So my buddies and I came out of the movie theater, talking about what we just saw.
One friend said, “I couldn’t believe they would just rip off his suit. I mean, he was dodging bullets with that suit, so how could the doctors just cut it off? I was like, ‘Ahhhh.’ It had to be harder than that.”
“Well it wasn’t the suit that was stopping the bullets,” said my other friend piped in.
“The man makes the clothes,” I said in my faux philosophical tone, trying to turn that old saying and twist it around to make it new.
Director Bryan Singer did a similar twist by remaking Superman and creating a top-notch film that wows and inspires, all the while throwing image and reference after image and reference of Christ at the audience. The entire movie, as cliché as the franchise seems, could be a 2.5 hour long portrait of Christ.
Singer, a superstar director with such varied and intricate features under his belt as The Usual Suspects and X2: X-Men United, continues to use his films to communicate what could be taken as Christian themes. Previous films, specifically the aforementioned features, had bits of theology, some better than others. Usual Suspects explored the reality of the devil and X2 comically portrayed faith. Superman Returns is bathed in Christian imagery, with scene after scene making reference to Christ in either in dialogue or action.
The film is technically brilliant and done in an old-fashioned Hollywood
style. There’s action but not some final showdown or drag-out fight between Superman and Lex Luther, played by Kevin Spacey who somehow recreates Gene Hackman’s earlier Luther. There’s daring rescues at the last minute that you tell yourself you know will come. There’s not a complete swear word in the entire movie despite the earthquakes, plane crashes, and sinking ships that imperil everyone living in Metropolis. A struggling plane carrying Lois Lane, her fiancé Richard White (nephew of The Daily Planet Editor Perry White) and son, possibly fathered by Superman, soars off the end of a waterfall, heading straight for the ground. It disappears into the mist at the bottom of the falls and a second and half later, veers up and out of danger.
And, as already mentioned, Lois Lane is engaged and has a son when Superman returns from his five year hiatus, taken to see his home planet, Krypton, which astronomers discovered somewhere nearby. So things get a little messy for Clark Kent, as well, having to work with Lois, her fiancé, and see Lois' son running around the newsroom. And whether or not Lois Lane did “Spend the Night With Superman,” as one of her columns was titled, becomes a beautiful way illustrate the Father’s relationship with the Son. Marlon Brando’s original voice work is recycled from the old Superman films and used to help explain this throughout the movie.
I’d rather not spoil any more of the movie and let you figure out whether or not Superman actually has a son or if Lex Luther gets killed in the end. It was a beautiful and moving movie.
And if you’re looking for another take on the movie, check out my buddy’s review who watched the movie with me: http://trents.blogspot.com/ .
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
True Crime Series --- Belmont Avenue Eyeball
This was an actual story that ran at the newswire service I worked for. It could possibly not be for the faint of heart. This is an example of how oddities make the news and (since it is barely a news story) then disappear from existance; except for those who were grossed out enough by it that they may never forget reading the story. Us reporters stopped checking on whether or not it was a human eyeball after a few days and many long sighs from the Cook County Medical Examiner's Office workers when we asked about it.
____
An eyeball was found stuck to the bumper of a Toyota and authorities were trying to determine its source.
Police got the call about the discovery, which happened in the parking lot of a Dunkin’ Donuts at 3801 W. Belmont Av., at about 9 a.m. said a west side police officer who didn’t want to be named. Police did not know if the eyeball was human or if it belonged to an animal.
A citizen called police after finding the eyeball stuck to the bumper of a white Toyota Tercel. The Cook County medical examiner’s office was scheduled to examine the eyeball the next day to make a determination.
The police didn’t know how the eyeball ended up on the bumper and an employee at the Dunkin Donuts had not heard about the eyeball.
______
Check out the next big thing in Texas at the Son Of A Beach.
____
An eyeball was found stuck to the bumper of a Toyota and authorities were trying to determine its source.
Police got the call about the discovery, which happened in the parking lot of a Dunkin’ Donuts at 3801 W. Belmont Av., at about 9 a.m. said a west side police officer who didn’t want to be named. Police did not know if the eyeball was human or if it belonged to an animal.
A citizen called police after finding the eyeball stuck to the bumper of a white Toyota Tercel. The Cook County medical examiner’s office was scheduled to examine the eyeball the next day to make a determination.
