The Burr in the Burgh

St. Paul wrote: "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy— think about such things (Phil. 4:8)."

Many Christians read this passage and focus on the pure & lovely. But notice that the first word Paul uses is TRUE. Think on the truth. Not every truth is delightful to behold. According to the pure & lovely standard, narrowly understood, one might need to exclude important scriptures such as the beheading of Goliath, the global destruction of the flood, the slaughter of the priests of Baal on Mt. Carmel, or the torture and murder of Jesus. Those are horrifying scenes indeed. I know of people who have been deeply upset to learn of such excessive violence in Holy Scripture. In some cases, their very faith was shaken. The book of Ecclesiastes often takes fire for being, in the eyes of some, a hopeless text. The Gospels are blamed for inciting hatred against the Jews. The epistles of St. Paul have several rather harsh blasts of holy anger. My point is that the Bible itself contains much distasteful content. It is, at times, disturbing, unsettling, and infuriating.

Other important works of literature may not pass the pure & lovely test either, including the plays of Shakespeare (Macbeth, Hamlet, Titus Andronicus), Homer's Odyssey, the novels of Nathaniel Hawthorne, Graham Greene, and John Steinbeck to name only a few.

Some Christians will disagree with me vehemently, but I think the latest cinematic Batman episode, The Dark Knight, written and directed by Chris Nolan, is a work of genius. Yes, it is dark. Yes, parts of it are hard to watch. But it tells the truth, at least part of it. An important part.

I'm no expert on the work of Spanish mystic, St. John of the Cross, but I am familiar with his great work entitled "Dark Night of the Soul." That phrase has come to refer to those times in the life of a person when God seems particularly distant, when the soul is alone with his corruption. That's what this movie is about. The Joker is the archetypal man.

Much of contemporary culture is infused with a deadly optimism about human nature. And this is a demonic lie which blinds people to the depth of their need for someone more than a super-hero, a true white and noble Knight to rescue them.

Mutilation. Disfigurement. Anarchy. Random violence. Betrayal. It's no Frank Capra flick. Chris Nolan did not make a "feel good" picture. But he did make a great movie that tells the important truth of mankind's deep inbred narcissism. Without external restraints, we are worse than savages. Apart from restoration in Christ, all people are disfigurements. Deep beneath the veneer of civility, all human beings are unfunny clowns who appear to thrive on mayhem. At one point, the Joker says, "Madness is like gravity. All people need is a little push."

One extremely useful insight the film conveys is the utter meaninglessness of evil. We don't want to believe that. We constantly want to explain away our bad behavior, to make excuses, to justify ourselves. I steal because I'm poor. I hate because I'm ignorant. I kill because I'm a victim. Ultimately, that is just baloney. We do those things because we are bad. That's all. Sinners sin because they are sinful.

The Joker says, "Do I really look like a man with a plan, Harvey? I don't have a plan. The mob has plans, the cops have plans. You know what I am, Harvey? I'm a dog chasing cars. I wouldn't know what to do if I caught one. I just *do* things."

Alfred, Batman's butler, gets it. He says, "Some men aren't looking for anything logical. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn."

In the dark night of the soul, when God is absent, there is no meaning, no purpose, no direction. Even an evil direction would be more bearable than having none whatsoever. Of course, Chris Nolan's masterpiece knows nothing of the dawn, the Morning Star (Rev. 22:16). But if you can sit through the 2 1/2 hours of "Dark Knight" and not exit craving the sunshine, you are made of cement.

The untimely death of actor Heath Ledger several months ago, makes his performance particularly bitter to watch. What a loss. His Joker strikes me as one of the most amazing on-screen performances I've ever seen. Of course, it goes a bit over-the-top. It has to. Otherwise most of us would scarcely notice. As Flannery O'Connor once said, "you have to make your vision apparant by shock, to the hard of hearing, you must shout. And for the almost blind, you draw large and startling figures."

