Today I will document seemingly unrelated thoughts and observations, attempt to tie them together, and ultimately to Jazz Hands, in vain.
Last night I saw an advertisement for a major fast food chain that used Jazz Hands prominently throughout the commercial. At first I was amused and found it somewhat entertaining. Then I felt a bit dismayed, seeing Jazz Hands utilized as a marketing gimmick. Then I shifted back to pleased at the thought of jazz handing's rise in popularity, but then countered that with longing for the good old days when Jazz Hands was cultish and more of an insider's game, not necessarily having the watered down, mass appeal that sucks the life out of all things awesome.
Shifting gears back to "Trollyology." If you recall day seventy-eight back on March 19th where we last left our brain in a vat with a moral dilemma to contemplate...
The bonus post presented a moral dilemma regarding a train, or trolly with a brain in a vat at the helm with a morbid decision to make. Go left and kill people, with unintended consequences listed as a result, or go right and kill people with a different set of unintended consequences listed as a result. The given scenario is ridiculous in hindsight. It was a difficult enough task to contemplate the actual moral dilemma at hand, let alone having to draw out a comprehensive death grid dictating who to kill, who to save and which side of the tracks version of murder was more acceptable and thus, justified. Let me rephrase the moral dilemma more simply, which is something I should have done in the first place. Let us entertain the thought of a train, or trolly (hence, "Trollyology") on a collision course with a school bus. You have three choices.
1. Do nothing.
2. Pull a lever, switching the train's course where one man, standing in the train's path will be killed.
3. Push that same man's heavier set twin brother onto the tracks, stopping the train on impact with said heavier set twin brother.
You have to choose one.
Winston Churchill was faced with a similar dilemma during World War Two, which is at least in part the point in the trolly exercise and the origin of the philosophical moral dilemma regarding the trolly. The Germans invented flying bombs that the English nicknamed "Doodlebugs" due to the buzzing noise they made. Doodlebugs were sent into London in an attempt to destroy military installments vital to England's war cause. The Doodlebugs mostly fell short of their intended targets, sparing the precious English war machinery, but instead found purchase in residential areas killing thousands of civilians.
Churchill had three choices.
1. Do nothing with hope that the Germans will not wise up and continue to miss their intended targets, which saves the English war efforts, yet sacrifices civilians in the process.
2. Disseminate reports communicating that the bombs were misguided, humiliating the Germans, with the likely result in adjustments and subsequent better aim, saving the civilians while compromising the military installations.
3. Disseminate misinformation detailing the success of the German's bombardment ensuring that the Germans would continue their errant doodlebugging.
Churchill ordered the third option, resulting in 6,000 civilian deaths, ultimately preserving the war effort to secure the lives of the tens of thousands of others that would otherwise perish if the Germans got their way. Intentionally surrendering thousands of innocent lives, lives you are charged with protecting, could not have been an easy decision to say the least.
So back to our trolly. The one scenario I just do not see happening is to sit idle and let the train destroy a bus full of children. Is there a difference between changing the course of the trolly with knowledge that it will result in an innocent man's death, sparing the lives of children, versus physically pushing a man onto the tracks? Both are morally justified. Both have the same result. So does it matter what path you choose?
One of my favorite moments in college was during a lecture, freshman year. The hall, half filled with eager minds, the other half filled with people like me. An elderly woman, rotund and short, dropped her books in the center isle and upon bending over to pick up the spilled contents, her pants fall down revealing her large, granny panties to all. The entire lecture hall breaks out in laughter. The eager minds laugh. The people like me laugh. The professor laughs. Philosophy 101 students need a good chuckle from time to time and if memory serves, Mrs. Rotund provided a fair amount of them throughout the course of a semester. I do not recall if this occurred on Brain In A Vat Discussion Day or not, but the dense subject matter certainly requires comic relief, as does life in general.
Levity is needed or else you'll get swallowed up and pooped out of existence and if you know for a fact that in time you will be nothing but fertilizer, why not attempt to make choices you can live with and laugh as much as possible in the process.
Enter Jazz Hands. The Royal Jazz Hands...the not so Royal Jazz Hands...Jazz Hands that make you contemplate...consider...reconsider...and also laugh. Let Jazz Hands sell flame broiled hamburgers. Let Jazz Hands "Bring It!" Whatever you do, please don't take Jazz Hands seriously. If you do, think of our dear old friend Mrs. Rotund and her granny panties...even a brain in a vat would find humor in that.
Probably not Winston Churchill though. He had Doodlebugs to worry about, which is serious business.
Today's Jazz Hands could not decide. Day ninety-one complete.