The police didn’t know how the eyeball ended up on the bumper and an employee at the Dunkin Donuts had not heard about the eyeball.
______
Check out the next big thing in Texas at the Son Of A Beach.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Crisis Averted
So the crisis was averted, yet again. It almost sounds like the ending of some clichéd movie, where the main character learns some great lesson. Since he was only painted in one broad, monochrome color, he only learned that he was merely selfish or that he should’ve known that his friends would come through. He was not that complicated and so his lesson learned wasn’t that amazing. He was only two dimensional.
I feel like that character because for the last week, I had some financial crisis that propelled me into the realm of disbelief. I didn’t believe that things were going to change. I thought I would never get that refund for self-publishing that journal or that freelance check that would pay my bills during the time in between paychecks. I became angry at individuals, corporations or anyone else that seemingly contributed to my misery.
My bank account went way into the negative digits, throwing an entire toolbox into the machinery of my life. What was in the account would have covered the deposit check given to an apartment complex in north Dallas that secured a pretty sweet two-bedroom, two-bath pad for my buddy and I. Luckily, that check hasn’t been cashed in yet.
My back went out as well, only compounding the situation. Maybe I swam too hard and pushed and pulled that restaurant booth the wrong way while moving it into the graphic design studio. I stretched, heated, iced and just lay on my back, trying to rest it. But it didn’t squeeze back into place until a week later. Makes me wonder if there’s some medical connection between my mental state and a crick in my back that twists a nerve a certain way? I wonder if depression could stem from merely one nerve in the spinal column being pinched the wrong way?
So the week goes on and I continue to go through the motions of my Christianity. I go to church and then grab lunch with the 20 somethings afterward. I went to a small group dinner and tried to contribute something as people discussed chapter seven of Don’t Waste Your Life, by John Piper. Could there be a more appropriate (or inappropriate) book for this week of my life?
In each of these times of spiritual discussion, I felt completely disconnected because I didn’t feel like I had any faith. I just had doubts about all of God’s characteristics that I knew. I felt like I was talking about someone else’s life when I tried to say something authentic. I felt two dimensional. That lesson learned came from someone else’s life, not mine. I wasn’t the person who figured out that wise idea on how to be authentic. I was someone who didn’t know if he had any faith. I was someone who didn’t walk in anyone’s ways or follow hard after anyone. I was just here, groping for some way out of a two-dimensional mess.
I began praying two days ago (one of the things that I remembered from that other person’s life) that God needed to show himself to me again. I knew that I didn’t quite believe that He would take care of me so I told him so. I said this, somehow knowing that he would do what I asked because that’s what He does. I couldn’t say that God would always defend his character and restore the faith of his sons and daughters. But that’s what I pretty much asked him to do in so many words.
And then today happens. I call my parents to check in (and eventually ask for whatever money they could spare). My mom figured out she could wire me some money and did so. While I was talking to her in my bedroom, an overnight UPS envelop came. My boss handed it to me after I went back into the office. Inside was a check for a freelance project that I did three and a half months ago. The amount would bring my bank account back into the positive digits. While depositing this check at the bank, my Mom called while I waited for the teller to deposit the check. “I just wired ***** dollars into your account.” I told her the good news and she was excited. I guess God will come through in situations like this, just like my Mom said in our initial conversation.
I get an email from a friend who’s raising support to work for Campus Crusade for Christ. He’s my age and just had his third child, making support raising all the more interesting. I’ve given him my pittance for the last two years ‘cause were buds and he has the cutest daughter who says, “Hey Beach!” whenever she see me. I emailed him and asked him to pray for my situation. He emailed me today to tell me that he just mailed me a check for $100. That’s unfathomable for me. But not for him. He works full-time on raising support and not in any other job. He lives on the belief that God will provide for his needs and has done so for the last nine months.
He says his mailman took his check to me but then left another letter in his daily mail. He opened a letter to find a check for $500 the same day he sent out a $100 for me.
My current boss also gave me an advance to pay for a small editing job he lassoed for me from one of his clients.
So the two dimensional character realizes that there’s an entire other dimension where things happen and people believe all sorts of things. And then the character starts to see his hand in full color and realize there’s depth to it all.
