps too many old alien invasion movies) because the mission of Apophis (what brings him and his alien bad boys across the galaxy to our little planet) is a hunt for women. Come on! Where's the philosophical perspective of the alien from the movie who says to Kurt Russell, "You have mastered the atom," gloating in the civilization he has unwittingly created before attempting to destroy it? For that matter, where's the threat? An alien forcibly abducting women so that he can find a wife? That's hardly something we would spend millions of dollars to prevent (although we might try to resolve the situation by burying the stargate, as General Hammond aptly suggests).
(By the way, since Apophis and his woman-stealin' gang didn't have a dial-up device on our world to bring them back, how did they get the gate open without shooting their way into the base's control room? Anyone who can give me a GOOD explanation for that little plot hole will have my admiration.)
Also, what is up with those teenage kids hanging out in the pyramid on Abydos? Since the last time soldiers came through the stargate resulted in their near destruction at the hands of Ra, couldn't we assume that Sha're, Skaara, and company wouldn't be so happy to see the USAF pay them another visit? At the very least, I would expect everyone to be far more on guard around the gate. (When Apophis and his woman stealin' gang eventually come through, it seems they have no trouble taking apart a USAF squad AND several armed youths who had defeated Ra--all of whom are completely off their guard and unbalanced when the gate opens. What, did they think the Easter Bunny was coming through or something?)
So many plot holes, so little time . . .
(I'm, of course, ignoring the fact that in the movie, the "Ra" alien possesses a young boy via a beam of light, while in the 2-parter (and the rest of the series), the vehicle of possession is a worm, worm, worm.)
(I also won't mention the fact that after this 2-parter, everyone the SG-1 team runs into can speak perfect (or near-perfect) English, rendering Daniel Jackson's amazing linguistic skills useless by episode 3.)
All of these plot anomalies--while utterly ridiculous and worthy of a blog post in and of themselves--lead me to my second reason for having a bad taste in my mouth, and that reason has to do with the way this show portrays the concept of divinity. For all of our tendency to laugh at polytheistic societies such as the ancient Egyptians for their worship of the sun, moon, and stars, no one with any real exposure to ancient history can deny that the ancient Egyptians were deadly serious about their religion. The Egyptians, the Greeks, the Romans, the Babylonians--all of these (and many more ancient societies like them) regarded their gods as beings that EXISTED and that REWARDED them for obedience. These religions were as powerful during that era as Christianity, Islam, and Buddhism are today.
As a Christian, I know that these polytheistic religions were wrong--but not because I have a problem with attributing my existence to a God. The reason these religions were wrong is the same reason why our worship of money, sex, and television is wrong today--because the OBJECTS of their worship didn't DESERVE their worship. My God, however--a God of unbelievable love and kindness--deserves my worship, my obedience, and my soul.
A far cry from the kind of response that this show is designed to invite from its audience. After all, since the human race is capable of killing ancient Egyptian deities like Ra, then why should we be subject to ANY God? This is the message that, if we are not careful, we as believers will take in. Our era is an era which is quickly seeking any means it can to divest itself of God, and shows like Stargate and Star Trek are very much a part of this movement. If we who call ourselves Christians do not face up to this fact of our present-day existence, we will have a very hard time facing up to the future.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Star Trek--The Naked Time
I'm not sure what's worse about this episode--the fact that it only takes the Starship Enterprise's crew 4 minutes to wake up from mass insanity and blast themselves out of a dying planet's orbit with a hastily-conceived theory or the fact that only under the influence of alcohol (er, gravitationally charged water molecules) do the members of the Enterprise crew start making sense. For example, Reilly, the self-absorbed Irishman who takes over Engineering (don't they have security officers down there?) and declares himself "captain," is quite possibly one of the best characters that the show's producers ever invented. I wish all of us could be like him--uninhibited, full of a brimming-over sense of joy that cannot be contained in the rules, ranks, and prejudices of our society, and to a very large extent, I think that more Christians should look at this example of true unfettered happiness, rather than to the staid secularist stoicism of Kirk, Spock, and McCoy as a model for how they should act in this world.
Of course, as you might suspect, I find myself agreeing most with the young officer who eventually takes a knife to himself in the crewmen's mess (albeit what clearly appears on camera to be a bread knife). This is, to me, the show's "voice of reason," the lone crew member who expresses what I think anyone in his shoes would be feeling: a fundamental sense that man does not belong in the vacuum of space. While this notion runs counter to Roddenberry's optimistic futurism, and while I therefore, as a viewer, am supposed to be antagonistic toward it, I find this crewman's words to be, in many ways, the only truly honest words in the whole episode. Outer space, as any former astronaut will tell you, is a dangerous place for humans to be, and the prospect of finding oneself caught in a vacuum without a spacesuit is probably more frightening to those who work and fly in orbital space than it can ever be to anyone else. Wouldn't you, if you were assigned to a spaceship flying light years--even light decades--away from the solar system, away from Jupiter, Mars, and Earth, knowing that one wrong move by your superiors would expose you to space or get you lost from your home on Earth forever, be just a little afraid?
Here we get to my point about Star Trek, about optimistic futurism, and about all "space opera" television series. Let's face it, ladies and gentlemen--these kinds of shows have to break basic rules of science just to get off the ground. Warp power, matter/energy transport, phasers and shields, these are all technologies that require so much energy that we could very well blow ourselves up (to say nothing of our planet and our solar system) trying to invent them. (Of course, we probably would have a hard enough time coming up with the kind of technology that would allow people like Kirk, Spock, and McCoy to walk around, ride elevators, and conduct sword fights like normal people on Earth do when they are in a zero gravity environment, but I digress.) Yes, it is true that we have invented machines that have brought us to the sky and into orbital space, but traveling between the stars? Forget it. The kind of energy it would take to break the space/time continuum (or even bend it a little) would be greater than our puny factories and power plants could manufacture, and it would almost certainly endanger the fragile balance of our solar system.
Man can't colonize space on his or her own.
