I don't have the answers

 First off, I should acknowledge the fact that I didn't "lose" my faith, so much as I've misplaced it. While I can't in good conscience classify myself among Christians anymore, that doesn't mean that I'm not open to the idea of religion, I am simply no longer convinced by it. No, I wasn't recently exposed to the corruption of the church. No, a loved one didn't die recently. No, I'm not dying (to my knowledge).

How did I abandon Christianity after 30 years of (mostly) fervent belief?

Short answer: I read the Bible.

Some background on me, for those of you who don't know me very well. My dad is a pastor, or at least, he was until he and my mom divorced and Southern Baptist dogma prevented him from ever working in a church again. Christianity was the truth, as much as physics or biology, and I never really had any reason to doubt it. Of course, as so many of us do, I hit my mid-20s and started to question everything I believed. Faith wasn't enough anymore. I've got nothing against faith, and it'd be silly to suggest that we don't all rely on it at some point, but even common faith like "my car will start today" or "my wife will still love me tomorrow" is predicated on some fundamental truth. I was having trouble finding this fundamental truth in my religion. So like any struggling Christian in the middle of a crisis of faith, I talked to other Christians. Maybe the best answer came from a seminary graduate friend of mine who, upon me observing that I couldn't see the truth in religion anymore, asked if I was truly seeking it.

This bit of self-reflection hit hard, as after high school I'd relegated church-going and scripture-reading as things to do on a whim. Desperate for knowledge, I poured myself into the Bible. Sure, I'd read my Bible when I was younger, but it was usually select passages that re-affirm, I'd never taken in the entire thing. I'd certainly tried as a kid, but usually lost interest when I got to the begats. My priority, this time, was to read objectively, as a person just looking for truth, rather than someone automatically taking everything read as gospel (if you'll pardon the pun). You're probably not surprised to find out that a story about a talking snake and people made out of mud isn't the most convincing origin of life. This didn't deter me however, because unlike so many simple-minded religious and non-religious people, I recognize that artistic license isn't a new concept. What artistic license doesn't account for, however, is the little inconsistencies that basically put everything I've ever been taught into complete disarray. It turns out Lucifer isn't the devil, at least, not according to the Bible. Someone read John Milton and word of mouth spread and eventually I was being told (by very educated and religious parents) a story about a conceited angel whom God cast down, despite there being absolutely no record of that ever happening in the book our entire religion was based on. Unfortunately this wasn't an isolated incident of misinterpretation. It was frustrating, as an adult, to discover. I felt duped. I was disappointed in all of the highly intelligent people I've known who would just accept these stories without fact-checking. It wasn't enough, though. This didn't prove, or disprove, anything. As a fairly progressive Christian, I'd long moved past concepts like the devil and hell. I'd already accepted that Satan (which translates as "accuser") was a metaphor for man's inherent evil and hell wasn't a lake of fire, but simply Earth without the presence of God. My heretical interpretations of the Bible aside, I still described myself as a Christian, though I'd often amend the term with "liberal", "progressive", or "critical." My religion was more about helping the poor and the meek, rather than condemning sinners or abiding by an arbitrary list of rules. My religion was completely independent of my politics. My religion didn't clash with science. What my religion clashed with, was my own logical compass.

Something still didn't feel right. How could there be so little historical corroboration for the man whom one of the world's largest religions was founded on? Why was God such a vicious tyrant and then one day turned into a loving father? Why did the Old Testament read like a book about polytheism, despite the decades I'd been bred in a monotheistic faith? There were just too many questions with too many insufficient answers. It felt intellectually, and spiritually, dishonest to call myself a Christian, despite not believing a large bulk of the tenets of Christianity.

Where does that leave me? I don't hate religion, at least, no more than I did when I was still a part of it. I still believe in God, I simply have no concept of what God is, beyond "the genesis of life." God could be an omniscient spiritual entity just as much as it could be ancient celestial aliens who seed planets. I could very well come back to Christianity or some other religion in my search for answers, but it seems unlikely since it hinges on faith and I am seeking truth.

How does that change my life? I'm still figuring that out. It's hard to de-program 30 years of religion, particularly when so much of that was the driving force behind my personal code of honor and ethics, as well being how I identified as a human being. I'll keep giving to my monthly charities. I won't feel guilty for acting on sexual urges. I'll continue to study the Bible, among other texts. I'll probably pray a lot less. I'll hate and distrust the government about the same. I'll always be up for a good religious debate. I might start saying "goddamn." We'll see.

