PLAYBOY: "Popular songs," you told a reporter last year, "are the only art form that describes the temper of the times. The only place where it's happening is on the radio and records. That's where the people hang out. It's not in books; it's not on the stage; it's not in the galleries. All this art they've been talking about, it just remains on the shelf. It doesn't make anyone happier." In view of the fact that more people than ever before are reading books and going to plays and art galleries, do you think that statement is borne out by the facts?
BOB DYLAN: Statistics measure quantity, not quality. The people in the statistics are people who are very bored. Art, if there is such a thing, is in the bathrooms; everybody knows that. To go to an art-gallery thing where you get free milk and doughnuts and where there is a rock 'n' roll band playing: That's just a status affair. I'm not putting it down, mind you; but I spend a lot of time in the bathroom. I think museums are vulgar. They're all against sex. Anyhow, I didn't say that people "hang out" on the radio, I said they get "hung up" on the radio.
PLAYBOY: Why do you think rock 'n' roll has become such an international phenomenon?
BOB DYLAN: I can't really think that there is any rock 'n' roll. Actually, when you think about it, anything that has no real existence is bound to become an international phenomenon. Anyway, what does it mean, rock 'n' roll? Does it mean Beatles, does it mean John Lee Hooker, Bobby Vinton, Jerry Lewis' kid? What about Lawrence Welk? He must play a few rock-'n'-roll songs. Are all these people the same? Is Ricky Nelson like Otis Redding? Is Mick Jagger really Ma Rainey? I can tell by the way people hold their cigarettes if they like Ricky Nelson. I think it's fine to like Ricky Nelson; I couldn't care less if somebody likes Ricky Nelson. But I think we're getting off the track here. There isn't any Ricky Nelson. There isn't any Beatles; oh, I take that back; there are a lot of beetles. But there isn't any Bobby Vinton. Anyway, the word is not "international phenomenon"; the word is "parental nightmare."
PLAYBOY: In recent years, according to some critics, jazz has lost much of its appeal to the younger generation. Do you agree?BOB DYLAN: I don't think jazz has ever appealed to the younger generation. Anyway, I don't really know who this younger generation is. I don't think they could get into a jazz club anyway. But jazz is hard to follow; I mean you actually have to like jazz to follow it; and my motto is, never follow anything. I don't know what the motto of the younger generation is, but I would think they'd have to follow their parents. I mean, what would some parent say to his kid if the kid came home with a glass eye, a Charlie Mingus record and a pocketful of feathers? He'd say, "Who are you following?" And the poor kid would have to stand there with water in his shoes, a bow tie on his ear and soot pouring out of his belly button and say, "Jazz, Father, I've been following jazz." And his father would probably say, "Get a broom and clean up all that soot before you go to sleep." Then the kid's mother would tell her friends, "Oh yes, our little Donald, he's part of the younger generation, you know."PLAYBOY: You used to say that you wanted to perform as little as possible, that you wanted to keep most of your time to yourself. Yet you're doing more concerts and cutting more records every year. Why? Is it the money?
BOB DYLAN: Everything is changed now from before. Last spring, I guess I was going to quit singing. I was very drained, and the way things were going, it was a very draggy situation—I mean, when you do Everybody Loves You for Your Black Eye, and meanwhile the back of your head is caving in. Anyway, I was playing a lot of songs I didn't want to play. I was singing words I didn't really want to sing. I don't mean words like "God" and "mother" and "President" and "suicide" and "meat cleaver." I mean simple little words like "if" and "hope" and "you." But Like a Rolling Stone changed it all; I didn't care anymore after that about writing books or poems or whatever. I mean it was something that I myself could dig. It's very tiring having other people tell you how much they dig you if you yourself don't dig you. It's also very deadly entertainmentwise. Contrary to what some scary people think, I don't play with a band now for any kind of propaganda-type or commercial-type reasons. It's just that my songs are pictures and the band makes the sound of the pictures.
PLAYBOY: Do you feel that acquiring a combo and switching from folk to folk-rock has improved you as a performer?
BOB DYLAN: I'm not interested in myself as a performer. Performers are people who perform for other people. Unlike actors, I know what I'm saying. It's very simple in my mind. It doesn't matter what kind of audience reaction this whole thing gets. What happens on the stage is straight. It doesn't expect any rewards or fines from any kind of outside agitators. It's ultra-simple, and would exist whether anybody was looking or not.
As far as folk and folk-rock are concerned, it doesn't matter what kind of nasty names people invent for the music. It could be called arsenic music, or perhaps Phaedra music. I don't think that such a word as folk-rock has anything to do with it. And folk music is a word I can't use. Folk music is a bunch of fat people. I have to think of all this as traditional music. Traditional music is based on hexagrams. It comes about from legends, Bibles, plagues, and it revolves around vegetables and death. There's nobody that's going to kill traditional music. All these songs about roses growing out of people's brains and lovers who are really geese and swans that turn into angels—they're not going to die. It's all those paranoid people who think that someone's going to come and take away their toilet paper—they're going to die. Songs like Which Side Are You On? and I Love You, Porgy—they're not folk-music songs; they're political songs. They're already dead. Obviously, death is not very universally accepted. I mean, you'd think that the traditional-music people could gather from their songs that mystery—just plain simple mystery—is a fact, a traditional fact. I listen to the old ballads; but I wouldn't go to a party and listen to the old ballads. I could give you descriptive detail of what they do to me, but some people would probably think my imagination had gone mad. It strikes me funny that people actually have the gall to think that I have some kind of fantastic imagination. It gets very lonesome. But anyway, traditional music is too unreal to die. It doesn't need to be protected. Nobody's going to hurt it. In that music is the only true, valid death you can feel today off a record player. But like anything else in great demand, people try to own it. It has to do with a purity thing. I think its meaninglessness is holy. Everybody knows that I'm not a folk singer.
PLAYBOY: Some of your old fans would agree with you—and not in a complimentary vein—since your debut with the rock-'n'-roll combo at last year's Newport Folk Festival, where many of them booed you loudly for "selling out" to commercial pop tastes. The early Bob Dylan, they felt, was the "pure" Bob Dylan. How do you feel about it?
BOB DYLAN: I was kind of stunned. But I can't put anybody down for coming and booing; after all, they paid to get in. They could have been maybe a little quieter and not so persistent, though. There were a lot of old people there, too; lots of whole families had driven down from Vermont, lots of nurses and their parents, and well, like they just came to hear some relaxing hoedowns, you know, maybe an Indian polka or two. And just when everything's going all right, here I come on, and the whole place turns into a beer factory. There were a lot of people there who were very pleased that I got booed. I saw them afterward. I do resent somewhat, though, that everybody that booed said they did it because they were old fans.
PLAYBOY: What about their charge that you vulgarized your natural gifts?
BOB DYLAN: What can I say? I'd like to see one of these so-called fans. I'd like to have him blindfolded and brought to me. It's like going out to the desert and screaming, and then having little kids throw their sandbox at you. I'm only 24. These people that said this—were they Americans?
PLAYBOY: Americans or not, there were a lot of people who didn't like your new sound. In view of this widespread negative reaction, do you think you may have made a mistake in changing your style?
BOB DYLAN: A mistake is to commit a misunderstanding. There could be no such thing, anyway, as this action. Either people understand or they pretend to understand—or else they really don't understand. What you're speaking of here is doing wrong things for selfish reasons. I don't know the word for that, unless it's suicide. In any case, it has nothing to do with my music.
PLAYBOY: Mistake or not, what made you decide to go the rock-'n'-roll route?
BOB DYLAN: Carelessness. I lost my one true love. I started drinking. The first thing I know, I'm in a card game. Then I'm in a crap game. I wake up in a pool hall. Then this big Mexican lady drags me off the table, takes me to Philadelphia. She leaves me alone in her house, and it burns down. I wind up in Phoenix. I get a job as a Chinaman. I start working in a dime store, and move in with a 13-year-old girl. Then this big Mexican lady from Philadelphia comes in and burns the house down. I go down to Dallas. I get a job as a "before" in a Charles Atlas "before and after" ad. I move in with a delivery boy who can cook fantastic chili and hot dogs. Then this 13-year-old girl from Phoenix comes and burns the house down. The delivery boy—he ain't so mild: He gives her the knife, and the next thing I know I'm in Omaha. It's so cold there, by this time I'm robbing my own bicycles and frying my own fish. I stumble onto some luck and get a job as a carburetor out at the hot-rod races every Thursday night. I move in with a high school teacher who also does a little plumbing on the side, who ain't much to look at, but who's built a special kind of refrigerator that can turn newspaper into lettuce. Everything's going good until that delivery boy shows up and tries to knife me. Needless to say, he burned the house down, and I hit the road. The first guy that picked me up asked me if I wanted to be a star. What could I say?
PLAYBOY: And that's how you became a rock 'n' roll singer?
BOB DYLAN: No, that's how I got tuberculosis.
PLAYBOY: Let's turn the question around: Why have you stopped composing and singing protest songs?
BOB DYLAN: I've stopped composing and singing anything that has either a reason to be written or a motive to be sung. Don't get me wrong, now. "Protest" is not my word. I've never thought of myself as such. The word "protest," I think, was made up for people undergoing surgery. It's an amusement-park word. A normal person in his righteous mind would have to have the hiccups to pronounce it honestly. The word "message" strikes me as having a hernia-like sound. It's just like the word "delicious." Also the word "marvelous." You know, the English can say "marvelous" pretty good. They can't say "raunchy" so good, though. Well, we each have our thing. Anyway, message songs, as everybody knows, are a drag. It's only college newspaper editors and single girls under 14 that could possibly have time for them.
PLAYBOY: You've said you think message songs are vulgar. Why?
BOB DYLAN: Well, first of all, anybody that's got a message is going to learn from experience that they can't put it into a song. I mean it's just not going to come out the same message. After one or two of these unsuccessful attempts, one realizes that his resultant message, which is not even the same message he thought up and began with, he's now got to stick by it; because, after all, a song leaves your mouth just as soon as it leaves your hands. Are you following me?PLAYBOY: Oh, perfectly.
BOB DYLAN: Well, anyway, second of all, you've got to respect other people's right to also have a message themselves. Myself, what I'm going to do is rent Town Hall and put about 30 Western Union boys on the bill. I mean, then there'll really be some messages. People will be able to come and hear more messages than they've ever heard before in their life.
PLAYBOY: But your early ballads have been called "songs of passionate protest." Wouldn't that make them "message" music?
BOB DYLAN: This is unimportant. Don't you understand? I've been writing since I was eight years old. I've been playing the guitar since I was ten. I was raised playing and writing whatever it was I had to play and write.
PLAYBOY: Would it be unfair to say, then, as some have, that you were motivated commercially rather than creatively in writing the kind of songs that made you popular?
BOB DYLAN: All right, now, look. It's not all that deep. It's not a complicated thing. My motives, or whatever they are, were never commercial in the money sense of the word. It was more in the don't-die-by-the-hacksaw sense of the word. I never did it for money. It happened, and I let it happen to me. There was no reason not to let it happen to me. I couldn't have written before what I write now, anyway. The songs used to be about what I felt and saw. Nothing of my own rhythmic vomit ever entered into it. Vomit is not romantic. I used to think songs are supposed to be romantic. And I didn't want to sing anything that was unspecific. Unspecific things have no sense of time. All of us people have no sense of time; it's a dimensional hang-up. Anybody can be specific and obvious. That's always been the easy way. The leaders of the world take the easy way. It's not that it's so difficult to be unspecific and less obvious; it's just that there's nothing, absolutely nothing, to be specific and obvious about. My older songs, to say the least, were about nothing. The newer ones are about the same nothing—only as seen inside a bigger thing, perhaps called the nowhere. But this is all very constipated. I do know what my songs are about.
PLAYBOY: And what's that?
BOB DYLAN: Oh, some are about four minutes; some are about five, and some, believe it or not, are about 11 or 12.
PLAYBOY: Can't you be a bit more informative?
BOB DYLAN: Nope.
PLAYBOY: All right. Let's change the subject. As you know, it's the age group from about 16 to 25 that listens to your songs. Why, in your opinion?
BOB DYLAN: I don't see what's so strange about an age group like that listening to my songs. I'm hip enough to know that it ain't going to be the 85-to-90-year-olds. If the 85-to-90-year-olds were listening to me, they'd know that I can't tell them anything. The 16-to-25-year-olds, they probably know that I can't tell them anything either—and they know that I know it. It's a funny business. Obviously, I'm not an IBM computer any more than I'm an ashtray. I mean it's obvious to anyone who's ever slept in the back seat of a car that I'm just not a schoolteacher.
PLAYBOY: Even though you're not a schoolteacher, wouldn't you like to help the young people who dig you from turning into what some of their parents have become?
BOB DYLAN: Well, I must say that I really don't know their parents. I really don't know if anybody's parents are so bad. Now, I hate to come on like a weakling or a coward, and I realize it might seem kind of irreligious, but I'm really not the right person to tramp around the country saving souls. I wouldn't run over anybody that was laying in the street, and I certainly wouldn't become a hangman. I wouldn't think twice about giving a starving man a cigarette. But I'm not a shepherd. And I'm not about to save anybody from fate, which I know nothing about. "Parents" is not the key word here. The key word is "destiny." I can't save them from that.
