Friday, June 20, 2014

Man of Steel - Part 2 - Trust: Reciprocity of Hope and the Significance of One.




Man of Steel – Part 2 - Trust: Reciprocity of Hope and the Significance of One.

One year ago I wrote the first entry in a series of articles I intended to write covering the symbolism of the Man of Steel movie in relation to overarching philosophical, existential, and current event related themes. I intend to continue that series with at least one or two more blogs. This entry will focus on one of the larger themes the movie addresses. As I explained in the first entry of this series theMan of Steel has more to say about our current world political state of affairs than just about any other movie out there right now (since the last entry, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, probably gives Superman a run for his money in terms of being relevant to world current affairs). For a more full discussion on how Man of Steel accomplishes this without actually “saying” it directly, take a look at the first entry in this series. For this entry I wanted to focus particularly on the concept of trust and the importance of the individual towards institutional trust.

Trust Defined

One of the major themes that Man of Steel attempts to engage in discussion is regarding the nature, creation, nurturing, and development of trust in oneself, others, and for others.
What then is trust and why engage in a discussion regarding it? First definitions are in order to get a sense of what trust is generally understood as consisting of. The dictionary provides several definitions of which I have chosen a few that are relevant. Trust is a “belief that someone or something is reliable, good, honest, effective,” and an “assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something.” Additionally, the dictionary provides that it is “dependence on something future or contingent: hope.” There is quite a bit of information contained in just those few definitions but the primary meanings to be derived from them are that trust is in some sense an assurance of things that are hoped for due to the goodness or moral rightness of the one in whom the trust is placed. In a legal context a “trust” is defined as, “ [a] fiduciary relationship regarding property and charging the person with title to the property with equitable duties to deal with it for another’s benefit; the confidence placed in a trustee, together with the trustee’s obligations toward the property and the beneficiary.” Particularly, in relation to the establishment of a “trust” the primary legal considerations are the duties that are placed upon the trustee to deal equitably with some matter that is entrusted to their care on behalf of another person or persons. For a trust to be established in a legal sense there are several requirements that a trustee must meet beforehand regarding his/her ability to be a trustee, as well as other laws shaping the fiduciary relationship. None of these are particularly relevant to the discussion here, but suffice it to say that in that context, the same basic notions of assurances of a hoped for benefit due to the character of the trustee is present. That is, that when we place our property or some interest in the trust of another, we given them our consent to act for our benefit due to our belief in them as being capable, worthy, and qualified to act for us. Thus the idea of “trust” is inextricably tied to the notion of good and right relations to others.

What is it about human nature that seems to long for the conceptual notion of “trust” such that we establish legal frameworks, cooperative associations, and relational bonds to seemingly satisfy this particular need? In saying that such a concept is a “need” I do not mean to imply that such a concept can be merely reduced to a materialistic set of instincts or evolutionary biological adaptations geared towards mere species survival, however. Such an understanding of an ultimately conceptual and metaphysical thing as “trust” could never actually mean anything, exist, or matter if it was only a secondary manifestation of some biologically determined cause. That is to say, that if “trust” is simply a term humans have invented to explain how they are biologically determined to cooperate or work together for survival, it could not actually mean anything at all.  A true Darwinian evolutionist would have to agree that there could be no such thing as “trust” in a metaphysical sense, that it is merely a secondary phenomena of some physical process, much like a rock being operated upon by gravity. Such a conception would reduce the actions, thoughts, beliefs, feelings, and meaning of trust to the superfluous, the unnecessary, and the ultimately impossible. I discuss the problem that this presents as between creationism and evolutionary theory in the previous entry, specifically in relation to Krypton’s bioengineering of children. As argued there choice is a necessary precursor and fundamental assumptive state of being for “trust” to mean anything at all. As such one must abandon the materialistic evolution theory in the same way that Jor-El did when he sent his only son to Earth to show us a better way. An explication of the history of our own thought on this matter should suffice to show why trust is fundamental to human existence and a product of choice, faith, and hope.

In the history of thought on this subject there have been several theorists that have put forth narrative worldviews to support their notion of the state of reality and the position that “trust” holds in that worldview. First, in Plato’s The Republic, Socrates and Glaucon argue about the nature of humanity being fundamentally self-interested. Glaucon asserts that only the fear of being detected and the possibility of punishment prevents humans from breaking the law and doing evil. Glaucon concludes that we should trust others only if we can be assured that they won’t do us wrong because of their fear of being detected or punished. This notion of trust seems somewhat foreign to a general understanding of what trust is, but does represent a very prevalent conception of it today. Ultimately, such a viewpoint is selfish and self-interested and is best illustrated in Machiavelli’s The Prince and Hobbes The Leviathan. Both philosophers present humans as fundamentally evil and prone by  nature to self-interested behavior. It appears that both assumed this conception of human nature without ever advancing any proof that in fact human nature is fundamentally self-interested. While it is true that human nature is bounded by necessities both for survival and for thriving, however that humans need things doesn’t mean that they are fundamentally by their nature selfish. Selfishness goes beyond mere need or even wants as it often represents overindulge and lack of discipline. Further, such a conception of the nature of humanity itself implies an evolutionary determinism that is incompatible with choice or meaning itself. If as Hobbes implies that human nature is fundamentally, “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short,” where there would be “war . . . of every man against every man” to obtain his own self-interested goals, then such a situation would be due to our nature and not because we chose such an outcome. For those who believe they do have choice and are morally accountable for their exercise of it, such a theory of human nature could ever be satisfying or compatible. Hobbes avoids complete meaninglessness and determinism by suggesting that a “truce” must be established in the state of nature whereby the brutish war could be avoided. However, his conception fails to fully account for a full conception of trust because as he says “covenants without the sword are but words, and of no strength to secure a man at all.” Hobbes vision of trust is then similar to that argued by Glaucon.  Such a conception of trust is essentially the one we operate on a day to day basis both in our individual lives as well as on the international scene. Most countries operate on the basis of the various checks and balances preventing them from obtaining their interests. This could also be applied to human interaction as well. This ultimately devolves into game theory, whereby each human acts rationally in his own interests and where there is a lack of fear of punishment; he will pass up cooperation to gain his own interest. And if a person is truly playing this game correctly he will anticipate this line of reasoning in his opponent. Such a conception is ultimately Machiavellian, in the sense that he described as putting forth the mask of benevolence but only to gain power, and using every means and opportunity to advance one’s own cause, including lying, manipulation, and deceitfulness. This conception would destroy the very basis of trust and cooperation in relation to all human activities that are fundamentally necessary for its thriving, including, love, friendship, procreation and raising of children, and the provision of means of survival across time. Additionally, it destroys the very nature of faith in theory and practical application as such concepts require genuine altruistic actions and behaviors. In a world where everyone is fundamentally deterministically self-interested there can be no real altruism and its related notion of heroism.