Oh, please don't tell my mom.

Anticipating the Throne

With the much ballyhooed third season of Game of Thrones nearly upon us, both longtime fans of the books and show creators David Benioff and D.B. Weiss seem to be anxious for one thing: the Red Wedding. While this is no doubt a pivotal (and shocking) moment in the book series, I find myself more excited about half a dozen or so other things that happen in A Storm of Swords, though some of these things won't occur until the fourth season.

Introduction of Dorne

To be fair, I'm leading off with one of the less glamorous events I'm anticipating.  It's not a particularly impactful or heart-stopping moment, but the Dornish host descending upon King's Landing is only the beginning of one of the more intriguing aspects of the War of Five Kings, and Dorne is my personal favorite region of Westeros (for non-readers, Dorne is where Tyrion shipped Myrcella off to in the second season).  We've yet to see anyone from Dorne, or even hear much about them on the show, but it plays a great importance on the story to come, particularly the Martells of Sunspear. I doubt we'll see anyone from Dorne pop up in the third season, but I'm hoping their entrance on the show is as grand as it is in the books, with all of the major houses represented as Tyrion tests Podrick Payne's knowledge of their sigils.

The Hound vs. The Lightning Lord

We haven't seen Beric Dondarrion since his brief appearance in the first season when Eddard Stark sent him to seek justice for Gregor Clegane's war crimes, but he's come a long way since those (seemingly) peaceful days. He now leads the Brotherhood Without Banners, a group of outlaws who serve no master, except that of the common man and he fights with a flaming sword.  We've already seen glimpses of this fight in the season three previews and it looks as though the show creators are giving it the amount of focus it deserves.

Jaime Lannister + Brienne of Tarth = ?

Season two delved a bit into A Storm of Swords, but season three is where the Jaime/Brienne relationship is really going to blossom. They've omitted Cleos Frey, and rumors have indicated Vargo Hoat has been significantly changed, but I have faith that Jaime and Brienne's journey is going to retain it's road trip/buddy comedy appeal as well as give the t.v. audience a deeper appreciation for Jaime Lannister.

The Red Viper vs. The Mountain That Rides

This won't happen until the last episode or two of season four, but it's probably my most anticipated moment of the next two seasons. There's no way to set this duel up without giving away loads of spoileriffic plot details, but Prince Oberyn Martell has not only come to King's Landing to celebrate King Joffrey's wedding, but also to seek justice for the rape and murder of his sister Elia and her children during Robert's Rebellion. It's a furious fight that I'm hoping will retain all of the frenetic energy from the books, as it comes from one of the single best chapters in the entire series.


Joffrey's Wedding

 Most people think A Storm of Swords and immediately think "Red Wedding," but I am far more eager to see Joffrey Baratheon and Margaery Tyrell wed. There will be dwarfs, dogs, pigs, pigeon pies, singers, jugglers, a joust of sorts, and no Lannister celebration is complete without 77 renditions of "The Rains of Castamere." This is arguably the single event that changes the scope of the war and those involved; this is where G.R.R. Martin crosses the Rubicon. Don't expect to see Joffrey's wedding until 2014.

The Wall 

While the groundwork will be layed in season three, I'll be surprised if we see any sort of payoff before next year. The King Beyond the Wall is massing a wildling host to take Westeros, but first he must contend with the Night's Watch and the Wall. With moments both thrilling and touching, this is one of the biggest and best battles in the series and my personal favorite.

Daenerys storms Slavers Bay

More fighting. A Storm of Swords is usually considered everyone's favorite book, and the massive amounts of payoff in the form of fights and battles is a big part of that.  Daenery Targaryen has been building her strength for two seasons, with little success, but season three is where she picks up her Unsullied army and begins her journey as a Warrior Queen the likes of which no one has seen since Nymeria conquered Dorne. For everyone who hated sitting through Dany hemming and hawing about her dragons being stolen, this is the moment of the show where she finally comes into her own and proves her worth. Expect her conquest to last two full seasons.

