Saturday, January 26, 2008

Follow up on Grandpa's story, Part 1

Mom says she has a hard time getting the comment box to come up sometimes, so she passes this along...

apparently the verse was something along the lines of "your children cast out demons even more readily than you can" (or something, definitely Easton paraphrase there...) anyway, Aunt Donna remembers Grandpa coming in to talk to her when she was around 8 and asking her how to be a Christian. Mom remembers him coming in from the barn one Sunday morning when everyone else was at church. Mom was home sick that morning and she remembers him coming in and showing her that verse and saying he was saved. She remembers not knowing what he was seeing in that verse that she wasn't, but putting it with Aunt Donna's story, maybe there's something there.

Anyway. All that to say that I still don't know the reference, I tried looking up a verse that says that, and I'm confused as to what she's talking about, so maybe when she looks it up, we can talk about it again!!!

More than anything else though, the whole thing makes me glad that it is God who works, not we frail humans with our poor excuse for thinking. He works through all situations, and even a little child can lead us! God's Spirit doesn't need logic to work. Doesn't that make you glad that He's in charge not me...or you?

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Chagall Guevara

Chagall Guevara is one of those bands, among many no doubt in the history of modern music, who have been offered a sip from the Fountain of Youth only to have it torn from their hands just before it reached their lips. (Their MySpace page is called MCAkilledus, I believe, implying that their big label did nothing to help them along)The members included Lynn Nichols, Dave Perkins, Steve Taylor, Wade Jaynes, and Mike Mead. Steve Taylor is well known in some circles for his witty, scathing lyrics. (Perhaps soon to be even better known as the director of an up and coming movie based loosely on Blue Like Jazz) When you place him in a band with Chagall Guevara’s distribution, outside of the “Christian ghetto” he is able to take on society’s ills without worrying about offending people. His ability to see comparisons and word play, while taking deep aim at our conscience was never better than in Chagall.

I have lots of their lyrics from their one and only cd pass through my head and heart many times. The earlier quote a few weeks back about the boa unhitching its jaws is one of those, but big business and its ills are not really too high on my list of issues.

Other lines like “Hey, don’t I know you from some other life/You were wide-eyed and green, and a little bit taller/ And you didn’t look away/When spoken to,” do speak to me, personally and add a little empathy toward others.

One of my favourite saddest lyrics ever also comes from Chagall, a young boy speaking of his father says, “Every other week on visiting day
I get tolerated by his new wife
I swear, if he ever really held me
they'd have to pry me off with the jaws of life

“Dad's not talking at all
everything's making him mad
I used to come running to him
Now I’m learning to crawl”

Those lines bring tears even now, thinking of the real pain of real children in this very real world and wonder what I’m doing about it. What does a boy see in his daddy, when he turns out not to be the man he thought he was, where are the real heroes today?

The same song uses the line, “Daddy’s gone AWOL, absent without leaving.” I take that as a personal challenge, a slap in the face to modern fatherhood. Don’t be that guy.

Here are a few more, some fun, some witty, some darts to the heart.
Up's down, down is out, out is in
stairways circle back to where you've been

And my mind is like a whetstone now
sharpening things to throw

I think you've been blinded
by your own light
And I don't believe it's the way you were raised
or the cards you were dealt
or a poor self-image
I think you love yourself too much

'74 I left my neighborhood
looking for a Buffalo gal
everyone was gone when I got back home
and I think I like it better now

you'd be surprised what you can get used to
when your only other choice is...Houston

Well, I'm sorry, I've got the wrong George then, I guess

If misery loves...more
then why am I crying alone?

Genetic drifter
quarantined in my own dimension
Hey look!
It smokes, it drinks,it philosophizes!
it's loving this new attention
We apologize
but the status quota's already met
and if you reapply
you'll need a written excuse from

Saturday, January 19, 2008

I love you
I hacked in just to tell you how much I love you :)

Thursday, January 17, 2008

A thought or two

I've been thinking about negative attitudes.

The Samaritan leper comes back to thank Jesus, but nine of his buddies run off to the priest. Why? What did he say to them when he turned back? Did he assume that the others would be doing the same thing? Did he tell them what he was doing, but they just stared dumbfoundedly at him as he turned around and ran away? What went through their heads as they watched him disappear over the horizon? "Huh, why's he doing that?" It is puzzling to me and I can't imagine what the exchange must have been like. Why did only one come back?

I wonder who it says more about, the one or the nine? Do their statistics expand into the rest of the world, are ten percent of us aware of what God is doing in our life? Do ten percent of us give glory to God? Do ten percent of us think of Him first, our own benefits further down the list? Do ten percent of us see Him at work to bring glory to Himself, ahead of seeing Him as a cosmic Santa Claus handing out things to keep us happy?

The likelihood of me being in the 10 percent stands at roughly, oh, 1:10.

