The Ark and The Dove

My Glenn Beck Moment

I was flipping through Proverbs tonight and was struck by 1:26. If you read it out of context, the NAB translation is kind of chilling. I'll italicize the line for you:

Wisdom cries aloud in the street, in the open squares she raises her voice;
Down the crowded ways she calls out, at the city gates she utters her words:
"How long, you simple ones, will you love inanity,
how long will you turn away at my reproof?
Lo! I will pour out to you my spirit,
I will acquaint you with my words.
"Because I called and you refused,
I extended my hand and no one took notice;
Because you disdained all my counsel, and my reproof you ignored--
I, in turn, will laugh at your doom;
I will mock when terror overtakes you;
When terror comes upon you like a storm, and your doom approaches like a whirlwind;
when distress and anguish befall you..."

Obviously, when the NAB translators worked on this text, they did not intend to the word "terror" to carry with it images of bearded men hijacking planes or strapping bombs to their chest. However, our current climate makes it almost impossible for me to think of terror without thinking of terrorism. Oh, deconstruction, you have such a clever way with words.

I'm calling this my Glenn Beck moment because stumbling upon these lines again immediately brought to mind the current fears and turmoil in the country, our complicity in these troubles, and the way in which the text offers a religious method to avoid those troubles.

Let's get something straight, though. I'm calling this my Glenn Beck moment, not my Pat Robertson moment. Someone like Robertson might suggest that our troubles are a punishment from God (I'm thinking of his ridiculous profession regarding the earthquake in Haiti).

It's important to keep in mind that the speaker in the passage above is Wisdom. Now, God is all wise, and Wisdom is a gift of the Holy Spirit, but the impression in this text is that Wisdom is more of an allegorical figure than a theological one. Wisdom is not saying, "If you disagree with me, I will smite you." Rather, Wisdom is saying that to leave her is, literally, foolish. The woes that befall the foolish are not retribution; they are not artificially constructed punitive measures imposed directly by a social institution. The suffering of the fool is often nothing more than the natural consequence of their actions.

The problem of living in a world of fools is that the consequences of a fool's actions are just as likely to visit the fool's neighbor.

Obama and the Muslim Thing

Some statistics are making the Internet rounds claiming that one-fifth of Americans believe the president is a muslim.

And, of course, this is getting blamed on conservatives.

Really?

First of all, I wonder how we know that the statistics are accurate. If people are willing to claim to be Jedi to make a political statement on census forms, then I'm pretty sure a large portion of a disgruntled population is willing to intentionally get this answer wrong just to make a point. How many people checked off "Obama is a muslim" merely to express a feeling that Obama has been soft on Islamic terrorism?

I dunno.

What I also don't know is who is really propagating the idea. A NYTimes op-ed is bubbling up from about two years ago which argues that Obama is technically an apostate muslim according to Islamic law since his father was a Muslim despite Obama's acceptance of Christianity.

But the vast majority of chatter I seem to be finding on this article is that liberal sources are accusing amorphous, uncited conservative bloggers for disseminating the "Obama is a Muslim" belief.

Is it possible that misinformation on Obama's wishy-washy form of faith life is actually the fault of liberal media reporting on the confusion itself? Are Americans who believe that Obama is a practicing muslim drawing the conclusion based on conservative sources, or based on what liberal sources say that conservative sources say?

Is there a kind of media reverse-psychology? What if every time a conservative hears a liberal pundit complain about conservatives believing that Obama is a muslim, some conservative out there thinks it must be true merely because the liberal pundit is claiming it to be a conservative lie?

For the record, I don't think Obama is Islamic. I think he's a nominal Christian who doesn't really understand Christianity. It's a religion of the Word, not the TXT...and I'm not sure a Blackberry really cuts it in the end.

And on a similar note, I'm having a hard time finding conservatives who don't think the Cordoba group has a legal right to build its sensationalist and controversial mosque. It kind of annoys me to hear liberals make the constitutional argument, when I don't seem to run into many conservative disagreeing with them on that front. This isn't a can or can't debate...it's a should or shouldn't.

Best Buy Comedy Section on Clearance

Evidently, the PR reps at Best Buy have absolutely no sense of humor.

FoxNews is reporting that a Catholic Priest received a cease-and-desist order after Best Buy learned he had a "GodSquad" logo on his black VW Beetle. The logo is an obvious parody of the "GeekSquad" operation that Best Buy runs.

The priest seemed to have been gracious about it, and ceased and desisted without complaint.

I'm sure an entrepreneurial lawyer could make the case that the priest's sticker was protected under fair use and parody, but the last thing the parish probably needs is to have a priest in court.

Anyway, someone should start a letter campaign to Best Buy telling them to get a life...or maybe just a soul...or possibly just a funny bone.