I have argued elsewhere on this site against the implications of materialism as a fundamental assumption of human nature as propounded by these philosophers. I also have posited that much if not all of the conceptual, like “love,” “faith” and “hope” all are “things” that exist as a fundamental and primordial aspect of our human nature. That is to say, that they exist forever and always, before we existed here, and after this existence, as products of relational existence. It is fundamental in the sense that no person ever comes into this world by their selves or of their own volition or power. We all come into this world as a direct product of a relation (conjugal union), and through a relation (birth), and into a relation (familial).  There never was a person that was born without this fundamental aspect of their personhood already experienced. David Hume argued for such state in his A Treatise on Human Nature, wherein he suggests that humans are sympathetic to each other because they are “mirrors” of each other, which gives a “remarkable desire of company, which associates them together, without any advantages they can ever propose to reap from their union.” This is because by nature, humans are naturally needful, sympathetic, similar, and prone to “care” for others. I would argue that all humanity is a mirror for each other because of our common existence, purpose, and our primordial voluntary association. I have argued in other entries that we all descend from the same beginnings, that we understood our purpose in being here, that we agreed to such a situation (including forgetting about it to act on our own volition in this state) and that we knew  would always have the ability to choose. Choice is a fundamental aspect of human nature and underscores the idea that trust (also primordial) will always be bounded by it as well. It is in the act of “loving” exercising “faith” and “hoping” that we learn the significance of each in any numerous contexts we are called upon to choose. As I argued in the first entry, this is primordial and not limited by nature or nurture theories of behavior. We are free to choose, always, and that is the state of being that is necessary to really understand what Man of Steel is saying about “trust.”

Reciprocity of Hope and the Significance of One

Man of Steel’s primary theme regarding the necessity of trust is expressed in several particular instances.  First, Clark’s sense of trust is developed through his interaction and a result of the rearing of his adopted parents. As I stated before, the Superman mythos recognizes the necessity of parents in the lives of children for proper moral, educational, and mental development. Both Clark’s adopted parents provided him the necessary foundation for a healthy understanding of the metaphysical concept of “trust.” When Clark first suffered from the onset of his powers he was frightened, confused, and lost until his mother provided him with safe haven by offering comforting words and the opportunity  for him choose to accept it and act on it. In that small but poignant moment Clark learned not only to trust his mother, whose love and wisdom is expressed in a simple statement that he should “focus on [her] voice. Pretend it’s an island in the ocean... Can you see it? . . . then swim to it.” Clark’s mother demonstrated the ultimate form of love, that of a mother for a child, providing a descriptive distraction for Clark to focus on to help calm his overreacting senses, while simultaneously teaching him a brilliant truth about trust. That experience had been burned into his memory as he recalls it later in his life during the explosion of an oil rig all around him. The lesson is  that when he feels lost, overwhelmed, overcome by life’s complexities, its harshness, its trauma, madness, and confusion, that he can choose to remain focused, calm, resolute, and serene. Many people in this day age are reactionary rather than proactive, usually as a product of not exercising their own fundamental ability to choose, which is also usually further hampered by being unable to distinguish between the right and wrong choices. Clark learned early on that he could choose to remain calm and control himself and that such an ability was greater than his superhuman powers. This amazing development lessons and it’s future resonance with Clark was all because of the love of a mother. Undoubtedly, based on this one experience, Clark learned that he could trust in his mother. It is from this bond that his trust could be further expanded and completed.


Second, Clark’s understanding of trust is further expanded in relation to the trust in which he is required to place in his father. While many people have disliked the portrayal of Jonathan Kent in Man of Steel as being somewhat authoritative while also being unsure about some things in relation to Clark, I find the portrayal to be accurate and profound. Particularly, Jonathan’s insistence that Clark keep his secret, and that he as a father protects the secret at all costs is seen as somewhat limiting to the story as well as to Clark. However, I posit that this conception is precisely the necessary and logical portrayal of a concerned, caring, and protective father in regard to his son. Clearly, Jonathan understands the significance of his son, his potential, and its ultimate meaning on a larger scale. Clark’s interaction with his father often revolves around a seeming clash of masculine energy that is common among men and especially in regard to fathers and sons. It is through this clash (which doesn’t imply violence or force necessarily) a man’s character is developed, most often in similar vein as to his father figure. The Superman mythos understands that males need other male figures in their lives to help them come to terms with their natural abilities, proclivities, tendencies and sense of maleness. It is an undisputed fact that males and females are different in very important respects and that the complementarity of the roles of men and women, fathers and mothers , are necessary for proper development of children. Jonathan’s concern is therefore not about suppressing him, but about helping to shape the character of his son and in particular protecting him from his own young, rebellious, an uncertain masculinity until he is ready to shoulder his masculine responsbilities, and of course  those of a Super man. From his youngest recollection Clark remembers how his father introduced him to his true origins, allowed him to experience the situation, dwell on its import and meaning, feel the loss and confusion associated with it, but never letting him lose sight of the future, his potential, or become overcome by grief. This is all expressed in such way as to represent a near perfect fathering exemplar.