Jumping into fiction

I stumbled across this old intro to a short story I wrote awhile back to complement some nerdy tabletop RPGing I was doing at the time and found myself energized to write fiction again, but was curious to hear outside opinions.  My determination to write fiction isn't so strong that I'll be put off by negative feedback, so please, don't hold back on constructive criticism.  I'm not worried too much about punctuation and other syntax issues, just general narrative and storytelling critiques.

Untitled

The stranger rode into town, increasing its living population to one. In the center of the main thoroughfare stood a white, gnarled tree, it's branches twisting and reaching out like withered arms. A solitary crow sat on one of the limbs, cawing loudly; a dead man hanging below it. “Death,” the bird seemed to caw. The decaying corpse, its eyes recently gouged out of its face by local carrion-eaters, swung back and forth like a pendulum serving as a warning. The stranger shivered inwardly and glanced towards the setting sun. With dark approaching he knew he would need to stop for the night, rather than risk running his mount into further danger. He would ride all night if he could, but the men following him would bed down for the night and he knew he needed to do the same. It was late, but why there was no activity in the town the stranger couldn't quite figure out.

“Howdy,” he called to no one in particular, his only response the clattering of a busted weather vane nearby. A deserted town reduced his prospects of a decent meal in his stomach and a warm whore in his bed, but he couldn't object to the lack of local law. He cantered down the street, taking inventory of the small town. The buildings were rotting with age and the lack of upkeep, and there was a cold, uneasy edge hanging in the air, but otherwise the stranger found the town rather hospitable to his needs. A roof over his head, a trough of relatively clean water for his horse, and no sheriff meant he could rest easy for the night before he had to put more miles behind him. The horse he'd stolen had no sentimental value, but it was a sturdy mount and he figured with proper care it could continue to serve him well.

He led the horse to a trough in front of the saloon, the second 'O' on the sign hanging lopsided from a rusty nail, and tied her down while she greedily lapped up water. It wasn't particularly cold or fresh, but it was wet, and that seemed good enough for the chestnut filly. The man sauntered over to the lonely soul hanging from the tree and gave him a once over. It wasn't a pretty sight. The man's empty eye sockets gazed into the stranger, as if there was still some semblance of life behind them. His mouth was caught in a rictus grin, an unnerving sight that quickly made the stranger avert his gaze downward. The loose flesh hung limply from the man's bones, mottled and starting to turn slightly green. The stranger gagged on the smell, as it violently forced its way into his nose and mouth, refusing to leave. He hacked and coughed and in his fits noticed something bulging in the man's coat pocket. He examined further and found a bag of recently prospected gold. Several gleaming nuggets about the size of a chicken's egg stared up at him from the bottom of a ragged, brown bag. While the stranger couldn't deny his good fortune, the sight of the gold made him more skittish than the corpse itself. Who goes to the trouble of hanging a man without first turning out his pockets for valuables? It didn't make sense and it was more than a little unnerving.  Pocketing the forsaken gold, the stranger slowly backed away from the tree, the crow continuing its mournful call, and walked back towards the saloon. The horse could stand to be bedded, but without stable boys around to help, and the weariness from the last two days' ride creeping through his bones, he decided she could sleep just fine outside as she could in a stall. Besides, he thought, he'd prefer she were nearby should he need to leave town in a hurry.

The stranger pushed aside the swinging doors of the saloon and made his way towards the bar. An empty town wouldn't miss a shot of whiskey or two; the corpse certainly didn't look too thirsty. The stranger grabbed a nearby bottle and a glass and slowly headed upstairs to find a bed. The sun was nearly gone and he knew he'd sleep well with some warm whiskey filling his gut. He opened the first door on his left and found a desk and a couple of small sitting chairs. The stranger pillaged the desk for valuables, but couldn't find anything beyond a smattering of ancient invoices. He moved towards the next room, but the door was locked and he didn't feel like having to break down a door for a decent night's rest. He moved onto the third room, not noticing the broken line of salt seeping out at the door's bottom and turned the doorknob. The whiskey bottle and glass smashed at his feet, the brown drink pooling around the salt as it slowly poured out of the overturned bottle. The stranger wasn't sure what to make of the horror before him. He took a step back, his body quivering, as he surveyed the scene. All manner of people: men, women, and children, their necks filling nooses, hung from the rafters. Their bodies were completely still, their faces contorted in the same rictus grin he'd seen outside. A handful of toppled chairs littered the floor, beneath them writing burned into the wood, sloppily and maddeningly repeating the same words, ' Swing Swing.'