In my judgment, this is not a movie about Batman. It's about the Joker. Which is to say that it's about me. The Joker is a mirror, a truth-teller of unpretty realities.

I've been doing some research lately on the history and practice of Satanism. I just finished Lure of the Sinister: The Unnatural History of Satanism, in which the author, Gareth Medway, argues that there is no proof of any satanic crimes or ritual abuse/murders, as was the scare in the 60s, 70s and 80s. For the longest time, it was frequently reported that covens were sexually abusing, torturing, and murdering children and adults in Black Masses or other satanic rituals.

You can see evidence of this popular fascination with Satan by the way scary movies changed in the 1970s. In the 30s, horror films dealt mostly with mythical and literary figures. In the 40s and 50s, the struggles with fascism and communism were mirrored in alien invasion pictures. Also in the 50s, a string of atomic mutant films emerged with giant ants, Godzilla, etc. But in the 60s and 70s, the horror themes became much darker. That's when satanic conspiracies were in the backs of peoples' minds, i.e. The Exorcist, Rosemary's Baby, The Omen.

Medway posits that this is a phenomena akin to people who talk about being abducted by aliens: lots of reports and rumors with scant physical evidence.

Certainly, we saw lots of "survivors" of ritual abuse and former high priestesses on Oprah and Sally Jessy Raphael. In the 70s and 80s, a popular evangelical preacher/comedian named Mike Warnke made an impression on me. I had some of his comedy tapes and I thought he was hilarious. But then he would become serious and talk about his years as a satanic high priest as his evangelistic hook. The trouble is that he made it all up. He was exposed as a liar and fake. Medway points out that this is the pattern with most of these scenarios.

Gareth Medway is not unbiased. His inclinations are easily apparent. He reveals upfront that he is a practicing pagan. And it is evident that he believes that followers of dark spiritualities have been persecuted by narrow minded Christians. Indeed, many innocents have had their reputations destroyed by the conspiracy theorists.

I don't know if he's right or not about satanic crimes and ritual abuse. And it is helpful to distinguish between Wiccans, neopagans, Church of Satanists and run-of-the-mill devil worshippers. What is crucial, I believe, is that the Christian Church have a clear understanding of the person and work of Satan. Out of sight, out of mind. But this mustn't be out of our mind. If the sensational stories are mostly bunk, there still is a rebellious spirit who oppresses the earth and all upon it.

Heath Ledger's most critically acclaimed performance was for the recent Brokeback Mountain, a film I did not happen to see. But I could tell from several earlier performances such as The Patriot and Monster's Ball that this was a young artist of considerable promise. It is with some sadness then that I write of his strange and sudden death.

My further comments can be read at the Seminary Blog.

Eastern Promises is the latest film directed by David Cronenberg and stars Viggo Mortensen, Naomi Watts, and Armin Mueller-Stahl.

Cronenberg has a bizarre repertoire of films with a flair for the grotesque. Not only are his movies often graphically violent, but they serve as veritable meditations on the effects of violence, both emotionally and bodily. And in that sense, I hate to say, I think he may have a spark of genius.

Personally, I do not have a high opinion of most of his work. His most recent two films, Eastern Promises and A History of Violence, however, do deserve a bit of attention. It would surprise me very much, in fact, if Eastern Promises does not earn an Oscar nomination for Best Picture.

Director Cronenberg began his career making low-budget horror films specializing in yuck. E.P. is not a horror film by strict definitions, but is very similar thematically. And there is no shortage of yuck. Two fundamental themes for the horror genre are transformation and identity. Many literary forms ask the question "who am I?" but horror asks "what am I?" and "what am I becoming?", with typically unhappy answers.

The definition of a monster is a being who should not exist but does, or a being that cannot be classified. For instance, Frankenstein's monster is a being who should not exist but does. He is the fabrication of a scientist who plays God and attempts to manufacture new life out of old body parts. And Darth Vader is also a monster because we don't know what he is. He's hard to classify. Is he man or machine?

