FEED ME! (Becoming an Adventurer Part I)

I spend a lot of time in video stores. I have probably spent hours upon hours in them; perhaps even as much time as a stay at home parent might spend at their local grocery store. This never struck me as abnormal until a day ago.

After 3 fun filled weeks with family and friends, the last week of my winter break was upon me and my family had all but returned to their everyday routine. Dad was back at work, the girls were headed out of town and my mom and her own dad were headed on a short holiday to DC. For the first time in 3 whole weeks I was going to be on my own again. Naturally I didn’t want to spend the majority of the next 48 hours alone in a big empty house, so I hit the town.

In between lunch and heading to a movie theater, I stopped in an FYE (For Your Entertainment). It is one of the largest I have ever been in, and I used to frequent it when I was a permanent fixture of the Hampton Roads area. Upon walking in I stopped and felt suddenly overwhelmed. It might have been that I was tired, or maybe I have just been hypersensitive about entertainment lately; but for whatever reason, when I walked in the door, I lost all desire to look for individual items, whether they were movies, music or video games. I was suddenly looking at the store as a whole, and all I could say was:

“Why?”

Why do we need stores that have as large a variety of movies as we do of food? In fact, there was probably a larger variety of sitcoms on DVD in that store than there are kinds of produce at the Farm Fresh around the corner.

Dizziness overwhelmed me as I realized that I had been part of this. I suck in movies often without thinking. Sure, I keep up a veneer of holiness to hide how much I am consuming, but that is something akin to a man who is 200 pounds overweight telling you that he only eats so much because he wants to tell you what kinds of food are good. He is not a cook, he is not demonstrating that he has actually learned anything about good food or how to make it… only that he enjoys eating and he does it with disregard to how it is effecting him.

The scary thing is that in America the way food and movies are sold and consumed is not so different anymore. A shiny, glossy cover can make a tidy little profit whether it’s carrots or Caddyshack. People buy Ho Hos and porn for the same reason… they taste good, even if they both make you feel like you want to vomit an hour after consumption. What is scarier is that an HBO show can now become “critically acclaimed” simply by containing gratuitous amounts of violence and sex, causing it be suddenly be “edgy” and/or “gritty,” even though underneath all that it is just another soap opera. This has already begun to bleed over into the world of food, with foods that are absolutely crap for you to eat getting actual stickers that proclaim that they have received awards like “BEST TASTING” or “CHIEFS’ CHOICE AWARD.” Yes… things are getting that ridiculous.

Just today I was returning some things to a Best Buy around the corner from me and got suckered into that very “ooh! Shiny!” syndrome that we all fall into so easily in the internet age. Do I not know that Satan is the Prince of Light? Do I not know that covers deceive? “That sin looks so hot!” one might say. And Mark Driscoll might retort: “Yeah… but so is hell.”

Anyway, I had all this money from the returns, so my consumeristic self decided that I show blow the money immediately. On what? Is always the next question. Well, it was new release Tuesday. (Yes, I am so consumed with my need for new stuff that I know that in the USA new movies, music and books are always released on Tuesdays.) The new HBO show Boardwalk Empire had just been released on DVD and a free preview of the show Game of Thrones came with it for a limited time. The covers looked pretty, Steve Buscemi was in it, it had won 8 Emmys. It must be good… right? RIGHT?

Well, I bought it and took it home, only to look up the content rating in IMDB. The show was filled with foul language… more than most R rated movies contain, full frontal nudity (male and female), and buckets of blood and brain bashing. On an HBO show? No way? You’ve gotta be joking! (/sarcasm)

I promptly went back and returned the DVD set and got the movie Moon instead, which I had actually been looking for for months and which was nowhere near an impulse buy. It still might have been better had I simply returned Boardwalk Empire and walked right out of the store, but there you have it.

And now I’m sitting here still thinking, “Why? Why has this been so important to me? How on earth did I let my standards drop so much? I almost exposed myself to… ick.”

And then I think a little bit more and I realize that I have been living vicariously through storytellers… like many of my peers have. We are too afraid to have our own adventures, so we watch other peoples’. And suddenly I come to a simple and yet monumental conclusion: it is time for me to have my own adventure.

A Loss of Confidence

"The authorities were not what they claimed to be. The cool competence and the stoicism were a fraud. The catastrophe of the Suez episode in 1956, when our governing class had tried to behave like imperial rulers in Egypt and had fallen flat upon their faces, had shrunk them and weakened their power to command. The government had sought to abuse (as later governments would also abuse) the semi-sacred incantations of 1940: Egypt's leader, Gamel Abdel Nasser, was a "dictator." Acceding to his demands for control of the Suez Canal was "appeasement." As we have found so often since, these modern villains are not Hitlers, and their ill-armed backward nations are not the Third Reich."

-Peter Hitchens in The Rage Against God, pg 32

An Epic of Epic Epicness, or Why Scott Pilgrim is Better Than 99% of All the Other Comic Books Out There

Last night I went to the midnight release of the sixth and final book in the Scott Pilgrim series, and spent exactly $12.71 on the little digest sized comic book. 250 pages of black and white comic goodness were now in my hands. After an episode with some Scottish bikers on walk back to my apartment (another story for another time), I sat down and devoured the book in a mere 45 minutes. The ending was very satisfying for me; it ended much better than I had hoped… although, after my recent brush with Fullmetal Alchemist, I must admit that I was keeping my expectations pretty low. But after the last page had been read, I started thinking: “what is so great about Scott Pilgrim? Why did I… DO I enjoy his story so much?”

