Little Green Bastards. And Us.

I like the Jedi. Or at least, I like the Jedi characters we get to see. But that having been said, I have to further opine that on just how thoroughly, completely, and overwhelmingly evil the Jedi can be. Especially that little green fucker, Yoda: the height of arrogant, altruistic oppression, sneering all who opposes his designs, belittling them for the sin of loving and hating. Mace Windu is not far behind, but he's just egotistical-condecending, rather than pedantic-condescending. He gets a pass by dint of still having some human emotions, to say nothing of (and I'm SURE this is true) having "Bad Mother Fucker" engraved on his lightsaber.

I'm talking about the actual Jedi philosophies and teaching of the Jedi Knights; the teaching that Yoda perpetually spouts until you're just dying for somebody to force-lightning him. Talk about an uncompromising totalitarian mindset! Obey your master. Follow the Code. "Empty your mind of questions." "Teach yourself to let go of everything you hold dear." No feeling, except the Force. Sounds a lot like Confucian China in terms of requiring impassive obedience, except that it's much, much worse, since you're not even allowed to get upset about it! Anger leads to the Dark Side. Hate leads to the Dark Side. Love leads to the Dark Side. FEELING leads to the Dark Side. Hell, if Yoda were to have his way, the Universe would be populated by untinking, unfeeling automatons, going blissfully about their business, never a thought or a feeling to distract them from the perfect harmony of the Force. And any student of cultural dynamics could tell you the result: the loss of invention, initiative, art, science, and progress. In a perfectly harmonious society there is no dissent, but there is no progress. There is no innovation. There is no invention, because nothing is needed. No development of idea or ideals. No pain. No hate. No anger. No love. No hopes. No dreams. No aspiration. An entire universe, blissfully ignorant. Thank god that there are dissidents like Qui Gon and Kenobi smiling and nodding at Yoda's understanding of the force, but still doing whatever the hell they think they must, emotional detachment be damned. But as a whole, and as gushed by Yoda, the Jedi preach detachment as they do their best to bring a chaotic univers into line.

Of course, we don't have that problem.

Instead, we have a different problem. The endless strife and competition and ebb and flow of ideas and commerce and information we see on a daily basis is nearly as stagnating as the pervasive silence of a passive universe. Our minds and senses can only grasp so much at any given time. Once we surpass the threshold of information and stimulation that we can wrap our minds around, it all simply becomes white noise, before which we stand in stunned awe, largely incapable of thought or action. What is the difference between a uinverse that is silent, and one so loud that nothing can be herd. I've seen it a lot here in town. Bumpkins coming in from pretty much any place that's not Las Vegas. They see the lights, the glitz, the grandeur, and they stand openmouthed in awe. In all the noise, they can hear nothing. All you need to do is walk the stip, and you'll see them too. Blided by the neon, the beautiful girls, the clink of coins into the dishes of the slot machines, and the cheers from winners in the craps pits. They jump in with both feet. They can't help themselves; they're blinded by it all, and beyond rational thought. They might not even think, even if they were able to, so amazing is it.

No thought. No fear. Just a plunge.

But, much like the universe as a whole, the glitz and glory of Las Vegas are illusion. The reality beneath is that this town is a machine. If you have a vice, it will find it, and give it to you. You will enjoy every second of it, and bask in things of fantasy of delight. Until it comsumes you. Tourists arrive, and go straight into the City's gaping maw, at the Bellagio, the Mirage, Ceasars Palace. Days, weeks, or months later, those same people, having cashed their plane tickets and spent their life savings for one last run at the 21 tables, get shit out onto Industrial avenue, utterly broke. Many of them will beg a way home, others will stay and find jobs. But some don't go home. There is a reason that none of the windows open on the high-rise towers, but the determined will still find a way to be done in, either by their own doing, or by someone else's doing.

And none of them will ever remember how it happened. Where all the money went. How they arrived at the Tables at a little after noon, and still found themselves there noon the next day. Where did the time go. It disappeared into the sensory overload. The flash and the sounds and the girls and the glitz and the free drinks. They sat blissfully in a sea of chaos so pervasive as to overcome them. And they fact that they lost $50,000 was just lost in the white noise.

The universe is like Las Vegas. Wonderful, terrible chaos, offering us the greatest of treasures for the highest of prices. It's just covered by a varyingly thin veneer of glitz and illusion. Hell, the only reason we can face it at all is because, in addition to the relatively thin and gaudy illusion, the Machine itself is so vast and expansive that, by virture of sheer size and complexity, is laregly beyond our perception and understanding. We can venture out into the world, because we don't know (or don't believe) just how dangerous it is.

Which brings us back to the Jedi. The greatest redeeming thing that I can see in the Jedi (other than lightsabers, which are near the top of the all-time bad-assness list) is their ability to perceive the greatness of the Universe, to see the chaos behind the illusion, and still control their responses to the stimulus that must result. Their ability to feel, through the Force, things happening lightyears away, yet still be rational. Their perceptions are vastly beyond and superior to our own, and they must thus know the terrible wonder and danger, yet somehow, they retain the ability to not be dazzled or drowned by the sea of white noise. I admire them for that. But I still detest the mindless, loveless, stagnant utopia they embrace. Yoda's rationality and impartiality come at the cost of his soul. Men are not machines, and are not meant to be.
But it must be comforting for the Jedi, to be able to feel nothing, and be unafraid of and unaffected while at the same time seeing and comprehending the whirling maelstom of things and thoughts surrounding them.

Of course, we mere mortals have a different solution. Rather than sacrificing our humanity to see the Whole, unfeeling, through the Force, we narrow our horizons down to a level that we can encompass. We look at things and thoughts in our immediate vicinity, outside of which the Noise pervades, thankfully concealing - beneath the ever-present illusion - the wonders and horrors we can't or choose not to deal with. We adjust our lives to contain an amount of chaos that we can handle, and remain blissfully ignorant of the rest. And problems really only arise when something from the Noise comes into the spheres in which we live our lives. But within those spheres, we are comfortable; we can live our lives ignorant of the dangers and wonders that all run together in the white noise.

It's a defense mechanism. We can't be impassive, so we become ignorant. We put things out of our mind, and don't worry about them. We trust (or kid ourselves) that the rest of the universe, outside our perceptions, is running along smoothly, just as it always has, without any help or imput from us. Si non confectus, non reficiat. Things work out, if you let them. And the up side is that we retain hope and dreams. We delve the White Noise at the edges of our lives, looking at the fringes of our lives for things and people to improve our existence. We enjoy the wonderful diversity and unpredictability of the utter chaos of our universe, yet keep it confined to a scale that we are comfortable with.

Of course, given that our lives consist of comfort zones of varying degrees of size (and comfort), determined according to our own tastes, we are faced with dilemma of how large (and how comfortable) we choose to make those zones. Since we can't, as the Jedi do, purge our minds of our feelings for the sake of Broader Understanding (nor do I think we should) we must pick and choose how, and how large, to build the lives we live. Naturally, the larger the life, the more maintenance involved in enforcing localized order onto ther universal chaos. The universe is inherently entropic, and requires the imput of energy to bring order from chaos. And people differ in the amount of energy they have to put into world-building. Phobics and neurotics confine themselves to small places, because of the threat and fear of the chaos overwhelming them. Catatonics confine themselves within the space of their own minds, for the same reason. But most of us find a larger space, where we deal with a fairly impressive amount of chaos, while (hopefully) avoiding situations that might pose the possibility of overwhelming us.

I'm sure I'll have more to say about this, but I need a drink first.