Context 2008 - This is how I Roll

This pretty much sums up my con experience. Friends, family, networking, parties, and laughs. And as Alethea said "if this picture was a sitcom, you'd watch it."


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Episode 31: Give me a slice of Mr. Broaddus

I was on another JustLifeTv podcast. The topic was my idea given a conversation that my wife and I had a week or so ago (which then was echoed by Team Broaddus).

Episode Synopsis
Almost everyone I know is busy. Busy with work, family obligations, hobbies, etc. Busy-ness has become a virtue in our culture. So today, we’re going to talk about what contributes to our busy-ness and what we are doing to keep our heads above water.

You can check out the podcast directly here. The whole idea of learning to rest is a tough one for me, though it might be time for me to revisit my blog Take Your Ass Home.


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Twittered (aka Project Fail)

Pretty much, this is my new icon. I barely survived ConText. I certainly didn't come out of it unscathed.

Due to Brian Keene, THE Kelli Dunlap, and the endless haranguing of my personal assistant/board mod, Lauren David, I have succumbed to peer pressure (and my own declarations) and started a Twitter account:

http://twitter.com/MauriceBroaddus

No pleads for you to follow me, this is just an fyi, because I wasn't lying when I said to expect a lot of gibberish.

(Sheesh, it's barely been up five minutes and the mocking begins ...)


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Courtesy Flush for Jesus (Or, On Being a Stepford Christian)

One of the things that made me absolutely miserable about my Christian walk was the guilt of it all. It was like the church body I was a part of had this singular idea of how a Christian life should be led and any deviation from it and you were made to feel like you were a bad Christian. It was a whole culture of thought and deed. Life was to be lived according to a rigid set of rules, clear cut dos and don'ts (heavy on the don'ts because the don'ts were what separated us from "the world"). Books weren't to be trusted unless they were written by MacArthur, Piper, or a few select mini-popes. Music, movies, any entertainment really, had better have been purchased at a local Christian book store (CHRISTIAN bookstore, not one of those Catholic ones).

Forget the idea of trying to be genuine, there was a set of rules you had to live by, all within the greater context of a culture and mindset. You had to get up and do “devotions” (which meant 30 minutes of Bible reading and prayer). Lord help you if you didn’t “get your day started right.” It got to be so that folks made each other guilty and miserable, robbing each other of the joy of their spiritual journey, by making each other feel like you were not loving God if you weren’t spending that critical 30 minutes in study. I know folks who’d end up reading the Bible during their “morning sit down” in order to squeeze in their time while getting ready for work, calling in their spouses to discuss applicable verses. (Thus the lament for a courtesy flush for Jesus.)

If you were a woman, you were expected to be a wife (sorry, no single Christian women allowed; you could only be fulfilled as a Christian as a wife. Technically you had to be a wife AND mother to fully be in the club). You were expected to homeschool, because what right thinking Christian would dare allow their kids into the public school system. And, since you weren’t expected to hold a job, you had to otherwise make the most of your time, I don’t know, threshing wheat or something.

It was a game of keeping up with the spiritual Jones’ enforced by the mega church mafia.

It got to the point where I felt like I had to put on a show, rather than be real with other Christians. Mind you, it’s not the discipline of Bible study and prayer that I’m down on. It’s the guilt-laden coercion into it. Basically, folks were being made into Stepford Christians, or other people’s idea of what a Christian should be. It is ironic that in Christ we’ve become free from the law and sin, only to become slaves to one another. To quote Michael Yaconelli in his book, Messy Spirituality:

“Spirituality is not a formula; it is not a test. it is a relationship. Spirituality is not about competency; it is about intimacy. Spirituality is not about perfection; it is about connection. The way of the spiritual life begins where we are NOW in the mess of our lives. Accepting the reality of our broken, flawed lives is the beginning of spirituality not because the spiritual life will remove our flaws but because we LET GO is seeking perfection and, instead, seek God, the one who is present in the tangledness of our lives. Spirituality is not about being fixed; it is about God's being present in the mess of our unfixedness.”

Christian spirituality should be about encountering the person of Christ, and then a living out of that interactive relationship in every moment of life. It’s about knowing God, not knowing about God. We don’t need hyper-regimented, guilt-filled lives to call ourselves spiritual. God sees you. He knows you. You might as well be honest, authentic, and interact with Him in the midst of how you are … not how others think you ought to be. Each relationship is different. There shouldn’t be any Stepford Christians.


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[BIB] – Black Marketing

(crosss-posted on Blogging in Black/Readers Room)

A while back, I did a series of blogs/interviews with some of my black horror writing colleagues. As it turns out, I ended up doing a collaboration with one of them. Wrath James White and I wrote the novella Orgy of Souls. To our editor’s delight, we quickly earned out our advance, but we’re not satisfied with that.

You see, the bulk of the marketing of the novella was done through the channels one would expect a horror novella to be marketed. The book is available at the Apex book store, Amazon, and Horror Mall. There have been the usual posts on horror message boards and advertising in horror magazines. (And when you have a publisher putting in the effort to market your work, you’re thankful because that’s less you ultimately have to do). The novella is now up at Fictionwise, the e-book is on sale for $4.24 for the next two weeks. (Fictionwise provides in a number of formats including Kindle, PDF, and eReader.)

So then I asked, what are we doing to market to the black community? While I was expecting “you’re the black writers. You’re supposed to tell me.” his response was “I’m gonna put someone on that. Any help would be appreciated.”

One of the contentions I’ve repeated made to horror publishers was that the black market was going ignored. No one can complain about a lack of readers when there are whole populations of readers going specifically ignored (a topic specifically discussed by my colleagues). So I’m putting together my list of black reviewers and black book clubs (RawSistaz and APOO I’m looking at you). I’m ramping up my presence on several black message boards (Black Science Fiction Society and the AAMBC). I’m making my list of black book stores in my area (X-Pression Bookstore & Gallery and Elevations Book & Coffee Shop) to arrange signings. I’m checking out the Carl Brandon Society. So as I’m thinking through the next phase of my marketing campaign, I’m turning to the Blogging in Black experts. What else would you recommend?


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An Atheist and a “Pastor” Go Into a Convention Part IV

[Bringing you up to speed, here’s Part I, Part II, and Part III - I now respond to B]

Sadly, I’m quite used to the tone.

Atheists constantly try to convert me and whether they realize it or not, usually with a chip on their shoulder. I know (or at least try to remember) where it comes from. Many of their stories follow similar trajectories. Many were burned by the church. We have burned a lot of people, literally and figuratively; and frankly, as much as one person can apologize for other’s history of mistakes, I’m sorry. If for nothing else, my participation in that history of mistakes. We, as the church, fall short of who we ought to be and what we ought to be doing.

Many have been burned (or enlightened) by their own faith, as in they asked questions and didn’t get answers that made sense to them and it led to them becoming disconnected with the historic Christian faith and led them down other paths.

Overlapping those two trajectories of stories are those who, due to their re-experience with members of the Christian faith, walk into conversations with Christians anticipating certain reactions. In other words, it takes a while for their guard to drop.

However, the tone does rub me the wrong way when it’s not just enough for you to not believe, but you want to spread the “truth” or, more on point, when anyone who doesn’t believe like you is stupid. It smacks of not respecting the beliefs of others and, in truth, you become everything you don’t like about religion and/or Christian folks.

So let's just be careful that the tone doesn’t end the conversation.

Let me tell you where I’m coming from. Whenever anyone is trying to convert me (or even engage me in an agenda driven conversation), their message is only as good as the messenger. It forces me to constantly be evaluating my life and faith. If my life isn’t marked by me loving others and taking care of the poor, my faith (or whatever I profess to believe) is meaningless. If I’m not being formed into the kind of person my faith claims to make, then all of the logical arguments in the world is not going to convince anyone of anything.

Of course what I believe is foolishness. Faith often is. Look, I’m basically saying I believe there was a guy running around 2000 years ago claiming to be God (a claim which would get folks committed these days). Whose life impacted those around him. Who was crucified, like so many others were, but then folks said he rose from the dead. And that’s before the 3-in-1 God I believe in or even the idea of God incarnating and becoming a man.