Really, Best Buy...did you think someone was going to invite the priest in to bless their blu-ray player by mistake? Or are you suggesting that an indirect, parodic association with the Catholic Church would sully your reputation?

WWJD?

You know, the real problem with people making the appeal of "What would Jesus do?" is that no one is really asking the question seriously.

The implication is that you are asking "What would Jesus do if he were in your position?", and then assume that Jesus is limited to your resources.

But Jesus wasn't limited to our resources.

He performed miracles and wonders.

It seems that a lot of arguments about immigration reform attempt to appeal to Christian charity, as if Jesus would either side with a liberal laissez faire for the law in favor of taking care of the desperate or with the strict, conservative, legalistic approach.

Really, Jesus probably wouldn't do either. He'd probably go hang out in Mexico for a while, heal the sick, and multiply loaves and fishes for thousands of starving people before the ever got around to crossing the border. Jesus probably wouldn't even set foot in the USA, because we are pretty much the modern equivalent of ancient Rome -- relatively wealthy, advanced, and living pretty cushy lives on the whole. Mexico, though, with its corruption and poverty, probably looks a heckuvalot more like ancient Israel under Roman occupation.

This isn't to say that he'd be siding with illegal immigrants from Mexico, per se. If, for some reason, he found himself in Arizona or Texas, he'd probably feed them and whatnot, but I don't think he'd side with them. Remember, when he had his chat with the Samaritan woman, he didn't congratulate her on her fortitude and her diversity. He acknowledged the Samaritans as being misguided expatriates of the Jewish nation -- but that didn't mean he hated them or was xenophobic.

The question "WWJD?" falls apart in a political context. Whereas the liberal answer would be "feed the people," it ignores the fact that Jesus could spontaneously generate food. When liberals think Jesus would heal the sick, they forget that Jesus didn't need to distribute a limited amount of medical resources in a fair and reasonable manner.

What's in a Name?

via Drudge

The Washington Post is running an article on the FDA's approval of a new "emergency contraception" that works for up to five days after sexual intercourse. It's actually one of the most balanced pieces I've ever seen from the Washington Post, including concerns that the drug could function as an abortifacient (but no one knows if this actually happens), as well as alleged concerns people are having that men could slip this into women's drinks -- just to be safe.

As if the possibility of abortion weren't disturbing enough, the street name for this drug is the rather deceptive appellation of "ella." This is a pleasant sounding word, sounds like a character from a young adult novel, and also happens to be the Spanish word for "she."

I'm going to predict that someone will suggest the name exposes some kind of Margaret Sanger racism -- that "ella" appears just when the country is worried about illegal immigrants reproducing. After all, as the Post piece observes, ella's official drug status might make it available for federal funding. So why not dump a couple of bags on those poor, helpless, immigrants, and help them live a better, more affluent, childless life in America. Liberals will probably think this is a way to quell the fears of conservatives.

Scott Pilgrim vs. The Movie

Isabel and I checked out the Scott Pilgrim movie tonight.

As a film, it was one of the most engrossing spectacles I have ever scene. Edgar Wright outdid himself in creating a live-action comic book. The special effects are seamless and practically charactesr unto themselves...without being an actual character. It's not like Jar Jar Binks shows up or anything. Actually, the effects such as floating text are pretty crucial to the movie -- not just as background either. Characters actually interact with them in direct, meaningful ways. The video game pop-up graphics are as central to the movie as they are to an actual video game.

The movie also seems to tone down some of the issues I had with the book series, although I suspect this was more in the interest of time than bowdlerization. 

There is still a lot of sex going on offscreen, and Pilgrim's gay roommate Wallace always has at least one new guy in his bed every scene set in their apartment. Scott and Ramona's first night together might also show more skin than you'd feel comfortable seeing on the screen during a first date (either yours or the characters'), but it was really no worse than what you'd see walking by the Victoria Secret in any mall. And the film playfully bleeps out severely inappropriate language.

If you can tolerate the licentiousness in a handful of scenes, you'll probably enjoy the movie greatly. You'll probably enjoy it more if you've read the books and if you can catch all the video game references, but Isabel claimed to have have appreciated the movie without extensive knowledge of either graphic novels or Final Fantasy or Street Fighter.

It's also one of the rare films where the discrepancies between the source and film versions all make sense and might even be improvements. Unlike other geeky adaptations like the Lord of the Rings, I didn't feel like anything in the story was critically lost or that any of the characters behaved other than they should have. And the film seems self-conscious of the changes. There is a scene where Scott's band performs in a venue that did not occur in the comic, and the lead singer says "We shouldn't even be here." I felt like it might have been a meta-dramatic reference. It actually reminded me of when Sam and Frodo say the same thing as Faramir drags them to Gondor. However, when the changes happen in Scott Pilgrim, they are believable changes that do not seem to rely on choices that break the character's original personality.

