Aaaaah!  Now that’s more like it.  I’m rested (read: all napped up) and not feeling sore anymore.  I reread pt. 1 of this blog series and am amazed at how tired I was when I wrote it.  All of those writing errors make me look like I have writing Tourette’s.  Oh well, I’m rested enough to enjoy the candid-ness of it thusly I refuse to edit it.

I am thoroughly aggravated by the fact that the hotel advertised their free wireless internet without informing us that there’s no wireless connections in any of the rooms, only in the hotel lobby.  So I have to come to the hotel’s breakfast nook and put my laptop up on a syrup covered table to write to all of my adoring friends (all 1 of them apparently, thanks for checking me out Doug W., although I know Mark Johnson will come and visit sooner or later;  hey Mark, it’s warm and sunny here hahahaha to you and your Iowan snow!)

Today I didn’t do squat except smoke, write and read.  I read Anthony Bourdain’s The Bobby Gold Stories from cover to cover in a just a couple of hours.  It was OK.  Not the best book I’ve read but absolutely not the worst.  I prefer his fact books over his fiction.  I just picked up Mister Touch by Malcolm Bosse.  I can already tell it will be getting put down just as fast.  Marcia, Sue and Titus went down to the pool earlier today to go for a dip.  Marcia’s mother, Sue, didn’t know how to apply the spray on sunblock and just kind of squirted it on like you would spray perfume or cologne on.  A dash here, a dash there and she thought she’d be good.  I don’t necessarily like laughing at the misery of another (big lie) but it amuses me evertime time I think of or see the splotchy sunburn she has on her legs.  She’s got big, white, pale polka-dots all over her legs amidst the bright red of the sunburn!  Too funny for words.

Marcia and I found this awesome seafood buffet restaurant called Boston Seafood Feast.  They had fried scallops, green mussels, rock crab claws, london broil, oyster Rockefeller, Snow Crab legs and much more on the buffet.  But the capper for me?  What made it the best all-you-can-eat seafood buffet I’ve ever been to?  It was the all-you-can-eat lobster….All….You…Could….Eat!!!  I ate five friggin’ lobsters.  I don’t know whether I should gloat about it or be ashamed at even mentioning it.  I tried numerous times to call my “friends” (wink) Maurice and Lauren to tell them about this blessed heaven burried in this neon jungle but neither picked up the phone.

When we got back from the restaurant and waddled our fat happy selves through the side door of the hotel, I spotted a little green tree frog stuck to the outside window of the foyer.  When I got back to the hotel room, I let Sue and Titus know there was a frog down stairs and Titus just thought it was the coolest thing.  It is now about 10:30 at night, I just got done trying to buy tickets for the family to go to the Pirate’s Adventure dinner show but I found out that you can only order them online 72 hours in advance, not 48 like I tried (those damn pirates and their standards!)  Tomorrow we’re going to Gatorland praying that it doesn’t rain.  If it does end up raining, we’re going to drive the 1 1/2 hours to Clearwater Beach for the day.  I’m still trying to convince Marcia that Medieval Times is the way to go but she won’t listen to me, she’d rather go to the one in Chicago but that’s a different issue for a different day.

Dear sweet Jesus, we actually made it.

Mapquest is a lying bitch.  Our 15 hour drive turned into a 20 hour debacle of crying, arguing, navigating and making restroom stops.  Originally, the plan was to leave our place at aprox. 9 o’clock p.m.  Titus, who is currently potty training, decided that it was his duty to climb into daddy’s suitcase and urinate on his freshly packed clothes.  My mother in law thankfully caught him and helped to was my belongings which ate up more time.  Marcia finally finished grocery and accessory shopping at about 10:30 and finally made it home to pack her things.  This turned into an ordeal that lasted until just about 2 o’clock in the morning.  Please don’t think that the delay is all her fault, if my accident prone ass hadn’t gotten my wrist hurt at work, I would have been somewhat helpful instead of being the guy who kept making jokes at everything that went on.