Before he could examine the room further, he could hear a horse outside, the frantic sound of its cry echoing the stranger's own terror. He backed away from the room and fled towards the stairs, eager to get away from this haunted place. As he descended the flight of steps he could hear whispers all around him, exploding in his head, “Swing swing” they commanded. He tried to shut them out as he raced outside, but they just got louder, “Swing swing, swing swing, swing swing!” over and over, taunting him with their haunting chorus. He crashed through the swinging doors guarding the entrance and found his horse lying limp on the ground, the corners of its mouth pulled back to reveal that same devilish smile that had come to haunt him, its eyes empty and lifeless. He looked towards the tree, tears stinging his eyes, the corpse from earlier swung from side to side and the crow called out, “Swing!” The stranger crumpled to the ground, sobbing hysterically, his sanity slowly eroding as the whispering chant continued to pound at him.

2011 in film

As much as I love making end of the year top ten lists, it's always tough for me to do so for the previous movie year because I tend to catch so many movies on DVD, rather than in the theater.  I probably won't get through everything 2011 had to offer (that I was willing to watch) until halfway through 2012.  With that in mind, here is what I did see and what I plan on seeing (in no particular order):


Loved
Rango
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (2)
Captain America
Rise of the Planet of the Apes
Hugo
The Adventures of Tintin 
Attack the Block 
Midnight in Paris 
50/50 
Warrior 


Liked
The Adjustment Bureau 
Source Code
Thor
The Beaver 
Bridesmaids 
X-men: First Class
Super 8
Winnie the Pooh
Fright Night
Moneyball 
The Muppets
Mission: Impossible-Ghost Protocol
The Artist
Beginners 
Jane Eyre
Conan O'Brien Can't Stop 
Contagion
Drive
My Week with Marilyn 


Did not like
Paul
Kung Fu Panda 2
Horrible Bosses
Cowboys & Aliens
A Dangeous Method
Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy
Hanna
Real Steel 
Don't Be Afraid of the Dark
Crazy, Stupid, Love 
 
Hated
Green Lantern
Transformers: Dark of the Moon*


*Hated, hated, hated, hated, hated, hated, hated, hated, hated. 


Plan to see 
The Descendants


All in all, a pretty solid movie year, at least in terms of what I attended.

You're probably an asshole: holiday edition

Between people being trampled to death for cheap Blu-ray players and one group or another claiming that Christmas is too secular or isn't secular enough, one thing is certain during the holidays: people are assholes.  The problem is a lot (i.e. all) of these people don't realize what enormous douchewads they are and they just continue the cycle of assholerey.  I've compiled a handy guide that will help identify behavior that may qualify you as an asshole.  Please, look over this and if you find you fall into some of this behavior, spread some holiday cheer by not being a total dickbag.

This is in our future if we don't clean up our act.

1.) You have ever assaulted (pushed, prodded, stabbed, mauled, pepper-sprayed, etc.) someone for that hot item of the year in an effort to save $20.  Let's face it, you're an asshole so it's a safe bet that you're kid is an asshole; he/she doesn't deserve whatever stupid toy you're accosting someone for.

Remember when Joseph and Mary pepper-sprayed the innkeeper for a room?

2.) You're offended because someone wishes you "Merry Christmas."  They're not trying to shove religion down your throat, get over yourself.

3.) You're offended because someone wishes you "Happy holidays."  They don't hate Jesus, they're just tired of assholes ostracizing them for not being politically correct.  Get over yourself.

4.) You're offended because Christmas is recognized by non-Christians.  Guess what?  If you want your sacred religious holiday to be a national holiday, everyone gets to celebrate it.  You can't bombard everyone with your religious observations for three centuries and not expect it to get secularized.

Pictured: an asshole.

5.) You're offended because people dare mention the name 'Jesus' when discussing Christmas.  Yeah, Christianity totally co-opted the Roman Sol Invictus and Saturnalia, but Christmas has been about the birth of Christ for nearly 2,000 years.  Deal with it.

This is so fucking offensive.

