BSG - The Last Supper

This is brilliant:


Notice there is no Peter. The "hints" given here suggest this is because the final Cylon has not been revealed, but given Lee's position, I wonder if it doesn't also present an ambiguity about his destiny: Will his betrayal end in death (as Judas) or in redemption (as Peter)?

Galactica Station also notes that the season premier will be titled “He That Believeth in Me” (referencing John 11:25-26; HT: Church of the Masses). I’m more than a little concerned (though not surprised) that the Six is in the position of Jesus (and Baltar is the Beloved Disciple), but they have certainly caught my interest!

My So-Called Second Life Article

Since Salvo 4 is finally wrapping up (you can read a few of the articles here), it seems a good time to post my article from Salvo 3, focusing on the social impact of virtual worlds like Second Life and World of Warcraft. It's much too long to include in the post itself, so click here for a text-only version, or here for the full-color PDF (this is a large file). I'd love to hear your comments, whether you've tried anything like Second Life or not. Here's an excerpt:

The truth is that, more often than not, I find Second Life depressing. Perhaps it’s just my introverted personality (if only I could change that with a click of the mouse; I must have missed that section of the character creation page), but most people I meet here are wandering aimlessly, shopping, or sitting quietly in one of the many casinos that pay you to occupy their chairs. Regardless of when I log on, the world map always looks the same: a mostly abandoned landscape, speckled with pockets of a dozen people or so. Teleporting to one of these gatherings, I usually find everyone "dancing" to pre-programmed moves—another activity for which you can earn a small fee—not saying a word to each other. The picture of a meaningless existence? Well-to-do adults pole dancing in an empty bar for 25 cents an hour.

In our culture, we tend to think freedom is the highest good, but the empty cities of Second Life suggest otherwise. It’s not freedom we crave, but rather purpose. More even than the absence of physical sensation, Second Life proves surprisingly dull because there’s no goal—nothing needs to be done, so the freedom offered is meaningless. Game-focused MMOs, such as World of Warcraft, are better populated, in part because they have more constraints. Completing quests and winning battles provide a semblance of accomplishment. Compared to our world of dead-end jobs and unending housework, the possibility of being a hero, even if only in some artificial reality, can be enchanting. Sure, it may just be the illusion of meaning—the world is no better off afterwards than it was when you started; indeed, the very same quests await the next player—but it can be surprisingly addictive.

One additional note: Since this was published in August (and written in May), it is likely that some of the facts and figures are out of date (e.g. subscription totals), but hopefully my overall impressions and conclusions remain valid.

Battlestar Galactica Season 3

Battlestar Galactica, which will begin its fourth season in March, has long been one of my wife and my favorite shows. I absolutely loved the first season (see here for why), and the second was also excellent, but I was not so sure about the third season. Like the first two, it continued to force its characters into uncomfortable moral quandaries and beg its viewers to decide for themselves whether the right choices have been made. It also continued to weave together intriguing storylines, leading up to a fantastic season finale (e.g. I loved the whole music-Cylons subplot; if you’ve seen the show, you know what I mean). Even so, at times the episodes weren’t as exciting as I had come to expect, and I felt like some of the theological undercurrents had disappeared.

In an excellent pair of posts at Church of the Masses, here and here (spoiler warning!), Catholic screenwriter Barbara Nicolosi provides some engaging discussion of these issues. She admits that she also found herself disappointed with the third season, but upon second viewing she realized that the problem wasn’t the show itself, which was as brilliant as ever. Rather, she had allowed herself to look for a Cinderella/soap-opera kind of story, in a show that admirably refuses to provide one. Looking deeper, Nicolosi points out an impressive theological trajectory to the season’s central plot-line (centering on Kara and Lee). Perhaps I’m not as bright as she is, but the “obvious bunch of connections” she describes were anything but obvious to me. Fascinating!

35 Years of Abortion

As you may already know, today marks the 35th anniversary of Roe v. Wade, the Supreme Court ruling that made abortion legal in the United States. Since that fateful day, an estimated 40 million abortions have been performed in this country alone. That's 40 million Americans, killed before they even had the chance to take a breath - 40 million unique individuals, human beings just like you and me, whose lives were cut tragically short, by another's choice.

I don't have much to say on a day like this, but Julie Grisolano has written a moving piece on the subject over at Signs of the Times. By all means, read it.

More Harry Potter and Christian Morality

Over at Mere Comments, S.M. Hutchens has an interesting post on Harry Potter's Christian trajectory:

The Rowling fantasy, for those who are able to see it, is a very typical moral tale of the Judeo-Christian west: it is the story (I have said elsewhere that this is the only real Story there is) of the hidden prince born in troubled obscurity, who finds it in himself to love good and oppose evil, and who, aided by a rather motley lot of companions, destroys at the forfeit of his life the kingdom of the Evil One, finally coming into his own and living happily ever after. It is the story of the Gospel; it is our story. To love it is to love the story of Christ and his church. Harry Potter is an imperfect Christ, to be sure, but what reasonable person would confuse the thing itself with its image?

