Proof That the End of the World Really Is Near

It's kinda funny how much press has been given to that evangelical broadcaster's prediction that the world would end today at 6pm.  I guess anything that makes those yahoos look more like yahoos is okay by me.  I personally don't believe that God is going to give anybody a tip-off to when the end will come.  Certainly not to some loudmouth with a microphone that can't keep a secret.  The point of the thing is to grab them folks that dun earned the right to not burn.  God wants folks to live right as a habit, not ignore him until the preacher pulls the bus around to take you to the space port.

It reminds me of when my mom used to constantly ask me to clean my room (that's right, mom is my proxy for God in this story, because she's the most God-like person I know.)  I would usually ignore her until I wanted to go somewhere or do something fun and she would say, "Sorry, your room is filthy.  I can't help you."  So I would run up to my room and stuff all of my dirty clothes in the back of the closet and come back fifteen minutes later and tell her I was done and ready to go.  It took a long time for me to understand the principal of orderliness that she was trying to teach me.

Now the first thing I do when I get out of bed is turn around and make the bed.  I never throw clothes on the floor.  They go directly into the hamper or back onto the hanger, and shoes go on the rack.  Mom never forced me to Get Back To Your Room And Clean It This Instant!  She simply let me know that there would be consequences for not doing what she asked.  But I never knew when those consequences would arrive. 

Pastor Carnac frequently receives messages

In this recent round of billboard warnings and AM radio insanity, Pastor Carnac proved that his mouth is hotter than his math when he calculated today to be the day.  And he probably felt pretty good about himself for warning everybody to set things right with their maker.  But even if you know that you're a week away from the end, guess what.  It's too late.  Even a month out.

If it hasn't been a priority of yours prior to the final warning, saying a few Hail Marys isn't gonna get you in to the VIP room.  It's not like the Salahis are crashing the party.  We're not dealing with the Secret Service here.  I'm willing to bet that cherubim are much more thoroughly impenetrable.  And I don't think there'll be some sort of advance warning.  If you're "in," you'll know it when it happens.  If you're not, you'll know.

What I do think is that God gives out signs so anybody tuned in can file it away in their Affirmations File.  One of those signs occurred this Friday.  What was this sign of the times, you ask?

One of the pillars of the universe, Macho Man Randy Savage, passed away.

Some of you may think that Macho Man was a mere wrestler.  But my theory is that he was actually one of the original three pillars holding the universe in place.  The other two are Andre The Giant and, of course, Hulk Hogan.  The Giant went down in 1993, but the other two have held up remarkably well considering the pressure they're under.  Macho Man's collapse was like throwing a rock into the smooth, glass-like pond of space-time.  The ripples radiated outward in all directions, which is probably what Pastor Carnac was picking up on.  It's not the end, but it is probably a good time to get your life in order.  Once Hulk Hogan goes down, it's too late for us sinners.  The lesser buttresses like The Rock and John Cena won't be able to support the weight on their own, and the universe will collapse onto itself.  You heard it here first.

Now, if you listen closely, you can hear the past echoing in your ears, and remember a time when giants bore the world on their backs:

   
Don't say Macho Man didn't try to warn us.  Anybody listening would have heard it in that video.  No more questions.

My Bloodtype is "Nutella Positive"

Bad decisions abound in my life.  Not kissing J.D. Summers back in kindergarten.  Giving up on basketball after eighth grade.  Throwing away my Rage Against the Machine CDs after my mission.  Throwing that brick at The Nuge's face at the rodeo.  Watching Judge Dread in its entirety.  Drinking that whole bottle of Stolie in St. Petersburg at the tender age of 15.  Saying "no" to Vanessa for homecoming junior year.  Saying "yes" to Angela for homecoming senior year. 

What can I say, sometimes I can be pretty impulsive.

I can't pinpoint when it happened, but at some point tonight I looked at the half-empty jar of Nutella and made the executive decision to finish it off with a spoon.  I guess it was somewhere around the twenty minute mark that I realized what I was going to do.  I didn't like it, but I also understand my eating habits well enough to know that there would be no turning back.  It is too good when you're in the heat of pursuit to stop and think rationally.  But in the aftermath, all you feel is blech.  This coming week will be one of retribution.  And it will be painful.  But as Indiana Jones knows, only the penitent man will pass.  Or fit through the door. 

Don't Judge Me. I Loved Black Swan.

Art, it has often been said, is a matter of taste.  For this reason, I generally read movie critics’ reviews with suspended judgment, especially when it comes to exceptionally artistic movies like Black Swan.  From the few people I had spoken with about the show prior to watching it, I had hopes for decent entertainment, but nothing to blow my mind.  