A few weeks ago, I got a call from my dad. We talked about the usual stuff; what am I doing with my life, how’s getting a job going, etc. Then towards the end, he asked me out of the blue (well, perhaps not out of the blue as my profile picture on Facebook at the time was a Scott Pilgrim avatar), why I liked Scott Pilgrim so much. I mumbled some response about how it was just “one of those dumb things.” I suppose that I genuinely thought that at the time; that I thought there was nothing really substantive about Scott Pilgrim, that it was just a goofy story that was fairly harmless, and that there were a lot of worse things I could be doing with my time. However, once I finished the last chapter, appropriately titled “Scott Pilgrim’s Finest Hour,” I began to reassess that opinion.

Scott Pilgrim is a lot more than just a dumb story to me, because he is someone that I relate very closely with. In a lot of ways Scott Pilgrim’s life is my life, except with more Canadians and Kung Fu.

Now, I know that several of you are looking forward to see the movie next month, so let me put down and nice big

(SPOILER WARNING!!!!!!)

The first reason that Scott Pilgrim is so much better than all the other comics out there is very neatly summed up in my roommate’s complaint against most modern pop culture today: its fascination with being “DARK AND GRITTY.” It’s very amusing to me that my roommate gets so angry when any story tries to be all relevant by being dark and, well, gritty. “Why can’t we have happy stories?!” he’ll say. “I want fiction to be diverting, not show me how much life sucks!!” Well, Scott Pilgrim strikes that precious balance between being true to real life, while still being light hearted and hopeful. It doesn’t betray you with a crappy “oh, sorry, life really DOES suck in the end” kind of ending. (I’m lookin’ at YOU Joss Whedon!) But it does touch on heartbreak and what it means to make up for your mistakes.

Now that I’ve gone on and on for a while, I should probably explain the main plot to those of my readers who are not familiar with Scott Pilgrim. Scott Pilgrim lives in Toronto, can’t keep a girlfriend OR a job, and is living on his parents dime in a super crappy apartment with his gay roommate Wallace Wells (with whom he shares a totally platonic relationship). Scott is a lazy bum who regularly sleeps in until noon or later. At one point in the series, Wallace says: “So, I was going to do you a favour and make dinner, but it appears that all you have in the house is ramen noodles and cereal.” To which Scott mumbles: “…..the EconOmY…..”

So while Scott was indeed a loser, from book one I felt like we were best of friends and already knew each other; a chemistry between character and reader that most authors spend years perfecting.

Halfway though the first book, Scott Pilgrim meets Ramona Victoria Flowers, the American ninja delivery girl. Ramona is amazing and mysterious and, well, dangerous. Scott is toast. After discovering that Ramona works as a delivery girl for Amazon.ca, Scott orders something and waits. Upon delivering his package, Scott asks Ramona out on a date. Although a little creeped out, Ramona accepts. But little does Scott know the baggage Ramona is carrying. He soon finds out that in order for him and Ramona to find their happily-ever-after, he must defeat her seven evil exes in hand to hand combat.

Suddenly what started as a rather funny romantic comedy turns into a wacky blend of Friends, Mario Brothers, manga and Street Fighter. A discussion about someone’s feelings will be interrupted by a robot attack, a party will be crashed by a boss battle, a walk down main street will erupt into a sword fight.

This line between the mundane and the fantastical is explained by author Bryan Lee O’Malley: “ It's (what actually happened in the story) just not what he (Scott Pilgrim) thought. It's that his own narration of his own life is unreliable to himself, and he just was tricking himself. I think we all do that.” (For the rest of the interview, click here) It’s revealed that most of the story is what Scott Pilgrim THINKS is going on around him, not necessarily what is ACTUALLY happening.

But by the end of book 5, things are not going well for Scott by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, the books ends with the words “GAME OVER” scrawled across the page. Ramona has left him, his friends are gone, and the final villain seems nearly impossible to defeat. After the all ups and downs of the past four books, Scott is right back where he started: alone, jobless and depressed. Except this times it’s worse, because he’s tasted a bit of what it’s like to be happy, and he doesn’t know how to get back there.

Book six opens with that depression still present. In fact, Scott is dreaming again (he does a lot of that), but this time, instead of dreaming about Zelda and being Link, he dreams that all his ex-girlfriends turn into monsters and try to eat him. Yeah, Scott is having a tough time. Lost and confused, Scott wanders around bumping into his old friends and has to deal with his past mistakes; mistakes that up until this point in the series he has not only ignored, but made up fictions about in order to forget how things actually happened. How many of us have done the exact same thing? Painting someone else as the villain, so that we don’t have to admit that we were the ones who screwed up.

At the same time, it is revealed that Ramona is dealing with her own demons and insecurities. She, unlike Scott, is SO stuck in her past and her own mistakes that it’s crippling her. She doesn’t feel like she even deserves Scott, who is the biggest loser known to mankind.

Finally, through a weird chain of events involving a desert, an extra life, a nightclub, a purse and a katana, Scott and Ramona end up alone together in a netherworld. They finally come to terms with their mistakes, apologize and forgive each other, before going back to the real world to defeat the last boss, Gideon.