There are days when I’m not feeling it. Days when I wake up and go wtf? Days when my prayer feels like me talking to my imaginary friend. So folks wanting to convince me of “the truth” probably aren’t going to share anything I haven’t thought about.

Is there a God isn’t necessarily a good question. A better question would be if He does exist, has He revealed himself in a way we understand but not exhaust? After all, if He hasn’t revealed Himself, He might as well not exist. (In my faith paradigm, He has revealed Himself truly and fully in Christ). To be compatible with secularism, we would have to remove any sense of mystery, any sense of the transcendent, and to do so would remove the essence of faith.

Faith isn’t an epistemology, but it is how you know what you know. It’s meant to shape you, to create a relationship, what could be described as a mystical knowing of God or the supernatural. Which is what I would describe as the role of the Bible in my life.

The Bible is a collection of stories. Not a history book, not a science text, not even a series of dogmatic propositions. To treat it as such is a failed proposition, reducing and misusing the canon. It’s a collection of stories I’ve chosen to let shape my life. It is a tool for spiritual transformation and formation, not necessarily given as a “Christian epistemology.” In short, I use it to affect my life. The idea of the Bible as a story especially appeals to me as a writer as I firmly believe that stories convey truths propositions can’t, or rather, fall short in being able to do it. Stories can be grasped in any age, by any culture. And a story doesn’t have to be totally true in its details for it to be true.

The only thing analogous to faith that I can think of is the act of “falling in love”. Falling in love isn’t rational. We can pretty it up to where “the practical information outweighs the romantic notions to the point where the romantic notions are meaningless.” Is love an evolved response to protect our genes being passing on? A biological imperative dressed up, given more meaning that it has? That kind of answer is sure to crimp ones dating life.

Since it can’t be quantified, I measure my faith experientially. Though there are days when it doesn’t make sense, there are many more days when it does. If only to me. And when all is said and done, all faith is personal and experienced individually.


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Doktor Sleepless – A Review

“Future Science Jesus”

Warren Ellis (newuniversal, Thunderbolts, Desolation Jones) is one of those writers who even at his most lackadaisical, his stories are interesting, hyper, and edgy, not easily slipping from the mind. Sometimes his ideas are big (Planetary), sometimes he’s simply exploring what the comic book form can do (Fell). Sometimes he likes to mount philosophical campaigns with a measure of technofuturism thrown in for good measure, integrating every half-possible speculation into his writings (Transmetropolitan, so the comparisons between these two books is understandable).

As much anarchist manifesto, V for Vendetta with a more science fiction bent, Doktor Sleepless is chock full of Ellis' philosophical musings, throwing out some interesting ideas about the present and future of technology and its impact on social networking, community, and our individuality.

“All are welcome in my house for it has many rooms.” –Doktor Sleepless

Doktor Sleepless, aka John Reindhart, our post-modern shaman and techno-messiah, stopped being real and became a character. By his thinking, the only way for a messenger to promulgate his message is to create an image of himself, shifting from man to legend, in order for his ideas to take root and spread. The reader right away dives into a techno-fetishist world of drugs, IM on contact lenses (Clatter), extreme body modifications, abortions kept as jewelry, shriek girl subculture (girls who are wirelessly connected for simultaneous experience), and tulpas (idea thought forms made manifest).

“The one thing I can tell you about the world is that it doesn’t work. It is in fact so fucking broken that if it were this computer here, you’d take it to the store and demand a new one.” –Doktor Sleepless

The grinders, the everyday work class, toil in what passes for their lives in Heavenside, a place separated by a mountain range from Hellside. Signs have popped up expressing their disappointment with the future they were promised: No flying cars, no jet packs, no space ships, no ray guns. Doktor Sleepless has taken it upon himself to lead them from their mundane lives of complacency and acceptance and move them toward a path of fulfilling who they were meant to be.

The first step on this path to individual freedom is the realization of the dilemma that we find ourselves in. In their world, there is something terribly wrong. The people live lives of coerced conformity, their freedoms curtailed. They sense that they weren’t who they were supposed to be. For the grinders, their shame, their sin, is in their very ordinariness, aggressive apathy, not life to their fullest potential.

“Changing the world is as easy, and as hard, as just changing the way every thinks about their world.” –Doktor Sleepless

The true revolution begins, with a new idea and faith in a new hope. For such a revolution to take root, it needs messengers to carry the idea forth and converts to live out the mission. Doktor Sleepless and his assistant, the murdering assassin/bodyguard Nurse Igor, weave a tapestry of symbols, propaganda war, and the occasional spot of violence to nudge the grinders toward taking ahold of their situation, living for their future rather than waiting on it.

“Stop looking for something that isn’t there. You live in the future and you don’t know it.” –Doktor Sleepless

Doktor Sleepless is more than Ellis being Ellis. It’s science-fiction at its highest, full of ideas examining community, identity, ideas, future, technology. It also sees Ellis at his most poetic, though admittedly some of the prose in the book began as flash fiction pieces for him. He’s not walking through this one, doling out fanboy biscuits of violence and bastards. There is a brooding intentionality, a philosophical scraping, as he pulls together not only this graphic novel but in a bit of meta collaboration, a shared/network experience, a wiki emulator website so that entries can be added to by anyone. Everything is connected.


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Forbearing One Another (or, This Discipline Sucks)

Once again I’m trying to figure out an aspect of my faith, in this case wrestling with what is supposed to be a simple command: “Forbear one another”. So I'm trying to ask myself a few simple questions:

What does it mean to forbear (bear with or give slack to) one another and what does it look like in your life?

What does it mean to give people room and space to be who they are?

What does it mean to give people room and space to become who they are?

What does it mean to give people room and space to contribute and belong despite imperfections?

Who are you called to bear with?

It’s easy to like people who like you or are like you. The true test of your faith comes in loving your enemies. The annoying. The “extra grace people”. And think of how good God is at forgiving, putting up with, looking past the mistakes of, and loving people … and how we’re called to reciprocate it by forbearing one another.

So I’m stuck with this simple prayer: “Lord, teach me to love.”


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On Nap Nazis

Okay, this is just an escalating pet peeve of mine, so you may want to just skip this rant.

I realize that not everyone counts the cost of what it means to be a part of a church plant. There are sacrifices that one has to make. Not all the “programs” will be set. Heck, there might not be any programs to speak of. For a while, that was the number one complaint we had when we got started: we didn’t have any programs for the kids.

Yes, I get it. You believe that children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way.

I believe we’ve raised children to the level of idols. The children end up ruling the household because they are apparently fragile and in need of constant shielding (protection is one thing, encasing them in a plastic bubble is quite another). Yet more and more parents become slaves to the routine and schedule of their kids.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m like the Ayn Rand of parenting: I believe in the selfish parent. My kids have to adjust to my schedule. Until they start paying bills, they jump to my tune, not vice versa.

Then there’s the church culture many of us grew up in. The one with programs for kids starting when they can sit up and are taught to “pat the Bible” as their nursery theological training (because, well, as you know, the Bible is the fourth person of the Godhead and we should be worshiping it, not allowing it to point us to God). We need to just admit that most of our concern for programs for our kids boil down to 1) we abdicate our role as the spiritual teachers in our children’s life and want someone else to do it and 2) we want free babysitting for a couple hours (and, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the idea of dropping off my kids at a church nursery so that I can go home to cry out “oh God, oh God” in an entirely different context).

Oh, and don’t get me started on being slaves to a nap schedule. I get that we’re a consumer culture, and we want church to serve us like Burger King: I’ll have a whopper of spirituality done my way! So we choose the services we attend in order to coincide with our precious, precious baby’s nap schedule. I appreciate the need for constancy in a schedule, but one day a week breaking your routine won’t kill anyone. Just admit that we’re ultimately still slaves to our own convenience and that it’s about you and your comfort. Again, I’m the Ayn Rand, I can appreciate that.

In short, if you want to talk to me about creating a rhythm to your life, I’m all good with that. And I’m all good with basing your routine around your Sunday morning or the convenience of your life. Just realize that you are modeling the importance of the gathering. Balance that out with the realization that it’s only one hour out of week when you worry about the programs you are subjecting your kids to. That isn’t going to be the bulk of what forms them. If I want my kids to be compassionate, I have to model compassion and be compassionate 6 days and 23 hours a week rather than stick them in a class for 1 hour a week and hoping for the best as they pat the Bible.

