Matir Theou.It’s difficult to find something that hasn’t already been said, pondered, or pontificated upon regarding the Blessed Virgin Mary, so I doubt it behooves me much to try. Just about everyone knows that the BVM is the earthly mother of the Christians’ savior, Jesus. Of course, to what extent her early influence continues on Christendom at large is hotly disputed. As I heard a very Anglo-Catholic priest say once, though: “She was His mom, you know.” It does stand to reason that she would, as the medievals say, have Jesus’ ear…
I suppose what I and allegedly many other folks would object to is the exaltation of this all-too-human woman to the status of deity. I’ll even admit that, whatever the saints’ relation to our lives, she is indeed the first of the Christian era, and possibly the greatest. But does she work miracles, like Christ? Does she act as an advocate in our distress, like Christ? Did she ascend into the heavens or was sinlessly conceived, like Christ?
See? That’s pretty scary, isn’t it?
It’s this rather limited type of Mary that I envision taking the time out of her busy schedule to pester children about their rosaries or inform us of future tourist traps.
Unfortunately, my quick fix to this perennial “goddess problem” was to isolate the incomprehensible God into the “paternal” Father, “maternal” Spirit and “filial” Son, following in the footsteps of a few others that shall remain nameless (or should they?). Blech… perhaps the best lesson to take from all this is to simply let God be God instead of confine Him/Her to simple gender binaries.
So can Mary give us any amont of help or solace whatsoever? Let’s just say the jury is out for the nonce. One thing I know for sure, though–Mary herself, in whatever capacity she still operates, must have been far less passive, milquetoast, and Caucasoid in her own time than how various churchmen have dutifully portrayed her at sundry times and places. And as long as she directs us continually to God, I don’t see why her lovingly looming presence should be considered that much of a problem for the mature Christian.
And the angel came in unto her, and said, “Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women.” And when she saw him, she was troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be. And the angel said unto her, “Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with God. . . . For with God nothing shall be impossible.” And Mary said, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.” And the angel departed from her. Luke 1:28-30 and 37-38
Here’s a belated Christmas present for you all. I know that many have done what I will attempt to do today, but hopefully I will do so with a bit more coherence and less obscenity… by and large. Without further ado, here is the first of a series of inflammatory tracts from the infamous comic writer-evangelist Jack Chick.
0.0 Good God… sorry, sorry, I’m okay. Let’s continue, shall we?
Of all the things that require a proof text in Scripture… slavery? Really? Also, really unfortunate use of emphasis in the last panel…
“Holly! Who’s your friend, and why are you bothering me on this fine Sunday morning?”
Is it just me, or does this look like just a rather tasteless Mad comic?
“You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. ‘Comfort,’ if that is your real name. But what’s in it for me?”
I’ve always had a metaphorical bone to pick with the old “sinner’s prayer,” but that’s the subject of another post.
In addition to having a striking profile, this police officer also has no insignia, but rather a 1970s-style suit and turtleneck. Why?!
“This must be the place–all these dead kids in the grille of my car…”
GEE, I HOPE NOTHING UNTOWARD HAPPENS ON THE WAY!
Why is this rubber-faced pedophile also a lumberjack?
Which church was it? Was it the right church?!
Dang… he got tore up, didn’t he?
There you have it… this is, I believe, the worst that it gets. Don’t quote me on that.
Hey, there’s his badge!
0__0 The Savior’s words are just “YELL AT HIM”? As in, “Soften him up for Me, I’ll get on this later”?
“@!!!**!”
Now there’s some advice we can all use.
“I hope you learned your lesson today, Mr. Pedobear.”
How fitting that, on the feast day of St. C. S. Lewis*, I post to this here blog. Now for you liturgy wonks out there, you know that acknowledging a saint’s day for someone as modern as Mr. Lewis here means only one thing: I’m a blinkin’ Anglican (or rather, Episcopalian). Or almost, anyway… I’ve attended several services and am quite excited about attending a more traditional one when I come home for the holidays.
As I previously considered myself somewhere in the galaxy of the Churches of Christ, or at the very least in the Restoration Movement that seeks (insofar as it is possible) to reconstruct the original first-century Church. Unfortunately, this has been tragically reduced to mean no imagery, ornamentation, or elaboration of any kind on the Christianity which we see a glimpse of in the New Testament. Even the witness of mere decades after the Church was founded apparently details apostasy only, with no light. Thus, we have no stained glass, no musical instruments, no choirs, no chancels, no liturgy, no prayer books, no healings, no speaking in tongues, no candles, no crosses, no pastoral guidance from anyone beyond your congregation, and no ladies in positions of authority. Granted, some of this may even be violating Biblical implications if we ever overstep our bounds!