At the very end, after all the loose ends have been tied up, Scott and Ramona are left looking at each other.

“So,” Scott says.

Ramona: “So?”

“So… we try again.”

And with that, they dive off into the deep unknown.

In the end, Scott Pilgrim isn’t a dumb story after all. It’s is a classic story: it’s the story of winning the girl, fighting your demons, learning from your mistakes, asking for forgiveness, and letting the power of true love, agape love, conquer all.

It’s a story we can all relate to. It’s the story of becoming an adult.

Capital

Politics scare me… so does the internet, put them together and what have you got? Bibity-bobity-bad-news.

Explanation: I don’t remember WHY I did this, but for some reason I decided to “become a fan” of “being conservative” on Facebook. Yes, I realize now how horrid that sentence sounds. I cringe at the thought of having to proof read this rant because that means I will have to reread that sentence. I am tempted to blame Obama, but that’s cheap. I jump to extremes, so I suppose that is the best explanation. I “fanned” something as an over reaction, or perhaps because they had some kind of ad or post that resonated with me.

See, this is one of the enormous dangers of modern politics: one side will scare the willies out of you, but then the other side (who are just as scary) tries to mask their scariness by appealing to your fear of the other side. They both do this, so that those poor souls who are NOT fanatically loyal to one side or the other are left flip-flopping in between like some carp drying up in the sun, trying desperately to get back to the cool of the lake.

Now, for those of you who are familiar with the Facebook interface, I’m sure you have seen the “polls for science” that some of the fan pages and Facebook itself post. Well, the other day “Being Conservative” posts this:

The recent story about a homeless man braving a fierce storm to save an American Flag in distress got us thinking about how some others treat the flag. Please vote in the poll below.

Should burning the American flag be a crime?
a) Yes
b) No
c) Other

Allow me to fill in the “other” section:

What the heck!?!?!? Notice the spin that is put on this, you cannot answer this question negatively without feeling like a complete jerk. This is totally slanted, this is called sophistry… this is called “not being able to think for yourself.” Notice the usage of the words “braving,” “fierce storm,” and “distress.” This is no mere homeless man here, this is the arch angel Michael in disguise protecting the holy effigy of America!

Sarcasm aside, my point is this: protecting the flag with this kind of fanaticism is a fine practice if America is your god. You SHOULD worship and protect the honor of your gods. That’s the way we humans are wired. Question science? You’re a heretic. Blaspheme Allah? You get run through with a scimitar. Burn the flag? You are going to be stoned. This is the normal order of things; it happens all the time. I get all offended if someone insults my favorite song… so yeah, I have issues to sort out too.

So no, we should not be surprised at these kinds of reactions. Everyone needs something to worship, step on it and they will kill you. But this brings me to a very important theological point about Christianity. Many seculars believe that Christians embracing both the commands to not murder and to kill those who DO murder or rape or abuse other humans is nonsensical. Ah contrar, frater!

Based on the principle I already mentioned, it makes PERFECT sense. See, one of the basic tenants of Christianity is that we (humans) are created in God’s image, a gift that was not bestowed on any other creature (which is why PETA elevating animals above humans is ridiculous). As such, humans are made in the very image of the God I serve as a Christian, and as such, they are to be held in the highest respect and honor. Killing or raping and hurting a fellow human is to me what burning a flag is to a patriot, or insulting Darwin is to an Evolutionist, or denouncing Allah is to a Muslim. It is a capital offence, it is TOTALLY deserving of death. You have just defaced the greatest image in existence. Your death is the only option.

That doesn’t make this easy. Killing another human, even if they deserve it should NEVER be taken lightly. And killing animals or plants for the heck of it is akin to spitting on a painting by a great artist. I cringe when I see a fish flopping in the bottom of a boat or find a boy about to stomp on a bug. I am not advocating random acts of violence, I am merely trying to shed a little light.

Bubba Ho-Tep

MPAA rating: R for some violence, uses of the “f” word, and some awkward moments
Canadian rating: 14A
My rating: ****1/2 out of *****
Style: ****
Writing: *****
Awkward parts: ****
Message: *****




JFK and Elvis didn’t die. JFK just went through massive plastic surgeries and is now black and has a brain made of “mostly sand.” Elvis switched places with a guy named Sebastian Haff, one of his impersonators, only to have the real Haff who was then pretending to be Elvis die of drug overdose. Anyway, for some reason JFK and Elvis end up in the same nursing home in the middle of nowhere Mud Creek, Texas. Not only that, but there is a crazy, redneck, cowboy boot wearin’ mummy on the loose. No, this is not one of those movies I would have just picked up on my own; no matter how much you may think me the type.

The story starts with Elvis’ roommate dying and the man’s daughter coming to collect his things. She picks up her father’s Purple Heart and old photos of him coming back from war and is about to throw them away, when Elvis asks if he can have them. She shrugs and hands them over… they mean nothing to her. As she leaves, Elvis asks: why? Why didn’t she take better care of him?

“I didn’t have the money to,” she explains halfheartedly.

“You coulda visited. They don’t charge for that,” Elvis quips.

“Don’t lecture me.”

The whole movie switches between totally nutso craziness and this hard-hitting commentary on how we treat our elders as easily as turn it’s head from left to right. It just… works. It works really well. I felt horrified by the mummy and by our culture’s abuse of the elderly at the same time. I suddenly wanted to go treasure hunting with and/or visit a nursing home.

