The Ambiguity of Opposition

It is rare to find a use of language, a phrase or articulation, which has not already been released and lost in the echo chamber of text on the web.

When this phrase — the ambiguity of opposition — dawned on me, literally in the shower (eureka?), it gave a name to something i had first understood through a diagram i sketched on a post-it pad, nearly ten years ago. And it seems indeed not to have been discussed before, at least not in these terms. (Note: i assume there are terms and axioms of geometrical logic applicable here, but my ignorance of them has necessitated this probable re-invention / rearticulation.)

My phrase aims to indicate the importance of distinguishing between the best (aka: strongest) argument against an idea, and an argument that is simply its (direct) opposite. It is a gesture towards more thoroughly / rigorously critical engagement with the complexities of particular problems, ideas and arguments.

Here is the diagram:

The question it asks is: Which arrow “opposes” the red arrow? The answer of course is they all do; determining which opposition is most useful will depend on both one’s frame of reference and one’s purpose.

In this highly abstracted form, it may seem perfectly insignificant; but its conceptual inevitability underlines its importance. In any process of decision-making in which a change is desired, and especially in developing a political strategy, whenever we are considering which direction is best, we have more, often better options than a mere about-face.

I'll leave unstated (for now) my judgment of the implications for anarchist activism; no big news there. However i will add, since i think it's generally worth noting, that over time — as with sailing — several tacks may be required to reach a desirable destination.

The point is simple enough: to generate good ideas we have to work harder than simply inverting bad (or flawed) ones. Such “opposition” merely reproduces the original idea’s defects, in a mirrored fashion. The problem of the pendulum swing, so to speak. It’s a familiar problem, and i’m not presenting anything new as a solution; but i may have achieved some useful novelty by re-casting the issue in (abstractly) clear terms and representing it visually.

I’m writing a more detailed explanation of the implications of this ambiguity, in (what passes for) academic language (i may find a place for it in my thesis), but i think the diagram largely speaks for itself; once the intention is made explicit, the meaning is apparent.

We need better ideas, not merely opposite ones.

Ultimately, awareness of this “ambiguity of opposition” may also be useful for illustrating when the impulse to compromise will yield no improvement. But first we have to recognize our position.

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It’s going to be a busy week. I have some half-baked thoughts (about food and shopping, among other things) that are almost ready. I’ll be sharing them here very soon.

Golden Hours

First, i have to say, though i may be the only person in Vancouver to feel this way: i really missed the rain. That was a long sunny spell. Nothing wrong with a little sunshine, but come on, this city is supposed to be lush and green… It needs to be watered.

Anyway, this will be the first of a few posts focusing on some of the themes and thoughts emerging from various movies, shows, games, sites, books and other media we (Sara and i, mostly) have been turning to lately for entertainment.

Not that there’s a whole lot of time for such indulgences, really. But throughout the summer, and especially in the weeks since we got back from our epic travels (which maybe i’ll recap in another post), after we’ve finally put Roy to bed for the evening — which is a feat in itself sometimes, even though he’s not a fussy baby in general — once we’re on our own with two or three hours to act like grown ups… well, that’s what we do i guess: we usually have a snack and/or a cup of tea and watch something on TV. Although in our case “TV” means a 24-inch iMac, and “something” means Buffy the Vampire Slayer (and Angel).

Yeah, Buffy. Right now, that’s our jam.

And, just in case we aren’t the very last people on Earth (or the internet) to discover Buffy, let me just say, for the record: it’s actually even better than the best things you’ve heard anyone say about it. Probably ten times better. I’ve become a huge Joss Whedon fan in recent years — “backwards” in a way, because the first Whedon creation i ever saw was the life-changing masterpiece Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog. After that, on the recommendation of a very enlightened friend (who generously lent us the DVDs) we watched Firefly and Serenity. And we even managed to catch a few episodes of Dollhouse before it got cancelled (yup, i plan to buy it when the full series becomes available this fall). But we hadn’t watched Buffy.

Well, that’s not strictly true. Of course i remember when the original movie came out (the one with Luke Perry — hence my never watching it, to this day). But because i had heard, from so many reliable sources, that the show was exceptionally good, i downloaded it, put season one on my iPod and started watching it at the gym. And started going to the gym more often. But, though i was enjoying it, season one didn’t kidnap me and hold me for ransom. That happened later… Since i am resolutely opposed to even the slightest spoilers, i’ll say no more (for now), because i actually want to write about something else. A bunch of things, really, but i’ll pick one or two.

Last night we decided to interrupt our ongoing Buffy marathon — we’re on season five (season two of Angel) — and put on a movie for a change. Hey, we like to mix it up sometimes. When we’re feeling a little more energetic, we might play LEGO Harry Potter on the Wii (which is wicked, btw), but more often, we’re in a pretty passive mode in those stolen hours before our bedtime. So we let the actors (and directors, etc.) do the playing; we just watch.

Sara wanted to see The Golden Compass because she just finished reading the (audio)books. I’d overheard bits of the story and thought it sounded cool, so i was into it, but i enjoyed it even more thoroughly than i could have expected. I was literally cheering — especially for the Ian McKellen-voiced armored bear: holy shit, that bear fight was insane!