So horror asks, "what is it?" Dead or alive? Man or machine? Male or female? Plant or animal? Earthly or extraterrestrial? Sane or insane? Healthy or sick? Clean or unlcean? Think of the horror monsters you've seen and you'll find that these are the questions most often at play. The significant thing is that they urge us to ponder what it means to be a human. When does a being cross the line of being non-human to human or vice-versa? Etc. With today's bio-ethical dilemmas and the advances of research in genetics, artificial intelligence, robotics, cloning, chimeras, etc., you will see more and more, I predict, horror stories asking such questions.

How does Eastern Promises fit into this horror scheme? It's not a horror film, per se, but it considers transformation. A History of Violence does so even better, I'd say. Transformation from one thing into another, usually as the result of violence or bodily disfigurement. In E.P., Viggo Mortensen does a truly brilliant job portraying the ultimate thug as part of the Russia mafia in London. He captures the accent, look and mannerisms masterfully.

Here is what I value in this film. It assumes and teaches that violence changes human character. Not being the object of violence, but the subject. My pastor, Rev. David Petersen, posed a fascinating question in Bible class last Sunday, a question that he found in the work of Peter Kreeft, I believe. Suppose your child were a prisoner is a Nazi concentration camp. Now suppose, your child were approached by the sadist Dr. Josef Mengele who proposes to spare your son or daughter if he or she will assist him in his experiments. So the choice is this: Assist Mengele in torturing others or be tortured by him. Now how would you want your child to choose?

Many would say that since they don't want their child to be harmed, they'd prefer him to assist the doctor. But what is truly more damaging, to be tortured or to torture. I agree with Pastor Petersen's point that to do violence to another person damages the doer in more deep and lasting ways.

In his own way, I think Cronenberg makes this point. The monsters in this world are not those who've been damaged externally but those who do the damaging. They became spiritual freaks, if you will, disfigured on the inside.

That is the headline from Reuters earlier this week. Calling for a boycott of the recent film based on the controversial trilogy, His Dark Materials, by Philip Pullman, the Vatican statement elaborates: "when man tries to eliminate God from his horizon, everything is reduced, made sad, cold and inhumane". Also according to Reuters, the Vatican paper called The Golden Compass, "the most anti-Christmas film possible."

The Golden Compass is indeed a reason for concern, primarily because of the subsequent two volumes of the trilogy it is associated with. The current movie version of Compass is only mediocre as a movie and for the most part, avoids the most sticky wicky points.

How should Christians respond? First, I agree with the Vatican's concerns, but I believe it is important to remain cool-headed. Is it truly the most anti-Christmas film possible? Such exaggerated assertions suggest that the reviewer either didn't really see the film or is prone to overreaction. In both cases, our cause is harmed.

One of the biggest flaws in Pullman's technique is his extremism. Even some people who agree with his views feel he is an impediment because he overstates his case. I hope the church does not fall into the same approach. Not every attack on the Faith requires the same degree of response. Otherwise, every attack will be the most anti-Christmas film possible. And if every attack is the most anti-Christmas film possible (to use the phrase from the Vatican), then none of them are. Not everything can be the "most possible." Do you see?

So if next year, another film is produced that undermines Christianity but does so in a more direct and sophisticated way, how will we respond if we've already labeled Compass as the worst possible? If it's the worst, then all others must not be as bad.

I am in no way defending the militant atheism of Philip Pullman. I am only saying that our responses to our critics ought to be in proportion to the quality of the threat.

Hi folks,

I just posted a few comments on the Pullman movie over at my department's new blog which you can see right here.

It's a dud, folks. I went to see it today and it's just not that good of a movie. Aside from Pullman's atheistic agenda, this movie is mostly a bore. Seemingly, not many folks are rushing out to see it. Check this out. It only made about 9 million bucks on opening night. The latest Harry Potter flick made over 100 million on it's first night.

I love this reviewer's take. It's hilarious.