Another large theme of the film is how Elvis and JFK wish they had been better to their families and been more honorable in their lives. When the mummy shows up, they are given a chance to redeem themselves and take the adventure that they both craved, but never had. This is mostly manifested through Elvis’ long narration speeches about how he wished he had treated his family right.

(SPOILER ALERT)

Finally, the grand finale comes about at the perfect time. JFK has deduced that the nursing home is the perfect place for mummy to haunt, because it needs to eat souls to survive, and “no one would care if a few more elders dropped off.” So Elvis and JFK grab their walker and wheelchair respectively, a big tank of propane, some matches and go off to kick some undead.

The mummy chokes JFK to death, but doesn’t get his soul. Then in an awesome scene, Elvis rams the mummy and blowtorches him to smithereens. But before the end, the mummy deals some serious damage to Elvis, who is left by the creek looking back on all that has happened.

“He didn’t get my soul. I’ve still got my soul. It’s all mine,” Elvis sighs, relived. Finally he looks up at the sky, and for some reason the stars align and spell out the only thing Elvis needs to hear:

“All is well.”

“Thank ya… thank ya very mu…”

All is well; your soul is intact. How often do we need to hear those very words? I know this is a strange film to find the message of “well done, my good and faithful servant.” But that’s what I heard. Those are the words I long to hear when my life is coming to an end and I am looking back on all of my adventures. And I am so glad that some films find them worth saying as well.

A Tale to Tell

I've read a lot of stories in my day. Probably a lot more than most other 21 year old guys; but I never really started evaluating them until now. I mean, I could say "I like this story," or "I really didn't enjoy that one," but I would be hard pressed to tell you why. I never really evaluated those kinds of things. At least, I never did until I started thinking in terms of the "theology of story."

I came across the idea in my first year of college. It was introduced to me by some folks who shall remain nameless, because I respect them so much. If there is one thing my writing has taught me, it's that it is better to be safe than sorry. I don't want them to be held responsible for the stupid stuff I say. But if the following does sound familiar, you probably already know the men who introduced this idea to me in the first place.

Anyway, freshman year I was still mulling over the idea of how God is in complete control of the universe, and yet... man is still responsible for what he does and will be judged for it. Doesn't make a lot of sense to your average Christian, let alone the average atheist. For the few years before this whole new story idea popped up, I just took it as one of those "secret things" of God; a paradox that I simply needed to embrace and trust was true.

Then the theology of story hit me like a ton of bricks: was the Bard responsible for all the murders in Hamlet? Should he have been executed for writing that play? Of course not, he's the writer! His job was to tell a story and get a point across. Uncultured swine that I am, I could not tell you what the point of Hamlet is, but I'm sure Shakespeare had one in mind.

So, Shakespeare didn't have any problem writing sin and murder and evil characters in his plays, but did that make the characters in the play any less evil? Not at all! The story still judged them for what they did. There was still justice in the story, there was humor, and tears and pain and good plotting.

Now I ask, what is God? WHO is God?? He is the master Storyteller, of course. He is writing the best story of all time. A story where, as one book I read put it: "soldiers and spacemen, cowboys and ninjas, pirates and robots all really do exist!" A story that spans MILLENNIA! A tale of revenge, romance, justice, laughter, epic battle scenes, sweeping adventures, evil villains, and so, so, so much more! It is the most epic tale ever told. Why is there sin and death and evil? Because it makes for a good story. Because God must defeat it. Does the existence of something to be vanquished make God Himself evil? No! It makes Him a good story teller. Who would want to read a story with no villain? I know I wouldn't. If there was no challenge to overcome, if there was no struggle... then the victory at the end would be cheap, it would be meaningless. There would be little glory in it.

And for what did God create everything? He made it for His glory. Telling the most epic story of all time was the best way He saw fit to bring Himself glory. What is our job? As the creed says "to glorify God, and to enjoy Him forever." And he chose to do that with a story.

Now that I know this, I find that I know why and how to appreciate human stories: because they are little pictures; little imitations of the bigger story. If it accurately depicts the grand tale, although it is more like a crayon drawing on God's cosmic fridge, it is a good story. Human creations that do NOT reflect God's story are lies, and are not to be held up as good representations of art.

An example perhaps? God says "dog." A dog appears. I draw a brown splotch with four leg looking things. God says: "Well done!" Alan Moore, however, draws a black mess with lightning blots and lots of death and blood. God says: "Badly done!"

We both drew messes, there is no mistake in that. But God sees through the mess into our hearts, He sees what we see, and He does not mistake that for something else. He knows if we are viewing His story correctly. He is also the one who gives us the eyes to see the story, cuz... well, we're the characters He's writing. We can only break the fourth wall if he writes us that way.

One last parting thought: the best human depiction of God's story I have yet seen is Les Miserables. It is a beautiful tale and includes nearly every aspect of God's world in it: revenge, grace, redemption, trust, beauty, love and justice. But best of all, it ends in a wedding.

Till next time,
JSTT

Interrupted

I was all settled down to write a nice essay extolling the wonders of Quentin Tarantino’s film making when I was very rudely interrupted by a great big mess in my apartment that resulted in a metric crap ton of laundry and a very angry Josiah.