If there is a change of character, it might be that Scott comes off as a little more identifiable or likeable than in the comics, mostly because the truncated narrative allows him to make fewer awful mistakes with his life and to say fewer dopey things. The Scott we see in the movie is almost always Scott with Ramona, which is generally when he is at his best -- perhaps speaking to the transcendental nature of love as discussed in my previous post.

So, two-NES-controller-calloused thumbs up from me.

If you've ever imagined your life in terms of 16-bit adventure, you owe it to yourself to see this movie.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about in the previous sentence, then just go and enjoy the eye-candy.

Thumbs Up, Roger Ebert

Roger Ebert posted a fairly compelling reflection on his time spent in Catholic grade school.

You might not agree with everything he says, but it's a fair, balanced, and heartfelt piece. It definitely makes old-fashioned Catholic grade school seem like a more effective educational environment than today's pedagogical playgrounds if nothing else.

The Pelosi Creed

If you are reading this blog, then you have probably already seen the awesome video of CNS reporter and fellow Catholic Terp, Jane McGrath, awesomely asking the definitely not-awesome Nancy Pelosi an awesome question about when Jesus would have acquired the right to life. Ms McGrath framed her question by asking at what moment when "The Word was made flesh" would it be protected -- alluding to Pelosi's prior comments about how much she loves "The Word."

Pelosi's slippery evasion was a weak reply. She said that everyone bows his head when they talk about the Word becoming flesh in Church, and that's where she wanted to restrict the conversation.

So much for carrying the spirit Eucharist out of the Mass.

Anyway, this exachange prompted Isabel to snoop around the missalette during one of the longer choir pieces this Sunday. She noticed that the Nicene creed (which we assumed was the part of Mass that Pelosi referred to) reads as follows:

For us men and our salvation He came down from heaven: by the power of the Holy Spirit, He was born of the Virgin Mary , and became man.

If this translation is read in the literal fashion of a college undergraduate (Isabel's metaphor), it might well be that Nancy Pelosi could excuse her ignorance. This translation, as structured, could suggest a chronological cause-and-effect. (Again, Isabel noticed this, not me.) By stating Christ was born first and became man second, it might sound as if there is an implied "then" statement. "He was born of the Virgin Mary, and then or therefore became man."

This is obviously a false interpretation, but it would be a fairly easy and natural mistake to make.

Shockingly enough, the Protestants actually seem to use a translation that would make things clearer for Pelosi.

From the The Lutheran Book of Worship, The Book of Common Prayer (Episcopal):

by the power of the Holy Spirit
he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary,
and was made man.

English Language Liturgical Commission translation:

he came down from heaven,
was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary
and became truly human.

The major difference here seems to be that Catholic translations use the verb "born" whereas Protestants use "incarnate." Unfortunately, I'm not the blogger to know which one is a more literal translation. The differences are great, however. In common use, "born" generally calls to mind the act of childbirth itself. This isn't necessarily the only meaning of "born", however. In a more archaic use, "born" is a past conjugation of "to bear" which is not necessarily restricted to the act of birthing itself. It can refer more widely to carrying an object or person, or, more figuratively, to enduring a hardship. For Christ to be "born of Mary" does not restrictively suggest only that he exited her body but that he was carried by her body. It implies the incarnation. Nor does the conjunction "and" necessarily imply sequential chronology. Rather, the prayer ought to be suggesting that the "power of the Holy Spirit" was responsible for two things a) Mary carrying Christ, and b) Christ becoming man. That one is mentioned before the other does not necessarily mean there must be a sequence (although it could be misconstrued so).

If I say, "The power of my singing gave me pleasure and caused suffering to others," this does not imply that others suffered because I experienced pleasure, but rather that the power of my singing caused both things simultaneously.

I have no idea if Pelosi was even thinking of the creed when she gave her answer, but our translation certainly doesn't make things as clear as it could...and I can imagine losing a debate with a literalist if I appealed to the Nicene Creed.

Scott Pilgrim vs. Peter Terp

I read through the final volume of the Scott Pilgrim saga today.

Overall, it is a very witty comic, and it does a very sharp job of capturing the transitional phase from twenties into thirties in Western, anglophone culture. In that sense, it is a kind of "arrested development" late-bildungsroman tale that I believe crystalized with Simon Pegg/Edgar Wright's Spaced series and their more internationally-received film Shaun of the Dead. Perhaps this is why Wright was the man to make the film adaptation of Scott Pilgrim. Anyway, it seems like every other story being pumped out of media is about arrested development these days.