6.) You're offended by the term 'Holiday tree' because it's just the secular, post-modern world furthering it's war on Christmas and its agenda against your god.  When you co-opted the pagan traditions (like Christmas trees), you kind of deserve everything that comes with it.  Next time you decide to start a holiday: be creative and come up with your own traditions.

This is a real book. Someone probably bought it. As a Christmas present.

7.) You think Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and the Solstice should be equally advertised by retailers.  Sorry asshole, but the vast majority of people, regardless of their theological ties, buy Christmas gifts.  Christmas won retail winter, sorry losers.

 8.) You think there is some mass conspiracy to bring Christmas down (AKA the so-called 'War on Christmas), despite the fact that for 3+ months retail is dedicated to Christmas and people have begun celebrating it before Thanksgiving is over.  Christmas won winter, there is no war.

In actuality, Santa is being arrested for indecency with a minor.

9.) On Thanksgiving/Christmas day you go shopping at one of the few open stores and express your condolences to the poor sucker stuck behind the cash register.  Hey asshole, they're stuck there because you continue to shop on a holiday.

Behind her Christmas cheer is a desire for your house to burn down.

10.) You make your employees work on Thanksgiving/Christmas for a tiny margin of profit.

"You're a real motherfucker, Ebenezer Scrooge."

11.) This one is for the kids: you're pissed because you didn't get that one totally awesome (but probably shitty) toy you wanted.  There are currently kids spending their Christmas in a hospital, just hoping they live to see New Years.  I hope you choke on your turkey dinner, you little puke.

"Buy me Bonestorm, or go to hell!"

12.) You make lists detailing why everyone is an asshole, you sanctimonious prick.

Pipe +3 DEX +2 CURMUDGEON

I've only scratched the surface, feel free to add to the list with your own observed holiday asshole behavior.

The Muppets

As a lifelong Muppet fan, I've had equal amounts of excitement and trepidation building over the last year as I've been anticipating the new Muppet movie.  Jason Segel's passion for the material as a fan, as well as strong critical reception, had eased my cautious optimism and I'm happy to say that most of it was unwarranted.

"Don't trust this review, his favorite Muppet is Fozzie! Ohohoho!"

The movie starts strong and it's no exaggeration that I had a smile plastered across my face for the first ten minutes, easy.  The new addition to the Muppet clan, Walter, is likable and serves as an excellent way to reintroduce the Muppet franchise to a new generation, as well as those of the older generation who have long-forgotten their felt and fuzzy friends.   The story does a great job of blending new characters with the classic franchise as well as being a sentimental homage without becoming sappy and cloying.  This is where the movie is its strongest: paying tribute to its pedigree.  There are tons of references in the background for Muppet fanatics to catch, without ever getting too ham-fisted in its love letter to Jim Henson.  I loved looking in the corners of the screen for small little nods to the classic show and I'm sure for as many as I caught, I missed even more.  The movie hits its sentimental peak when Kermit the Frog is remembering his friends through song in a heartfelt and moving scene.  For me it was a powerful moment that served to remind me how much I've missed new Muppet stories.  It's a beautiful moment that, unfortunately, also serves as a bar that the movie doesn't quite reach again (though the Rainbow Connection moment towards the film's finale comes close).

"Wokka wokka, motherfucker."

 After reminiscing, Kermit resolves to get the gang together for one final show.  What should have been the moment the movie starts to gain momentum is where it plateaued for me.  While I generally have no problem with the Muppeteers passing off their responsibilities (Steve Whitmire was set to takeover Henson's duties, even before his untimely death), Frank Oz's presence is sorely missed here.  Eric Jacobson has taken over Oz's roles and, well, he's no Frank Oz.  His puppet duties are mostly serviceable, but his Miss Piggy is hit-or-miss and his Fozzie is just completely off.  This shouldn't be a problem for kids new to the Muppets, and it may not be a problem for most people, but as a diehard Fozzie fan this was a big drawback for me as it constantly took me out of the movie.  Other drawbacks include an unnecessary subplot between Segel and Adams that grinds the movie to a halt and just the general look of the movie.  I don't have the technical know-how to properly explain it, but there are several moments where the Muppets don't look like they're inhabiting the same space with their human peers.  It has an over-produced, digital look that made everything feel very unnatural.  It wasn't a major detractor, but it didn't do the movie any favors in terms of audience immersion.