Long story short, I ended up at the laundry mat at 11:00pm with a lot of laundry, a Bible, some Skittles and a bad attitude. Then it suddenly dawned on me: this is where I should have been the whole time. God had just resorted to some… unconventional means to get me where He wanted me.

Then all I found I could say was “speak Lord. Your servant is listening.”

Don’t worry, I may still assault you all with that Tarantino essay sometime.

JSTT

Missing the Obvious

Sometimes I'm not the only one who is extremely moronic. To be sure, I have shown my stupid stripes on many an occasion, but every once in a great while, I am outdone. And boy is it beautiful!

As most of you know (and if you didn't, now you do) I turned 21 about a month ago. I've been enjoying the tastes of stout, hard cider and other things ever since. Anyway, I was walking around the grocery store the other day looking for milk and something for dinner, when I noticed an amber ale called "Shock Top." The label intrigued me, so I picked up a case to look at more closely. Wonder or wonders, it was a CITRUS ale! I am a nut for orange juice and all other kinds of citrus things, so I immediately took the case over to the counter.

The lady checking me out (and yes, I know how creepy that sounds), was one of those ladies who calls anyone even remotely younger that she is "darling." So after she had rung up all my quote/unquote "normal" items, I was assaulted with "May I see your I.D., darling?" I grimaced and handed over my drivers license.

Now, for some reason my North Carolina driver's license confuses the heck out most Idahoans. It makes their heads kind of explode and leaves them going: "ddaaaahhhdududududdaaaaa" for about 15 seconds before I explain how it works. After watching her stumble over my identification for a few moments, I pointed out the big red box right by the picture that says:

"TURNS 21 ON JUNE 4, 2010"

It's in kinda big letters, and hard to miss if you're really looking. Anyway, she finally decided that I really WAS old enough to buy beer, and punched in my birthday.

Now, there is something else that you must know about buying alcohol from grocery stores: it's pretty much a fail proof system. There is no way that the computer will let you sell to a minor. You have to deliberately screw with the system to sell to someone under 21: give the computer a false date, disable the "WILL NOT SELL TO MINOR" system, or something very similar. If you do that, in my opinion, you DESERVE to get caught.

Anyway, she punched in my birthday, and the computer says it won't sell to me and cancels the whole transaction. "HA! Now you can't buy milk EITHER!" I almost hear the computer laugh manically. The lady looks at my I.D., at the computer and then back at me. "This is weird."

She punches the date into the computer two more times with the same result. Then she calls over one of the girls working in the same section of the store and has her punch it in. Same thing. They start laughing and wondering what the heck is going on. At this point, someone walks up to the counter and asks: "Can I get some help over here?"

The lady who first tried to take my order looks over and says sarcastically: "No, sorry."

At first I was a little shocked, but then when the other women who was asking for help said: "Wow, service here SUCKS!" I looked a little closer and noticed that they were sisters. I breathed a little sigh of relief. I had no desire to be the cause of contention among Safeway staff and customers.

Finally, the lady got fed up with the whole thing and just punched in her birthday. I made a joke to let the women behind the counter know that I was in no way put out by the whole ordeal, and headed out to my car.

Suddenly, as I was unlocking the great red behemoth, it struck me: they had been putting in the wrong date the entire time! The text on my I.D. had said, "turns 21 on June 4, 2010." So like any lazy human who doesn't want to think too hard, they put the date into the computer... the date that they had read: 06/04/2010. Of course, the computer, smarter than your average human, had said: "No WAY I'm selling to a 1 month old! How the heck is he even trying to buy groceries?!?"

I laughed all the way home, taking comfort in the thought that I am not the only one who makes dumb mistakes like that.

JSTT

Hay un amigo en mi!

Ok, so with the release of every movie now-a-days there is the release of the movie soundtrack. Toy Story 3's soundtrack just came out, and you will never believe what they did with it:

Rapid Heart Beat

Things are happening so quickly. I have only one week left in North Carolina, then I'm headed back to Cleveland... and then Idaho. This month has gone by like a flash. Detailing all the little things that happen would be nigh impossible... so I will do what I do best: give you bullet points. This will also give you, the reader, the sense that things and ideas are flying by extremely fast. So, in the end, we both win. I get to be lazy, and still achieve the effect I desire in my writing. Not that this is a good habit to get into.

-Getting called in for jury duty a week before you leave a town and never intend to return... at least not for a long, long time. Go ahead North Carolina, put out a warrant for my arrest! (I am totally kidding by the way. I just submitted my reason for absence to the judge. I have no desire to be held in contempt of the court.)

-If your mother is having miniature heart attacks... clean the house. This will do wonders for her nerves and will most likely cure all her ills. Hugs on top of this are always a plus.

-I have found yet another avenue to explore in the realm of career options: greeting card writer. Not only will I be the perfect man for the job after finished school, (anyone want Plato references in their thank you cards?) but the headquarters of American Greetings is in Cleveland of all places! Booyah!

-Greenstorm Film is starting back up again in full force. After completing and releasing a rather spiffy music video and receiving many accolades about said video, I received a script from a very good friend of mine. Who was it? What is it? I will say no more. I'll leave you in suspense.

