Tosca v Národním divadle

Je jistě otázkou, jaký má smysl psát recenzi na představení, když jediná repríza, která ještě bude, je derniéra, ale třeba někdy udělají obnovenou premiéru nebo tak.

Tak tedy Tosca. Celkově jsem byla dost nadšená. Všem to – nakolik jsem byla schopná posoudit – zpívalo báječně (měla jsem tu čest s dokonalou Anda-Louise Bogza jako Toscou a taktéž velmi dobrým Tomášem Černým jako Cavadarossim). Pokud jde o inscenaci, byla pro mě naprosto perfektní kombinací klasiky s originálními nápady - například živá Madonna či andělé se mi vážně líbili. Tohle je samozřejmě otázka individuálního vkusu, ale pro mě tady byl skutečně v podstatě ztělesněný ideál. Výtky mám vlastně jen takové velmi drobné – například mi přišlo, že byla škoda celé první dějství zavřít do onoho malého vyvýšeného „pokoje“, a naopak že ta část posledního dějství, která se odehrává v Cavadarossiho vězeňské cele, tam klidně být mohla a bylo by to působilo dost dobře.

V horní části obrázku vidíte onen malý vyvýšený pokoj.

A protože jsem trapný realista, přišlo mi hloupé, že se stále popisuje Tosca jako temná kráska, ale pěvkyně má jasně zrzavé vlasy. A pak ještě taková praktická výtka: chápu, že diváci na druhé galerii nejsou asi těmi úplně prvními, na koho se při tvorbě inscenace myslí, ale přece jenom...nevidět ani smrt Cavadarossiho, ani Toscy, protože mi výhled na ně zakrývá panel s titulky, bylo poněkud nešťastné.

9/10.

P.S.: Autoři inscenace zvolili jako motto citát "finche congiunti alle celesti sfere dileguerem". Kdybych ho vybírala já, volila bych jinak. Konkrétně "Questo è il bacio di Tosca! ... Muori dannato! Muori, Muori!"

Jesus Christ Superstar v Hudebním divadle Karlín

Je zajímavé, čím vším může mít člověk zkažen zážitek z představení – i věcmi, které se zdají být vyloženě chvályhodné. Tak například anglické titulky. Obecně vzato je to jistě dobrá věc, ale když dáte k české verzi Jesuse originální titulky, zas tak fajn to není. I když mě český překlad místy rozčiluje, normálně to nijak zvlášť neprožívám. Když má člověk ale přímo před očima tenrozdíl – samozřejmě vždy v neprospěch českého textu – prostě to zážitek trochu kazí.

Jsou ovšem samozřejmě i horší věci, které kazí zážitek. Například nefunkční mikrofony. Konkrétně v představení, které jsem viděla já, nefungoval mikrofon Kaifášovi v podstatě během celé první písně velerady, takže ho nebylo slyšet (a občas se do toho ještě ozvalo takové to pískání zlobících repráků).

Čímž se dostávám asi tak k nejdůležitější věci, která člověku dokáže zkazit zážitek z představení: Kaifášova (Radek Seidl) nefunkčního mikrofonu je vážně škoda, protože byl z celé velerady jediný, kdo uměl jakž takž zpívat. Annáš (Jindřich Vobořil), naproti tomu, byl naprosto tragický. A to upozorňuji, že v podstatě nedisponuji hudebním sluchem, takže když já poznám, že někdo zpívá špatně, tak už je to fakt zlé (ale zase to není tak, že by to byl můj klamný dojem, potvrzeno i ostatními členy divadelní výpravy). A zbylí dva členové velerady nebyli o nic lepší. On i ten Kaifáš byl jednooký mezi slepými, jeho „on je záludný“ rozhodně adekvátně nevyznělo.

Abych ale nebyla pořád jen tak negativní, jsou i věci, které člověku dokážou zážitek dost vylepšit – dokonce tak, že má dojem, že cesta na představení stála zato jen kvůli nim (a že tam moc jiných důvodů nebylo). Tímto důvodem byl naprosto fantastický Herodes (Ondřej Brzobohatý), který jednak osobně zpíval a hrál geniálně, a druhak měla celá jeho scéna fantastickou choreografii.