I’ve always measured art of any medium (painting, sculpture, opera, movies, music, etc.) by the emotional response that it elicits from me.  Having seen a number of ballets when I was younger, I had satisfied my mind and soul that it was not an art form suited to my pallet.  But to say that Black Swan is a movie about ballet would be a tragically superficial misread.  The themes dealt with here are so much deeper and more frightening than I had anticipated.  Some people may not connect with those themes.  As for me, I have never, ever, had a movie do to me what Black Swan did.  

Natalie Portman is Nina, a company ballerina at what I assume is the New York City ballet company, meaning she is just one of many in the group, but has never landed the lead role.  And now she is auditioning for the lead in the director’s new interpretation of Swan Lake.  You are given hints that her fairly normal, if not somewhat shy, personality mask an upbringing and home life that are not entirely normal.  The daughter of a former ballerina, she lives at home with her mother, her room adorned with a lifetime’s collection of stuffed animals.  She is devoted completely to her life at the company, wanting nothing more than to be the perfect dancer, a goal she has pursued doggedly for years.  But early on, you don’t get the sense that she is obsessive about it.  Natalie Portman drew me deep into Nina’s character with her guarded, timid vulnerability, so that when the obsessiveness and need for control began to emerge, I felt totally devoted to, even protective of Nina.    

To dance the lead in Swan Lake, the ballerina has to play two roles:  that of the White Swan, and that of the Black Swan.  It’s a simple enough story of the dichotomy of personality.  Yet Nina had so thoroughly suppressed her dark side beneath the veneer of perfection that she had become the embodiment of a fairy tale princess: locked away in a tower only to be looked upon, never touched, never behaving in a manner unbecoming of a princess, never condescending to engage in the baser pleasures with the rest of humanity.  This was the concern that the company director had with her, particularly in the role of the Black Swan.  She was too demure, too pristine to understand what it meant to seduce a man.  Many people have made a lot of noise about some of the sexually steamy scenes in the movie, and certainly there was no shortage of hands taking the scenic route through Ms. Portman’s underpants.  But to fixate on the sexuality of the scenes is as big a mistake as viewing Black Swan as a movie about ballet.  The black swan’s role on stage is to seduce the prince and steal him away from the white swan.  The use of Nina’s sexuality is about her need for control at all times.   It’s about her fear of putting away the mask of perfection that she has constructed for the world, and ultimately for herself.  It’s about being vaguely aware of a darker element buried inside of her that she can’t control.  But rather than being a part of herself that she is curious about, she is terrified of it and her mind strains even harder to exert control over a fairly uncontrollable element.   

    

Her opposite within the ballet company, Lily, is played by Mila Kunis.  Lily is as much the black swan as Nina is the white.  Her ability to slip into the role of seductress both on and off stage is so effortless, her openness and warmth toward the other girls in the company so genuine, it is nearly impossible to dislike her, or to not desire her.  There’s a sexual element to her allure, but like any good seduction, you are more drawn to what she is.  She gains strength and power in understanding that element of herself.  And Portman is drawn to that, because she knows it is what she needs.  She is within sniffing distance of grasping her dream role, of becoming the perfect dancer.  But she is stuck, because to acquire that skill means letting go and smashing the fairy tale tower she has constructed around herself. As the two engage in an awkward friendship, it spirals into deeper and darker places as the cracks begin to appear in Nina’s world.  The big question is can she let go and become the black swan instead of constantly trying to control it?     

The performances of the actors hooked me early, and the tension built gradually throughout the movie, to the point where I was wincing and clenching my fists and teeth.  The music was fantastic.  I’ve always loved the musical score from Swan Lake, but the way it is used in this film added so much to the tension and emotion of the scenes.  In the climactic ballet sequence, the musical score and the delicate power of Portman’s performance had me extending my arms, mimicking the male role opposite her. 

 

My response to this movie was visceral, and I don’t entirely understand it.  When it was over, my whole body was tingling.  I stood in front of the bathroom sink for literally five minutes seeing stars, waiting for my heart rate to slow.  I tried to grasp why I was experiencing such an intense response.  I can’t describe the sensation.  I don’t have all of the same issues that she had in the way of the high-stress, controlling parents.  I don’t have the other, more clinically insane stuff either (as far as I know.)  So that can’t be what pushed me.  I’ve got some thoughts on what it was, but it’s way too personal and I’ll likely never share those thoughts with anybody.  All I will say is that this movie somehow reached me more deeply than any I have ever watched.  I don’t know if I will ever watch it again.  In all honesty, my reaction frightened me a little bit.  But there’s also the likelihood that I won’t have the same powerful response the second time, and that it would just be another ho-hum movie like it was for other people.  That would almost be worse. Nonetheless, if I must rate this movie, I give it five-out-of-five .44 Magnum rounds.  How could I not.