Ok, there's a doctor's appointment I have to get to.
Cheers and laterness and stuff,
JSTT

Not so Glamorous

We all have something to fight for. Everyday, every morning, every night. There are some fights that change from day to day. A job for example may be difficult and you have to overcome the daily challenges that you face there. But jobs often change. One fight that we must fight everyday that we are alive is ourselves. Our own sinful natures that rear their heads at the most inconvenient times.

More often than not we simply want to give up that fight; the fight against self. But as a guy I know that us guys always want something to fight for. That can often take shape in odd ways. One of the most notable ways in modern American culture is by playing video games.

"Huh? What?"

Let me explain. The biggest feature of video game advertised to guys my age are the violent/shoot-em-up games. Halo of course is a wonderful example of this. The Doom games a generation before. Space Invaders the generation before that. Lots of shooting, explosions and flying bits of.... stuff. We're fighting off terrorists, aliens, zombies and demons from hell. And when the women in our lives whine and complain about how we are not fulfilling our duties as men we are confused. "We're fighting off armies for you, don't you see? Can't you understand?"

No, they don't. Because we are fighting for the wrong thing. As men, we are wired to fight. But because we are also wired for laziness, we often fight for the wrong thing; the thing that requires a minimal sacrifice from ourselves. Either that or after realizing that we are fighters, we target the wrong thing as the enemy. Instead of trying to fight the sin nature hidden in the deep dark corners of ourselves, we naturally assume that we ourselves could NEVER be the problem and that it must be those around us: the Church, our parents, the boss, the teacher, the Man, God.

It's time we all reprioritized. We want glorious, glamorous battles to fight. Like the dudes in the video games who can take on hoards of enemy monsters and come our unscathed. There in lies the other thing we long for, a fight without pain or sacrifice. I am very sorry, but that is not possible. There is often very little glamour in the battles we fight. Not only that, but there is blood spilt along the trail, there are broken bones and gnashing of teeth.

I say this as much for my benefit as for your's. But one last thing: we do not fight this fight on our own strength. We fight with the fists of God, the wounds of Christ, and the assurance of the Holy Spirit. And the Trinity does NOT grow weary.

JSTT

The Future... Is On a Boat!

Apologies for my absence when I explicitly said that I would be back soon; although I suppose that five days IS much shorter than two months. I would be lying if I said that I was busy. I am still as of yet unemployed. And no, I'm not bragging. A steady job would be wonderful right about now.

But as my talents are limited t0 telling stories, writing essays, washing dishes and beating things with sticks, my job opportunities are sadly limited.

But I am doing my best to keep occupied and productive. Right now I am writing an as-of-yet-to-be-fully-developed novel with my friend Pete, who writes random bits of silliness on his respective blog here.

We've both been working on this story in our when-we-get-around-to-it time. Which reminds me, my mother actually DOES have a round Tuit.

Getting focused again, here is a bit of the story we are writing, and I am now sharing with you. Oh, and it really does have to do with a boat.

"A boat?"

"Yes... a boat," said Zeb.

"OK, when you said 'boat,' I assumed that you meant a nice boat. A proper ship with wings and jets and... you know... SPACE worthy. Not the whole..." Quint waved his hands in the air gesturing to the entire boat. Zeb gave bemused laugh.

"Yes, yes," he chortled patranizingly. "Sail, keel, deck, ropes, the whole package deal. Missing a proper poop deck sadly." The joke was entirely lost on Quint who continued to stare at the boat as if he had never seen such a thing before. In fact, this was not far from the truth. Quint had not seen a sea ship since he had been back on earth, and that had been part of a collection some rich fellow had. The thing had hardly been sea worthy. Quint knew that he certainly wouldn't have set sail in the thing. What frightened him the most was that the object that Zeb now preposed that they travel in was in even WORSE condition than the one he had seen in a collector's museum. This was not good.

"Care to explain?"

"Explain what?" Zeb countered, as if he went on pleasure cruises in the thing on a regular basis. "Look, I had to get this on the sly. I'm in no position to acquire an entire space craft in the time we had. And even if I HAD had the time, I don't have those kinds of assets. This will do fine. You just need to know where the leeches are and avoid the squalls."

"But... but..." Quint could no longer think in anything other than conjunctions and negations.

Hidden Treasures

It is one of great joys in life to dig up bits and pieces of odds and ends and bits and bobs. Conjunctions for example.

But in all seriousness. I find it very gratifying to introduce someone to a piece of art or fiction, and to watch them fall in love with it. A good example of this recently was introducing my friend Jeremy to the comic books series "Scott Pilgrim." It is a very hard comic to describe, but I have heard others describe it thus: as a cross between Say Anything (the movie, not the band), Kill Bill and Mario. I would also add in every anime you've ever seen, and a healthy helping of Street Fighter.

More recently, Scott Pilgrim has been turned into a film by Edger Wright, the renowned British director behind "Shaun of the Dead" and "Hot Fuzz." He is not the only one working on it however, so is Bill Pope... the cinematographer for not only The Matrix films, but all of the Spider-Man trilogy. I am extremely excited about this one. If you aren't enthused yet, watch the new trailer:

I'll be back with more on character sketches and comics soon. In the mean time enjoy the trailer!

JSTT

June 2010

I just signed a lot of paper work. Attorneys are submitting things to writing. Large sums of money are being pushed around. They are taking care of my earth dollars. I am grateful to them.

Tomorrow I will magically become responsible enough to drink alcohol. Foolish, silly bureaucrats. They makes me laugh.