             Jonathan: “You’re the answer to ‘are we alone in the universe?”

            Clark: “I don’t want to be.”

Jonathan: “I don’t blame you, son. I’d be a huge burden for anyone to bare; but you’re just anyone, Clark, and I have to believe . . . that you were sent for a reason. All these changes that you’re going through, one day . . . one day you’re going to think of them as a blessing; and when that day comes, you’re going to have to make a choice . . . a choice of whether to stand proud in front of the human race or not.”

Clark: “Can’t I just keep pretending I’m your son?”

Jonathan: “You are my son; . . .but somewhere out there you have another father too, who gave you another name. And he sent you here for a reason, Clark; And even if it takes you the rest of your life you owe it to yourself to find out what that reason is.”

This exchange is at the heart of Clark’s interaction with both of his fathers. Both of his father’s understand their roles as primary caregivers and male father figures. What Clark must become and do is foreshadowed consistently and constantly throughout the movie and represents the process of self-actualization through ideation and example. As I argued in the first entry, Man of Steel, traffics heavily in the predispositional reality of both natural genetic inheritance and learned behavior for the formation of children, boys, men, and heroes (women can be heroes too).  However, what is underscored is the necessity and ultimate morality that underlies every choice, every decision, and every intent for the future, as well as the foundational basis that the past, its lessons, and experiences create for those choices. It is Clark’s father that first introduces him to this fundamental lesson of life, that of remembering the past in the present towards an intended and as yet but hoped for future.  Jonathan’s ultimate sacrifice and ultimate expression of love and hope for his son’s future is underscored with the exchange regarding the necessity of keeping his secret until the right time, until the world is ready, until the world needed what he had to specifically offer to it.  In expressing his powers to save a school bus full of his fellow classmate’s scrutiny is placed upon Clark by many of the town residents. Jonathan goes to Clark, sensing his confusion about not being able to express his powers, as well as the strangeness and external response of others to it.


Clark: “I just wanted to help”

Jonathan: “I know you did, but we talked about this. Right? Right? We talked about this… Clark, you have to keep this side of yourself a secret.”

Clark: “What was I supposed to do? Just let them die?”

Jonathan: “Maybe; but there’s more at stake here than our lives or the lives of those around us. When the world . . . when the world finds out what you can do, it’s gonna change everything, our . . . our beliefs, our notions of what it means to be human . . . everything. You saw the way Pete’s mom reacted, right? She was scared, Clark.”

Clark: “Why?”

Jonathan: “People are afraid of what they don’t understand.”

In this example, which many have misunderstood, it is clear that Jonathan Kent’s concern is with the greater good. While Superman has always been the champion of the individuals life, and respected the ultimate and primary worth of the individual, it has not always been as against the greater good. Just as individuals are born into relations as a product of relations there are metaphysical conceptions that transcend the individuals necessities, needs, and wants. This is explicitly referenced by Clark’s reading of Plato’s The Republic in one scene. Further, Jonathan’s uncertainty shouldn’t be read to be a direct injunction of his son to not save lives of those he can, and in fact, there is no evidence whatsoever that this is the lesson Clark learned or that his father intended it. In fact, this can be disproven by just watching the film as Clark goes about helping others, but albeit in secret as his father asked and intended, until the right time for a full revelation of his nature and abilities. This theme has a direct religious corollary to Jesus Christ’s relationship with his own fathers. It is common knowledge that Jesus Christ was not commissioned for his ultimate sacrifice and ministry until he turned 30 years old. There is very little biblical evidence of what his childhood consisted of, but it is explicit in assuring us that he was a special child and was engaged in doing good from his earliest years, but doing so in near secret. This was by design, so as to protect him and those around him from danger, and for the proper development to be attained for his mortal ministry.  This has direct example in scripture in Christ’s 40 day fast before the beginning of his ministry,  in direct preparation for his ultimate mission. Man of Steel adopts this same theme in very particular and overt and covert ways. Ultimately, what Jonathan understood and was trying to convey to his son was the necessity of patience, purpose, reticence, and proper moral call to action. It is for the same reason that we do not ask children to take on major responsibilities that are beyond the ken of their experience.  It was through the developmental process that Clark learned, grew, and was ready to shoulder the weight of the responsibilities that would come upon him. Wisdom dictates that intelligence and ability be timely applied and not squandered by mere reckless and undiscerning application. As a farmer, Jonathan understood this concept completely. You have to plant in the proper season, nurture consistently and accordingly, and harvest only after this lengthy process has been completed. Such a situation is an objective statement about the proper roles of parents and children.

Finally, Jonathan understood the revolutionary and unprecedented nature of Clark’s existence. Taking the world as a reality and on its own terms, such a circumstance would be the greatest and most turmoil inducing event. The fact that we are not alone, and that a literal god lives among us as a man would  undoubtedly be the greatest story ever told. Additionally, it would portend questions of faith, morality, politics, and existence itself on a revolutionary and massive scale. Truly, Superman’s revelation would change the very course of history. Most men and certainly all boys would not be able to deal with such scrutiny and exposure. Clark understood this thanks to his father, even though he didn’t fully understand the reason at the time.  Clark trusted his father as a man with greater wisdom and experience, ultimately learning and later exemplifying the true quality of a man, that of deference and proper humility and moral patience.


Clark: “My father believed that if the world found out who I really was, they’d reject me out of fear. He was convinced that the world wasn’t ready. What do you think?”

Third, Father Leone provided a further inquiry into the nature of trust between others and as a direct product of faith and hope in good and the goodness of others. After revealing that he was the one that General Zod was after, an alien being with super powers on this planet, he inferentially asks for advice. This particular scene plays off a similar story in Superman for Tomorrow. In that comic series, Superman, having been confronted with a moral dilemma regarding the loss of Lois due to his own actions in trying to dictate correct human, he goes to Father Leone for perspective. In some ways the story is more about Father Leone than it is about Superman, but the dialogue between the two delves into the existentialism underlying crises in faith. However, in Man of Steel, Father Leone provides another example of someone who exhibits trust as an exemplar to Clark. 


