The Pontifications of Maurice Broaddus

Ugly Betty (Season One) – A Review

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Thu, 15 May 2008 06:08:00 +0000

“It’s all about appearance.” –Daniel

Ugly Betty was one of those shows I was late on the bandwagon about (read: I played catch up during the writer’s strike). Produced by Salma Hayek, this is an adaptation of a popular telenovela for stateside viewing.

“I can’t walk in there looking like me.” –Betty

Self-consciously unfashionable Betty Suarez had a dream of working for a fashion magazine. Through a series of events, magazine mogul Bradford Meade (Alan Dale) has just turned Mode over to his playboy son, Daniel (Eric Mabius), who quickly finds himself in over his head. Betty ends up getting hired as an assistant (so that Daniel wouldn’t be tempted to sleep with his assistant). With Betty being so constantly sweet and wise, America Ferrera saves the show from her character’s earnestness. Her own beauty hidden behind braces, bad hair, and bushy eyebrows, she charms us with this fish out of water tale.

Our over the top hero, too adorable, too good, too endearing, is buoyed by her family and persecuted by her co-workers, often finding herself in the inadvertent crosshairs of her equally over the top villainess boss, Vanessa Williams. Playing wicked step-mother to Betty’s Cinderella, Williams’ Wilhelmina Slater would be a hammy performance in lesser hands.

“They have a way of taking the truth, twisting it around. We always have to protect ourselves. Twist it around ourselves if we need to.” –Daniel

The American culture has an unnatural predilection with beauty, usually missing the point of what true beauty is. We have reduced beauty to surface matters, not thinking twice about being retouched, computer enhanced, reimagined through surgery in order to achieve the makeover of our false selves. We’ve reduced beauty to that with is merely pretty, setting cruel standards (impossible thinness and youth), the endless pursuit of which changes us and our definitions of beauty.

“Then maybe your concept of what’s beautiful is a little narrow.” –Betty
There is truth and goodness in beauty, one that we recognize without having to be told (much less needing it plastered all over magazine covers). Beauty should touch a primal chord within us, captivate us, and spur us to adoration, even worship. I’m reminded of what Rich Vincent said in his article The Beauty of Holiness – The Holiness of Beauty:

To worship is to experience and express divine beauty. When we participate in beauty we come into the presence of the Holy. All the beauty found in nature and human art reflects God’s glory and shows us something about God. Therefore, “Whenever we awaken beauty, we are helping to make God present in the world.” Conversely, “those who destroy the beauty of God’s creation or who create ugliness may be sinning against the Holy Spirit.”

Sometimes it takes a spiritual eye, a discerning eye, to truly appreciate beauty. A spiritual perception of glory, the loveliness of holiness, and the preciousness of grace ... all the things that come with being created in God’s image. All beauty reflects its source, namely, God. When we experience beauty, we experience God. When we create beauty, we reveal God to others. Or as Rich put it:

To know God is know beauty; to know beauty is to know God. Just as God is the source of all truth and goodness, God is also the source of all beauty. God is the Supreme Artist – the Creator of all. Thus, everything that is beautiful reflects God’s artistry. Indeed, God is Beauty itself.

Ugly Betty has a campy quality to it, much like the telenovelas Betty’s father, Ignatio (Tony Plana) watches. While the cast of characters are little more than a collection of stereotypes, they are humanized by solid performances. The show careens unevenly during the course of the season, as if the show wasn’t confident about itself (Daniel alone seems to undergo several personality changes over the run of episodes). However, juggling romance and mystery, the writer’s may not be used to painting in broad strokes. The show, and Betty in particular, grow on you to the point of overlooking its few missteps.

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Green Arrow/Black Canary

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Wed, 14 May 2008 06:28:00 +0000

“Arrow Family Values”

Written by: Judd WInnick
Art by: Cliff Chiang
Published by: DC Comics

Allow me to rant for just a moment. I hate it when comic book companies decide to do publicity stunts rather than rely on solid writing to bolster sales. The debacle that was the phone in vote that lead to the death of Robin many years ago. The death of Superman. The more recent death of Captain America. Breaking the trend of death stunts came Spider-Man’s One Last Day. The real shame is that you don’t have to do this. Not with Green Arrow. This character has an enduring popularity (including his recent stint on Smallville) despite what writers have often done with him.

Green Arrow/Black Canary picks up about a month after the end of the Wedding Special, where Black Canary (Dinah Lance) has to kill a seemingly crazed Green Arrow (Oliver Queen). The ongoing title makes the wedding issue feel even more gimmicky (though the alternative would have been that Oliver Queen was dead. Again.)

Green Arrow is a well developed character with an interesting and varied history; the kind of character that makes any average story more interesting simply by dropping him in the middle of it. From millionaire playboy to crusading idealist, his feet are quite clay-like, as he has been an absent father to his son, Connor Hawke. Green Arrow also has a wide variety of ancillary characters, including Black Canary, Speedy(HIV-positive Mia Dearden), Arsenal (former addict, Roy Harper, Jr – the original Speedy). The dual billing of the title suggests the that the focus of the book will revolve around these two – the Arrow family with Green Arrow and Black Canary as its head.

“I consider this girl my daughter.” –Black Canary

As a society, the two parent, mother and father, model is the best model for structuring a family. However, let’s not confuse it being the best model with being the only model of a family. We often cling to such a narrow definition of family, which is interesting for a culture that values kicking their young out of the nest as soon as possible and shuttling their parents into nursing homes at their earliest convenience. So let’s not pretend we have the final answer on what it means to be a family. Blood alone does not make you family.

While Judd Winnick aims for a whimsical portrayal of the Green Arrow family, the result is something too quip heavy. The banter is quick to go for the easy laugh which creates an atmosphere that lacks the necessary gravitas to pull off the deep emotional chord pulling he attempts every other issue (from the presumed death of husband/father figure to the near death of son). When he’s not doing near constant joking, Winnick pulls out non-stop action so that no one has time to think about their feelings.

I don’t have faith that Winnick knows what he’s doing with Green Arrow’s character. Each issue feels like a reboot, or at least has an abrupt change in direction and tone. I’m also not a fan of Cliff Chiang's too cartoony art, though it probably fits with Winnick’s all over the map writing. I just want more from this book and these characters and I’m waiting for DC to quit betting on Winnick.

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Episode 11: Wired for Relationships

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Tue, 13 May 2008 12:45:00 +0000

I've been interviewed for the JustLife.Tv podcast. It's a project that's in the beginning stages, but I've been privy to the grand plan and I can't wait to see take off.

Here is the Episode Synopsis:

In this episode we talk about friendship and the impact it has in a marriage context. Maurice Broaddus brought a unique spin to the conversation. We talked about the tug and pull in friendship, what we want in a friendship, and how we develop a friendship over time.

Click to go to Episode 11: Wired for Relationships

And they may be having me back to rant about "Friendship and Technology." Be looking for that sometime in June.