There will be many words to come about airplanes and movies and beauty and comics and women folk soon to come.

Sorry for my absence. I appreciate your patients. The only thing under construction are my thoughts.

JSTT

Epic Adventures

So, I think that this should become a regular series, as crazy things are happening to me more and more often. The car flip, getting run over by a crazy Irishman at a punk rock concert, etc... But more often than not, these adventures take place with some very special friends of mine: Noah Allsup, Pete Nyhus and Gary Stedman.

Anyway, I decided that since we got this Good Friday off, we should go see a movie. I invited basically everyone that I knew in town... Pete, Gary and Noah were the only three that gave me a positive response. Yes, you all missed out on our epic adventure. Think on your sins.

Which movie, you ask? "How to Train Your Dragon." I mentioned it earlier, horrible title... and now I can say from personal experience: totally cool movie.

Problem: it's not playing in our town. The local theater is closed for remodeling, and the theater in the next state (which conveniently is only 4 miles away) decided to oust Dragon so that they could begin playing the remake of "Clash of the Titans," which appears to be the exact opposite of Dragon, super cool title, hopelessly lame movie. But as one of my friends mentioned after seeing the trailer for it said: "That looks really ridiculous... but I feel that as a man... I have to see it." Ah yes, American culture defines gender lines again!!!! Hazzah!!! But I digress...

So after sleeping in and missing breakfast, I call Gary. Pete. is. asleep. I would have been too if it wasn't for my overreactive sense of.... I have no idea what I'm taking about. Let's fast-forward a bit.

We're driving to Lewiston (the only theater for about 57.3 miles around playing the film), only to have it start snowing on the way there. Yes, snowing. It is April 2.... and it is snowing. Did I mention that it was SNOWING?????

But we are in luck, as Lewiston is about 1000 ft closer to sea level than Moscow is. Taking the switchbacks down the mountain side the snow quickly turns to slush and then to rain. When we finally reach the bottom, it's as if we've entered an entirely different hemisphere.

The movie itself was great. Tons of fun, even if you don't see it in 3D. The music, the effects... the acting even. Sometimes I forgot that I was watching pixels and not real people. That is the true mark of a talented director, he can turn ANY medium and create something beautiful out of it. Finally, a Gerard Butler movie that is... um.... kid friendly!! Anyway, if you can forgive the title, I highly recommend it to all of you from about 5 to 93.

We stop at a hole in the wall burger place called Sharp's Burgers... only found in Lewiston/Clarkston, where we proceeded to just stand in front of the counter, staring at the menu and freaking out the management.

"So, are we just going to stand here being awkward?"
Pete: "You can. I am going to stand here and be awesome."
Noah: "Wait.... what???"
Gary: "Well, I'm going to order something."
Josiah: "Wait a second. You can buy a HALIBUT?!?!?"

The restaurant was where most of the following quote and what-not came about. There seems to be something explosive combustible about putting the four of us in the same room. (Welcome to the club for redundancy club.) Pete, Noah, and I are all extremely loud, Gary, although he doesn't say much, usually laughs in approval at our jokes. Noah usually plays the bothered, offended yet jovial hot-head. "You have got to be KIDDING MEEEEE!!!!!"
Pete... Pete's kind of like his comic foil, telling non-sequiturs as if they were the most common thing in the world, and spouting nonsense as if it were fact. I play the straight man... the one who usually instigates the awkward, odd, and sometimes hilarious conversation topics. Gary is our laugh track.

But as we ascended out of the Snake River valley, nothing could have prepared us for what lay ahead. The fields at the top of the gorge were almost completely white! The yellow sign posts were frozen over, looking like something you might find on a movie poster with the tag line: "When hell freezes over!"

At that point, Gary decided to crack a joke: "It's like God's saying: 'Now it's spring time... oops. NOT!!!!"

My friends are awesome.
JSTT



Quotes:
-Josiah (reading a sign): "It's scout cookie season: March 11th to April... something."
-Pete: "That would explain the dancing cookies"

(arguing about taking school work into a movie theater)
Gary: "You know, when I they were first fighting the dragons, all I could think of was 'hey, he is surviving their attacks by using induction."
Noah (staring at Gary in disbelief): "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! It's a HOLIDAY!!!!"
Gary: "What? You brought Darwin along."
Noah: "Yes, but I left him in the CAAARRRR!!!!"
Pete: "It would have been funny to take him into the movie theater. 'I don't understand this. Could you tell me what's going on? Wait, they're dragons. How do you explain THAT you bearded kook!!!"

Thou Fiend!

"Peacocks succeed reproductively by winning a kind of beauty contest, in which females 'select' the most attractive males. This explanation for the existence of such otherwise useless features undermined the Creationist assumption that the world has been intelligently designed."
-Michael T. Ghiselin, from the introduction to the Dover Thrift Ed. of Darwin's 'On the Origin of Species'

Apparently, if God exists... He's an engineer... not a poet.

Jimmy

We Americans love our unsung heroes; we love rooting for the underdog. We do not, however, like being said unsung hero. We want to be rich and famous. Like Tyler Durden says: “We all want to be rock gods and movies stars, but we won’t. We are slowly learning that fact, and we are very pissed off.”