            Father Leone: “What’s on your mind?”

            Clark: “I don’t know where to start.”

            Father Leone: “Wherever you want.”

            Clark: “That ship that appeared last night? I’m the one they’re looking for.”

             Father Leone: “ . . . do you know why they want you?”

Clark: “No. But this General Zod, even if I surrender, there’s no guarantee he will keep his word. But if there’s a chance I can save Earth by turning myself in, shouldn’t I take it?”

Father Leone: “What does your gut tell you?”

Clark: “That Zod can’t be trusted. The problem is, I’m not sure the people of Earth can be either.”

Father Leone: “Sometimes, you have to take a leap of faith first. The trust part comes later.”

Father Leone recognized the crucial link between faith, hope, trust, and choice. These four concepts are inseparably linked in relation to their manifestation in human existence. Our choices are always going to be a product of the faith in the unknown, and the hope that we have going forward. This requires us to trust in ourselves, or in other forces beyond our control, whether God, or our fellow man. Faith, is always towards an intended hopeful future and as a result is a necessity for moral action. Additionally, this conception highlights the proactive nature of the exercise of trust. Truly we cannot understand trust and therefore be trustworthy until we ourselves trust others. This type of trust implies a lack of power and manipulation of self-interest as argued by Hobbes that underlies human nature. The idea of exercising trust to vulnerability before others is a fundamental aspect of ourselves and is in large measure the only we can experience in reciprocal fashion. Such is the nature with most if not all conceptual notions. We cannot be loved until we truly love. We cannot fathom the depths of our hopes for  ourselves, until we mirror that experience in others and understand that their hopes are own.  Trust must always be a proactive choice, in every instance in which we exercise it. At any moment when we are called to action and given the opportunity to trust we must make that decision anew to engage in the possibilities it presents whether good or bad. Clark was reminded of this lesson that he has to trust the people of the Earth, as well as trust Zod, to all do the “right” thing. He does this in theory and actual reality, by surrendering himself to both factions. He does this purely as an exercise in faith, hope, and trust, but to those who are his physical superiors, and those with whom he has adopted as his family. Both could reject him, hurt him, emotionally, physically, or otherwise and yet Clark makes the decision to take a leap of faith and trust in the hopes that it would be reciprocated.

Fourth, just as Superman is about to surrender himself to Zod’s forces the sum and substance of the message of trust is brought home in an exchange he has with Lois Lane.  After being taken to where Lois is being held (due to her knowledge of Clark) they converse about his decision to surrender. Lois immediately recognizes the ultimate goodness that is Clark for submitting himself to those who could not make him submit, as well as to those who could harm him and those around him.  After this discussion Lois refers back to the first discussion they had where Clark reveals to her the sacrifice his father made to protect his secret until the time was right. Based on the understanding and sympathy she mirrored for Clark based on that experience and its ultimate purpose and meaning, she decides to hold off on running the article exposing his existence. In reference to that scene Clark states:


Clark: “Thank you.”

Lois: “For what?”

Clark: “Believing in me.”

Lois: “It didn’t’ make much difference in the end.”

Clark: “It did to me.”

While on the surface it seems as though  Lois’ “sacrifice” to not run the story about Clark did not prevent his reveal, it did provide him another and necessary anchor of trust to an individual outside of his family circle. It is easy to trust those who have cared for us since birth, and who in some sense have an immediate obligation of care towards us,  due to their responsibility for us. However, it is generally much more difficult to place our trust in those with whom we’ve had no experience, and who have no apparent attachment or obligation to us.  However, the necessity for this type of expansion of our relational experience is underscored in and by every relationship and every friendship we develop. Such a situation is a product of choice and our exercise of faith and hope towards another. It is through this interaction that institutional trust is built through the reciprocal nature of mutual faith and hope between individuals. When the world, its grand designs, its institutions, and major trends can be overwhelming and lead to confusion, apathy, or detachment, it is often the friendship and demonstrated trust of one person that can make the difference to the individual in need of help, guidance, friendship, and purpose. Clark learned this lesson through the experiential chain of trust started from his parents on through to his faith, hope, and trust in Lois. Anyone who has experienced this level of reciprocal trust knows that it is the greatest and most profound human experience. Clark’s subsequent battle is given individual meaning, purpose, and ultimately someone to trust and be trusted by. The faith and hope in reciprocity, as exercised by Superman and Lois in this instance, is something that all humans can do and forms the very basis for all heroism. Truly one person can make all the difference in the world.


“Embodied within [hope] is the fundamental belief in the potential of every person to be a force for good.” – Jor-El.



Friday, June 6, 2014

Metaphysical Musings of Multiversal Meaning: Mateo's Friday of Futures Past.


Metaphysical Musings of Multiversal Meaning: Mateo’s Friday of Futures Past.
The Multiverse
“I’m in love with you, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.”-  John Green, The Fault in Our Stars.