Read the whole thing.

Glamorized Magic and Harry Potter

I finally convinced my wife to watch one of the Harry Potter films this week. She enjoyed it more than she expected, but remained concerned that these are marketed to children. Echoing a common Christian objection to the series, she asked: What if, by glamorizing magic, it leads kids to the occult? As adults, she admitted, we can see that this is fantasy, but kids are impressionable. I pointed out that the magic in Harry Potter bears no relation to any kind of real-world sorcery (no gods or demons are invoked or manipulated; they merely wave wands around and speak in Latin!). Then it occurred to me: If a movie’s effect on kids is truly one’s concern, Harry Potter ought to be much further down the list than it usually is.

If kids really are liable to copy what they see in their favorite films, shouldn’t we be much less concerned about magic, and much more concerned about glamorized violence? After all, a kid can practice waving a stick around all week and he’s not going to do any harm, but how many times does he need to see his heroes solve their problems by beating up or killing “bad guys,” before he considers trying that? If, on the other hand, a story can legitimately employ violence as a metaphor for the battle between good and evil, why cannot fictionalized magic be used in the same way?

Surely I’m not the first to have thought of this.

Christian Carnival 207

My previous post is included in this week's Christian Carnival. Thanks to Diary of 1 for hosting!

Of Sin and Judgment (A Dark Dream)

A man finds himself in a dark place. Skeletons line the walls, each bearing a name with a list of sins. The man starts to walk, confused and frightened but unsure where he is or how he got there. He soon finds a space without a corpse, just a name—his name—and with it another list: dishonesty, selfishness, theft, adultery. Stumbling back in horror, the man suddenly realizes where he is.

“No, this is a mistake!” he shouts to the empty room. “I may lie occasionally, but I’m no thief! If I’m self-focused, how is that worse than anyone else?” He turns his back to the charges as his voice grows louder, “I’m no adulterer!” But the empty room gives no response. “I don’t belong here; this is a mistake.” He repeats, and begins to run.

Racing through room after room, he sees that each is filled with the dead, and each space bears a name and a list. Other passages lead off in every direction, but he does not turn or slow. Soon the skeletons are replaced with bodies—perhaps they died more recently?—but he cannot stop to wonder. Further and further he goes until, with a start, he finds himself among the dying. Checking his pace, he notes the lists have gone, but they are hardly needed here. All around him people lying about helpless, or hunched up in corners, but even in their pitiful state, they are arguing, cheating, lying to one another. Some are crying in pain, others complaining, familiar words:

“I don’t belong here, I haven’t done anything wrong. Help!”

The man shudders, but offers no aid. All he wants is escape, and he again he begins to run. No longer looking around, he charges on for what seems like hours, until his legs ache and his breath a dry rattle. Finally taking in his surroundings, he sees finds himself in a dingy town filled with cold and lonely houses, their windows shut and doors barred. Hearing voices ahead, he sees a bar and hurries in. Exhausted and parched, he stumbles into a chair and begins to look around. The place is filled with people. But these are not dying like the others. Some are talking loudly, two are fighting, several are drinking, and most seem to be enjoying themselves, the couple in the corner—perhaps a bit too much. In truth, this scene confuses him more than anything else he has seen, but before he can think too long on it the bartender’s uncomfortable stare reminds him of his thirst and he hurries to the bar.

“What do ya want?” the bartender demands.

“Water, anything!” the man gasps.

“Water? How ‘bout a real drink?” comes the gruff reply.

“You don’t understand,” he responds, reddening, “I don’t have any money. I don’t even know how I got here!”

“No money, eh? Then what are ya doing in my bar?”

“Please, all I want is a glass of water!” the man begs.

But the bartender will not budge, “I don’t know you and you don’t know me, now get out of my bar before we have a real problem.” The place seems a lot less friendly now, as everyone turns to look.

Realizing nothing he says will help, the man turns to leave, but then sees someone’s mug on a table near the door. Without a thought, he grabs it and runs, diving out the door and around a corner. As he hides in the alley, a dozen angry men follow into the street, though they quickly give up the chase and return to their drinks.

Fearful and despondent, the man collapses against the wall in resignation. In all the commotion, he managed to spill the drink, and the few remaining drops only mock his thirst. With a sigh, he mutters: “What kind of town is this?” and is surprised to hear an answer.

“The only kind left,” says a voice behind him.