I had no idea, until after the usual post-movie IMDB and Wikipedia browsing, that the movie, and the books, had been so controversial. It seems awfully silly of course, but this is an “American” movie — based on a book by an English author, but… sometimes i forget how lucky we are to live in such a thoroughly secular country.

After enjoying the film, but subsequently learning of its embattled creation and existence, and having Sara explain several weaknesses arising from the film’s deviation from the source material — especially its compromises on the book’s criticism of authoritarian religious dogma (in general, and the Catholic church in particular) — and after reading about how the watering-down of those critical elements in the movie still wasn’t enough to prevent all kinds of wacky religious fanatics from attacking it (which certainly contributed to the disappointing box office performance in the U.S. that seems to have killed all hope for the sequels), i arrived at a conclusion.

The Golden Compass could have been an awesome achievement of profound cultural significance; instead it is “merely” a great adventure movie.

After sleeping (briefly, it seems), i felt that the sordid real-world tale of compromise in the face of censorship and intolerance ultimately overshadowed the joys of the fictional tale of a young heroine riding a noble polar bear. And that just makes the censorship even more upsetting.

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It’s always been plainly amazing to me that anyone actually believes in “the sky bully” but i’m slowly gaining an understanding of how religious institutions gain power, and of their parasitic relationship with people’s faith. That is, i’m learning some of the historical explanations (not justifications) of how the church could become (and, in some places, remain) so powerful for so long.

In my own immediate experience also, i’m gaining some insights into this.

Since we humans are (some say uniquely) animals that can modify our actions based not only on learning from things that have actually happened, but also by imagining things that could happen in the future, we can imagine our best possible future: success, integrity, happiness — this is often like taking a pleasant nap, and though such little dreams may not be folly (apologies, Voltairine) they are easy to forget — or, we can imagine our worst nightmares: failure, guilt, tragedy. And we (can) act accordingly: based on either the hopes or fears that our imagined futures inspire.

It’s an easy (not so “secret”) trap to fall into, to claim that we should focus only on the positive futures, and not dwell on the negative ones; but uncritical optimism isn’t just quaintly silly, it can be outrageously irresponsible. We may not individually be risking colossal oil spills, but anyone’s actions can have serious consequences. What’s on my mind, of course (no, it’s not "diversity of tactics" this time) is our baby.

Recently, we’ve had some of our first experiences of (moments of) genuine terror as parents.

In addition to the unspeakable fear that comes with Roy’s new ability to move around, and therefore hurt himself, comes new dimensions of potential guilt — which, perverse though it may be, is one example of where visions of hell (and heaven, of course) can be a comfort. A guilty conscience, wrapped in anger at oneself, can take comfort in knowing that eternal damnation awaits the souls of those who deserve to be punished. It can make things seem right, on a cosmic scale, when things here in the world seem wrong (and “it’s all my fault”). Don’t worry nothing horrible has actually happened. But i’m terribly aware of how easily something serious could.

Of course, i don’t believe in an angry, fearful, jealous, vengeful god. Or even, as Nick Cave put it, an “interventionist” one. I basically agree with Bakunin that, if such a god existed, it would be our job to destroy him. However, i also agree with Einstein, when he said: “I believe in Spinoza's God who reveals himself in the orderly harmony of what exists, not in a God who concerns himself with fates and actions of human beings.”

Thinking about this stuff set off an intricate chain of associations:

First, it reminded me of Michael J. Fox’s most recent book, and his gestures toward belief in a heaven without a hell (because there’s plenty of hell here on Earth), which in turn called to mind that chapter on hell in Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, which brought up Ulysses being banned, which made me think of an episode of censorship from my childhood: the Calgary comic shop (Comic Legends), where i bought hundreds of X-Men, Spiderman and Daredevil comics, got sued for selling obscene materials to minors, and there was a whole culture war that ensued… Ultimately this train of thought brought me back to the present, reflecting on the recent Pride parade (my first, and also Roy’s) and this great article from Xtra West.

So maybe being a happy dad isn’t as simple as i might’ve hoped when i announced that i was going to focus my writing less on the details of political debates, and more on the joys of culture and relationships, because of course those are all riddled with difficulties (including political schisms) and subject to debate as well, and even mundane moments of daily life contain hints of both bliss and torment.

Speaking of heaven, i was near there on Thursday, when Joanna Newsom and her band played at the Vogue — not as nice a venue as St. Andrew's-Wesley (where i saw her last time), but it wouldn’t matter where she played: her songs always take me closer to that celestial realm. But Sara (and Roy) couldn’t join me, so (despite the presence of many beautiful friends, for whom i’m deeply grateful), there was an extra layer of emotional potency in the music: the empty seat beside me seemed to echo with both enormous gratitude for my family, and the longing to share more of life with them than is possible.

The experience deserves a fuller description, but Roy’s awake now and i want to play with him. I’ve been showing him my musical instruments, and playing some songs. Today seems like a good day to sing Here Comes the Sun.

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PS: We'll be bringing Roy to Under the Volcano tomorrow; i'm looking forward to it, but i also can't believe it'll be the last one. So many memories...