Cpetruz1’s Weblog

The article discusses an ongoing online video debate about the existence of God and the validity of Christianity. It all began when Brian Flemming, a middle-aged scriptwriter and filmmaker in Los Angeles, posted a challenge online: anyone who created and uploaded a video on YouTube denying the existence of God would receive a free copy of a DVD documentary he created called “The God Who Wasn’t There”. Immediate controversy began, and Mike Mickey and Steve Buchanan created their own website, Challenge Blasphemy. Here, Christians and believers in God could upload videos discussing the existence of God and their belief in the values and theology behind Christianity. I think this whole situation brings up some very interesting questions on the value of freedom of speech in today’s society. The controversy between atheists and Christians is nothing new: they’re been battling it out for ages. The only difference is that now there is a new medium to hold the debates. However, I find myself torn on the existence of the videos. While I am a staunch believer in freedom of speech, I also find it rude and disrespectful to take what can be such a sacred and personal belief and completely tear it apart. Yes, the disbelief in religion is a belief in and of itself, but when Christians say anything bad about atheists, they are accused of being intolerant and self-righteous. Why is it okay to bash Christianity, but not okay to do the same with Islam and Judaism? There’s nothing wrong with sharing your opinions and beliefs, but I think a level of respect needs to always be maintained. There is a difference between sharing what you think and making unnecessary comments about what others believe. Yet, at the same time, I don’t think anything can be done about either of these videos as, like I said, we luckily have freedom of speech in this country. Therefore, I think the responsibility lies on the individual. Yes, share your beliefs with others via a confessional video, but try and be respectful of others at the same time. 

I’m not going to lie: while I understand the point Vesna is trying to make, especially throughout the first half of the article, the minute she starts to talk about molecular biology I’m completely lost. However, I do completely agree with her arguments regarding technology’s function in our daily lives: we’ve created such distinguished technology so that it could take care of simple daily tasks, freeing up our time to spend enjoying our lives more. However, in the process of doing so, we’ve become so dependent and obsessed with this technology that we utilize it even more frequently in our lives. Who needs to have face-to-face conversations when you can just email your co-worker across the office? I didn’t have a computer in my house until I was in middle school, and even after we got it, I only had one game for it, and didn’t even really enjoy playing it. I’m always flabbergasted by the technological abilities of children today. I’m pretty sure that most nine year olds are better with a computer than I am at the age of twenty. Only ten years ago, I grew up in a generation where kids met outside and played tag. Today, children don’t need to use their imaginations to the same extent, as technology takes care of that pesky step for them. I just find it amusing that something created to make our lives that much easier have made them that much more complicated. 

I’m fairly familiar with Emile Durkheim’s beliefs and arguments about the relationship between the sacred and the profane. Seeing as how he is so adamant that we live in a profane world and need to pass through to the world of sacred things, I find it really interesting that he argues that anything can be sacred. Durkheim claims the distinction between the sacred and the profane is absolute, yet at the same time argues that different things are sacred to different people, that “there are sacred things of every degree”. I think this gray area of the sacred is therefore confusing to individuals. According to Durkheim, the worlds of the sacred and the profane are “jealous rivals” of each other. However, if pretty much anything can be sacred, to varying levels, then couldn’t it be said that the sacred and profane are actually intricately involved as opposed to being each other’s rivals? Plus, Durkheim also counters that “the only manner of fully escaping the profane life is, after all, to forsake all life.” If the sacred and profane are such rivals of each other, then how is it possible that anything can be sacred, while apparently everything is profane?

After reading Eve’s article, I feel that I have somewhat of a better understanding of exactly how interactive fiction works. However, seeing as how I’m new to the whole concept, some of the technical concepts of interactive fiction are still a mystery to me. I consider myself the complete opposite of Eve’s concerns about religious digital fiction: while I know and understand different Christian stories and terms, I’m unclear on how exactly to maneuver the programming. It’s one thing to wrap your mind around what steps to take, and it just makes it that much more difficult if you lack understanding of the text and religious theories the game references. Plus, Eve also addresses the problem of conflicting personal involvement: what could come off as a game and challenge for one person may not affect another in the same way. I have to agree with this point. In this respect, interactive fiction functions the same as video games: the level of interest and involvement will change depending on the background and experience of the player. However, one of the most interesting concepts Eve addresses is that of predestination and free will in our society. With interactive fiction, the creator has control over the final results. The game can end the same regardless of choices, or personal decisions may actually matter: it’s all up to the discretion of the game’s creator. I think this creates a fascinating parallel between the fictional game world and our existence here on earth. In this sense, it appears as though the creator functions as God within the individual society-having ultimate control over the path we choose to take. Eve’s religious interactive fiction functions as a microcosm of Christianity in today’s society, taking our ideals and beliefs and analyzing them on a smaller scale. 

