Drawing Swords Against the Deluge
Posted on 3 September 2010 | 1 response
A reader calls me to task for my Christian pessimism about the world, or, to call it by a poetic name, the Vale of Tears. Let me reprint his whole note, and answer, hat in hand, as best I may.
Hm…
You are definitely an interesting one, Mr. Wright. I sometimes find my worldview seriously reconsidered after reading your work, and sometimes I decide you are a complete moron. Frequently you inspire both in the same article.
May I say you actually convinced me to choose chastity until marriage from one of your series of articles, convinced me into informed atheism from one of your books, and have so far gotten about halfway into getting me into some kind of religion from the rest of your blog.
I say this because I am seriously troubled by one point you make here:
“The Christian world view (or, to use the technical term, the Truth) is that this world is doomed in the same way that the antediluvian world was doomed. The Christian man is not in the position of Hercules, able to slay the Hydra-headed and Nemean-lion-hided and brass-winged birds of postmodern post-rational neo-barbarism and able to clean out the Augean stables of modern culture.
The Christian man is in the position of Noah. Our mission is to warn you, dear reader, to leave off making mud pies in the filth of the Augean stables of Modern Life and to get on the boat before the waters rise. Noah’s heroism was not in worldly Herculean strength, but was instead in otherworldly fidelity to an incredible and unbelievable message he heard from heaven: Noah had the strength of character to believe something his reason told him he ought to believe, even if his neighbors mocked, and the skies showed not a single cloud of evidence to support him.
So, no Christians do not need to be in the shoes of Caesar or Pontius Pilot to save the world. That salvation was done by one whose feet were pierced by nails: as far as the world could see, a crackpot agitator who died a traitor’s grisly death. This is because the world sees things backward. The cross the world sees as an instrument of torture, humiliation, and death we Christians see as exalted, and we take it as our labarum of comfort, glory, and victory.
So again I say no, Christians do not need our hands on the levers of worldly power to accomplish our otherworldly goals. Prayers are more powerful than votes.”
This strikes me as a rather deep weakness.
No, more than that. It seems contrary to one of your strongest arguments in this article and ones like it.
To me this seems if anything ungrateful, cowardly, and in a state of absolute despair that Christian hope should have destroyed based on nearly everything else you have ever written.
Reflections in a Chessboard
Posted on 3 September 2010 | 15 responses
“Consider the Chinese Room, or better still consider Deep Blue, the chess machine. Nobody claims that Deep Blue has consciousness, but it has intelligence in the very narrow sense of playing excellent chess.”
And Grandfather Clock has intelligence in the very narrow sense of being able to count the minutes and hours correctly, adding up the sums in its head, and telling me the correct time, by deciding to play the chimes hanging in his case. Oddly, Grandfather Clock always decides just exactly on the hour and half-hour to ring the correct chimes. I am astonished at how accurately Grandfather Clock’s sense of timing is, how tirelessly he attends to his task, and how he never loses count or mistakes the number of minutes in an hour. No doubt Grandfather Clock is helped in the tireless precision of his thinking process by the wheels and gears that make up his brain. Nonetheless, we all must commend Grandfather Clock for his diligence and uncomplaining attention to detail. He is as patient and devout as a Beefeater Guard who stands before Buckingham Palace, and, like them, he never stirs from the spot where he has decided to stand.
I am kidding, of course. Grandfather Clock is a machine.
Return to the Chinese Room
Posted on 2 September 2010 | 23 responses
In an earlier article, I had this to say about the famous Chinese Room of Robert Searle:
Robert Searle asks the following question: suppose you had a room that could pass the Turing Test. Written questions in Chinese are passed into the mail slot of a room, and, after a while, a written answer comes out, and the Chinese reader is satisfied that the answers are intelligent. Inside the Chinese room, however is nothing but a series of filing cabinets cards on which are written Chinese characters, and a notebook or set of notebooks with a set of rules. In the room is a man who does not read Chinese. The rules tell the man when he sees a note, and the first ideogram is a (to him) meaningless squiggle of a certain shape, to go to a specific cabinet, open a certain file, go to a certain page, copy the character written there, go to another page copy that character, and so on. The rules can be as complicated as you like. The man sees the second ideogram of such-and-such a squiggle, he is to go not to file A but to file B, open folder 1, copy page 3, and so on.
An Announcement
Posted on 1 September 2010 | 11 responses
It has been brought rather sharply to my attention that I have been quite rude and condescending both to people I respect and admire, and to the people whose respect and admiration I have no reason to diminish beneath its current realistically low level.
The internet tempted me, and I turned into a troll on my own blog.
I hereby repent, and announcing the initiation of a new policy of a kindlier and gentler curmudgeon — and maybe I can remember that half the people I disagree with, the disagreement is because they are right and I am wrong, rather than the reverse.
I make such a boast about addressing my honorable opposition with Houyhnhnm-like logic, it is doubly shameful to realize that I indulge in Yahoo-like antics.
So, next time I stoop to sarcasm and condescension, I will not only be guilty of being uncharitable and, worse, illogical, I will also be guilty of violating this solemn promise to you, my dear reader, whoever you are.
Next time I start getting out of line, anyone and everyone is welcome to drop me the hint and reminder that I made this announcement.
* * *
ADDENDUM: (Despite the above announcement, the kindlier and gentler curmudgeon is still going to ban anyone who “corrects” my grammar or vocabulary according to the rules of political correctness. That is not a matter of honor nor of courtesy: it is a political powerplay pretending to be a matter of honor or courtesy.)
Blindsided by Blindsight
Posted on 31 August 2010 | 16 responses
I reprint this article from two years ago in response to a question by a reader, who goes by the august yet duodecimal title of Wildrow12 (not his real name). I offered the opinion that BLINDSIGHT by Peter Watts was an excellent yet flawed book, and was asked in what way I found the work flawed.