Finally we made our way out and after grabbing a bite to eat at Steak ‘n’ Shake we were finally on the road.  The plan was for Marcia to drive the first leg of the trip allowing me to sleep and pick up the second leg.  HA!  She made it as far as Columbus, Indiana and said she was getting tired and asked if I could take over.  Already exhausted I drove all the way to Nashville before Marcia woke up.  That’s six hours of nearly nonstop driving.  She asked if I wanted her to take over which I had to decline.  By this time, I’d driven for six hours in total silence in the black of early morning for most of it.  I had become one with the road.  I had reached a Zen-like state in which there was no asphalt and no flesh, there was just a mystical being traveling through space and time.  It was that half sleep state in which with every curve your whole body sways effortlessly and you change lanes with a mere thought.  It’s that feeling that you could drive without holding the steering wheel or depressing the gas peddle, where you use your tele-kinetic powers to make the car move.  Yes, I had reached road oblivion.

Needless to say, my new super power was draining me of energy.  I had to stop and switch places with Marcia.  Unfortunately for me, this was also the time everyone decided to wake up.  As I tried to sleep I was constantly wakened by my wife swerving to avoid accidents or braking to catch an exit(that according to her would not have been her fault and because I love her [and because she'll probably read this blog] I believe her), also Titus thought it would be amusing to keep doing stuff to the top of daddy’s head and then ask me what I was doing as I tried to use my new found super abilities to also catch some Zs. 

I believe I got about two hours of sleep consisting of 10 or 12 couple minute naps interrupted by the events stated above.  Upon waking, I kept my wife thoroughly entertained with my knowledge of Civil War battle sites (I don’t know why she refused to stop at the historic site where Jefferson Davis was captured, I’m sure it’s great family fun).  She also found my jokes about some of the locations we passed absolutely hilarious (please note the sarcasm).  There was a lake that we passed and I swear to you the sign said Lake Witacoochi, the comedy simply writes itself with that one: “How’d you get that rash?”  “Hmmmph….how do you think?   Witacoochi!”  For those of you who know my wife, just think about how amused she was at twenty steady minutes of Witacoochi jokes.

Finally after having learned that the Waffle House chain uses White Lilly flour and sweet cream to make their waffles (they also use 185,000,000 eggs, that’s two percent of all the eggs in the U.S., every year, at least according to the Waffle House I walked into as I stupidly inquired as to what they serve there), taking a picture of me and my family next to a giant plaster cow in Ashburn, Georgia and passing over the Florida state line twice (yes I said twice, since my photography abilities aren’t what they used to be, I missed getting a picture of the “Welcome to Florida, the Sunshine State!” sign as we passed over the border so Marcia wanted to turn around, cross back into Georgia then make another U-turn and come back into Florida so I could get the perfect picture; believe me I got it the next time out of the gnawing fear that Marcia would continue border hopping over the next few hours until I got it right.)

It took another 5 hours before we finally made it to Kissimee, Florida before we finally got a little lost.  I took the wrong way on Florida State Road 535 and headed away from our hotel rather than towards it.  After stopping at a Pizza Hut we made it to the road our hotel is located on only to discover that we were cruising a strip with a bajillion different hotels.  Ours just happened to have the smallest most discreet signage out front.  Right about 11 p.m. we checked into our hotel room, unpacked and collectively collapsed onto the beds.

What could possible make this trip worth it after all of that exhausting work?  I mean, a vacation should be relaxing and quiet, not exhausting and frantic.  Well, when I opened up the sliding door onto our balcony where I pulled up a chair to enjoy a cigar, it was a humid-less low 80s outside with a very cool breeze blowing from the north.  Lake Cecille, which our hotel sits on hence the name Royal Celebration Inn on Lake Cecille, was a beautiful deep blue and just the overall atmosphere was inspiring.  I’m comforted in knowing that back home in Indianapolis, it’s cold and rainy and I could be there complaining about the cold rather than here enjoying the sun, the clouds and the comfortably warm weather.

Dickhead Evangelism:  Is it “Jesus” or “Geez, Ass”!

Evangelism is the word for the tool which Christians use to reach out and make disciples of the world.  There are many techniques used in evangelization and about as many styles as there are evangelizers.  For those not accustomed to using the word in their daily vernacular it can at times mean something negative.  It can invoke feelings of unease and anxiety while some may feel as if it has at times put them on the spot, never a comfortable situation. 