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Battle of the Nitwits

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Mon, 12 May 2008 10:46:00 +0000

As I read far too many author blogs, one of the things that continues to bug me is how many spend time arguing with nitwits. To be clear, I’m defining nitwit as a particular kind of Internet troll who spends their time endlessly sniping at a target or otherwise running their yap in a state of self-importance/attention whoring. True, true, this defines most message board interactions, but the nitwits tend to focus on a primary target and fixate.

I’ve had my share of nitwits (fairly insulting blogs, e-mails, letters, phone calls, and message board threads dedicated to me included in the prize package) and answering their charges is simply not worth my time. I don’t care (as long as they link to me). Seriously, the first thing I ask is “who are they?” because while I don’t mind constructive criticism, not every critic is equally worth hearing from.

It’s fairly common for the newbie writer to seek to establish themselves by going after a few easy targets, whoever the perceived bad boy is (in the horror community, Nick Mamatas and Brian Keene are popular targets). These would be iconoclasts may rationalize their behavior by declaring that they simply won’t put up with the behavior of an unprofessional martinet or what have you, but it’s so regular a practice that I’ve taken to calling this the Brian Keene effect. Since the theory is that you make a name for yourselves by going after someone bigger, not smaller, take heart in the fact that you’re a target.

They know you, they read you. That’s not a relationship you’re obligated to reciprocate. People have a right to free speech, buy you are under no obligation to be given a platform in your house. The Internet is a big place, so let them go start their own blog/message board and run things their way. You don’t need to expend energy validating their opinions or otherwise giving them a platform. If you feel that their comments rise to the level of slander or harassment or threat, that’s why God created police and lawyers. Not taking up your blog space.

Unfortunately, sometimes nitwits can take over a forum. It’s funny how it takes only 2-3 prominent voices to seemingly poison a whole community. That will happen if they are allowed to dominate discussion. They can change character of board by simply posting so often they become the face of the message board. So, sometimes folks have to be asked to leave for the health of a board. It can seem unfair or even arbitrary but “you talk too much and spew little of value” can be just as abusive to folks’ sensibilities.

(To prevent this, whoever has the “vision” for said board needs to be a main voice on the board either through themselves or via their mods. In a lot of ways, the vision/voice is the main draw to the message board, which means that their mods need to not only grasp that vision, but also have the necessary people and communication skills to facilitate the discussions. Not let the nitwits run amuck.)

In the end, arguing with a nitwit only reduces you. Oh, I know it’s hard to not swing back and crush them. Lord knows, I know. Think of it this way: you swinging back at them is a no lose situation for them. Suddenly you are bringing your audience to them and when it’s the strong (read) versus the weak (not read), you are the bully. You don’t want to let the nitwits drive you to being unprofessional. And there is no reason I need to know who the members of the legion of nitwits are because you keep giving them air time. Notice none of mine were mentioned by name. Or linked to. And the Internet is a better place for it.

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Friday Night Date Place – Cutting the Apron Strings

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Fri, 09 May 2008 04:41:00 +0000

One of the hardest things to do in our transition from child to adult is to establish an adult relationship with our parents. Life with our parents is an evolution of power: we come into the world completely dependent on them (and our parents know EVERYTHING); we start to make noises of independence and doing things our way (and our parents know NOTHING); and then we start to brave the world by ourselves (and our parents know SOME things after all).

Now that I’m a parent, it’s easier for me to look at things from a parent’s perspective. Like most parents, I worry about what kind of men they are going to be and how best to train them to be the kind of men they ought to be. It will be hard to let go of them, to get to that stage where I stop worrying, to stop thinking of them as my kid and let them be the adults they are one day supposed to be.

I changed their diapers, I wiped their noses, I kissed their boo-boos. I have planned for them, I’ve answered their (endless) questions, I’ve guided them. I’ve sacrificed for them and provided for them. Do I expect anything in return? Heck yeah, I want a payoff of my investment. I want them to become fully functional adults, prepared to go into the world and find their own way.

In other words, at some point you have to move out.

(In fact, now that my kids can tell time, I’m going to stick a counter on my blog as a continual reminder.)

Now, I’m not exactly sinless to cast any stones in this area. If someone wants to keep running after me to give me free stuff, I’m going to let them. However, at some point, certain ties had to be cut (right around the time I had to establish my own family and myself as the head of it, coincidently enough). And it was a painful transition period for me and my parents (read: mom). But it had to be done in order 1) for me to establish the direction for my own family, 2) for me to be seen as an independent adult by myself, 3) for me to be seen as an independent adult by those around me, and 4) to be seen as an independent adult by my parents.

You can’t keep living in your mother’s basement. Or your friend’s mother’s basement. Or otherwise sponging off people in your life because you don’t want to stand on your own two feet. I don’t know what it is about our generation, but a lot of us are taking longer and longer to, well, grow up. Maybe it’s because we haven’t had to. Previous generations have had Depressions and wars to define them, forcing them to grow up sooner. We’ve had MTv. But I’m strictly speculating.

Did I mention that at some point you have to move out?

I haven’t even gotten to the most practical lesson of cutting the apron strings. Control. Nothing is ever truly free. You think you get to live in a basement rent free? You think you get to borrow your parents’ car whenever you want, no charge? You need a temporary influx of cash, gratis? Besides being generally thought of as a loser by your friends, you have also given up control in your life. You are under a certain amount of obligation to live by their rules (their house, their roof, their rules). Each loan is another string attached to you. Call them “guilt lines” or “advance pay day guilt loans” and they will be pulled or cashed in.

Cutting the apron strings is a rite of passage, one that can be relatively painless (despite the occasional bout of empty nest syndrome) or messy (when folks finally have to kick you out). It’s best to take the reins of your own life and carve out your own direction, no matter how many bowls of ramen noodles you have to eat in the process.

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Humanist Quandry

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Thu, 08 May 2008 07:07:00 +0000

Every now and then, I’m prone to thought experiments. It’s an attempt to relate to other perspectives as a lens to examine my own thinking. Most times it eventuates in intellectual naval gazing, but I have time to kill. This one started as a way to be less judgmental of people.

I’m quick to glance at a person’s life and pronounce “how can you call yourself a Christian?” I’m quick to rationalize such a pronouncement under the heading “I’m as hard on them as I am on myself”, since even a cursory glance at my own life makes me shudder anytime someone describes me as a Christian. So I’ve been allowing the grace of “where would they be if they weren’t a Christian to temper my thoughts/judgments.

(Including with myself: a friend of mine, an agnostic, thanked “whoever I’m suppose to thank” that I was a Christian, otherwise, I’d be the fifth horseman. He went on to describe me, in love mind you, as a wolf in sheep’s clothing, which was an odd bit of spiritual truth when you take Christ as the Lamb in question).

So now I'm coming at this from the perspective of my belief of how I'd be without religion. So let’s say that I've removed religion from my worldview lens (note: I HAVEN'T. THIS IS A THOUGHT EXPERIMENT), what would be the ramifications of a humanist worldview for me? Basically, I’m trying to think of why I’d want to be a “good” person and the lofty idea of "for the betterment of mankind" isn't cutting it, so I'm going to need some of the ideas fleshed out a bit.