... about one thing. And that is that stories teach. They, in fact, often teach more effectively than any other method I could name.

Here is what the controversial author of The Golden Compass (vol. 1 of His Dark Materials) had to say when accepting an award for it in 1996: All stories teach, whether the storyteller intends them to or not. They teach the world we create. They teach the morality we live by. They teach it much more effectively than moral precepts and instructions.


As the great philosopher Arthur Fonzarelli said many a time: "Exactamundo!"

Too bad Pullman didn't take his own statement to heart. Stories teach. Tolkien knew it. Lewis knew it. Dostoevsky knew it. John Milton knew it. Those were excellent writers. It is usually a sign of an amateur writer when the didactic elements overpower the narrative elements. And I have seldom read published works as tediously preachy as His Dark Materials. He makes the mistake of many well-intentioned Christians who appear to write stories but are really just thinking up premises as a pretext for writing an evangelistic tract. I am a Christian and even I find it objectionable to be tricked by an author into thinking I was going to be getting a story instead of a sermon. Don't get me wrong. I like sermons. It's just that I like stories too. Not only is Pullman's teaching objectionable, but he ruins the story.

There are tons of helpful resources out there. But if you are looking for one more, give this one a try. I wrote it for Concordia Publishing House and the price is right. FREE.

If you read it, I'd be very interested to hear your comments.

Aren't polar bears the awesomest, by the way?!

Many of you have seen the spectacular preview for the upcoming movie, The Golden Compass, which is based upon the novel by Philip Pullman of the same name.

The Golden Compass is the first volume of the well-known and rightfully controversial His Dark Materials Trilogy. I've read the books and expect the movies to be fabulously popular. The trouble is that Pullman is the reverse image of C.S. Lewis. While the author of The Chronicles of Narnia wrote in order to express Christian doctrine in the form of a gripping mythology, Pullman want to unravel Christian faith. If you've read the books, you know what I mean. The question, of course, is whether the films will delete the most egregiously anti-Christian elements in order to be marketable.

According to an article in Entertainment Weekly, religious groups are calling for a boycott. Writer Missy Schwartz cites the fact that The Da Vinci Code made over $200 million at the box office in the midst of a boycott as evidence that such things don't hurt Hollywood in the wallet, where it counts. The Last Temptation of Christ episode would seem to prove otherwise. Admittedly, that was twenty years ago.

One of my goals for 2007 was to re-read the Pullman trilogy and prepare some response material. Alas, I have not met that particular goal. Does anyone know of any substantial, book-length response to Pullman?

Don't let the title of this amazing documentary film confuse you. This is not a movie about prostitution. It is a movie about real children. Amazing children.

Originally planning to reveal the plight of women in Calcutta, India, documentarian Zana Briski found herself unexpectedly charmed by the children of prostitutes who were literally Born into Brothels. And you will be charmed as well.

Briski felt moved to try to help some of these children any way she could. So she began to teach a number of them about photography. The film reveals its heart when she gives the children point-and-shoot cameras of their own. The images they capture are heartbreaking, both in beauty and in sorrow. And I defy you not to become enamored with the children themselves.

The movie made me feel a variety of emotions. Anger at myself for being a complainer when God has given me so much. Sadness that there is such poverty and despair in the world. Delight in the sweetness of these kids. I felt hope as I saw people rise out of selfishness to help others less blessed. And hope for the future of children who appear destined for misery. Finally it made me want to do something for others. I was changed a little bit by the experience of watching Born into Brothels and that is the definition of great art.

See this movie.



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Can horror films serve a useful purpose? Jeffrey Overstreet thinks so. And I agree. Oh most horror films are probably, at best, merely entertainments for adrenaline junkies. Rather, most of them are harmful gore-fests that desensitize the viewer to human suffering and feed a broken sadistic appetite to see people cut apart, mangled and eaten.

