The Post That Says What's Going On

Okay, I've had rather a lack of internet, and will at least through mid-July.

Worse, when I do have internet, it's with a censoring program. Now I'm not necessarily philosophically opposed to censoring programs, but this one is different. It censors Blogspot, where I submit posts for this site.

So, I have now updated, adding three posts previously put up on the Xanga account I run in tandem with this(It does have posts that this doesn't--but unless you know me personally, they're probably of rather little interest.) There may be future updates that I'd like to put here but only can put on my Xanga, but there probably won't be. I am, after all, getting married in 19 days--and that (combined with applying for permanent jobs and juggling temp jobs) is keeping me rather busy, as it rightfully should.

I have quite missed my blogging, though, so I fully expect to resume my previous semi-steady blogging schedule once I live in an appartment with internet.

Until then, cheers!

Backing Into Walls

I like to have my back against the wall. It's the place where I feel safest.

When your back's against the wall, you're dealing with absolutes. There's no room for stepping back, no room for choosing your footing. You fight because you have to. And that, for me, often seems a much surer place to be than driving forward, pressing the fight but knowing that there are a million places you can go--and a million places from which you can be attacked.

Thus when I first started dating Hannah, I didn't ask her just because I wanted to or thought she would make a great girlfriend--though both were very much the case. I asked her because I wanted to so bad that I couldn't try to pretend friendship for long without either telling Hannah of my interest (and risking the consequences) or poisoning the relationship with feelings that I'm being dishonest. In other words, my back was against the wall, and the only way I knew of even having a real significant friendship with Hannah was to run the risk of asking for what I really desired--a romantic relationship.

On the most extreme level, it was this tendency that lead me to obsess over the subject of "certainty of salvation," and was half the reason why I reacted so violently against Calvinism the first time I saw it. (The other half was bad Calvinists, but I'm not going there.) For me serving God, I wanted to have my back against the wall. I wanted to know that I was saved, and I wanted my salvation to be the firm wall which I could brace myself firmly against while "fighting the good fight." Then Calvinists began to muddy the waters, to show me the verses and make arguments that I can't necessarily know I've been saved based on a moment in my personal history when I uttered a certain prayer, but that God saves us according to His will through His purposes in a long and mysterious process.

I didn't like it. Trusting God's promises was something I could do--especially when they were clearly laid out by my Sunday School teacher. But to trust God, who is by his very definition beyond our understanding? That was another matter entirely. It was much easier to rest on God's Word, and easier still to rest on what Pastors Tom and Reggie said about God's Word. And after all, didn't God inspire the Scriptures for a reason? And didn't those Scriptures talk about the importance of listening to one's teachers?

But by now, I think I'm beginning to come around--at least somewhat. After all, God says that he is a fortress to his people, and a merciful God whose lovingkindness never fails. God says that he will draw near to those who seek him. God never claims to be a wall--but He is the shepheard who seeks that one lamb who willfully wandered astray, leaving the many faithful waiting patiently in their stable. So maybe He shall teach me to trust Him, and to live as though I am one of the righteous elect--so that by faith, one more sinner may be saved.

I'm still not sure how exactly I feel about "certainty of salvation." It could be that it is the absolute truth, and one more example of God reaching down towards man. Or it could be a false Savior built by man in order to make salvation a simple and easy-to-qualify commodity that can be had at the most affordable price. Even in the case of the latter, it has certainly been a useful first step for many faithful, teaching them to cast off fear and reach gratefully to their Savior, whose blood mingles with Esau's and brings substance back into all the hopes and dreams of man. But I think it is good to trust in God, and good to press forward in faith--even (and perhaps especially) when that means feeling the chilling breeze of nothing but air on your back.

Lash the oars to our hands and let us pull
We're sick of these suffocating landlocked days of talk and drool.
What's it like to love where youre going?
Futher on and futher in till these eyes are closing.

2 Thumbs Up on a Dead Man's Chest

(Actually, I'm amazed I never saw that pun before.)

Anyway, full review of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest will probably come here eventually. For now, initial thoughts.

I agree completely with Amber's comments about comparisons with Empire. I'll add that this was darker and more ominous than the first, included more deliberate attempts to establish grand, mythological undertones, focused on morally-ambivalent choices to highlight the heroic nature of the tale, etc. I'm not going to give spoilers, but think of Luke's departure from Dagobah, combining his choice to start down the "easy path" with the resonating "I'll be back, I promise." The similarity with themes of Dead Man's Chest seems strong enough to be intentional.

I also completely disagree with virtually every reviewer, who gave the film mixed reviews. I had hope for Roger Ebert, but he's in the hospital and his stand-in is another one of those dratted film snobs.