Excellent Book a Definite Must Read
Today I came across an article on nature.com, entitled “How to lose the one you love.” The article, which is more or less a semi-humorous/science fiction based story-solution to the problem of “unrequited love” caused me to consider the implications of such a solution in general and in particular. For those who have experienced unrequited love, the sentiments expressed in the article should be capable of evoking sympathetic relatability. For me this became even more so specifically in relation to the article because of its reliance on the concept of the “multiverse” as a solution. Those familiar with “multiverse” theory as espoused in quantum mechanics and popular science fiction /fantasy should also appreciate the article and hopefully the philosophical meandering that it, along with other sources catalyzed in me. Some of the ideas that seemed to coalesce into the general tone and sentiment of this post came about as rough contemplations of books and media that I have been consuming lately. The primary sources that spurred my thinking are the latest X-Men movie titled, “X-Men: Days of Future Past,” the book “The Fault in Our Stars” by John Green,  the poem “Ulysses” by Lord Alfred Tennyson, and the album “World’s Apart”  by Seven Lions.
 For some reason, I have a tendency to try to find interrelated and correlated meaning across my “web” of experiential existence. As I will try to articulate in this entry, I believe that this tendency is a natural, inherent, and fundamental process of human existence that forms the basis for meaning and purpose itself, but yet at times remains frustratingly obscure, muddled, fuzzy, undefined, and “as yet.” Because of the seeming paradox that presents, life itself can often appear meaningless, random, and arbitrary, and yet still, the very act of distinguishing something “as such” is itself “meaningful.” That is to say that nothing could be “meaningless” if some thing were “meaningful,” nor could every thing  be “random” if something, anything could be considered  “systematic,” nor could a thing be “arbitrary” if there wasn’t a situation where that thing could be made “sensible.” That is to say that there must be meaning in the experiences of life, particularly the experience of pain, and that is what I am trying to tease out of this assessment. I believe that there must be clues in the seeming minutiae and apparent randomness of that which is consciously, subconsciously, and unconsciously chosen, experienced, and felt.
Infinite Universes, Infinite Possibility, and Infinite Crises
Suffice it to say that all the above mentioned sources combined with my own temporal experience caused me to question the nature of reality in relation to the possibilities and implications of a “multiverse.” The concept known as the multiverse was first coined by Andy Nimmo, a scientist who chaired the British Interplanetary Society. He defined the multiverse as “an apparent universe, a multiplicity of which goes to make up the whole universe.”  Over time science fiction novelists, theorists, cosmologists and others redefined the term to be “the set of all possible universes throughout time, including our observable universe.”  Since at least the early 1940s scientists had developed what is termed “big-bang cosmology” explaining with a proper scientific theory with quantitative estimates of how the universe “began” and has “evolved” over time with its attendant possible “endings.”  Essentially that theory postulates that the big bang was the “event” that defines the birth of the universe itself, i.e.  the big bang marks the origin of space and time itself. According to the theory the big bang occurred everywhere and all at once, and before that event nothing existed, neither space nor time.  As Hubble observed, the galaxies and stars that came into existence were moved as if attached to the very fabric of expanding space, much like dots on an inflating balloon. The primary points to glean from big bang cosmology for the purposes of my analysis are that time and space are essentially considered finite, that is that this distinct “universe” has a “beginning” and therefore an “end.” While the scientific positions regarding the ultimate fate of this universe have changed over time and  essentially boil down to at least three competing viewpoints about expansion, collapse, or inflation, it is sufficient to say that the properties that were “created” in the big bang are considered finite. Such a position lends itself to many other scientific theorems and laws governing the conservation of matter and the atomic materialism underlying the existence of things. In this sense, time and space are quantifiable, measureable, and as a result a linear understanding of both concepts has become the primary paradigm for understanding all known existence. That is that there is a temporal nature to all things, and that they have a beginning and an end. This is important for the contrast between big bang cosmology and multiverse theory in some specific instances and in relation to reckoning of cyclical infinite time.
Multiverse theory suggests that this universe, the one in which we live, may not be the only one in existence, and could be just one member of a set of either finite or infinite other universes similar or not to our very own. The most prominent multiverse theory is called "eternal inflation" theory. The theory states that this universe is just one of many "pocket universes" that were randomly generated as inflationary bubbles through some fluctuation of a quantum vacuum in space. That is to say that the conditions necessary for the existence of one big bang are infinite in their application across "epochs" or infinite quantities of time and spaceEach successive pocket universe creates other bubbles which become their own universes in a chain reaction, producing a “fractal-like pattern of universes.” Andrei Linde, the primary author of this version of multiverse theory goes on to state that “in this scenario the universe as a whole is immortal. Each particular part of the universe may stem from a singularity somewhere in the past, and it may end up in a singularity somewhere in the future. There is, however, no end for the evolution of the entire universe.”  While the theory has gained traction and is supported by much philosophical and mathematical speculation it is still subject to much questioning and exploration. The primary difference between the big bang theory and a multiverse model is essentially in the possibility of infinite universes and infinite instances of the particular. Most relevant to the discussion here is the many-world interpretation of multiverse theory as a function of quantum mechanics and logical consistency. This interpretation asserts that all possible alternative histories and futures are real, each representing an actual “world” (or “universe”). Because there is a hypothesized t and potentially large and even infinite number of universes, everything that could have possibly have happened in this our past, but did not, has occurred in the past or will occur in some future of another universe.
More pointedly is the conclusion that if the universe is infinite, beyond the mere local observable universe which we inhabit (where seemingly there are only a finite number of ways that atoms can be arranged) then there would also be an infinite number of possible atomic configurations that either have or will be realized. Additionally, if you could observe such an event then it is logical that every configuration possible would repeat itself infinitely as a product of infinity as well.  This would lead to the logical conclusion that somewhere  in the vast expanse of infinite time and space there would be another observable universe similar to our own, which would also contain a duplicate (or near duplicate) version of “you” reading this. There would be an infinite number of "you’s" reading this, and also an infinite number of “you’s” in every possible configuration and variation of “your” life, in every instance of that life.

Infinite Final Crises
Science Fiction writers in general and comic book authors in particular have become entranced with the concept of the multiverse and have applied the theoretical principles in interesting ways, most specifically in regard to alternative timelines and infinite parallel worlds. In particular DC comics has crafted several major “events” in its comic universe around this concept of infinite parallel earths with infinite (or a seemingly systematic finite set,  like 52 earths) Superman’s, Batman’s, and Wonder Woman’s.  These stories often focus on what might be termed “singularities” of experience.  That is, those crucial decisions in historical reality lend themselves more readily due to some as yet understood quantum function of time and space, to the creation of a parallel earth or alternative history. For example, in the Superman story “Red Son,” Superman as a baby is sent to the USSR instead of America. The parallel story is said to have truly existed in a pocket universe and represents a singularity shift from what might be termed the “primary” or “prime” Superman story. Presumably, every action of quantum significance leads to the creation of a world where the opposite or other action was taken.

