My next story...

So I finished reading Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince and I left excited but expectant for the climax of the series. It reminded me why I love fantasy and, even more, why I've got to finish the book that I've written and write the other story bouncing around in my head.

As I previously mentioned, six months ago I had to face facts and accept that I simply could not write a book, build my house, start a business, work a full-time job and be a husband and father all at the same time without going insane. So I shelved my writing with the promise that I would pick it up when my life became a little more calm.

But that doesn't mean I've stopped thinking about my stories. On the contrary, I can't stop thinking about them. Whatever I go through, positive or negative, it seems to spawn a story. Even things as mundane as my job or arguments with friends have become huge plots in my mind. I'm not tell you this to make myself sound creative or anything, it's just the way I am; I understand things and express myself best through stories.

The few people who have read my first book (Jack & Hattie) will tell you that it's just a re-telling of me falling in love with Suzanne and the struggles we face as husband and wife, albeit set in an absurd fantasy world. This was entirely unintentional, but after they pointed it out I entirely agree. Suzanne is all over that book.

I haven't even looked at Jack & Hattie in months but I really want to finish it. I finally understand the story and I need to end it.

But I'm really excited about my next story. It the one that's really stuck in my brain and it seemed to crawl out of my experiences from working in an office environment. It hasn't taken any sort of coherent form but it involves superheros, vampires, werewolves, demons, angels, the apocalypse, and office environments. If you haven't already guessed, it's a story in the spirit of geekhood.

Our house is almost finished and my work situation may soon be changing (you didn't hear that). And just I can't wait to start writing again.

I hope that I don't sound pretentious. I know that I'm not a great writer or anything but I think I'm getting better. Whenever I get discouraged at how lousy I am, I always think back to eleven years ago when I started playing guitar; I stank, I couldn't tell if the thing was in tune or not, I had a hard time pressing down the strings and I didn't even understand one bit of music theory. But it was simply a joy to hold a guitar in my hands. I couldn't get enough of strumming the strings and playing E minor over and over again. I even loved the smell of the wood. Now I'm playing stuff that I only dreamed of playing eleven years ago. But I had to be a lousy guitarist before I could be a good one.

Again, I'm not bragging but I think that's where I'm at with writing. It's just a joy to sit down and write a story, lousy or not. And I think I'm getting better.

How about you all? Did any of you have a desire to do something that at first seemed impossible or just too hard, but you couldn't stop because you enjoyed it so much? Was it playing an instrument? Or playing a sport? I'd be interested to hear.

And thanks for enduring my navel-gazing. I just couldn't bear to write another post about movie trailers.

It's official, the Wachowskis have lost it

Remember The Matrix? Remember how cool it was, all that gravity-defying judo, wild plot twists and Biblical allusions. I really enjoyed that movie.

Then remember the sequels? How all of a sudden Morpheus was a dork. Neo was a dork. Trinity was a dorkess... and -- actually every character became a dork in those movies. Remember that chill-inspiring love scene between Trinity and Neo intercut with that bizarrely stupid post-apocalyptic rave in what apparently passes for church in Zion. Didn't it seem like they were making the plot up as they went along?

And how about the end, huh? Where Neo (after Trinity randomly bites the dust, negating Neo's saving her life in Reloaded) sacrifices himself to defeat Agent Smith. And the machines, after soundly kicking humanity's rear-end all over Zion, decide to not slaughter everyone and call a truce. Pardon me but I don't see how the good guys came out on top!

Imagine if Return of the Jedi ended with The Emperor killing Luke but deciding to whimsically let the portion of the rebels that he hadn't slaughtered live. Pretty lame, huh? But that's the direction that the Wachowskis Bros. decided to take The Matrix. The only phrase that comes to mind is, what we're they thinking?

But Levi, you might say, The Matrix is so last-year. Sure they sucked but that's all in the past. Why gripe about it now?

Ah, Dear Reader, I will answer your question. I'm annoyed because I just saw the trailer for the latest Wachowski-penned film: the strangely Dr. Suess-esque titled V for Vendetta . (And U is for Unicorn, children.)

Now once again I find myself questioning the judgment of the Wachowskis bros. Let me ask you do you think it's a good idea to make a movie where:

1. The hero looks like the result of a sick breeding between Zorro and Bozzo The Clown? Do they honestly expect us to take this dork seriously?


2. The plot centers around a black-clad hero fighting oppression by a totalitarian force. (Hmm, why does that sound so familiar? Wait! Wasn't that the plot of the last three films by the Wachowskis?)