The quandary of my little thought experiment is that as problematic as faith in God can be, I have no faith in humanity (other than my faith in our ability to use any idea—race, religion, nation—as a weapon/destructive force).

For the humanists in the house, would you describe yourself as a humanist (with the idea of a belief in humanity and its ability to progress as a whole) or an individualist (meaning that you believe in yourself, the power of the individual, with enough individuals empowering themselves humanity progresses - which may take us into Ayn Rand territory)?

And then, two more questions, one on an individual level one on a social level:

-how would a humanist philosophy attempt to shape and form me as an individual? I understand do not steal, murder, lie, rape as universals in order to run a society; but for me as an individual, how would it address an idea like "greed" or what would be the motivation to be loving?

-on a social level, how would this shape social mores? Even an idea like monogamy or being married til death do us part, seems like things we've decided to buy into, but don't—humanistically—have a good reason to do.

[I’m in a real questioning mood. There’s an ongoing conversation on the message board about how would atheists react if God was incontrovertibly proved and on the flip side, for Christians, what if the resurrection was incontrovertibly proved to have never happened. All merely thought experiments, but the discussion’s been interesting.]

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Iron Man - A Review

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Wed, 07 May 2008 14:20:00 +0000

“Making of a Hero”
“One Man’s Legacy”

“Peace. I love peace. I’d be out of a job with peace.” –Tony

From the previews alone, you had a sense that Iron Man was going to be a different sort of comic book adaptation. The cast alone told me that the creators were playing for keeps: Robert Downey, Jr. (Tony Stark/Iron Man), Terrence Howard (Jim Rhodes). Gwyneth Paltrow (Virginia “Pepper” Potts). Jeff Bridges (Obadiah Stane/Iron Monger). Samuel L. Jackson (Nick Fury--stay through the ending credits). Directed by Jon Favreau (Hogan). Even if you had no sense for who this super hero was, there was an inherent intrigue about this movie.

Tony Stark is a different sort of potential superhero. Visionary, genius, handsome, billionaire, winner of the lottery of life, he’s a modern day Renaissance man and playboy, the kind of man who has a deployable stripper pole in his private plane. Though there have been other millionaire super-heroes (Batman, Green Arrow, Blue Beetle – how else can they afford all of those cool toys), Tony Stark is truly a man who “has everything and nothing”: no core, no substance, and no one to share his life with. He battles his demons from budding alcoholism to living in the shadow of his father to the specter of corporate greed to his inability to develop meaningful relationships (he’s so narcissistic that whether he’s talking to a model or the technology around him, he’s really just talking to himself).

During a trip to Afghanistan to demonstrate his latest high tech weapons for sale, he’s captured by terrorists and mortally wounded in the process. His method of escape sets the stage for his alter ego.

Even in the comic book, the character of Tony Stark always struck me as a little one note and smarmy and the producers cast the right guy to play him. The story of Stark’s fall and redemption curiously echoes the tale of the actor portraying him, Robert Downey, Jr. He has wrestled with his own share of personal demons and finds himself on a comeback from the professional and personal brink. Despite being fast talking, glib, slick, and rehearsed, Downey, Jr makes these qualities charming, but also manages to humanizes the character.

“It’s an imperfect world, but it’s the only one we’ve got.” –Tony

The typical (super) hero origin story arc follows a simple trajectory: the first half of the movie is spent establishing the everyman (think Tobey Maguire in Spider-Man, Bruce Banner in the Hulk or Matt Murdock in Daredevil) with the second half of the movie spent in big budget effects proving that said man can climb walls, smash big things, or kung fu his way through armies of men (to the point where there’s no point in asking if so-and-so can play the hero, such as the endless Batman debates, but rather can they play the alter ego).

Like all great heroes, Tony Stark has an epiphany moment, that time when he re-evaluates his life. As the leading designer and dealer of weapons, the bulk of his father’s fortune, the empire he inherited and expanded, was built on war profiteering. Selling the sticks in a “he who has the biggest sticks keeps the peace” world, the movie quickly becomes a commentary on how easily “our” sticks fall into the hands we wouldn’t want. No supervillains per se, but rather facing off against corporate greed and terrorism, from all of the double dealing (passing around sticks).

“I shouldn’t be alive unless it’s for a reason.” –Tony

All heroes need a crossroads, or end of self, moment: when he looks in the mirror and realizes that he isn’t where he was meant to be, not doing what he was meant to do, not living how he was meant to live. Tony’s brush with death forces him to not only re-evaluate his life’s purpose and direction, but also to contemplate what his legacy will be.

“There is the next mission and nothing else.” –Tony

The movie, quite literally, is about the making of a hero. Like Batman Begins, it is more about the journey to establish the path of the new hero than a typical “spandex” string of fight scenes masquerading as a plot (see Spider-Man 3). First, the hero has to realize the system we are trapped in: the “empire,” with its values and its control and order, this social and governmental impotence easily steered by corruption and greed. Next the hero has to figure out their identity. What it means to be human, in his case, what it means to be Tony Stark. Then the hero has to define their mission, in his case, what it means to be Iron Man. At this point, the hero’s life becomes one of continual mission as they hones their gifts and work with their strengths and talents to fulfill that mission.

Tony: “Thank you for saving me.”
Yinsen (Shaun Toub): “Don’t waste your life.”

Funny and taut, Iron Man moves at a good clip, slickly re-telling his origin. It’s not the kind of super hero movie one might expect, especially if you’re thinking all there is to it is putting on the costume and getting to iron butt kicking. The move is both modern and relevant (and full of nerd moments: Jarvis, the X-Men’s Blackbird reference, S.H.I.E.L.D., the terrorist group calling itself the “ten rings” a la the Mandarin, not to mention the after the credits allusion).

I’m going to have to revisit my top ten favorite comic book adaptations list, though I’ll probably wait until the end of the summer considering that Wanted, The Dark Night, The Incredible Hulk, and Hellboy 2 are all coming out.

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Bingo Day - Racism Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Wed, 07 May 2008 10:26:00 +0000

Thanks to Nick Mamatas for pointing me to thewhich only reminded me of the Bingo from the BlackFolks LiveJournal community

And today's not even militant Monday. Carry on.

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Yes We Can

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Tue, 06 May 2008 11:12:00 +0000

For once, the Indiana primaries--and by proxy, my vote--may mean something. Usually by this point in the election cycle, the candidates for the two major parties have already been decided and, frankly, whatever school board election going on usually isn’t enough to drive folks to the polls in May.

This year it’ll be a little different. Senators Obama and Rodham-Clinton continue to duke it out for the Democratic nomination. This translates into actual presidential nominee campaign stops in our fair state. Suddenly, we’re relevant.

One of the last times we were relevant was in 1968 when Senator Robert Kennedy was campaigning for the presidency in. During his visit to Indianapolis, he had to break the news that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. had been assassinated.

Living in Indiana, you kind of take a few things as de riguer. Our screwed up time zones, our love of basketball (despite the state of the Pacers), and our primaries not counting for much. It’s a shame that we get inured to the fact that most times we are kind of left out of the process.