But there are a few movies within the horror genre which exceed these limits and make a truly beneficial impact on the viewer. Of all genres, Horror is the most difficult to define. That's because it is really the only genre that refers to an emotion instead of a setting or scenario. So there can be horror dramas, horror comedies, horror westerns, horror space operas, horror romances, horror fantasies, etc. Any story that horrifies you is a horror story.

Is it always bad to be scared? Or is fear a useful and even good thing, from time to time? If experiencing artwork reminds you of the curse of death we all share, or if it makes you understand that the devil is real and hell exists, or if it stirs you up from moral relativism to acknowledge the fact that some things are evil and some are good, then that artwork has helped you in a spiritual sense.

And the only way to reach some people is to shock them. Flannery O'Connor said that for the hard of hearing you must occasionally shout. For the morally deaf and blind, a bit of excess in our expression is necessary. Wasn't Jesus going for shock value when he told people they had to chop off their hands and gouge out their eyeballs to avoid going to hell?? That's a pretty creepy image if you ask me.

Overstreet, in his book, Through a Screen Darkly, recalls an anti-smoking billboard he used to pass regularly that showed a photograph of a gross blackened lung filled with cancer. He found it repulsive. Was that an effective way to dissuade people from smoking? I bet it was.

As part of my preparation for a youth retreat I'm speaking at this weekend in Marshall, Michigan, I've been studying a new book by Jeffrey Overstreet called Through a Screen Darkly. I've long been a reader of his blog.

Yesterday, I read his comments on a film I actually have not seen. It's called Saved! I don't want to remark on the particulars of this film since, as I said, I have not seen it. I have only read and heard about it. The reason I have not seen it is not because I necessarily object to it. I just haven't seen it yet.

If I may, the movie is basically a spoof of the Evangelical Christian subculture as exhibited at a Christian high school. I went to a small Lutheran High School myself and spent a great deal of my teen years going to Youth For Christ camps and events. So I think I probably have a grip on the premise. Being Lutheran, I wasn't ever fully steeped in all the subcultural moves the film probably highlights, but I've been around them plenty.

If you guessed that Saved! elicited a firestorm of protest from Christians, you are dead on. So, once again, I remind you that since I have not seen this particular movie, I won't add to the specific controversy. I have a feeling that I would NOT share the same righteous anger of many of my brothers and sisters about this movie, but I don't know that for sure.

Really, I want to respond to some of the insightful observations that Overstreet makes in this part of his book. He highlights the fact that many Christians consider every poke of fun at the church as a direct attack on God. If I read him correctly, he cautions Christians from being hyper-sensitive to legitimate criticisms offered in the form of satire. It is a healthy thing to know how to laugh at one's own foibles and failings. It shows humility. The wise man, after all, delights when someone corrects him.

Overstreet observes that comedy serves a useful role in society. Even silly screwball farces like
Zoolander or Anchorman serve a purpose beyond mere entertainment by putting light on man's various pretensions in an entertaining way. I am reminded of the classic Saturday Night Live sketch during the presidential debates between Al Gore and George W. Bush in 2000. Both candidates were skewered by the show and it was hilarious, not because they were trying to be disrespectful, but because their exaggerated performance was rooted in truth. And it's a testimony to their talent that so many who watched the program recognized its truthfulness, including the advisors to both Gore and Bush.

Let's face it. Christians really are pretty ridiculous at times. I will applaud artists and performers who skillfully pop our balloons from time to time.

I would, however, like to add a couple of cautions. Overstreet recognizes the difference between making fun of Christians and making fun of Christ. While one is acceptable and even welcome, the other is not. Certainly not every protest from the Christians is a result of their being thin-skinned. They may not register their objections in a seemly fashion, but mocking God is a real offense. The Creator does not appreciate having His name abused.

Further, mock the hypocrisies of the Christians. But don't mock the doctrines or beliefs of the Christians. This is a fine line to distinguish at times because so much of what it mock-able in us are the eccentric extremes or deviations we make to the historic creeds of God's people. A bit of fun poking at the ways we express ourselves is at times fitting, but the underlying truths are sacred realities that impart life. Such things deserve a foundation of fear and trembling.