PLAYBOY: Still, thousands of young people look up to you as a kind of folk hero. Do you feel some sense of responsibility toward them?
BOB DYLAN: I don't feel I have any responsibility, no. Whoever it is that listens to my songs owes me nothing. How could I possibly have any responsibility to any kind of thousands? What could possibly make me think that I owe anybody anything who just happens to be there? I've never written any song that begins with the words "I've gathered you here tonight..." I'm not about to tell anybody to be a good boy or a good girl and they'll go to heaven. I really don't know what the people who are on the receiving end of these songs think of me, anyway. It's horrible. I'll bet Tony Bennett doesn't have to go through this kind of thing. I wonder what Billy the Kid would have answered to such a question.
PLAYBOY: In their admiration for you, many young people have begun to imitate the way you dress—which one adult commentator has called "self-consciously oddball and defiantly sloppy." What's your reaction to that kind of putdown?
BOB DYLAN: Bullshit. Oh, such bullshit. I know the fellow that said that. He used to come around here and get beat up all the time. He better watch it; some people are after him. They're going to strip him naked and stick him in Times Square. They're going to tie him up, and also put a thermometer in his mouth. Those kind of morbid ideas and remarks are so petty—I mean there's a war going on. People got rickets; everybody wants to start a riot; 40-year-old women are eating spinach by the carload; the doctors haven't got a cure for cancer—and here's some hillbilly talking about how he doesn't like somebody's clothes. Worse than that, it gets printed and innocent people have to read it. This is a terrible thing. And he's a terrible man. Obviously, he's just living off the fat of himself, and he's expecting his kids to take care of him. His kids probably listen to my records. Just because my clothes are too long, does that mean I'm unqualified for what I do?
PLAYBOY: No, but there are those who think it does—and many of them seem to feel the same way about your long hair. But compared with the shoulder-length coiffures worn by some of the male singing groups these days, your tonsorial tastes are on the conservative side. How do you feel about these far-out hairstyles?
BOB DYLAN: The thing that most people don't realize is that it's warmer to have long hair. Everybody wants to be warm. People with short hair freeze easily. Then they try to hide their coldness, and they get jealous of everybody that's warm. Then they become either barbers or congressmen. A lot of prison wardens have short hair. Have you ever noticed that Abraham Lincoln's hair was much longer than John Wilkes Booth's?
PLAYBOY: Do you think Lincoln wore his hair long to keep his head warm?
BOB DYLAN: Actually, I think it was for medical reasons, which are none of my business. But I guess if you figure it out, you realize that all of one's hair surrounds and lays on the brain inside your head. Mathematically speaking, the more of it you can get out of your head, the better. People who want free minds sometimes overlook the fact that you have to have an uncluttered brain. Obviously, if you get your hair on the outside of your head, your brain will be a little more freer. But all this talk about long hair is just a trick. It's been thought up by men and women who look like cigars—the anti-happiness committee. They're all freeloaders and cops. You can tell who they are: They're always carrying calendars, guns or scissors. They're all trying to get into your quicksand. They think you've got something. I don't know why Abe Lincoln had long hair.
PLAYBOY: Until your abandonment of "message" songs, you were considered not only a major voice in the student protest movement but a militant champion of the civil rights struggle. According to friends, you seemed to feel a special bond of kinship with the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, which you actively supported both as a performer and as a worker. Why have you withdrawn from participation in all these causes? Have you lost interest in protest as well as in protest songs?
BOB DYLAN: As far as SNCC is concerned, I knew some of the people in it, but I only knew them as people, not as of any part of something that was bigger or better than themselves. I didn't even know what civil rights was before I met some of them. I mean, I knew there were Negroes, and I knew there were a lot of people who don't like Negroes. But I got to admit that if I didn't know some of the SNCC people, I would have gone on thinking that Martin Luther King was really nothing more than some underprivileged war hero. I haven't lost any interest in protest since then. I just didn't have any interest in protest to begin with—any more than I did in war heroes. You can't lose what you've never had. Anyway, when you don't like your situation, you either leave it or else you overthrow it. You can't just stand around and whine about it. People just get aware of your noise; they really don't get aware of you. Even if they give you what you want, it's only because you're making too much noise. First thing you know, you want something else, and then you want something else, and then you want something else, until finally it isn't a joke anymore, and whoever you're protesting against finally gets all fed up and stomps on everybody. Sure, you can go around trying to bring up people who are lesser than you, but then don't forget, you're messing around with gravity. I don't fight gravity. I do believe in equality, but I also believe in distance.
PLAYBOY: Do you mean people keeping their racial distance?
BOB DYLAN: I believe in people keeping everything they've got.
PLAYBOY: Some people might feel that you're trying to cop out of fighting for the things you believe in.
BOB DYLAN: Those would be people who think I have some sort of responsibility toward them. They probably want me to help them make friends. I don't know. They probably either want to set me in their house and have me come out every hour and tell them what time it is, or else they just want to stick me in between the mattress. How could they possibly understand what I believe in?
PLAYBOY: Well, what do you believe in?
BOB DYLAN: I already told you.
PLAYBOY: All right. Many of your folk-singing colleagues remain actively involved in the fight for civil rights, free speech and withdrawal from Vietnam. Do you think they're wrong?
BOB DYLAN: I don't think they're wrong, if that's what they see themselves doing. But don't think that what you've got out there is a bunch of little Buddhas all parading up and down. People that use God as a weapon should be amputated upon. You see it around here all the time: "Be good or God won't like you, and you'll go to hell." Things like that. People that march with slogans and things tend to take themselves a little too holy. It would be a drag if they, too, started using God as a weapon.
PLAYBOY: Do you think it's pointless to dedicate yourself to the cause of peace and racial equality?
BOB DYLAN: Not pointless to dedicate yourself to peace and racial equality, but rather, it's pointless to dedicate yourself to the cause; that's really pointless. That's very unknowing. To say "cause of peace" is just like saying "hunk of butter." I mean, how can you listen to anybody who wants you to believe he's dedicated to the hunk and not to the butter? People who can't conceive of how others hurt, they're trying to change the world. They're all afraid to admit that they don't really know each other. They'll all probably be here long after we've gone, and we'll give birth to new ones. But they themselves—I don't think they'll give birth to anything.
PLAYBOY: You sound a bit fatalistic.
BOB DYLAN: I'm not fatalistic. Bank tellers are fatalistic; clerks are fatalistic. I'm a farmer. Who ever heard of a fatalistic farmer? I'm not fatalistic. I smoke a lot of cigarettes, but that doesn't make me fatalistic.
PLAYBOY: You were quoted recently as saying that "songs can't save the world. I've gone through all that." We take it you don't share Pete Seeger's belief that songs can change people, that they can help build international understanding.
BOB DYLAN: On the international understanding part, that's OK. But you have a translation problem there. Anybody with this kind of a level of thinking has to also think about this translation thing. But I don't believe songs can change people anyway. I'm not Pinocchio. I consider that an insult. I'm not part of that. I don't blame anybody for thinking that way. But I just don't donate any money to them. I don't consider them anything like unhip; they're more in the rubber-band category.
PLAYBOY: How do you feel about those who have risked imprisonment by burning their draft cards to signify their opposition to U.S. involvement in Vietnam, and by refusing—as your friend Joan Baez has done—to pay their income taxes as a protest against the Government's expenditures on war and weaponry? Do you think they're wasting their time?
BOB DYLAN: Burning draft cards isn't going to end any war. It's not even going to save any lives. If someone can feel more honest with himself by burning his draft card, then that's great; but if he's just going to feel more important because he does it, then that's a drag. I really don't know too much about Joan Baez and her income-tax problems. The only thing I can tell you about Joan Baez is that she's not Belle Starr.
PLAYBOY: Writing about "beard-wearing draft-card burners and pacifist income-tax evaders," one columnist called such protesters "no less outside society than the junkie, the homosexual or the mass murderer." What's your reaction?
BOB DYLAN: I don't believe in those terms. They're too hysterical. They don't describe anything. Most people think that homosexual, gay, queer, queen, faggot are all the same words. Everybody thinks that a junkie is a dope freak. As far as I'm concerned, I don't consider myself outside of anything. I just consider myself not around.
PLAYBOY: Joan Baez recently opened a school in northern California for training civil rights workers in the philosophy and techniques of nonviolence. Are you in sympathy with that concept?
BOB DYLAN: If you mean do I agree with it or not, I really don't see anything to be in agreement with. If you mean has it got my approval, I guess it does, but my approval really isn't going to do it any good. I don't know about other people's sympathy, but my sympathy runs to the lame and crippled and beautiful things. I have a feeling of loss of power—something like a reincarnation feeling; I don't feel that for mechanical things like cars or schools. I'm sure it's a nice school, but if you're asking me would I go to it, I would have to say no.
PLAYBOY: As a college dropout in your freshman year, you seem to take a dim view of schooling in general, whatever the subject.
BOB DYLAN: I really don't think about it.
PLAYBOY: Well, have you ever had any regrets about not completing college?
BOB DYLAN: That would be ridiculous. Colleges are like old-age homes; except for the fact that more people die in colleges than in old-age homes, there's really no difference. People have one great blessing—obscurity—and not really too many people are thankful for it. Everybody is always taught to be thankful for their food and clothes and things like that, but not to be thankful for their obscurity. Schools don't teach that; they teach people to be rebels and lawyers. I'm not going to put down the teaching system; that would be too silly. It's just that it really doesn't have too much to teach. Colleges are part of the American institution; everybody respects them. They're very rich and influential, but they have nothing to do with survival. Everybody knows that.
PLAYBOY: Would you advise young people to skip college, then?
BOB DYLAN: I wouldn't advise anybody to do anything. I certainly wouldn't advise somebody not to go to college; I just wouldn't pay his way through college.
PLAYBOY: Don't you think the things one learns in college can help enrich one's life?
BOB DYLAN: I don't think anything like that is going to enrich my life, no—not my life, anyway. Things are going to happen whether I know why they happen or not. It just gets more complicated when you stick yourself into it. You don't find out why things move. You let them move; you watch them move; you stop them from moving; you start them moving. But you don't sit around and try to figure out why there's movement—unless, of course, you're just an innocent moron, or some wise old Japanese man. Out of all the people who just lay around and ask "Why?", how many do you figure really want to know?
PLAYBOY: Can you suggest a better use for the four years that would otherwise be spent in college?
BOB DYLAN: Well, you could hang around in Italy; you could go to Mexico; you could become a dishwasher; you could even go to Arkansas. I don't know; there are thousands of things to do and places to go. Everybody thinks that you have to bang your head against the wall, but it's silly when you really think about it. I mean, here you have fantastic scientists working on ways to prolong human living, and then you have other people who take it for granted that you have to beat your head against the wall in order to be happy. You can't take everything you don't like as a personal insult. I guess you should go where your wants are bare, where you're invisible and not needed.
PLAYBOY: Would you classify sex among your wants, wherever you go?
BOB DYLAN: Sex is a temporary thing; sex isn't love. You can get sex anywhere. If you're looking for someone to love you, now that's different. I guess you have to stay in college for that.
PLAYBOY: Since you didn't stay in college, does that mean you haven't found someone to love you?
BOB DYLAN: Let's go on to the next question.
PLAYBOY: Do you have any difficulty relating to people—or vice versa?
BOB DYLAN: Well, sometimes I have the feeling that other people want my soul. If I say to them, "I don't have a soul," they say, "I know that. You don't have to tell me that. Not me. How dumb do you think I am? I'm your friend." What can I say except that I'm sorry and I feel bad? I guess maybe feeling bad and paranoia are the same thing.
PLAYBOY: Paranoia is said to be one of the mental states sometimes induced by such hallucinogenic drugs as peyote and LSD. Considering the risks involved, do you think that experimentation with such drugs should be part of the growing-up experience for a young person?
BOB DYLAN: I wouldn't advise anybody to use drugs—certainly not the hard drugs; drugs are medicine. But opium and hash and pot—now, those things aren't drugs; they just bend your mind a little. I think everybody's mind should be bent once in a while. Not by LSD, though. LSD is medicine—a different kind of medicine. It makes you aware of the universe, so to speak; you realize how foolish objects are. But LSD is not for groovy people; it's for mad, hateful people who want revenge. It's for people who usually have heart attacks. They ought to use it at the Geneva Convention.
PLAYBOY: Are you concerned, as you approach 30, that you may begin to "go square," lose some of your openness to experience, become leery of change and new experiment?
BOB DYLAN: No. But if it happens, then it happens. What can I say? There doesn't seem to be any tomorrow. Every time I wake up, no matter in what position, it's always been today. To look ahead and start worrying about trivial little things I can't really say has any more importance than looking back and remembering trivial little things. I'm not going to become any poetry instructor at any girls' school; I know that for sure. But that's about all I know for sure. I'll just keep doing these different things, I guess.
PLAYBOY: Such as?
BOB DYLAN: Waking up in different positions.
PLAYBOY: What else?
BOB DYLAN: I'm just like anybody else; I'll try anything once.
PLAYBOY: Including theft and murder?
BOB DYLAN: I can't really say I wouldn't commit theft or murder and expect anybody to really believe me. I wouldn't believe anybody if they told me that.
PLAYBOY: By their mid-20s, most people have begun to settle into their niche, to find a place in society. But you've managed to remain inner-directed and uncommitted. What was it that spurred you to run away from home six times between the ages of 10 and 18 and finally to leave for good?