Personally, I think that the further we were to get away from our planet in terms of traveling ability, the more we would find ourselves depending on our Creator. Think about it--if you were in the equivalent of a big tin can surrounded by nothing but a cold, dark, pressureless vacuum, wouldn't you consider offering up a few prayers? I certainly would. I have always thought that interstellar travel (and even interplanetary travel) would be a big mystery to the human race . . . until Jesus came back and explained how we could do it. Maybe he won't--after all, there's nothing in the Bible to suggest that we would go anywhere other than Earth after Jesus' second coming--but it's still an idea I have. I wonder . . . if, after we have technologized our world into ruins in a vain attempt to attain a semblance of godhood, might we be given freedoms and new horizons beyond our wildest dreams by a loving, forgiving God?
Something to think about, friends.
Of course, as you might suspect, I find myself agreeing most with the young officer who eventually takes a knife to himself in the crewmen's mess (albeit what clearly appears on camera to be a bread knife). This is, to me, the show's "voice of reason," the lone crew member who expresses what I think anyone in his shoes would be feeling: a fundamental sense that man does not belong in the vacuum of space. While this notion runs counter to Roddenberry's optimistic futurism, and while I therefore, as a viewer, am supposed to be antagonistic toward it, I find this crewman's words to be, in many ways, the only truly honest words in the whole episode. Outer space, as any former astronaut will tell you, is a dangerous place for humans to be, and the prospect of finding oneself caught in a vacuum without a spacesuit is probably more frightening to those who work and fly in orbital space than it can ever be to anyone else. Wouldn't you, if you were assigned to a spaceship flying light years--even light decades--away from the solar system, away from Jupiter, Mars, and Earth, knowing that one wrong move by your superiors would expose you to space or get you lost from your home on Earth forever, be just a little afraid?
Here we get to my point about Star Trek, about optimistic futurism, and about all "space opera" television series. Let's face it, ladies and gentlemen--these kinds of shows have to break basic rules of science just to get off the ground. Warp power, matter/energy transport, phasers and shields, these are all technologies that require so much energy that we could very well blow ourselves up (to say nothing of our planet and our solar system) trying to invent them. (Of course, we probably would have a hard enough time coming up with the kind of technology that would allow people like Kirk, Spock, and McCoy to walk around, ride elevators, and conduct sword fights like normal people on Earth do when they are in a zero gravity environment, but I digress.) Yes, it is true that we have invented machines that have brought us to the sky and into orbital space, but traveling between the stars? Forget it. The kind of energy it would take to break the space/time continuum (or even bend it a little) would be greater than our puny factories and power plants could manufacture, and it would almost certainly endanger the fragile balance of our solar system.
Man can't colonize space on his or her own.
Personally, I think that the further we were to get away from our planet in terms of traveling ability, the more we would find ourselves depending on our Creator. Think about it--if you were in the equivalent of a big tin can surrounded by nothing but a cold, dark, pressureless vacuum, wouldn't you consider offering up a few prayers? I certainly would. I have always thought that interstellar travel (and even interplanetary travel) would be a big mystery to the human race . . . until Jesus came back and explained how we could do it. Maybe he won't--after all, there's nothing in the Bible to suggest that we would go anywhere other than Earth after Jesus' second coming--but it's still an idea I have. I wonder . . . if, after we have technologized our world into ruins in a vain attempt to attain a semblance of godhood, might we be given freedoms and new horizons beyond our wildest dreams by a loving, forgiving God?
Something to think about, friends.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Star Trek--Where No Man Has Gone Before
One of the topics that fascinated Americans in the 1960's and 1970's was something called ESP. Short for Extrasensory Perception, this little concept became a topic of study for legitimate scientists and a subject of interest for the general public. Could it be possible that a human being could develop the ability to manipulate objects with his or her mind, to reader others' thoughts, or even to influence others' thoughts? As we seem to have discovered, the answer to that question is a clear, "no," but the fact that we asked the question at all indicates the extent to which we as human beings find our existence--particularly our mortality--to be stultifying. To be designed for purposes beyond our control--beyond our permission--is a fact of life that most of us either can't or don't want to handle.
It is for that reason that Gary Mitchell, the villain in "Where No Man Has Gone Before," is both a mirror of man's innate evil and also a hero. Obviously, as we can see in the episode, Mitchell (for all his newfound godhood) exhibits greed, jealousy, and selfishness, and he is willing to strangle and kill former friends and colleagues in order to obtain what he wants. In many ways, this episode of Star Trek paints the human condition in its truest form, the "frailty" that Kirk so often references in his exchanges with Mitchell and other crewmen showing up vividly in Mitchell's destructive behavior. However, as I watched this episode for what, to me, was probably the twentieth or thirtieth time, I was astonished at something else entirely--the guttural savagery of Kirk's attempt to take Mitchell apart with his bare hands. This is violence that would have doubtless been acceptable in many Western movies at the time, but as a viewer, I found it fascinating that when the opportunity strikes for Mitchell to be subdued, Kirk chooses not to go for his phaser rifle (which could doubtlessly kill Mitchell in a matter of seconds) and instead opts to beat him with his fists, then attempt to cave in his skull with a nearby rock. I think the producers of the show (their second pilot episode, in fact) probably hadn't considered this little detail when they were trying to put together a gripping fight scene for their audience, but it says something to me that they chose to present violence that atavistic rather than something more civilized, especially when I consider that network executives of that era were far more concerned about what they might be showing children in prime time than network executives are now.
Also, I was struck that the key female supporting lead--Dr. Danar--is a cold, calculating Nazi-type figure who sees the development of an ESPer race as a climactic evolutionary achievement for the human species. (In other words, she's a character who--2 decades removed from World War II--audience members of that era could "love to hate.") In particular, I was struck by one line of dialogue in which the good doctor apologizes for her "freezer"-like behavior toward Mitchell by saying that women who are career-minded tend to "overcompensate" a bit. Mitchell--before his transformation into a godlike being--attempts to flirt with her, only to receive a withering rejection. Now, sitting in Sick Bay, he enjoys the opportunity of hearing her say that she was "overcompensating" in order to fulfill her career role. This brings up an important point about feminism and sexual relations that I want to explore in more detail here, because it informs much of what we see on television.
When people flirt with members of the opposite sex, what is their main aim? Obviously, it is to consummate a sexual union, right? Well, what is the main purpose--biologically--for a sexual union? Reproduction, isn't it? I'm not saying that sex itself isn't fun or pleasurable--of course it is--but I AM saying that the main AIM of sex is procreation.