Pochvalu zaslouží i Václav Noid Bárta jako Jidáš, ačkoliv by u té jedničky, na rozdíl od Brzobohatého, neměl hvězdičku. Osobně moc nemusím Střihavku, resp. mi sedí spíš do drsnějších rolí než je Ježíš, takže mě tady zvlášť neoslnil. Ale to je asi víc věcí vkusu, stejně jako to, že nemusím Basikovou, nebo že mi nepadla do noty celková podoba inscenace. Zkrátka mám Jesuse raději moderněji pojatého, v rádoby dobových kostýmech mi muzikálové tanečky připadají trapně absurdní. Asi nějaký psychický blok nebo co. Nicméně abych dokončila výčet postav, z Piláta (Pavel Polák) i Petra (Jiří Mach) jsem měla neutrální pocity, ale koho ještě oceňuji, je Šimon Zélótes (Jaromír Holub), ten byl báječný.

Kromě traumatizující velerady a technických potíží asi nenaleznu nic, co bych cítila potřebu přímo ztrhat, ale taky kromě Heroda nic, co by mě nadchlo. Dokonce i vrcholná píseň "Jesus Christ Superstar" mi přišlo, že postrádala šťávu, a to je smutné.

Třešničkou na dortu, kterou nám ale Hudební divadlo Karlín naservírovalo už na začátku, byla pak upoutávka na Noc na Karlštějně. Myslela bych si, že do trailerů se dávají ty nejlepší kousky, ale pokud to tak skutečně jak, tak teda nazdar hodiny. Kdypak tetřevi hon s lovci prohrají (Vydra jako král Petr, vévodu Štěpána jsem nepoznala) bylo tak strašlivým zážitkem, že jsem zvažovala, jestli neopustit divadlo okamžitě.

Celkově 6/10, ale tak polovina těch bodů je za Heroda.

P.S.: Celou dobu se mi hrozně nabízelo srovnání s brněnským Jesusem...vyhrává na celé čáře.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1

The thing we've all been waiting for is here. Well, the first part of it, anyway. How does a Harry Potter fan feel when even the film version of his favourite book series is coming to its end? Not very well, I can tell you that much. But it's not because I am nostalgic or anything. No, it's entirely the director's fault – well, maybe the screenwriters and some of the actors are to blame a bit, too. But anyway, let me go through the film and point out what I didn't like...okay, and what I liked, but there isn't much of the latter.

The part I perhaps liked best of the entire film was Hermione wiping her parents' memories. It was very emotional, from my point of view. Harry and the cupboard was rather nice, too. Even the Death Eater meeting was good – Lucius looked properly devastated, Draco properly afraid, Voldie-poo properly demonic...but. Narcissa is still as terrible as ever, and I still dislike Helena's way of playing Bellatrix enormously. Severus was great, of course, although he wasn't as sexy as I expected him to be for some reason (maybe watching somebody getting eaten by a huge snake damages your sex-appeal somehow).

Seven Potters were funny - and all the half-naked Daniels, squee! - but why mention Tonks being married to Remus if the relationship was absent from the Half-Blood Prince film, I have no idea. Or why put Bill in. The talk to Muriel and Death Eater attack could have happened at Harry's birthday party, instead of introducing, as sort of deus ex machina, a new character and one that wasn't mentioned since film 4. And, mind you, I think the beginning – up till this moment - was the best of the entire film. Now the trouble starts.

As for Harry attacking Voldie, there was no mention of the mystery of Harry's hand moving of its own accord, but it still was depicted like that, resulting, probably, in a very confused viewer-who hasn't-read-the-book. It would have been better if they had omitted it completely. Hedwig giving him away, on the other hand, was a very nice and clever idea, since „Expelliarmus“ wouldn’t probably make sense to most people. Connected to it, however, is the first thing in this film that doesn't work emotionally. Hedwig's death. One almost doesn't notice, let alone feel sad. It's quite a big issue for me, but fine, moving on. I wouldn't have expected to see a car race in a HP movie, but oh well. Harry arrives, there's some tension with Ginny which makes no sense since thy never bloody dated (you can tell I'm still angry about that, can't you?), George's ear – or lack thereof – is shown (very well done, by the way), somebody mentions Moody died and then they go to sleep. That's the second thing that doesn't work emotionally: Moody's death. I wasn't the least bit bothered. Where's the glory of the fallen warrior? Where's the firewhiskey drinking? Nothing is left of that...Moody deserved more.