BOB DYLAN: It was nothing; it was just an accident of geography. Like if I was born and raised in New York or Kansas City, I'm sure everything would have turned out different. But Hibbing, Minnesota, was just not the right place for me to stay and live. There really was nothing there. The only thing you could do there was be a miner, and even that kind of thing was getting less and less. The people that lived there—they're nice people; I've been all over the world since I left there, and they still stand out as being the least hung-up. The mines were just dying, that's all; but that's not their fault. Everybody about my age left there. It was no great romantic thing. It didn't take any great amount of thinking or individual genius, and there certainly wasn't any pride in it. I didn't run away from it; I just turned my back on it. It couldn't give me anything. It was very void-like. So leaving wasn't hard at all; it would have been much harder to stay. I didn't want to die there. As I think about it now, though, it wouldn't be such a bad place to go back to and die in. There's no place I feel closer to now, or get the feeling that I'm part of, except maybe New York; but I'm not a New Yorker. I'm North Dakota-Minnesota-Midwestern. I'm that color. I speak that way. I'm from someplace called Iron Range. My brains and feeling have come from there. I wouldn't amputate on a drowning man; nobody from out there would.
PLAYBOY: Today, you're on your way to becoming a millionaire. Do you feel in any danger of being trapped by all this affluence—by the things it can buy?
BOB DYLAN: No, my world is very small. Money can't really improve it any; money can just keep it from being smothered.
PLAYBOY: Most big stars find it difficult to avoid getting involved, and sometimes entangled, in managing the business end of their careers. As a man with three thriving careers—as a concert performer, recording star and songwriter—do you ever feel boxed in by such noncreative responsibilities?
BOB DYLAN: No, I've got other people to do that for me. They watch my money; they guard it. They keep their eyes on it at all times; they're supposed to be very smart when it comes to money. They know just what to do with my money. I pay them a lot of it. I don't really speak to them much, and they don't really speak to me at all, so I guess everything is all right.
PLAYBOY: If fortune hasn't trapped you, how about fame? Do you find that your celebrity makes it difficult to keep your private life intact?
BOB DYLAN: My private life has been dangerous from the beginning. All this does is add a little atmosphere.
PLAYBOY: You used to enjoy wandering across the country—taking off on open-end trips, roughing it from town to town, with no particular destination in mind. But you seem to be doing much less of that these days. Why? Is it because you're too well-known?
BOB DYLAN: It's mainly because I have to be in Cincinnati Friday night, and the next night I got to be in Atlanta, and then the next night after that, I have to be in Buffalo. Then I have to write some more songs for a record album.
PLAYBOY: Do you get the chance to ride your motorcycle much anymore?
BOB DYLAN: I'm still very patriotic to the highway, but I don't ride my motorcycle too much anymore, no.
PLAYBOY: How do you get your kicks these days, then?
BOB DYLAN: I hire people to look into my eyes, and then I have them kick me.
PLAYBOY: And that's the way you get your kicks?
BOB DYLAN: No. Then I forgive them; that's where my kicks come in.
PLAYBOY: You told an interviewer last year, "I've done everything I ever wanted to." If that's true, what do you have to look forward to?
BOB DYLAN: Salvation. Just plain salvation.
PLAYBOY: Anything else?
BOB DYLAN: Praying. I'd also like to start a cookbook magazine. And I've always wanted to be a boxing referee. I want to referee a heavyweight championship fight. Can you imagine that? Can you imagine any fighter in his right mind recognizing me?
PLAYBOY: If your popularity were to wane, would you welcome being anonymous again?
BOB DYLAN: You mean welcome it, like I'd welcome some poor pilgrim coming in from the rain? No, I wouldn't welcome it; I'd accept it, though. Someday, obviously, I'm going to have to accept it.
PLAYBOY: Do you ever think about marrying, settling down, having a home, maybe living abroad? Are there any luxuries you'd like to have, say, a yacht or a Rolls-Royce?
BOB DYLAN: No, I don't think about those things. If I felt like buying anything, I'd buy it. What you're asking me about is the future, my future. I'm the last person in the world to ask about my future.
PLAYBOY: Are you saying you're going to be passive and just let things happen to you?
BOB DYLAN: Well, that's being very philosophical about it, but I guess it's true.
PLAYBOY: You once planned to write a novel. Do you still?
BOB DYLAN: I don't think so. All my writing goes into the songs now. Other forms don't interest me anymore.
PLAYBOY: Do you have any unfulfilled ambitions?
BOB DYLAN: Well, I guess I've always wanted to be Anthony Quinn in La Strada. Not always—only for about six years now; it's not one of those childhood-dream things. Oh, and come to think of it, I guess I've always wanted to be Brigitte Bardot, too; but I don't really want to think about that too much.
PLAYBOY: Did you ever have the standard boyhood dream of growing up to be President?
BOB DYLAN: No. When I was a boy, Harry Truman was President; who'd want to be Harry Truman?
PLAYBOY: Well, let's suppose that you were the President. What would you accomplish during your first thousand days?
BOB DYLAN: Well, just for laughs, so long as you insist, the first thing I'd do is probably move the White House. Instead of being in Texas, it'd be on the East Side in New York. McGeorge Bundy would definitely have to change his name, and General McNamara would be forced to wear a coonskin cap and shades. I would immediately rewrite The Star-Spangled Banner, and little schoolchildren, instead of memorizing America the Beautiful, would have to memorize Desolation Row [one of Dylan's latest songs]. And I would immediately call for a showdown with Mao Tse-tung; I would fight him personally—and I'd get somebody to film it.
PLAYBOY: One final question: Even though you've more or less retired from political and social protest, can you conceive of any circumstance that might persuade you to reinvolve yourself?
BOB DYLAN: No, not unless all the people in the world disappeared.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Does Hate Make Life Worth Living?
Lately this thought has been more and more frequent in my mind. As I continue with my schooling I find myself at odds with certain moments in man's narration. There are many times in world history when bad things, what some may even call evil, occur without any resistance. Edmund Burke is attributed, but did not likely say or write, (see http://tartarus.org/~martin/essays/burkequote.html for a complete breakdown of why,) "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing," or something to that effect. My problem is that I don't think the world would be better off without "evil." I think that this "evil," a blanket term which could be used to describe anything unpleasant towards ones perspective, is all that keeps us going.
It may seem off topic from the title, but it is really only a short digression for the purpose of clarification. When we think of evil, do we ask ourselves, "What good will come of this?" No, because evil is by our definition, not good -- the opposite of good, in fact. And yet, when it is all said and done, we cherish the bad occurrences. The maxim, "Out of every cloud a silver lining," can always be applied. In summary, we loathe evil, yet do not hesitate to praise the good it brings.
At first glance this appears to be a contradiction. In reality they are sewn so tightly together that without one, we would cease to have the motivation to exist. What is darkness but the absence of light? Death is the absence of life. "Cold" is created when an environment is made void of the moving particles which generate heat. That is why we measure cold in negative degrees -- counting backwards from the hottest temperature. Furthermore, pleasure could not exist without a concept of pain. If pleasure or pain existed independently, we would never be able to decipher which one we were feeling. If I was always happy, I could never be sad or even know what it is; happiness loses its meaning if we can not know any other emotion.
So psychologically, happiness must be the absence of sadness, or vice versa. Answering this question brings us closer to concluding if life is always worth living. I have heard that life is always better than death, that the natural human tendency is to live (hence when a baby is born it instinctively tries to breathe), and that if given the choice between life and death, people consistently choose life. Why? I'm not saying that living is bad, but why do we continue to choose it over death?
The example I would like to use concerns American prisoners of war in the Korean conflict. Many documented accounts of torture can be verified by this travesty in history. In one story, the American P.O.W. has every bone in his body broken, becomes sick with various diseases, is starved of human interaction, food, water, and hope of escaping. Yet, this man does not cave -- he refuses to give the Koreans vital war time information which he possessed. More amazing is that he never succumbed to the promise of ending it all. Why?
This man was a Judeo-Christian. He believes in a paradise called heaven which can only be reached when he dies. So, considering he had no surviving family, no romantic interest, and watched his fellow soldiers be executed, what did he have to lose by letting his captors kill him? It would seem as though he may actually have the promise of gaining something -- namely the promise of peace, rest, and "heaven." What kept this man going, was hatred. He was consumed with a vengeance that would not be satisfied until he ripped the beating hearts out each of his torturers. It was hate, not love or hope or promises of every kind of happiness imaginable, that kept this soldier alive.
One more digression: The tale of a man, and the death of his parents. This man had a very caring mother who adored him; and a father who held his son in extremely low regards. He loved his mother beyond compare -- but loathed his father with a great hate. One day news passes that his mother has a died (natural causes I'm sure). When he attends the funeral he is surprised that he is unable to weep, in spite of his great loss. Time passes and the man is made aware of his father's death. He reluctantly attends the funeral. During the service though, he finds that he can not stop from bawling. He is completely overcome with tears.
The lesson is about the power of love versus hate. When his mother died it was a travesty, no doubt. But his love for her is not what kept him motivated. I theorize that this is because "love" from our parents is implied to be a given, an automatic -- something the mother didn't even have a choice in. She had a son, and was now obliged to give him affection. However, the father did not feel so bound, and as a consequence fostered hate and resentment between himself and his seed. The son cries at his father's funeral because he has lost his hate. As humans we constantly are searching for something to hate -- someone to blame. If we lost our hate, we would be forced to analyze things in their actuality, not just the way we choose to filter them. When the father dies, the son can clearly see the wasted time and "bad blood" which has consumed his emotions in regards to his father.
Such is the human struggle as well -- the answer to is life always worth living? We can not conclusively say that one is better than the other, unless we have experience in both fields. Otherwise it no more than a mere guessing game. But we can note without hesitation, that equal and opposite forces are constantly at odds in nature. Naturally occurring disease destroys forests, heat from the sun dries up rivers, lions eat flamingos, and flamingos eat shrimp. While the sun can destroy, no life can exist without it. This balance is true with all things.
Like light and dark; hot and cold; pleasure and pain; love can not exist without hate. Separating the Yin from the Yang is not only impossible, but foolish to attempt. Without hate, we cease to have reason to be alive. Without reason, we lose motivation. Without motivation, we would all become the pointless blobs depicted in some many futuristic doomsday fantasies. But thanks to hate, that will never happen.
It may seem off topic from the title, but it is really only a short digression for the purpose of clarification. When we think of evil, do we ask ourselves, "What good will come of this?" No, because evil is by our definition, not good -- the opposite of good, in fact. And yet, when it is all said and done, we cherish the bad occurrences. The maxim, "Out of every cloud a silver lining," can always be applied. In summary, we loathe evil, yet do not hesitate to praise the good it brings.
At first glance this appears to be a contradiction. In reality they are sewn so tightly together that without one, we would cease to have the motivation to exist. What is darkness but the absence of light? Death is the absence of life. "Cold" is created when an environment is made void of the moving particles which generate heat. That is why we measure cold in negative degrees -- counting backwards from the hottest temperature. Furthermore, pleasure could not exist without a concept of pain. If pleasure or pain existed independently, we would never be able to decipher which one we were feeling. If I was always happy, I could never be sad or even know what it is; happiness loses its meaning if we can not know any other emotion.
So psychologically, happiness must be the absence of sadness, or vice versa. Answering this question brings us closer to concluding if life is always worth living. I have heard that life is always better than death, that the natural human tendency is to live (hence when a baby is born it instinctively tries to breathe), and that if given the choice between life and death, people consistently choose life. Why? I'm not saying that living is bad, but why do we continue to choose it over death?
The example I would like to use concerns American prisoners of war in the Korean conflict. Many documented accounts of torture can be verified by this travesty in history. In one story, the American P.O.W. has every bone in his body broken, becomes sick with various diseases, is starved of human interaction, food, water, and hope of escaping. Yet, this man does not cave -- he refuses to give the Koreans vital war time information which he possessed. More amazing is that he never succumbed to the promise of ending it all. Why?
This man was a Judeo-Christian. He believes in a paradise called heaven which can only be reached when he dies. So, considering he had no surviving family, no romantic interest, and watched his fellow soldiers be executed, what did he have to lose by letting his captors kill him? It would seem as though he may actually have the promise of gaining something -- namely the promise of peace, rest, and "heaven." What kept this man going, was hatred. He was consumed with a vengeance that would not be satisfied until he ripped the beating hearts out each of his torturers. It was hate, not love or hope or promises of every kind of happiness imaginable, that kept this soldier alive.
One more digression: The tale of a man, and the death of his parents. This man had a very caring mother who adored him; and a father who held his son in extremely low regards. He loved his mother beyond compare -- but loathed his father with a great hate. One day news passes that his mother has a died (natural causes I'm sure). When he attends the funeral he is surprised that he is unable to weep, in spite of his great loss. Time passes and the man is made aware of his father's death. He reluctantly attends the funeral. During the service though, he finds that he can not stop from bawling. He is completely overcome with tears.