As a nation, we love oppositional politics just as much as we love being cynical about politics. Cynical me believes that whenever the party of the Presidency and Congress are the same, we get a little nervous. However, let’s face it: the differences between the parties aren’t much. The parties are more about consolidating their own power and beating the “other” guys than any real agenda. On the flip side, we “survived” President Clinton, we “survived” President Bush. We “survived” a Democrat-ruled Congress. We “survived” a Republican-ruled Congress.

Not-so-cynical me believes that we can actually make a difference in the primaries this year for the first time in a long time. I’m still hoping for an election that will raise the level of debate in the country, one that will woo us with ideas, no matter how controversial. I don’t want to see a repeat of elections of yesteryear, where pragmatic politicians throw out some platitudes, count on electoral disinterest, and rally their most faithful. That’s the sure route to mediocre leadership. Then again, we get the leaders we deserve.

We’re ready for change.

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Author Interview: Weston Ochse

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Mon, 05 May 2008 05:31:00 +0000

I've been friends with Weston Ochse for a few years now and it's always great (in a "I hate you" sort of way) to watch your friends blow up. Luckily, he still remembers who I am. His novel, Scarecrow Gods, won the Bram Stoker Award for Superior Achievement in First Novel, and is about to be re-released as a trade paperback by Delirium Books. All of this made for a great excuse for me to pester him with a few questions.

Continued on the FearZone.

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Friday Night Date Place – Perfection: Give up the Dream

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Fri, 02 May 2008 18:04:00 +0000

I’ve written before about how we should accept people as they are and quit dating folks with the idea of remaking them into the image of what we think we want. Today I’d like to write about an idea tangential (if not flipside) to that: the quest of perfection.

We all want to be accepted for who we are, find that person who accepts us, and allows us to be real. Authentic. The fact of the matter is that sometimes who you are is an idiot. Seriously. Just this side of brain damaged. So socially inept, it’s a wonder you can function in civilized society. I’m not throwing stones: I’ve embraced the reality that I’m not perfect (I’ve even gone so far as to embrace the fact that my imperfection can only further my wife’s holiness as she learns to love me anyway).

To recap, we have the need to accept people balanced against the need to face the reality that you aren’t perfect so there are some things you have to change or areas you need to grow in. The other tension in this equation, and the actual topic I wanted to write about, are those who endlessly chase perfect acceptance.

"The best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person will still think the sun shines out your ass. That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with." - Juno

Even discounting the blinders that come with falling for someone, I encounter all sort of folks for whom my natural reaction is “I can accept you as you are. I just wish you weren’t so … ‘you’ some of the time.” There are folks who want the former without the latter. Somehow they have it twisted in their head that a good relationship means in order for their relationship to work, they need to be accepted just as they are, with no expectations for change. Or growth.

They define acceptance as a full embrace of who you are and what you do when reality says that I may begrudgingly put up with you and wish parts of you would change. There is a big difference between accepted and being put up with, and sometime that difference is the measure of reality. I wonder if part of their misconception lies in the belief that if they aren’t perfectly accepted, they are merely being put up with. Tolerated.

Now, what I call putting up with, since I know the torments I regularly put my wife through, I see as part of the reality of the accommodation of relationships. Unless you manage to find Mr./Ms. Perfect you will continue to be frustrated unless you realize that perfect acceptance, perfection period, doesn’t exist. If you are like a child who only wants constant affirmation (“Everything you do is wonderful”) or else you think something is wrong in the relationship, or if you think the blinders that come when two people first start dating (“Everything you do is wonderful”) are meant to last the entire length of your relationship, then you have some issues you need to work out.

Probably starting with accepting yourself. You have quirks. Because the unreality of romance and faultlessness eventually wears off and people will recognize your act and who you are. The real and authentic you. “You have some aspects to you I flat out don’t like. I love you anyway.” That is the kind of acceptance we should want. A quest for anything else will leave you in constant quest, moving from relationship to ultimately dissatisfying relationship. You may have to face the fact that you have areas that you need to work on (and, in fact, you running from relationship to relationship is simply you avoiding dealing with your issues).

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My Donuts Bring Me to the Yard

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Thu, 01 May 2008 23:27:00 +0000

My donut costs 65 cents.

Though you could probably care less about me and my love of donuts, allow me to put this more in context. For the last couple of months, I nurtured a simple morning ritual: I break for a mid-morning snack around six in the morning, take myself down to Marsh, and I treat myself to a donut. The cashiers smile at me, I drop two quarters in their hand, and I go about my day.

Then last month I dropped two quarters in my cashier’s hand and she looked up and said “they’re now 65 cents.”

That’s a 30 per cent increase. For my donut. Did no one think that we’d notice?

We’ve always had pretty low gas prices, especially consider prices some are paying in other parts of the globe. We’re just now passing the (inflation adjusted) gas prices highs of 1981. Let’s face it, oil is not a renewable resource, yet from 1975 until now, fuel efficiency has improved little more than about 10 miles per gallon. Thirty years of technological advancement has only eked out an extra 10 miles per gallon. We need to be developing alternatives, seriously pursuing other technology, but we’re short-term thinkers, so we don’t unless we absolutely have to.

I wanted to take a family vacation, a nice drive down to Atlanta to visit some friends. I remember canceling this same trip last year when gas prices jumped to $3.50 or so. This year, the trip might be possible, but only in light of serious cutbacks in other areas of our life.

And the cost of my donut went up 30%. I don’t think you feel me.

We, as a nation, have had to drive our minivans less, car pool more, and take mass transit more. We had to cut back spending in other areas. What happens when things I can’t live without, things I can’t cut back on, go up? Bread, milk, eggs … 30% adds up quickly as the transportation costs of getting our products to us get passed along. At what point does the economy finally grind to a halt.

I have to start cutting back somewhere. But I'm going to miss my donuts.

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Thu, 01 May 2008 01:01:00 +0000

Call into work. Take off from school. Let church bells ring. Let angelic choirs sing. Let flags fly at full staff. Today culminates another Happy Gestation Period! (<--Um, new readers may not want to click the madness of that blog entry. Heck, older readers have only just now repressed the memory of that one. You’ve been warned.)

My mom took her funny pills this week. I received a birthday card from her and she knows I have a … tendency … to open cards in such a way to allow the contents to fall out. So she put in a dollar, just to get my hopes up and dash them (with a note that read “what’s left of your inheritance”).

I went into work early so that I could essentially take today off. So I spent the day (re-)reading The Imago Sequence and editing my urban fantasy novel. I suppose I ought to thank Facebook and MySpace: I have been deluged with birthday greetings this year. Thank you all for your kind remembrances. Between the cards, phone calls, and random drop ins, it’s been a full day. As I type, my house is full. Surrounded by friends and family, I can’t think of a better way to spend my day.

And Happy Birthday fellow horror scribes Brian Knight and John C. Hay.

