A Shameful Gambit

When I was in college, I was a naive and somewhat obnoxious skeptic, agnostic, and freethinker, and I was all too happy to debate the Big Questions with anyone who could stand to listen. I was pretty upfront about it, though, and I really was interested in what other people had to say. (Hey, I was young, I was idealistic, and I was in college, which I foolishly thought had something to do with learning.)

Being open and receptive, I made the mistake of actually -- yes, I know now this was dumb and naive -- I actually invited some evangelical Christians into my apartment one weekend afternoon when they came knocking at my door. It only took one such experience for me to learn my lesson, though, because not only were they impervious to reason, not only were they so earnest, and so convinced of their righteousness, and so completely boring, but they were really, really hard to get rid of. They must have thought that I was waffling, on the edge, that maybe with a little more needling, they could get me to come over to their side, and then they could go home with another notch in their Bible or something. ("Another soul saved!" indeed.) I was really glad, and relieved, when they gave up, and the door finally, finally closed shut behind them.

The next Monday morning was perfectly ordinary -- until I checked my mailbox. On this day, I found a small envelope with my name and box number on it, and inside the envelope, there was a small plain card. And inside the card was a signed message from one of the evangelicals:

"Jesus knows about everything you've done, and he isn't ashamed of you."

Well, there you go. That's what I get.

"Jesus knows about everything you've done, and he isn't ashamed of you."

This card stands out in my memory as -- ironically -- the single most shameful gambit I have ever seen employed by evangelicals. They were trying to play any sense of shame I might possibly have, over anything I might have done -- even things nobody else knows about -- and exploit it. What secret sins could I have been hiding? Imagine your own here. Now imagine the effect a card like this has on someone who isn't very emotionally mature. Somebody like a repressed, naive college freshman. How many cards like this did they send out? I'll bet a few of them worked.

Of course I never responded to the card. I had a good, if bitter, laugh over it, and shelved it. I never actually saw the evangelicals again. I kept the card for a few years as a memento of sorts, but I don't have it any more. I'm awfully glad Jesus isn't ashamed of me, but these people ought to have been ashamed of themselves.

Please Do Not Dress Like the Unabomber



Here's a sign that's posted outside my bank. I've seen it now in front of several branches. It's obvious what they're trying to do, and I'm sympathetic, but why do they have to wrap the request in corporate mumble-mumble? "To ensure the safety of Fleet's customers ... " -- ? Obviously, this isn't an issue of the safety of Fleet's customers. If I'm wearing a pair of shades when I walk into a bank, I'm not threatening anybody's safety. They're just trying to make it easier to identify people on their security cameras. So I have a few questions for Fleet:

- Are they going to throw me out if I wear a hood into the bank?
- Do they expect that bank robbers or terrorists will remove hats, hoods, and/or shades before going in?
- Why not post this sign? It'll probably be about as effective:

To ensure the safety of Fleet's customers, we ask that you leave behind any handguns, rifles, shotguns, and bombs while inside the bank.
Thank you for your cooperation.

Let's Just Pack It In NOW

"I don't really see the point of continuing this marriage," I told my wife. "Marriage is clearly doomed now that a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage has failed in the Senate. Why don't we just cut our losses now and get divorced? I mean, it's only a matter of time before the gays destroy our marriage anyway. Let's just save everybody a whole lot of trouble."

"You're right," she said. "Before you know it, the institution of marriage will be ruined. Our personal commitment to each other means nothing in the face of the demands of people who are not like us to have the right to commit to each other. If we don't end our own marriage, they'll do it for us."

What the...?

Okay, this is really weird. Is it really an ad or is it a parody, or else WTF? I mean, does this make me want to eat Nutrigrain bars? No, but I guess it makes me want to link to the ad from my blog, so yeah ... I feel great.

404 Page Not Found - Trek Version

I was looking for suggestions for a good custom 404 page for the Playwrights' Platform site. I have a page which is fairly pedestrian, but I like this one a lot better.

I Don't Think That's Such A Good Idea, Davey...

I was in a novelty shop in New York when I noticed bendable Davey and Goliath toys; and I thought, "Wow! I remember Davey and Goliath!" This show was a staple of kid TV when I was little. Created by the great Art Clokey, the creator of the immortal Gumby, in the same slightly-creepy-but-nevertheless-compelling style of stop-motion claymation, Davey was explicitly commissioned by the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America as a way to promote Christian values to children. The show was absolutely harmless and wholesome, and when I was a kid, I watched it even though I didn't much like it (Mom and Dad had something to do with that). However, even then I was a little weirded out by the fact that Davey was getting moral advice from a dog. Finding this toy reminded me that I'm still weirded out by that.

According to the box copy on the bendable toy, "Goliath [is] Davey's dog. ... When Goliath talks, only Davey can hear him. Goliath sometimes acts as Davey's conscience."

Actually, I'm pretty sure that Protestant theology rejects the idea that animals have souls or are capable of moral choice. Goliath, as an animal, does not have a soul, and is incapable of attaining heaven and eternal life. Goliath lives solely according to his instincts.

If Goliath doesn't have a soul, then how can he dispense moral advice to Davey? And why did the Lutheran Church create a promotional TV series so clearly opposed to their theology?

Ah, but Goliath isn't really talking, you say. Davey just hears Goliath's imaginary voice in his head.

OK, let's say that's true. Davey is just hearing imaginary voices. And those imaginary voices are coming from ... where?
(A) God?
(B) The Devil?
(C) Davey's deep inner psychosis?

Either Goliath stands in contradiction to the church's theology, or Davey is a psychotic. Neither alternative really speaks well about the program's relationship with its sponsor, the ELCA. However, after letting the program lapse for a few years, the ELCA has decided to bring it back and promote it heavily. Hence the new toys, and new commercial partnerships, including a Mountain Dew commercial, because Jesus wants you to drink more caffeine-laced sugar water. Or Davey wants to, and rationalizes it by saying the dog (Which, Dude, is like, GOD spelled backwards!) told him to.

And, of course, the toys are made in China. That's because, as you know, Christ taught us that sweatshop labor at starvation wages under an oppressive, dictatorial regime is Good.