Of course, I can only rant like this as long as our church stays at Sunday mornings at 10:30 a.m. If we had to move to a Sunday night service, we'd have to leave early because our kids have to go to bed at 7:30 pm or they are monsters the next day.


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Hmm ... now we ought to sue PA

Self-Publishing Services and Defamation

In light of this, here's my plan: I need a volunteer to write a book that says a lot of defaming things about me. Preferably stuff that isn't actually true. (Surely I've pissed off enough of you that I should have a church full of volunteers). You publish your book through PublishAmerica, who promises editorial oversight of your product (plus that dollar advance!)

Then I sue you and PublishAmerica for millions.

BRILL!!!

Okay legal scholars, tell me why this wouldn't work.


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What'd You do this Weekend?

I hung out with John Everson who was in town to do a signing for his first Leisure release, Covenant.*
Mid signing, Tommy Chong (as in Cheech and Chong) comes wandering through.
You can't ask for much more than that from a signing.



*Free Covenant plug: A mix of mystery, the occult and horror, Covenant was first issued in November 2004 from Delirium Books in a signed & numbered, hardcover format, and on June 25, 2005 the Horror Writers Association presented Covenant with a Bram Stoker Award in the "First Novel" category in a ceremony in Burbank, California. You can see articles, photos, and watch a video of my award acceptance here.

The novel follows Joe Kieran, an investigative reporter who discovers a web of mysterious teen suicides that somehow connect five women in a small coastal town. Is there really a malevolent presence inside Terrel Cliff that holds all of the town in thrall? Or is there a murderous covenant between five women to sacrifice their first-born?

Beneath the remains of a long-demolished lighthouse, Joe discovers Terrel's secret history and salvation and puts his own soul in deadly danger.


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Secret Invasion – A Review

“Who do you trust?”

Written by: Brian Michael Bendis
Art by: Leinil Yu
Published by: Marvel Comics

“And out of nothingness will you outstretch your hand and take in that which needs you. Only then will the doors to the heavens open for you and your brothers.” –The Book of Worlds

The problem with “summer blockbuster” comic books is that, well, they’re comic books. Event comics have to live up to being events which typically means the first issues are about the big reveals rather than the story. Secret Invasion is no different, except for the issue of scale. As event comics go, Secret Invasion is huge. Three years in the making—with clues and hints strewn from various titles from Secret War to the first story arc of the New Avengers to Civil War to Illuminati—Secret Invasion is big, its repercussions felt for years (hopefully in more ways that just a bunch of lame spinoff titles). The hype for the event has been off the scales. And it’s all the brainchild of Brian Michael Bendis.

The story is simple and familiar. Shape-shifting Skrulls (an alien race introduced early in the history of Marvel Comics, so they are longtime foes) have infiltrated Earth. They have secretly kidnapped a number of important figures in the governments and superhuman community and replaced them. The superhero community has been distracted by a number of stressful events (Civil War and House of M to name just a couple), thus the secret invasion. When anyone can be a Skrull, including the teammate you’ve fought alongside for so long, the question rightly becomes “Who do you trust?”

Big event demand big payoffs. If the criticism of House of M was its slow pace (since event comics can’t spend too much time rooted in characterization apparently), Secret Invasion is its polar opposite. One can’t quite escape the feel of this being little more than a storyline within the New Avengers, as the series revolves around them with a few other characters, like the Fantastic Four, making guest appearances (only fitting considering that the Skrulls first appeared back in the Fantastic Four #2 in 1962 and the pivotal Kree-Skrull War depicted in Avengers #89-97 back in 1971-1972).

The back-history of the Skrulls is part of the fun of the book. Longtime fans appreciate the shoutouts strewn throughout the book, like the "classic" Marvel heroes of the Jim Shooter era emerging to battle the current Marvel heroes of the Quesada era. The bit of metafictional play at work here acts as its own commentary on the more innocent days (when Iron Man was called "Shellhead" and Luke Cage shouted what ALL black people must have used as profanity—you know, when he was written by folks who’d never actually met a black person—“Sweet Christmas!”). I’m just not sold on Leinil Yu's artwork. Maybe the ink work was off in the faces, but most of the guys look like forlorn old men in close up.

“If, in the name of their God or money or both, they believe something to be theirs, they just take it.” –The Skrulls

Secret Invasion is the story of the colonizer run amuck. An aspect of colonialism is its conquest mentality that works by making other cultures less than theirs, debasing one while exalting the colonizer’s. Think of how the western imperialist colonizers viewed Africa as an untamed land with ungodly people, that there was nothing good in this dark and scary continent–other than its resources–and that its people were entirely under the power of the devil. Or how the United States was a revolutionary country in that it threw off the shackles of its own colonial masters.

“And when all is said and done, they write the history books themselves and they make sure they come out the heroes.” –The Skrulls

Without the ability of one cultural story to communicate with another, their interactions become a history of miscues and misunderstandings, then paranoid pre-emptive strikes, followed by the blame game of who hit who first (which justifies the other hitting back). The colonizing mentality then becomes one of cultures moving to eradicate other stories. When stories are reduced to law or dogma (cryptic references in the Book of Worlds), their vitality is drained. When people no longer tell or listen to others’ stories, they become locked in their provincial mindset, cultural ghettos of their own making. In fact, when people become so removed from another’s story, they become compelled to destroy those (other’s) stories for they suggest other ways of living. Their stories become a threat.

“We have travelled across the universe to save you from yourselves. You have so much potential, but you’re on the brink of complete disaster. You are at constant war and living in disease you cannot cure … what most disturbs us is that you are fully aware of your situation and actions … and though you’ve evolved to a place to do something about it, you do nothing.” –The Skrulls

Lastly, Secret Invasion has the same spiritual implications of other Invasion of the Body Snatcher type stories. The fear of evil, of death, of monsters, be they inhuman or entirely too human. We have this sense that things aren’t as they should be, that people aren’t who we think them to be. The people we know and love being ... different. Looking the same on the surface but being strangers underneath. This disrupts our fabric of trust. And in a fight, especially among the spandex set, you have to be able to trust the one next to you. Without it, community—the band of brothers—is destroyed.

The monsters, the extra-terrestrial biological entities, represent the unseen power that we suspect lurk around us, are a part of our everyday lives even if we don’t realize it. Metaphorically, they capture the reality of us struggling against our own flesh (our inherent weakness as human beings) as well as powers beyond us. We forget who we really are, what we were created to be, and are left as lost, bewildered, and stumbling through this life as those infected by the alien presence.

“I know something about having voices in your head. Voices pulling you in different directions. And I also know something –this might sound strange, and it is—but I know something about not being sure if youre really pink or green. And I can tell you this … only one person can decide who you are inside and out. And that is you.” –Norman Osborne

Similar to summer event movies, fans can keep complaining about event burnout all they want, but if they keep buying the events in droves, don’t look for the corporate machines to change their strategies anytime soon. All we can hope for is that the story justifies the event (World War Hulk, I’m looking at your massive letdown) or that the world changing nature of the event has time to fully coalesce and be felt by the characters before the next title expansive storyline hits (X-Men, this is why I quit collecting your family of books). For all of the tie-ins, one-shots, and spinoff books, Secret Invasion is a great story that can be enjoyed strictly within the core book. And enjoy it I have.


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An Atheist and a “Pastor” Go Into a Convention Part III

Click here for Part I and Part II. At this point in our conversation, I got the feeling B was talking at me or rather at the person he expected me to be. It was like he was engaging the Christian response he was used to getting rather than engaging me. But maybe that’s just my reading of his response:

I apologize for the "tone". I'm continually criticized for having an attacking style of writing...but my primary goal is simply to be honest.

[“Cold embrace”] – yes, the laws of nature are indifferent to our feelings and emotions. However, people are not. I still have feelings. I have family I care about and who care about me. I spend a lot of time with friends. We grow, we learn. I develop attachments and affections. I continue to experience joy and sorrow because of life events. My life isn’t lifeless, very much the opposite.