3. And lastly, why make a film where a TERRORIST is the hero? Okay I know you guys hate George Bush and all but you're committing career suicide. Considering current events -- hundreds of innocent men, woman and children dying at the hands of terrorists every month -- do you really think that Jane and Joe American are really going to show up for a film and root for a terrorist?

Come on guys, you're just embarrassing yourself now. You should've stopped with The Matrix and let everyone think that you were geniuses and didn't just get lucky and accidentally make a good film.

I'm looking forward to this one...

The trailer for Mirrormask is online. It's looks weird but great.

Batman: Year One

I've never been a huge Batman fan. His stories had some high points but they definitely came from the darker end of comic book lore, which I've never been drawn to.

Comics have always been for me a vision of how I wanted to the world to be as a kid and to some degree as an adult. Superheros like Superman and Spiderman had an optimistic and bright outlook on the world that I still identify with. They were the antithesis of their enemies; there was no mistaking who stood for good and who stood for evil. They didn't compromise their principles no matter how hard the situation. (Superman always refused to kill his enemies, no matter what they did to him.)

Batman on the other hand was an odd bird, no pun intended. For decades he had the same happy-go-lucky feel as Superman and the other DC comics of the period. (This was perfectly captured in the Adam West Batman.) But as the 80s came around Batman began to get darker and darker and his stories more and more disturbing. The much-praised series The Dark Knight Returns by Frank Miller repulsed me rather than impressed. I sort of gave up on Batman. His character was too dark and his world too bleak for me to enjoy.

The art of the "classics" of Batman has been defined by Miller (who later went on to create the series Sin City). Miller's art, while undeniably excellent, has always seemed grotesque and disturbing to me and in later years even pornographic. He enjoys taking familiar superhero icons and distorting them.


Above: Frank Miller's Batman, not my cup 'o tea.

Therefore, my expectations were low when I happened to pick up Batman: Year One while browsing through Borders. I expected the usual, hopeless and disturbing story complete with disgusting images that stick in your brain like ticks. (Then why did I pick it up you might wonder? Beats me.) But I was wrong.

The art immediately had me floored:



Year One was illustrated by David Mazzucchelli and, unlike Frank Miller, Mazzucchelli's art seemed to be depicting real people rather than distortions of people. Each character was drawn with an obvious affection and care and the lines were simple and clean.

The story is excellent too: One plot thread focuses on a young Commissioner Gordan when he first gets transferred to Gotham City, which is controlled by corrupt politicians and crime-lords. Gordan's marriage to his very-pregnant wife is struggling and he's having something of a fling with a co-worker. He's a very well-conceived character: An on-the-level cop trying to do what's right in a corrupt police force and a man who loves his wife but is just spending too much time on his job and hurting his marriage because of it.

Menwhile, a young pre-Batman Bruce Wayne (clearly inpired by Gregory Peck) has just returned from abroad and sees the crime rampant in his hometown and is trying to figure out how to fight it.



Usually Batman is ridiculously invincible; he never gets hit by bullets and never messes up. But not here.


In Year One when Bruce Wayne puts on the tights for the first time he is a novice and, though talented, he doesn't always get it right. It's engaging to watch his first fumbling escapades as Batman where he often screws up and makes mistakes. It gave me a sympathy for the character that I'd never had.

The overall plot is how Commissioner Gordan and Batman end up working together and they way it plays out is exciting and even touching. It's a story set in the dark side of the real world but unlike other Batman segas, justice and the desire to do what's right is what drives the characters.

It reminded me of why we have this strange fantasy of superheros. We want to read stories about justice and fighting the good fight. When we look at superheros we see reflections of the good in ourselves and our dreams of who we could be.

It's hard to see the battle between good and evil in our everyday lives, but it's there. When we pull over to help someone change their tire, visit someone in the hospital and work hard for our families we're striking a blow for good. Comics books, in their less-than-subtle way, remind us that there is a fight.

Enough of the mushy stuff. Go read Batman: Year One and you won't be disappointed. It definately revived my interest in the character.

Funny cartoon

From the vastly under-appreciated indie christian cartoonist, Kevin Frank. Wow, a lot of adjectives.

Legends of the attractive lead star...

So I think Legends of the Fall sucks. I remeber I started the film and I immediately hated every stinkin' character -- especially Brad Pitt. After a half-hour I turned it off, so maybe I missed out on an amazing save of a film, where after 35 minutes everyone suddenly becomes sympathetic and likable and a script magically transforms into good. I doubt it though.