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Bob Freeman is Nuts

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 19:32:00 +0000

So I am going through my normal procrastination ritual of reading some of the hundred or so blogs I’m subscribed to, when I run across Bob Freeman’s blog entry on how he blogs. It’s a question folks like Bob and I get from time to time that I know quite a few folks wrestle with: how do you blog?

I blog just like Bob.

Except completely different.

God bless the writers who can just sit down to a blank page, completely unintimidated, with just an idea, and just start writing, because I couldn't do that. I need a map, some sort of guide even if it’s just a rough sketch to keep me somewhat on point (or at least make sure I reach a point). It’s not always the case, but I bet you can tell when I don’t at least sketch out my thoughts first, else they pretty much stay the same half thought out idea they began with (this blog began with “Bob is nuts”).

Does blogging take away from my real writing time? No, blogging is PART of my real writing time. I understand what the asker is aiming at. The time I spend blogging is time that I could be working on a novel or a short story or an article, and that’s quite true. But it is still writing (and one day I’m going to calculate just how many words a year I generate in blogging alone and compare that with my “actual” writing output).

I blog on a variety of topics, mostly just whatever I’m thinking about at the time and I publish them in a variety of venues (Indy.Com, Blogging in Black, Hollywood Jesus) for greater exposure and because if I can make money by my writing I most certainly will (heck, I’ve even sold ad space on some of my older blog entries). But I can’t write the way Bob does.

My blog mentors, whether they realized it or not, were/are Nick Mamatas, Brian Keene, and Lauren David (she hates it when I point out that I began blogging as a weird sort of competition with her), thus the weird mix of topics. My blog is my professional face, often the first thing prospective editors and agents look at when they visit my site. I also blog with a distant eye on one day bundling up various blog posts and packaging them as non-fiction book proposals.

But I like I tell folks, there’s no hard and fast rule to this. Half the time I envy those folks who can sit down and write because (and this is my issue) I see them as more authentically artistic. The other half of the time, I wonder if they’re the same folks who talk about their works in progress in the blogs saying things like “I had to cut out 20K of words that didn’t work”. And then I thank God for my map (he says knowing that he's about to sit down to re-work his first novel to cut 40K out of it because, like a typical guy, he didn't stop to ask directions when he got lost).

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Who Cares What They Think

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Mon, 28 Apr 2008 15:41:00 +0000

Do you know what a highlight is for me as a blogger, as a writer period? When something I write generates thought or good conversation. After my last Blogging in Black column, I received the following comment:

Hi Maurice, Dealing specifically with the comment "(and many of us live with the insecurity of fearing that we’ll one day be exposed as the frauds we secretly believe we are)". I haven't ever had this problem. Sometimes I think that I should; that the lack of this insecurity is proof of a) inflated sense of self and/or b) willful blindness to reality. But, one of the reasons I didn't study English literature in uni after having done it for A-levels/college and have no desire to do an MFA, is that I have a serious problem with the quality pronouncements of the 'They' of the literary world.

Continued on Blogging on Black.

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Creative Space Summer – A P.S.

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Sun, 27 Apr 2008 00:22:00 +0000

One of the things we say we're about is being a missional church. Being missional can take on many different ways of being lived out. Sometimes they will be ministry opportunities within the Dwelling Place. Sometimes it will be service opportunities with neighbors or otherwise reaching out to our neighborhood. Sometimes it will be partnering with groups who don't necessarily claim the Christian story. My co-leader in the Big Kids Class has become a one woman idea factory. I just got this e-mail after telling her about my Creative Space Summers idea/experiment:

Hey Friends,

In thinking about the arts program for this summer and even craft stuff for Sunday school, I’ve been trying to think of ways to use the arts/crafts. In the book I have been reading, “Jesus for President,” Shane Claiborne tells how their church practices the resurrection by taking old “dead” things and uses them, like using an old fridge for a compost bin or planting flowers in old toilets (that grosses me out). He also talks about how they see making beauty where there was nothing or ugliness is practicing resurrection….bringing life to the dead around us. SO…I was wondering if we could pray and talk about ways to use the arts program to bless not just the kids, but the community.

Amber makes cards. She said she is willing to teach a class on how to make these really cool cards. Now, here is the question…who could the kids bless with the cards? The homeless? Outreach kids or workers?

[He Who Would Be Head Pastor], I wanted you to be in on this email so you know what kind of stuff is going through my mind. See what you have done to me?!? Actually, I feel more like I am practicing the presence of Jesus in my life now then in all the years of Awana, VBS, and a myriad of other activities combined. Thanks to all of you! Cindy P.S. Another “marginalized” group we could bless with our artsy craftsy kids stuff is the people in nursing homes. When my mom was dying, we were told over and over again by hospice care how blessed she was to have us…her family. They said there are so many people out there dying alone.

Like I said, it's an ongoing experiment, but I love it when people take up the reins and fill out what being missional means rather than waiting for the "leaders" to do the imagining for them. He Who Would Be Head Pastor sent the following note to her:

Hey, I am all for you - keep dreaming and thinking big - I have a real heart for these things as well. This actually fits well with the series we are doing. I am trying to give people a bigger theology and a bigger understanding of the gospel than 'Jesus just comes to save your guilty ass and forgive you' to more of a wholistic understanding that God is healing the entire cosmos - he will not just wad this wicked earth up and throw it away, but he will redeem, reconcile, renovate, restore what he originally made and and and and he invites us to partner with Him in the healing of the cosmos. All these social justice issues that fundamentalits pushed to the side because they were to busy 'winning souls' are now very central to the gospel when we understand a big gospel that includes even the healing of the globe. I pray that God continues to stir your heart with these things and together we can do our part and partner with God. What a great and glorious calling - could there be anything better in the world than to partner with the Creator in bringing about His glorious end for all things when He will eventually fill everything with His presence. I look forward to partnering with you and God in bringing about His redemptive purposes in our time and place.

Sometimes I love this job.

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Out of Patience for Politics

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Thu, 24 Apr 2008 23:12:00 +0000

I know, I've got to quit wading into politics, but I’ve about had it with the shenanigans of Senator Hillary Rodham-Clinton and her camp.

This is the first time in a while that I’ve not only paid keen attention to the primary (as opposed to my cursory interest in the horse race the media tends to depict it as). We have an opportunity for a completely fresh slate, no incumbent running, no vice-president running as heir apparent. While the Republican question is settled, since my vote is still up for grabs, I am still interested in what the other side of the aisle has to offer.

And I’m seeing too much politics as usual.

You would think the prospect of either a woman or a black presidential candidate as nominee for a major party would be historic enough. It’d be great to see this campaign as a battle of ideals, ideas, and messages of hope.

Senator Barack Obama has invigorated this election cycle, if only as an outsider with limited beltway experience/taint. What I don’t want to see, Senator Rodham-Clinton, is more business as usual as the alternative. If you want to chew each other up before the real election in the Fall, well, I guess that’s between you and your strategists.