The lesson is about the power of love versus hate. When his mother died it was a travesty, no doubt. But his love for her is not what kept him motivated. I theorize that this is because "love" from our parents is implied to be a given, an automatic -- something the mother didn't even have a choice in. She had a son, and was now obliged to give him affection. However, the father did not feel so bound, and as a consequence fostered hate and resentment between himself and his seed. The son cries at his father's funeral because he has lost his hate. As humans we constantly are searching for something to hate -- someone to blame. If we lost our hate, we would be forced to analyze things in their actuality, not just the way we choose to filter them. When the father dies, the son can clearly see the wasted time and "bad blood" which has consumed his emotions in regards to his father.
Such is the human struggle as well -- the answer to is life always worth living? We can not conclusively say that one is better than the other, unless we have experience in both fields. Otherwise it no more than a mere guessing game. But we can note without hesitation, that equal and opposite forces are constantly at odds in nature. Naturally occurring disease destroys forests, heat from the sun dries up rivers, lions eat flamingos, and flamingos eat shrimp. While the sun can destroy, no life can exist without it. This balance is true with all things.
Like light and dark; hot and cold; pleasure and pain; love can not exist without hate. Separating the Yin from the Yang is not only impossible, but foolish to attempt. Without hate, we cease to have reason to be alive. Without reason, we lose motivation. Without motivation, we would all become the pointless blobs depicted in some many futuristic doomsday fantasies. But thanks to hate, that will never happen.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
A Clockwork Orange: Book / Movie Comparison
A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess and the Interpretation by Stanley Kubrick: A Comparison
Comparisons between Burgess’s literary work and the film by Kubrick which it inspired are, not surprisingly, numerous. What is shocking perhaps, is the glaring differences that are found. I maintain that both versions are outstanding works of art and portrayals of the varying human condition; However, I have been raised in a culture which embraces an adversary system, so I must argue that the novel by Anthony Burgess is the only one which captures the true essence of our humble narrator and protagonist, Alex.
I take Burgess’s position when I criticize the exclusion of the twenty-first chapter (of the novel) from American printing presses, and consequently, the film version created from the American text. In the twenty-first chapter Alex finds himself, a number of years later, dissatisfied with his “childish” ways of living. The systematic rape, theft, and general acts of violence which he partakes in nightly begin to define him. The spontaneity is gone, and without it Alex feels as though his life has become mundane and dull. He finds himself in a rut of sorts, wondering where this path will take him, and concluding that this behavior must inevitably decease. Probing deeper he asks himself, what shall I do when it ends?
The answer comes in the form of dreams. Our dear and humble narrator has been having “strange” dreams of being an old man resting in front of a fireplace. What is even queerer is that he finds a baby (his) in the other room. Additionally, he has a wife, but her face is obscured. Upon awakening Alex experiences a secret longing for such a life – most notably for the love he felt for his wife and child. Alex finds that the only time he feels truly fulfilled is during the occurrences of said love. Thus he decides that his reign of terror will never ultimately garner his heart’s desires. By laws of opposition, if hate does not consume him with happiness, then it must be devotion to good which brings about such discharges.
This realization is the basis of criticism for the American text and film. The American version shows a static Alex – an unrealistic character because people logically change throughout their lives. We are dynamic. We are capable of both good and evil, even if our natural tendency is to favor one over the other. Kubrick’s Alex never wavers in his resistance to the nobler qualities of man. Burgess wrote that when we fail to portray humanity in its actuality, we are creating a fable – no more credible than the Brothers Grimm or lore from Greek mythology. Additionally, if man is framed as such a creature than it is a lie, and thus will fail to enrich our existence. It is only the accurate representation of humanity which contributes to a greater good. This, Burgess argues, is one of the most important explanations for why Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange does not do justice to his original work.
So why would Kubrick, a man of tedious, enduring devotion to his craft and subject, leave out such a pivotal scene? A case of ignorance comes to mind first – but is quickly destroyed. Kubrick, although American by birth, worked out of Great Britain; So it does not stand to reason that he would find an American copy of the text (the twenty-first chapter is present in editions world-wide, with only the United States as an exception). Additionally, Burgess’s novel was first published in 1962, with Kubrick’s interpretation arriving almost ten years later in 1971. By then the book had been widely circulated and it would have been readily available with the twenty-first chapter included, even in American book stores.
A more likely explanation is that the changes made and/or scenes omitted, was a political move. Three factors lead me to believe this. First, at least two major elements (not including the exclusion of the twenty-first chapter) were made in the film version. In the scene where Alex goes to the record store and meets up with two of-age girls and takes them home to “show off his record player,” then repeatedly has sex with them, a change has been made. In the novel, Alex does indeed meet two girls, but they are only ten years old. And instead of having consensual sex with them, he encourages them to consume large amounts of liquor at his apartment, before finally raping them once they are unable to fight back. Not only does he forcibly have sex with them, but he hits them when they struggle, causing substantial bruises. When he is done, he kicks them out of his house, almost before they have a chance to dress.
It is quite clear that it was a purely political move to replace two underage girls being raped, with two of-age consenting adults engaging in sexual acts which appear to be enjoyed by both parties. Had it remained the former, the MPAA would have never allowed this movie to be shown throughout the country.
Additionally, in the Korova Milk Bar, we are only left to assume that the drinks are spiked with drugs. In the novel, Alex has some of his “greatest” criminal ideas while sipping on milk laced with LSD. One might venture so far as to say, since the drugs numb the senses and create an otherworldly feeling, that Alex and company were only so inclined to evil because of the effects of the drugs. Considering that at no point do the boys ever commit such heinous acts without being drugged, or before getting sufficiently drunk at a pub, I wonder if the drugs and alcohol are the most important factors in their tendencies to act out in such a manner.
We all have fits of rage, or consider acting violently towards another, but seldom do we proceed with such action. Why would Alex be any different? Perhaps he has our same mentality, only these drugs spur him to go the extra mile, to kill when he would have only thought of killing. Taken into account that Alex was a mere fifteen years old before the accidental murder of the old lady, I find it incredibly hard to believe that he intentionally murdered her – especially considering that when he learns of her death (he thought she was just unconscious in both the film and the novel,) he is stricken with surprise.
I consider these two changes to be very important to the script because they change our perception of the protagonist and make him appear to be inhuman – when in fact he is acting only as rationally as he can, considering the circumstances. Both changes in the script serve this political agenda and help to explain why the twenty-first chapter was excluded. These political changes were created to gain acceptance from an American audience, the MPAA, and to better entertain (with complete and utter disregard for the meaning of the original work) the viewer. In other words, Kubrick has sacrificed art for the sake of popularity.
The second reason I believe Kubrick’s version of A Clockwork Orange is different from Burgess’s has to do with the period it was created in. It is well documented that tensions between the United States and the U.S.S.R. were climaxing in the 1970’s (during production of Kubrick’s version). Based on this fact, and the evidence showing that Kubrick made artistic sacrifices to appease his audience, I have concluded that the character Alex is intentionally representative of the American enemies of the time. The way Kubrick portrays Alex – as a savage, unrelenting beast of evil, who despite all attempts at reform, remains unchanged, is the mentality that Americans of the day were fed in regards to the threat of Communism.
The government of the era was fighting enemies on all fronts. In foreign affairs, the Cuban Missile Crisis had just passed, the Monroe Doctrine and the Non-Nuclear Proliferation Treaty were being ignored, the conflict in Vietnam was reaching outstanding proportions, Mao Zedong was in power in China, and we were on the brink of a nuclear war with Russia. Domestically, the freedom to peacefully assemble was being tested at Kent State, the Black Panther Party was encouraging riots, drug use was growing exponentially, two icons of peace in America, John F. Kennedy, followed by Martin Luther King, Jr. were assassinated, and the danger of opposing the MPAA had been clearly demonstrated during the McCarthy era.
Upon consideration of these many factors, it is a natural assumption that times were rough. It is during these epochs that people crave strongest a common enemy – one which is truly, unrepentantly evil – a whipping boy of sorts. We must not allow ourselves to consider the possibility that we are wrong. I believe that this sentiment of ultimate morality in the actions of the United States is the reason we toiled so unproductively with racism, Vietnam, Russia, and applicable today, Iraq. Once America has embarked on a mission, the thought that we could be doing the wrong thing is completely eliminated as a possibility.
The inclusion of the twenty-first chapter, which shows that only through personal choice can we be made “good;” and the absence of emphasis on bad parenting, unfit environments for children, failed correctional institutions, and a poor education system, all gravitate towards an appeal to ignorance for the answer to why we misbehave. Consequently, when all factors are not taken into deliberation and properly analyzed, we end up with a skewed belief that some humans are born evil and lack the capabilities to change – which was the exact ongoing reaction to communism during the film’s production, and justification for racism before that.
The third confirmation that Kubrick differentiated between the original story and the film version to serve cinematic ends comes in the form of an additional theme. Throughout the film miscellaneous sexual references are made in the construct of physical objects, as well as the imagery used. Although Burgess wrote the novel with sex as an integral part of Alex’s life, it was not meant to be nearly as consuming as Kubrick makes it.
The novel uses sex as a means to end, not as an end in-and-of itself. Burgess shows that Alex has four taboo indulgences: He drinks (underage) and does drugs, has sex whenever he pleases (consent is optional), and commits acts of violence on a whim. Each one of these exploits serves the purpose of disobeying the conventional rules of society. It is these rebellious actions that Alex appears to feed off. I assert that if rape and murder were legal, Alex would not be doing them. The fact that he is fighting the powers that be, by not following their laws, is what materializes his harmful thoughts into action. In this sense, sex is almost meaningless for Alex – no more than another physical charge.
However, Kubrick warps Burgess’s illustration of sex as a tool, and instead makes it comparable to an idol. All around the walls, in every house, we are shown framed portraits of naked women. In the living room of Alex’s flat they are more tasteful than in other places. The women are partly clothed and pictured in sensuous posture. Upon entering Alex’s personal room though, the woman is pictured with her legs up in the air, spread apart, and all undergarments are abandoned. In the old lady’s home who Alex accidentally kills, there are naked women in a variety of sexual positions. She even has a large ceramic statue in the shape of a penis. The girls in the record store are licking phallic shaped popsicles; When Mr. Deltoid greets Alex in his home he causes him considerable harm by cupping his genitals and squeezing them; And when Alex must undress for the prison warden, we can catch him staring quite clearly at the young man’s nude form. In another scene the chaplain consoles Alex by saying he knows what it’s like to be young and isolated from the female form – and then lays his hand on Alex’s shoulder.
The dominance of both sexual imagery and innuendo over many of the more important themes in the work is a travesty. In Hollywood today the promise of seeing a particular actress nude in her upcoming film will cause box office numbers to spike – Kubrick applied this same principle by showing an excessive amount of gratuitous nudity.
Stacked among all the differences between film and text, one theme remains the same: Karma, the idea that every deed merits a consequence of equal nature. In both versions we are shown several cause and effect scenarios. In the beginning, Alex helps save a young girl from being raped by a rival, and later is gifted with two girls of his own. Dim is initially stabbed for his insubordination, but later gets revenge when he becomes a cop. Upon release from the Ludovico Treatment, Alex is attacked by a group of old men whom he had done earlier harm to. And what are the odds that the writer attacked in the beginning of the film becomes an essential mechanism in Alex’s suicide attempt?
It would appear that the world Alex has damaged would rather see him broken and crying than rehabilitated. This fateful twist brings about the Karma necessary for Alex to become “cured.” In a cause and effect relationship, Alex did harm to others, and was damaged in return. However, by becoming debilitated he is cosmically rewarded with the ability to return to his old ways of living.
If the twenty-first chapter were included in the film, we would be able to see that Karma has not only given Alex the ability to return to his old ways of living, but also gives him a capacity for realizing the merit of good deeds, which he was otherwise lacking. The theme of Karma is only fully realized if Alex is given this chance. If he is not, as in the film version, then the actions that Alex endured were essentially without cause.
The significance is furthered with a brief analysis of Kubrick versus Burgess. Summary of Kubrick’s Alex: He was a social deviant, forced to change his actions (not his perception on morals), and is miraculously freed from the mind-prison that was holding him back from doing what he wanted. Message: Action is inherently connected to intent; technology is incapable of curing human mental disease; and once a menace, always a menace. Kubrick is conveying the idea that true rehabilitation is not possible. No matter how hard we try, there can be no method of reform, nor answers to why some humans behave as they do. The only explanation Kubrick offers is that most people are born intrinsically good-natured, while others, like Alex, are violent by design.
Burgess’s version of A Clockwork Orange differs in several aspects. Summary of Burgess’s Alex: Social deviant, forced to change his actions, has several encounters with Karma, and changes his ways. Message: action is irrelevant if not supported by intent; technology is not the cure, but it is a means to an end; and rehabilitation is certainly possible, but the answer is not in politics or science, rather in positive relationships.
Burgess is negating the idea that humans can be diffused in to separate entities by asserting that the sum of the parts is what defines the whole. Changing one aspect of the mind is unquestionably futile when attempting to control the complete device. With this in mind it makes sense that technology is able to manage Alex’s impulses, but fails to “cure” him.
Burgess also constantly notes the failings of this society’s culture in matters of parenting, education, prison/jail, government, sustainable business, and housing. Karma is just one tool that he uses to do this. The greater focus is on the answer to crime and how this civilization should deal with it: Imprisonment (as the only structure of reform), or the new Ludovico Treatment which forces good behavior? Both answers presented are wrong because they fail to glimpse the root of the problem.