My regret about this article is that it concentrates so heavily on the negative, that the real strengths and virtues of the book, it expert world building and effortless genius of story-telling, are mentioned only in passing. On rereading it, I conclude my article is simply unfair: the book is darkly brilliant, and I only complain the kvetch about the mistakes, without complimenting the brilliance as enthusiastically as it deserves. Read what follows with that reservation in mind.
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This is only in part a book review; in part it is a meditation on some of the topics raised by the books involved.
By some odd coincidence, I read BLINDSIGHT by Peter Watts (available on the web here http://www.rifters.com/real/Blindsight.htm ) the same day I read THE CUBE AND THE CATHEDRAL by George Weigel. The contrast between the two books, and the world views represented, could not be more clear.
SPOILER WARNINGS !!!
I discuss the surprise ending of BLINDSIGHT below, so for pity’s sake, if you mean to read this book, do not read this review.
Hercules and Noah, Scylla and Charybdis, and the Argument from Design
Posted on 30 August 2010 | 58 responses
Part of an ongoing conversation. The beginnings of it are here (http://www.scifiwright.com/2010/08/whats-wrong-with-the-world/ ) and here (http://www.scifiwright.com/2010/08/whats-wrong-with-whats-wrong-with-the-world/) And here (http://www.scifiwright.com/2010/08/whats-wrong-with-whats-wrong-with-the-world/comment-page-1/#comment-48427 )
Flamingphonebook (not his real name) and I are discussing the sickness of modern philosophy by means of the conceit of a dialog between Diogenes and an Imaginary Modern Man:
Of the imaginary dialog with an imaginary modern man, I “understand” (comprehend) the thought-avoiding thought process of the illogical self-indulgent whim-worshiper well enough, but I do not “understand” (sympathize with) the endless litany of excuses and self-deceptions an illogical and half-broken mind of necessity embraces in its never-ending struggle to hide from reason and reality.
Likewise, I do not “understand” (sympathize) the Apocalyptic description of those who call upon the mountains to fall on them, rather than face of glory of heaven, albeit I do “understand” (comprehend) how it is possible for a man to be so addicted to falsehood that he would rather die in an avalanche than see what the terrifying looking glass of Reason might reveal.
Ignoring the Debt You Owe Heinlein
Posted on 27 August 2010 | 57 responses
Over at Tor.com and SfSignal, there is some internetual (note useful new word!) discussion of Robert A. Heinlein and his legacy.
The ingratitude that hangs like a cloud of phosgene gas over the discussions I find as ugly and appalling as I do incomprehensible.
One writer opines, for example, that Heinlein was both a pro-feminist and a sexist pig. Me, because I harbor no illusions about what feminism truly stands for, I see no irony in that. I note that Hugh Hefner, pornographer, also was a pro-feminist and a sexist pig — this is the jarring combination is inevitable as long as modesty, femininity, chastity and fidelity are seen by feminists as enemies of equality for women rather than allies. Heinlein and Hefner perhaps sincerely believed in liberating women from the shackles of monogamy, and surely sincerely wish to liberate them all the way into a harem.
The topic is interesting. Nonetheless, the tone of ingratitude and supercilious condescension falling from the raised eyebrows and sneering lips of the leftward-leaning half of the commentators deters me from delving further into their conversation.
Wright’s Writing Corner — Show, Don’t Tell
Posted on 25 August 2010 | 11 responses
This week’s Wright’s Writing Corner has some sage advice by David Marcoe –
Show, don’t tell. Yes, oldest advice in the world, but one so often forgotten it helps to list it first. Often, in stories called “dense” or “philosophical,” characters will begin speaking more than acting, stopping to chide, declare or preach, often for an extended periods. The writer has so much to *say* and the simplest way is to put it in the character’s mouths.
The first and simplest mistake is that these conversations don’t naturally arise from what’s happening in the story; they feel like an interruption in what’s going on.
I recommend what he has to say, and wish my characters would follow his guidance voluntarily, and stop making speeches.
Jeesh! I tried reasoning with my characters, and when that failed, had to resort to threats. “Phaethon, shut UP already about Ricardo’s Theory of Comparative Advantage already! You have Space Pirates from the Black Hole of Cygnus X-1 to fight! I already have the alternate ending written where the Silent Oecumene wins, and Atkins runs off with your girl, and your whole life turns out to be a hallucination caused by a library malfuncation! You wanna ave the day and smooch the girl when the credits roll, then do your darned job and stop yacking!” — but by this point, he had tuned his sense filter to exclude me. Moral: never write characters bold enough to ignore their creators.
Favorite Science Fiction Settings
Posted on 25 August 2010 | 2 responses
The fine fellows over at SfSignal were kind enough to solicit my opinion about my favorite SFF settings. In my typical orotund fashion, I analyzed the several possible meaning of the question and defined the role of setting in “counterfactual fiction” (my newly-coined term for SFF) before saying I liked Tolkien’s Middle Earth and Zelazny’s Amber and especially liked the Tschai, Planet of Adventure, of Jack Vance.
http://www.sfsignal.com/archives/2010/08/mind-meld-favorite-sf-and-f-settings/
On a Slightly Lighter Note
Posted on 24 August 2010 | 16 responses
I plugged in the verbiage from my short story, ‘One Bright Star to Guide Them’ which appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction in the April-May edition of the magazine (I plugged in the first chapter of my current novel, COUNT TO A TRILLION, but it came out that my writing style matched that of Vladimir Nabokov, a writer not to my taste, so I decided to see whether a second sample would produce a more flattering result.)
William Shakespeare
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