I'll try to avoid major spoilers, but the general plot of the comic book is that a fairly shiftless, aimless, and amnesiac 23-year old, Scott Pilgrim, encounters the girl of his dreams, Ramona...literally, in his dreams. He then finds out she is real and embarks on an epic quest to woo her. When I say "epic," I mean epic in terms of the only epics that modern young men really understand: video game RPG adventures. In fact, the main gimmick of the entire comic is a kind of magic realism where the video games that so absorb Pilgrim's life are manifest in the reality surrounding him. They become a kind of literal metaphor as Scott Pilgrim discovers he must vanquish Ramona's previous "evil ex-boyfriends", each of whom is increasingly more powerful and difficult to battle than the previous one.

Gone is the age of Homeric allusion. Forgotten are Olympus and Xanadu. These are the days of the Mushroom Kingdom, Hyrule, and whatever strange setting Final Fantasy uses.

Gone are the sonnet and the epithalamion.

This is the era of fan fiction and sprite comics.

This leads to "Family Guy"-style rewards for the reader who feels a geeky cleverness for catching the sometimes obvious and sometimes subtle pop culture allusions.

Don't be mistaken by the Super Mario references and the big-eyed cartoon characters, though. This is not an appropriate series for kids or even teenagers. The comic's juvenile form reflects the painfully immature nature and psychologically malnourished nature of its characters.

Still, there is a heart to Scott Pilgrim that redeems it from being merely a collage of pop culture references and tropes.

But I'm afraid it is a heart that might suffer from a congenital disease.

Scott Pilgrim is ultimately a love story -- almost soap opera in nature -- wrapped in a sweet, crunchy, geeky shell. I'm worried, though, what else might be in there...or rather...what else might not be in there.

I was just complaining in an e-mail yesterday that the Scott Pilgrim comics largely fail to sustain any kind of internal morality. This was before I had gotten to volume five, in which Scott Pilgrim learns he might be a "bad person." I'm not sure that Pilgrim takes this to mean much more than he might be a "bad guy" -- that is a "villain" in only the crudest, WB cartoon sense of the word.

Morality seems to be the morality of video games -- the protagonist is the "good guy", everyone else is either an NPC or an obstacle to be overcome. Perhaps the author, Bryan Lee O'Malley, intends the comic to be a commentary on the shallowness of modern life. I don't know.

The only redeeming thing left is love, and in this there might be hope for the tale. Deus est caritas.

Scott Pilgrim is willing to sacrifice for love. He is willing to suffer for love. He is willing...at times...to forgive for love. Those are all good things.

But love is often reduced to its erotic components in the tale. Pretty much every major character -- and even many of the minor characters -- has an unqualified homosexual experience over the course of the saga. That's a lot of gay cartooning. One gets the sense that 85% of the Canadian population is bisexual or has at least made out with someone of the same sex in a moment of drunkenness. No questioning the morality or implications. Just lots of girl on girl and guy on guy action.

While I've never really jumped through a warp door or actually battled Japanese robots, but I actually found those moments in the story to be more believable and recognizable than the gay moments. There just seemed so much gayness.

Maybe I just never got out much as a twenty-year old. Maybe all of my friends will anonymously comment on the blog and tell me that they've been secretly having gay make out sessions behind my back and I never knew.

I suppose I'm dwelling quite a bit on the gay parts, which I guess might make me sound like one of those homophobic rightwing nutjobs, but it did seem to me like there was an agenda going on to desensitize readers. "It's all just love," the comic seems to say. "It's all the same. It's all equivalent. what's the big deal?"

It makes me think the comic itself doesn't have a very mature view on love.

It's never even particularly clear what is motivating Scott Pilgrim's love other than the fact Ramona was in his dreams. That is authentic enough -- the emotional component of love doesn't really need an explanation. But when we encounter Volume 4: Scott Pilgrim Gets it Together, we discover that, for Canadians at least, getting it together seems to involve getting a day job so you can bring something to the table when you move in with your girlfriend. To me, that would be a very ironic way to "get it together." Maybe I'm a lone voice in the wilderness.

Love in Scott Pilgrim is almost always romance. It is almost always a nearly instinctive appetite for an ineffable emotion. It is the closest thing to God that the characters have...but the love in this comic is incomplete.

In the end, my assessment of Scott Pilgrim is that it does a very effective job of capturing the world of the modern young materialist. Without a deep, religious mythology, the characters are pretty much left to their own devices. They sense very little that is bigger than themselves. They have no sense of real otherworldliness...except in love. For the most part, love in Scott Pilgrim becomes an idle pastime...high school crushes and gossip that spills over into the early twenties and makes one feel like they did more with their day than play video games. Maybe, just maybe, Scott Pilgrim gets a glimpse of the divine through love -- but if he does, he doesn't seem to realize it.