Ayn Rand in Rapture

               Most people do not think of video games as works of art, which in my opinion most aren't. There is one game that defies this common belief. Bioshock is a very complex game that has an incredible storyline with actual learning possibilities, specifically in philosophy. 

                The story takes place in 1960, out in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean a great city has been built deep under the Ocean. Andrew Ryan, (even his own name is made up of Ayn Rand), a Russian just as Rand, had grown up in the time of the Bolshevik revolution when the Soviet Union was forming. He had been heavily oppressed just as Ayn Rand's family and decided to take more extreme measures. He created his own philosophy that is identical to Rand's Objectivism and spread the word. He took his money and made more money, leaving Russia for America. He taught his ideas to many people eventually gaining enough supporters to reveal his plan. He kept it a great secret and only told his followers. They were to build a city in the middle of the ocean where "the artist would not fear the censor, where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, where the great would not be constrained by the small." This city was called Rapture as in to be free from oppression. Pure capitalism was embraced and religion was non-existent. "No Gods or Kings Just Man." His one fear was the world figuring out about his city. The "parasites", the people who wish to take away his dream were to never discover his creation. He had thousands of the brightest minds in the world all come together to live in absolute freedom with unquestioned secularism.

               "I am Andrew Ryan, and I'm here to ask you a question. Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow? 'No!' says the man in Washington, 'It belongs to the poor.' 'No!' says the man in the Vatican, 'It belongs to God.' 'No!' says the man in Moscow, 'It belongs to everyone.' I rejected those answers; instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose... Rapture, a city where the artist would not fear the censor, where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, Where the great would not be constrained by the small! And with the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city as well." 
- Andrew Ryan

             This quote is Objectivism in a nutshell. It has specific examples but it is also metaphorical. The sweat on your brow is anything you do, all you own, and any goals you might have. He is saying that in anywhere else in the world you are not entirely owning those things. In some way or another you are sharing. Ryan believes that you live for yourself just as Rand does, not for any government or religion. You are the ruler of your own life. 

               

"The Missing Scene" From Chapter 1 in Anthem

               When we became of age, it was time for us to have our life's determined, to be told what it is we were going to be doing, until becoming "useless." The Council of Vocations had seemed like a distant thing while being educated, but as we grew nearer to judgement, we had been thinking of it quite often. Now that the day has finally fallen upon us, we wish to put our knowledge to good use at the House of Scholars, but we know it is a sin to prefer a job and we know that the council make the best judgement.

               As we awoke on the day of judgement, we felt a disturbing feeling, lodged not in the stomach or any muscle, but the mind and heart. We felt nervous, not because of any immediate danger, but because we felt as if we needed to be a scholar over any others we had been educated with. This is horrible thought to think, but yet we were thinking it. We did our best to repress the feeling and continue on with our day.

                When it came time to be selected, we had lost sight of all things other than our future, individually. We thought with the utmost sincerity that we could better society as a scholar and we hoped that the Council of Vocations would see this. Upon being called to the stand, we were nervous, still. We looked each Council member in their eyes and saw not acceptance, but scrutiny. We knew as a child, we were never liked. We always did wrong and never good. We were not like our brothers and we knew that, the council knew it too. When they called out the words "street sweeper," our heart lurched and quickly stifled our reaction and facial expression despite the sudden disgust we felt. We knew to accept the council's decision and knew it was for the best of society. We decided to make the best of it and keep an attitude of optimism.

                 Before the Council had us swear to our new lives they had one brief discussion together shortly after determining our position in life. They backed into a corner to communicate in private. We could not help but over hear their conversation. They were discussing us, Equality, but they were not saying things we would like to hear. They were reminding the others of our childhood. They had let our intelligence and overall superiority to the others influence their decision. It was a sin to be different, but how could we change it? It was unfair. We knew this but still determined that being a street sweeper was a fine job and that we would do anything we could to help our brothers.

The Hollow Men

I

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.


II

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer --

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom


III

This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.


IV

The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.


V

Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

Thomas Stearns Eliot

War is Kind

Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind.
Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky
And the affrighted steed ran on alone,
Do not weep.
War is kind.