Harry's attempted escape didn't bother me, it was a nice summing up of his ongoing doubts about Hermione and Ron going with him. However, Ginny appearing out of nowhere and kissing Harry, looking like a complete slut, bothered me a lot. Let me repeat myself: they never blood dated. Wedding was fine, only the author of he script proved to have the same problem the author of one of the film versions of Persuasion had – they recognize a good line, but don't realize that it needs the same context to stay good. Ron saying „always the tone of surprise“ to Hermione's appreciation of his duelling made sense. Hermione saying „always the tone of surprise“ to Ron commenting she was brilliant made no sense at all. He wouldn't be surprised she was brilliant. He's known that for six years already.

Then it got slightly better: the scene in the café was good, Mundungus was great. It bothered me a bit that Kreatcher didn't go through the change of heart, but I understand there wasn't enough time. Introducing Dobby back in the picture in this way was rather elegant, I liked it. Ministry was very nice – the WWII references were strong, but not overly strong, and it worked just fine. Rather a big flaw in the otherwise very good Ministry scene was that Harry left Moody's eye in the door. I'd understand if they left it out completely, but once they decided to include it – well, why the hell do it, if Harry leaves it there? Also, WTF to the absence of the Invisibility Cloak. I mean, didn't it occur to Hermione that Harry might need it? Did she find it irrelevant, or what? I mean, the first movie in which the Hallows are mentioned, and they decide to omit the cloak? Sense...these people make none. But to get back on track, I missed freeing the set of Muggle-borns, but once again, I understand there was no time, and Mrs. Cattemrole had to represent the lot. I don't even mind the little added drama. Hermione's bloodied hands were wonderful. And that's the end of wonderful for quite some time.

Ron started to get angry way too soon for my liking (and generally, they didn't wander in the wild long enough to make the proper desperate impression), and had way too much reason for it, but his actual departure was almost good. The Harry/Hermione dance was supposed to be what – the sum of Ron's fears? I mean, „We’re so happy you left that we could dance“? Not that the mechanism the screenwriter tried to produce was psychologically impossible, but ti was a different psychology than in the book, creating different dynamics, and I'm not sure whether it works. And it gives Ron no merit. JKR says that Ron, by his sense of humour, was keeping the team together, and that they were depressive without him. Here, they seem to have more fun when he's not there.

Godric's Hollow was nice, but I was surprised by the lack of Voldemort. I'm unsure about Harry audibly speaking Parseltongue – it tells the viewer too soon that something's off.

Ron's return was good, even with the little bit of added drama, but Hermione's reaction was way too tame. The actor who played Xenophilius was good – and, as weird as that sounds, rather sexy – but I find it really disturbing that Harry apparently left him to be killed by Death Eaters. I mean, once the DEs realized there was no Potter present, what do you think they would do? And by the way, the DE attack was really professional – there might be Harry Potter present, what shall we do? Oh, I know! Let's fly through the house a couple of times first, so that we give him enough time to escape.

This is immediately followed by the biggest logical problem of this film (which, of course, can be found in the book, too, but somehow, it’s not so obvious there): the Snatchers. There was plenty of time for Harry and Hermione to Disapparate. If she Apparated them instead of using the stinging jinx, she would have gotten away just fine. True, Ron was already captured, but his chances were much better without the two of them, and he'd already escaped once anyway. So, this is a really gaping hole.

Malfoy Manor was rather good, including Draco's reluctance and Lucius' eagerness (although – he didn't call Voldemort? So he's not going to know? And what with Bella's house arrest, then?), but not really emotionally strong, with the exception of Hermione's torture. That looked properly painful, even though the little „mudblood“ inscription didn't quite do it justice...wasn't there any Crucio involved? Plus, I really hate how Helena plays Bellatrix, I can't help it. Also, there was no mention of a sword replica. That only means it doesn't make sense to the eccentric people who haven't read the book and went to see the film, but there's one worse failure to mention something – Bella's not in hysterics about „what else they've stolen from the vault“, so how the hell is the Trio going to figure out they have to rob it?

But Dobby's death was well done, just about the only thing that worked emotionally in this film. And, the final scene was sort of impressive.

The atmosphere was nice, the visual was nice, music was probably ncie too (I didn't really notice it), but, as a whole, it just doesn't work. It looked really good in the trailers, so I must say I'm sorely disappointed. I really hope that, since they left only the last 24 hours plus the epilogue to the last film, it's going to make up for this one.

