Monty Python and Philosophy

by Gary L. Hardcastle

  But might the Pythons (along with other of postmodernism’s unwitting forerunners) have accomplished emotionally and in advance a major “postmodern” mission: the user-friendly—and also user-funny—domestication of “the death of God,” that is, the loss of God as a source for the meaning of life? This death could then be comfortably absorbed. And as “God” went down, so, as suggested above, would an inseparable companion and fellow-traveler: the notion of the meaning of life as a journey from here to someplace better.

  The Pythons have zanily guided us along this path, across this delightfully shallow water, from the need for deep things to the shallows of neat-because-silly things. It is no secret that the Pythons played especially well to intellectuals. Could this have been because it brought them down to earth, but in vocabulary and vignettes that were up to their standards? And when the Pythons brought such people to the point where they could not tell up from down, all could laugh. It was laughter stemming from knowing that neither mattered. It was neither here nor there. Was this perhaps because the weight of axial journeying had been lifted?

  The Pythons scrambled lots of things—people and situations. Maybe we must simply be humored into enjoying this. Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951) once remarked that those who seemed to have solved the riddle of life seldom had anything to say regarding what the riddle was. But Wittgenstein did not say that these liberated and “enlightened” ones didn’t laugh. Maybe that is exactly what they did. I’d like to suggest that their laughter was the very solution to that riddle of life they had pursued.

  This may come as a bit of a shock. But the fact that the meaning of life is not what it seems does not mean that, for the Pythons, there is no meaning to life. Nor, on the other hand, is there any indication in the Pythons that there is something we might call “the meaning of life.”

  I’d suggest that the Pythons help us to glide through the seriousness of theological atheism, past the mortuary of existential despair, to what some might call eliminative “comedyism.” There is no such word, but since we do need it, we’ll just go ahead and use it.

  Eliminative materialism is the view from which my analogy is drawn. And it is fairly well known. It simply—well, of course, nothing in the philosophy industry is simple—involves replacing words in your vocabulary that commit you to mind-body dualism, René Descartes’s (1596-1650) old problem, with words that do not. If you are thorough and complete in your switchings and really get the hang of these replacement words, the mind-body problem bothers you much, much less. If you come to forget the words these replacement words replace, you probably can no longer figure out what the mind-body problem actually is, except through some pretty serious scholarship. And you’re going to need a philosophical dictionary.

  Eliminative comedyism is much the same, except it is found less in replacement vocabularies than in altered reactions and responses. Is a major dimension of the “real” journey of life from piety to laughter? Thinking about it, neither too long nor “deeply,” what in fact could be meaningless about this? As the Pythons might suggest, such a conception is worth a chuckle or two. And such chuckles might serve as unexpectedly helpful hints regarding life after the meaning of life.

  Aspects of Pythonic Philosophy

  “No score, but there’s certainly no lack of excitement here . . . ”

  10

  God Forgive Us

  STEPHEN FAISON

  In Monty Python and the Holy Grail, King Arthur (Graham Chapman) and his Knights of the Round Table get into all sorts of comic trouble as they search for the sacred article. Why do they seek it? They have been commanded by God. According to the animated God, people have lost the sense of purpose to their lives. Arthur is to search for the Holy Grail and in doing so provide much needed inspiration to others.

  On the first leg of their journey Arthur and his knights reach a castle. Arthur announces himself to the guards as “King of the Britons,” and invites their master to join his holy mission. Unfortunately the spokesman for the castle guards (John Cleese) is not British. Even worse, he’s French! The Frenchmen snicker at Arthur’s invitation, and when the King threatens to enter by force in the name of God, they hurl nonsensical insults, then livestock. King Arthur is frustrated because his God, wearing a kingly crown, really did order the quest, and Arthur expects others to be moved by his holy authority. The reaction of Cleese and his mates illustrates how silly the mission seems to those who do not share Arthur’s beliefs. In order to accept Arthur’s claim, they must believe that God would command such a mission and enlist English “pig-dogs” to accomplish it. The Frenchmen are skeptical, to say the least.

  Scenes pertaining to religious belief in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Monty Python’s Life of Brian, and Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life raise the issue of God’s character, his behavior, and the role he plays in our lives. The need to speculate about God’s relationship with us almost seems unnecessary given the existence of the Holy Bible. The Bible not only contains alleged first-hand accounts of God, but actually features appearances by God Himself. The Christian theory of God establishes the deity through its story of the creation and its aftermath. According to the Christian narrative, a supernatural deity called God, “with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men,”55 created the heavens and the earth and human beings and other less important stuff. These human beings were given dominion over all living creatures. Humans were also given immortal souls and free will to choose good or evil. Of course, we screwed it up. Adam and Eve disobeyed orders, and they and their descendants were punished with mortality and condemned to toil the earth.56 Sometime later God issued a pardon in the form of His son, Jesus Christ, who would take the rap for human disobedience. Human beings could now receive salvation and eternal life in heaven, provided they repent their sins, ask God for mercy, acknowledge Jesus as the savior and live a life of submission to God. Even then they cannot be certain of admission to heaven, but can only hope to be judged worthy.