Now, let's go back to the scene with Mitchell and Danar. Now, what is Danar "overcompensating" for? She's (obviously) overcompensating for her drive to cooperate with Mitchell (or any member of the opposite sex) for procreation, right?
This is my point. The "professional" woman, the woman who wants to pursue a career, is often opposed to the "obedient conservative housewife" in the popular imagination, largely because the two images are opposed to each other ON TELEVISION. Think about it--is there any reason why a Christian man should be concerned that his wife might be interested in pursuing a career of her own? Of course not. Husbands and wives can work together, and I think they SHOULD work together, if for no reason other than that working together strengthens the marriage bond. However, our society would have it otherwise. We have all grown up in a society that tells us--again, largely through television--that to be a professional woman is fundamentally opposed to being a wife and mother, and this ridiculous idea has probably resulted in the ruin of more marriages and relationships than any other single cultural motif. Why should a woman consider having children at odds with having a career? After all, if MEN have had both children and careers for 6000 years, then I certainly don't believe that WOMEN would find it any more difficult. (Yes, there is pregnancy, but come on, ladies and gentlemen. Any good man is there with his wife through the whole thing, right? It isn't like the coming of a new baby would change HIS life any less than it would his wife's.)
As I pointed out in one of my early posts, there was a time in human history when women vied for the privilege of having babies. Today, we train women to run away from this one singular aspect of their lives that they can experience in a deeper, more powerful way than men can ever imagine, and as a result, childbirth has become almost a curse in certain sectors of our society. This is a far cry from the attitude of the Bible writer who said that children are a blessing from the Lord, and it is a far cry from the kind of attitude that Christians should be fostering in their children. This one aspect of our culture, this antagonistic stance toward one of the human race's greatest joys, is something that permeates television right down to its core. The more we refuse to see this cultural value for what it is, the more we will see ourselves adopting the teachings of our television set--at the cost of our families, our children, and our spiritual well-being.
It is for that reason that Gary Mitchell, the villain in "Where No Man Has Gone Before," is both a mirror of man's innate evil and also a hero. Obviously, as we can see in the episode, Mitchell (for all his newfound godhood) exhibits greed, jealousy, and selfishness, and he is willing to strangle and kill former friends and colleagues in order to obtain what he wants. In many ways, this episode of Star Trek paints the human condition in its truest form, the "frailty" that Kirk so often references in his exchanges with Mitchell and other crewmen showing up vividly in Mitchell's destructive behavior. However, as I watched this episode for what, to me, was probably the twentieth or thirtieth time, I was astonished at something else entirely--the guttural savagery of Kirk's attempt to take Mitchell apart with his bare hands. This is violence that would have doubtless been acceptable in many Western movies at the time, but as a viewer, I found it fascinating that when the opportunity strikes for Mitchell to be subdued, Kirk chooses not to go for his phaser rifle (which could doubtlessly kill Mitchell in a matter of seconds) and instead opts to beat him with his fists, then attempt to cave in his skull with a nearby rock. I think the producers of the show (their second pilot episode, in fact) probably hadn't considered this little detail when they were trying to put together a gripping fight scene for their audience, but it says something to me that they chose to present violence that atavistic rather than something more civilized, especially when I consider that network executives of that era were far more concerned about what they might be showing children in prime time than network executives are now.
Also, I was struck that the key female supporting lead--Dr. Danar--is a cold, calculating Nazi-type figure who sees the development of an ESPer race as a climactic evolutionary achievement for the human species. (In other words, she's a character who--2 decades removed from World War II--audience members of that era could "love to hate.") In particular, I was struck by one line of dialogue in which the good doctor apologizes for her "freezer"-like behavior toward Mitchell by saying that women who are career-minded tend to "overcompensate" a bit. Mitchell--before his transformation into a godlike being--attempts to flirt with her, only to receive a withering rejection. Now, sitting in Sick Bay, he enjoys the opportunity of hearing her say that she was "overcompensating" in order to fulfill her career role. This brings up an important point about feminism and sexual relations that I want to explore in more detail here, because it informs much of what we see on television.
When people flirt with members of the opposite sex, what is their main aim? Obviously, it is to consummate a sexual union, right? Well, what is the main purpose--biologically--for a sexual union? Reproduction, isn't it? I'm not saying that sex itself isn't fun or pleasurable--of course it is--but I AM saying that the main AIM of sex is procreation.
Now, let's go back to the scene with Mitchell and Danar. Now, what is Danar "overcompensating" for? She's (obviously) overcompensating for her drive to cooperate with Mitchell (or any member of the opposite sex) for procreation, right?
This is my point. The "professional" woman, the woman who wants to pursue a career, is often opposed to the "obedient conservative housewife" in the popular imagination, largely because the two images are opposed to each other ON TELEVISION. Think about it--is there any reason why a Christian man should be concerned that his wife might be interested in pursuing a career of her own? Of course not. Husbands and wives can work together, and I think they SHOULD work together, if for no reason other than that working together strengthens the marriage bond. However, our society would have it otherwise. We have all grown up in a society that tells us--again, largely through television--that to be a professional woman is fundamentally opposed to being a wife and mother, and this ridiculous idea has probably resulted in the ruin of more marriages and relationships than any other single cultural motif. Why should a woman consider having children at odds with having a career? After all, if MEN have had both children and careers for 6000 years, then I certainly don't believe that WOMEN would find it any more difficult. (Yes, there is pregnancy, but come on, ladies and gentlemen. Any good man is there with his wife through the whole thing, right? It isn't like the coming of a new baby would change HIS life any less than it would his wife's.)
As I pointed out in one of my early posts, there was a time in human history when women vied for the privilege of having babies. Today, we train women to run away from this one singular aspect of their lives that they can experience in a deeper, more powerful way than men can ever imagine, and as a result, childbirth has become almost a curse in certain sectors of our society. This is a far cry from the attitude of the Bible writer who said that children are a blessing from the Lord, and it is a far cry from the kind of attitude that Christians should be fostering in their children. This one aspect of our culture, this antagonistic stance toward one of the human race's greatest joys, is something that permeates television right down to its core. The more we refuse to see this cultural value for what it is, the more we will see ourselves adopting the teachings of our television set--at the cost of our families, our children, and our spiritual well-being.
