Showing posts with label doctor who. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doctor who. Show all posts

Friday, November 30, 2012

Science (Fiction) and Faith

            Society has instinctively come to assume that ‘religion’ and ‘faith’ are brother and sister terms with the same meaning. Although Merriam-Webster states that the word ‘faith’ means “belief or trust in God or the doctrines of a religion”, there is one question to ask: Cannot faith also be in something quite isolated from religion itself?

On September 17, 2011, the eleventh episode of the sixth series of the British science fiction TV series Doctor Who premiered on BBC One. In this episode, an alien time traveler named ‘the Doctor’ and his companions Amy and Rory find themselves trapped in a 1980s hotel with constantly shifting and changing corridors. They meet a group of people who all have no clue as to how they arrived in the hotel: Rita, a Muslim medical student, Joe, a gambler, Gibbis, an alien, and Howie, a nerd in his late twenties who lives with his parents. The Doctor eventually realizes that the hotel captures people of ‘great faith’, and a creature lives off their faith by first ‘relocating’ their faith to itself by terrifying them with their worst fear. In their dying moments, the victims lose their personality, worship the creature, and continually utter the words ‘praise him’. The victims lose their faith to the creature, and in doing so, they lose their souls, too.
At one point in the episode, the Doctor says something remarkable about why the hotel is desensitizing its victims by exposing them to their worst nightmare:

It’s not fear. It’s faith. Not just religious faith, but faith in something. Howie believed in conspiracies, that external forces controlled the world. Joe had dice cufflinks and a chain with a horseshoe—he was a gambler. Gamblers believe in luck. They [Rita, Howie, Joe, and Gibbis] all believe there’s something guiding them, about to save them. That’s what it [the creature] replaces. Every time someone was confronted with their most primal fear they fell back on their most fundamental faith…[Amy’s] faith in me is what brought us [the Doctor, Amy, and Rory] here.
           
            There is one phrase in this spiel that stands out with a pale haze of white light hovering around it:
            “Not just religious faith, but faith in something.”
***
            In Life of Pi, Pi, the main character, finds out that his biology teacher, Mr. Kumar, is an atheist. Mr. Kumar states proudly to Pi, “I don’t believe in religion. Religion is darkness.” He then states later that he “believes in the virtues of science.”
            At the age of six, Mr. Kumar fell sick and had lain in bed for six months. Those six months were “the worst days of [his] life. He eventually recovered, but at the “price of his faith”. He firmly believed that “medicine had saved [him], not God”.
            Atheists may not believe in God, but that doesn’t mean they do not believe in anything. Mr. Kumar did not believe in God; he believed in science. As Pi says later in the chapter, “Atheists are my brothers and sisters of a different faith, and every word they speak, speaks of faith.”
            There are innumerable types of faith. Yes, there is faith in God (or gods), but there is also faith in a loved one, in science, in luck, even in the most arbitrary fascinations imaginable. Rita had faith in Islam, Amy had faith in the Doctor, Mr. Kumar had faith in science, Joe had faith in luck, and Howie had faith in government conspiracies.
            One may live without religion, but that doesn’t mean one lives without faith.


Sources:
The Wikipedia summary of “The God Complex”

Digital Spy review of “The God Complex”

“The God Complex” Quotes

The Shmoop page for Life of Pi

“The God Complex” Preview Clip #2

Friday, September 28, 2012

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words (well, at least 200)


Writing Exercise #1

There's a writing exercise I've always thought was useful:

If you have trouble with word choice or writing descriptively, this is the perfect activity for you. 
1) Find a picture that's meaningful to you (not one of a bee or a butterfly or a box or a cat, something with meaning, that you have to figure out) 
2) Get a pencil and a piece of paper (or your computer). 
3) Describe that picture as well as you can. 

Since number 3 is kind of boring, I've added a twist to the rules (yes I know, I'm a rebel) 

4) Pretend you're a book character, stuck within that picture. Is the picture sad, solemn, happy, spontaneous? Talk from that character's perspective. 

So I'm going to give you an example. I'm going to pretend I'm a hidden character, watching the girl on the steps (if you know where this picture is from, I do too--fish fingers and custard, guys, fish fingers and custard): 

Vacuum 

The dim yellow light flows down the staircase, over her, over the aging carpet, filling the dying room. Her hands are clasped together, hoping.
Hoping for what? I don't know, I don't know. 
She merges with the room, halfway in, halfway out, dying but alive. The blue box, nestled in the corner of the room, it speaks light; it speaks life. 

But what kind of life? Life squeezed and pinched into a science; life where we wonder about how instead of why? A life where science and faith will never unite, and we humans will, no matter what, force them to unite, we will, we must. 
But forever fail. And humans, exasperated, will eliminate faith altogether. 

The light from that box; it's too pure, it's too sweet. 
It's not real. 

Papers scattered, papers scattered. 
I'm not put together. I'm there; I'm not in the right order, though. 

Is a life like that worth it?
A life where we don't know? The pain of love and uncertainty and doubt and melancholy gone, gone forever? But we're left with emptiness instead.  
Is that why she's in between?
Halfway between a meaningless life, and an uncertain death?
Which to choose?
Which to choose...