[Are you left with only becoming a humanist or a nihilist?] I certainly don’t agree with nihilist attitudes. My life has meaning to me. My life has the purpose I recognize and that I choose to give it. There are things that are worth doing. There are still goals and challenges. There is satisfaction. I still empathize with others. I still want to lessen pain and increase satisfaction and happiness for myself and for others. I recognize the patterns of life. Doing things with friends is fun and is a good thing. Our lives are better because of our caring for each other and accepting each other. I don’t struggle with the meaning of life. I accept life.

[Humanism:] I don’t feel constrained by Humanism which seems to be what you’re inferring. Humanism is about having positive values and a positive outlook. Humanism recognizes the things I’ve been talking about in the proceeding paragraphs. But by itself, humanism isn’t limiting.

Non-belief is not inherently negative or sub-standard to belief which your “tone” of questions suggests. Non-belief does not preclude happiness or satisfaction or love…we’re all still human. But even if non-belief were less “joyful,” Are you going to choose to promote fictions because accepting the truth appears to be unattractive? How does integrity apply?

[Is telling the truth about reality just a “different precept?”] Consistently in your writings, you attempt to equate faith and belief as being equally dependable as the known truths of our reality. They are not on equal footing. As I have said before, no one can produce any practical evidence for the existence of the Christian God. I have plenty of evidence for the existence of natural law. The Christian God and Jesus as “Christ” easily fall in the category of human invention. Gravity is not a human invention. The Earth, the solar system and the Universe are not a human invention. Subatomic particles are not a human invention. The laws of probability are not a human invention. And there is solid evidence for all these things. The Christian God, by definition is “super-natural.” Yet, no practical evidence of a “super-natural” being, active and participating is shown. Human feelings, human desires, and human emotions don’t make the Christian God a reality – a truth.

[although i'm curious, i would think that being an atheist would be enough. everyone's beliefs are their own and folks tend to get prickly with religious/social movements when they seek to convert. how is your "spread the message" about "what the truth is" make you any different from any other evangelistic religion except with differing precepts.]

“everyone’s beliefs are their own.” Really? That’s not the approach I see the typical Christian taking. How many atheists have come knocking at your door to preach atheism? I get Christians knocking pretty regularly. I find their leaflets in my front door. In my personal experience, dealing with Christian family and Christian friends, my non-belief is NOT considered acceptable, nor is it respected. For me to discuss anything that seems to contradict Christian teachings is “unseemly” and “distasteful” in these Christian dominated groups. And yet, all I’m presenting is presenting something that is part of our reality…the only reason it’s “unseemly” or “distasteful” is because of Christian teachings…which are based on what? Certainly not the hard evidence that shows evolution to be true…and by the way, when I talk about evolution, I’m talking about Common Descent. Christians like to argue about “survival of the fittest” and the relative merits of what steers evolution…but the key issue is really Common Descent. Common Descent has been shown to be a truth. We share common ancestry with other animals…to this point, no living entity can be ruled out as not sharing common descent with humans…maybe there is something, but to this point, we either find that a living entity does share common descent or it’s inconclusive. My point being that common descent is simply the way it is. Why does (public) school stop for an hour on Wednesday’s in my county for Weekday Religious Education? And why are children of non-believers separated out and sent to the library? Is it ok for the majority to isolate the minority socially? What ways are acceptable and what ways are unacceptable?

I was at the Brickyard 400 last Sunday. There was an invocation prayer given before the race that prayed to the Christian God and referred to Jesus Christ, lord and savior. Now, understanding my “take” on Christianity, it would be hypocritical for me to take off my hat and bow. Yet, that is what is expected of me by the Christian majority. We are on opposite sides of a gap…what is there to bridge that gap? I would say God if there were any chance that God were real. But God isn’t real. What’s left? The information that describes the truth of reality is what is left. Those things that show how nature and natural law really work…and they consistently show no involvement by the Christian God.

The reality is that people, in groups, discriminate against others outside that group. Are they justified? My interpretation of Christian teachings, and I think this is more than fair, is that if you’re a “believer” you’re acceptable to the Christian group and a “non believer” is unacceptable as a full and complete participant in society. The “non believer” is marginalized. As an atheist, if Christians on the whole were truly accepting of me and respected me, then I wouldn’t have any (meaningful) problem with Christians. I wouldn’t focus my attention on them. But that’s not the way it is. So I am fighting back and I’m fighting back with the truth of our reality.

Because, eventually, in the end, the truth of reality shows itself for what it is and, in my opinion, it’s the best possible common denominator for us to share. I’m trying to help that process along to what I hope is its inevitable conclusion. It’s very sad for me to think that humanity ultimately allows fiction to win out over the truth of reality. Humans don’t always put telling the truth as their highest priority.

-B

Any takers on responding to B’s points?


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I Hear and Obey - Photo Meme

"'Cause if all your friends jump off the bridge and you don't, life is pretty lonely." Alethea Kontis

Take a picture of yourself right now.
Don't change your clothes, don't fix your hair...just take a picture.
Post that picture with NO editing.
Post these instructions with your picture.

Yes, before showering and shaving, I exist in a fuzzy, gentle glow.


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Church Eats Its Own Part II: No Room for Sinners Here

People fall.

I don’t even think of it as falling any more. We screw up, it’s what we do. The measure of our faithfulness isn’t in how many times we fall down (or how creatively, because believe me, some days it feels like I have an entire Research & Development wing devoted to finding new ways for me to screw up), but in our ability to get up, dust ourselves off, and keep going.

Yet too often, the Church eats its own. It’s like we make a sport of trampling over the fallen as if that’s part of their punishment and our holy duty to do so. We assume the authority to judge whether another is doing ministry the way God wants, living lifestyles in line with how “Christians should act” (because there’s only one mold apparently), and being spiritual the way we should (again, back to that one mold).

No wonder so many niche ministries have such a defensive posture when talking to their brethren. They recognize that it’s easier to think ill of our neighbor, that they don’t do ministry right, rather than credit them with not only wanting to do ministry, but appreciating their ability to do things you can’t and reach people you couldn’t. There’s lots of room to be the body of Christ, yet too many folks want everyone to be a toe. Listen to how different church people treat each other when they disagree. We can’t have a generous orthodoxy, where one party doesn’t have the sole key to how things are interpreted, but rather we not only slander but dehumanize our brothers and sisters.

Heaven help you if you actually sin. Again, love and forgiveness should be our calling cards, but we can be a murderously intolerant lot. I’d daresay there is a hatred in how we treat folks sometimes, especially those we’ve deemed fallen/sinners. The thing about fallen folks is that now their façade is gone. There’s no longer that need for pretense, you are what you are, it’s been revealed to all (and in truth, it now makes you … no different than the rest of us). Our treatment of “the fallen” should be where we shine most, being a hospital for the sick, demonstrating the grace, the redemption, the inclusion, and the power to transform and heal as a community comes along side them.

Basically people, I know I’m going to “fall” (we’ll just my regular lifestyle hiccups as mere stumbles). I know I’m going to let people down. I know that I will struggle. And when I do, I want a community to come alongside me, allow me to be broken, and then help restore me in love and grace. That’s what I’d like to see out of a spiritual community.


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Church Eats Its Own Part I: Devouring our Pastors

I’ve discussed the idea of how the church typically responds to fallen leaders. It's a tough thing to wrestle with. There are some behaviors which should "disqualify" you from leadership. On the other hand, you still have gifts and you are obligated to use them. Being close friends with pastors, and now having fallen into a church leadership role despite years carefully avoiding such a role, I can say that it’s amazing more pastors don’t “fall.” Or at least burn out at a rate similar to public school teachers.

They are set up to fall and we create the bullseye. For a start, protestations aside, there is a trap for them to be perfect. We tend to put them on a pedestal or in front of us rather than beside us or allowed a measure of grace. I understand that part of that is the role they play of speaking into our lives. Any time we grant someone the right to speak into our lives with authority, there is an assumed elevation to them. Ironically, as intuitively natural as that may feel, we don’t do that with our friends. My friends have earned the right to course correct me if they see me going astray, but it doesn’t mean that they have to pull some sort of rank in order to do it.