5/10

What Can We Learn From Hatshepsut Today or Why Don't I Wear Trousers

It's hot. A group of western tourists stands by the Hatshepsut's obelisk in the Karnak Temple, sweating. Their guide stands in front of them, explaining the circumstances of that particular queen. „And she had to dress like a man to be able to rule Egypt,“ she says, „and pretend she's not a woman at all.“ One of the female tourists shakes her head. How barbaric! It's great that we've left such things behind us, and the world nowadays is one of equal opportunities. She nods her head and moves to a shadow, in her trainers, jeans, T-shirt and a baseball cap to protect her against the sun.

Am I saying that we haven't actually moved forward at all since Hatshepsut's times? No. We've gone a very long way. But there are some things that are still the same, or very similar. Dressing as a man when a woman wants to be successful is one of them. I'll go for another holiday memory. This year in Oxford, I met a secondary school trip, complete in their uniforms, and the girl version made me stare. They were wearing shirts and ties, of course (as male as it gets), and skirts. Actually, rather short skirts, way above their knees. It just seemed to me to be a sum of all gender problems with clothing. From my point of view, the idea behind this uniform is simple: if you want to be educated – a traditionally male thing to do – you have to pretend you are a man, and thus the shirts and ties. But at the same time, since we, men, are around, it being a co-educated school, you should provide us with a good view of your legs, to remind us you still are a woman and thus primarily a sexual object. Therefore, show your thighs! Of course, I would never accuse anyone of actually thinking these thoughts, but I really do see it behind the clothes, on the unconscious level.

Or take the business dress for women. It's basically the same thing, minus the tie, plus the jacket, so it equals out. The emancipations proceeds, leading slowly to repression of the second aspect in favour of the first – to pantsuits.

But is that the way emancipation should actually be taking? From having to expose our womanhood to be sexually available, to hiding it and pretending we aren't actually women at all? It's up to everyone to decide. I, personally, don't think so.

Of course, it's not really that easy to tell what is female and what is male fashion. Heels, for example, started out as a male thing. But trousers, jackets and, to an extent, shirts, began to be worn by women after the feminist movement first appeared, and are connected to it. I certainly don't think it was wrong. Women can hardly be equal to men if they don't have the right to wear trousers, since there are some things which can't be done properly in a skirt. But once we've secured that right, I can't help feeling we should go further and be able to maintain a position of power or respect dressed in a skirt.

I've discussed this with some of my friends – yes, I know that's not a very good sample as far as statistic goes, but this is a blog post, not a peer-reviewed article – and they admit that when they want to be taken seriously, they wear trousers, no cleavage and generally dress as asexually as they can. Well, I refuse to accept this. I refuse to play this game. I want to be respected as a woman with everything it entails, not as almost-a-man. That is the reason why I don't wear trousers at all.

As usual, there as some PS:

I don't mind anyone wearing miniskirts, or trousers. What I see as a problem is when it becomes part of a uniform, forcing someone – anyone – to act that way. Especially when the miniskirts are concerned: miniskirt in itself is not „exposing our womanhood to be sexually available,“ but it becomes exactly that when someone is forced to wear it. That is a problem if it's not actually part of a job - obviously, a prostitute has a different dress code than a schoolgirl, or at least should have.

And also, I don't look down on any women wearing trousers. Not at all. The introductory literary image is just that, a literary image. The whole trousers thing is only my personal way of making a statement.

What’s Wrong With Being Stupid?

They say we have a cult of the body nowadays. That there’s an enormous pressure on people to look well, have the right sort of figure, the right hair... I’m not saying there isn’t. But when I look at the ads in the Prague metro, there’s just one that has something to do with the body and uncountable ads for higher education, language courses and so on. So what is the pressure really on?

Everybody has to have a degree nowadays. I’m not saying anything new here. I’m not by far the only one who thinks we need less people with a degree, not more. But still, I can’t help wondering.