Star Trek--Charlie X
I have to admit that while I used to watch Star Trek (and all of its spin-offs) avidly, as an observer of my culture, I am far more impressed with shows like The Twilight Zone, which portray the unique horrors, prejudices, and selfishness within the human soul in a way which, 5 decades later, is still disturbing. The second Star Trek episode to air--Charlie X--appears to have been an ode to a specific Twilight Zone episode, in fact: "It's A Good Life," the infamous episode which features a young boy with godlike powers who terrorizes the residents of a small town. The episode ends as it began--the town residents, desperate for relief, fail to stop the boy from creating whatever horrors he imagines, and life goes on, much as it had, with no hope in sight for man or beast. The same is true for the officers of the Starship Enterprise in "Charlie X"--with the exception that the godlike beings who give Charlie his fearsome powers show up at the end of the episode and rescue the ship from what must certainly be a slave existence to a teenager's ghoulish whims.
I like the theme of a young boy given supernatural powers who begins to use those powers irresponsibly because I think it demonstrates one of the basic truths evident about our race from the very beginnings of its existence: that we are selfish beasts who, with an ounce of real power, would wreak havoc and devastation on our brethren (and our universe) if we could. However, the problem with this episode is the same problem that I have with Star Trek as a whole--Roddenberry's optimistic futurism. Yes, the actions of a teenage boy demonstrate that human beings are not ready for the kind of power that they often wish they could possess, However, look at the power that the crew members on the Starship Enterprise themselves possess--the ability to break the space-time continuum to reach other solar systems in a matter of hours or days, the ability to dissolve others into atoms with the use of a phaser, the ability to transport out of their ship to a planet's surface using matter/energy conversion, the ability to produce synthetic food for themselves at will, and the ability to cure diseases that kill most of us in our century. Then we have the godlike beings who eventually take the boy back into their own custody--a subtle promise that perhaps the human potential is far greater than simple feats like warp drive and matter/energy transport.
Futurists like Roddenberry paint a picture of the human race as a continually improving species, constantly acquiring new powers and abilities until it reaches a godlike status . . . but history has shown that with each new "power" we gain, we seem to grow more beastlike in our ruthlessness toward others. World wars? Genocides? Economic oppression and enslavement? These 3 elements of human history would not have been possible without the Industrial Revolution. And who can forget the wondrous gains we made as a species after we split the atom? Forty years and 3 generations on the brink of nuclear annihilation, with grave repercussions for their descendants (as we have seen in recent years), and we have still not eliminated the possibility that the world could still go up in the flames of fission's fires. The fact is that human sin, human selfishness, will always result in beings who, at their heart, resemble the little boy in "It's A Good Life" far more than they will ever resemble the crew members of the Starship Enterprise. Roddenberry's subtle (and not so subtle) optimism is at odds with what every believer in Christ understands at his or her core--that we, without God, are damned to walk a dark existence, enslaving, exploiting, and exterminating our brethren. For all their technical accomplishments, the crew of the Enterprise cannot judge Charlie for his grisly actions aboard their ship--because in many ways, they are just like him. This is the fundamental flaw in the premise of optimistic futurism, and it is the fundamental flaw in what this episode of Star Trek aims to teach us about ourselves and the world.
I like the theme of a young boy given supernatural powers who begins to use those powers irresponsibly because I think it demonstrates one of the basic truths evident about our race from the very beginnings of its existence: that we are selfish beasts who, with an ounce of real power, would wreak havoc and devastation on our brethren (and our universe) if we could. However, the problem with this episode is the same problem that I have with Star Trek as a whole--Roddenberry's optimistic futurism. Yes, the actions of a teenage boy demonstrate that human beings are not ready for the kind of power that they often wish they could possess, However, look at the power that the crew members on the Starship Enterprise themselves possess--the ability to break the space-time continuum to reach other solar systems in a matter of hours or days, the ability to dissolve others into atoms with the use of a phaser, the ability to transport out of their ship to a planet's surface using matter/energy conversion, the ability to produce synthetic food for themselves at will, and the ability to cure diseases that kill most of us in our century. Then we have the godlike beings who eventually take the boy back into their own custody--a subtle promise that perhaps the human potential is far greater than simple feats like warp drive and matter/energy transport.
Futurists like Roddenberry paint a picture of the human race as a continually improving species, constantly acquiring new powers and abilities until it reaches a godlike status . . . but history has shown that with each new "power" we gain, we seem to grow more beastlike in our ruthlessness toward others. World wars? Genocides? Economic oppression and enslavement? These 3 elements of human history would not have been possible without the Industrial Revolution. And who can forget the wondrous gains we made as a species after we split the atom? Forty years and 3 generations on the brink of nuclear annihilation, with grave repercussions for their descendants (as we have seen in recent years), and we have still not eliminated the possibility that the world could still go up in the flames of fission's fires. The fact is that human sin, human selfishness, will always result in beings who, at their heart, resemble the little boy in "It's A Good Life" far more than they will ever resemble the crew members of the Starship Enterprise. Roddenberry's subtle (and not so subtle) optimism is at odds with what every believer in Christ understands at his or her core--that we, without God, are damned to walk a dark existence, enslaving, exploiting, and exterminating our brethren. For all their technical accomplishments, the crew of the Enterprise cannot judge Charlie for his grisly actions aboard their ship--because in many ways, they are just like him. This is the fundamental flaw in the premise of optimistic futurism, and it is the fundamental flaw in what this episode of Star Trek aims to teach us about ourselves and the world.
Friday, June 18, 2010
G.I.Joe: The Revenge of G.I.Joe
This cartoon movie was essentially the finale of the G.I.Joe cartoon series that flourished in the 1980's era of toy/cartoon marketing. The whole purpose of the cartoon series, of course, was to advertise a line of toys and action figures under the G.I.Joe trademark, and as such, the series worked well. However, aside from the commercialistic aspects of the show, which were good enough reason for any responsible parent to avoid it, the series had a few other issues which made (and still make) it particularly troublesome for Christian parents.