The social order is depicted as a trapping for the soul which only renders cruelty. Burgess’s novel introduces this institution as both the cause of, and solution to, abnormal behavior; whereas Kubrick abstains from any such judgment. He instead insists that Alex simply is a wrongdoer; and though there may be an underlying source, it cannot be remedied by science or society.
Overall, I believe Kubrick has created a masterpiece of film which is highly entertaining (though it does make ample use of artistic liberties). My only true objection arises from his failure to fully develop the meaning of a “clockwork orange” in the literary sense.
A clockwork orange is old English cockney – the language (combined with some Russian elements) that is used in both the film and text of A Clockwork Orange. It describes two contradictory ideas working together. For a clock to function properly it must be uniform, meticulously designed for hundreds, if not thousands of pieces to support each other in constant movement for years to come. No cog can be out of place, or the clock will fail. For this reason a clock must command every quantity to perform scrupulously. The opposite of this brand of perfection is the orange. Each one varies in shape and size, number of seeds, longevity, and taste. The typical orange is vibrantly bright, ripe with juice and life, and incapable of internal manipulation.
A clockwork orange is impossible because the nouns combined to create the phrase could never in this reality work together. This is the character which Burgess describes in his novel – a man driven by wanton desires and yet compelled to act the polar opposite. It is not possible for man to be wholly evil, or completely consumed by holiness. Humanity can only be defined by the constant duality of these clashing spirits. Inevitably, such qualities will struggle until a sense of balance is found. This is the reason why the twenty-first chapter is so necessary. It completes the circle of a clockwork orange by showing the unavoidable truth that humankind (Alex) has found equilibrium with both methodologies. It is for all the above-stated reasons that I believe the film by Stanley Kubrick does not accurately represent the human condition which is portrayed in Anthony Burgess’s novel, A Clockwork Orange.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Kubrick: Dr. Strangelove, A Clockwork Orange, and Full Metal Jacket (with sources): A Brief Analysis
Visual Genius: Stanley Kubrick
When one analyses a film, or series of films by the same director, a good reviewer will have no choice but to take the subject matter chosen in to evaluation. The subject that a director chooses to capture on film can say a lot about that person. For example, when assessing a film using the psychoanalytical approach, or more specifically, Freudian criticism, a reviewer “believes that a movie is an expression of the filmmaker’s psyche and that a film’s meaning lies beneath the obvious images on the screen” (Boggs 381). Stanley Kubrick once wrote that “the most terrifying thing in the universe is not that it is hostile but that it is indifferent, but if we can come to terms with this indifference, then our existence as a species can have genuine meaning. However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light.” This central idea, that the universe is indifferent and we must make our own way, is reflected in all of Kubrick’s films.
The “dehumanization of men into machines and vice versa” (Rod, “The Kubrick Site”) is portrayed most excellently in two of his films, A Clockwork Orange, and Full Metal Jacket. In Full Metal Jacket, the young marines are subject to extreme mental and physical abuse at boot camp until they are stripped of their emotions. They are then raised up by the strength they share in each other. However, this is not a loving strength, it is more like a responsibility – it causes thoughts like “If I don’t fight my comrades will die.” All human life can then be protected by fighting off “the enemy.” Thus, violence becomes one of the most important things imaginable. The Marine Corp has now created soldiers that think the only path to peace, is war. Some soldiers’ helmets even have things like “Born to Kill” written on them; which further enhances the theme that Kubrick is pushing upon us. Similar in this ways is A Clockwork Orange, in which the main character Alex, is robbed of his free will. While this solves his violent behavior, it asks an equally sinister question: “Do we lose our humanity if we are deprived of the free-will choice between good and evil” (Dirks, “Clockwork Orange” 1)? Once again, this strongly enforces Kubrick’s idea that in this world, we must carve our own path.
Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, shows a variation on Kubrick’s theme about humanity: a “nightmarish, apocalyptic theme about how technology had gone haywire and had dominated humanity” (Dirks, “Dr. Strangelove” 1). In other words, the ultimate fail safe machine is actually possible of making errors. This is, of course, a paradox. How can a fail safe machine make a mistake? While Full Metal Jacket and A Clockwork Orange show people progressively turning in to machines, Dr. Strangelove takes the opposite approach by showing machines gaining more humanistic senses. In the film, the Russians have created a super-nuke which will destroy all life forms on Earth. This foolproof weapon will automatically trigger itself when Russia becomes seriously threatened by a nuclear attack. However, the super weapon can not be turned off because that could be a trick or even sabotage. In effect, mankind has endowed the power to kill upon machines which are guaranteed to be more reasonable than us. Kubrick is stating with this film that our trust in technology will eventually be our downfall. The film seems to give us an answer to this problem. Kubrick suggests that nothing is perfect, but that human emotion is perfect in its imperfection; thus saying that nothing can make decisions for us, that the only way to correct wrongs is to fall victim to our own destinies, which are anything but predefined.
A Clockwork Orange and Full Metal Jacket deal heavily with the struggle between good and evil. A Clockwork Orange shows evil as being inbred, suggesting that we are conceived evil by nature, and that it is our choice to be good, or more naturally, follow our born path. The film deals with what happens when you take away the choice to change, in somebody who has not made that decision. In the end, it portrays good v. evil in a very ironic sense by allowing Alex to return to his more natural ways. In doing this, the viewer is almost blinded by the blurred line between what is moral and what is sinister. Full Metal Jacket lets us follow Private Joker in to combat scenarios. Joker’s duality within himself is startling. He says things like, “I wanted to meet interesting and stimulating people of an ancient culture... and kill them....,” and “They have to destroy the village in order to save it.” His helmet has “Born to Kill” written on it, and yet he wears a peace button on his uniform. Joker is quite obviously struggling internally between his nature as a killer, and his desire to be virtuous. In the end, Joker acknowledges that one can not exist without the other – which like A Clockwork Orange almost disintegrates that difference between the two.
Dr. Strangelove handles this theme of good versus evil on a special, satirical level. The movie was produced with black and white film, at a time when color was available. Black has classically represented evil, and white, purity. So before the film really starts, I already can see that good versus evil may be a premise. The fact that the movie revolves around nuclear war only enhances this idea. Dr. Strangelove abounds with sexual puns such as excessively large cigars, airplanes refueling (which looks like a mating ritual,) and “the orgasmic atomic bomb that Kong rides between his legs” (Dirks, “Dr. Strangelove” 1) at the end of the feature. Also, “many of the absurd, omnipresent names of the male, military characters have sexual connotations or allegorical references that suggest the connection between war, sexual obsession and the male sex drive” (Dirks, “Dr. Strangelove” 1). For instance, the base commander Jack D. Ripper named after the notorious murderer Jack the Ripper, and Major T.J. Kong, similar to the destructive giant ape King Kong. As Dirks has pointed out, men, sex, and war almost go hand-in-hand (“Dr. Strangelove” 1). Just like in A Clockwork Orange and Full Metal Jacket, the proposal that man is born with wickedness and war on the brain, and that it is only through a battle of free will that we are able to defeat it, is reaffirmed.
Stanley Kubrick, visual genius that he is, is able to reiterate his belief in “supplying our light” in the darkness by portraying characters who do exactly that. What makes Kubrick unique in this aspect is that he is able to do this in an entertaining, and thought provoking way that is as applicable in the 1960’s when some were made, as it is today, and as it has ever been. Kubrick’s immortal theme of finding our special niche in society, as exposed wonderfully in Full Metal Jacket, A Clockwork Orange, and Dr. Strangelove, can give life, as he puts it, a “genuine meaning.”
Works Cited
Boggs, Joseph and Dennis Petrie. The Art of Watching Films. 6th edition. New York: McGraw-Hill, 2004.
Dirks, Tim. A Clockwork Orange (1971). 1996-2007. April 20, 2007. <http://www.filmsite.org/cloc.html>.
Dirks, Tim. Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964). 1996-2007. April 20, 2007. <http://www.filmsite.org/drst.html>.
Rod. The Kubrick Site. 6 Dec. 2005. April 20, 2007.
<http://www.visual-memory.co.uk/amk/>.
When one analyses a film, or series of films by the same director, a good reviewer will have no choice but to take the subject matter chosen in to evaluation. The subject that a director chooses to capture on film can say a lot about that person. For example, when assessing a film using the psychoanalytical approach, or more specifically, Freudian criticism, a reviewer “believes that a movie is an expression of the filmmaker’s psyche and that a film’s meaning lies beneath the obvious images on the screen” (Boggs 381). Stanley Kubrick once wrote that “the most terrifying thing in the universe is not that it is hostile but that it is indifferent, but if we can come to terms with this indifference, then our existence as a species can have genuine meaning. However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light.” This central idea, that the universe is indifferent and we must make our own way, is reflected in all of Kubrick’s films.
The “dehumanization of men into machines and vice versa” (Rod, “The Kubrick Site”) is portrayed most excellently in two of his films, A Clockwork Orange, and Full Metal Jacket. In Full Metal Jacket, the young marines are subject to extreme mental and physical abuse at boot camp until they are stripped of their emotions. They are then raised up by the strength they share in each other. However, this is not a loving strength, it is more like a responsibility – it causes thoughts like “If I don’t fight my comrades will die.” All human life can then be protected by fighting off “the enemy.” Thus, violence becomes one of the most important things imaginable. The Marine Corp has now created soldiers that think the only path to peace, is war. Some soldiers’ helmets even have things like “Born to Kill” written on them; which further enhances the theme that Kubrick is pushing upon us. Similar in this ways is A Clockwork Orange, in which the main character Alex, is robbed of his free will. While this solves his violent behavior, it asks an equally sinister question: “Do we lose our humanity if we are deprived of the free-will choice between good and evil” (Dirks, “Clockwork Orange” 1)? Once again, this strongly enforces Kubrick’s idea that in this world, we must carve our own path.
Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, shows a variation on Kubrick’s theme about humanity: a “nightmarish, apocalyptic theme about how technology had gone haywire and had dominated humanity” (Dirks, “Dr. Strangelove” 1). In other words, the ultimate fail safe machine is actually possible of making errors. This is, of course, a paradox. How can a fail safe machine make a mistake? While Full Metal Jacket and A Clockwork Orange show people progressively turning in to machines, Dr. Strangelove takes the opposite approach by showing machines gaining more humanistic senses. In the film, the Russians have created a super-nuke which will destroy all life forms on Earth. This foolproof weapon will automatically trigger itself when Russia becomes seriously threatened by a nuclear attack. However, the super weapon can not be turned off because that could be a trick or even sabotage. In effect, mankind has endowed the power to kill upon machines which are guaranteed to be more reasonable than us. Kubrick is stating with this film that our trust in technology will eventually be our downfall. The film seems to give us an answer to this problem. Kubrick suggests that nothing is perfect, but that human emotion is perfect in its imperfection; thus saying that nothing can make decisions for us, that the only way to correct wrongs is to fall victim to our own destinies, which are anything but predefined.
A Clockwork Orange and Full Metal Jacket deal heavily with the struggle between good and evil. A Clockwork Orange shows evil as being inbred, suggesting that we are conceived evil by nature, and that it is our choice to be good, or more naturally, follow our born path. The film deals with what happens when you take away the choice to change, in somebody who has not made that decision. In the end, it portrays good v. evil in a very ironic sense by allowing Alex to return to his more natural ways. In doing this, the viewer is almost blinded by the blurred line between what is moral and what is sinister. Full Metal Jacket lets us follow Private Joker in to combat scenarios. Joker’s duality within himself is startling. He says things like, “I wanted to meet interesting and stimulating people of an ancient culture... and kill them....,” and “They have to destroy the village in order to save it.” His helmet has “Born to Kill” written on it, and yet he wears a peace button on his uniform. Joker is quite obviously struggling internally between his nature as a killer, and his desire to be virtuous. In the end, Joker acknowledges that one can not exist without the other – which like A Clockwork Orange almost disintegrates that difference between the two.
Dr. Strangelove handles this theme of good versus evil on a special, satirical level. The movie was produced with black and white film, at a time when color was available. Black has classically represented evil, and white, purity. So before the film really starts, I already can see that good versus evil may be a premise. The fact that the movie revolves around nuclear war only enhances this idea. Dr. Strangelove abounds with sexual puns such as excessively large cigars, airplanes refueling (which looks like a mating ritual,) and “the orgasmic atomic bomb that Kong rides between his legs” (Dirks, “Dr. Strangelove” 1) at the end of the feature. Also, “many of the absurd, omnipresent names of the male, military characters have sexual connotations or allegorical references that suggest the connection between war, sexual obsession and the male sex drive” (Dirks, “Dr. Strangelove” 1). For instance, the base commander Jack D. Ripper named after the notorious murderer Jack the Ripper, and Major T.J. Kong, similar to the destructive giant ape King Kong. As Dirks has pointed out, men, sex, and war almost go hand-in-hand (“Dr. Strangelove” 1). Just like in A Clockwork Orange and Full Metal Jacket, the proposal that man is born with wickedness and war on the brain, and that it is only through a battle of free will that we are able to defeat it, is reaffirmed.
Stanley Kubrick, visual genius that he is, is able to reiterate his belief in “supplying our light” in the darkness by portraying characters who do exactly that. What makes Kubrick unique in this aspect is that he is able to do this in an entertaining, and thought provoking way that is as applicable in the 1960’s when some were made, as it is today, and as it has ever been. Kubrick’s immortal theme of finding our special niche in society, as exposed wonderfully in Full Metal Jacket, A Clockwork Orange, and Dr. Strangelove, can give life, as he puts it, a “genuine meaning.”