We’re trying to ignore the fact that there are differences in intelligence, differences which are determined, for a great part, genetically. We’re pretending that the more people with a degree, the cleverer the population. That, of course, is an illusion, and it’s a well-known fact that by this, the level of higher education is actually decreasing. But what am I concerned about at the moment is that even in spite of this, there are still going to be people out there who just can’t do it. Who can’t get a degree. What are they going to do with themselves? There are less and less jobs for them, since everybody wants to see at least a BA after your name if they are to take you seriously. It might be that in the near future, the only job you’ll be able to apply for without a degree will be that of a “restroom manager”. Of course, we’re not quite there yet, but I do feel we’re going that way.

But what’s wrong with being stupid, really? Of course, you can’t do some jobs – but not that many, really – and it makes it difficult for the clever people to talk to you. But then again, being clever makes it difficult for stupid people to talk to you. So really, the only problem is when people too far away on the spectre meet. It’s the same as being ugly – there’s nothing wrong with it, really (and both are pretty relative terms anyway, albeit not completely), but people still consider it an insult to say it about someone. Because the society values both very high. Only, we know already it’s not nice to treat someone badly because he or she is not exactly pretty, but in the brains department, we seem to be rather behind. Of course we’re kind to people who are officially “mentally challenged”, but short of that, we take no pity on stupidity.

To tackle it from another angle: I can’t sing or draw to save my life, and the PE classes were the nightmare of my life. I severely lack talent in those departments. Fortunately for me, none of this is really important nowadays. I don’t want to know what I would end up like in Austen’s times, since I couldn’t sing, play pianoforte or draw. By pure luck, I was born in times when it doesn’t matter. My merit in being tolerably clever is about as big as in being impossible in sports, but we live in society which decided to appreciate beauty and intelligence or rather, education - and regards the other gifts of God/Nature (delete as applicable) as less valuable. What I aim at with this blog post is simply that we should realize the arbitrariness of this choice, and, to put it simply, not to look down on people who are a bit silly, just as we don’t look down on people because they’re not exactly pretty. And yes, I’ll try to follow my own advice.

(You might object that it is simply insufferable to read this from someone who so obviously thinks he belongs to the cleverer half. In a way, it is true. I do think I’m in the cleverer 50%, so to speak. But there are many people who are cleverer than me, in some ways or in general. And I don’t see a problem in that. There are plenty of things in the intellectual sphere I wouldn’t be able to do, plenty of things I can’t comprehend. Sometimes I regret it, mainly because of the aforementioned communication issue. I’d like to understand the things that interest people around me, and I often can’t. But I certainly don’t think I have less value as a person because I can’t for the life of me understand quantum physics. )

On Friendship or The Most Arrogant Blog Post Ever Written

(This article assumes that I’m tolerably clever and tolerably good-looking. You don’t have to agree with either. In that case, please, imagine someone else in my place, who fulfils both criteria.)

It all started when I was thinking about what to wear for a night out with a friend, when my conscience woke up and said: Oh, come on, isn’t this beneath you? I was just about to reply that yeah, sure, whatever, and start thinking about Hypatia or something, when I stopped and said to myself: wait, but why?

Why should I actually want my friends to like me rather for my brains that for my looks? Why should it be more right for them to? Both are my merit to about the same extent, which is to say, not at all. There might be some credit in what I know, however little that is, since it does require some strength of will to actually study, but seeing that most of the job is done by my good memory, love for reading and interest in things which, again, are not my merit at all, overly, that isn’t much to be proud of either. The only thing I could actually say is something for which people should like me are my possible moral virtues, and that’s not what I originally had in mind (and besides, I wouldn’t have many friends left if it was all about that).

There’s one situation in which my friends should like me for my brains: when they say they do. That is to say, if someone asked me to a pub on the pretext of wanting to talk to me, and hear my opinions on things, but really what he was after would be just staring into my cleavage, then I think I’d have every right to feel cheated. Just as girl who met a guy in a bar and got asked into his apartment would if it turned out he mainly wanted to talk about world politics.

(But I do appreciate this is not easy. Imagine, again, a person in a bar. A potential partner sits next to them and starts working on them. The person starts talking about world politics. What gives the potential partner bigger chances of having sex, listening patiently, nodding and pretending to be interested, or saying “let’s not talk about that, I want to kiss you”? Well if they’re really attractive, nr. 2 might work, too, but most people would still bet on nr. 1. And for a reason, too. Many people like being lied to. But it still is a lie).