Needless to say, the Episcopal Church is a huge jump to make from this, but as I grew up, I realized I was ready to make it. Perhaps it’s just a late-in-youth rebellion and a desire to extricate myself from my rocky last semester at my conservative college, but in the Episcopal Church I see a lot of what I hoped the Church of Christ would grow to become: a church that takes advantage of its founders’ desire for Christian unity and the “ancient ways” to open up new vistas of beautiful worship services, time-hallowed words, and ample room for disagreement. Ironically, I find that most of the things that concern me the most about the Episcopalians (nobody’s perfect, and I haven’t been confirmed yet either) are those that are least covered by their detractors, like infant baptism and the authority of the episcopate. And what their detractors love to harp on, I barely notice.
Consider:
Objection 1: THEY HAVE GAYS!!!
Note: There are gay people in your church, too. In fact, I guarantee it. I guess my ambivalence on this is based on my indecision on the precise moral status of homosexuality–nature or nurture? Does it really impede Christian service, regardless of whether they’re proud of it or not (a lot of Bible majors at my school actually admit to struggling with addictions like pornography and alcohol) ?
Objection 2: Women can’t be priests. And I should know, I’m a Baptist.
Maybe that was a cheap shot… but seriously, Mr. Non-Denominational shouldn’t stick his nose into the Roman Catholics’ business. We already know they disagree. I note that in the Bible, deacons, presbyters (”priests”) and bishops are described in male terms (I Tim. 3), although deaconesses obviously exist and are greatly lauded by St. Paul (Rom. 16:1-2). So could this distinction possibly be extended to include “presbyteresses” and “bishopesses” as well?!
Objection 3: They’re all a bunch of liberals.
Have you ever disagreed with anyone in your church hierarchy? If you’re from a non-hierarchical church, have you ever disagreed with anyone in your church? Also, remember this is usually coming from groups for whom everything is too liberal–even sundry opinions.
Objection 4: Their numbers are dwindling. Therefore, they must be wrong.
If I went by that assessment, I would have left the Churches of Christ before I had any disagreements with them whatsoever.
Objection 5: There’s too much variety in thought and doctrine! Somebody tell me what to believe!
*phew* Thank God.
*Ah heck… as per these folks, why not just call him St. “Jack” as he was colloquially known…
I think he is a she.
—Someone in Ranma, I’m Sure of It
Anime >> Ranma 1/2 (Eps. 1-5)
You know, after a semester of writing scholarly screeds and attempting to write my beloved fiction once more, I almost forgot the simple joys of the rant, or what I like to call “recreational nonfiction.” So, here goes:
After reading reviews and a few pseudo-reviews about how awesome Rumiko Takahashi’s Ranma 1/2 series is, I decided to bite the bullet and check it out online. I already knew that it was about a hermaphroditic martial artist engaged to… no, that’s not right. It’s about this guy named Ranma Saotome and his father, see, and they find these mythical Cursed Springs. Mr. Stereotypical Chinese Man tries to warn them of its fell waters, but they continue to train near said Cursed Springs. So Dad falls in and is cursed with transforming into a panda whenever he’s hit with cold water, and his son Ranma is cursed with turning into a “busty” (lovely reviewing term, ain’t it?) red-haired girl who still looks oddly like Ranma. They end up staying with the Tendo family, which includes the quick-to-anger martial arts girl Akane. Unlike every other screwball romantic comedy in anime or manga, these two actually have a professional background for their beating the crap out of each other constantly.
The main problem with this series, although the premise is admittedly pulled off quite well, is that the episodic and repetitive nature of the manga shows up apparently in the anime as well. There are 36 manga volumes and 161 anime episodes of this series, so you could spend a good portion of your life simply consuming Ranma 1/2 and related properties. Thus, after I sat through about five episodes, I knew I had basically seen what it had to offer… I guess (LAWL!). Essentially, new threats or suitors for either Akane or Ranma occur and reoccur on a frequent basis, along with anime-style “awkward situations.” Now, I give credit where credit is due here to Takahashi et al. for basically inventing a truckload of anime cliches… these weren’t cliches at the time–they were REVOLUTIONARY (sort of) !
Final Grade: B.
To anyone who still has this page bookmarked or returns to it on occasion:
I apologize for my extended absence (i.e., I sort of forgot about this site). I thought that, in the vast maelstrom that is my life, I would be forced to concede yet another failed blog or blog-like enterprise.