Works Cited
Boggs, Joseph and Dennis Petrie. The Art of Watching Films. 6th edition. New York: McGraw-Hill, 2004.
Dirks, Tim. A Clockwork Orange (1971). 1996-2007. April 20, 2007. <http://www.filmsite.org/cloc.html>.
Dirks, Tim. Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964). 1996-2007. April 20, 2007. <http://www.filmsite.org/drst.html>.
Rod. The Kubrick Site. 6 Dec. 2005. April 20, 2007.
<http://www.visual-memory.co.uk/amk/>.
Ingmar Bergman's The Seventh Seal: A Brief Analysis
Death Plays Chess
Many filmmakers strive to achieve a level of significance in their work that will endure the test of time. Many filmmakers and their productions fail, but there are some that do not. One such example is Ingmar Bergman’s 1957 effort, The Seventh Seal. This film sets a lofty level of ambition by using a theme that is highly universal and important: the quest for the meaning of life, and how to achieve a proper resolution. The Seventh Seal chronicles one man’s journey to discovering his personal answer. This theme is reinforced using the elements of setting, dialogue, editing and transitions, and the dramatic element, cosmic irony.
The primary element used to explore the theme can be found in the setting and in the set design of the movie. I believe Bergman wants us to believe that the meaning of life is found by conquering the passage of death. Accordingly, death is shown all around us in the set design as a physical obstacle to be overcome by the main character, Antonius Block. In the beginning of the film, we are given the image of a beach cast a slew with unforgiving jagged rocks. Looming above Antonius is a gigantic cliff which casts an equally large shadow. The beach looks like it is not suitable for any living creature. Secondly, a fertile earth is rarely ever shown. In the following scene, Antonius and his squire, Jons, are shown riding horseback across land with no flowers, trees, or indication of life. A rotting monk who has apparently come out here to die from the bubonic plague is the only landmark. The sun beats without mercy on the main characters and all the landscape. Deserted villages are everywhere; and every populated town they come across appears to have been ravaged not only by the Black Plague, but also by dust storms and perhaps vandalism. No set pieces are pretty, nice, or lively in a way to suggest anything but a land for the dying.
The second most important element in enhancing the theme can be found in the sound effects and dialogue. This movie does not contain a lot of dialogue or explanations, so the few exchanges of words seem to take on more importance than they might otherwise. Many conversations, such as the one between Antonius and Death during their final game of chess, can summarize the whole movie: Death says, “You look worried. Are you hiding something?” Antonius replies, “Nothing escapes you.” Death retorts, “Nothing escapes me.” This tête-à-tête marks not only the end of their chess game, but also the close of Block’s quest for knowledge. I think the most meaningful dialogue in the film is the reading from the Book of Revelations, concerning the breaking of The Seventh Seal (which symbolizes the end of mankind and the beginning of Judgment Day.) The movie opens with the reading of this portion of the Bible, and it comes to a close with Block’s wife reading Revelations as ceremony before eating dinner. This reading is very pertinent to the story because it represents Block’s struggle with Death, and eventually leads to his apocalyptic conclusion that the end of his life was always the inevitable answer to his questions. The sound effects in the film were also essential to breathing true life in to the story. Heavy music was often choreographed to violent scenes and the appearance of characters that represent misfortune.
Another highly important element to the theme is the contrast between darkness and light using editing and transitions. Bergman frequently uses the director’s interpretive point of view to do this. For example, in the beginning of the film, we are given time to reflect upon a lasting shot of the ocean, with the loud ambience. Then we are very quickly transitioned to a shot of Death (wearing all black) standing tall against the bright rising sun, with no more sounds at all. Once Death begins to move forward, we immediately are struck at how all-encompassing his cape is. As the camera closes in, it becomes larger and larger until the screen, (and our view of Antonius) is completely covered by it, showing what a huge force Death plays in the movie. When engaging in chess, our players are framed very carefully to separate the darkness of Death from the brightness of Antonius; representing perhaps the struggle between good and evil in a highly picturesque way. While Block confides in Death during Confession, quick transitional images show back-and-forth close-ups of the exceptionally pale and sinister face of Death, and then the face of a crucified Jesus, mourning, and bleeding with a crown of thorns on. This is very effective in showing the stark contrast between Block, linked by the imagery to Jesus, and his counterpart and opponent, Death.
Possibly the most subtle contributing factor to the theme is the dramatic element, cosmic irony. It is ever present and suggested in each scene. All of the humor in the film comes from this cosmic irony. When Jons makes jokes, they are not funny in the way a clown is, but humorous in a way that mocks all mankind by showing the futility of living. When Antonius confesses to Death his deepest grievances, we can clearly hear his doubt in God, and yet realize the impossibility of killing his faith. Throughout the entire movie, we steadily become conscious of the absurdity of Antonius Block besting Death, yet we are entranced to observe the outcome. The cosmic irony runs so deep in the theme of this film, that it could go unnoticed if we are not careful.
Thanks to the elements of setting, dialogue, editing, cosmic irony, and powerful acting, Ingmar Bergman was able to help illuminate one of the shadiest of human deliberations: what is the meaning of life? Following Bergman’s direction of Antonius Block, we can see that all roads lead the Death. It is only then that he shows us the contradiction – one may only gain implication of the meaning, if one can see victory in Death. In the end, Bergman succeeds gloriously in his ambitious production, The Seventh Seal, and passes the test of time.
Many filmmakers strive to achieve a level of significance in their work that will endure the test of time. Many filmmakers and their productions fail, but there are some that do not. One such example is Ingmar Bergman’s 1957 effort, The Seventh Seal. This film sets a lofty level of ambition by using a theme that is highly universal and important: the quest for the meaning of life, and how to achieve a proper resolution. The Seventh Seal chronicles one man’s journey to discovering his personal answer. This theme is reinforced using the elements of setting, dialogue, editing and transitions, and the dramatic element, cosmic irony.
The primary element used to explore the theme can be found in the setting and in the set design of the movie. I believe Bergman wants us to believe that the meaning of life is found by conquering the passage of death. Accordingly, death is shown all around us in the set design as a physical obstacle to be overcome by the main character, Antonius Block. In the beginning of the film, we are given the image of a beach cast a slew with unforgiving jagged rocks. Looming above Antonius is a gigantic cliff which casts an equally large shadow. The beach looks like it is not suitable for any living creature. Secondly, a fertile earth is rarely ever shown. In the following scene, Antonius and his squire, Jons, are shown riding horseback across land with no flowers, trees, or indication of life. A rotting monk who has apparently come out here to die from the bubonic plague is the only landmark. The sun beats without mercy on the main characters and all the landscape. Deserted villages are everywhere; and every populated town they come across appears to have been ravaged not only by the Black Plague, but also by dust storms and perhaps vandalism. No set pieces are pretty, nice, or lively in a way to suggest anything but a land for the dying.
The second most important element in enhancing the theme can be found in the sound effects and dialogue. This movie does not contain a lot of dialogue or explanations, so the few exchanges of words seem to take on more importance than they might otherwise. Many conversations, such as the one between Antonius and Death during their final game of chess, can summarize the whole movie: Death says, “You look worried. Are you hiding something?” Antonius replies, “Nothing escapes you.” Death retorts, “Nothing escapes me.” This tête-à-tête marks not only the end of their chess game, but also the close of Block’s quest for knowledge. I think the most meaningful dialogue in the film is the reading from the Book of Revelations, concerning the breaking of The Seventh Seal (which symbolizes the end of mankind and the beginning of Judgment Day.) The movie opens with the reading of this portion of the Bible, and it comes to a close with Block’s wife reading Revelations as ceremony before eating dinner. This reading is very pertinent to the story because it represents Block’s struggle with Death, and eventually leads to his apocalyptic conclusion that the end of his life was always the inevitable answer to his questions. The sound effects in the film were also essential to breathing true life in to the story. Heavy music was often choreographed to violent scenes and the appearance of characters that represent misfortune.
Another highly important element to the theme is the contrast between darkness and light using editing and transitions. Bergman frequently uses the director’s interpretive point of view to do this. For example, in the beginning of the film, we are given time to reflect upon a lasting shot of the ocean, with the loud ambience. Then we are very quickly transitioned to a shot of Death (wearing all black) standing tall against the bright rising sun, with no more sounds at all. Once Death begins to move forward, we immediately are struck at how all-encompassing his cape is. As the camera closes in, it becomes larger and larger until the screen, (and our view of Antonius) is completely covered by it, showing what a huge force Death plays in the movie. When engaging in chess, our players are framed very carefully to separate the darkness of Death from the brightness of Antonius; representing perhaps the struggle between good and evil in a highly picturesque way. While Block confides in Death during Confession, quick transitional images show back-and-forth close-ups of the exceptionally pale and sinister face of Death, and then the face of a crucified Jesus, mourning, and bleeding with a crown of thorns on. This is very effective in showing the stark contrast between Block, linked by the imagery to Jesus, and his counterpart and opponent, Death.
Possibly the most subtle contributing factor to the theme is the dramatic element, cosmic irony. It is ever present and suggested in each scene. All of the humor in the film comes from this cosmic irony. When Jons makes jokes, they are not funny in the way a clown is, but humorous in a way that mocks all mankind by showing the futility of living. When Antonius confesses to Death his deepest grievances, we can clearly hear his doubt in God, and yet realize the impossibility of killing his faith. Throughout the entire movie, we steadily become conscious of the absurdity of Antonius Block besting Death, yet we are entranced to observe the outcome. The cosmic irony runs so deep in the theme of this film, that it could go unnoticed if we are not careful.
Thanks to the elements of setting, dialogue, editing, cosmic irony, and powerful acting, Ingmar Bergman was able to help illuminate one of the shadiest of human deliberations: what is the meaning of life? Following Bergman’s direction of Antonius Block, we can see that all roads lead the Death. It is only then that he shows us the contradiction – one may only gain implication of the meaning, if one can see victory in Death. In the end, Bergman succeeds gloriously in his ambitious production, The Seventh Seal, and passes the test of time.
Social Security (with sources): A brief history, several problems, and solutions
Social Security
Social Security concerns are one of the most pressing issues that my generation will face. Social Security pension funds may not even be available in whole for the current retiring generation. Why is this, what is the real problem, and what is the solution, are just a few questions that should spring to mind. Why is a failing system, one which every working American is paying in to, and will (hopefully) inevitably receive benefits from, not undergoing a major overhaul?
The Social Security Act (SSA) was signed by Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1935. Essentially the program was created to help people over age 65, who had been working their entire life, and forced to retire due to medical and disability issues (DeWitt). A 65 year old man or woman would find it very difficult to continue working, and without a job they would have to rely on their children’s earnings or some other beneficiary. Since not everybody could survive this way, the SSA was passed. Additions to the SSA include survivors benefits, disability benefits, and the ability to share benefits with a spouse and children (DeWitt).
How Social Security is maintained is a relatively simple process. Every working American has a percentage of their earnings deducted from their paycheck. The money collected from this Federal Insurance Contribution Act (FICA) is placed in special trust funds created for this revenue (DeWitt). When it comes time to collect, benefits are also paid out of this trust fund.
Since retirees have been putting in to the system, and they will be the only ones taking out, what is the problem? Due to inflation, and the rising cost of healthcare, the money that was originally placed in these trust funds will not cover the cost of a modern day retiree (Penny). So the government solution was to use the trust fund money that the current workers are paying in. There are currently 3 ½ workers paying in, for every existing retiree (Penny). By 2030 however, the baby boomer generation (which is twice as large as the current generation) will be completely retired; and actuaries say that when that happens there will only be 2 workers for every retiree (Penny). The amount being paid out will significantly overwhelm the trust funds.
The solutions are not politically popular. Fixing this problem in its current state, without changing the system, will require FICA tax hikes - from 12.4% to 14.1% (Altman), cuts in other government programs, and/or borrowing money (Penny). Raising the retirement age from the current 67 to 68, 69, or even 70, is suggested by actuaries to be one of the easiest changes to pass, and will help as part of a package deal to keep the system from imploding. This is not totally unjustified, as the life expectancy has been increasing disproportionately from the retirement age.
For the past 15 years, the amount of money taken in has not been enough to cover the amount being taken out (DeWitt). All solutions other than an overhaul of the Social Security program will be like using duct tape – a temporary fix. George W. Bush has offered a program that will allow people to divert portions of their Social Security taxes in to private accounts for investment in stocks and bonds (Grier). This change alone would not repair the problem, but combined with a reduction in benefits and a change in the retirement age, would help bring Social Security Trust Funds back in to the black (Grier).
Since this is an election year, I feel it is important to note the stances of our two major political candidates as well. Senator Obama of the Democrats is strongly against establishing private accounts, citing that if an investment were to go awry, it could be worse than what would happen if the government were to continue holding on to it (Miller). He also opposes raising the minimum retirement age, as well as reducing the paid out benefits (Meckler). Obama states that a new tax of 2%-4% on those earning more that $250,000 a year will help compensate for Social Security losses. I could find no evidence supporting that this would be enough change. Senator McCain of the Republicans is convinced that the path to Social Security prosperity is with Bush’s plan to allow private investments (Meckler). He notes that increasing the retirement age and lowering the amount of benefits allowable would permit the system to work without raising taxes (Miller).
