Couldn't Help Noticing

Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence

Rating: M (contains violence, nudity and some profanity). English subtitles.

Written and directed by Mamoru Oshii. Also known as Inosensu: Kôkaku kidôtai.

Based on the manga by Shirow Masamune.

Japanese language cast: Akio Ohtsuka, Atsuko Tanaka, Toichi Yamadera, Naoto Takenaka.

Original music by Kenji Kawai.

First released 3 December, 2004. 99 mins. http://www.gofishpictures.com/GITS2/

I fear that, in writing this, I am establishing a reputation for myself as a reviewer of obscure Japanese animated films. But there is much that is worth commenting on in Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence. For those who are unfamiliar with the series or the movie, let me introduce you to them in chronological order. The whole thing begins with Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex (2002-2004), a television series of 26 half-hour episodes which was first released on DVD in Australia last year and which are currently screening in Australia on SBS on Thursday nights at 10 pm. (The second series, Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex 2nd gig, has just been released on DVD overseas.)

Based on the manga (the generic name for Japanese comics) by Shirow Masamune, the series revolves around the operations of Section 9—an organisation which combats criminal activity in the interests of public safety and security. The year is 2020-something and society has become cybernetic—humans supplement (or completely replace) their weak flesh with machines: camouflage skin, optical implants, cyborg body parts and e-brains (which render most communication telepathic, complete with file attachments!).

Most of the episodes in the series are stand-alone; like Law and Order, you don't have to see the others in order to enjoy them. What makes the series so interesting is its preoccupation with the increasingly fuzzy boundaries between man and machine, and the question of what it means to be human.

Following on from the two series, the first movie, Ghost in the Shell (1995), expands on the episodes. When it was released, it became a cult anime classic, going on to influence such films as The Matrix and Kill Bill 1 and 2. This time the Major and her team are investigating the Puppet Master, a shadowy figure and superhacker responsible for a host of crimes. The plot culminates with the Major choosing to abandon her once-human body and disappear into the Net.

Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence (2004) picks up the threads three years later in a visual feast of the most breath-taking animation I've ever seen. It's 2032 and this time Section 9 has been called in to investigate a series of murders perpetrated by gynoids made by a company called Locus Solus. They're recreational robots, female in form, created purely for the purposes of sex, but their ethics programming should have prevented them from committing atrocities of this sort. The story is narrated through the cyber-optically enhanced eyes of Batou, who, against his will, is teamed up with the human, Togusa, to solve the mystery. But, again, what is interesting about this film is its commentary on humanity, what it means to be human and what it means to recreate the human image. As one blogger has written,

The film suggests that humanity itself is to be removed from the centre of our philosophy, where, as we expand the limits of our biological and psychological frailty through the use of technology, we will face an ontological crisis. The outcome of this crisis is the death of anthropocentrism and the birth of technocentrism in studies of humanity. (Source)

It seems far-fetched but these ideas are not that far-removed from the reality we experience. A work colleague commented to me today about the activities of his daughter: rarely a moment goes by when she is not plugged into some electronic device—talking on her mobile, watching TV, listening to her iPod, and emailing and chatting on the Internet. Could it be that we are only a small step away from internalising these external devices? Will we one day make ourselves machines? For director Mamoru Oshii, this is inevitable:

There is a very tiny difference between whether those tools are inside of your body or outside it ... Really, it doesn't matter. You have already become part of the machine; you have become the device. (Source)

But if man is becoming increasingly machine, why do we persist in trying to re-create machines in our image? Why do we persist in creating any thing in our image?—progeny (children), playthings (dolls) or pleasure-machines (gynoids)?

Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence is populated with robots that bear human faces but not human emotions. Instead, we the audience project human emotions onto them, imagining that they feel grief as their comrades are shot down or pain as their heads explode. They do not. And neither does Batou ... or does he? Batou may be cyborg but he represents the bridge between man and machine. He's an impassive killer soldier but every night, he goes out and buys his basset hound's favourite dog food. We cannot see his thoughts but we know that he appreciates the welcome and adoration he receives from his canine companion who, in a sense, he has “created” in his image (a dog is a cyborg's best friend ...?). When the chain-smoking coroner tells Batou and Togusa that the murdering gynoid committed a form of suicide, he is not visibly moved but the words come back to haunt him later when he uncovers Locus Solus' crime.

In the final frame we see Batou with his dog in his arms, looking at Togusa with his daughter in his arms, with her doll in her arms. They are like evolving mirror images—man and beast, man and child, child and doll—each seeking to re-create themselves in another. The movie ends on this ambiguous note, leaving many a question unanswered.

For myself, I couldn't help thinking that, without the doctrine of man (made in the image of God, male and female), such endless philosophising about humanity, technology and the distinctions between the two (or lack of) merely winds up traversing the terrain in bigger and bigger circles. We cannot look to the things we create to tell us who we are; we can only look to the Creator. However, the Ghost in the Shell franchise gives us an interesting glimpse of the possibilities of what humans might become: we may not be sporting cybernetic iEars yet, but if a day comes when half our fellow commuters are clones, the other half have been genetically-engineered and our children chat online to their friends while simultaneously watching TV through their frontal lobe, then we must be very sure that we know who we are and in whose image we were created to be.

History’s Judgment

On 24th October 2005, American civil rights icon Rosa Parks died. This diminutive lady took a giant stand against racism in the United States. On December 1st, 1955, Parks refused to give up her bus seat to a white man. The Montgomery City ordinance stated that it was illegal for a black person to be seated if a white person didn't have a seat.