I have a principle of viewing a film 3x before being certain that it's a truly good film. Some films (like Spider-Man) tend to degrade after one viewing. I really don't think Dead Man's Chest will be one of those films. It just had too much great stuff--jaw dropping action, strong enough characters that you really care about everyone, that mythological feel that should be there in any use of legendary material (but rarely is), and above all an excellent sense of pace and visual flare. It even seemed less "Disney-ified" than the first one (despite being preceeded by the first live-action-looking Disney Castle.) All in all, a wonderful movie.

Another thing--I love the use of details. The music box. The love letters (not Elisabeth-related, for those who haven't seen the film.) The authentic East India Trading Company logos. Even the whimsical fingers around Depp's neck among the canibal islands. They're quickly becoming a Pirates distinctive, and often add an emotional level in much the same way as the green apples from the first film, only better. I love details, and you just generally don't ever see this level of attention to narrative-enhancing detail in adventure films. I don't think that was even the case in Raiders of the Lost Ark, the all-time greatest adventure film.

Finally, I must say that the film can't be truly judged before the trilogy is complete. There are a lot of plotlines, some established with just one shot or one conversation, that are clearly setup for the third film. And it's very good setup, too. Lots of opportunities for characters to examine just what heroism, loyalty, honor, love, etc. mean--and to do so with Heroic Actions in Cool Action Scenes. It may sound generic, but there's a reason why movies like Pirates are so popular and rare--it's a lot harder to pull off that straightforward Hollywood heroism than it looks. There really is a lot more to pirate movies than pretty people waving swords in front of beautiful backgrounds. There's got to be a real story behind it, and it's got to suck the viewer in and never spit them out. Dead Man's Chest does a good job at the sucking in part--and holds great promise for an excellent finish in Pirates 3.

The Blogger Is Not Dead, Just Hibernating

I really miss being able to write frequently on my Xanga and Blogger accounts. Unfortunately, however, I probably won't have time and internet for real updates until after Hannah and I settle down in our own house as wife and husband and get our own internet service.

Until then, brief random thoughts of me:

1) I've been thinking a lot about a GKC quote as of late. I can't remember the phrasing at all, but I can remember that it was part of a defense of marriage from Manalive, and set out basically three options for living a Christian life. The two good ones were being married to God (i.e. a specifically chosen life of community and fellowship that requires chastity--as a Catholic, for Chesterton this meant being a priest or nun.), or being married to someone else. The bad option was to be single, "which really only means being married to oneself--the one person you can never fully please and the one person who is incapable of pleasing you."

That phrase has really stuck out a lot with me. It's been there in celebration of the wonderful relationship I have with Hannah, but it's also been there to chastize me a bit. Last week, I was really feeling more stress than I should because I kept trying to make sure that I acted in a way that would make Hannah happy, but in using my own standards and turning to a self-centered internal cycle so that I could do everything in a way that she couldn't help but feel happy with my thoughtfullness and kindness and consideration.
The result was that I only looked at myself through my own eyes, and only generally saw questions and unknowns and imperfections. I saw how I could do better, but without taking the time to relax with Hannah and realize from her where I am doing wonderfully, I was heading myself into an area where I only really think about myself. Chesterton reminded me that what I should do instead is let myself enjoy Hannah, and just generally allow myself to love her and treat her wonderfully without demanding that I know everything and do everything perfectly.

I think there's an allegory there. Something about God and the Church. Though it is reverse of the traditional interpretation, but still...

2) Writing a space-opera-ish novel is "yay." Watching Le Portrait de Petite Cosette while writing a book is very "yay," and interesting. Watching Cosette while in love = the same.

Cosette is all about love, and portrait-making, and corruption, and beauty, and sacrifice. They interact in interesting ways. It's also a gothic ghost-story, and a Japanese horror anime (complete with the odd camera angles, use of grainy footage, tendency to switch to black and white, and blood. Lots of blood.) I think one of the many morals of the story is that art (including novel-writing) has the ability to capture the truth and beauty of its subjects--but it also can murder its subjects when pursuing abstract "beauty."

But of course, you can't ever state the moral of myth, it quite defeats the point. (I'm reminded of an Andrew Rilstone article stating that The Chronicles of Narnia work marvelously as a representation of God and Christianity, but only if you don't think of them as representing God and Christianity while reading them.) In any case, I highly recommend Cosette for anyone who can appreciate Really Bizarre Anime and stomach Lots of Graphically Violent Blood--it's beautifully drawn, a beautiful story, and really makes one think about a lot of really important things in life. And hopefully, in a few years, other people will be able to recommend my then-completed science-fiction story.

There are other things. But (1) turned into a real entry, and now it's time for me to get off the computer.