Speaking of friends, I’ve been stunned by how lonely the role of pastor can be. They don’t seem to be allowed to have close friends. It’s like they can’t effectively pastor people who know them too well. The corollary to that is that folks don’t really allow their pastors to be real around them. Even in my role as “facilitator”, I’ve had to distance myself in some of my relationships because some folks, usually the more “churched” people, have very restrictive ideas about how church leaders should be and act (the two big complaints leveled against me: 1) I’m too fun. Apparently there’s something inherently not to be trusted in someone who’s having too good a time within his religion. And 2) I’m not afraid to have a drink. Look, you deal with church people all day and see if you don’t want to toss a couple down).

So now we’ve created a situation of isolation among the leadership so they are operating on a high wire without a net. Then we chew them up when they fall. Let’s take a “lesser scandal”, for instance, say a pastor becomes addicted to painkillers after an accident. We are quick to shoot our wounded and turn our backs on our fallen brethren. As if any sin automatically disqualifies them from leadership and exercising their gifts. You would think that if the church’s greater mission is to be a part of a ministry of reconciliation, there would be more of an emphasis on being about forgiveness and restoration.

Don’t mind me. Just venting, I guess. Had to hear from too many “I’m not gossiping, I just had a few observations” folks today. And now need a drink.


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The Ex-List – A Review

When I was in my early 20s, laying on my bed late at night, alone, prospects for finding someone pretty grim (thinking about moving out of country to get a fresh start), I made the following prayer to God: God let me at least meet the person I’m supposed to marry. A sincere, if nonsensical (especially in retrospect), prayer borne of desperation. Not one of my brighter moments. One, it was so vague a prayer as to be little more than gibberish (thank you Jesus for interceding for us). Two, it failed to take into account God’s sense of humor: I had actually met the woman I was going to marry in junior high school. And hated her. Who knew I could have built a show on that premise?

In The Ex-List, Bella Bloom (Elizabeth Reaser, Grey’s Anatomy) learns from a psychic that she has already met the true love of her life. Unfortunately, she has one year to figure out who he is (was) or else she forfeits the chance of the happily ever after of marriage. So, with the help of her friends, she lists all the guys she has dated and begins to re-visit her past.

“I know I’m supposed to be all content, alone, and love my life. My life’s great, but I want to get married.” –Bella

Based on an Israeli TV hit, and taking a page from My Name is Earl, this My Name is Skank, er, Bella works her way through her literal to do (or rather, have done) list on a quest for soulmate love. (In her defense, the show's exec producer Diane Ruggiero, expands that it could have been anyone that she romantically encountered, including, say, a boy she passed notes to in class).

“There are higher forces at work. I’m just trying to avoid dying alone.” –Bella

Everyone wants to be loved and be loved by someone. Everyone wants to know and be known by someone. When people speak of intimacy--trying to define what it is they are wanting–they talk about genuine trust, vulnerability, and transparency. They want to feel connected to someone. This sense of connectedness is a characteristic that we want in all of our close relationships. We want to share our lives, be accepted, and be intimate with others. Especially an other.

We are hard-wired for intimacy; we’re relational beings. Augustine spoke of a God-sized hole within each of us - essentially that is that built in need for intimacy. Just as there was an intra-Trinitarian intimacy before creation, so–as His image bearers–do we share this need for intimacy. The pursuit of intimacy is similar to our pursuit of God. We seek that communion, that connection with him as well as with others.

“Nice people get hurt every day. Sometimes it’s good for them.” –psychic

Dramedies are tricky beasts. Taking a page from Ugly Betty, with its large cast and layered story lines (the truly laugh out loud moments stemmed from a subplot involving the … topiary … of her friend’s pubic hair), The Ex-List walks a dangerous tightrope. Still, the show is charming and funny, especially when it veers from the vacuity of Bella and her quest. In other words, try to block out the premise of “let me re-visit the string of losers that I broke up with hopefully for good reasons to see if they are salvageable”.


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Gary Unmarried – A Review

I’ve always liked Jay Mohr and have been waiting for him to find the proper vehicle for his talents. I don’t think this is it, much like Damon Wayans seemed an ill fit in his sitcom vehicle, My Wife and Kids. But both manage to show flashes of what makes their comedy shine despite the formula trappings.

In Gary Unmarried, Gary Barnes, a recently single painting contractor, and his controlling ex-wife, Allison (Paula Marshall), each embark on new relationships after 15 years of marriage. He's the fun parent and she's the strict one raising two children - Louise, a socially conscious 11-year-old, and Tom, their socially awkward 14-year-old. Gary connects with Vanessa, a single mother whose condo he was hired to paint, while Vanessa ends up with their marriage counselor whose book, "Rules for the Perfect Divorce" they had been living by. And then the sitcom hijinks ensue.

“The heart doesn’t know how to follow a bunch of rules.” –Allison

We live in an age of divorce, where one out of two marriages end in divorce, Christian and non-Christian alike. So many folks find themselves single again or dating prospects who have been divorced. As people get older, they don’t have time to waste with the dating game. Many folks find themselves single with kids or single again with kids and have to weigh issues like: going from being single to an instant family, dating while juggling kids, dating while dealing with ex-spouses or the children’s other parent still having to be around, blending two families, and how and when to develop/allow the appropriate attachments. It’s a lot to absorb and deal with on top of trying to figure out if you like the person you’re going out with, though every relationship has its baggage. But there are laughs to be mined from such situations.

I actually liked Gary Unmarried, though I’m not much of a sitcom person. Jay Mohr can charm his way through most scripts and make up for many of the deficiencies in the writing. In the end, I guess I was hoping for a less conventional fate for him. But comedy genius Jim Burrows is directing the series, so there's always hope.


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Worst Week – A Review

In 1951, I Love Lucy one of the greatest comedies of all time made its debut. It set the standard for comedy on television. At its heart were two big screen talents, Lucille Ball and Desi Arnez. Ball’s beauty, charm, and capacity for physical comedy made the show work. For the purposes of this review, screwball comedies revolve around physical comedy, exaggeratedly zany characters, and situations that border on the insane. CBS presents Worst Week … and it’s no I Love Lucy.

In this adaptation of the British sitcom, The Worst Week of My Life, Sam Briggs (Kyle Bornheimer, Jericho), an entertainment magazine editor, is soon-to-be-engaged to his already impregnated girlfriend, Melanie Clayton (Erinn Hayes, Kitchen Confidential). Their only relational hurdle is her parents approval. Her parents, Dick (Kurtwood Smith, That '70s Show), a hard-nosed Judge, and his wife Angela (Nancy Lenehan, My Name is Earl) only want the best for their daughter and have intense hostility toward Sam. This in turn reduces Sam, who desperately wants to please them, into a bumbling idiot whenever he’s around them.

Sam has a turgid haplessness about him and is largely without charm enough to anchor the show. Dick glowers throughout, perpetual dourness as an attempt to enliven things. The “whatever the worst, most ridiculous thing that can happen does” plotting gives it a Three’s Company level of predictability rather than The Office’s inventiveness.

“I’m actually starting to wonder if something’s wrong with me.” –Sam

Parents want to know that their children, daughters especially, will be taken care of, provided for, or otherwise will just be happy. The courtship of them is simply a chance for everyone to know what they are getting into and a chance to observe the dynamic in action. Because not only are the parents/family environment the laboratory they grew up in, when you date someone, you date their families too.

“The only thing that matters is that I love you.” –Mel

I wanted this show to work but it fell flat. Maybe such an old school throwback is simply a hard sell to today’s audiences. It aims for wacky, but wrings few laughs out of it. Have you ever had a really nice person trying to be over-the-top and strain to be zany? That’s this show. And that’s besides the fact that its conceit—I want to please your parents—isn’t exactly built for long term sustainability. Not that this will have to worry about that.


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An Atheist and a Pastor Go Into a Convention Part II

Okay, to catch us up from last time, I started this e-mail exchange with a gentleman (named for the purposes of this blog, B) who attended a panel I was on at InConjunction about whether science and religion can peacefully coexist. My answer, in short, was I hope so since I’m both a scientist and a hack theologian. Both need to give the other room to do what they do as well as allow one to inform the other as needed. There will be times when science will clarify matters of faith just like there will be times when faith can temper our sometimes irrational admiration for the rational.

And yes, I realize that as the constant skeptic and the black guy, we’d be the first two people killed in a horror movie.

