Another year has passed and you and I are lucky to be alive. I mean that in both senses. It’s amazing that so many of us made it through 365 more days of the horrifying human condition, and it’s a tremendous privilege to have done so.
I’m pleased to note that we now know where the days go. In Wednesday’s Citizen comics section, Lucky Eddie told Hagar the Horrible they “turn into nights.” As for the years, well, they turn into old-movie special effects of calendar pages flipping, or broken resolutions, or enthusiasms acutely embarrassing in retrospect, like bellbottoms or government-subsidized canals.
A few years back everyone had millennium fever and was listing the great this and the outstanding that of the millennium. Including me. For instance I thought the best spelling of “millennium” was with two “n”s and William the Conqueror was the most significant individual. Continue reading
Ahhhh. It’s Christmas time. Gather round the fire, kids, and listen to Uncle John drone on about the good old days. And plan some more.
For instance, what ever happened to the Christmas tradition of the kid who can’t wait to get his big present out of the box and play with the box? Nowadays the cool stuff is smaller not bigger so you couldn’t fit into the package to play even if you could get the space-age armoured plastic open without pliers, hacksaw and blowtorch that leave lethal sharp edges.
It may be traditional to deplore the decline of tradition. But I also find myself puzzled at how to keep sacrificing meaning to materialism now that kids have so much stuff. Back before I was a boy you had nothing and clung to it. Then on that magic day, Dec. 25, you got another sock and both feet were warm for months. Wow! There’s still some room to thrill even a modern child by finding something they didn’t realize they wanted until they saw it. But less and less just because they have everything. Does anyone out there really anticipate 30 or 40, or 300 more years of new must-have toys that are faster, fancier, smaller and cheaper? Will we all end up laughing at the X-Box in our total-body simul-suits? Let’s stop that thought right there. Continue reading
Oh boy. It’s the leaders’ debate. Time for beer and popcorn. Uh, make that pablum. And a hanky.
What has me on the edge of tears is that politics in this country is an unskilled profession. Our politicians, though desperately keen to govern, aren’t just bad at it; they seem uncurious about how it’s done. Like Paul Martin trying to repair relations with the United States through abuse. You could argue with the goal; the NDP and Bloc did. But what rational person could expect to achieve it this way? Or to cure Western alienation (another top priority) without setting foot in Alberta in this election. Or to stop global warming by not doing anything.
We suffer a silent plague of such stuff. Remember how Dalton McGuinty spent 13 years in opposition, seven as leader of the Opposition, campaigned on neither cutting nor raising taxes, won, said golly I didn’t know the budget looked like that and raised taxes. The power of the purse (backed by the sword) is the essence of government. For 13 years his whole job was to pay attention to it. And he didn’t. Nor did he check electricity generating capacity against projected demand before promising to shut down Ontario’s coal-fired reactors. What was he doing all those years? His own party’s website boasts he’s too politically hyperactive to pursue hobbies. Continue reading
Almost from the moment it became known that a serious effort was under way to bring Narnia to the big screen, people have been debating whether Disney would trash the Christian message, or transmit it faithfully. We bring good tidings. This is indeed the Lion of Judah.
The question of how the film handled, mishandled or dropped the specifically Christian elements in the book is clouded by the other debate prior to the film’s release, about whether Narnia was necessarily Christian. This debate was mysterious because the Christian message of Narnia was not something awkwardly tacked on and therefore easy to remove.
The book The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is “subtle” in the sense that there are no crosses, no one says, “Hey, guys, Aslan’s Jesus, I just realized” and there are no virgin births. You don’t get a communion cup dashed in your face. But the whole structure of the story, and the world it depicts, is fundamentally Christian. Continue reading