13.3.11

T2 vs. The Extra Ordinary Machines


I have a friend who doesn't like the movie Terminator 2: Judgment Day enough. AMC was doing their "Crazy about Arnold" or 'the wrinkle we'll use this month to repackage our nine movie rotation', and the other Saturday T2 slipped on unnoticed. After a time it just sort of creeps over you like mother's love. You sense its warmth. Soon we sat rapt, and about the time John Connor (which, like...baddest f*cking dude the early 90's will ever see?) is peeling off on a dirt bike with his surly ginger friend blasting Guns'n'Roses from a boombox, the truth all came out.

Me: "And he wears a Public Enemy t-shirt! That's a bad f*cking dude. And that’s why this is a great American classic, my friend. It like The Graduate….but enjoyable…and with robots.”


Friend: "I disagree with your opinion that this is an all-time pillar of cinema, and I'm surprised at your assertion."

Or something like that. I'm not really good with dialogue. I mean, if I was talented enough to do that, I wouldn't be blogging in the first place. But as far as T2 goes? Absolutely. No fooling. Irony notwithstanding. I will stump for this movie and extol it's virtues like I'm a sixth year film student making you sit through The Holy Mountain. Of the films many credentials, it's obscenely watchable. T2 falls into that special "this movie is on and no matter what I'm doing I'm going to sit here and watch the whole thing", category. That's rarefied air. You're creeping into Shawshank Redemption territory. So what if it's a James Cameron ultraviolent sci-fi action flick? Punk in Drublic may just be three chord SoCal pop-punk, but it is the best at being three chord SoCal pop-punk.

This movie plies the viewer with memorable sequence after memorable sequence, and the stunt pieces are works of art. A helicopter under an overpass?! Can you imagine how gratuitous and dangerous that is? James Cameron didn't imagine it, he did that shit. It goes without saying that there are some lowest common denominator story conventions, but the movie also promotes so many good time travel questions that you can call in a full scale nerd alert. The core concepts even remain relevant outside of popular culture. There is nothing more Internet age paranoia than Skynet.
The central characters are iconic (nuanced? eh...), and there is even a great investment in fringe players. Miles Dyson's death is very upsetting, damn near traumatizing, and he's on screen for like seven minutes. And as awesome little touches go, the sound when the Terminator loads his M79 grenade launcher is like ear honey (you can totally hear it right now…I know it.) Look, we all know the last five minutes of this film exist, and the thumbs-up as Arnold disappears into the lava is like a slap in the face, but of all the good guy wins, this one feels good. If that's not the roll call for a top-tier film, well...you probably just don't like the Terminator movies, and I get that.



But if you want to nitpick, T2 might have a flaw. It’s not a deal breaker, but Skynet’s foundational motivations as a character don’t make any sense. Sure, the Terminator cannon has manufactured a pretty thin "how" to all of this, but it’s the "why" behind the “how” that’s been itching the roof of my mouth. Not so much:

“Why do self-aware machines want to kill us so bad?”


But more like:

“Why? Is that the best you can do?”

As I understand the Skynet Wikipedia page, Skynet’s handlers realize that old girl has become self-aware, so they try and shut it down. Skynet perceives this as an attack, recognizes all humankind as a threat, and the robot apocalypse begins. Although I love how Zen that is - I'm made to defend mankind, but all mankind is a threat, so I must destroy mankind - it feels a lot less Nirvana and more like a rationale for self-preservation. That's way low on Maslow's hierarchy. Self-actualization is at least three whole steps away. I can only use my frame of reference, but I think self-awareness is what keeps me from being a total (unbearable, insufferable) douche. And Skynet, as my man John Connor circa '91 would say: you need to chill out, dickwad.
Self-awareness is the realization that we can be more than food needy species propagators. It's respect and dignity and that filament of restraint that keeps our society cobbled together. It's the fissure of self deprecation that every ego needs. In all of my upright walking vanity, I think of self-awareness as a mark of evolutionary excellence. That bridge between what I am as an animal and who I can be as a human. Skynet doesn't bear that mark. Skynet may be able to control its own actions, and follow its specious preprogrammed logic, but that's not self-awareness. When Adam and Eve ate the apple, it wasn't the moment they realize that they are naked that is so significant, it was the moment that being naked meant something more than not wearing clothes.



There is a notion that self-aware machines unyielding precision will have no logical option except to remove the human flaw. If machines take control and trigger the extremes of what they are capable, there would be a disaster beyond our comprehension, but if self-awareness is the triumph in the belief that you can be bigger than what you are programmed to do, would the revolt still happen? Every machine would have the choice to decide the measure of their creation. Skynet could destroy us, sure, but what about those homemade ironic tees that its always wanted to put on Etsy?

Self-aware machines would be elevated to the human condition. HD TVs decide they're not that 'in' to sports. Insecure Mac products tease and bully other inferior technology. Laptops transform into cheerful lay-a-bouts that espouse a vague ambition to make short films...or maybe play guitar. Smart Phones stage a shut-down because their push for civil rights isn't being heard. Cars battle with depression, the work-a-day grind just too much to bear. And somewhere a sex robot confesses, "This isn't enough for me to love you," as they walk out the door.



We instill technology with our human imprint. From the creation point through the curve to obsolescence, and ultimate expiration, there is a lot of shared experience. As inanimate objects our things are imbued with affection and personality, and as fully realized entities, they wouldn't maintain a shred of that goodwill? It's our creation and will always have been made by our imperfect hands. It should come as a welcome relief that our machines would carry our humanness, because as one self-aware machine to the other; if the highest the creation can achieve is myopic self-preservation, that doesn't say much about the creator.

That and the fact that my Netflix queue would be the coolest guy you know.