I understand that win-at-any-cost politics while maintaining plausible deniability is the legacy of President William Jefferson Clinton. Veiled racism is a new color to your palette. I wonder just how many Geraldine Ferraros/taking the black voters for granted/ left-wing paternalists are in your camp: working alongside us, in seeming support, until one of us gets a little too uppity and needs to be put back in our place.

Don’t think we don’t know coded language when we hear it. We’ve been tacitly demonized as boogeymen of welfare and crime long enough to know it when we hear it. Just like we recognize someone willing to come into the hood when they need something, only to flee back to the suburbs once they’ve gotten it.

So, Senator Rodham-Clinton, I expect more from any potential leader of this country. I’m tired of having to choose between the lesser of two evils. Do better.

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Creative Space Summers

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Thu, 24 Apr 2008 00:10:00 +0000

I refer to most things that go on at the Dwelling Place (heck, the Dwelling Place itself) as an ongoing experiment. This is because when it comes to starting a ministry or running with an idea, well, you can’t be afraid to fail. Helping to run the “Big Kids Place” inspired me to tweak a few things about Creative Space.* Now, Creative Space was tweaked last year to incorporate our work with some of the homeless teenagers from Outreach Inc. This summer, since my kids will be home for the summer, and likely driving me nuts (and I mean that in the most deeply spiritual sense), I was trying to figure out what we could do to stretch ourselves creatively and occupy our time. But let me back up.

The Sunday after Easter, instead of having the kids back in our classroom, I had them stay in with the rest of the congregation, in the back. He Who Would Be Head Pastor was doing a sermon examining how the Resurrection changes everything in our lives. I was having the kids draw pictures to describe what the Resurrection means to them. I was so impressed with what they came up with (and what parts of the Resurrection story captured their imagination – without realizing it, they essentially covered all of the stations of the cross). I then spread the pictures along the communion table so that the congregation could have images to think about as they took Communion. With that, I had my inspiration for Creative Space summers.

Basically, we’d have a series of structured projects:

-Collage Art: the kids will interpret themselves through pop culture, using magazines and newspapers to cut out images.

-Art Journal: this is a four week project where they will craft their own journal. This will be a mix of crafts and words as they will take turns describing: 1) themselves 2) their friends 3) their family 4) their beliefs

-StoryTeller Sculptures: will be a two week project where we will sculpt the main story teller in our lives. We will then write a story that the storyteller has told us as well as a story about the story teller.

-Photography week: I’m letting the kids loose with cameras.

-Scrapbook week: we’ll be scrapbooking the images captured the previous week.

-Comic Book weeks: we will be telling a story using pictures (and some of the photos).

I was definitely not encouraged to pursue this by my son’s suddenly taking the arts seriously (and having a piece displayed at his school). On the positive side, this will double as a pilot project for a larger arts ministry that a few of us around the city are working on. And I’m following my own advice: I might as well keep experimenting … my dating life alone inured me to the prospect of failure.

*Not that writers are superstitious or anything, but all of the stories except one that I've written at Creative Space have sold. And my friend and I just finished the first draft of our movie script. So as far as getting actually projects completed, I'd consider that part of the experiment a success.

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We Wear the Mask

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 23:12:00 +0000

“I can’t explain, you would not understand. This is not how I am. I have become comfortably numb.” –Pink Floyd, Comfortably Numb

We put on masks, masks that become part of us, ones we wear in order to interact with others and the world. Before too long, we become trapped by these false ideas of ourselves. These false selves, these lies of who we are and how we see ourselves, start developing when we’re young. How our families shape us, how we let our friends define us, the fronts we put up in order to appeal to potential mates. We may derive our self-worth from what we do, we’re of value because of how we behave or what we have.

And yet some part of us is miserable under this definition of who we are and longs to find a way out from under it.

We come to believe this lie and try to fix it ourselves, essentially creating a self-salvation scheme as we try to re-create ourselves. “I am not”–a man, for example–but “I can be if”I have the right rims, the right car, the right kind of money, the right bling, the right girl, go to the right school, get the right job. “I am not”–where I should be in life–but “I can be if”I have the right job, the right house, the right kind of money, the right family, and live in the right neighborhood.

On one hand, we see ourselves as gods of our own domains, free to live as we choose. On the other hand, we’re trapped by definitions of ourselves that we can’t seem to escape. Part of leading a self-examined life means getting over the fear of facing ourselves. We have to see the obstacles in our lives, realize where we are, then we can overcome it.

Be they problems in your family, addictions, compulsions or bad decision making patterns, we have responsibilities to our lives. We must be diligent. We must strip away anything that hinders us from being the people we were meant to be. We must always be growing, be “becoming”. Start with a few simple questions: What do you want to change about yourself? What do you know needs to be changed in your life?

Think through the issues you need to change, don’t numb yourself to them. Shed the imposter and become fully who you were meant to be.

"Sanctity lies in discovering my true self, moving toward it, and living out of it... While the impostor draws his identity from past achievements, and the adulation of others, the true self claims its identity in its belovedness. We give glory to God simply by being ourselves." –Brennan Manning

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Runaways – A Review

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 00:11:00 +0000

“Dead-End Kids”

Written by: Joss Whedon
Art by: Michael Ryan
Published by: Marvel Comics

Don’t ask me why, but picking up Runaways #25 sent a ripple of trepidation through me, reminding me of the comic book from the 1980s, Power Pack. It was a needless worry. Joss Whedon was born to write teams. Obviously he knows it because he keeps doing it. Buffy and her Scoobies. Team Angel. Serenity. The Astonishing X-Men. These series play to his strengths: the dynamics of interpersonal relationships, distinct voices, the sense of self-discovery. Whedon is all about the character journey which is rather critical in a book completely about characterization and the changes they must go through.

The premise of The Runaways is simple: a group of kids find out their parents are super-villains and run away. Picking up after Brian K. Vaughn’s run, issue #25 marks both a jump on point for new readers and a bit of a departure for older ones. On the run, our intrepid heroes find themselves in Manhattan, preparing to have dinner with the Kingpin of Crime. The dinner wrings out more in terms of introduction to these characters than a slugfest would have. They walk a tenuous line of trying to figure out if they are heroes or villains and the choices they make only continue to murky up those waters.

“She’s not pretending to be a woman; she’s learning to be a human. She’s trying to change. Become better ... She doesn’t fit in, great. Isn’t that what this group is supposed to be all about.” –Karolina

Most super-hero teams are about relationships, a sense of family that comes with the building of a sense of camaraderie and community. This is even more true of teenage heroes as they are at the fun stage of life where they already struggle with issues of self-image (many of them uncomfortable in their own skins), where they fit in the social order (made more complicated by them trying to get out of the shadows of their parents’ villainous history), wrestling with their idea of self-identity, and dealing with feelings of alienation.

Many teenagers find themselves outsiders because they’ve been burned by some community (family, a circle of friends, a church) and are tired of not fitting in, of being rejected, of not being accepted. They put up these “harsh”, abrasive fronts, of the mostly bark/little bite variety, that mask their insecurity. So they adopted this self-defense mechanism: “I am going to make myself an outsider, you’re going to treat me as an outsider, then I’m going to rage against you keeping me on the outside.”

