fandomhigh | Practical Philosophy, Friday

"A friend of mine walked into a fight last weekend," Ender began. They were lucky - none of the storms had set in yet, and going by the available evidence, he was willing to bet they wouldn't until class was over. "My friend didn't walk out completely intact - though don't worry, they'll be fine."

He stretched his legs out. "Our species - perhaps all sentient species, I don't know and I don't wish to speak for anyone else - has a peculiar knack for the fight. Our differences drive us to conflict. Our greater causes drive us to conflict. Presumed theft or threat or even an insult could drive us easily into conflict. Why do we fight? For any reason, really."

"Why doesn't society collapse in the face of such an onslaught of violence?" he continued. "Most often, we do so by trying to make our differences that much smaller. We incorporate our greater causes into one, so we all fight for the same, and as a group we decide which crimes are unacceptable, to greatly decrease their prevalence. We make communities, and, in theory, the larger our community, the less people there are to come into conflict with. Of course, this is a very narrow thought - for the bigger a community becomes, the more opposing voices it might also breed. But there's the hope our similarities will surmount our differences."

He sat forward. "None of which explains the behavior of my friend," he added. "Many of us here live, or have lived, on the fringes of our communities. Because we have powers, or because we have roles, in our homes that are out of the ordinary. Even if that wasn't the case before, it will certainly be when you leave, because Fandom is in no way an experience your average community is familiar with."

"Anyway, my friend lives on that fringe," he continued. "My friend went into battle against something they considered evil. Was it a matter of sacrifice, perhaps? Our little theory of community would frown upon the loss of a member, but applaud any action done in its favor - removing a violent, unlawful threat would certainly fall under that banner."

He smiled wryly. "Of course, taking that route might be trying to weave it into too logical a narrative," he said. "We're creatures of emotions, by and large. Is it still ethical, and in service of the community, if we lash out and sacrifice ourselves in a beneficial way, not for that community, but to satisfy our own anger? You could in fact argue that vigilante justice is detrimental to the community, because it passes by all those constructs we've set up to keep each other from beating someone's brains in with a rock. If it becomes okay to exact violent retribution on someone for an act against the community without following the rules of that community, don't we break open the patterns that weave us all together?"

His eyes flicked over the group - especially to Britta ~~if she was there~~. "Or maybe those kind of structures - like the police, for example - are inherently corrupt," he said. "Maybe they enforce an order that is ultimately detrimental to our community, and it is the moral connections at the heart of the community, not the ones that are writ down and enforced from above, that keep us together. Maybe by striking out alone, my friend has done what his community would like to have seen done. It's a question, isn't it?"

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Tara frowned a bit. "Mad would be a big word," she quibbled. "Upset is ... I mean, I can get upset when there's no dessert left in the cafeteria."

Though mad would have been justified, too, in her opinion. She sighed.

"Not to ... derail this about word choice. But, did you tell Ben you thought it was stupid?"

"I think he knows I'd think it was stupid," Ender said. "But he's had a terrible time of it recently - there's not really been an appropriate time."

Tara's eyebrows went up before she could stop them.

"... okay."

And she was going to stop there. 'Not an appropriate time' struck her as a pretty weak excuse, but she hated picking fights -- especially over things where she knew she didn't have the whole story.

"I hope things get better for him," she added, to fill the silence.

"Jaina's Ben lost his mother on Friday," Ender said.

His gaze hadn't left Tara's face the whole time.

"...oh." Tara winced in sudden understanding. "Okay, yeah, that's an excuse to be stupid for ... at least a couple weeks. It must be like ... losing her all over again."

"There's a lot of baggage he hasn't dealt with yet," Ender said honestly. "I'm trying to be kind without failing to help him lance that particular boil."

Tara nodded. "Yeah, good luck, and that's ... not meant flippantly, promise," she said, then -- for reasons she didn't understand other than that they seemed like a good idea at the time -- "Supposedly I'm ... dead. In some worlds. Like, uh, Kennedy's. Not that that's ... the same."

[OOC: I HAVE NO IDEA WHY BUT SHE REALLY WANTED TO SHARE THIS. If it's too much, I can reping.]

Ender's eyebrows flew up. "Ah," he said quietly. "No, it's not the same. But that doesn't matter."

For reasons he could only describe as Ben's influence, he reached over and touched her shoulder. "That must be confusing."

[[ dork. don't even think about it. <3 ]]

Tara looked briefly surprised by the touch, but smiled. "It is, but it's ... there's nothing I can do about it, right? I guess I could lock myself in a bubble somewhere, but if how long we live is destiny, then I'd just choke on a sandwich or something."

She shrugged. "I mostly .... try not to think about it. But, uh, I guess the reason the thing about Ben reminded me is ... I figure it might happen in Wesley's world or something, too."

"I find knowing about these things - whether you're the one further along in the timeline or not - can be a source of a lot of anxiety," Ender offered. "You can't know whether this is how things will work out for you - and I'd advise you to stick with not thinking so, because even if we live in a deterministic universe, there's no sense in bothering if you can't at least pretend you've got free will."

He leaned back again. "Do you know how it happened?"

Tara winced and looked at the ground. "Shot. Stray bullet. Which strikes me as such a freak thing, because ... I know my life isn't the safest, but demons don't normally shoot at people."

"It's not always demons who kill people," Ender said. "Most of the time it's just other people."

If he sounded a little weary about that, he had his reasons.

"Unfortunately," Tara said with a tiny smile, "yeah."

It just wasn't what she thought about when she thought about herself.

Ender returned her smile. "Whatever happens, whether it be this or an easy death eighty years hence," he said, "I have full faith you'll make something of the time leading up to it. Trite as it sounds, that's what matters, isn't it?"

"Who says I have to die at all?" Tara wondered. "But ... thanks. I don't want to be famous or anything, but a good life ... I think we can all ask for that. Even if it sounds like a greeting card."

"That's the thing about platitudes," Ender said, "They usually get to be that way because they're true enough that everyone keeps saying them."

He shot her a wry look, then took a bite from his sandwich. "Of course, if you're lucky, they'll invent space travel before you die," he said. "Relativity is good for a long lifespan, objectively speaking."

"How long could it be?" Tara wondered, both to seize the distraction and because she was curious. "Like, to us on Earth, how long could you last out there?"

"If you just kept going?" Ender asked. "Thousands of years, probably, if you try your best."

He would.

Tara let out a low whistle. "I guess it makes sense," she said cautiously. "It's not like you'd ... fall off the edge of the universe."

"It might be possible, but then we're talking about billions of years of travel time," Ender noted. "Which I guess you could accomplish if you went into stasis the whole time, but it feels like a waste."

"It'd be boring to just ... sleep through it. Besides, wouldn't somebody have to stay awake to fly the shuttle?" Tara asked. "Or is your technology past that?"

"Not yet, but it probably won't be all that long," Ender said. "I know the vast majority of the people on board my colony ship are taking the stasis option, though - we just still need a captain to fly us."

He had a feeling Jane might come in handy if he ever decided to go under for such a long time.

"But not you?" Tara asked. "Or are you going to wait and see if you want it?"

She wasn't sure what she'd decide, herself. Something about the idea of staying asleep for a long time -- centuries, even -- was vaguely creepy. On the other hand, it would be hard to carry enough books to keep her busy,

"I think it'll be odd enough for my colonists to adjust to having a 20-year-old governor," Ender said, with a wry smile. "I won't saddle them with an eighteen-year-old."

Tara nodded seriously. "You have plenty of time to grow a manly beard in that extra two years."

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endsthegame - 2012-06-02 05:15 (UTC) - Expand