  The Christian account reveals a God who is in all ways perfect, yet displays some suspiciously human characteristics such as jealousy and anger. This presentation seems strange until we consider the possibility that man actually created God in his image. This alternative interpretation would explain why God exhibits these unflattering human traits. Nevertheless, certain Church doctrines are based on this truculent side of the Christian God, producing numerous and sundry thou-shalt-nots and relating the consequences for failing to comply. The Pythons have fun with human adherence to these doctrines and the fear they instill. God is always present, always watching, always judging, and penalties are severe. Arthur was quaking in his shoes at the mere appearance of God; imagine how frightened he must be about what may happen to him if he fails to accomplish his mission. By lampooning reactions to God’s omnipresence in our lives, the Pythons compel us to examine this relationship. Their gags perform a preliminary function of philosophy by challenging these doctrines, thereby setting the stage for critical analysis of certain assumptions and beliefs.

  During this discussion we shall be assisted occasionally by Socrates, the central character in Plato’s dialogues. Though Christianity is a revealed religion, significant aspects of Plato’s philosophy were adapted to Christian theology. There is, however, an important relevant difference. The god Socrates describes in Plato’s most popular dialogue, the Republic, is a rather abstract collection of perfect attributes detached from human affairs. The Christian God, on the other hand, represents the characteristics associated with fatherhood, and His human creations are described as His children. The Christian God is a loving provider and protector, but is also the ultimate authority, taskmaster, and disciplinarian. The Christian God is a personal god, intimately involved in the lives of His subjects. Christian doctrine expresses what it considers the proper relationship of God and human. Despite the kinship between Platonism and Christianity, Plato would probably agree with the Pythons that certain Christian doctrines and practices, when accepted and
followed uncritically, reflect poorly on us and God.

  In Alphabetical Order: Birth Control (and Other Intimate Matters)

  In Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life, a mill worker, played by Michael Palin, sadly announces to his numerous offspring that the mill is closed and there is no work. How will they survive? Palin must sell the children for scientific experiments. “Blame the Catholic Church for not letting me wear one of those little rubber things,” he tells the youngsters. Neither he nor their mother (Terry Jones!) can use contraception if they are to remain Catholic, “part of the fastest growing religion in the world.” He proceeds to explain, in song, what “we believe.”

  Every sperm is sacred,

  Every sperm is great.

  If a sperm is wasted,

  God gets quite irate.

  Let the heathen spill theirs

  On the dusty ground.

  God shall make them pay for

  Each sperm that can’t be found.

  According to this belief, God takes a keen interest in whether or not people have children. Apparently children are the means through which God replenishes his army. The notion that He becomes “quite irate” whenever sperm is “wasted” implies that God insists that people have children even when they can no longer afford to feed them, and will severely punish those who take measures to avoid conception. The alternatives He permits are to cease having sexual intercourse or be swiftly kicked out of the religion.

  As Palin’s children reluctantly trudge to the laboratory, a peering neighbor (Graham Chapman) explains to his wife (Eric Idle!) that “as members of the Protestant Reformed Church, which successfully challenged the autocratic power of the papacy in the mid-sixteenth century, we can wear little rubber devices to prevent issue.” In fact, Chapman continues, Martin Luther “may not have realized the full significance of what he was doing,” but the consequences of his actions are that “four hundred years later, thanks to him, my dear, I can wear whatever I want on my John Thomas.”

  So the Protestant Reformation was actually about contraception and personal sexual liberation. “That’s what being a Protestant is all about,” Chapman declares, “That’s why it’s the church for me. That’s why it’s the church for anyone who respects the individual and the individual’s right to decide for him or herself.” Protestants and Catholics, whatever their differences, apparently agree that God is very concerned about whether or not a man wears a condom.

  This scene illustrates that too much of God’s presence in sexual affairs is likely to, shall we say, take the lead out of the pencil. When Chapman explains that each time Catholics have relations they have to have a baby, Idle does not understand the difference between Catholics and Protestants like themselves, because, “we have two children and we’ve had sexual intercourse twice.” “That’s not the point,” Chapman responds. They could have “it” as much as they want, and furthermore Chapman could purchase products intended to enhance pleasure. Idle’s temperature rises at the prospect, but he soon realizes, probably for the zillionth time, that all this talk about God is cold water on the fire.

  This assertion of God’s concern about reproduction suggests that He spends much of His time voyeuristically observing the sexual practices of His human creations. Before you accuse God of perversion, realize that He has little choice but to spy if He is to know which members of His flock are guilty of naughtiness. If the Catholic position is correct, God must watch sexual preliminaries for possible application of contraceptive devices. Even if Chapman’s Protestant viewpoint is right, God still must go “undercover” to monitor copulation for unauthorized positions (any but missionary) and for the proper number of persons (two), sexes (one male and one female)57 and marital status (married) of participants. God must also ensure that couples are not “doing it” too frequently or making too much noise during the proceedings, since these infractions would undermine the dignity and holy purpose of screwing. The Pythons ask us to consider the consequences of the belief that God cares about reproductive practices and sees everything. If so, then he watches our sexual activities. The attractiveness, endowments and skills of a given couple no doubt affects the quality of the viewing experience, but Christians must concede that all things considered, this is one of God’s less onerous responsibilities.