Anyway, here was my response to the initial e-mail. I basically try to get at where the person is coming from and see if there is any common ground that we might share:

there are "word games" i may seem to play. for example, i know you are probably going to react poorly when i use faith and certainty, but i truly don't mean them in a strictly supernatural/spiritual sense. for example, i truly believe all quest journeys begin with a leap of faith, that is, what we choose to put our trust in. for some, it is ourselves (the individual or humanity). for some, it is science (the determination of our senses). for some, it is the spiritual (under the assumption that there is more to this life than presented, both in terms of the spiritual and in terms of after this life). and there is/can be some overlap.

the other is with certainty. i know we seemed to cross swords on that one. i think there are things that we can know for certain (eg, how photosynthesis works) but that's different from having an attitude of certainty. when i say that true spirituality and true science abhor certainty, it is because an attitude of certainty stops you from questioning. once you're certain, you "know" and not only do you close your mind to further conversations, but there is no point in further investigation.

ceding to the cold embrace of science as our epistemology, i guess that would only leave me with a couple of choices in terms of my world view: become a humanist or become a nihilist (if i were to remove God from the equation of my life, i'm pretty much left with these options if i am being intellectually honest). would that be a fair assessment?

although i'm curious, i would think that being an atheist would be enough. everyone's beliefs are their own and folks tend to get prickly with religious/social movements when they seek to convert. how is your need to "spread the message" about "what the truth is" make you any different from any other evangelistic religion except with differing precepts?

Actually, B’s e-mail also led to more thoughts about why and how Wrath and I manage to get along. We have a mutual respect for one another. I also have come to believe that we’re more alike than not or at least cut from similar cloth. We actually want similar end results in people. We want them living up to their full potential, and see the lack of it—not living up to what we were created to be—as a “sin”. That might be either me couching my faith as a form of Christian humanism or me couching humanism in spiritual language. Either way, I see it as a logical extension of my faith to move outward and be a blessing to others. I believe that faith or any truth claim is only as real as I see it lived out in the proclaimers life. In other words, is how you are anything that I’m interested in being? Because if it’s not, and if my life isn’t anything anyone else would be interested in, all of the words in the dictionary isn’t going to convince anyone of the truth of your faith.


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Invisibility

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be invisible? I know that is the fantasy of many a teenage boy, the uses of such a cool superpower pretty much not going much further than a visit to the girls locker room. Yet every day we pass by folks who for all intents and purposes have become invisible: the homeless.

I never realized the secret to invisibility involved becoming homeless, yet so many people seem capable of exercising their power. No one sees them. They may have a sense about them, the same way you could be in a darkened room and know that you weren’t alone. People know when to walk around them or speed out of the way of a possible solicitation of a handout. And their sphere of influence is quite large. I have found that if you stop to talk to a homeless person, you disappear also.

I was told once that if you hunt deer, you don’t look for the deer themselves, but rather you train your eye to look for movement. Some evidence of presence. The same could be said for finding some of the homeless youth in our city. You look for what doesn’t belong, for example, wearing long sleeve shirts on an 80 degree evening. Why? Because it gets cool under bridges even at night. Or you might see someone dressed nicely but their shoes may be duct taped. Or you may see young people with conspicuous backpacks. Again, nothing particularly telling until you realize that some people need to carry all of their earthly belongings at all times.

There’s a perception that these kids want to be out on the streets, that they are there because they are lazy or are there strictly as the result of their choices. The reality is that most want to transition out of the streets; that they were let down, if not abandoned, by the system.

Nothing definitive, only clues to a greater story, once you know what to look for. If you bother looking at all. Otherwise, they remain invisible.


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1985 – A Review

"Age of Innocence"

Written by: Mark Millar
Art by: Tommy Lee Edwards
Published by: Marvel Comics

The 80s were such a boom decade for comics, one which many of us fondly look back upon as the good old days of comic book collecting. It was a more innocent time. Comics were all of 60 cents an issue when I started collecting. Many titles experienced creative resurgences: X-Men, The New Teen Titans, Swamp Thing, Daredevil, Secret Wars (ushering in the age of stunt marketing and company-wide cross-overs).

In 1986, Frank Miller gave us The Dark Knight Returns and Alan Moore began Watchmen. So yes, that year holds special significance to the avid comic book collector. It was when the medium grew up, when comics got darker. So 1985 was the last year comic books were … fun.

The comic book 1985 is told through the eyes of Toby, a young boy who collects comic books. Toby comes from a broken home, caught between his divorced parents. He’s also a young boy many comic book collectors can relate to. He spends his days lost in his fantasy world, imagining what it would be like to be a superhero. His mom rips up his comic books (or in my case, burning and throwing them out). He’s often distracted from school work (I’m not saying my grades necessarily suffered). He has a 20 book a month habit (hey, someone had to buy Dazzler. A twenty book a month habit cost $12 back then, as opposed to $79.80 now)

Now we’re writing the books. Mark Millar brings us 1985, a book with a simple conceit: what if, in 1985, a group of villains burst into our universe.

“I guess I wanted to believe in Spider-Man because my mom and dad had let me down as much as Santa Claus.” –Toby

The book tends to bring out the nostalgia in long time comic book readers. In 1985, comic books, and the essence of what it meant to be a hero, seemed more pure. Comic books have taken a rather dark turn in the last couple of decades, wanting to be gritty and relevant. Part of this era of “being real” and dark involves the deconstruction of the myth of the iconic hero. We love heroes, but it’s like we hate the example they set so we have to prove that they are no better than us. We constantly compare ourselves to one another anyway, but it’s as if we are trying to find a kind of redemption by trying to show that everyone, especially our heroes, has feet of clay.

And this book got me to thinking about what draws us to the idea of super-heroes. As we look around our culture, we find that we don’t have many heroes; in fact, we live in the age of the anti-hero. Heroes ought to offer hope, the possibility of what we could be. They are meant to inspire us to use our giftedness to be a blessing to the world. To find meaning and purpose in the mythic adventure we call life. Which isn’t to say that there aren’t intriguing tales to be told with anti-heroes, or within shades of gray, just that those aren’t the only stories – we don’t need to keep tearing down heroes in order to tell them.

In a way, 1985 reminded me of a previous mini-series, Marvels, where the beginning of the age of super-heroes is told from a human perspective. 1985 is fun for any reader, but the attention to detail by artist Tommy Lee Edwards is its own joy. You will be transported by to the year and be thankful for it.


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Dead of Night: Devil Slayer – A Review

"One Foot in Hell"

Written by: Brian Keene
Art by: Chris Samnee
Published by: Marvel Max

There are three Garth Ennis-es. The bad (like when he wrote Goddess), the mediocre (you know when he’s walking through a book, like with Ghost Rider or Midnighter), and the great (Preacher, Hitman, or the fun he’s having on The Boys) And he was truly at home writing war comics, like with Enemy Ace, Unknown Soldier, and War Story. And it was Garth Ennis in his war story mode (with a hint of Preacher) that I thought of when I started reading Devil Slayer.

I didn’t know what to expect of Devil Slayer given the cover and my unfamiliarity with the character. I also suspect that it wouldn’t matter: this seems to be the re-working of a B-list character so revamped that he barely resembles the original (so beware both of you Devil Slayer purists). As its writer Brian Keene (The Rising, Terminal, Kill Whitey) explained in his IGN interview:

The original Devil-Slayer (Eric Simon Payne) was a Vietnam veteran, mob hitman, and occult assassin who eventually became a member of the Defenders. He was psychic and had a magic cape that allowed him to travel to other dimensions and carry around an unlimited cache of weapons. He was to demons what the Punisher is to organized crime. The new Devil-Slayer is Danny Sylva, an American soldier on his third tour of duty in Iraq. He has no super powers or magic clothing. In fact, he's got a good bit of disdain for superheroes in general (as well as everything else—he's a young man who's lost his trust and faith in just about everything). So yeah, this is an all new incarnation. Same name, but different character.

Here’s what we get in the first issue of the introduction to the character: character and the war in Iraq. Danny Sylva returns to the frontlines for another tour after a failed bid at returning to a normal life Stateside. And the story reads like the beginning to a really good war story. Just don’t get married to the idea of this remaining “just” a really good war story.