I very much believe in Paul's words in Roman 13, that Christians are to respect their government in whatever lands they live, and as such, I have no problem with my nation's government--or ANY nation's government--protecting its citizens from outside threats through force of arms. However, there is a difference between accepting what, for any believer, should be a simple fact of life and teaching my children (or anyone else) to kill, to maim, and to assault others. The bottom line is that, for all its patriotism, G.I.Joe is a show in which characters shoot each other, fire missiles at each other, and bomb each other--without casualties. Jet pilots bail out at the last minute before their planes go down, sailors jump off patrol boats as they explode, and no one leaves a firefight with as much as a hangnail. This is a major problem, because it teaches children that (1) violence is fun (a lesson that I believe any Christian should never want his or her children to learn) and (2) that violence does not have any serious consequences. These are lessons which can have dreadful consequences in the lives of children, and they can lead to even more dreadful consequences in the lives of others. A boy who grows up with no sense that violence is dangerous, that it irreparably damages both its victims and their families, will become an immense danger both to himself and to others.
With that in mind, let's consider the premise of the movie which serves effectively as the series finale. Once again, we have the 2 factions (G.I.Joe, representing America's military superstructure, and C.O.B.R.A., a transnational army with designs on global domination) duking it out, except that this time, it appears that a secret civilization buried beneath the Arctic for thousands of years has decided to lend C.O.B.R.A. a hand. In essence, they have been using COBRA to wage a secret war against the human race (COBRA Commander, as it turns out, is one of these aliens), because, in their view, we are barbarians who use clunky machines in imitation of the biological technology of their species. There are two problems here (aside from the fact that COBRA Commander, after being condemned to a slow death of genetic mutation by his own brethren, becomes a good guy--wasn't this the same COBRA Commander who, in the FIRST G.I.Joe movie (the MASS Device) ruled a nation of mind-controlled slaves and conducted barbarous "gladiator" contests in which slaves fought to the death?):
1. If the aliens were so dependent on biological technology, why couldn't they have dominated the human race, even from the Arctic? (One has only to imagine giant squids flying through the skies to see that biological technology is superior to anything man's cutting, welding, and designing skills have managed to create.)
2. More importantly, the entire plot of the movie is based on a Darwinian premise--that species grow and evolve in order to perpetuate their own existence. This is a fine theory, and it is well-taught in most of our public schools, but the premise of the movie is one which a Christian cannot except for a simple reason: By its very nature, Christianity must accept as a general premise that human beings are CREATED. If we simply evolved from a more animal-like form, then every tenet of Christianity--our accountability to God, sin, redemption--falls like dominoes under the weight of man's own adaptability. We become, in essence, our own judges, the authors and finishers of our own existence, unable to call on an outside source to help us make sense of ourselves. In short, we become . . . lost, without hope. The whole problem I have with evolution as a Christian (aside from the fact that it is perfectly ridiculous to expect a species that can bench press 300 pounds to want to become a race of intelligent, but physically weak, beings) is that it leaves its adherents without hope. After all, why should we want to "evolve" into more mature, more responsible beings if we can, by brute strength, get what we want from the backs of others? Why should we care about little things like children or babies or sick people if evolution is the principle by which we guide our existence? Most importantly, if we are the masters of our physical (and metaphysical) fates, then on what basis can we justify ANY depth of morality as something other than the whim of chance, fortune, and powerful men and women? These are questions which I would hope any Christian would ask whenever the subject comes up, and they are studiously NOT asked when they are introduced in children's television programs such as G.I.Joe. After all, in a struggle between humans and another, ancient species, we see, in the end, that it is the species with the most strength and the best weapons that wins in the end--even if those attributes are cloaked in patriotism and clarion cries of "Yo Joe!"
I very much believe in Paul's words in Roman 13, that Christians are to respect their government in whatever lands they live, and as such, I have no problem with my nation's government--or ANY nation's government--protecting its citizens from outside threats through force of arms. However, there is a difference between accepting what, for any believer, should be a simple fact of life and teaching my children (or anyone else) to kill, to maim, and to assault others. The bottom line is that, for all its patriotism, G.I.Joe is a show in which characters shoot each other, fire missiles at each other, and bomb each other--without casualties. Jet pilots bail out at the last minute before their planes go down, sailors jump off patrol boats as they explode, and no one leaves a firefight with as much as a hangnail. This is a major problem, because it teaches children that (1) violence is fun (a lesson that I believe any Christian should never want his or her children to learn) and (2) that violence does not have any serious consequences. These are lessons which can have dreadful consequences in the lives of children, and they can lead to even more dreadful consequences in the lives of others. A boy who grows up with no sense that violence is dangerous, that it irreparably damages both its victims and their families, will become an immense danger both to himself and to others.
With that in mind, let's consider the premise of the movie which serves effectively as the series finale. Once again, we have the 2 factions (G.I.Joe, representing America's military superstructure, and C.O.B.R.A., a transnational army with designs on global domination) duking it out, except that this time, it appears that a secret civilization buried beneath the Arctic for thousands of years has decided to lend C.O.B.R.A. a hand. In essence, they have been using COBRA to wage a secret war against the human race (COBRA Commander, as it turns out, is one of these aliens), because, in their view, we are barbarians who use clunky machines in imitation of the biological technology of their species. There are two problems here (aside from the fact that COBRA Commander, after being condemned to a slow death of genetic mutation by his own brethren, becomes a good guy--wasn't this the same COBRA Commander who, in the FIRST G.I.Joe movie (the MASS Device) ruled a nation of mind-controlled slaves and conducted barbarous "gladiator" contests in which slaves fought to the death?):
1. If the aliens were so dependent on biological technology, why couldn't they have dominated the human race, even from the Arctic? (One has only to imagine giant squids flying through the skies to see that biological technology is superior to anything man's cutting, welding, and designing skills have managed to create.)