For those doing the evangelizing, for the most part, it is not something that is to be meted out in a negative way.  After all, you’re looking for a positive outcome:  the creation of a new disciple of Christ.  You’re looking to bring someone into the peace and love of the Kingdom of God and to do this they put in to practice that very same peace and love. 

However, there are those that don’t realize how they are coming across or poorly judge what they are saying.  I’ve come to call this “Dickhead Evangelism”.  There are a couple of examples of which I can recall that exemplify this.  The first is from a church I once belonged to.  They’ve adopted a more confrontational sales type approach to spreading the gospel.  Now many of the people in this rather large faith community own their own businesses or are executives in different corporations where these kinds of tactics are commonplace.  This may work in the business world but it doesn’t necessarily translate well in the spiritual realm.

One particular instance of this happening was some friends of mine had invited a couple(who were living together in what would be considered a sinful relationship) over for what appeared to be a friendly dinner.  As it turned out, it was a calculated sales pitch for Jesus.  Tracks were passed out, the gospel was shared and the couple was told that they were living in sin.  WOW!  Where can I sign up to be subjected to that?

The second example was when I was eating lunch at a work cafeteria one cool spring afternoon.  He came up to me and asked me where I was going to church now and I told him the name of a Catholic Church that I was attending.  Well, he exploded, his whole face changed as he pointed his finger at me picked up the theology book I was reading and said, “It’s because you’re reading crap like this!”  It was a copy of N.T. Wright’s The Climax of the Covenant.  Aside from the fact that most people wouldn’t call anything that Wright’s written crap, I was taken a bit aback by the way he came off to me.  I thought that perhaps he was just a little angry at not knowing that I had become a Catholic so I agreed to go to lunch with him later in the week.

I show up and he’s got copies of the bible and The Catechism of the Catholic Church lying open in front of him as he’s furiously writing away and flipping pages.  Upon seeing what was awaiting me, I knew how this was going to go.  He’s a Reformed guy and I know many folks of that ilk have no tolerance or appreciation of anything remotely Catholic.  After a brief hello he started in on me.  The questions he asked didn’t want an answer.  It seemed that he was only asking to confirm his suspicions.  The leading of the questioning was along the lines of the tactics of Jehovah’s Witnesses yet they were also extremely hostile.  The nastier he got, the more I smiled and nodded until I was forced to say, “You know what?  I really don’t care.”  There just comes a point where no answer would ever be good enough.  He kind of smirked and said that over the years he’d become even more Reformed than before.  I figured he’d had to have broken every metaphysical law and become a Reformed black hole where not even common sense can escape. 

In situations like these, there is no intention on the part of the evangelizer to develop a relationship or for the possibility of mutual learning.  I give and you give, you take and I take, we both walk away having grown in appreciation for the other’s belief system.  If you listen while you evangelize you may actually become edified by the person you are trying to talk to.  Who knows, they may even have some spiritual insights you would never have dreamed of. 

Sometimes people just aren’t given enough credit for how smart they are.  Your average person can spot a fake and see right through what they’re trying to do from over a mile away.  There’s nothing genuine in what is being peddled to them so of course they’re not going to buy it.  You pretend to give a crap for the twenty minutes it takes to talk to someone but have no intention of ever actually caring about this person.  But that’s one thing.  Being confrontational and superior is never the way to go.

 I once heard a martial artist say that the western fighting styles are about imposing your will on your opponent, whereas in the east it’s about helping take someone to the ground who’s already on his way down.  Hostile evangelization techniques are all about imposing your will on someone else (although some who have only ever used those styles may see it as God’s will being imposed).   Being someone’s traveling  companion through their spiritual journey is more of the eastern method of just helping someone who’s already moving. 

  The Universe – A Review

As I was growing I held to a deep fascination with space.  I would buy books filled with artist renderings, I would attend some club meetings (like the Orange County Astronomers), I would even take as many opportunities as I could to go star-gazing with my friend (he had this immense telescope that took three people to lug around and put together).  Something about it all helped to put into perspective how small, how much of a tiny blip we really are.  It was a story unto itself.  Endless abysses, roiling tempests of fire, soaring vistas, all bigger than imagination itself the universe held so many mysteries left to be discovered.

