goldeneagle2 said:I find the whole argument that morality doesn't exist in our daily lives to be pretty questionable, honestly. I mean, at its core, being human is about empathy—that basic connection to others—which naturally leads to the idea that we shouldn't go around causing unnecessary suffering. It’s pretty straightforward stuff; you’d get the same sentiment from Immanuel Kant as you would from Jesus—basically, don't do to others what you wouldn't want done to yourself. You don't really need a PhD to see that this is the foundation of goodwill. It’s a cardinal human value that drives progress and personal growth, or whatever. So, to me, morality isn't some abstract philosophical concept meant for high-society debates and salon arguments—it's just an everyday truth we live by.
This actually ties back to art, because that progressive way of behaving—you know, being rooted in truth and actual good intentions—eventually shows up in the filmmaking itself. If someone’s goal was clearly just to rake in a quick paycheck, then honestly, I don't even have anything left to say regarding the "artistic merit" of the project. It isn't just about whether the director nailed the technical minutiae—like, did the Romans hold their color formations correctly, did they have saddles, or were they sitting around eating ketchup and fries? No. It goes deeper than that. It bleeds into how shallow the emotional beats are, the character development, the pacing, the dialogue, all of it. One shallow deception leads to another, and you end up with a total pile of garbage that anyone with a shred of taste or intellect can barely stomach once, let alone ever watch again. Is that really the hallmark of a work of art, or is it just a failure? What exactly draws us back to a film like that? What feelings does it stir up in us? Nothing—maybe just a sense of disgust and a smirk.
The human mind—mostly because it’s wired to crave truth and basic morality—can sniff out a scam like this from a mile away. It doesn't just see through the deception; it genuinely despises it. If you look at the whole trajectory of human culture, it’s basically just one long, messy search for truth and justice—the everyday kind, sure, but also that deeper stuff that exists far beyond what we can actually wrap our heads around or put into words. Art is much the same way as mysticism—it's a path toward that state where the mind finally stops its endless, noisy chatter. To borrow a thought from Aristotle, art should be about catharsis—a real cleansing. It should strip away the mundane, the petty, and the profane, leaving a person in a state of genuine awe and bliss. Or at least, it should try to.
I still can't wrap my head around how someone who supposedly engages more seriously with these questions—despite all the modern ideas, from Karl Marx, Friedrich Nietzsche, and Sigmund Freud to the critical theory and psychoanalysis of the postmodernists—hasn't moved an inch away from a classic, Christian worldview. It's a view that treats the world with such simplistic black-and-white logic that reading such blatantly contradictory statements is, frankly, unbearable.
I’m not saying morality doesn't exist, but it certainly isn't practiced with any transparency. The world operates on a double strategy, layered with illusions and hidden desires, where the key lies in the subconscious of the public or the masses. While they identify with the reproduction of moral principles, they are simultaneously sabotaging them in their own subconscious.
There truly are no indicators to support what you are claiming. The system is amoral, and it achieves this precisely by explicitly declaring its morality. That is exactly what shields it from actual moral retribution. There is no genuine contempt, aside from the performative kind (where even the actors don't realize they are acting); there is no true practice of morality. Action is always dualistic—on the first level, we loudly proclaim our value system, and on the second level, we reject it.
It is immorality that society supports, protected by the illusion within us all that we are incredibly moral, that we care about things, that we care about others, that we care about truth and justice. Yet, all we see is the sabotage of every one of those principles. If the situation were as you describe, the world would look much different. George W. Bush wouldn't have had two terms, and movies driven by bad morals (distorting prejudices just to turn a profit) couldn't exist, considering Hollywood does exactly what the audience demands, thereby creating the very desire itself.
Things are not simple at all, and I suggest we avoid this debate here; let's not "pollute" the space with philosophy again.
This societal obsession with exposing and detecting everything—trying to uncover some "ultimate truth," trying to correct every injustice or inaccuracy regardless of the purpose, diving into the technical minutiae of every media project (like a film)—is a symptomatic effect that sabotages morality itself.
Instead of experiencing Gladiator in a way appropriate for a work of art—viewing it as a conceptualization of man and society through historical preconception—we sabotage that exact experience. We avoid it, forcing ourselves to view it merely as technical apparatus, searching for tiny flaws in its narrative machinery that are, in themselves, entirely irrelevant.
Where does the immorality lie then? Is it in the fact that the film isn't technically flawless, or is it in the fact that we now demand technicality from a film rather than substance?