2. More importantly, the entire plot of the movie is based on a Darwinian premise--that species grow and evolve in order to perpetuate their own existence. This is a fine theory, and it is well-taught in most of our public schools, but the premise of the movie is one which a Christian cannot except for a simple reason: By its very nature, Christianity must accept as a general premise that human beings are CREATED. If we simply evolved from a more animal-like form, then every tenet of Christianity--our accountability to God, sin, redemption--falls like dominoes under the weight of man's own adaptability. We become, in essence, our own judges, the authors and finishers of our own existence, unable to call on an outside source to help us make sense of ourselves. In short, we become . . . lost, without hope. The whole problem I have with evolution as a Christian (aside from the fact that it is perfectly ridiculous to expect a species that can bench press 300 pounds to want to become a race of intelligent, but physically weak, beings) is that it leaves its adherents without hope. After all, why should we want to "evolve" into more mature, more responsible beings if we can, by brute strength, get what we want from the backs of others? Why should we care about little things like children or babies or sick people if evolution is the principle by which we guide our existence? Most importantly, if we are the masters of our physical (and metaphysical) fates, then on what basis can we justify ANY depth of morality as something other than the whim of chance, fortune, and powerful men and women? These are questions which I would hope any Christian would ask whenever the subject comes up, and they are studiously NOT asked when they are introduced in children's television programs such as G.I.Joe. After all, in a struggle between humans and another, ancient species, we see, in the end, that it is the species with the most strength and the best weapons that wins in the end--even if those attributes are cloaked in patriotism and clarion cries of "Yo Joe!"
Star Trek TOS--The Man Trap
Star Trek
This show has become the universally acknowledged "god" of the sci-fi television genre, with 4 (count 'em, 4) spin-offs, each of which lasted far longer than the original series did on the air. The show's creator, Gene Roddenberry, was an atheist, and his perspective heavily influenced the content of the show (which is why, even though there are references to the Bible and Christianity in several episodes, these references are to "mythical" events rather than to legitimate beliefs that one or more Federation representatives hold). This is a very important aspect of Star Trek that any viewer--particularly any viewer who is Christian--must keep in mind, because by its very nature, Star Trek is a show that enthusiastically endorses atheism as its principle guiding social and cultural informant, a philosophy that, as anyone who believes in the Christian God (or any god) can attest, is diametrically opposed to the principle of believing in something beyond ourselves as creator, originator, designer.
Now, let's take a look at the very first episode of this show to air--The Man Trap.
1966 was an important year in the evolution of American culture, a transitional year which saw the advent of civil rights voices that challenged Martin Luther King's stance of passive nonresistance to racial oppression, the feminist movement, and (most importantly) the anti-war movement. The anti-war movement had, as its centerpiece, what we in America today call the "counterculture"--a movement based largely on Eastern mysticism--which became the catalyst of a fundamental cultural shift in America between the kind of society that had existed in the early twentieth century and the society that exists now. All of our major cultural practices--including popular music, clothing, and even slang--have been influenced, in large part, by this movement, and it is in this context, and only in this context, that the instant cult popularity of Star Trek, which first aired in September of 1966, can be understood.
Let's look at the first two segments of the show (the teaser, which occurs at the beginning of all Star Trek shows, including the spin-offs, and the first full segment). Immediately, amongst all the set designs and special effects (which were quite advanced for that era), we can see 3 aspects of the show that revolutionized the way people "saw" their culture on television during that era--the presence of a non-human alien with devilish ears and a coldly logical way of perceiving the universe, the presence of an African-American officer on board the equivalent of a naval ship serving with Caucasians, and (of course) the standard Starfleet-issue uniform for female officers (tight, with ample exposure of legs and cleavage). I am not, at this point, going to comment on the merits of these 3 elements of the show--everyone can see, for example, how important it was in the year after the Civil Rights Act that an African-American appear among whites on television as an equal--but I do want to point at here that all 3 elements are indicative of values within the counterculture movement: a destruction of social boundaries, a deconstruction of sexual traditions and mores, and a rejection of Christianity (then rightfully seen as an aid in global oppression) as a perspective that could serve to inform the way Americans perceive the world. Is it any wonder, then, that this little show, which was almost axed before it began to air, gained such a fanatical following amongst members of the counterculture?
Personally, I have no animosity toward the 1960's counterculture. (How can I, when such a large part of my world has been shaped by it?) However, I do want to emphasize that the counterculture enthusiastically embraced a rejection of Christianity--particularly institutional Christianity--as a foundational lens through which Americans could view the world. To be fair, let's remember that during this decade, as well as the previous decade, Christianity had been used as an excuse for racial oppression, for wars all over the globe, and (in the memories of Europeans) for the exploitation of peoples who were less technologically savvy than the citizens of the West. In many ways, the counterculture's rejection of Christianity was well-justified, and as someone who shares that counterculture's wariness of institutional religion, I also share their distaste for the kinds of ideological compromises that institutional Christians have been willing to make over the past 1500 centuries to justify atrocities that would have shamed Paul and the rest of Jesus' disciples. However, I do not share the movement's rejection of Christ himself, and this is a fundamental difference that I, and any born again believer in Christ Jesus, will always have with that movement.
Now, the premise of "The Man Trap" is that an alien being, masquerading as an archeologist's wife, assumes different guises, infiltrating the star-ship Enterprise in its quest for salt . . . a quest that becomes a predatory search for vulnerable human bodies which contain salt. This in itself is a plot device known to sci-fi fans as a "monster of the week" episode, and it ends, as most "monster" episodes do, with the monster discovered, quarantined, or (in this case) killed. Notice, however, what the show's producer seems to be saying about male-female relationships here. For example, Dr. McCoy's one connection to the archeologist is a previous affair with the archeologist's wife that he had enjoyed before she married (and which he seems to be yearning to continue in this episode). Also, the first crew death that occurs in this episode involves a man who, after seeing a mental projection of a woman he had presumably been intimate with on a pleasure planet, is lured to his doom by the monster. This is, again, a perfectly acceptable plot device, but notice what both of these elements of the show are saying about male-female relationships--that knowing someone well before having sex with that person is not important, that whether or not that person is married is not important, and (because the monster assumes both genders during the show) that whether or not that person is a member of the opposite sex is not important. This is a hard realization to face, but it is one of the guiding principles of most television writing since the 1960's, so we need to be aware of it whenever we see portrayals of romance on television.
