Thursday, September 20, 2007

Shadow of the Colossus

Colossus: The Forbin Project struck me, not just as an all-too-possible doomsday scenario, but as a deeply religious movie and concept. Think of it like this: Man has demonstrated his incapability to govern himself, so he creates god. In the absence of god in this scientific era, he creates Colossus do deal with all the tough issues he can’t tackle himself. Colossus achieves the order that man desires, but man complains that the order and security that he desires comes at the price of liberty. Colossus solves our problems. Overpopulation, war, famine and disease are all but an unpleasant memory with Colossus. But was it wrong for Colossus to be built in the first place? Yes, of course. People should never give up freedom for protection—those who do deserve neither. But as Colossus achieves godhood, the world will become almost utopian, but we achieve it by kicking and screaming. Colossus needed a failsafe. Without it, Forbin sealed the fate of humanity. That being said, Colossus isn’t bad, merely an alternative version of what we have right now. Moving toward lawlessness is the only way to reassert our humanity, but that will only make “The Machine” push back even harder.

I’m not a religious man. Hell, I can’t spell “religion” half the time, but one thing that I have noticed as a theme throughout the genre is that the doomsday scenarios and horror comes from a direct breaking of either the 10 commandments or the 7 deadly sins, usually both. Forbin is a proud man and he creates a god and a false idol. Just an observation.

Book of Machines

I found “The Book of the Machines” to be very fascinating and also ahead of its time. I’m not sure exactly when it was written, but it contains many themes later explored by Asimov. Notably, the significance of machine consciousness seems to play a key role. Who am I to say that the machine that I am using right now isn’t capable of function beyond that which it is programmed to do. I for one am not sure that I am no more than a organic automaton, and that everything I do, say, feel, think, type, etc. is not dictated by either past experiences or inborn instincts. So what is consciousness anyway? Is it only the concept that I am self-aware? Is this computer self-aware? Certainly it seems so sometimes. It understands, as far as I believe it does, that it is a machine and can converse with other machines. It is capable of independent thought insofar as I believe that I am capable of thought not dictated by outside influence or instinct—which is to say none. But Butler makes a point, and I’m not sure it is one he was actually trying to make, which is that none of us can fully understand or comprehend what the true meaning of consciousness entails. Where it starts, where it ends and what contains it are all great questions, which may not have easy answers. I believe I have some degree of consciousness because I am more or less fully aware to comprehend my actions. But are animals, vegetables and machines capable of the same processes? When I look at my cat, I believe he knows what he is and is able to comprehend his actions. Ants seem to work toward a goal, even bacteria will seek out ways to nourish themselves and reproduce, and although their ways are different from mine, they are not entirely foreign. The venus flytrap will catch a fly for its nitrogen. Recently, there was a study that said that plants can feel some degree of pain. While this is somewhat refutable, there is no doubt that they react to stimuli. So how is a potato different from an oyster? How are either of these different from a calculator? If a jellyfish is alive, but Deep Blue, the computer that defeated chess champion Gary Kasparov isn’t, perhaps we need to rethink what life is.