Well, NO MORE! Someday soon, most likely over Thanksgiving, I shall return with something to post up here. Until then… stay strong, brethren and sistren.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: manga, melancholy, moe, nerds, reviews, sehnsucht, surreal
“Your mischief has gone far enough, Lil’ Strawberry…”
–Doll Shakedown in Rozen Maiden
Manga >> Peach-Pit’s Rozen Maiden (Vols. 1-3)
I decided to take a trip in the Wayback Machine to a series that I have almost finished at this point (due to my avarice in gobbling up each installment): Peach-Pit’s Rozen Maiden. With the creators’ suggestive-sounding nom de plume, a rather shojo feel throughout and a downright creepy Gothicism, you think that I would despise it. But all things considered, Rozen Maiden is an intriguing little work. The blurb on the back advertises it as a “metaphysical comedy,” and it definitely does not disappoint.
The beginning of this series is where its strength lies–enter Jun Sakurada, an obstinate, oversensitive, emo lad who for some reason or another has chosen to withdraw from school, his friends, and his loving sister Nori. To give the audience some idea of how utterly petty Jun is, we find him doing the only thing he loves nowadays: buying cheap crap over the Intarwebs, then hastily returning it before the “risk-free trial period” expires. Yeah, he rolls like that.
In his computer desk one day, a note appears with the question of to wind or not to wind. He chooses “wind.” By “wind,” they mean “wind up a doll,” and by “wind up a doll,” they mean “bring said doll magically to life.” Over time, all seven of the dolls are expected to accumulate in his home, eventually destined by their creator, the Dutchman (?) Rozen, to battle for supremacy. Even… to the death?
Against all odds, this is all carried out with almost saccharine sweetness at times. From the tough-girl-with-a-heart-of-gold Shinku (who makes Jun her “manservant”) to the precious Hinaichigo (”Lil’ Strawberry”), all main characters are fully explored and given backstories in “the N-Field” (apparently synonymous with Jung’s collective unconscious!). Jungian references are my big weakness, sorry.
As always, the fragility of the various dolls and the deadliness of their capabilities are frequently drawn upon for dramatic irony and cognitive dissonance. The rather hallucinatory design of most of the work can get under your skin if it weren’t for the (sometimes forced) comedic relief segments. And for those who think it looks creepy, I have to say… that’s the idea. It’s not just Gothic, it’s Gothity-Goth-Goth Goth.
And that says nothing of the series’ broken villainess, Suigintoh. We don’t much about her this point, save that she’s bad news. Oh, and she’ll tear your arm right out of its socket. (Read and see…)
So pick up a copy of Rozen Maiden… get in touch with your effete feminine side today!
Final Grade: A-.
Employees of Croach & Croach Jr. MUST NOT:
touch, breathe on, or stand too near Mr. Croach Jr. unless they wish to be fired immediately.
No children are allowed in any room Mr. Croach Jr. occupies.
Any member of the staff who has recently handled a child must undergo immediate quarantine.
–Notice at Croach & Croach Jr., the Proto-Hollow Fields
Manga >> Madeleine Rosca’s Hollow Fields (Vols. 1-2)
If you are one of those insufferable wights who believe that any story involving something magical or mysterious is automatically child’s play, you probably won’t like the Hollow Fields series very much. I would assume you’re not one of these, however, since you’re taking valuable time out of your day to read this weblog.
That said, the Australian Ms. Rosca’s Hollow Fields is an adorably Gothic tale in the tradition of another Poe-writ-small, Lemony Snicket. In fact, she even lists Snicket among her influences. Anyway, the basic premise of Fields is that Lucy Snow, the precious, bunny-eared heroine of the series, has been sent by her somewhat neglectful parents to a prestigious boarding school in the vicinity of Nullsville. Unfortunately, she ends up getting sidetracked and, with obligatory stuffed animal sidekick Dino in tow, she stumbles upon the secretive steampunk nightmare that is Ms. Weaver’s Academy for the Scientifically Gifted and Ethically Unfettered. In short, a school for mad scientists.
The “Engineers” that run the school are essentially undead corpses that have been kept alive through the magic of steam and clockwork-driven technologies. The children are essentially ensnared through a misleading contract. Every week, a child must be sent to the Windmill for a permanent “detention.” And yet, somehow, a light, silly air befitting an “All Ages”-rated comedy permeates the work, making it a manga I wouldn’t mind my children reading.
Well, except Summer’s evil Deathtrap maybe.
My only major quibble is… well, major. It’s the irritating habits of some characters to repeat quirks (i. e. Lucy’s constant treatment of Dino as if he’s alive, Groundskeeper Croach’s groundless hatred of children, etc.) and Lucy’s incessant st-st-st-stuttering. Venerable manga st-st-st-stereotypes all, but still annoying nonetheless.
Final Grade: A-.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: corporate, empire, enemies of the state, free speech, freedom, libertarianism, the internet
The State and Capital (Big Government and Big Business) work together? Who’da thunk it!
“So what are you going to do with an English major? Are you going to teach?” You bet your ass I am.