The most important part of the show, of course, is the speech given by the archeologist himself:
"She was the last of her kind . . . Earth history, remember? Like the passenger pigeon or the buffalo . . . once there were millions of them, prairies black with them. One herd covered three whole states, and they moved like thunder . . . the creatures here, once there were millions of them. Now there's one left."
This series of lines is the heart--the "lesson" of the show--but why, a believer in Christ might ask, should anyone be concerned about the destruction of an animal species (or, in this case, a species of monsters) if he or she does not believe they were created by an external God? If the development of species is accidental or due to the concept of survival of the fittest, then what value is there in preserving a species that obviously did not survive well enough to avoid extinction? This is the fundamental flaw, not only in the show's plot but within the movement it portrays--environmentalism. Yes, it is important to protect animal species that are dying--in fact, I think it is one of the primary concerns that Christians should have in our era--but the reason has nothing to do with preserving the natural balance or maintaining biodiversity. It is simply because those species--like us--have been created by a loving God who cares about them as much as He cares about us. Our foolishness, our tampering with the environment and with nature's order (God's order) has brought about the environmental nightmares we have witnessed every decade since the advent of the Industrial Revolution. How can environmentalists, many of whom share the same rejection of Christianity that the counterculture exhibited, ever hope to justify the sacrifices needed to save species of animals from extinction without a God, without a Creator, without a Supreme Being to whom we (and those animals) are accountable? This is the fundamental flaw within environmentalism and why, even though it has made strides in our society, it will not win more adherents within the ranks of conservative Christianity. Whether or not it should--whether or not Christians should embrace the protection of endangered species--is, I think, a matter of personal conviction and one on which I think Christians can legitimately disagree. However, my point here is that the environmentalism promoted in this episode of Star Trek is, at its core, fundamentally opposed to the environmentalism promoted in the Bible, because the environmentalism of the Bible has, as its fundamental concern, a devotion to Jesus Christ, rather than to animals. Without that devotion to Jesus Christ, we are left with merely a soulless moralism, a moralism as cold and lifeless as that promoted by the Pharisees.
That moralism guides much of what we do in our society today. It is, indeed, part of the spirit of this age, and as Star Trek reflected the moralistic spirit of the 1960's counterculture, so television, in all its guises, reflects the moralistic spirit of our era. Understanding that is our key to understanding the extent to which our era--and indeed we ourselves--have allowed ourselves to fall under the teachings of men and spirits who do not confess the beauty, the love, and the lordship of Jesus Christ.
This show has become the universally acknowledged "god" of the sci-fi television genre, with 4 (count 'em, 4) spin-offs, each of which lasted far longer than the original series did on the air. The show's creator, Gene Roddenberry, was an atheist, and his perspective heavily influenced the content of the show (which is why, even though there are references to the Bible and Christianity in several episodes, these references are to "mythical" events rather than to legitimate beliefs that one or more Federation representatives hold). This is a very important aspect of Star Trek that any viewer--particularly any viewer who is Christian--must keep in mind, because by its very nature, Star Trek is a show that enthusiastically endorses atheism as its principle guiding social and cultural informant, a philosophy that, as anyone who believes in the Christian God (or any god) can attest, is diametrically opposed to the principle of believing in something beyond ourselves as creator, originator, designer.
Now, let's take a look at the very first episode of this show to air--The Man Trap.
1966 was an important year in the evolution of American culture, a transitional year which saw the advent of civil rights voices that challenged Martin Luther King's stance of passive nonresistance to racial oppression, the feminist movement, and (most importantly) the anti-war movement. The anti-war movement had, as its centerpiece, what we in America today call the "counterculture"--a movement based largely on Eastern mysticism--which became the catalyst of a fundamental cultural shift in America between the kind of society that had existed in the early twentieth century and the society that exists now. All of our major cultural practices--including popular music, clothing, and even slang--have been influenced, in large part, by this movement, and it is in this context, and only in this context, that the instant cult popularity of Star Trek, which first aired in September of 1966, can be understood.
Let's look at the first two segments of the show (the teaser, which occurs at the beginning of all Star Trek shows, including the spin-offs, and the first full segment). Immediately, amongst all the set designs and special effects (which were quite advanced for that era), we can see 3 aspects of the show that revolutionized the way people "saw" their culture on television during that era--the presence of a non-human alien with devilish ears and a coldly logical way of perceiving the universe, the presence of an African-American officer on board the equivalent of a naval ship serving with Caucasians, and (of course) the standard Starfleet-issue uniform for female officers (tight, with ample exposure of legs and cleavage). I am not, at this point, going to comment on the merits of these 3 elements of the show--everyone can see, for example, how important it was in the year after the Civil Rights Act that an African-American appear among whites on television as an equal--but I do want to point at here that all 3 elements are indicative of values within the counterculture movement: a destruction of social boundaries, a deconstruction of sexual traditions and mores, and a rejection of Christianity (then rightfully seen as an aid in global oppression) as a perspective that could serve to inform the way Americans perceive the world. Is it any wonder, then, that this little show, which was almost axed before it began to air, gained such a fanatical following amongst members of the counterculture?
Personally, I have no animosity toward the 1960's counterculture. (How can I, when such a large part of my world has been shaped by it?) However, I do want to emphasize that the counterculture enthusiastically embraced a rejection of Christianity--particularly institutional Christianity--as a foundational lens through which Americans could view the world. To be fair, let's remember that during this decade, as well as the previous decade, Christianity had been used as an excuse for racial oppression, for wars all over the globe, and (in the memories of Europeans) for the exploitation of peoples who were less technologically savvy than the citizens of the West. In many ways, the counterculture's rejection of Christianity was well-justified, and as someone who shares that counterculture's wariness of institutional religion, I also share their distaste for the kinds of ideological compromises that institutional Christians have been willing to make over the past 1500 centuries to justify atrocities that would have shamed Paul and the rest of Jesus' disciples. However, I do not share the movement's rejection of Christ himself, and this is a fundamental difference that I, and any born again believer in Christ Jesus, will always have with that movement.