Days of My Future Past
The X-Men movie deals with this issue in some sense as the story deals with the attempt of the future X-Men to alter the course of history so as to avoid the apocalyptic destructive dystopian they find themselves in. Due to a mutant ability to red shift through time and space and therefore transcend the barriers between the two, Kitty Pryde is able to send back the consciousness of Wolverine to inhabit his younger self and to warn and attempt to change the past.  It is in that state that he is able to locate that pivotal singularity inducing moment when the dystopian future was created. It is much like the classic Back to the Future movies with its explanation of time and space and the possibility for alternative timelines and the changing of futures through alteration and quantum resonance of the past. While these time-travel scenarios differ from multiversal theory in important respects, this movie recognizes that in some sense the reality of the dystopian future still exists, but only in the mind of Wolverine, thus it is not really representative of a straight singular and linear “one universe” theory. I loved the ending of the movie for its reconciliation and redemptive nature in not only fixing the “errors” to continuity in the series, but also for recognizing the primordial nature of the X-Men’s premiere characters. I nearly teared up when Logan sees Jean Grey standing in the doorway, as it represents the ultimate wish fulfillment fantasy of time travelers, multiverse theorists, and comic book nerddom that one could “fix” the errors of the past and waking up from an awful dream.  I was even more touched when Scott Summers (Cyclops) steps through the door and catches Logan’s hand just as he is about to touch Jean’s cheek. In X-Men canon, though Wolverine and Jean share a special connection, they are never meant to be together, as Cyclops and Jean are considered soul mates. That this movie recognized the fundamental nature of these characters, while at the same time, allowing the “hero” of the movie to experience the overall effect and import of his quest  as the “loner” that he fundamentally is, was nothing but pure fan wish-fulfillment in cinematic storytelling. This brings me (finally) to the article that spurred my interest in multiversal theory. The article deals with the problem of “unrequited love” and the authors seeming “solution” to that problem and its resolution in the vein of Logan’s heroic sacrifice, in not only attempting to change the past, but also for taking on the burden of both “realities,” the one in which he is required to kill Jean even as she loves him and he her, and the one in which she survives and does not remember and is happily married to Scott. For those that have experienced such a situation (unrequited love and sacrifice, not being an X-Man or time traveler), or have aspirations to that effect, they can likely relate to the sentiment’s that both the author expresses and which I want to draw from for the possibility of an idealized realization of my own “futures past” from within a potential multiversal theory of infinite possibility.
I am Part of All that I Have Met
The article that spurred this analysis reads as follows:
How to Lose the One you Love by Gary Cuba
Out of sight, out of mind.
First off, the obligatory warning. Don't try this at home, kids! In the hands of inexperienced laymen, the method I am about to describe will inevitably be a disaster. Like, fatal-type disaster. Consider yourself forewarned.
That said, I have to admit that Jillian was truly one to die for. I'd never seen a woman whose visage struck me so deeply — smack-dab in my gut, and various regions nearby. Whenever I saw her in the flesh, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir would insinuate itself into my brain, and I would reel in response to the ecstasy of her divine musical theme.
Many wise men throughout the ages have written about this sensation. Suffice it for me to say that, if she were a predator and I were her prey, I'd gladly give up my bodily organs for her to feast upon.
Unfortunately, that was never to be. Jillian didn't even know I existed. Complete bummer.
And why shouldn't that be the case? I was an experimental physicist and she a talented concert violinist. We had nothing at all in common between us, aside from the fact that we both lived in the same apartment building. Furthermore, judging from my surreptitious surveillance of her, she already had an intimate relationship with her orchestra's bassoon player. Even more of a complete bummer. In the time it would take me to become a competent enough bassoonist to challenge his role, all the protons in the Universe would have disintegrated.
It was a no-win situation.
Which is why I began to contemplate suicide.
Trouble was, I didn't want to die. All I wanted to do was to forget about Jillian, completely and irrevocably. Then I could move on with my life. It was a real dilemma. Just as it is, I'm sure, for a million other sociophobic nerds like me.
So here is where it gets a little complicated. Stay with me; don't sweat the physics stuff. It's not that hard to follow.
Quantum mechanics boils down to one simple principle: sometimes you win, sometimes you lose and sometimes you get rained out. You can't be sure of the result until you read about it in the sports section of the newspaper.
But that's just one interpretation — and there's every reason to believe it's the wrong one. We both win and lose. We go on to glory in one version of the Universe, and go down to ignominious defeat in another. (And, not to neglect the other possibility, we get soaking wet in a third.) The field of play is called the multiverse.
But you already knew that, right? Lately, it's all over TV, movies and the Internet. Few, however, realize that the concept is more than 50 years old. Sometimes it takes that long to agglomerate something into the popular zeitgeist.
It may be difficult to understand how we can exploit this fact to our personal benefit — but that's what this exposition is all about.
Like I said, don't sweat the small stuff. Bottom line, here's what you need to kludge together to solve the age-old problem of unrequited love:
1) One big-assed electrical generator, capable of delivering instantaneous jolts of 20 or more amps on demand.
2) Two very large copper cables connected to the positive and negative poles of said generator, terminating in handgrips that you will grasp while standing barefoot in a tub of salt water.
3) A quantum trigger. An old radium-dial watch will do nicely.
4) A photomultiplier tube, to detect the random photons that emanate from the radium source.
5) A video camera, focused on the page of the telephone directory that lists the name of your love interest.
6) A PC programmed to fire off the generator's output when instructed by the quantum trigger, but also to cease firing when the video camera detects the disappearance of said name in the directory.
Simple, right? Remember, you both win and lose. The radium watch dial can either produce a photon within the computer's scanning cycle, or not. Both possibilities are real. The 'you' that survives this process will be the winner, set free, free, free. No more Jillian. No more love dilemma.
True, millions — possibly billions, trillions, quadrillions — of yourselves will die to get there. But they're just bodies under the bridge.
Yet, it's not all so simple. The astute reader will question why and how I can refer to Jillian at all in my tale, when she has never existed in my current Universe.
The answer? I never pulled that quantum trigger. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I just couldn't envisage living in a Universe where I didn't love Jillian.
This article really touched me, particularly the final stanza, in which the author having been tortured by unrequited love and faced with the fictional possibility of multiversal memory mind wipe, chooses instead to accept the pain associated with it due to its ultimate significance, meaning, and purpose in loving. Alright, call both me and Gary hopeless romantics, but I get that sentiment, completely.