Personally, I don’t believe that any of these plans is the best course of action. I think three things need to happen to solve all future Social Security calamities. One, Congress should subject at minimum 90% of aggregated wages across the nation to be eligible for taxation in to the Social Security fund (Altman). This is a modest tax increase of 6% that could be phased in over the next 4 years, would not hurt the middle class, minimally affects the upper class, and would bring in billions of dollars of revenue (Altman). Two, allow private investments in long-term government bonds. Lastly, and the most radical, make paying in to Social Security optional. Many people do not want to pay in to a system that they can only collect on when they are 67 years old; and even then, only collect a slow percentage of what they originally paid Allow people to do what they want with their money. This can stimulate the economy, and remove millions of retirees and their beneficiaries from the government payroll.
Works Cited
Altman, Nancy. 2008. The Battle for Social Security. Los Angeles Times April, 9. http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/sunday/commentary/la-oe-altman9apr09,0,3295623.story
DeWitt, Larry. Social Security Act and its Development. March 2003. http://www.socialsecurity.gov/history/briefhistory3.html
Grier, Peter. 2005. Social Security's Battle Over Values. Christian Science Monitor January, 12. http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0112/p01s03-uspo.html
Meckler, Laura. 2008. Social Security and the Candidates. Wall Street Journal September. <http://online.wsj.com/article/SB122074594873607453.html?mod=relevancy>
Miller, Jim. 2008. Where the Presidential Candidates Stand on Social Security and Medicare. The Observer October, 2. http://www.observernews.net/artman2/publish/Savvy_Senior_33/Where_the_Presidential_Candidates_Stand_on_Social_Security_and_Medicare_printer.shtml
Penny, Tim. 2004. Social Security Needs Long-term Overhaul, not Campaign Slogans. Christian Science Monitor March, 15. http://www.csmonitor.com/2004/0315/p09s02-coop.html
Social Security concerns are one of the most pressing issues that my generation will face. Social Security pension funds may not even be available in whole for the current retiring generation. Why is this, what is the real problem, and what is the solution, are just a few questions that should spring to mind. Why is a failing system, one which every working American is paying in to, and will (hopefully) inevitably receive benefits from, not undergoing a major overhaul?
The Social Security Act (SSA) was signed by Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1935. Essentially the program was created to help people over age 65, who had been working their entire life, and forced to retire due to medical and disability issues (DeWitt). A 65 year old man or woman would find it very difficult to continue working, and without a job they would have to rely on their children’s earnings or some other beneficiary. Since not everybody could survive this way, the SSA was passed. Additions to the SSA include survivors benefits, disability benefits, and the ability to share benefits with a spouse and children (DeWitt).
How Social Security is maintained is a relatively simple process. Every working American has a percentage of their earnings deducted from their paycheck. The money collected from this Federal Insurance Contribution Act (FICA) is placed in special trust funds created for this revenue (DeWitt). When it comes time to collect, benefits are also paid out of this trust fund.
Since retirees have been putting in to the system, and they will be the only ones taking out, what is the problem? Due to inflation, and the rising cost of healthcare, the money that was originally placed in these trust funds will not cover the cost of a modern day retiree (Penny). So the government solution was to use the trust fund money that the current workers are paying in. There are currently 3 ½ workers paying in, for every existing retiree (Penny). By 2030 however, the baby boomer generation (which is twice as large as the current generation) will be completely retired; and actuaries say that when that happens there will only be 2 workers for every retiree (Penny). The amount being paid out will significantly overwhelm the trust funds.
The solutions are not politically popular. Fixing this problem in its current state, without changing the system, will require FICA tax hikes - from 12.4% to 14.1% (Altman), cuts in other government programs, and/or borrowing money (Penny). Raising the retirement age from the current 67 to 68, 69, or even 70, is suggested by actuaries to be one of the easiest changes to pass, and will help as part of a package deal to keep the system from imploding. This is not totally unjustified, as the life expectancy has been increasing disproportionately from the retirement age.
For the past 15 years, the amount of money taken in has not been enough to cover the amount being taken out (DeWitt). All solutions other than an overhaul of the Social Security program will be like using duct tape – a temporary fix. George W. Bush has offered a program that will allow people to divert portions of their Social Security taxes in to private accounts for investment in stocks and bonds (Grier). This change alone would not repair the problem, but combined with a reduction in benefits and a change in the retirement age, would help bring Social Security Trust Funds back in to the black (Grier).
Since this is an election year, I feel it is important to note the stances of our two major political candidates as well. Senator Obama of the Democrats is strongly against establishing private accounts, citing that if an investment were to go awry, it could be worse than what would happen if the government were to continue holding on to it (Miller). He also opposes raising the minimum retirement age, as well as reducing the paid out benefits (Meckler). Obama states that a new tax of 2%-4% on those earning more that $250,000 a year will help compensate for Social Security losses. I could find no evidence supporting that this would be enough change. Senator McCain of the Republicans is convinced that the path to Social Security prosperity is with Bush’s plan to allow private investments (Meckler). He notes that increasing the retirement age and lowering the amount of benefits allowable would permit the system to work without raising taxes (Miller).
Personally, I don’t believe that any of these plans is the best course of action. I think three things need to happen to solve all future Social Security calamities. One, Congress should subject at minimum 90% of aggregated wages across the nation to be eligible for taxation in to the Social Security fund (Altman). This is a modest tax increase of 6% that could be phased in over the next 4 years, would not hurt the middle class, minimally affects the upper class, and would bring in billions of dollars of revenue (Altman). Two, allow private investments in long-term government bonds. Lastly, and the most radical, make paying in to Social Security optional. Many people do not want to pay in to a system that they can only collect on when they are 67 years old; and even then, only collect a slow percentage of what they originally paid Allow people to do what they want with their money. This can stimulate the economy, and remove millions of retirees and their beneficiaries from the government payroll.
Works Cited
Altman, Nancy. 2008. The Battle for Social Security. Los Angeles Times April, 9. http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/sunday/commentary/la-oe-altman9apr09,0,3295623.story
DeWitt, Larry. Social Security Act and its Development. March 2003. http://www.socialsecurity.gov/history/briefhistory3.html
Grier, Peter. 2005. Social Security's Battle Over Values. Christian Science Monitor January, 12. http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0112/p01s03-uspo.html
Meckler, Laura. 2008. Social Security and the Candidates. Wall Street Journal September. <http://online.wsj.com/article/SB122074594873607453.html?mod=relevancy>
Miller, Jim. 2008. Where the Presidential Candidates Stand on Social Security and Medicare. The Observer October, 2. http://www.observernews.net/artman2/publish/Savvy_Senior_33/Where_the_Presidential_Candidates_Stand_on_Social_Security_and_Medicare_printer.shtml
Penny, Tim. 2004. Social Security Needs Long-term Overhaul, not Campaign Slogans. Christian Science Monitor March, 15. http://www.csmonitor.com/2004/0315/p09s02-coop.html
Voting Machines (with sources): A brief history, several problems, and solutions
Voting Machines
What is often not thought about, questioned during almost every election year, and is important enough to swing any modern presidential appointment? The voting process. Millions are excluded from voting because of the things it requires you to do – some of which are exceedingly difficult for a number of Americans. Even more are politically apathetic because they do not believe their vote counts. There are many factors involved in the voting process: Registration, accessibility for the disabled and language minorities, inadequate poll worker training, audits and recounts, and now, machine hacking and reliability errors – just to name a few. What I am asking is this, are voting machines the best method of voting, and are they secure enough to trust?
160 years ago we were using non-secret, hand-counted paper ballots to vote (Voting Technology). This has obvious flaws. Any counter could easily throw away a vote he did not like. Also, constituents had to provide their own paper and make a sometimes lengthy journey to a voting center. 119 years ago we adopted the Australian Secret Ballot method. With this method the government printed paper ballots with the name of each candidate and where they all stood on important issues (Voting Technology). These ballots were still counted by hand however, and could be easily tampered with. In 1892 we began using the lever counting machine (Voting Technology). This was an answer to the call of dishonesty. With this system, people pulled a lever over the person they wanted to vote for, and the machine would instantly add another tally to that candidate. Fraud was still an issue, so 45 years ago we made the transition to punchcards (Voting Technology). The new ballots had numbers (which corresponded to a separate booklet with all the candidates listed) and spaces next to them to punch a hole out. A computer tally machine would then count all votes for the numbered candidate.
While fraud cases decreased, voter uncertainty increased because it was very easy to make a mistake and mark the wrong number. Around this same time some states adopt an optical scanning system (Voting Technology). In 1974 the first Direct Recording Electronic (DRE) voting system was used (Voting Technology). As technology advanced, so did this preferred process – until we have today’s method. Voter uncertainty and fraud cases decrease, but because the latest technology is being used, many new and equally dangerous problems arise.
In 2002 the Help America Vote Act (HAVA) was passed after numerous ballot recounts showed inaccuracy at the polls (Voting Systems). Optical scanning and DREs are now the most utilized of today’s voting methods (Voting Systems). HAVA was the main factor in this. New federal funds allowed states to purchase DREs and optical scanners, increasing by 17% the numbers of electronic voting machines, and decreasing other methods by 18% (Voting Systems). However, other manual systems such as punchcards, lever machines, and mixed (counties that use two or more voting methods) still comprise the other 40% (Voting Systems).
The downside. DREs have recorded the second highest residual vote rate (votes unable to be counted because of machine errors) in the 2000 election (Bermant). Additionally, information came out that Diebold executives (a major DRE manufacturer) are staunch republicans and give more funding to preferred candidates in counties which register as republican (Hart). This begs the question, since millions of Americans are only able to vote through DREs, is it fair for partisan manufacturers to help facilitate voting?
The idea of hacking also comes to mind. The Director of Secure Internet Programming at Princeton writes, “an attacker who gets physical access to a machine or its removable memory card for as little as one minute could install malicious code [which] could steal votes undetectably, modifying all records, logs, and counters to be consistent with the fraudulent vote count it creates. An attacker could also create malicious code that spreads automatically and silently from machine to machine (Feltman).”
Is it possible for a DRE to capture the intent of a voter (such was the problem in the 2000 election)? Since many DREs are touch screens, CEO of the Vote-PAD Company writes “The sensors in touch screen devices can be knocked out of alignment by shock and vibration that may occur during transport. Unless these sensors are realigned at the polling place prior to the start of voting, touch screen machines can misinterpret a voter's intent (Theisen).” With all other voting methods, when a recount is called for, poll workers can go back and manually interpret a punched ballot; but with a DRE, Tova Wang writes, “DRE machines do not provide an independent record of each individual ballot that can be used in a recount to check the machine for error or tampering. It is impossible to check if the voting machine records a vote in its memory different than the one the voter cast.”
Are DREs accessible to the blind and hearing impaired? Dawn Wilcox (qtd. in The San Jose Mercury News), president of the Silicon Valley Council of the Blind said, ”Among the criticisms provided by voters was poor sound quality, delayed response time and Braille that was positioned so awkwardly it could be read upside down.” In the case of Sam Chen, a blind man, the audio message on his DRE told him to press a yellow button (Ackerman). Like many others, he was unable to vote without assistance.
Personally, I can see many glaring issues with our modern voting machines. However, I have yet to come across a problem which can not be solved. Like all technology, it has its flaws, but it also helps to improve our current system. Through the creation of a voter review page and improved help for disabled citizens, we can increase accuracy at the polls. Also, to prevent the hijacking of a system, we can increase security at voting booths. Since it is necessary to gain internal access to the machines to hack them, strict screening processes should also be enforced on poll workers. With all of these combined measures and the constant advancement of technology, we should feel safe that our votes will be counted true and accurately. Of course, until these procedures are put in place…
Works Cited
Ackerman, Elise. “Blind Voters Rip E-Machines." 15 May 2004. http://www.mercurynews.com/.
Bermant, Arden. “Glossary of U.S. Voting Systems.” 26 April 2006. http://www.nist.gov/.
Felten, Edward. "Security Analysis of the Diebold AccuVote-TS Voting Machine." 13 September 2006. http://www.cs.princeton.edu/~felten/.
Hart, David. “Press release to announce the formation of the Election Technology Council.” 8 September 2004. http://www.electiontech.org/.
ProCon.org. "Historical Timeline of Electronic Voting Machines and Related Voting Technology.” 30 June 2008. http://votingmachines.procon.org/viewresource.asp?resourceID=273.
ProCon.org. “Voting Systems & Use in U.S. Presidential Elections since 1980.” 25 February 2008. http://votingmachines.procon.org/viewresource.asp?resourceID=274.
Theisen, Ellen. ”Myth Breakers: Facts About Electronic Elections.” 2005. http://www.vote-pad.us/.
Wang, Tova. “Understanding the Debate Over Electronic Voting Machines." 26 May 2004. http://www.reformelections.org/.
What is often not thought about, questioned during almost every election year, and is important enough to swing any modern presidential appointment? The voting process. Millions are excluded from voting because of the things it requires you to do – some of which are exceedingly difficult for a number of Americans. Even more are politically apathetic because they do not believe their vote counts. There are many factors involved in the voting process: Registration, accessibility for the disabled and language minorities, inadequate poll worker training, audits and recounts, and now, machine hacking and reliability errors – just to name a few. What I am asking is this, are voting machines the best method of voting, and are they secure enough to trust?