Now, the premise of "The Man Trap" is that an alien being, masquerading as an archeologist's wife, assumes different guises, infiltrating the star-ship Enterprise in its quest for salt . . . a quest that becomes a predatory search for vulnerable human bodies which contain salt. This in itself is a plot device known to sci-fi fans as a "monster of the week" episode, and it ends, as most "monster" episodes do, with the monster discovered, quarantined, or (in this case) killed. Notice, however, what the show's producer seems to be saying about male-female relationships here. For example, Dr. McCoy's one connection to the archeologist is a previous affair with the archeologist's wife that he had enjoyed before she married (and which he seems to be yearning to continue in this episode). Also, the first crew death that occurs in this episode involves a man who, after seeing a mental projection of a woman he had presumably been intimate with on a pleasure planet, is lured to his doom by the monster. This is, again, a perfectly acceptable plot device, but notice what both of these elements of the show are saying about male-female relationships--that knowing someone well before having sex with that person is not important, that whether or not that person is married is not important, and (because the monster assumes both genders during the show) that whether or not that person is a member of the opposite sex is not important. This is a hard realization to face, but it is one of the guiding principles of most television writing since the 1960's, so we need to be aware of it whenever we see portrayals of romance on television.
The most important part of the show, of course, is the speech given by the archeologist himself:
"She was the last of her kind . . . Earth history, remember? Like the passenger pigeon or the buffalo . . . once there were millions of them, prairies black with them. One herd covered three whole states, and they moved like thunder . . . the creatures here, once there were millions of them. Now there's one left."
This series of lines is the heart--the "lesson" of the show--but why, a believer in Christ might ask, should anyone be concerned about the destruction of an animal species (or, in this case, a species of monsters) if he or she does not believe they were created by an external God? If the development of species is accidental or due to the concept of survival of the fittest, then what value is there in preserving a species that obviously did not survive well enough to avoid extinction? This is the fundamental flaw, not only in the show's plot but within the movement it portrays--environmentalism. Yes, it is important to protect animal species that are dying--in fact, I think it is one of the primary concerns that Christians should have in our era--but the reason has nothing to do with preserving the natural balance or maintaining biodiversity. It is simply because those species--like us--have been created by a loving God who cares about them as much as He cares about us. Our foolishness, our tampering with the environment and with nature's order (God's order) has brought about the environmental nightmares we have witnessed every decade since the advent of the Industrial Revolution. How can environmentalists, many of whom share the same rejection of Christianity that the counterculture exhibited, ever hope to justify the sacrifices needed to save species of animals from extinction without a God, without a Creator, without a Supreme Being to whom we (and those animals) are accountable? This is the fundamental flaw within environmentalism and why, even though it has made strides in our society, it will not win more adherents within the ranks of conservative Christianity. Whether or not it should--whether or not Christians should embrace the protection of endangered species--is, I think, a matter of personal conviction and one on which I think Christians can legitimately disagree. However, my point here is that the environmentalism promoted in this episode of Star Trek is, at its core, fundamentally opposed to the environmentalism promoted in the Bible, because the environmentalism of the Bible has, as its fundamental concern, a devotion to Jesus Christ, rather than to animals. Without that devotion to Jesus Christ, we are left with merely a soulless moralism, a moralism as cold and lifeless as that promoted by the Pharisees.
That moralism guides much of what we do in our society today. It is, indeed, part of the spirit of this age, and as Star Trek reflected the moralistic spirit of the 1960's counterculture, so television, in all its guises, reflects the moralistic spirit of our era. Understanding that is our key to understanding the extent to which our era--and indeed we ourselves--have allowed ourselves to fall under the teachings of men and spirits who do not confess the beauty, the love, and the lordship of Jesus Christ.
New Direction for My Blog
Lately, I have been thinking about how uncritically most of us--especially those of us who come to our culture from a Christian perspective--view television. Let's face it--our role vis-a-vis television is that of passive recipient of broadcast data, not that of keen cultural observers attempting to discern the spirit of the times. Most of us look at television as a convenient 30 minute or one hour escape from life's problems, a chance to "veg out" and get away from it all. However, as much as television has become our best friend--in ways that perhaps our spouses and children have ceased to be to us--it has also, in a very real sense, become a doorway for values and principles that are, at best, alien to the Christian mind.
It is not my intent here to advocate some sort of half-baked legalism that would have committed Christians throwing away their televisions for the sake of their spiritual well-being. Legalism has never served Christianity well, and I personally believe that the grace of Christ Jesus allows us to make decisions that may not reflect the same convictions that other believers in Christ might not have. However, I think that every Christian--no matter what background or experiences that Christian has--should have a clear understanding of the cultural values that are reflected on the small screen, and we should all--Christian or not--be willing to examine, to question what we see on that screen.
With that in mind, I would like to focus my blog on examining one of America's greatest television genres--the sci-fi genre. Though this genre seems to have faded in the wake of reality television, it still has a captivating hold on the American imagination, and therefore, it deserves serious scrutiny, both from a Christian and from a culturally critical frame of reference. What values does this genre seem to be advocating? In what ways has the sci-fi genre shaped the American cultural consciousness, the way we view God, the way we view life, and the way we view ourselves as a nation? These are questions that I will explore in my next few posts.
With that in mind, I would like to begin by examining the one show that, in a powerful way, has come to define the genre--Star Trek.
It is not my intent here to advocate some sort of half-baked legalism that would have committed Christians throwing away their televisions for the sake of their spiritual well-being. Legalism has never served Christianity well, and I personally believe that the grace of Christ Jesus allows us to make decisions that may not reflect the same convictions that other believers in Christ might not have. However, I think that every Christian--no matter what background or experiences that Christian has--should have a clear understanding of the cultural values that are reflected on the small screen, and we should all--Christian or not--be willing to examine, to question what we see on that screen.
With that in mind, I would like to focus my blog on examining one of America's greatest television genres--the sci-fi genre. Though this genre seems to have faded in the wake of reality television, it still has a captivating hold on the American imagination, and therefore, it deserves serious scrutiny, both from a Christian and from a culturally critical frame of reference. What values does this genre seem to be advocating? In what ways has the sci-fi genre shaped the American cultural consciousness, the way we view God, the way we view life, and the way we view ourselves as a nation? These are questions that I will explore in my next few posts.
With that in mind, I would like to begin by examining the one show that, in a powerful way, has come to define the genre--Star Trek.
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