The History Channel’s series The Universe is one of those great outlets for the imagination.  Though it is a show based on science and facts it truly lends credence to the phrase “truth is stranger than fiction”.  Each episode explores new vistas and new ideas as it takes us on a field trip beyond our own backyard.  From planets in our solar system, to dark matter, to the life and death of stars, each show helps us to realize how much more is truly out there to be discovered.  Each hour long episode reminds us how much we don’t know or understand about the existence of all things, let alone our selves.

For every new subject tackled, experts in each field add their two cents to the bigger picture.  Each guest has the knowledge AND charisma to help us to understand some of the harder to grasp concepts of astronomy and astrophysics.  Along with the professionals The History Channel illustrates via computer animation what these different things would look like.  When available, photos from different observatories and satellites are used to help propel our imaginations through the stunning array of canvases the show is painting for us.  This is all done in such a way that whether you’re an auditory learner or a visual learner, you’ll walk away more educated and inspired.

As I watch each episode, I can’t help but feel stunned by it all.  There are times when I have to pause my DVR, close my eyes and imagine what it all is like.  The sizes and distances that are spoken of are blindingly incomprehensible.  The odd things that happen which defy all sense of our own physical reality (like something which is measured in miles spinning 11 times every second) boggle the mind.  It can almost leave you mad if thought about for too long.

But with all of the immensity, all of the destructive power the universe holds there is a depth and beauty to it that defies speech.  I can only think of one word to even describe what I think and feel, “God!”  I don’t intend for that to mean some sort of pantheistic idea where everything is god and god is in everything.  I simply mean that as I ponder it all, the first thing that comes to mind is that this has all been touched by God.  Too often when I’m praying or reading scripture I forget just how BIG God is, how utterly “Other Than” he is compared to me and all that I know. 

God is the God of the universe.  Too often I see that as God is the God of my little world that lives in my head.  Every so often, something comes along to help put into perspective just how wrong I am and just how small I’m thinking.  I know it may sound odd but the show The Universe is almost like a catalyst for a mystical experience with God.  Sometimes you become so in awe of the power of God and his creative abilities that you have to lock yourself away in your prayer closet and bask in the glorious mystery of it all.  I know that everyone who watches this show will not be affected in the same way (heck, my wife thinks I’m a nut for watching it all the time) but I hope that as your surfing through the channels looking fro something to watch, you’ll stop for a moment and enjoy a guided tour through the amazing universe.

  John Constantine Hellblazer:  All His Engines – A Review

Many great writers have given us the stories of John Constantine (Alan Moore, Garth Ennis, Warren Ellis) each taking turns at spinning yarns about the dark, brooding bane of Hell.  For those worried that Mike Carey (Ultimate Fantastic Four, X-Men) wouldn’t be able to carry such a heavy mantle, put your minds at ease.  All His Engines is a well thought out story of salvation, turf wars, and old gods. 

When a strange disease that causes children to fall into comas claims Chas Chandler’s grand-daughter Tricia as its next victim, Chas turns to his best friend John to help save her.  As the story begins to unfold we learn that Tricia is being held hostage by a demon with plans to take over all of Los Angeles as his own territory.  The demon’s scheme is to force Constantine into working for him to chase rival demons out of L.A.  Constantine reluctantly agrees, knowing full well that the demon has no intention of releasing Chas’ grand-daughter after he’d fulfilled his part of the deal. 

Carey’s idea behind this tale is great.  I mean, come one!  A demon gang war in Los Angeles for the control of lost souls?  Fantastic!  The way that Carey lets the story unfold allows it to keep its secrets close to the chest.  I can’t begin to even count how many twists and turns were involved as it all comes to a rather climactic finish.

I think what truly makes me enamored with the character of John Constantine is what he is underneath the surface.  Sure he has the airs of someone who has seen and been through too much to want to care anymore.  Sure he has his own scarred and checkered past and don’t forget the trench coat and chain smoking that lend itself to the sense of John being more dark than he actually is.  But I would like to offer that with all of the occult stuff aside, John Constantine is quite Christ-like.