Eric Zimmerman tackles the concept of “game-story”, breaking it down into four specific concepts: narrative, interactivity, play, and games. He states that, while these are four distinguishable concepts, they still overlap in the establishment of game-story. Rather than trying to establish this relationship immediately, he takes the time to define each concept, setting boundaries for how each concept is categorized. Zimmerman first addresses the term narrative. Citing an essay by J. Hillis Miller, Zimmerman claims that a narrative is composed of three parts: an initial state that goes through a change, with an insight resulting from said change; a “personification of events through a medium such as language”; and representation that is “constituted by patterning and repetition”. If following this criteria, Zimmerman claims that even a game of chess can be considered narrative. Next, he addresses interactivity. Interactivity is defined as allowing a two-way flow of information between a user and device. However, Zimmerman finds flaw within this definition, as all forms of narrative can then also be defined as interactive; he feels it’s important to recognize the distinction between the interactivity level within narratives. The third term defined by Zimmerman is play. Play is a particularly difficult concept to define, as it is used in an array of contexts. Zimmerman establishes three situations in which to categorize play: the formal play of games, informal play, or being in a playful state of mind. As for the actual definition, play is “free space of movement within a more rigid structure”. Finally, Zimmerman looks at the definition of the term play. Some of the key aspects behind a game are that it’s voluntary and interactive, with one or more players following a set of rules that lead to a mock conflict and measurable outcome. Zimmerman emphasizes the importance of rules and guidelines within games and play, as they provide the structure necessary to experience the narrative. One of Zimmerman’s arguments that I find myself questioning is his application of narrative to particular video games. For example, he discusses the narrative function of the Ms. Pac-man video game. While there are various plot-like structures to create boundaries within the game, I also struggle to see how these elements actually create a story for the player to follow. Maybe I just haven’t played the game enough, but is there really a structural framework to the story, or  merely conflicts standing in the way of accomplishing your goal? Or is it the case that the conflicts actually serve as the narrative? While Zimmerman does set what he believes to be fairly clear boundaries on the definitions and applications of the terms, I agree with the response by Chris Crawford that perhaps Zimmerman just doesn’t go far enough in establishing his argument. 

In her article, Nancy Armstrong addresses two studies that present evidence negating the claim that congregations are slowly moving toward the “virtual technology church”; the studies were conducted by the Pew Charitable Trusts, as well as the Indianapolis Center for Congregations. The studies claim that churches are not carrying out their evangelical mission in a technological setting, but rather using such technology as a resource to help promote their ministry. The primary areas for such technological use are in administration and finance, communications, learning labs, and multimedia presentations used in the advancement of worship and education. As far as administration and finance are concerned, churches are now using technology to not only help keep track of payroll and offering collection, but also to notify the pastor of upcoming important dates (for example, the anniversary of the death of a parishioner). Communication is also an important aspect; churches are able to utilize the advantages of a connected internet network to bring the office workers in a particular church closer together. Plus, congregation members have quick and easy access to things such as an online prayer chain, further increasing the sense of community within the congregation. One of the main arguments for the technological advances within the church lies in the educational opportunity computers can provide as learning labs for the young and old. While underprivileged children have access to the lab to work on their homework, the older members of the church can receive lessons on how to work computer functions such as email, allowing them to maintain touch with younger family members. Armstrong’s last argument is that technology can serve as a tool in traditional church services and schooling. She claims that there is a huge advantage in being able to teach our children Bible stories with the help of visual aids to engage their attention. I personally agree with many of the arguments Armstrong makes. While I am not the biggest believer in virtual churches, I see nothing wrong with bringing the church into the 21st century with the rest of the free world. I feel that a balance can exist between technological advancement and traditional values; after all, we have resources at our disposal, and shouldn’t waste them. If one of the caveats of religion is community, then we need to look at the way technology brings people together, rather than only addressing the negative aspects. When I attended Sunday School, we learned from puppets and drawings-we didn’t have bible story computer games and a Google image search at our disposal. Using technology, a medium today’s youth is familiar with, gives them a reason to care about what they are learning. I think the more engaged children are, the more information they will retain. 