I guess not enough people share my low opinion of the film because they just re-released the film as a special edition DVD. I'm sure there's hours of interviews with the actors explaining the film ("My character's really angry...") like we haven't seen the darn thing. But I did notice one odd thing about the re-release cover:

I present for your consideration, the original cover:


Can you spot the difference with the re-release:


Apparently the powers that be cannot abide a film cover where Brad Pitt is not casting a wanton gaze out into the potential purchacer's eyes. "Take me home with you..." it says. "I know it's not a very good movie but now there's Special Features... And I'm much more attractive on this cover... Love me..."

Does anyone else find this silly?

Church on Sunday...

It's funny how in this country we take Church for granted. There's, more-or-less, one on every corner. Many Americans seem to attend like they attend a social group: Moving from church to church on various whims. Screwtape (the devil from The Screwtape Letters) goes so far as to say:

One of our greatest allies at present is the Church itself. Do not misunderstand me. I do not mean the Church as we see her spread out through all time and space and rooted in eternity, terrible as an army with banners. That, I confess, is a spectacle which makes our boldest tempters uneasy. But fortunately that is quite invisible to these humans. All your patient sees is the half-finished, sham Gothic erection on the new building estate. When he goes inside, he sees the local grocer with rather an oily expression on his face bustling up to offer him one shiny little book containing a liturgy which neither of them understands, and one shabby little book containing corrupt texts of a number of religious lyrics, mostly bad, and in very small print. When he gets to his pew and looks round him he sees just that selection of his neighbors whom he has hitherto avoided. You want to lean pretty heavily on those neighbors. Make his mind flit to and fro between an express like "the body of Christ" and the actual faces in the next pew.

And I'm sorry to admit that I sometimes fall right in line with Screwtape's strategy.

But then there's some days when the simple Sunday gathering is transfigured in almost a -- for definite lack of a better word -- magical sense. Certainly mystical.

When the body of Christ is gathered together we can begin to see things as they are. People who I normally would dismiss without a second glance are revealed as vibrant, powerful creatures. Words that I've heard countless times are suddenly piercing. The world is upside-down or rather I've stepped into a place that is right-side-up. And it's like dunking my muddled head into a bucket of cool water. I stop seeing "the local grocer with rather an oily expression on his face" and begin to see citizens in the kingdom of heaven.

I've begun to understand why the Church is so misunderstood by the world. They see us exactly how Screwtape would have them see us. They can't see us for what we are.

Anyhow, please pardon my poorly-articulated Christian rambling. Next up: Brad Pitt's improved Legend's Of The Fall look.

A few pre-weekend observations

You probably haven't heard Peter Gabriel's strange album OVO: The Millennium Show Soundtrack. It don't even think that it's available in the US.

As far as Peter Gabriel goes, it's pretty uneven. For reasons unknown he employs other vocalists to sing most of the male parts in all the songs. Pardon the sports-related analogy, but isn't that like bringing in Brian Skinner to shoot free-throws when Peja Stojakovic is available?

Nonetheless, there's some stunningly beautiful music here. And true to Gabriel form it's thick -- full of layers.

Take for example the song, "Make Tomorrow".

I love the first verse of this song, which seems to be about renewing love in a marriage.


Put on the dress in which you were married
Pull down the veil til your eyes are hid
Can you remember where we both came from
Let us do as we did

So many days since I was with you
So many nights I've slept alone
So many barriers grown in between us
Let us be as we were once


*snif*

---

In other news...

I narrowly avoided dying yesterday, twice.

The first instance came in my company's restroom. Like all living humans must do, I was doing my duty in a stall and I happened to glance up at the latch.

"That's an odd angle for the latch to be at," I mused and thought nothing more of it.

It was only after I was done that I realized that the reason for the latch's odd angle was that I had forgot to lock the darn thing! If someone had opened the door on me I would've literally died like the witch in the wizard of OZ. I would've melted into the floor screaming, leaving a huge problem for HR to explain.

I'm very grateful to God that he saw fit to not include that sort of death in my destiny. And that he kept anyone from opening the door on me.

My second brush with death came on the ride home.

There was some road work going on and the traffic workers had us stopped to wait our turn to go. Pretty standard stuff so I didn't think anything about it and soon they flipped the "Stop" sign to "Slow" and motioned for us to go.

I was only as I neared the other end of the traffic control zone that something seemed amiss. The guy or girl at the other end usually regards the traffic exiting the construction zone with a cool disinterest but now this wasn't the case. This guy with an orange vest was almost dancing with excitement and making frantic motions pointing to the other lane.