Sweeney Todd ain't got shit on Beaker.

Still, for all of the little things that kept bugging me, the movie excels at so much more.  The jokes are (mostly) very funny and in line with typical Muppet humor and the celebrity cameos were a riot.  I don't want to give anything away, but Dave Grohl and Zach Galifianakis have some of the best cameos in Muppet history, the latter being almost as good as Steve Martin in the original 1979 Muppet movie.  The music is wonderful; an equal blend of original songs, pop hits, and Muppet classics and I think the soundtrack stands up very well in comparison to the likes of The Muppet Movie and The Muppets Take Manhattan.

The one time it's okay for a man to cry like a little girl.

The Muppets isn't groundbreaking in any way, but it's a mostly pleasant romp with enough charm to help anyone look past its shortcomings.

Note: The Muppets is preceded by a Pixar short, Small Fry, set in the Toy Story world.  It's brilliant; don't miss it.

Why Disney's Beauty and the Beast is a load of horseshit

You read that title correctly. Beauty and the Beast, while a magnificent animated tale of love and acceptance, is a total crock of baloney.  It's the story of a young girl looking for someone to connect with and her list of options is pretty barren.  Let's look at Belle's rival suitors.

 First up is Gaston.  He's handsome, brave, and would be the hero in any other fairy tale.  He's ambitious and an entrepreneur; running his own successful business. He's also a skilled hunter.  Basically, he's a provider who knows how to survive.  Like the rest of humanity, Gaston isn't perfect. His confidence creeps into a smug arrogance.

"Picture this: a rustic hunting lodge, my latest kill roasting over the fire, you not being violated by a furry dick..."

After Belle rebuffs Gaston, she meets the Beast.  No, that isn't some crazy nickname he earned in college for being a "wild and crazy guy".  He was magically transformed into a monster by a vengeful sorceress basically because he was a giant dickbag.  The Beast's outside appearance doesn't conceal a tortured, gentle soul.  He's selfish, arrogant, abusive, vengeful, cruel, bitter, and he hates himself.  Also, motherfucker is rich.

99 problems but a bitch ain't one.

Did I mention how Belle met the Beast?  Her sickly father stumbled into the Beast's home looking for sanctuary from the man-eating wolves that were about to devour his face.  The Beast's response?  Lock him in a tower to die.  Belle finds her father and offers to take his place.  The Beast eventually acquiesces to her request, upon realizing that she may be the one to break the spell.  And hey, maybe she'll open her legs for him.  Belle is none too thrilled with these developments and at first, refuses the Beast's advances. 

"Your resistance only makes my penis harder!"

 The Beast then gives Belle her own room in his castle, nice clothes, an entire library, and basically anything else she wants, so long as she sticks around.  I'd like to reiterate that the only reason he is doing this is because he wants something from her.  He's still kind of a douchewad, prone to yelling and throwing tantrums.

"He only hits me because he loves me so much."

 So, after being coerced into co-habitation for eternity, Belle eventually gets to know the Beast and it turns out that in spite of some personal flaws, he's actually a decent guy.  Also, he's very, very rich.

"I had one lying around; thought you might dig it. Whatevs."

Meanwhile, Gaston plots to convince Belle to give him a chance.  His plan?  To lock up Belle's father.  Lest you forget, THAT'S THE EXACT SAME THING THE BEAST DID.  Belle refuses, disgusted, despite the fact that she totally fell in love with the Beast after he imprisoned her father and then kept her as a hostage.  Gaston gets whipped up into a frenzy, natch, upon finding out that Belle would sooner fuck a bear rug than go out with him.  Have I mentioned that the Beast is rich?

"Bestiality is an affront to God!"

The movie concludes (spoilers!) with Gaston meeting a grisly demise and the Beast getting the girl.  

Let's recap:

• Gaston digs on Belle, Belle thinks Gaston is a clod.
• Beast and Belle don't like each other, but Beast needs her to do him a favor.
• Belle takes the time to get to know the Beast, despite her initial misgivings, and finds out he's pretty swell (and rich).
• Belle doesn't give Gaston half the chance she gives the Beast, Gaston dies.

"Now I ain't sayin' she a gold digger, but she ain't messin' with no broke niggas."