I don’t mean that he is Christ-like in a Messianic way.  He is Christ-like in the way that we as followers of Jesus are called to be.  He takes up the cause of the weak and downtrodden.  Even though he comes off as someone who is solely self serving, almost everything he does is for the greater good.  Mostly, it’s because he does in the physical what we are called to participate in among the spiritual realms.  The way that Constantine faces down and is willing to deal with the frightening manifestations of the demonic realms are much akin to what we are called to do in our spiritual lives.

Constantine is a shining example of what a gruff Christian would probably look like:  a little world weary and weather worn, sometimes a bit rough around the edges, but always TRYING to do what is right, whether even if it means sacrificing things greater than he could have imagined.  John Constantine may unwillingly be a great Christian example for us to follow.  Is it any wonder?  After all, his initials are J. C.

My thoughts on The Moment of Truth

There are questions that everyone wants to know.  But we keep some of our secrets to ourselves.  As honest as we would like to consider ourselves, as much as we’d like to think that our lives are an open book for anyone to read, there are things that we keep inside.  Those are our deepest, darkest secrets.  We keep them to ourselves to protect others and to protect who we are. 

There is a difference between living a lie and keeping a secret.  Living a lie is going throughout your day-to-day existence pretending you are something you are not.  Keeping a secret is not as destructive as perpetuating a lie and it’s not the same thing.  We all know someone who has confided in us and given laid out their heart to us, asking us never to tell a soul.  To tell someone else would be damaging to the relationship as well as to the individuals involved. 

And so enters The Moment of Truth (hosted by Mark L. Walburg).  Most people know I have a disdain for reality TV.  Some of it stems from the lack of reality it shows (people act differently when they’re on camera), some of it comes from the people that watch the tripe that comes on the screen, but most of it comes from the networks that push this reality-porn on a (now) writer-less, TV starved nation.  But this is actually really pushing the limits of any kind of decency for me.  A show where you win $500,000 if you don’t lie to very personal, often closed door questions is appalling. 

On this show a contestant is strapped up to a lie detector and is grilled with 21 questions.  While the audience sits and awaits the climax of this mental masturbation.  What is wrong with our lives that we need to sit and listen to the most hidden of people’s personal secrets to get some entertainment?  Either way a person answers, we know they’re going to be humiliated and someone is going to leave the show emotionally scarred (if you check out the message board on the official website, you’ll find one discussion about what people’s guesses are for the amount of breakups/divorces this show will cause.)

Survivor is one thing, Big Brother is another, but this?  This is just poor taste in recording and viewing.  Questions like “Do you wish you were still single?” and “Do you think you’ll still be married in five years?” are absolutely worthless questions.  As a married person myself, there have been times when I’ve answered yes and no to both of those questions.  No need to share those answers with the rest of the world so I can make a quick buck.  How about a reality show that puts the producers on trial?  “What won’t you do for advertiser’s money?”  “How many people are you willing to humiliate for a buck?” “How ‘bout we rake you over the coals and air your dirty laundry in front of the nation as we watch your family stare in horror?”

I may live a dull life at times.  You know what, that’s what makes me more than happy.  It makes me appreciate the interesting times more than if I was constantly on the go.  But I don’t need to watch the misery of others to make myself complete.  I don’t just blame the producers, I blame the viewers.  If there weren’t people out there who’s day wouldn’t be truly over unless they watched someone having a more miserable life than they are, the networks would stop making this vomit.  I’m going to do myself and the world a favor by voting with my remote.  This is why I have DVR and a DVD player. 

Punisher War Journal: Vol. 2 – A Comic Review

The Punisher has always been one of my favorite comic book characters. He’s ruthless, he’s intelligent and he doesn’t care what anyone thinks about him. He’s out to serve his own brand of justice. But it is undeniable, the Punisher is bad. He does things no comic book hero would do, he kills people on purpose. Punisher War Journal: Vol. 2 is truly no different.