I feel like that character because for the last week, I had some financial crisis that propelled me into the realm of disbelief. I didn’t believe that things were going to change. I thought I would never get that refund for self-publishing that journal or that freelance check that would pay my bills during the time in between paychecks. I became angry at individuals, corporations or anyone else that seemingly contributed to my misery.
My bank account went way into the negative digits, throwing an entire toolbox into the machinery of my life. What was in the account would have covered the deposit check given to an apartment complex in north Dallas that secured a pretty sweet two-bedroom, two-bath pad for my buddy and I. Luckily, that check hasn’t been cashed in yet.
My back went out as well, only compounding the situation. Maybe I swam too hard and pushed and pulled that restaurant booth the wrong way while moving it into the graphic design studio. I stretched, heated, iced and just lay on my back, trying to rest it. But it didn’t squeeze back into place until a week later. Makes me wonder if there’s some medical connection between my mental state and a crick in my back that twists a nerve a certain way? I wonder if depression could stem from merely one nerve in the spinal column being pinched the wrong way?
So the week goes on and I continue to go through the motions of my Christianity. I go to church and then grab lunch with the 20 somethings afterward. I went to a small group dinner and tried to contribute something as people discussed chapter seven of Don’t Waste Your Life, by John Piper. Could there be a more appropriate (or inappropriate) book for this week of my life?
In each of these times of spiritual discussion, I felt completely disconnected because I didn’t feel like I had any faith. I just had doubts about all of God’s characteristics that I knew. I felt like I was talking about someone else’s life when I tried to say something authentic. I felt two dimensional. That lesson learned came from someone else’s life, not mine. I wasn’t the person who figured out that wise idea on how to be authentic. I was someone who didn’t know if he had any faith. I was someone who didn’t walk in anyone’s ways or follow hard after anyone. I was just here, groping for some way out of a two-dimensional mess.
I began praying two days ago (one of the things that I remembered from that other person’s life) that God needed to show himself to me again. I knew that I didn’t quite believe that He would take care of me so I told him so. I said this, somehow knowing that he would do what I asked because that’s what He does. I couldn’t say that God would always defend his character and restore the faith of his sons and daughters. But that’s what I pretty much asked him to do in so many words.
And then today happens. I call my parents to check in (and eventually ask for whatever money they could spare). My mom figured out she could wire me some money and did so. While I was talking to her in my bedroom, an overnight UPS envelop came. My boss handed it to me after I went back into the office. Inside was a check for a freelance project that I did three and a half months ago. The amount would bring my bank account back into the positive digits. While depositing this check at the bank, my Mom called while I waited for the teller to deposit the check. “I just wired ***** dollars into your account.” I told her the good news and she was excited. I guess God will come through in situations like this, just like my Mom said in our initial conversation.
I get an email from a friend who’s raising support to work for Campus Crusade for Christ. He’s my age and just had his third child, making support raising all the more interesting. I’ve given him my pittance for the last two years ‘cause were buds and he has the cutest daughter who says, “Hey Beach!” whenever she see me. I emailed him and asked him to pray for my situation. He emailed me today to tell me that he just mailed me a check for $100. That’s unfathomable for me. But not for him. He works full-time on raising support and not in any other job. He lives on the belief that God will provide for his needs and has done so for the last nine months.
He says his mailman took his check to me but then left another letter in his daily mail. He opened a letter to find a check for $500 the same day he sent out a $100 for me.
My current boss also gave me an advance to pay for a small editing job he lassoed for me from one of his clients.
So the two dimensional character realizes that there’s an entire other dimension where things happen and people believe all sorts of things. And then the character starts to see his hand in full color and realize there’s depth to it all.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
On Not Being Named Alumnus of the Year
Disappointment abounded this past year when I didn’t get to go up on stage during MBI’s Founder’s Week celebration. Someone else was nominated for alumnus of the year and their deeds were announced to all the eager attendees. People were awed at their ministry prowess and kingdom accomplishments. The recipient (whomever it may have been; I missed that session) surely teared up, said some kind words and thanked God for how gracious, loving and powerful He is.
Maybe next year, I thought.
Or on second thought, maybe never.