But this is clearly not the case I was considering at the beginning, since if I dress to impress, I obviously do count on people liking me for my looks, at least as one of the reasons. It was rather the question of this not being right. Why, then, should my friends like me for my brains? Or let’s turn the question around: why should I like my friends? (I mean to say, “what is the right reason”, not “why the hell should I do a thing like that”.) I don’t attempt to deny that brains are one of the main reasons for being friends with someone. I usually want to talk to my friends, talk about interesting things, and for that, brains are necessary. But there isn’t anything praiseworthy about that. It’s simply a better amusement for me when my friends are clever. True, I don’t recall any friends I would have just for the sake of their good looks. The thing is, I don’t know anybody from my acquaintance who would be handsome enough for this to be worth the trouble (sorry, guys). But you can bet that if I had a Monica Bellucci doppelganger among my acquaintance, I would be capable of spending hours with her (just *looking* at her. Don’t get any ideas), and she wouldn’t have to be clever at all, although it would be a nice bonus, of course. Why should aesthetical pleasure be inferior to the intellectual one?

And of course, cleverness and looks are not the only aspect. You might want to hang around with a person because, on the “spirit” side, you like their sense of humour or they are good listeners, or on the “matter” side, you like the way they dress, their manners, and so on.

But all this isn’t really friendship, is it? It’s all about deriving some sort of pleasure from the contact. Not that friendship should be some kind of torment, but if this was all, friendship would be a pretty selfish thing. So what is the point?

Well the way I see it, the real friendship part starts when it’s not mainly about the intellectual or aesthetical pleasure, or fun, or anything of the sorts, but about the other person as such. Of course all the aforementioned things are still a part of the package, but the main focus is the person. I think it always starts with some form of pleasure – we can hardly pick a person at random and decide that this is going to be our friend, there has to be some kind of stimulus, a reason behind it – but if it’s friendship, the interest in person as such should follow.

From this perspective, it doesn’t really matter at all whether the friend in question likes me for my looks of for my brains. I hope he likes me simply for myself, which includes both and somehow transcends it (well, I hope so), but if he doesn’t – yet – then it’s perfectly indifferent whether he’s concentrating at the body or at the mind. Only maybe some would say that it’s easier to go to liking the person from liking the mind. It might well be, body in general is probably prone to objectification. But on the other hand, I try as hard as I can to project my personality on the outside things, on my body, so maybe it isn’t that bad after all.

Kantian post scriptum: It seems that the person stuff is just a repetition of the good old “treat others never merely as a means to an end, but always at the same time as an end“, but I do think there’s a difference. As much as I don’t see shopkeepers just as machines doing their work, nevertheless I don’t interact with them mainly because of them personally, but because I want to get some profit out of it, that is to say, buy something.

Gender post scriptum: I don’t deny that taking into account somebody’s looks when applying for a manager position would be a discrimination and sexism and just plain wrong. But exactly in the same way, it would be wrong to take into account somebody’s brains when casting for a model. Not that every model has to be stupid. He simply doesn’t have to be clever, and taking his IQ into consideration would be exactly the same sort of discrimination as hiring the man with the nicest butt for the manager position.

The Internet People

It is a truth universally acknowledged that Facebook is a waste of time. Indeed, it seems to be so widely accepted that no one dares to doubt it any more. I’m not going to completely deny such an obvious truth. For that, I’ve spend too much time during which I was supposed to be studying by dully refreshing the homepage, waiting for something to happen, or by nonsensical quizzes and even more nonsensical Facebook games. However, I do, as usual, have certain objections.

The topic is so widely popular that it actually even made its way to our church. There was a visiting priest a couple of weeks back, who went through how addictive Facebook was (which it is, there’s no denying that) in the sermon. He went on, describing how a lady told him she “has to log in because people are writing to her”, and how he explained that she doesn’t have to, and that if she stops replying, people will stop writing, eventually.

That was the moment when I said to myself: “Wait, what?”

Because, really, did he realize it was her friends he was talking about? Would he say, for example, “well if you stop calling them and seeing them, your mates will stop bothering you after some time”? I don’t believe he would. But then, where’s the difference?

Everybody keeps talking about how people are aggressive in the internet discussions because they feel safe, protected by the anonymity, that they know (or think) nothing can happen to them. But it works the other way round, too. Many people seem to think that their partners in internet discussions are somehow less real than people they meet in a pub somewhere. That it is not really their friend or schoolmate they’re talking to, but some strange kind oh his shadowy alter-ego.

