Limba zeilor

Poezia e un alt fel de a vorbi. E un fel de a vorbi în limbi îngerești, vorba lui Pavel. N-ar trebui să vorbesc tocmai eu despre poezie, care sînt un ignorant pur sînge în privința ei. Doar că am așa, niște intuiții, niște străfulgerări despre natura poeziei, fără să fi iubit, adică citit, vreodată cu adevărat poezia. Dar nu e niciodată prea tîrziu ca să te îndrăgostești, nu-i așa? Sper din tot sufletul. Și sper că asta e adevărat și cînd vine vorba de femei. Pentru că tot a venit vorba, și la femei mă pricep la fel de bine ca la poezie. Dar să nu mă mai laud atîta, îmi face rău.

Mai bine să împărtășesc cu dragii mei cititori, o poezie pe care am scris-o ieri. O profesoară de engleză a zis despre ea că e perfectă. I-a plăcut, spre mirarea mea, care nu mai scrisesem niciodată o poezie care să placă cuiva.

Sper ca cititorii mei care nu știu engleză să nu se supere. Eu nu vreau deloc să mă lepăd de limba română, dar vreau cu orice preț să devin foarte intim cu limba engleză. To get intimate cu ceva e precondiția procreației. Și exact asta vreau și eu, să procreez. Și copii, nu doar poezii, dar în privința asta limba engleză nu poate să mă ajute prea mult.

 

The mirror

The mirror is
Where mind and matter
Make love
And bring monsters to life

But never mind
The matter
Or the mind, for that matter
The mirror is all
That matters

It is as if
Mind wanted to
See itself reflected
In the matter
To matter for the matter
As it were
And so it created
The mirror

In the mirror
Reflexion meets reflexion
The soul faces the body
But since they are one anyway
The schizophrenia of their
Fabricated duality
(Plato was the greatest schizophrenic ever)
Takes the shape of a monster

Moon

When I was younger I was always unsatisfied seeing a movie in which there were no women. Of course, one may say that women make the film beautiful by their beauty. But it was not only the lack of beauty as such that was upsetting to me, rather it was the apprehension of the fact that humanity is not fully represented in that particular film. Indeed, because there were no women in the film, it may be said that half of humanity was missing, and arguably the most interesting one-anyway, the one which is more suitable for the aesthetic representation we call film.

But what about a movie in which humanity is entirely absent? Is such a movie possible? Moon is just such a movie, in which humanity is there only as a background and the movie is focused with two creations of humanity,  clones and artificial intelligence.

It may be interesting to observe that in a world in which there is no more room for God, humanity is playing God ever more frequently, that is in creating beings into its own likeness. Cloning and artificial intelligence have long since stopped being science fiction. Today we are only a few technical (maybe ethical too) issues away from  actually playing God, with no sacred borders being there to stop us anymore.

Moon is an amazing movie by the upcoming director Duncan Jones and starring Sam Rockwell. Kevin Spacey is also there as the voice of a robot designed to assist Sam. Seeing this movie I realized just how difficult it is to play God. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it must be to actually be God. The main problem with playing God is not creating life, but taking responsibility for your creation. As a creator, you are fully responsible for the unfolding drama of your creatures. This is what Moon is about, about the unfolding drama of humanity’s  biological creation.

Clones are biological organisms identical to a given human being but at the same time considered to be on a lower ontological level. They are living, but they don’t actually have a life, do they? How else are we to imagine a clone if we have created it for spare parts? The human’s being  primary quality is its uniqueness. But in cloning, that is in making a number of identical human beings, humanity is getting closer to the technological, were everything is replaceable, the very denial of uniqueness. But memory is what makes a soul, and self consciousness, and if you implant memory to a clone it will starting having a soul just as much as the one who implanted the memories. After that, treating it like a machine is nothing less than murder.

I think technology has enhanced our potential for tragic stories much beyond that of the ancient Greeks. If only they were here to write some good-old Greek tragedy starting from our modern realities. What else is the mind of a clone who has memories and is self-aware but at the same time knows it (or should I say he or she?) has no right to live, at least not as the creators do, if not the most tragic spectacle imaginable? This is not to say that children dying in our world is not tragic. But at least we know that we have to stop the killing of chidren. But what are we to do with a clone who looks us in the eyes reflecting in itself our own humanity, but a humanity that for it, as a clone, is forbidden?

One of the ironies of the film is that there is help for a clone, but that this help comes not from the creators but from another creation: the machines. Gerty is a robot who exists only to serve Sam, a clone. In order to  improve functionality humans have invented artificial intelligence, an improvement that allows a machine to go much beyond any pre-written program and to make its own “choices” that are optimal in a given context.  This “freedom” is what allows Gerty to help Sam, a creation of the humans-gods just like himself. A robot helping a clone against the humans who have created them both and thus becoming itself more…human. This is not just science fiction, this is nothing less than the materialization of a set of possibilities that are floating around us  as we speak. A new kind of drama is being born in our world these days, and with it a new kind of beauty. This is why, I argue, Moon is a movie that has spark of Homer into it. Let’s just hope that this God role-playing won’t be too much for us. I mean, it sure looks like we still have a lot to learn about being mere humans.

Ode to a second

Pick a second

Randomly, don’t bother to choose

Take it an squeeze it

Make it sing

Yes, billions have gone  before

And billions will follow

But take this one passing by

It’s priceless

Taste it until it makes you sick

Will it ever?

Touch it until it burns

Burn with it!

See how fragile it is

Don’t make any sudden moves

You’ll scare it

Poor little thing

It’s here only for…well, a second

But where does it go when it passes?

Unless there’s a Big Crunch anytime soon

It’ll never come back

I miss you, sweet second

Soft, sensual second

Fragile, beautiful second

Fallen hero in the greatest war ever

I wish I could live in an eternity made of seconds

I’d call each of them by their names

And they’d answer swiftly

Obey me like one obeys an absolute master

A soft, transparent, luminous veil

Woven from seconds

Caressing both my body and soul

Forever