I realized this because in the three years since I’ve graduated, a lot has changed in my life, including how I view everything. I don’t have the same goals as when I graduated. Those first dreams and aspirations were crushed once I tried to get out and accomplish them. My beliefs have been put through a blender, leaving me with a glass of smoothie-like substance that I’d have to dig through in order to see what the original recipe was. Am I a Calvinist egalitarian or an ecumenical amillenialist? And can I even give the definition of any of those words to show off my Bible and theology prowess? After all, Bible was my middle name for four consecutive years.
One conclusion I’ve come to is that full-time ministry is not something that God has planned for me. So that, along with earning a black sheep degree in communications, will probably disqualify me for the Alum of the Year. I’m excited for my fellow graduates who have been called to be pastors, missionaries and educators at churches, in foreign countries and in schools, public or private. However, a no B.S. look at my abilities and talents has led me to believe that God has not gifted me with the interpersonal capabilities necessary for a major leadership role in any ministry.
I breathed a sigh of relief when this thought came to me from either common sense or a blessing of wisdom from God. Ministry is rough, messy work that you have to be called to. I remember seeing classmates struggle with ministry because they wouldn’t entertain the idea that perhaps God had gifted them for something other than the typical ministry role.
An honest assessment of my talents led me to take a job as a reporter for the century-old City News Service of Chicago. I’ve always had a thing for writing. I wrote and then edited a newspaper during high school, where I wrote some article regarding spirituality or Christianity in every issue (as well as an investigation into the school selling way too many parking passes for a senior parking lot). I repeated this process while in college with more spiritual topics and a volatile investigation into why nearly a dozen Bible and theology professors left the school over two years. Success in writing on these levels led me to imitate other alumni that got their writing careers off to a great start at City News.
So for a year, I hung out at police stations throughout Chicago and covered the crime beat in city. I saw, heard and wrote about some things that I wish I never had. I became hardened, cynical and got twice the education that I received while in college. After a grating year of realizing more of my strengths, and more importantly, my weaknesses, I realized that I didn’t have what it took to be a reporter in Chicago. I didn’t have enough competitiveness, pluck and interpersonal savvy to make it in a city that is a destination for reporters across the country. I’m happy that another alumnus, Matt Wahlberg, rose through the ranks at City News, got a job at the Chicago Tribune and is now doing leg work for famed columnist John Kass. Walberg won’t get recognized at Founder’s Week either, because he’s just a damn good reporter who probably glorifies Christ through his hard work and skill. However, he was recently recognized and chided by Chicago Mayor Richard M. Daley for doing his job and asking tough questions: Walberg
It’s a shame someone doing a great job at something that isn’t ministry can’t become the famed Alumni. You probably won’t see anyone recognized on stage that makes some great artistic accomplishment or someone who donates a large amount of money to support missionaries or some private school (The people who donate fortunes of money usually become trustees at MBI, though). It sucks that James Schapp or Bob Muzikowski weren’t alumni of Moody because both have achieved great things through their non-ministry-type vocations.
And it will continue to suck because of what kind of school my alma mater is. I remember that Moody Bible Institute is a training ground for students wanting to go into full-time ministry. Knowing this, I am sure that I will never be given an award for whatever achievements God gives me. This is because I know that I am not going to pursue some full-time ministry. Instead, I’m going to pursue a career in graphic design and continue to work on completing a novel. Maybe I’ll go to grad school and pursue a counseling degree.
But I’m surely going to use the artistic talents God has given me wherever they lead me. And if they don’t lead up the isle and into the bright lights of Founder’s Week, I’m cool with that.
For more random Texas experiences, read the lastest Son of a Beach.
Maybe next year, I thought.
Or on second thought, maybe never.
I realized this because in the three years since I’ve graduated, a lot has changed in my life, including how I view everything. I don’t have the same goals as when I graduated. Those first dreams and aspirations were crushed once I tried to get out and accomplish them. My beliefs have been put through a blender, leaving me with a glass of smoothie-like substance that I’d have to dig through in order to see what the original recipe was. Am I a Calvinist egalitarian or an ecumenical amillenialist? And can I even give the definition of any of those words to show off my Bible and theology prowess? After all, Bible was my middle name for four consecutive years.