160 years ago we were using non-secret, hand-counted paper ballots to vote (Voting Technology). This has obvious flaws. Any counter could easily throw away a vote he did not like. Also, constituents had to provide their own paper and make a sometimes lengthy journey to a voting center. 119 years ago we adopted the Australian Secret Ballot method. With this method the government printed paper ballots with the name of each candidate and where they all stood on important issues (Voting Technology). These ballots were still counted by hand however, and could be easily tampered with. In 1892 we began using the lever counting machine (Voting Technology). This was an answer to the call of dishonesty. With this system, people pulled a lever over the person they wanted to vote for, and the machine would instantly add another tally to that candidate. Fraud was still an issue, so 45 years ago we made the transition to punchcards (Voting Technology). The new ballots had numbers (which corresponded to a separate booklet with all the candidates listed) and spaces next to them to punch a hole out. A computer tally machine would then count all votes for the numbered candidate.
While fraud cases decreased, voter uncertainty increased because it was very easy to make a mistake and mark the wrong number. Around this same time some states adopt an optical scanning system (Voting Technology). In 1974 the first Direct Recording Electronic (DRE) voting system was used (Voting Technology). As technology advanced, so did this preferred process – until we have today’s method. Voter uncertainty and fraud cases decrease, but because the latest technology is being used, many new and equally dangerous problems arise.
In 2002 the Help America Vote Act (HAVA) was passed after numerous ballot recounts showed inaccuracy at the polls (Voting Systems). Optical scanning and DREs are now the most utilized of today’s voting methods (Voting Systems). HAVA was the main factor in this. New federal funds allowed states to purchase DREs and optical scanners, increasing by 17% the numbers of electronic voting machines, and decreasing other methods by 18% (Voting Systems). However, other manual systems such as punchcards, lever machines, and mixed (counties that use two or more voting methods) still comprise the other 40% (Voting Systems).
The downside. DREs have recorded the second highest residual vote rate (votes unable to be counted because of machine errors) in the 2000 election (Bermant). Additionally, information came out that Diebold executives (a major DRE manufacturer) are staunch republicans and give more funding to preferred candidates in counties which register as republican (Hart). This begs the question, since millions of Americans are only able to vote through DREs, is it fair for partisan manufacturers to help facilitate voting?
The idea of hacking also comes to mind. The Director of Secure Internet Programming at Princeton writes, “an attacker who gets physical access to a machine or its removable memory card for as little as one minute could install malicious code [which] could steal votes undetectably, modifying all records, logs, and counters to be consistent with the fraudulent vote count it creates. An attacker could also create malicious code that spreads automatically and silently from machine to machine (Feltman).”
Is it possible for a DRE to capture the intent of a voter (such was the problem in the 2000 election)? Since many DREs are touch screens, CEO of the Vote-PAD Company writes “The sensors in touch screen devices can be knocked out of alignment by shock and vibration that may occur during transport. Unless these sensors are realigned at the polling place prior to the start of voting, touch screen machines can misinterpret a voter's intent (Theisen).” With all other voting methods, when a recount is called for, poll workers can go back and manually interpret a punched ballot; but with a DRE, Tova Wang writes, “DRE machines do not provide an independent record of each individual ballot that can be used in a recount to check the machine for error or tampering. It is impossible to check if the voting machine records a vote in its memory different than the one the voter cast.”
Are DREs accessible to the blind and hearing impaired? Dawn Wilcox (qtd. in The San Jose Mercury News), president of the Silicon Valley Council of the Blind said, ”Among the criticisms provided by voters was poor sound quality, delayed response time and Braille that was positioned so awkwardly it could be read upside down.” In the case of Sam Chen, a blind man, the audio message on his DRE told him to press a yellow button (Ackerman). Like many others, he was unable to vote without assistance.
Personally, I can see many glaring issues with our modern voting machines. However, I have yet to come across a problem which can not be solved. Like all technology, it has its flaws, but it also helps to improve our current system. Through the creation of a voter review page and improved help for disabled citizens, we can increase accuracy at the polls. Also, to prevent the hijacking of a system, we can increase security at voting booths. Since it is necessary to gain internal access to the machines to hack them, strict screening processes should also be enforced on poll workers. With all of these combined measures and the constant advancement of technology, we should feel safe that our votes will be counted true and accurately. Of course, until these procedures are put in place…
Works Cited
Ackerman, Elise. “Blind Voters Rip E-Machines." 15 May 2004. http://www.mercurynews.com/.
Bermant, Arden. “Glossary of U.S. Voting Systems.” 26 April 2006. http://www.nist.gov/.
Felten, Edward. "Security Analysis of the Diebold AccuVote-TS Voting Machine." 13 September 2006. http://www.cs.princeton.edu/~felten/.
Hart, David. “Press release to announce the formation of the Election Technology Council.” 8 September 2004. http://www.electiontech.org/.
ProCon.org. "Historical Timeline of Electronic Voting Machines and Related Voting Technology.” 30 June 2008. http://votingmachines.procon.org/viewresource.asp?resourceID=273.
ProCon.org. “Voting Systems & Use in U.S. Presidential Elections since 1980.” 25 February 2008. http://votingmachines.procon.org/viewresource.asp?resourceID=274.
Theisen, Ellen. ”Myth Breakers: Facts About Electronic Elections.” 2005. http://www.vote-pad.us/.
Wang, Tova. “Understanding the Debate Over Electronic Voting Machines." 26 May 2004. http://www.reformelections.org/.
One Critique of Capitalism
I am not a communist, Ron Paul "Revolutionary," socialist, or any other ideology. So when I say that capitalism is a black mark on the nations flag and the source of most evils in the world, I am speaking from a strictly observational stance.
According to the American Heritage Dictionary capitalism is "An economic system in which the means of production and distribution are privately or corporately owned and development is proportionate to the accumulation and reinvestment of profits gained in a free market." There are two things that you should be taken from this:
1) Capitalism is an economic system. It was never meant to intrude upon our social or political selves. However, by its very nature it must do so. Example: Owning any means of productions (factory, farm, etc.) puts the owner in a position of great power -- and with that comes great responsibility. The employer must make sure that workers are able to take care of his farm. This could mean providing a tractor. Now the owner of the Farm needs to deal with the Tractor Company. What are fair methods of dealing? Should the Tractor Company treat each client equally or give discounts to bigger farms?
In capitalism the answer is simple: charge the highest amount possible while maintaining the lowest cost of production (to maximize profit). The simplest method is to get materials from the cheapest source and underpay employees. Inevitably we end up with a top-down system in which the bourgeoisie (owners of the means of production) enjoy a significantly higher standard of living than the workers.
So what happens when the workers can't pay rent because they do not receive a living wage? Should the Farm owner pay him more? Is he responsible at all for his employees' well-being? Capitalism says no. Pay raises would cut down on profits, duh!
So if the objective in a capitalist economy is to maximize profits, what are the costs (other than overhead)?
One, worker happiness. The owner of the Farm must pay the lowest amount possible if he wants to compete with other business. This means that as a Farm worker, you will never be able to reach the same level of success as the Farm owner. What then, is the motivation for working if you can never advance yourself in society?
Modern: why work if I can be on welfare? or Why take pride and work hard if there is no recognition?
Two, a class system. There are automatically at least two classes: Owner and Worker. If the scenario is similar to the one I've described, then the Worker will remain impoverished in his class until he dies -- doesn't sound very fun to me. Sub-classes are also likely. Distinguishing factors like Owner class (2 tractors v. 3) and Worker (with house v. worker with apartment) for example.
Modern: extreme differences between the lower and upper class cause many Americans to feel disenfranchised and less important than a person of a different class.
Three, biased political control. Why would people on federal tax payroll want/need to take care of citizens that do not contribute as much to their salary? If the government forces the Farm to pay workers a living wage they will both be losing money.
Modern: the NRA donates millions of dollars to campaign funds and when it comes time for the ban on assault weapons to be renewed, it "miraculously" is allowed to expire.
Four, unjust social control. Obviously those that control the wealth have a direct influence on our lives. If the Farm owner decides to provide health care at his expense, workers may live longer. On the other hand, if he denies them this privilege, we may experience a higher level of disease and death.
Modern: actually the health care thing is still applicable.
2) The second thing we should learn from the American Heritage Dictionary's definition of capitalism is "...development is proportionate to the accumulation and reinvestment of profits gained in a free market." This speaks volumes. It basically states that a capitalist system must exist in a market free of regulations (minimum wage, product safety standards, etc.) and constraints (anti-trust/monopoly laws, etc.) to achieve its goals. Thus it becomes the government's job as the ruling body to protect its people from capitalism's wanton disregard of the public good.
However, said government is not born from the desire to better mankind. Instead, the government must find a balance between protecting capitalist industry standards (which mandate as little humanity as possible,) while guaranteeing basic rights to men who do not possess the influence to buy them. This government -- our government, does not peacefully coexist with the capitalist economy. Rather, it is locked in a constant moral struggle between what is good and just, and what will maximize profit. In other words: we, the people, are never the complete winner in a battle of rights versus money. We are torn to either side of the spectrum, weighted as a pro or a con against the interests of big business.
Point in case, capitalism as a solely economic system is an impossibility. As pointed out, this particular economic theory encroaches on almost every aspect of our lives, and in many cases has a negative impact. It forces us to consistently place money or morality over self-interests (such as food and shelter for loved ones) in a contest which requires necessary and unrelenting sacrifice from either side.
According to the American Heritage Dictionary capitalism is "An economic system in which the means of production and distribution are privately or corporately owned and development is proportionate to the accumulation and reinvestment of profits gained in a free market." There are two things that you should be taken from this:
1) Capitalism is an economic system. It was never meant to intrude upon our social or political selves. However, by its very nature it must do so. Example: Owning any means of productions (factory, farm, etc.) puts the owner in a position of great power -- and with that comes great responsibility. The employer must make sure that workers are able to take care of his farm. This could mean providing a tractor. Now the owner of the Farm needs to deal with the Tractor Company. What are fair methods of dealing? Should the Tractor Company treat each client equally or give discounts to bigger farms?
In capitalism the answer is simple: charge the highest amount possible while maintaining the lowest cost of production (to maximize profit). The simplest method is to get materials from the cheapest source and underpay employees. Inevitably we end up with a top-down system in which the bourgeoisie (owners of the means of production) enjoy a significantly higher standard of living than the workers.
So what happens when the workers can't pay rent because they do not receive a living wage? Should the Farm owner pay him more? Is he responsible at all for his employees' well-being? Capitalism says no. Pay raises would cut down on profits, duh!
So if the objective in a capitalist economy is to maximize profits, what are the costs (other than overhead)?
One, worker happiness. The owner of the Farm must pay the lowest amount possible if he wants to compete with other business. This means that as a Farm worker, you will never be able to reach the same level of success as the Farm owner. What then, is the motivation for working if you can never advance yourself in society?
Modern: why work if I can be on welfare? or Why take pride and work hard if there is no recognition?
Two, a class system. There are automatically at least two classes: Owner and Worker. If the scenario is similar to the one I've described, then the Worker will remain impoverished in his class until he dies -- doesn't sound very fun to me. Sub-classes are also likely. Distinguishing factors like Owner class (2 tractors v. 3) and Worker (with house v. worker with apartment) for example.
Modern: extreme differences between the lower and upper class cause many Americans to feel disenfranchised and less important than a person of a different class.
Three, biased political control. Why would people on federal tax payroll want/need to take care of citizens that do not contribute as much to their salary? If the government forces the Farm to pay workers a living wage they will both be losing money.
Modern: the NRA donates millions of dollars to campaign funds and when it comes time for the ban on assault weapons to be renewed, it "miraculously" is allowed to expire.
Four, unjust social control. Obviously those that control the wealth have a direct influence on our lives. If the Farm owner decides to provide health care at his expense, workers may live longer. On the other hand, if he denies them this privilege, we may experience a higher level of disease and death.
Modern: actually the health care thing is still applicable.
2) The second thing we should learn from the American Heritage Dictionary's definition of capitalism is "...development is proportionate to the accumulation and reinvestment of profits gained in a free market." This speaks volumes. It basically states that a capitalist system must exist in a market free of regulations (minimum wage, product safety standards, etc.) and constraints (anti-trust/monopoly laws, etc.) to achieve its goals. Thus it becomes the government's job as the ruling body to protect its people from capitalism's wanton disregard of the public good.
However, said government is not born from the desire to better mankind. Instead, the government must find a balance between protecting capitalist industry standards (which mandate as little humanity as possible,) while guaranteeing basic rights to men who do not possess the influence to buy them. This government -- our government, does not peacefully coexist with the capitalist economy. Rather, it is locked in a constant moral struggle between what is good and just, and what will maximize profit. In other words: we, the people, are never the complete winner in a battle of rights versus money. We are torn to either side of the spectrum, weighted as a pro or a con against the interests of big business.
Point in case, capitalism as a solely economic system is an impossibility. As pointed out, this particular economic theory encroaches on almost every aspect of our lives, and in many cases has a negative impact. It forces us to consistently place money or morality over self-interests (such as food and shelter for loved ones) in a contest which requires necessary and unrelenting sacrifice from either side.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)