“Regret? It is my meat and drink. My air, my everything. The faces fade, the names get jumbled, but regret … regret never ages.”

People want community, we’re wired for relationships, acceptance, a sense of identity and belonging. The thing is that we don’t often know how to do it or how intensive the work of relationships can prove to be. Some people need to runaway. They find themselves in poisonous circumstances where relationships are toxically entrenched and things could only hope to improve if folks go their separate ways.

Some people are serial runaways. When things get tough, they cut out, running away from their communities and circumstances because they (feel they) have made such a mess of things or burned so many bridges, that they have to leave. There are some positives to be found in this cheating of relationship development: leaving may put them on a different journey, allowing them to grow in different ways, on terms better suited for them. Not only that, but leaving also allows them to re-define themselves and their story so that one day they may be able to return to those communities and be able to say they are truly a different person.

An adroit mix of introspective dialogue and inner turmoil, Whedon sets The Runaways on slow burn which will hopefully lead to a much greater conflict. At least, that’s his typical m.o. That may be the only real criticism of the book: if you are familiar with the Whedon oeuvre, then the rhythms of this book will feel overly déjà vu-esque to you. His explorations of the inner workings of teenage relationships can’t help but evoke his Buffy heyday (and the Kingpin’s appearance reminded me of the Mayor in Buffy season 3).

Be warned: picking up Runaways because Joss Whedon’s name is attached to it will only make you want to go back and pick up the trades of Brian K. Vaughn’s run. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

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The Forbidden Kingdom – A Review

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 05:23:00 +0000

“Lord of the Staff”

I have friends who don’t like movies like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and House of Flying Daggers because they can’t get behind all of the flying kung fu fighters. Somehow they weren’t able to suspend their disbelief for such fighting sequences, however, if one of the protagonists been bitten by a radioactive spider, it would have been all good. In short, movies like Forbidden Kingdom are no different than a super hero movie, except with samurai gear and monk wear instead of spandex.

While it has been advertised as a vehicle that teams Jackie Chan and Jet Li (FOR THE FIRST TIME!!!), there is a plot attached to the movie and it revolves around Jason Tripitikas (Michael Angarano who basically does a Shia LaBeouf (Transformers) imitation as he plays Frodo in this adventure). Bullied Jason goes through the Gate of No Gate as part of his journey to return the divine staff of legend to its rightful owner.

Based on the Chinese epic story 'Journey to the West', The Forbidden Kingdom truly comes to life with Jackie Chan’s appearance and subsequent fight scenes, recalling his Legend of the Drunken Master role. After he shows up, it’s only a matter of time until Jet Li and we get what we paid to see. Granted, this vehicle is something we would have liked to have seen earlier in their respective careers, not when they are both a bit past their prime. They all but don long white, kung fu master beards in this one.

Like all great super hero team ups, there is a fan-demanded battle between the heroes, a misunderstanding, of course. Like all great kung fu movies, there must be a training sequence as our hero manages to learn a lifetime’s worth of kung fu in under a week. This one, however, is filled with laugh out loud moments.

The true story of the movie is the story Jason finds himself in.

“It is their opium.” –Jade Warlord (Collin Chou)

Jason finds himself caught up in the whispers of prophecy, the opium/hope of the people under siege by the ways of the ruling empire. The imperialistic power takes the form of the Jade Army, led by the Jade Warlord. The Jade Warlord is like the spiritual aspect to evil taking on a personal dimension in the form of "the adversary." This evil one is given dominion over the kingdom until the return of their great King.

In the meantime, the Monkey King challenges the reign of the Jade Warlord, his example and disobedience going against the ways of the empire. At one point, the Jade Warlord demanded that the Monkey King bow to him. Their battle seemingly ends with the Monkey King defeated for a time, trapped in stone, awaiting t seeker to find him.

“Go free yourself.” –Monkey King (Jet Li)

What’s interesting to note is that Jason’s quest isn’t for eternal life, the elixir of immortality, but that is a part of what he gains as a part of his journey. His seeking is the point, the end goal unto itself. In some ways, the gospel is analogous to the kung fu training he so desperately wants. It can be had by all, takes many forms, can be found by seekers, adapts to the culture and to circumstance of the seeker, Master and student walking side-by-side (in the way of discipleship) and ultimately, it frees the seekers.

In so pursuing, Jason becomes an instrument of prophecy despite the fact that “He’s not even Chinese.” He, the Silent Monk (Jet Li), the Lu Yan (Jackie Chan), and Golden Sparrow (Yifei Liu) form a band of misfits, yet it is so often how the gospel is carried forth, through flawed vessels. Such counterintuitive ways are how the ways of the empire are subverted. “Vengeance has a way of rebounding upon itself,” the Silent Monk warns. Violence and recrimination continue the cycle of evil, but the honesty of confession and forgiveness break the cycle. The key to defeating evil is truth and reconciliation; the power of forgiveness and love.

To be honest, the fight sequences are sometimes too cartoony. The special effects aren’t exactly seamless and you could practically see the guide wires during some action. When the effects over take the fighting, it robs the specialness of, well, the outlandish violence we come to expect from these movies. We still see flashes of what made these two kung fu movie legends great, in fact, The Forbidden Kingdom may make you want to go out and rent some of their classic movies. Still, it's quite the crowd pleaser of a romp.

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Enjoying a Good Silence

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Wed, 16 Apr 2008 23:10:00 +0000

Our lives are noisy. From the moment we wake up to the blare of our clock radios, to the radio to accompany us to and from work to the television which keeps us company at home to music as a running soundtrack to our lives as we jog or run errands, our lives are filled with constant noise.

When we doing have the noise, the sheer busyness of our schedules, our self identities wrapped up in what we do. Too many of us think that we’re indispensable, that we have to be at our jobs, at every meeting, at every volunteer group or whatever, from sun up to sundown. We run ourselves exhausted, fueled by the certainty that there is not enough time in the day to get everything done. But we try anyway. In being busy for busy’s sake, we fail to realize that much of it boils down to empty activity, ways of hiding from ourselves.

Rather than always running around filling our lives with being busy, maybe we ought to try the underappreciated discipline of learning to be still. Our need for constant diversion fuels both our restlessness and our avoidance as we end up never attending to the things that matter most. Ultimately, we become disconnected from ourselves, God, and each other.

Sometimes we just need to disconnect from the world. Silence is the final reduction, to be completely at rest, in solitude so that internal dialogues can best be had. Oh, we don’t want to. Think of how we punish criminals: it’s one thing to lock them up in their penal communities, but when they are too bad among themselves, we put them in solitary confinement. In the silence, you have the madness of yourself and only your inner junk to deal with. When you have to confront who you are, your fears and your doubts. In this unknowing of ourselves, we are left to deal with the depths of your heart, the emptiness, the loneliness.

But this is a fight that must be waged if you are ever to finally know peace. Times of renewal and reflection, silence and solitude, helps us to cleanse our hearts and listen better.

[This blog would have been a lot shorter had I just written: "Thank God Spring Break is over and my kids are back in school."]