In the story arc Hunter/Hunted, Matt Fraction (The Immortal Iron Fist: Vol. 2) brings the fabled vigilante back to the Marvel universe. The story is told mainly from Rhino’s point of view. After a bank robbery involving Rhino and a couple of street thugs ends up with a security guard getting accidentally killed, Punisher goes on the warpath. While Spider-Man and Punisher are trying to take Rhino down, Kraven the Hunter’s son enters the story. Interestingly enough, his name is Kraven the Hunter too.

The most interesting thing about this storyline is the fact that Kraven is going around collecting super-villains to put them into his own little zoo. That makes for an interesting idea, and the fact that much of the story unfolds from Rhino’s perspective as the victim of a dehumanizing process, this story should read fascinatingly. Unfortunately, it doesn’t. While the story is unique and imaginative, the delivery leaves a lot to be desired.

Punisher kills off your average bottom-of-the-barrel super-villains, while the bigger names get away to fight other heroes; same story, different issue. Even though Fraction weaves some humor into the story, I wish there were more. It definitely would have made this story go down easier. By the time I finished the story arc, all I could think was, “You’re kidding me. That’s it? This is what all the fuss is about?” It’s too bad really. There could have been so much more done to this book.

I am actually left to wonder why this book received some great/good reviews. The only reason I can come up with is that you read so much mediocre stuff that imaginative mediocrity really seems spectacular. But it does help to raise the question of why do we feel okay with the punisher waxing super-villains, while we would look with disdain on any author that turned Spidey or Iron Man into ruthless killers. Perhaps we are comfortable with him doing the things he does because of who he does it to.

Think about it, if Batman were to kill Two-Face, there would be a definite loss felt in the comic world. If Lex Luthor were to be utterly destroyed by Superman, a gaping wound would be felt in the side of the DC universe. You could say this for The Fantastic Four and Doctor Doom, the X-Men and Magneto, even the Silver Surfer and Galactus. We’re talking about characters, villains, that we’ve grown up with, who have been made complex and real in ways that Kincknack, Night Thrasher and Reaper never were (yes, those are actually super villains).

Often times this translates into real life as well. We find that as long as the bad guys are the bad guys and they can stay relatively faceless and nameless (while we do not necessarily condone killing them) we are more comfortable with them gone than we would with someone we actually knew. Every human life is important and every person is mourned by someone else. Every life in some way is important, this is why the bigger issues of the world should be a concern for those of us who are not faced with adversity on a daily basis. While there are at times so many causes to support out there that it can make your head spin, it is important to at least concern yourself with the welfare of others and maybe try making your best attempt at lending a hand. You never know, the next one to be cared for may be you.

Metalocalypse – A Review

Since High School I’ve been a fan of everything Metal. I was a fan of Metallica before the “Black Album”, I had a Sepultura logo sticker on my SUV and anything with double-bass made me shiver with Metal glee. Anyone who has been through a Metal phase (or is still going through one) knows exactly what I’m talking about. Almost like a drug you seek out the bands and the songs that are more brutal and more heavy hitting than anything that came before. With this in mind, Metalocalypse brings in the mother lode.

The brainchild of Brendon Small and Tommy Blacha Metalocalypse is a cartoon featured on Cartoon Network’s [adult swim]. Short in running time but long in laughs, these mini-episodes bring us the greatest metal band ever: Dethklok. An amalgamation of Scandinavian and American heavy metal band mates Dethklok is the largest and most successful band on the planet (the band itself is the 12^th largest economy in the world.) Their fans are willing to go to any lengths to appease them and the band members are just as willing to appease, well, themselves.

Metalocalypse ingeniously parodies everything in the metal genre. Featuring Nathan Explosion on vocals, Toki Wartooth and Skwisgaard Skwigelf on guitars, William Murderface on bass and Pickles on drums, the band is the cartoon version of the Three Stooges.. The band’s enormous mansion, Mordhaus, seems as though it’s been ripped from an album cover in some obscure half-off sale dustbin in the back of a music store.