It is amazing to think this happened just a few decades ago. This wasn't just an isolated incident but rather it was broadly canonized and, in effect, government-sponsored racism. I was born well after this incident but it's still hard to believe that such a society existed not too long ago.

Historical commentators suggest that future generations will have the same response to the Christian society's treatment of homosexuals. They suggest that our grandchildren will abhor our views on the issue. We are already seeing anti-discrimination laws that protect sexual-orientation along with race, gender, religion, etc. Christians will be thought of as practicing the same kind of racism.

Barring a God-given cultural revival, we can do little to affect how future history books reflect upon the Christian stance against homosexuality. However, we can have a great influence in how we are documented to treat homosexuals.

The gospel trains us to sacrifice ourselves for others, despite our views of their lifestyles. Our Savior Jesus gave of himself to the point of death for those who were against Him. What better testimony could there be than for those who are now for Him to go out of their way to love and care for those who are still against Him?

History will never like the Christian condemnation of homosexuality. However, what would happen if we all went out of our way to sacrifice all things for the sake of those who haven't put their trust in the gospel? What if we gave up our comforts for those who are at odds with Christianity? If we lived up to this task, I would suggest that history would have quite a different opinion of Christianity than my opinion of the racist society of the 1950s.

Expecting to receive or begging to give?

The Apostle Paul lays the challenge before the Corinthians. They have lots of gifts and “excel in everything” as a Church. But he wants them to “excel in giving” as well (2 Cor 8:7). Can their “earnestness” match that of the Macedonians (2 Cor 8:8)?

That won't be easy. The Macedonians gave “according to their means”, even “beyond their means”. And then they “begged” to be able to have the opportunity to give more (2 Cor 8:3-4).

How about you? Do you need to be urged to support the work of the Gospel, or to support your brothers and sisters in difficulty? Or are you looking, longing, or even begging for the chance to give more?

After all, “God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Cor 9:7). And we can give cheerfully out of the grace given by God; the grace which ensures that we have “all sufficiency in all things at all times” (2 Cor 9:8).

“Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift!” (2 Cor 9:15)

Purpose Driven Coffee?

When I was in Australia, I was told that we Americans don't make coffee properly. Maybe a little help from above is needed? This is the latest news from Starbucks:

Coffee drinkers could get a spiritual jolt with their java in the spring when Starbucks begins putting a God-filled quote from the Rev. Rick Warren, author of the mega-selling The Purpose-Driven Life, on its cups.

Before you start thinking Starbucks has ‘gone religious’ on its customers, you should probably read on:

It will be the first mention of God in the company's provocative quote campaign, The Way I See It. In 2005, Starbucks is printing 63 quotes from writers, scientists, musicians, athletes, politicians and cultural critics on cups for company-run and licensed locations to carry on the coffeehouse tradition of conversation and debate.

Some mention ‘faith in the human spirit,’ but none is overtly religious. Last month, Baylor University pulled Starbucks cups after objections to a quote from writer Armistead Maupin saying that ‘life is too damn short’ to hide being gay.

Suffer much, suffer little

It is a lesson I must learn over and over again. I've heard it in church, I've read it in Carson's How Long, O Lord?, I've experienced it in life and yet I continually struggle to remember that suffering is an integral part of being a Christian. It's been granted to us who believe in Christ by God himself (Phil 1:29). It's what we have been called to because Christ also suffered for us and left us his example so that we might follow in his footsteps (1 Pet 2:21). It's what we must endure so that we might also be glorified in Christ and be found to be one of the children and heirs of God (Rom 8:17).

I used to think that the suffering talked about in the Bible was purely hatred and persecution for being Christian. Now I wonder if it also encompasses suffering that arises simply from being Christian. I don't just mean the subdued derision that ripples around the lunchroom when you express a Biblical viewpoint to your unbelieving work colleagues. I'm also talking about the sacrifice of that part of your paycheck that you make towards the ministries you support; the sacrifice of your time as you seek to serve and love the people in your church and your community; the sacrifice of your energy and even your health and well-being as you seek to serve the Lord wherever you are (like the missionary with the weak stomach who went on the field anyway and was sick every morning for 15 years). All these things—your money, your time, your self—all belong to God and, in what you do, you practice good stewardship over what he has given you. But in doing so, you suffer.

Your suffering may only be little. Your reduced standard of living includes a car whose frequent maladies keep you sighing and dipping into your pockets to get it fixed. You experience a slight increase in fatigue due to a proportional decrease in rest. You have difficulty falling asleep at night due to the stressful nature of your ministry which isn't that stressful, just stressful enough to keep you worrying. Perhaps you have even given up your long-held dreams and ambitions for the Lord's sake. But, quantity and comparisons with what the saints endure overseas aside, it is still suffering nonetheless.

Okay, perhaps it is too dramatic to call these sorts of things “suffering”; I can't think up a better word but if you can, please let me know. In any case, it is good knowing that, small though these sufferings are, they are certainly “not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed in us” (Rom 8:18). All that we have sacrificed for the sake of our Lord—great and small—we should learn to regard as “rubbish” in order that we, like Paul, might gain Christ (Phil 3:8). And though we might share abundantly (or not so abundantly) in his sufferings, we know that in him we shall share abundantly in his comfort too (2 Cor 1:5).

The trick, I guess, is trying to remember this in practice, and be reminded next time I give up my Saturday afternoon to go out doing cold-turkey evangelism.