The World's a Small Place

As I wove through the streets of Antigua, sidestepping trash and leaping onto the curb just in time to avoid a motorcycle shooting through traffic, I wondered why I didn't feel disoriented. Over the scene loomed a mist-haloed volcano - it wasn't active, but the other volcano on the other side of town had been spewing lava down its side all day, a track of glowing orange in the distant night sky. The smell of frying meat and melted cheese (mixed with the ubiquitous Diesel fumes) made my stomach grumble. Musical Spanish voices crowded the night air; I had to focus to pick out my meager vocabulary from the jumble, respond, and then shell out a few Quetzales for a meal. 

And bizarrely, I felt right at home.

Meet His Grace - Why You Should Read Archbishop Cranmer

There's a great deal of irony that it was while googling Sir Thomas More that I discovered religio-political commentator/blogger Archbishop Cranmer. For those of you not up on your history of the Church of England (shame, shame), Thomas Cranmer (1489-1556) was the first protestant Archbishop of Canterbury, compiled a good segment of the Book of Common Prayer, recanted his protestant convictions under Catholic queen Mary, was convicted to burning at stake, recanted his recantation, and died a martyr. Before that, he helped accomplish the divorce which Thomas More died rather than consent to (not to mentioning being part of the group that interrogated More).

Of course, I'm not talking about that Cranmer. I'm talking about his 21st Century reincarnation as an anonymous political blogger. His Grace, as he calls himself, posts regularly from a shamelessly Anglican perspective on politics in and out of the church. As is evident from the stream of testimonials on His Grace's page, he's widely read and respected in the U.K. (even Richard Dawkins has found time to emerge from his lair and call him "very nasty indeed"), and he presents a reasonable and intelligent commentary on most relevant issues, even when I don't agree with him. In particular, he has kept me up to date on the state of the church in Iraq (it's dire.)

Doctor Who is a God - Science Fiction and the Worship of Man

[You know how sometimes you write dumb stuff when you're younger and then get over it? That's basically the definition of this piece. I'm keeping it up for human interest, but I'm an enormous Doctor Who fan now.]

I've come to two conclusions about Science Fiction. First, if there's any chance of enjoying things like Star Wars, Star Trek, and Doctor Who, one must embrace the inherent campiness of it. Chewbacca? Alien octopuses in robotic shells that have no emotion but hate? Yes, please. The other conclusion? Stay tuned.

Over the last few weeks, I've watched enough New Doctor Who episodes to get a pretty fair grasp of the show. I know not to call him Doctor Who, but The Doctor. I can hold my own in a conversation that throws around terms like "Cybermen" and "Daleks" and "Time Lords" and even (ugh) "Slitheens." 

For those of you who don't know - Doctor Who is about a 900-year-old shape-shifter who travels through space and time in a ship shaped like a 1950's police-box and saves various realities from malign species, accompanied by amusing, usually female sidekicks. He never dies, but regenerates every few years into another member of RADA. And yes, it's about as campy as it sounds, but there are moments when it transcends its genre.

Here's the thing: I really wanted to like this show. I really did. And I did like it, through the first season. It was season two that killed it for me. (I am compelled to add, however, that season 3 pulled me back into the fold, thanks mostly to Donna Noble.) After what I realized watching the second season, it can never be quite the same.

The Children of Men - Review & Quotes

You return man to dust
and say, “Return, O children of man!”

For a thousand years in your sight

are but as yesterday when it is past,

or as a watch in the night….

So teach us to number our days

that we may get a heart of wisdom.
(Psalm 90 ESV)

To those familiar with the mystery genre, P.D. James is a very prominent name. Her series, featuring poet detective Adam Dalgliesh, is among the best contributions in modern mystery. However, she has also written standalone books, among them the dystopian philosophical novel The Children of Men. After listening to clips from a 1992 interview with James on Mars Hill Audio, I decided I must investigate.

There are a lot of doomsayers out there, but one of the most compelling arguments I’ve heard is the idea that those countries with the greatest birth rates will rule the world, as described by Mark Steyn in his book America Alone. America, for instance, is scraping by at just above replacement rate, which means we'll soon have an enormous elderly population alongside a much smaller young generation - there's no chance one will counterbalance the other. It's already happening in Japan.

The Children of Men is an extreme realization of that possibility, and it's simply an amazing novel. (EDIT: Interestingly, Mark Steyn drew inspiration from the book, and is acquainted with its author.) While ultimately falling short of its potential, it touches on a huge variety of relevant themes: apathy, power, hypocrisy, hope, death, worship, love, and above all, the sanctity of life.

Les Miserables - When It's Good It's Very, Very Good - Part 2

Continued from Part 1.

Warning: Absolutely packed with spoilers. Though I know this is 100+ years after it was published, most of the major plots twists in this book were ruined for me through the internet. So. I'm warning you.

In the first half of this post, I reviewed the story and more practical elements of Les Mis - in this follow-up, I get into the philosophy. That's code for: this will be boring to everyone but Hannah Long. Also, I am writing this from a Christian perspective, and am critiquing ideas by comparing them to theology, so Prepare Yourself.