I would posit that most have experienced a form of unrequited love, in any particular instance of the category that encompasses the universal, yet specific instances of the expression of “love.” This is essentially to say that everyone has experienced feelings of care, concern, and affection for others in many various forms that have not necessarily been returned in kind or in equal measure. The article specifically focuses on the form of love considered to be “romantic.” Truly, most of the great stories, whether science fiction or otherwise, have at their core a story about romantic love.  Something about the concept of love seems to underlie the very basis of human existence, meaning, and purpose.  The concept of love itself encompasses more than just biological stimulus responses systems, but also something of a deep and meaningful metaphysical reality. This manifests itself in human experience as emotion, as action, as thought, and as the existentially conceptual. That is to say that we can feel it, we can think about it, we can philosophize on it, we can speculate about it, and it can exist as something outside of or in us. Yet, in a literal sense we cannot “have” it in the same sense that I can “have” a pen or other object. As such it is somewhat ephemeral, yet completely fundamental.  Shakespeare summarized it thusly:
“Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lover’s eyes; Being vex’d a sea nourish’d with lovers’ tears; What is it else? a madness most discreet, A choking gall and a preserving sweet.” (Romeo and Juliet 1.1).
Whatever it may be in its truest sense, it is a force, and a power that is real and a seemingly fundamental aspect of human existence. Even if the possibility of a universe, where the one you love or loved never existed were presented to you, what would that or could that mean to you in this moment? I posit that such a situation would actually diminish and destroy the very possibility of its meaning anything at all anywhere at all.
“Without pain, how could we know joy? This is an old argument in the field of thinking about suffering and its stupidity and lack of sophistication could be plumbed for centuries but suffice it to say that the existence of broccoli does not, in any way, affect the taste of chocolate.” – John Green, The Fault in Our Stars.
That the reality of such a sentiment existing is  ever-present, not only as a memory in the past, but as a catalyzing influence for some intended future, denotes that such a possibility cannot and should not exist. An infinite number of alternative historical Mateo’s could never matter to present Mateo, except in relation to that which caused such sentiments to arise in the first place. Further, multiversal theorists state that “in the case of a true multiverse, there is not even the possibility of any indirect causal connection of any kind- the universes are then completely disjoint and nothing that happens in any one of them is causally linked to what happens in any other one.”
  If there was another universe in which love was requited it would mean nothing to the one in which I exist in the same way that the existence of broccoli does not, in any way, affect the state and nature of chocolate. They are not the same thing and the same meaning could not be derived from such an actual situation. As demonstrated by Jean’s reaction to Logan’s incredulity of her being alive. She was completely oblivious to the actual lived experience of loss, loneliness, despair, and eventual hope, and fulfillment that defined the Wolverines journey. It is within this same context of our own historical realities, experiences, and intended hopeful futures past that we derive our ultimate joy.
 However, and yet, this is not to suggest that simply because no two “disjointed” universes could ever really mean anything to each other, it is the very sentiment and desire of causal connection that provides the possibility of choice through distinction, always toward an intended and meaningful future. My past, with the seeming cyclical “rain and the tears, the predictable storm that has come every year,” is what and who I am. It is, as the poet says, that “I am part of all that I have met.”
Cyclical Time Travel and Infinite Choral Movement
However, that there is an “earth prime” where the primordial, and primary self exists out of necessity for the possibility of meaning itself, and which therefore set the metes and bounds of the profound and significant across all time and space, does not mean that all “problems” have no “solution.”  In the western intellectual tradition we are taught that time itself is linear, that events proceed from A to B along a single, unchangeable line bounded by time and space, i.e. where there is a beginning there is an end. Other paradigmatic conceptions of time based on the concept of infinity (of which multiversal theory more or less operates) provide for” solutions” to the seeming harsh finality of linear time. Cyclical time can be conceptualized as a circle, where there is no beginning and no end, with its continuation stretching on forever. Such a conception of time suggests that life itself is a never ending recycling of things, places, people, and situations. I don’t know about anyone else, but I know that in my life I have had “singularity” moments, where my heart, mind, body, and soul were captured in one universe (mine or hers) encompassing state. Given my age, my experiences, and my understanding of the nature of things, I have also come to see such events as rare but yet coupled with cyclical patterns of behavior, sensations, conceptions, and conclusions. Why the universe appears to or actually does operate in this manner is simply beyond my full understanding, but I have a distinct feeling that this is exactly how it operates on the basis of “providence” and “fortune.” In this sense I reject the notion that history itself is completely controllable, static, and indifferent, or that force of will is the only state that mankind may operate under in relation to its movement. This conception must by necessity conceive of time as infinite, eternal, meaningful as a result of its folding back onto itself in cyclical manners. In this sense I find myself drawn to the melodious, the choral, and the harmonic in nature and in personal relational choice.  Thus, life, love, and meaning are best understood by me in terms of its “musical” tone.
The Miracle Musical Note
 The ancient Hebrews also conceptualized time in terms of musical resonance with God’s influence playing an important part in the manifestation of life’s experiences. Life is therefore conceived as purposeful in the same way that one musical note is integral to the ultimate expression and culmination of a symphonic masterpiece.  However, one note in that progression does not and cannot define the overall and “completed” musical expression. That one rhythm, beat, or notation has already occurred does not define, limit, or foreclose the possibilities and potentialities yet expressed. Indeed a later musical expression can change the entire tone of a singular note, a particular stanza, or the entire body of the work itself. This is the reckoning of time that lends itself to a multiverse. While a particular experience has happened and in some sense cannot be changed, it doesn’t mark the end of the resonance of that experience, nor does it represent any degree of finality in regard to the meaning that is derived from it. Unrequited love may yet become requited. Unrequited love may, and in some sense must provide the first sensation necessary in the introductory bittersweet melodic crescendo of love which ultimately culminates in the fulfillment of a masterful choral and harmonic movement. And even then, it will only be one of an infinite number of movements, stretching on to the eternities, each successive one building upon and enriching the former.
“There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1. There’s .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite collection of others. Of course, there is a bigger infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinites are bigger than other infinities. A writer we used to like taught us that. There are days, many of them, when I resent the size of my unbounded set. I want more numbers than I’m likely to get . . . I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I am grateful.” – John Green, The Fault in Our Stars.
Truly, I am part of all that I have met, and she a part of me, but:
 “yet all experience is an arch wherethro’
Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades
 For ever and forever when I move.”  - Ulysses, Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ulysses Heroic Journey
The Hopeful Heroic Heart