One conclusion I’ve come to is that full-time ministry is not something that God has planned for me. So that, along with earning a black sheep degree in communications, will probably disqualify me for the Alum of the Year. I’m excited for my fellow graduates who have been called to be pastors, missionaries and educators at churches, in foreign countries and in schools, public or private. However, a no B.S. look at my abilities and talents has led me to believe that God has not gifted me with the interpersonal capabilities necessary for a major leadership role in any ministry.
I breathed a sigh of relief when this thought came to me from either common sense or a blessing of wisdom from God. Ministry is rough, messy work that you have to be called to. I remember seeing classmates struggle with ministry because they wouldn’t entertain the idea that perhaps God had gifted them for something other than the typical ministry role.
An honest assessment of my talents led me to take a job as a reporter for the century-old City News Service of Chicago. I’ve always had a thing for writing. I wrote and then edited a newspaper during high school, where I wrote some article regarding spirituality or Christianity in every issue (as well as an investigation into the school selling way too many parking passes for a senior parking lot). I repeated this process while in college with more spiritual topics and a volatile investigation into why nearly a dozen Bible and theology professors left the school over two years. Success in writing on these levels led me to imitate other alumni that got their writing careers off to a great start at City News.
So for a year, I hung out at police stations throughout Chicago and covered the crime beat in city. I saw, heard and wrote about some things that I wish I never had. I became hardened, cynical and got twice the education that I received while in college. After a grating year of realizing more of my strengths, and more importantly, my weaknesses, I realized that I didn’t have what it took to be a reporter in Chicago. I didn’t have enough competitiveness, pluck and interpersonal savvy to make it in a city that is a destination for reporters across the country. I’m happy that another alumnus, Matt Wahlberg, rose through the ranks at City News, got a job at the Chicago Tribune and is now doing leg work for famed columnist John Kass. Walberg won’t get recognized at Founder’s Week either, because he’s just a damn good reporter who probably glorifies Christ through his hard work and skill. However, he was recently recognized and chided by Chicago Mayor Richard M. Daley for doing his job and asking tough questions: Walberg
It’s a shame someone doing a great job at something that isn’t ministry can’t become the famed Alumni. You probably won’t see anyone recognized on stage that makes some great artistic accomplishment or someone who donates a large amount of money to support missionaries or some private school (The people who donate fortunes of money usually become trustees at MBI, though). It sucks that James Schapp or Bob Muzikowski weren’t alumni of Moody because both have achieved great things through their non-ministry-type vocations.
And it will continue to suck because of what kind of school my alma mater is. I remember that Moody Bible Institute is a training ground for students wanting to go into full-time ministry. Knowing this, I am sure that I will never be given an award for whatever achievements God gives me. This is because I know that I am not going to pursue some full-time ministry. Instead, I’m going to pursue a career in graphic design and continue to work on completing a novel. Maybe I’ll go to grad school and pursue a counseling degree.
But I’m surely going to use the artistic talents God has given me wherever they lead me. And if they don’t lead up the isle and into the bright lights of Founder’s Week, I’m cool with that.
For more random Texas experiences, read the lastest Son of a Beach.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Stuff to Chew On...
Here's a couple articles to contemplate while I get another real post ready.
The first is from Books and Culture magazine on spirituality in the suburbs and the other is the Chicago Sun-Times' religion columnist writing about Rob Bell from Mars Hill.
Suburban Spirituality
http://www.christianitytoday.com/bc/2006/003/15.24.html
Rob Bell-Mars Hill
http://www.suntimes.com/output/news/cst-nws-nooma04.html
The Son of a Beach is soon to have some birthday party pics. Check it out.
The first is from Books and Culture magazine on spirituality in the suburbs and the other is the Chicago Sun-Times' religion columnist writing about Rob Bell from Mars Hill.
Suburban Spirituality
http://www.christianitytoday.com/bc/2006/003/15.24.html
Rob Bell-Mars Hill
http://www.suntimes.com/output/news/cst-nws-nooma04.html
The Son of a Beach is soon to have some birthday party pics. Check it out.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
From Espresso to Graphic Design
So begins the journey of a graphic desinger. While still peddling espresso for the coffee-chain-that-shall-remain-nameless, I'm jumping into the world of graphic design. And so far, it's going fairly well. I created an inspired restaurant tri-fold brochure and it came together nicely. If only there was such a place as Joe's Highway Bistro.
Take a look.
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