Satire can serve a beneficial function, but it can also be taken too far. I realize that this is subjective. What is "too far" to you, may be appropriately strong to me, but mean-spiritedness does little to advance understanding. It is in this respect, that I find fault with much of what Hollywood produces. While there are notable exceptions, it is generally true that Christians are negatively portrayed in the entertainment media. Are all Christians hypocritical all the time? Are all clergy pedophiles, greedy, insane or dimwitted? And why be one-sided? I don't see many shows or films that ridicule secularism.

I can accept fair critiques that demonstrate the goofs of the Church. But without balance, such comedy strengthens stereotypes. And stereotyping undermines understanding. It effectively kills the thought process.

Even though I started to read Jeffrey Overstreet's Through a Screen Darkly this summer, I had to set it aside for a while. But now I'm enjoying it full speed once again. Right now, I'm about half way through it. I've read a lot of books on movies and religion, but this one stands out so far for it's philosophy of art. This is important stuff.

For various reasons, "conservative" Protestants tend to view all the arts with suspicion. Film is certainly no exception. But what role do the arts play in human life? How is the creative nature of God reflected in man's efforts to create (or "sub-create" as Tolkien would differentiate)? Can we learn anything from art? Does it help us or improve us in any way? Or maybe we should step backwards and ask whether movies qualify as art. What is the difference between entertainment and artwork?

Furthermore, I've also appreciated Overstreet's response to those Christians who criticize - or even condemn - him for recommending or commenting positively on particular films, even for viewing them. I am often asked to speak about movies and Christianity with church youth and I always cover the big three objections to movies from parents: nudity, violence, and profanity. I'll post about that at another time.

Here we demonstrate the inherent narcissism of blogging, the assumption that anyone "out there" would be interested in my little ol' life and interests.

These are the books I brought with me for vacation to the mountains.

• Your Movie Sucks by Roger Ebert (finished). A compilation of the famed movie critic's most scathing reviews. I don't always agree with Ebert's evaluation, but I always find him interesting. His knowledge of film history is vast. Quite to my surprise, he doesn't hesitate to point out the hypocrisies of those who infuse their films with political correctness.


• Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Suskind. My hat is off to John E. Woods for his hypnotic translation. Here is a story about obsession (the psychological state, not the fragrance). Parallels Tolkien's Ring of Power, which obviously parallels the state of original sin. I'm only about 60 pages into it and though beautifully written, I'm actually coming to the opinion that the recent film adaptation may have had more theological complexity and subtlety. But that would have to be credited to the wonderfully expressive face of the chief actor.


• Chuck Klosterman IV: A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas by Chuck Klosterman. This guy is a great read for those intrigued by all aspects of pop culture. The first hundred or so pages have been mostly music criticism, specifically Heavy Metal. Not my chief area of interest, to be sure, but Klosterman is entertaining. I think the rest of the essays branch away from just music, but so far I'd rather be re-reading his Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto, a book I read while relaxing on a three day train ride across Siberia last summer.


• Through a Screen Darkly by Jeffrey Overstreet. I've been enjoying Jeffrey's blog on popular culture for several years so I'm looking forward to his first book on religion and movies. His book is subtitled: Looking Closer at Beauty, Truth, and Evil in the Movies.


• Jesus of Nazareth by Pope Benedict XVI. Up to now, the only thing I've read by this pope are homilies and the occasional statement in the press. I am looking forward to this juicy biblical Christology. His opening pages on the values and limitations of the higher critical method of biblical research, particularly how this has impacted the search for the historical Jesus, seem well reasoned and balanced.


• Sophie's Choice by William Styron. Loved the film. Bought the novel on the strong recommendation of a friend.


• Trail of Tears: The Rise and Fall of the Cherokee Nation by John Ehle. Trying to get in touch with my roots.
  