 Hank McCoy: “There’s a theory in quantum physics that time is immutable. It’s like a river – you can throw a pebble in and create a ripple, but the current always corrects itself. No matter what you do the river just keeps flowing in the same direction. . . what I’m saying is, what if the war is inevitable? What if this is simply who [we are]? 

Charles Xavier: “Just because someone stumbles and loses their way it doesn’t mean they’re lost forever. No, I don’t believe that theory . . . and I cannot believe that is who [we are].”

In Days of Future Past, a large portion of the story focuses on Dr. Charles Xavier’s past self’s struggle with loss of hope, depression, and apathy. Due to the events in the previous X-Men film (First Class) he had not only lost the use of his legs due to being shot in the spine, but also his closest childhood friend, to his emerging arch-enemy and his philosophy of fascistic mutant superiority. It is explained that over time, the school he and Hank McCoy (Beast) set up to take in mutants and give them a safe haven, an education, and proper moral and practical training, had lost students due to the Vietnam War draft. After losing all these things, Charles Xavier spirals into a deep depression and resorts to using a serum developed by Hank McCoy to suppress the mutant gene. The reason given is that Charles can no longer deal with the myriad voices constantly in his head due to his telepathic abilities. This compounded with his own personal loss, sense of failure, and feeling of lack of efficacy, he suppresses his powers and regains his ability to walk. But it is clear that he is not the man he was before, nor was he even a shadow of what he could or in the case of the future version of himself, what he would be. In the most pivotal and poignant scene of the movie, he is able to access Wolverine’s mind and cross into the future timeline and speak to his future self. His future self gives him counsel and most importantly a platform to air his true feelings. Up until that point Charles had been somewhat reticent about the nature of his problems and reasoning behind his reclusiveness. It is clear that he was struggling with some profound feelings and issues, but just exactly the true nature of what it is that he feared is not revealed until this scene. Young Charles explains that he does not want to feel the pain of others, as compounded with his own, because it is overwhelming, both in terms of actual lived sensation and experience, but also in conceptual reality. The literal weight of the world, as it were, appears to rest on the shoulders of men with great minds, both as a result of their own lofty ideals, dreams, and visions, and their noble and superior character. Men in this vein “dream things that never were and ask why not,” and also have the capabilities and capacities necessary to achieve them. This does not mean that such things could not or would not ever be difficult, taxing, or traumatic. Often those who dare to dream and to catalyze change on a paradigmatic level go through the most trying and self-sacrificial lives. Usually, they seal all that they have done and become with their very last breath and drops of blood. Young Charles, after seeing the future says “[s]o this is what becomes of us. Eric was right. Humanity does this to us.” To which his future self replies, “not if we show them a betterpath.” Young Charles asks if he “still believes.” Old Charles imparts one of the key words of wisdom that, “just because someone stumbles and loses their way, it doesn’t mean they’re lost forever. Sometimes we need a little help.” As if to defy the very future and the very course of human and natural progression of existence (like rebellious youngsters are wont to do) Young Charles retorts, “I’m not the man I was. I open my mind and it almost overwhelms me. In all those voices . . . so much pain.” The older future version of him then provides the needed perspective and words, “It’s not their pain you are afraid of. It’s yours Charles. And as frightening as it may be, their pain will make you stronger. If you allow yourself to feel it. Embrace it. It will make you more powerful than you ever imagined. It’s the greatest gift we have-to bear their pain without breaking. It’s born from the most human power-Hope. Please Charles; we need you to hope again.” The concept of hope and its necessary corollary of faith lies at the heart of the problems presented by pain rooted in a misunderstanding of time as linear and final. It is for this very reason that hope is often lost. When we feel pain whether inflicted up on us by ourselves or others, it is natural to shut off, shut down, close off, and protects oneself. The hard thing to do is to forgive yourself, others, and humanity itself. Pain itself is a reactive catalyzing force that presents an immediate choice dilemma. How will I react? There are certainly instinctive and reflexive responses that are tied to biologically determined processes but there remains an aspect of free-will and volition that lies at the heart of all human existence. We can exercise faith towards hope or not. Pain can unearth strength that was not previously available, simply because the oppositional forces had never been experienced. Once it has, and the proper perspective is recognized, the pain that seemed so debilitating can now become a source of immense emotional, rational, and willful compassion, love, and sacrifice. Because one has experienced the very depths of pain, one can then withstand it, weather it, turn it to something useful not only for oneself but for others who experience similar despair. But none of that may be done without the experience of pain, loss, and suffering, nor may that be done without the deliberate and conscious choice to do so. Movement must therefore be towards that which is ultimately unknown and such uncertainty is at the base of all human existence, as it is the catalyst of faith, whether chosen or not, whether sought or not, and whether ever fully realized. The requisite heroic characteristic is therefore faith and its corresponding hope in the possibility of as yet known futures past--ad infinitum.
“Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and Heaven, that which we are, we are--
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.” - Ulysses, Alfred Lord Tennyson


"Why are we World's Apart?"