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You Can’t Save Everyone

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 22:50:00 +0000

At three o’clock in the morning, when our phone rings, we have a pretty good idea who it is that’s calling us. We all know folks whose lives s are filled with constant drama, who always find themselves in situations, who always need to be bailed out one way or another. Folks whose tendency towards bad decision making results in consequences that suddenly become your problem.

Their lives follow a familiar pattern: your friend picks the wrong person, and you are left to pick up the pieces. Their temper allows a simple misunderstanding to be blown up into to all manner of new heights. Their work situations are ever untenable, always due to the fault of a boss or some co-worker (never their fault). And this is before we get to the alcohol and drug abuse.

You can’t save everyone, especially folks who aren’t ready to be saved. Folks often don’t recognize themselves as self-destructive, their hard-to-control impulses are merely quirks of theirs that people have to learn to accept because they “keep it real.”

They don’t understand that watching them spiral frustrates friends and those who love them. No one wants to watch people they care about make poor life decisions or hurt themselves and we hate the feeling of powerlessness that comes with ringside seats to their latest drama.

But we also can’t live their lives for them. Sometimes you have to let people make their mistakes, our job is to be there for them, to walk beside them, to help pick up the pieces but not do the sweeping ourselves. You have to know when to distance yourself from them as to not allow their drama to bleed into your life and as to not be the constant maid for their lives.

Some people are their own worst enemies. Granted, some folks attract needy people and like to play the white knight charging to the rescue. It’s always easier to focus on rescuing someone else than dealing with your own life, but you have to do what’s best for both of you. Compassion is good; to drown in their mess is not. Sometimes you have to set boundaries for both of your sakes. Sometimes compassion means helping them find the tools to clean up their own mess. But at three o’clock in the morning, my phone shouldn’t be ringing all the time.

[You know, it's easy to say this, but I already know in my heart that when the phone rings, I'm going to answer it. I know you can't save everyone, especially those who don't want to be saved, but sometimes you just have to keep trying.]

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The Umbrella Academy: Apocalypse Suite - A Review

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 22:47:00 +0000

Written by: Gerard Way Art by: Gabriel Ba Published by: Dark Horse Comics
I had never heard of the rock band My Chemical Romance, so I was unfamiliar with Gerard Way when I picked up The Umbrella Academy. Granted, I’d have been a little wary of a rock star slumming in comics (it’s one thing for novelists or movie makers to do it – forgive my literary snobbishness), even if Way was a former intern at DC Comics.

The big picture of The Umbrella Academy is that some time ago, forty three children were born to mothers who showed no sign of pregnancy. Dr. Reginald Hargreeves adopted as many of these children as he could and formed the Umbrella Academy. Named 1-7, the seven maladjusted children, though trained to used their powers to be heroes, eventually go their separate ways only to reunite upon the death of their mentor in order to save the world.

The only way I can think to describe the book is Grant Morrison (think Animal Man or Doom Patrol Grant Morrison) meets Mike Mignola (Hellboy). There are two reasons for this comparison: the story and the art. Way crams many ideas into his story and characters, from the Eiffel Tower wreaking havoc on Paris, to robot zombies, to an orchestra whose music is literally a symphony of death. And that’s before you get to a super hero team whose every member carries with them the psychological damage of their institutionalized childhood.

In terms of art, Gabriel Ba’s (Casanova) intense and brooding art matches the melancholy that permeates the characters and book. The energy in his panels is like unfettered Mignola, managing to capture the absurdist elements to the story.

The team has moments of greatness and moments of fractured dysfunction in its history. In many ways, it reminds me of the church. Ostensibly its mission is to help people develop their gifts in order to bless mankind; form people into heroes/the way of Jesus. Sometimes this formation occurs despite the institution itself (and its teachers/leaders) as much as sometimes the well-intentioned, but flawed institution can knock people from their course. Some potential heroes become damaged or otherwise fall away from their faith or calling.

It’s difficult to grow through disillusionment with an institution. It’s easy to fall into cynicism. A cynic is a frustrated idealist, with the emptiness they so often experience being a symptom of their inability to let go of their idealism. Most people are idealists at first but there must come a time in everyone’s lives when your ideals and your dreams must be measured against reality; where “what could be” and “what ought to be” is measured against “what is.” The false facades begin to crumble and those things which had been so solid and so true are not able to withstand the crush of practicality. What do we do when this happens? Even the best of people are but flawed vessels, yet flawed vessels are the only kind of person God works through. To quote Miroslav Volf, “I am not a Christian because of the church, but because of the gospel. However, it was only through the broken church that I received the gospel. Because of the gospel, I participate in the church.”

Sometimes the structure of our Umbrella Academies need to be torn down and rebuilt in order to make the necessary changes, to balance reality with ideals. They need to get back to the core of what they were meant to do and be about. This is the beginning of a new adventure, an uncertain time fraught with error and, simply speaking, new mistakes must be made. If there is to be any room for growth one cannot be afraid of their own fallibility. Mistakes mold and shape us if we learn from them. The lessons rarely come easy and at times can be quite frustrating. Heroes take up the challenge.

The ending of the series didn’t quite pull together, wrapping a little too neatly (as if Way had written himself into a corner yet didn’t want to trash any of his precious creations). On the positive side, The Umbrella Academy bubbles with refreshing creativity. A juggernaut of ideas thrown at the reader (and heroes)—both vaguely dark, yet incomplete—with equal parts angst, sadness, and heart.

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A Name Meme

noreply@blogger.com (Maurice Broaddus) — Tue, 08 Apr 2008 17:25:00 +0000

The irony here is that I usually hate memes, however, I was having a discussion with a couple of friends where we were using other friends names as verbs. There are the obvious ones:

Keene – to inadvertently out one of your message board alts by forgetting to log out before you post again.

Mamatized - when you’ve been handed your butt in an online argument, dispute, or otherwise been shown to be just plain wrong about life and thought.

Haringa-d – when you’ve been handed your butt grammar Nazi-style.

Now, granted, this came up after someone said they had Mauriced in public [1) to annoy or otherwise be unnecessarily sarcastic; 2) a semi-drunken verbal rampage that involves being annoying or otherwise overly sarcastic, though usually ending in declarations of love and/or use of a “preacher’s voice”.] So, choosing five friends, I continue the tradition:

Lauren – to become obsessive compulsive about every aspect of your life or routine. Also known as a Ro.

Rolfingsmeyer – to start a project, bubble with a plethora of ideas about it, only to have the idea fizzle by the wayside as yet another project unfinished. (Specifically, this is referred to as a Rob. The Marcia is when one is playing a game of Magic the Gathering and pull a random/unprovoked/illogical attack on a player which results in your demise in the next turn.)

Stephen noises – when a generally quiet person clears their throat in preparation of saying something. This includes the resultant pause in all conversation as everyone awaits the pronouncement.

Harp – to prematurely destroy something you’ve created because it isn’t coming out the way you imagined.

West - to have a teddy bear-like innocent love of all things horror related.

Consider yourselves tagged.

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