Now, I’m not denying that internet communication has less value than the personal one. But still, I don’t think anyone would complain if somebody communicated with a friend via good old written letters. It would seem so very romantic and personal and beyond reproach. But the only difference actually is that the letters take longer to get to the recipient, making them less accurate, since at the moment when he reads them, they might not represent the author’s state of mind any more. Oh, and they are harder to read, too (well, at least mine are. No one who has ever seen my handwriting would ask me to write him a letter.) I do understand how it is more romantic than an email, but please, let’s not pretend it’s a more valuable form of communication.

So what is it about internet communication that makes the people who wouldn’t object to letters complain? Is it a form of technophobia? Perhaps. In case of elder people, it could be explained as a somewhat natural mistrust of new things. But I can’t help the feeling that even in my age group, the internet communication is sneered upon as something inferior. For some people, it seems to be the unpleasant thing everybody is doing, but they are all ashamed for it. At least among the “intellectuals”, most seem to pretend they don’t really enjoy Facebook and they have joined it just because everybody else is there (“I just needed to communicate and some people weren’t available anywhere else”). And I cannot help to wonder why.

With the intellectuals, it can also be a form of a pathological counterculturness (well, pathological in my opinion, of course), which I find even funnier than technophobia. But notwithstanding the pose of the person in question, I think everybody should have in mind that their friends are still the same friends when communicated with via the internet, and that degrading Facebook as a complete waste of time is, in a way, degrading the people they have on their friend list. As far as it is used to communicate, indeed, I do not regard Facebook as a waste of time in the slightest.

On Moderation

(Yes, I know that sounds like something Aristotle would write. I was actually considering making the address of this thing meden-agan.blogspot.com, but it was already taken - apparently, I’m not the only weird person out there. So I made it a motto, at least. And I think starting out with an article like this is quite thematic.)

Everybody is talking about Israel these days, so it’ll look like I’m just swimming with the stream if I start this entry by talking about it, too. But it *was* this cause what inspired me to write this, even though it’s only distantly related.

It seems the whole of politically aware world is divided in two groups, pro-Israel and anti-Israel. You might say that it’s natural, on any topic, there will always be contrary opinions, and therefore groups of people who disagree with each other. But is this really a tertium non datur situation? On one hand, it would seem so. There’s Israel and there’s Palestine, and either you support one, or you support the other. On the other hand, your position can be – should be – more sophisticated than just this. Reducing it to the aforementioned principle means turning the whole thing into an ideological problem (I can perfectly understand why Israel and/or Palestine would be doing this, but I don’t quite get why supposedly unbiased onlookers should be), and making yourself a fanatic.

I see pro-Israel people claiming that there’s no humanitarian crisis in Palestine – probably believing that all the pictures are just from some sort of inversed Potemkin village – and reducing all Palestinians to crazy terrorists. I see pro-Palestine people declaring Israel to be blood-thirsty and lying bastards without any problems of their own, just bullying the weak Palestine. And I have to ask myself: is it really so difficult to see both sides of the story? Of course one might stay mostly pro-Israel or pro-Palestine (because being moderate, naturally, doesn't mean always standing exactly in the middle, or worse, having no opinion at all). But that doesn’t mean the former can’t see the mistakes they’re doing, the injustice and cruelty, does it? And the pro-Palestinian can still see the permanent danger Israel is in and the constant pressure, and understand the fear to show any kind of weakness, can’t he?

And of course, this is just one of many examples where this black-and-white mentality shows. Our recent elections were another example, and we don’t even have a two-party system – I don’t want to imagine what it must be like in the US (I’ve seen enough of it online to get the picture). People seem to think that as a rightist, one has to have the right (pun intended) opinion on everything, and vice versa. And what’s worse, that one has to consider the other opinion pure evil. But by accepting this stance, we stop being ourselves – unique, irreplaceable individuals – and reduce ourselves just to a representative of an opinion. And these are always expendables, never important.

Why even do it? Why take some of our positions – or all – and push them to the extreme? Is it because it’s simpler? To just decide between the two options – left/right, Israel/Palestine – and then act accordingly, and not to think about the nuances and particulars any more? Probably. Or we can make it even more simple and accept a whole set of opinions – I’ll be a liberal leftist, that means I’m pro-Palestine, I love Obama and I want same-sex marriage and abortion – and give up our individuality completely.