"weird," I thought. "Do they want us to slow down?"

I would've left it at that but then I noticed the large pickup truck headed straight for me, in my lane. Then it clicked: The dorks had directed us into oncoming traffic. Crud.

I had to pull an action-movie-esque maneuver (at least it felt like it) into the other lane and the oncoming pickup had to slam on his breaks and pull onto the shoulder. All the while I'm sure the road worker had a look on his face like, "Aye caramba! Why did I set this up like this?"

Anyway, I'm happy to be alive and, Cal-Trans, next time please think a little bit before you almost kill your customers.

Snazzy new little feature...

If you direct your attention to your right you can view snippits from the latest posts on culturezoo's other blog. The one that's about a bit more serious stuff that some of you might find interesting. Purely FYI.

What a great country

As always, it was a wonderful 4th of July. We met with my dad's side of the family for poker, great barbecue ribs and fireworks.

My Dad's side of the family (the Nunninks) are about the nicest group of people that you can possibly get together in one location. I think that they abused eachother so much as children that they're making up for by being extremely kind to eachother in adulthood. Honestly, I think that they'd rather chop off a finger than be rude to a sibling.

As the evening wore on we all went for a walk through the neighborhood. Our walk took us to the top of a huge hill, looking out over the town. It looked so picturesque, like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. You could hear fireworks in the streets.

It reminded me how much I love this country, all its problems aside. America is such a beautiful place. Not just natural beauty but the beauty of gathering with family. Of a small town where neighbors smile and wave. Of being free and able to live how we all want to live.

I'm very grateful to my country and God for giving me a place like this. I don't see how it could really get better.

Book Tag

I'm finally responding to your tag, Sadie. I hope you're feeling better by the way. I can personally testify as to what a bummer this flu is.

Total # of Books Owned:
I'm not really sure on this one. I enjoy shopping for books as much as a teenage girl enjoys shopping for clothes, so I guess the answer is: A lot.



Last Book I Bought:
The Song of Susannah, Book 6 in The Dark Tower series. I wrote a post about it.


The Last Book I Read:
The last book I actually finished was Coraline by Neil Gaiman and I loved it. Thinking that there might actually be something to the hype surrounding "America's best new storyteller", I ran to the library and checked out Stardust. After about 5 chapters I ended up putting it down disappointed. I just couldn't get into it. I hate hype.

Five Books with Special Meaning to Me:


I've got to echo Sadie on this one and put The Bible at number one. And I'm not just giving Bible props because I'd be a lame Christian if I didn't -- The Bible truly has changed my life and continues to make it better. When my thoughts are confused and messed up (which happens more often then some might think) opening the Bible and reading is like stepping into a cool pool of water.


Number two would have to be The Chronicles of Narnia. CS Lewis wrote these books with such a effortless imagination and style. They still stir my spirit and awaken my sense of wonder. And The Last Battle brings me pretty close to tears. (Strong... men... also... cry...)


Coming in at number three: The Lord of the Rings. My rabid devouring of these books has dropped off some in recent years but when I younger I couldn't get enough of Elves, Valar, Silmarils, Numenor, Morgoth, Etc. And if you're thinking, "Hey, none of that was in the movies!" to you I say: "Darn, right!" We true fans know all about that stuff.


Book 4 is a tie of two author's bodies of theological works:

Francis Schaeffer's writings have greatly helped me to understand state of the world around me from a Christian perspective. His historical and biblical knowledge along with his insight on philosophical trends is astounding. He's not the most literary fellow and his books can be dense reading but they're a gold mine of wisdom. I highly recommend, How Should We Then Live? The Rise and Decline of Western Thought and Culture

On the other hand the writings of CS Lewis have greatly helped me to understand the world inside me and the world of Heaven. The joy of living as a Christian drips from Lewis' books, along with frank moments of despair (A Grief Observed). But the more you read of his writings you find that Lewis lived with his eyes fixed on Heaven and the glory to come. He's also -- unlike Shaeffer -- very literary and his works are lovely to read. I highly recommend: The Weight of Glory and The Great Divorce. (Oddly enough, Mere Christianity is not one of my favorites by Lewis. Nothing against it, I've just enjoyed other works of his more.)


Finally at five, I'd have to go with The Princess Bride. This may strike some people as a weird one but I think this is one of the best books I've ever read.

Time to hand out the tags:
David Floyd at Do you know the muffin man.
Ian at... One of his blogs
Paul Legge at The Fish Bowl