  Blasphemy (Name-Calling: With Sticks and Stones to Break Your Bones)

  In Monty Python’s Life of Brian an old man is to be stoned by a crowd impatient to hurl their rocks. The condemned man cries out that he only meant to compliment his wife’s cooking when he said “that piece of halibut was good enough for Jehovah.” As soon as the mob hears the name “Jehovah,” one of them strikes the old man with a stone. The official in charge (John Cleese) chastises the offender and commands the group to allow the charges to be heard. When he further instructs them not to react when hearing the name “Jehovah” until the proceedings are concluded, he too is struck. One of the offenders (Eric Idle) defends his action, saying to Cleese, “After all, you did say ‘Jehovah,’” and Idle is also assaulted. Each time the name “Jehovah” is spoken, however inadvertently, rocks fly.

  The uncivilized may view the stoning of blasphemers as despicable violence, but it is actually a religious duty. After all, the condemned man’s statement that the halibut served was “good enough for Jehovah” clearly uses the Lord’s name for some purpose other than reverence or worship. “What’s a little blasphemy?” you may ask. The old man’s statement may seem like a minor infraction, but remarks like this are the marijuana of blasphemy: they lead to more serious usage. For example, people who say “Jesus H. Christ” know Goddamn well that “H” is not His middle initial. And even though God is peeping, it is not appropriate to call out “Oh, God!” during sexual intercourse.58 So, there is no such thing as a “little” blasphemy. Stoning, then, is an ancient form of intervention meant to save blasphemers from bringing down the wrath of God. The punishment may seem severe, but if stoning saved just one life, wouldn’t it be worth it?

  All seriousness aside, the Python’s sketch encourages us to reflect upon how absurd the policy of punishing blasphemers becomes in practice, when an old man is to be stoned to death for complimenting his wife’s dinner and others are battered for accidentally saying “Jehovah.” Apparently God is highly offended by these slights. To accept this view the believer must suppose that God heard the old man’s compliment and said to himself, “Well, I’ll be damned. I provide the halibut, the seasoning, the fire, and the cook gets all the credit. All she did was shove the darn thing into the oven, which I also provide, by the way. I tell you, I don’t get no respect.” Believers eager to punish transgressors evidently judge the All-Mighty incapable of handling these insults Himself. According to this view, God sanctions stoning and perhaps enjoys the spectacle as much as the participants who treat them as amusements not to be missed.

  Socrates would no doubt take a dim view of this treatment of blasphemy. Blasphemy is a form of impiety or sinfulness and includes any false representation of the gods. In Plato’s Republic, Socrates discredits the work of Homer which depicts the gods acting out of anger, jealousy or pettiness. Socrates contends that the gods, as perfect beings, do not so conduct themselves, and therefore any such portrayal must be false. According to Socrates’s usage, blasphemy involves words which reflect negatively on the gods, particularly if such language is offered in the name of the gods. The condemned man in Monty Python’s Life of Brian is not guilty of blasphemy properly defined, and the mob’s definition has been inappropriately stretched to include simply uttering His name. To say that God authorizes punishment for such usage of His name is to portray God as arrogant and nasty. On Socrates’s account, the stoning citizens are guiltier of blasphemy than those they punish since their actions, performed in God’s name, present an image unbecoming to God.

  Heaven (Capitalize for Effect)

  Toward the end of Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life three freshly dead couples are led to Heaven. They are greeted with “M
erry Christmas” as they check-in at the front desk. Is it Christmas? Well, you see, every day is Christmas in Heaven. This seems reasonable since one might expect that in Heaven believers eternally celebrate the birth of Christ, who made their salvation possible. The guests are seated and the master of ceremonies (Graham Chapman) is introduced to the soft strains of “Silent Night.” This is a “wonderful, warm and emotional moment,” he says, and begins the song “Christmas in Heaven.” The musical tempo increases and showgirls appear in red suits and caps. Chapman sings that in Heaven it snows above their heads but the weather is warm down below. There are great films on TV, toiletries and games, all that anyone could possibly desire. Surprised? As it happens, Christmas in Heaven is Santa Claus Christmas.

  This scene presents Heaven as a place filled with earthly rewards, and is a comic depiction of the conflation of religious and commercial versions of Christmas. Some religious hymns describe Heaven as the land of milk and honey, with streets paved with gold. This conception of Heaven conveys that even Christians do not believe the religious life has sufficient intrinsic value to motivate moral behavior. The sketch suggests that believers do not actually renounce their sinful appetites for worldly pleasures, but hope that by restraining themselves on earth they will receive an unlimited supply of material goods and services in the afterlife. The scene implies that God, as the architect of Heaven, understands human nature and has material compensation waiting up there for His followers. If Heaven was not always this way, apparently even God could no longer bear to watch the disappointment of those who discover that their Heavenly reward amounts only to eternal communion with Him.