As opposed to Murray who argues that games share the narrative structure of other stories, Jenkins analyzes the issue from a more objectionable viewpoint. His main argument is founded on the premise that games need to be examined less as stories and more as having narrative potential. Jenkins manages to organize games into four categories: evoked narratives, enacted narratives, embedded narratives, and emergent narratives. One of Jenkins’ claims is that the actual experience of playing a game differs from that of experiencing a story. This is an argument that I tend to agree with: while playing a game is more interactive, experiencing a story is rather passive as far as the consumer is concerned. However, the individual playing the game does not maintain complete control of the outcome of the narrative; there is a symbiotic relationship between the creator and the gamer. Certain aspects of the game are pre-programmed, creating what I consider to be a base structure for the player to formulate their own individual narrative. Jenkins says this provides some procedural authorship to the game’s creator. Like Murray, Jenkins uses The Sims as an example of the individualistic narrative mapping available to the gamer. He states that in the game, the player is able to define their own character, as well as carry out the story of their choice.

While I may not have played many video games growing up, one I actually did play was The Sims. I find Murray’s analysis of the game to be both interesting and completely accurate. The game combines the elements of traditional games, as well as the techniques used in storytelling-it is a perfect example of procedural rhetoric exemplified by a cyberdrama. The participant in the game is not merely witnessing the story unfolding, but rather has a direct hand in the course of events. The gamer has the opportunity to choose their own actions, creating their own personal story in the process. I think this creates a more individualistic experience for each person. I know I never played video games, as I felt that I lacked a stake in the outcome of events-it was merely a matter of winning or losing, which Murray describes as a cyberdrama in and of itself. However, with the Sims, I felt like I had the opportunity to create a life that I would otherwise not have the chance to experience. What’s so unifying about a game like the Sims is the interconnectedness of the roles of creator and interactor; both play vital roles in the success of the game. To go along with this, Loyall also makes a key argument in his response to the article. He claims that, “for immersion to take place, the characters in the world need to seem real to the participant.” I notice the same to be true with film: the more engaging the characterizations and storyline, the more invested I become in the outcome of the film. Think about it: how can you fully immerse yourself in something you don’t believe to be plausible and/or real? I know that if I don’t consider a character to be real, and look instead at the actor, it’s impossible for me to invest my emotions with theirs. 

In 2001, Malaysian religious officials outlawed the practice of Muslim men divorcing their wives via text messages. This ruling was in response to the decision of a senior cleric to give men permission to divorce in such a manner. In Islam, a man must say “I divorce you” three times to his wife before separation proceedings can take place. Religious officials claimed that text messaging in such a fashion is “an irresponsible act, dangerous, and should not be tolerated”. As the popularity of text messaging grew in Malaysia, so did its means as a method to separating from one’s spouse. However, members of the Islamic court discourage Muslims from pronouncing the divorce vow outside of court. They also claim that divorce is a serious manner, and must be treated as such, with witnesses and formal proceedings. What fascinates me most about this story is that the issue of mobile divorce even became a problem in the first place. Islam is a religion founded on tradition and a fairly strict ethical and religious code: whereas Americans have a separation of church and state, Muslims see no such distinction. With such traditional standards to adhere to, I’m shocked that the issue of divorce via cell phones was deemed alright in the first place. I think this example is a perfect display of the extreme extent to which technology has pervaded the lives of everyone, not just Americans. Whereas phones once served as a simple means of communication, they are now serving as a mediator in religious proceedings. It makes me wonder: if cell phones are so intricately involved in the lives of even the most staunch religious followers, how long will it be until we live solely through technological means? Will we continue to have coffee dates with friends when we can just video chat with them online? When will the day come when wedding ceremonies can take place over the phone? 

Grimes claims that ritual criticism is so difficult to define as it draws upon aspects from  multiple areas: there is no standardized example for how to classify and distinguish rituals. He begins by addressing the importance of criticism in the area of anthropology, claiming that the discipline has been able to overcome some of the biases occasionally found in theological studies. What I find interesting about Grimes’ argument is that he focuses even more on the failure of ritual than on its success. Rather than listing off the ways in which ritual performance is valuable and influential, he addresses infelicitous performances, and the possibility of ritual failure. I find this especially relevant and applicable to the new phenomenon of virtual reality in relation to religion. I’ve had trouble accepting the concept of online churches, arguing that while they provide the worshipper with their own personal relationship with God, virtual churches lack the ritual aspect of actually attending a church with other worshippers. Therefore, I see these online churches as a ritual failure in comparison to the physical place. On the other hand, there are also people who may view the act of sitting at their computer to “attend” the service as a ritual in and of itself, making the ritual a success. I think that Grimes contradicts himself within the argument, stating that “ritual is not a single kind of action”. If this is the case, then can’t a ritual be both a success and failure at the same time, such is the case with virtual churches? Grimes claims that a rite may fail on both a single level or on all levels, but I have to question, if the ritual fails on a particular level, wouldn’t it be considered a failure overall? What I really think is the success of a ritual comes down to the individuals taking part in the rite: for some it may suit their individual needs, for others the same rite may fail. Either way, I think it is an oversimplification to state whether a ritual is a failure or not.