With obscure references (like a fast-food joint named Dimmu Burger, an allusion to the Norwegian band Dimmu Borgir) and guest voice over work from various musicians and singers (Kirk Hammett and James Hetfield from Metallica make appearances) there is something for fans from every point on the metal map. There is even a real Dethklok album for those who can’t get enough of Heavy Metal Coffee jingles and birthday songs (there’s even a Dethklok tour coming to an area near you.)

Now, one might wonder how another cartoon along the lines of South Park and Beevis and Butthead could even remotely have anything to offer an individual and society as a whole. Other than the laughs from the antics and entertainment you’ll get from the music, what can this show offer? Just like those two previously mentioned cartoons, Metalocalypse has more to say than you might see at first glance.

The fans of Dethklok, while amusing, serve as a reminder that following the pack and those that are leader can be a dangerous proposition if thought is left out of the equation. These people are obviously a parody of the mindless music fanatics that appear in every musical genre. From rap to country, from rock to folk music, there are those people who toss their minds out the window when it comes to what a group of people has to say about something. Music SHOULD stir the soul, music SHOULD put to prose new ideas and enlightening thoughts but the listeners of that same music SHOULD also think before they leap.

It’s very closely related to the issue of fans fawning over political or spiritual advice from actors and actresses simply because of their status in our community. There are professionals for that kind of thing. I don’t ask a carpenter for advice on how to write a review, I don’t ask a priest or a pastor how to prosecute someone on trial. Though these same people may have some background in it and they often times have their own strongly held opinions on different matters, theirs isn’t the advice that I would seek in those matters. As a people and a society who thrive on entertainment, we must constantly be willing to have ourselves challenged by the views expressed by the entertainer but also we need to engage that part of our intelligence that examines what is laid before us and dissect it for what it really means.

All told, Metalocalypse definitely isn’t for the faint of heart. It is not a cartoon that you sit and watch with your kids (or even if your kids are awake in the other room, wait until they’re at a sleep over or they’ve been knocked out for an hour or two). If you are easily offended by the offerings of the South Park gang, steer well clear of Metalocalypse. But if you have iron for skin and you wash your sensitivities with a pad of steel wool, I’d give this short cartoon a whirl. Whether or not you are a fan of this musical style, you’re sure to get some laughs.

 Human Weapon – A Review 

Battered and Bruised

The History Channel is well known for its own versions of reality-tv.  Shows such as The Naked Archaeologist and History Undercover have garnered their own cult-like followings.  Human Weapon has quickly become one of those shows.  Former MMA welterweight champion Jason Chambers and football player turned wrestler Bill Duff take their viewers on a journey throughout the world exploring different martial arts.  At each stop they are given a week to study as intensively as they possibly can and are given a challenge to fight a champion in that week’s chosen style.

Equal parts boxing match and history documentary, Human Weapon brings to the average tv viewer a chance to see martial arts they may never have experienced.  Savate French street fighting, Russian Sambo, Eskrima stick fighting from the Phillipines are merely a fraction of the different fighting styles Bill and Jason attempt to learn on their journey.  Each of these techniques have their own amazing background and history attached to them that are fleshed out during the course of the program. 

With each new combat style come different training regimens.  Aside from the fighting, this period of mental, spiritual and physical toughening is the most entertaining portion of the show.  Each week we watch these two warriors try to tough it out as their endurance is pushed to the limit.  Even as I sit on my semi-comfortable couch, I begin to sweat and pant heavily as Jason and Bill trudge up another hill or pound there fists into a tree. 

Although the entertainment value is there, the History Channel could never let a show slip by without oodles and oodles of neat-o information.  As the bruised duo learn new moves we are shown computer models of what it should look like.  As the computer avatars present to the viewer what is happening, the move and the potential damage it can do to an opponent is explained.  It’s amazing to learn what the human body is capable of dishing out and absorbing.  Who knew that bone is better than concrete or that an elbow to the head is the equivalent of using a hammer?  Good things to know when signing my kid up for Pankration lessons.

As Jason and Bill skip from master to master and school to school, one interesting thing to note was that they became more and more humble as time went on.  I’m not trying to say that they went into the venues with noses in the air but they definitely learned an appreciation for the different fighters that they met and the different techniques.  You could also watch the transformation as they blended the physical nature of their jobs with the mental and spiritual exercises necessary for fighting concentration.  A valuable lesson if you ask me.