Hoarse, booming drums of the regiment,
Little souls who thirst for fight,
These men were born to drill and die.
The unexplained glory flies above them,
Great is the battle-god, great, and his kingdom --
A field where a thousand corpses lie.

Do not weep, babe, for war is kind.
Because your father tumbled in the yellow trenches,
Raged at his breast, gulped and died,
Do not weep.
War is kind.

Swift blazing flag of the regiment,
Eagle with crest of red and gold,
These men were born to drill and die.
Point for them the virtue of slaughter,
Make plain to them the excellence of killing
And a field where a thousand corpses lie.

Mother whose heart hung humble as a button
On the bright splendid shroud of your son,
Do not weep.
War is kind. 

Stephen Crane

Acquainted with the Night

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
A luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night. 

Robert Frost

Disillusionment of Ten O' Clock

The houses are haunted
By white night-gowns.
None are green,
Or purple with green rings,
Or green with yellow rings,
Or yellow with blue rings.
None of them are strange,
With socks of lace
And beaded ceintures.
People are not going
To dream of baboons and periwinkles.
Only, here and there, an old sailor,
Drunk and asleep in his boots,
Catches Tigers
In red weather. 

Wallace Stevens

War is Kind by Stephen Crane Response

               War is far from kind. Stephen Crane writes ironically, trying to convey his message of the stupidity of war. He is upset with the loss of life that comes from war. He does not simply bash war. He cleverly mentions horrible scenarios from war and responds to them with a sarcastic attitude. He effectively, declares his opinion without “declaring” it at all.

                He also is angry about the reasons we fight wars. The “Flag of the regiment” that tells the soldiers of the “virtue of slaughter” and “the excellence of killing,” is the reason they fight. They fight because the old men who start the war, tell them to. The young soldiers die for it. Not unlike Erich Remarque’s All Quiet On the Western Front, where Paul realizes the false validity of their cause. He eventually grows tired of the war, because he discovers the falseness of it’s so called “fruits.” War is never good.

                Both authors fought in war and they both hated the reasons they fought. Crane wrote a sly poem, promoting his idea and Remarque wrote a very controversial book that out right bashed the war he fought in. Their purpose is simple. They both just want the world to stop fighting and understand peace.

Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock by Wallace Stevens Response

               I feel that this poem discusses the feeling that society has about having to conform to what everybody else is doing. I know personally that all kids my age experience peer pressure. Everybody thinks they are an individual, but truthfully they are all the same.

              The new identity kids personify is called being "hipster." To be a hipster, you must like things that no one else likes and dress like no one else dresses. You avoid anything "main-stream" or something that everybody has already heard about. The sad thing about our generation is that being hipster has now gone main-stream.  So dressing the same weird clothes that original hipsters dressed in is now actually quite common and also the music that was once unheard of is now the coolest thing that anyone has ever heard. It is truly annoying.

                I hope that people will eventually grow up and stop acting this way. Maybe someday we can all be our own person without the fear of being made fun off.

                

Acquainted with the Night by Robert Frost Response

Isolation

Isolation,

Peer evasion,

On almost every one occasion

He never wants to meet anyone

for he fears confrontation

and questionable acclamation

 of those at the station

He separates himself from all

He is never on call

All alone 

On his own

He wouldn't have it any other way

He'd rather avoid the fray

and stay

by himself

Explanation

The theme in Acquainted with the Night is isolation. The man in the poem is very close to loneliness. He has become accustomed to it.  

The Hollow Men by T.S. Eliot Response

Anti-Passivity                   

Why don't we care

We try and we try

but it never is fair

We don't try like we used to

We don't preform like we used to

Will we ever get there

Not like this

All we show is fear

Are only chance is to trust

in those to come

We will succeed

Once sowed the seed

Confidence is what we need

Apathy is does no good

for those who even could

go far in this world

Our future unfurled

Explanation

              One of the themes in the poem The Hollow Men is passivity. The hollow men decide to wait and not act on trying to reach the kingdom. They stall and sit in their in between land and get nowhere. It makes them sad to not progress. People in the real world are the same way. We must have confidence to succeed.