Turning with a start, the man sees a mournful looking woman standing in a doorway.

“What is this place?” he asks.

“Hell, I suppose, or maybe purgatory.”

“No, that can’t be! I don’t belong here!” he shouts for what seems the hundredth time. “I’m not a bad man; I’m no... thief,” he repeats, abruptly remembering the mug in his hand. Disgusted, he throws it aside and mutters, “I was dying of thirst.”

The woman just laughs and invites him in for a drink. Happily accepting, he follows her into a small apartment and sits down at the kitchen table. She brings him a glass of water, and he drinks greedily as he tries to wrap his mind around all that has happened.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” he finally concludes, “I was a good man. Maybe not a great one, but what did I do to deserve hell?” The woman attempts no answer. “And what about you?” he asks her, “You seem nice enough, what are you doing here?”

She just shrugs, “Maybe it’s not just what you did, but what you would do?” That brings him up short. “Did you ever steal before today?” she asks.

“No, never! Well, nothing serious, anyway. A pack of gum when I was a kid, or maybe some office supplies....” but he trails off, the words feel hollow now.

“Did you ever want to steal more, and only didn’t because you feared being caught?”

Feeling uncomfortable, the man changes the subject, “So what now? Is this it? You die, show up here, and then what?”

Again, the woman shrugs, “If this is hell,” she replies, “then what does it matter?”

“What do you mean if?” he retorts.

“Maybe it’s just a test,” she suggests, “you first found yourself among the dead, right? What sins were listed by your name? Since you left there, have you tried to avoid them?”

The man shifts in his seat, thinking first of those dying whom he ran past without a care. Selfishness, he mused, then he thought of the bar, and theft. And the next item on the list? Adultery, surely I wasn’t thinking of that! But he feels himself getting warm. It wouldn’t be the first time you'd wanted such a thing, a voice inside him mocks. Looking around this little apartment nestled behind the bar, he suddenly wonders what this woman does for a living.

As if reading his thoughts, she offers: “It seems to me you have a choice: Live as though this is the end, in which case nothing you do matters.” Did she just glance at the bedroom door? “Or live as though there is something more, in which case everything you do matters.”

And with a shock, the man awoke.

Blog-Level Ecumenism

Per Christum has some interesting analysis of the phenomena of “blog-level ecumenism,” which is well worth reading (HT: ThinkChristian). David argues that the rise of the blog has fostered a broad-based (though mostly unconscious) ecumenical movement which holds great potential for mutual understanding and cooperation among diverse Christian denominations. Though I rather doubt this will ever result in an institutional unification of Christianity, it is certainly capable of building bridges at an individual level. Indeed, my own awareness and appreciation of the diversity of Christianity has been vastly enlarged as a result of the time I have spent blogging, and I know I am not alone.

Though it is rather embarrassing to admit, not that many years ago I was a stereotypical fundamentalist Protestant, convinced that all Catholics and “liberal” Protestants were far from the truth and thoroughly lost. Though four years of college did a great deal to widen my perspective, it wasn’t until I began blogging that I ever really interacted with people from outside my tradition, nor realized how deeply my misconceptions went. That today I can enthusiastically link to a Catholic, writing on ecumenism, is supremely ironic considering where I started, and this change is largely due to the people I have met online. Indeed, my very blog-title is another irony; I had never even heard of Chesterton (a Catholic) until someone mentioned him on a blog. Such was my sheltered youth.

Points to Ponder - The Problem of Pain

Different ages excelled in different virtues. If, then, you are ever tempted to think that we modern Western Europeans cannot really be so very bad because we are, comparatively speaking, humane - if, in other words, you think God might be content with us on that ground - ask yourself whether you think God ought to have been content with the cruelty of cruel ages because they excelled in courage or chastity. From considering how the cruelty of our ancestors looks to us, you may get some inkling how our softness, worldliness, and timidity would have looked to them, and hence how both must look to God.

C.S. Lewis The Problem of Pain, pg. 58 (Harper Collins)

Merry Christmas!

Whew! My busiest semester yet is finally over. In two weeks I'll have to start again, but for now I at last have a chance to catch my breath, spend time with my wife and daughter, perhaps even write a few blog posts (has it really been a month since the last one?). As a start, here are two Christmas-related stories that caught my eye:

As it turns out, this central Christian holiday really does make us happier--imagine that! No offense to George Bailey and Charlie Brown, but depression and suicide rates actually decrease around Christmas.

Also, apparently even Richard Dawkins enjoys singing Christmas carols. I’d love to see a youtube clip of the arch-atheist himself singing:

Joy to the world, the Lord has come!
Let earth receive her king!
Let every heart prepare him room!
And heaven and nature sing!