Keene’s strength lies in his dialogue, breakneck pacing, and his ability to create relatable characters (and he manages to namedrop his friends, though there was no Private Broaddus to be found!). Here, the plot has a more leisurely pace (setting up the big reveal at the end) so the book moves like the initial ascent of a rollercoaster, building tension and atmosphere.

Miles Ochse: “So what do you believe in?”
Danny Sylva: “I don’t know anymore …”

Faith is a tenuous then, fragile and strong at the same time. Many of us are barely a stone’s throw from where Danny Sylva finds himself, his faith laid waste by war and circumstances, failed love, disappointment, frustrations, the realities of life. Even as he declares “Don’t rely on God. Just rely on me,” he finds that his faith in himself also fails.

Faith is also a difficult journey, one where we’re simply called to hang on, persevere, and push through the walls we sometimes hit. That journey inward that happens, typically signaled by when God feels especially absent or at least silent.

“If praying works for you, go for it. It’s just never worked for me.” –Sgt. Danny Sylva

True faith is not without hardships, nor is it all that pragmatic. So when problems arise, there are no pat answers. There are no steps. It sucks. The key is to endure it and hold on, even if you are reduced to simply trusting in the few things you know with absolute clarity.

At the end, or at least once one gets through their dark night of the soul/their crisis of faith, they still may not have the answers, but they may be able to make peace with that. Maybe they’ll be in a place, a journey outward, where this time of shattering reflection causes one to turn outward in focus. These times of crisis will either break us and cause us to abandon God or break us down and draw us nearer to Him. We, as a community of believers, need to be there for each other.

Though Devil Slayer is a grittier work, Chris Samnee makes great use of shadow to convey mood and he has some of the most expressive faces I’ve seen in a while. The sheer … normality of the scenes heightens the moments the story goes off the rails. Once again, Brian Keene bleeds or his readers, drawing on personal experience and demons (hopefully long slain … but never as slain as they should be). The story is lean, firmly entrenching us in the character of Danny Sylva and introducing us to his figurative demons. I can’t wait for the literal ones to appear.


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Legends of the Mountain State 2 - NOW AVAILABLE!

(And now, the official press release)

Even though the 2008 Halloween season is just beginning to commence, a new book of spooky tales is already getting enormous attention from readers of suspense, horror, and the macabre.

This book portrays more of the mysterious, bizarre and spine-tingling Mountain State tales and legends that have been passed down over the centuries. The title is Legends Of The Mountain State 2: More Ghostly Tales From The State Of West Virginia, with a foreword written by Gov. Joe Manchin, III.

But don’t be misled by the title of this anthology ... although all stories are based on known ghosts and legends of West Virginia, every fan of horror, ghost stories, and dark fiction will love this project. In fact, legendary horror writer Joe R. Lansdale had this to say:

“Hardboiled, Southern Gothic. I loved it. It’s lean and mean and it doesn’t care if you like it, which is what makes me like it all the better. Written with a razor on the back of a dead bloated redneck cracker down by the river side, the mountains in view, this is one excellent read.”

Like its predecessor—Legends of the Mountain State [which was released on Halloween 2007]—this unique anthology offers thirteen additional accounts of ghostly manifestations, mythology and mayhem, based on legends from West Virginia. Rural ghost sightings and stories of the macabre take center stage with this release by Woodland Press, LLC, an independent book-publishing firm located in Chapmanville, WV.

Noted horror writer/editor Michael Knost, a native of Logan, WV, returns as the anthology’s editor, and writers for this volume are an amalgamation of nationally respected authors in the horror, science fiction and fantasy fields, including Gary A. Braunbeck, Mark Justice, Bob Freeman, Lucy A. Snyder, Nate Kenyon, Steven L. Shrewsbury, Michael Laimo, Maurice Broaddus (here’s a review of my story), Brian J. Hatcher, Mary SanGiovanni, Jonathan Maberry, Rob Darnell and Nate Southard.

“This is a book that uniquely promotes the rich folklore and storytelling tradition of our Mountain State,” says Keith Davis, CEO of Woodland Press. “Readers went crazy over the first installment. Actually, Legends of the Mountain State remains the number one ghost tale book in the Mountain State. This fresh, new release builds upon its predecessor’s monumental success. We believe Legends of the Mountain State 2 will also appeal to readers outside the state’s borders. West Virginia has more than its share of ghost stories, legends and peculiar oddities.”

The Legends Of The Mountain State series is available at www.woodlandpress.com or at the Horror-Mall.


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Dexter (Season Two) – A Review

The main question going into the second season of Dexter was whether it could build on its central conceit or would it get crushed under the weight of its novelty. Michael C. Hall continues to bring authenticity and complexity as Dexter, our hero/serial killer, cast from the same endearing and charming mold as Mr. Ripley or Dr. Lecter.

The tension arises from two intriguing story arcs. One, his grisly handiwork has been unearthed and it is apparent that a serial killer of killers is on the loose. Suddenly there are two different portrayals of him: he’s either the Dark Defender, avenger of the innocent and protector of the greater good (because who among us hasn’t wished to do to criminals what they’ve done to us?) vs. the Bay Harbor Butcher, just another serial killer (because murder is still murder—a crime in need of investigating—and victims are still victims no matter how bad their sins of the past).

“I’m not the person I’m supposed to be. It’s like I’m hollow. I hide in plain sight, unable to reach out to people close to me. Afraid I’ll hurt them like I’ve hurt so many others.” –Dexter

The central thrust of his character development for the season: coming to terms with himself as either a hero or a monster, saint or sinner. As such, the other story arc involves Dexter in Narcotics Anonymous as he comes to terms with his addiction. He falls in lock step with his unconventional sponsor, Lila (Jaime Murray), who seems to understand his inner darkness. And he slowly starts to get to the root of his issues and moves to come to terms with the idea of re-defining himself outside of his “need.” And there’s something morbidly amusing about Dexter being on his way to being a self-realized sociopath.

Sometimes when we look in the mirror and are honest with ourselves, we may not like the person we see. But being honest with ourselves assumes seeing ourselves honestly and we’re too quick to see in black and white, either heroes in our own story of the villains. As is true most of the time, the truth is somewhere in between. This is true even in how we see ourselves spiritually and can infect the Gospel message.

“You decide who you are, who you want to be, and you hold onto that. And ride it out.” –Deb (Jennifer Carpenter)

The emphasis is on man’s “natural condition,” our fallen state that we’re born into and we see ourselves as slaves to sin. In so doing this points to God’s divine grace in saving us. It’s a Gospel message that begins with “the Fall,” but I can’t help but wonder that if the story begins with humans as sinners, it fails to deal with the “why would God care about us?”

With humanity created in the image of God and declared “good”, as image-bearers, we have inherent worth. The Fall becomes about not living up to that potential, what we were created to be. There are no short cuts or formulas to becoming the person we are meant to be.

“I’ve passed through the flames and risen from the ashes. Again. I’ve never been one to put much weight into the idea of a higher power, but if I didn’t know better, I’d have to believe that some force wants me to keep doing what I’m doing.” –Dexter

Thick with atmosphere, mixed with dark humor, Dexter continues its brand of rich and engrossing story-telling. This kind of show can’t run forever, but as long as Dexter keeps reinventing itself, it will continue to be Showtime’s best series.


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A Story for My Boys: Magic Dad

So I was chastised early today for spending too much time on the computer. Apparently my eldest, Reese, sat next to me singing “you’re not listening to me, you’re not listening to me, you’re not listening to me…” until I responded. (In my defense, it has taken me years of training and discipline to tune out the chatter and noise produced by my two boys in order to concentrate on anything).

Anyway, Reese decided (with Malcolm playing the Amen corner role) that since I was writing, the least I could do was write a story for them, involving them. Reese immediately declared himself the editor and illustrator of the project, and decided that this was a strictly for the love project (despite my emancipation proclamation). Here’s what we have:
Magic Dad: "Who do you love more?"


Page one:
One day, Magic Dad relaxed on the couch watching television. That was the secret way that Magic Dad recharged his powers.

Magic Dad had two sons, Malcolm and Reese, who suddenly rushed into the room as if they had been racing.

Page two:
"Can we ask you a question, dad?" Reese asked. He looked at Malcolm who nodded excitedly.