Shift back about two millennia and several dead languages ago to First Samuel, chapter 14. The Philistines are attacking Israel… again. Think of them as the Viking invader scourge of ancient Mesopotamia, except that they were kind of locals. OK, dropping the metaphor now. Anyway, they were at it again.

Saul has just been crowned king and then promptly depose; both times by the very grumpy sounding and rather snarky prophet Samuel. Saul’s son, Jonathan (who I’m pretty sure was NOT gay! Haven’t you people ever heard of bro-mance? Come on!), on the other hand is kicking butt and taking names. Deciding that the Philistines are getting a little too uppity, Jonathan decides to take the battle behind enemy lines.

So where does this whole “unsung hero” business come into play? Right about now, in fact. Jonathan grabs his personal armor-bearer, and tells him that they are going to go and teach those bloody Philistines a thing or two. Imma’ call this kid Jimmy.

Anyway, after Jonathan uses some pretty harsh language to describe the invaders, he asks if Jimmy’s in it with him. Jimmy’s answer?

“Go ahead, I am with you heart and soul.”

Jimmy doesn’t even flinch. He just looks Jon in the eyes and says: “Do it man, I’ve got your back!” A friend indeed.

“OK then,” Jonathan pipes up, “here’s the plan: we walk up to them in broad daylight.”

Jimmy: “So far so good.”

Jonathan: “And then, if they say ‘We’re comin to get you!’ we’re outta luck. But if they say: ‘Come on and get us!’ then that means that God is gonna helps us whoop ‘em for sure!”

They go over, and what do you know? The Philistines yell: “Come on and get us!” So Jimmy and Jon deal it out and slaughter about 20 of the idiots; Jonathan taking the lead… and Jimmy? Well, he watches Jon’s back, just like he said he would and “killed behind him.” Jimmy was taking names too.

The Philistines go crazy. Their entire came starts turning on each other; they are actually now killing each other with their swords. They just got their butts handed to them by some high-schoolers. I can just imagine the looks on their generals’ faces. Jimmy and Jon made Saul’s mop up job a piece of cake. (To eat… not to bake.)

This one goes out to all those Jimmys in the world. You know who you are. You are no longer unsung. I’m rooting for you… and guess what? God is too.

The Days

The rain still falls on Wednesdays

And it still pours on Thursdays

It's still gloomy on the days in between

People still die on Sundays

Just because they got drunk on Fridays

And it reminds me of the hurt I've seen

Of all the dour looks on Mondays

We're all just punching the books till Saturday

And we're still here

Yes, we're still here

But the days drag on

And the weather falls

And the time is long

But I think that's the problem

We keep the time

We make sure it rhymes

Why not

BRaKE out????

Why not SmASH A FEW

of the rules

Not destroy the reason

Not create chaos

But live a little... differently

A little bit better than

<---------------------------------BEFORE

Don't cry like the raven

Please stop saying

"Nevermore"

For we will live beyond these DAY

Yes

Yes my friends

We will live

EVERMORE.

Connotation, Definition and ect.

I'll post this on my blog and facebook so that it won't be missed.

So, I have always seemed to have this problem. I like using words that I don't understand. It's been that way since I was very small. Once, after saying something funny as a boy of about 6, a family friend told me: "Josiah, I bet you'll grow up to be a comedian." To which I replied: "But I'm already a Canadian!"

Usually this was only a problem with big words like "discombobulated, penultimate" and my personal favorite: "disraught" (a cross between the word "distraught" and the phrase "what hath thou wrought?") "Fired," although a very short word, seems to be causing me a bit of trouble at the moment. I thought I knew what it meant, but I guess still I misunderstood. I'm good at that.

I should be familiar enough with this problem just from my own friends' slips of phrase. Recently, a friend (who shall remain unnamed) was rather disraught (hee, hee, hee) and said he was wondering: "where do God and I stand?" I was rather shocked.

"Dude, whoa! Are you OK? Do you even know what that means?"

He said that he did, but his definition was most certainly NOT mine. I told him: "Ok, this is what I think of when I hear that phrase. Example, if some girl that I was dating or engaged to or whatever came up to me and said: 'Josiah, where do we stand now,' I would be preparing for the end of the relationship."

My friend was shocked: "No, no, no! That's not what I meant at all!" And then he went on to explain that he was just having a hard time struggling with sin and spiritual depression. Well, who doesn't have a down moment now and then? But doubting your faith in God (which is what I took him to mean) is something else entirely!

So... let me define my terms. I suppose by everyone else's definition, I was not "fired." I was not even a full employee yet. I was still in a three week period of paid training. At the end of those three weeks me and my boss had a little heart to heart. I am a big picture kind of guy, working at a winery requires that one be constantly consumed with the details, making it a full priority. I could not afford to do that. I have enough details in my head with Latin subjunctives and the mitochondria of animal cells. I left on good terms, no hostility, no anger... just a mutual realization that that wasn't where I should have been.

I'm an odd bat. I have strange definitions sometimes. I still think that spring starts in February, summer in May, autumn in August and winter in November. Often... VERY often, I must clarify and correct myself. Thanks for listening.

God bless your weekend,

JSTT

The Rain

Hello old friend

Constant

Steady

Leaving blood-like trails on the dirt stains of a crimson mini-van

Don't leave yet

Stay here

Wash me clean

Wash us all

Wash us all away

I'll rejoice in others' contentment

Just don't leave