I will admit that I did begin to look up schools for Krav Maga and Muay Thai in my hometown (amazingly enough we have some).  But I wasn’t looking at them so that I could become the next Jet Li.  I was looking for the training regimens.  This show has reminded me of my short-comings as a human being seeking to be all that God has created me to be.  Sure, I can pray and meditate with the best of them (humility is not one of my strong suits), but boy, I don’t have the discipline necessary to keep my body in shape.  Watching these two men attempting to find a balance between the body and the soul has made me realize that good spiritual balance should allow me to be able to discipline my body to do the things I want it to do (like stop eating hotdogs and start eating whole grain bread.)

I’m not saying that being out of shape makes me a bad Christian but having that balance and control of mind, body and spirit can help allow me to overcome the obstacles that present themselves to each one.  There are plenty of incidents in the epistles where we find Paul exhorting us to keep our bodies trained as well as our spirits.  Maybe it’s time for me to start whipping myself into shape.  How ‘bout you?

Hatter M: The Looking Glass Wars – A Comic Review

Imagining a Mad, Mad World

It’s great to read well known classic stories.  It’s even better to read reinterpretations of time tested tales.  Hatter M:  The Looking Glass Wars is the comic spinoff of Frank Beddor’s (producer of There’s Something About Mary) trilogy of novels entitled Alyss in Wonderland.  Co-Written with Liz Cavalier and with all of the artwork by Ben Templesmith (30 Days of Night, Singularity 7) sets the story straight about Lewis Carroll’s young Alice and her trials and tribulations.Set in 1859 this comic recounts the history of what we know of as the Mad Hatter. 

His name is Hatter Madigan and he is the personal bodyguard of Alyss Heart, the princess of Wonderland.  He has an enormous problem:  After a coup brought down the reigning queen of Wonderland (Queen Heart, the ruler of a magical world where our fantasy is their reality), Alyss and Hatter jumped into another reality, ours.  In the turbulence of the journey Hatter lost track of his charge and must now make his way through our world and its many dangers to restore his princess to power. 

Hatter is one character who is as tough as nails and is as sharp as tacks.  He is not afraid to enter any situation or confront any amount of enemies in his pursuit of Alyss.  He comes well armed with blades that shoot from his sleeves and one of the coolest weapons I’ve ever seen, his hat.  Working like a boomerang, he throws his topper like a Frisbee and while it spins to its target, it flattens out and becomes a rotating circle of blades.

Frank Beddor and Liz Cavalier spin a great yarn of a great fantasy character crashing into our reality.  How they portray the different characters from Carroll’s original deserves to be applauded.  Who would have thought the Cheshire Cat would be great in an assassin’s role?  And the new elements that they’ve added to the story, like vampires who feed on children’s imaginations and a secret society trying to rid the world of said imaginations.

Once again, Ben Templesmith proves to all that he has a real genius for the use of colors.  With each turn of the page, we are presented with an explosion of colors that are rarely seen (or played with).  One page could be nothing but green but the subtle variations and tones help to pull you into the story and make Hatter Madigan’s nightmare world more real (he was able to do the same thing with the color gray in 30 Days of Night).  His characters once again are creepy and have an otherworldly quality about them.  You wouldn’t want to meet one in a back alley somewhere.

All that took to bring this book together required a great amount of imagination.  It’s only fitting to have part of the story be about imagination and the world’s need for it.  We were granted wonderful imaginations when we were young.  Listening to my son talk and watching him play it’s amazing to see how much of our early lives are made up by fantasy.  People tend to lose that imagination as they get older but it is so essential to us as a human being fully alive.  We relate to the stories that we hear of the past through the use of our creative minds. 

If we hear the mystical and the mythical we have to employ that part of our brains that makes the fantastic, believable.  The Epic of Gilgamesh, the Odyssey, the Gospels:  all of these are stories in which the only way that we can relate is to use our imaginations.  In that way these worlds can become real again.  So join with the writers and artist of this great book to celebrate the gift that is my imagination.