300 came out on DVD today, the new film based on the graphic novel by Frank Miller. It's a pretty riveting action film inspired by the ancient battle between 300 Spartans and about 80 zillion Persians.

As much as I enjoy the film with it's stylish action sequences, a better rendition of the story is the novel by Steven Pressfield: Gates of Fire: An Epic Novel of the Battle of Thermopylae.

Nonetheless, one of the things that amazes me with the film is the striking portrayal of bad king Xerxes. Has there ever been a more Satanic character in two dimensions?

Just like Ol' Scratch himself, Xerxes sets himself forward as your greatest friend. He just wants you to be happy, to experience the pleasures forbidden by your cruel vindictive god. To Leonides, you can be king; you can rule the world; you can have terrific wealth. Only bow down to me.

In 1948, Alfred Hitchcock directed the unusual thriller Rope starring Jimmy Steward and Farley Granger.

I say "unusual" because it is not typical for Hollywood to include drawn out philosophical reflections in its productions.

Entirely played out in two rooms of a single apartment, the opening scene shows two men at the final moments of strangling a third man to death.

Brandon and Philip are the two spoiled urbane collegians who are playing a game, performing an experiment, and, I suppose, attempting to realize their destiny.

Jimmy Stewart plays a former professor, still much admired by the boys for his unorthodox views.

Essentially, the drama revolves around Brandon's and Philip's avant garde ethical viewpoint. Patterned after the famous case of Leopold and Loeb, the two young men set out to commit the "perfect" murder just because they could. But they could not. And did not. They were caught.

I don't quite know enough about Friedrich Nietzsche to be the judge, but the film's two protagonists - especially Brandon - purport to embody the German philosopher's idea of the ubermensch.

To be plain, Nietzsche believed that traditional Christian morality was generally demeaning to man. Since "God is dead", (as he would say), why should men bridle their instincts, denying themselves terrific pleasure and reward to assuage a fictional deity?

For Nietzsche, might makes right. The one who has the power to enforce his will upon others is the best one. He spoke of the "superman" who would not grovel or cater to the heavenlies but who would assert himself.

Brandon certainly understood himself as the ubermensch. In his mind, murdering a cohort whom he considered an inferior was justified. Sort of a variation on Darwin's natural selection.

Ideas do have consequence.

cf. Rope: Nietzsche and the Art of Murder; Hitchcock and Philosophy (Popular Culture and Philosophy)

I went with a couple of chums last night to a late showing of 1408, the current film based on a story by Stephen King. It starred John Cusack, one of my all-time favorite actors.

I really appreciate a well-written ghost story. This one was better than average but not stellar. A good ghost story always begs these two questions:

- Is there life beyond death?
- Is there a God and does He love or hate us?

I liked 1408 not only because it was a moderately scary flick, but because it did grapple with those two questions pretty effectively. Of course, most ghost stories fall very short of giving complete and correct answers but in an aggressively atheistic and materialistic cultural context, the questions themselves may represent progress.

The Scriptures teach: "Indeed, under the law almost everything is purified with blood, and without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins (Hebrews 9:22)." I couldn't help but notice the significance of blood in the temple ritual of the Mayans in the movie Apocalypto. One telling scene has a warrior returning with captives to be sacrificed at the temple. The priest stops him before he sets foot on the most holy place. And the warrior, understanding the problem, cuts his hand with a knife and sprinkles his blood upon the stones before taking a step. I can't say whether the Gibson film accurately represents the theology of ancient Mayan religion, but I am fascinated that so many pagan belief systems understand the principle of cleansing with blood.

I direct you to a fascinating review of The Lives of Others by Barbara Nicolosi. She makes an interesting argument for why Hollywood has made so many movies about the Nazi atrocities but so few about the appalling stories of the Soviets or modern communists in Cuba, China or North Korea.

I just added The Lives of Others to my Blockbuster Online list.