Journeyman

There’s not much on TV that I care about anymore, but NBC’s Journeyman has quickly become a favorite. Airing on Mondays at 10pm, the show is vaguely reminiscent of Quantum Leap, but with a number of twists (and no body-snatching). It tells the story of San Francisco reporter Dan Vassar (well played by Kevin McKidd), who suddenly and uncontrollably finds himself jumping back in time. With no more warning than a headache, he is repeatedly transported to some earlier time, stays for a short while, and then returns to the present.

Dan has no more idea why this is happening than we do, but he quickly discovers that his jumps are anything but random. Each time, he finds himself at some significant (often tragic) moment in another person’s life, and he usually follows that same person through several such events before moving on to a new “mark.” No one tells him who, how or why to help, but as he follows his “intuition,” things usually work out better than “the first time around.”

Besides the obvious drama these trips engender, additional tensions arise from the curious fact that Dan does not return to exactly the same time and place that he left, which means he is routinely missing for hours or even days at a time. This, of course, leads to all sorts of awkward questions and frustrations (not to mention, fortuitous escapes), especially when he discovers that his ex-fiancée Olivia, whom he thought had died in a plane crash, also travels through time with him.

These things keep the show exciting, but the real fascination lies in the mystery surrounding these “trips.” What or who causes them? How is it that Dan always shows up at just the right time and place to do the most good? How is such travel possible at all? What role does Livia play in all of this, and why does she so often come to the same places as Dan? Though we’ve been given some vague hints – particularly from a certain eccentric astrophysicist who occasionally drops in on Dan's life – most of these questions are as yet unanswered, leaving my wife and I with plenty to speculate about as we go to bed every Monday.

In all of this, Journeyman proves to be a surprisingly wholesome addition to prime-time television. Despite the relational tensions explored, there is no question of the importance of faithfulness, and Dan remains deeply committed to his wife and son. Perhaps more significantly, Dan’s selfless assistance of the people he tracks is central to the show. He occasionally (and understandably) grows frustrated with whatever “cosmic power” is making him “do its dirty work,” but even so, he routinely sacrifices his own safety to save these strangers. Indeed, in a few episodes he has even tried to save people he wasn’t sent to help, at great personal cost and despite Olivia’s warnings about the dangers of such a course.

Yet perhaps the most interesting aspects of the show, given the generally atheistic assumptions of most television, are the metaphysical questions it raises. All time travel stories are mind-bending in one way or another, but by leaving the means of travel undisclosed, Journeman adds a further level of interest. For even if Dan’s trips are so far unexplained, that doesn’t mean that just any explanation would fit. His jumps are not random, and the fact that he always goes back to precisely those times and places necessary to save people, points to some sort of conscious will behind the process. Though Dan does not control these jumps, it seems clear that someone does, and that someone is not only exceedingly intelligent and powerful, but also very concerned with saving the lives of even the lowliest of people.

Of course, this is only science fiction, but that sounds a lot like the Christian God. Yet the form of the argument is oddly familiar: Though we don’t know how this unnamed power sends Dan back in time, we can be certain they are doing so intentionally, because the “coincidences” are just too numerous to be accidental. This, it turns out, is precisely what Intelligent Design proponents claim about life on earth: that the purposeful nature of life points to design even while such evidence alone is not enough to prove who or how. In the history of life, as in Journeyman, we cannot help but ask how such things are possible (a fact that ID theorists too often forget), but in both cases the evident purposefulness of the process requires that any valid explanation must also involve a who.

Assuming the show survives long enough to raise the issue, you can bet that the only way we will ever know the true identity of the one behind the scenes is if they choose to reveal it. The argument from design can only go so far; apart from some form of revelation, all that remains is speculation. Though perhaps that's half the fun.

UPDATE: Corrected 11/23 to fix a couple typos an a factual error pointed out by my brother.

The Revenge of Conscience

I stumbled upon this classic article while working on a paper on Numbers 31 (a horrifying passage!). As I remain embroiled in said paper, I'll present this without comment, but it is well worth reading: The Revenge of Conscience by J. Budziszewski (First Things 1998).

Everyone's Doing It

Ok, I'll jump on the bandwagon. I was gonna say this thing is random (Salvo is graded "Genius" while Signs of the Times is "Junior High Level," even though they're written by the same people), but as it turns out, I am a graduate student.... Anyway, I think it looks cool. :)

Cash Advance Loans

Taking Things "on Faith"

This is a very busy week month for me, so while I work on my Thesis proposal, I’ll let someone else do the talking. Here is a post by James McGrath with which I agree entirely. He argues that biblical faith is not about believing things without evidence, but about trusting in God, which fact has significant implications for any view of creationism or inerrancy. By all means read it.

HT: Higgaion.