I’m talking about the death of an individual in such an approach, but there’s another problem. This attitude means reducing ourselves to fundamentalists and on principle excludes any rational discussion. Because we don’t really have an opinion on a particular situation, based on some particular rational facts, our belief just derives from “well, I’m pro-Israel, so I’ll think this way about it”. Which, of course, can hardly be disputed.

Now I know all this may sound a bit strange coming from a Catholic. You might say, but doesn’t the church mean exactly this? Accepting a set of beliefs just based on an authority, without examining them individually? Well, again, yes and no. First and foremost, my “second problem” doesn’t apply to this. It is faith we’re talking about. Of course it’s not up to rational discussion. That is not to say it goes directly against reason, but it’s not like any other opinion you hold, it’s not based on rational grounds and isn’t meant to. So in this way, it is indeed similar to the thing I’m discussing – and that’s why they talk about ideologies as pseudo-religious phenomena – but in this case, it’s not a problem. (If anyone desires to know why, let me know and I might write something about it some day, this is not the time and place.)

But what about the first problem? Doesn’t one loose one’s individuality when joining the church? Well some do, to be sure. The behavior I described can certainly be observed in the church, just as anywhere else. But one shouldn’t. Our dogmatic theology teacher likes to quote Chesterton to us (I can’t find the exact quote, but he said it like this): “Upon entering a temple, I remove my hat, but my head stays on my neck.” Each and every article of faith should be, in my opinion, carefully scrutinized by a believer to find out whether it’s acceptable for him. The role of the church as an authority is to present him with the things to scrutinize. It’s not about me wondering whether I would think of that on my own. I trust the church that much. It’s just to find out whether there isn’t any problem – in my reason or in my conscience – with the presented article of faith. Certainly, you may say that so far as we don’t look for the articles of faith ourselves, but let it be presented to us by the church, we loose our individuality. It is certainly a reasonable opinion, though I don’t agree. The way I see it, by accepting an authority – any authority – in this way, one becomes part of something bigger without loosing one’s individuality. But I’m well aware that opinions on this may differ, and I believe both are equally defensible.

But back to moderation. Or is this about moderation at all? I mean, so far I’ve been talking mostly about ideological thinking. Well, I find both things closely connected. Theoretically, it is possible to accept a moderate view in such a way, without any rational scrutiny. But somehow, it doesn’t happen, or at least very rarely. So is it really possible? The way I see it, moderate stance requires quite an amount of skepticism, constant thinking and reevaluating and never-ending rational scrutiny. As such, it’s in direct contradiction with what I’ve described above. However, I believe it is possible for someone to construct such a moderate view and then for other people to agree with him because, I don’t know, it’s cool at the moment. But these people wouldn’t continue in the intellectual effort that was put into it in the beginning, and thus what was originally moderate would soon turn extreme, too, for example by dogmatically maintaining the same opinions without considering what the opponents say. The position in itself would stay moderate (after all, that’s how most democratic parties work), but their approach to it as to something that is outside of them would be immoderate, because it wouldn’t be moderated by any rational evaluation.

And now to the other option: can someone arrive to being an extremist based on careful evaluation of the facts? Here, it is easier: I don’t believe so. Simply because the world is not black and white.

Somehow, this article, which was meant to be very moderate, seems to have turned into some sort of an ego-booster. Reading it, it feels like I’m trying to demonstrate my superiority over the dumb, ideological masses by showing how moderate and rational I am. So at the conclusion, I’d like to add two things. Firstly, that the necessity of rational scrutiny of everything doesn’t mean one can’t feel strongly about it. I even think it’s desirable – see the motto of this blog -, but in that, there *is* a conviction of the superiority of my way of doing things, so I’ll leave that out. What I want to say is that feelings are not inferior to reason. After all, it’s usually them who decide which side of the spectra we prefer (left or right, Israel or Palestine). The two just shouldn’t be mixed up. In my opinion, it’s not even like Plato’s painted it, the reason directing the feelings. I think it’s a circle, with the feeling directing the reason and the reason keeping the feelings in check. But that, too, would be a topic for an entire article.

And secondly, that I very often fail to live up to the ideal I’ve painted here. Yes, I do think I more or less manage to stick to it in the two cases I mentioned, but I’m sure I fail in many others. So, no arrogance here. Or at least, no that much.