"Sure," Magic Dad said, always suspicious when his boys looked like they were up to something.

Page three:
"Who do you love more: me or Malcolm?"

The two boys looked up at him, both with big smiles, trying to look as good as possible.

Page four:
The question caught Magic Dad by surprise. He sat up in his couch, thought about this tricky question for a minute, and then smiled. "I don't know, I have a lot of people to love and only one heart to do it with. Let's see."

Page five:
So Magic Dad reached into his chest and pulled out his heart. It looked like a giant Valentine's Day heart. The boys both grinned.

Page six:
"How do you do that?" Malcolm asked.

"I'm a Dad. We're magic," Magic Dad said.

Page seven:
"So this is my heart. Here's a piece for you," he tore off a small corner of his heart and gave it to Malcolm.

"And here's a piece for you," he gave a piece to Reese.

Page eight:
Each child looked at the small piece of Magic Dad's heart. They both looked kind of disappointed.

"Aren't you happy with what you have?" Magic Dad asked.

Page nine:
"No," said Reese.

"It's so small," said Malcolm.

Page ten:
"You're right, but I only have one heart and I have to share it with a lot of people. What about Mommy?"

Magic Mommy peeked into the room from the kitchen. One of Magic Dad's other powers was getting out of having to clean up after dinner.

Page eleven:
"She should get a big piece," Reese said.

"She can have my piece!" Malcolm said.

Page twelve:
"You're both so good. I'll give this piece to Mommy." Magic Dad put the last piece on the coffee table for Magic Mommy. "There that's all of it."

Page thirteen:
"That still doesn't seem like very much," Reese said, looking at Magic Mommy's piece, then at his piece, then at Malcolm's piece.

"Don't you need a heart to keep going?" asked Malcolm.

Page fourteen:
"You're both right. And I've given away all of my heart," Magic Dad said. "How about if I do this?"

Magic Dad blew up each piece of his heart until each piece became a full sized heart.

Page fifteen:
"There," he said, "now each of you gets all of my heart."

Both the boys took their pieces and studied at all of the hearts. They were all the same size.

Page sixteen:
"Quick, hand them back to me," Magic Dad said.

He stuffed all three hearts back into his chest.

"That's how I keep going: by giving all of my heart to each of you."

Page seventeen:
Reese and Malcolm finally understood that their Magic Dad loved them both equally and with his whole heart, so they went off to play.

Page eighteen:
"What did you think, Magic Mommy?" Magic Dad said.

Page nineteen:
"I think that you had better get another heart." Magic Mommy patted her belly.*

Page twenty:
[Shocked picture of Magic Dad]


*This is not some sort of bizarre way for me to announce a surprise (we've had this scare before), it was just the only ending I could come up with on the spur of the moment. Once again, I'll point out, Magic Mommy has had her tubes tied, so should that ending come true, I'll have to take it up with Magic Deity.


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To Dream Egyptian Dreams

“Are they the ones with toilet paper on them?”

With that, the Broaddus clan began our trip to the Indianapolis Museum of Art for their “To Live Forever” exhibit. The idea of mummies has always fascinated me. Seeking the answers to questions about life after death produced a veritable death culture. So much of their life and thought devoted to their burial, funeral, and tombs, seeing death as an enemy which could be beaten (and to achieve success in an afterlife) with enough preparation. Their god Osiris, with his story of death and resurrection, foreshadows the Christian story that I believe in. All to fulfill a desire for eternal life for which they are remembered some 4000 years later.

As we studied the coffins, jewelry, vessels, and saw a lot of statues and figurines with curiously smashed away noses, I had to translate what my Egyptian funeral might look like to my six year old.

“It’s the equivalent of being buried in a tomb that looked like Jesus, though daddy would prefer to be stuffed and mounted in the backyard posed like Buddy Jesus. My internal organs could be cremated and put into jewelry to be sold to friends and family, amulets to protect them on their journey. Mommy would have to be buried with me. There would be no point in her going on without me.”

“What about us?” My youngest looked up with hopeful eyes.

“You’re boys. You inherit my kingdom. Now my staff (heretofore known as Team Broaddus) would get buried with me. On the plus side, they’d get nice commemorative statues of themselves. Our cat? He gets mummified to, though that doesn’t explain why he ran away. And I’d need to have a huge tomb, filled with cups and plates, so that we can keep the party going forever.

“By the way, instead of papyrus scrolls, we’d have the entirety of my blog preserved. Of course it will be dug up one day and used as the basis of a religion. After they smash the nose of any statue of me.”


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The Cleaner – A Review

“Mistakes are the portals of discovery.” –James Joyce

I think I like the idea of The Cleaner than I like the actual show. In the idea, we have Benjamin Bratt (never quite finding the proper show to anchor after he left Law & Order) portrays William “The Cleaner” Banks, an extreme interventionist. Based on the true story of drug addict who turned his life around after making a pact with God, the show is Intervention meets Mission: Impossible.

The intense, severe, though thoroughly committed William leads a ragtag group of compatriots: Akani Cuesta (Battlestar Galactica’s Grace Park), Arnie (Esteban Powell), and Mickey Efros (Gil Bellows). William struggles to balance out the calling of his mission with his family life: his not-too-long-ago estranged wife (Amy Price-Francis), his striving-to-be-perfect-as-a-means-of-control daughter (Liliana Mumy), and his obligatory-petulant-teen son (Brett DelBuono).

“You came to me. I pulled you out of your miserable dead end lives … people find us because they need us.” –William

And with its similar mission of the week, The Equalizer, I mean, The Cleaner bogs down. The show has a sense of gravitas, but not the tools to convey it effectively. The level of dialogue is strictly by the numbers, letting the situations provide the spark. Arnie is the only real, fleshed out character. Everyone else feels like a contrivance, a means to a plot end. Even William sometimes, with his conversations with God being the equivalent of thought balloons in comic books.

“I put my trust in you, my faith, and I’m not even a religious man. This whole arrangement is based on my lack of religion, so where does that leave us?” –William

We can’t save everyone. People caught up in self-destructive patterns and addictions. People suffer relapses as they try to claw their way out of holes they’ve fallen into. There is a high mortality rate to those caught in the throes of drug addiction. Drug addiction is sometimes argued to be a victimless crime (other than to the user). Yet, as The Cleaner repeatedly points out, drug use and the behavior attendant to it impacts the relationships of those around the user.

Relationships are the most important things to us and define who we are. In the process, they also can cause us the most pain as well as cause us to seek redemption. But how do you save people who don’t want to be saved? Who aren’t ready to be healed? Who aren’t ready for a cleaner?

“Trying to keep an open mind … this doesn’t even come close to making sense. I mean, you tell me how you justify this one. You tell me how to find the reason why.” –William

Many people depend on a “higher power” for strength to overcome their addictions. William made a deal with God to be His … avenging angel. William’s constant struggle revolves around trying to figure out how to do His work, especially in the face of so much failure. He’s spiritual, operating without the perceived obstacles of religion, but his spirituality still bumps up against life and his many, many questions. He employs a version of practicing the presence of God, being in constant prayer by talking to Him.

“What is it we were put on this earth for?” –William

In The Cleaner, we have a picture of how Christ often deals with us. He gets into the mess of our lives, willing to walk with us because he has once walked the same path himself. He accepts us, understands us, props us back up for us to keep walking. Knowing that most times we're going to fall down again. And at the same time, we need to be agents of that cleaning.

As part of living out the mission he was called to do, William pours his life into a few. People we could call disciples who are committed to the mission. William also knows exactly who he is and what he was called to do. The more you know about yourself, the easier it is to accept others where they are, no matter the state they find themselves in. Ironically enough, in fulfilling the mission, or the working out of one’s faith, do he may find the answers to his whys.

This marks A&E’s first original drama in six years as it attempts to build on the branding it hoped to established by airing re-runs of The Sopranos. The Cleaner has its share of profanity (we’re all the way up to the s-bomb as being “edgy”), but profanity alone doesn’t give a show edge. Better dialogue and more interesting characters do that. Strictly as a procedural, the show demonstrates signs of life that needs to be capitalized upon. The show is compelling despite its faults. Hopefully it will find its proper balance.


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