Second thought...

If all things work together for the good of those who love God, then I need to stop complaining. If I persist in these sniviling whines, then either: a) I don't believe that verse, b) I think God is a liar, c) I don't understand the word "all", d) I don't love God, e) I've been to the future, and I lose, or, f) I think "good" means financial, health, (ie temporary things).

Since "I'm a complicated guy, sweetheart" ( to quote Sawyer from 'LOST') its likely a pretty good combination of some of the above. I guess now I must do something about this knowledge.

Monday, January 14, 2008

A Posting to explain several of my last movie posts.

I came across an article I'd read a couple of years ago and thought how applicable it was to some of my latest posts regarding movies.

A couple weeks ago I was speaking Sunday evening at Hillside in Orillia and mentioned an old movie, North by Northwest. The blank faces and looks of indifference helped me to remember that for many, movies still hold many taboos.

Hollywood has earned its bad reputation, Sabrina and I are struggling through an old movie right now, Love in the Afternoon, from 1960. So far, and we're only half way through it, it has shown no redeeming qualities. I doubt I'll be able to post about the life lessons we can learn or be reminded of from this one. However, as one person has accurately put it, sometimes, the most scandalous book in the Christian bookstore is the Bible. We forget that God has given us lessons to learn. He sets standards and demonstrates those standards and their rewards and consequences through those gritty tales from both Testaments. Movies are a part of modern literature. We might as well get used to it. Just like there is good literature and bad literature, there are good movies and bad movies. Likewise, what is a classic novel to some is seen as trashy or a time waster by someone else.

Anyway, I re-read this article and thought, hmmm, isn't that about where I'm at these last few months. We can see the Creator through all kinds of creativity. I'll say that I don't agree with everything here, but for the most part I do. The part that strikes me the hardest is the part at the end about the Christian tailor. Too true. Without further ado, I'll copy and paste it here. This is copied from , they have it because the writer is Terry Taylor from Daniel Amos. The original article comes from

My Dinner with Bambi :
How I Was Able To Find God at the Movies
by Terry Scott Taylor
Worship Leader Fall 2001
It is my contention that Walt Disney's Bambi is quite possibly one of the great horror films of all time. Before you split your garments in two and cry "blasphemer," let me attempt to explain myself. Talking deer, adorable bunnies, and cute and cuddly skunks aside, this beau-tiful yet insidiously morbid little animated classic (only some 69 minutes in length) managed in 1958 to strike a lasting fear into my young heart in a way that no other film had done before and few have since. While Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho instilled in me a short-lived fear of showers, Alien cured me of my desire to be an astronaut, and Jaws sent me to the shallow end of the pool, it was dear little Bambi that drove a spike of dread and apprehension into the soul of my inno-cence that dogged me psychologically, per-haps for the entirety of my childhood.
In all fairness, my current opinion of the film (admittedly subjective) is a mixed one. I won't deny its particular charms, nor do I question its status as a well-crafted and timeless classic, but since Bambi takes place in the forest, it is only fitting that we are able, as they say, to see the forest for the trees. What initially comes on with an over-abundance of "warm fuzzies" artfully designed to gently lure the unsuspecting child down a primrose lane of animated naturalistic beauty lined with a plethora of adorable talking animals soon turns down-right mean and dirty. Bambi takes a fiery plunge in its closing moments that essen-tially dive bombs the "youngins" into what may be the most profoundly disturbing, heart-wrenching possibility an innocent child can possibly face in his or her life. I refer specifically to the loss of a parent or parents.
Of course, children will not react to the film with emotional uniformity (I was an overly sensitive kid anyway) and a good many of them, while appropriately sad-dened by the death of Bambi's mother, may in the end be absolutely delighted by what Walt Disney himself called his "favorite." I get the feeling that some of you have been shaking your heads all along and muttering "Hey dude, lighten up. It's just a cartoon!" Well…obviously I'm not so sure.
When in 1958 my mother dropped me off at the curb of the local movie house early so that I could be one of the first among my peers to experience the re-release of the 1942 classic, she was assum-ing, for good reason, that Bambi was a safe haven for a child's carefree imaginative romp in the kid-friendly playground known as "Disney." How could she have known that bright Saturday afternoon that I would be traumatized by the experience?
Numbed into silence by the film's shock-ing implications and my youthful inability to articulate my inner strivings, I didn't say a word when she picked me up, but instead feigned a smile and nodded in the affirmative when asked if I had enjoyed the movie. Had I been able to express some-thing of the pain I felt then, I am certain that mom would have taken the time to address my fears, alleviate my apprehen-sions, and perhaps help me to recognize the positive aspects of what I had just seen. In my mind's eye I might have been per-suaded by my mother's caring input to see the remnants of beauty still scattered about the charred fields of my personal vision of Bambiland. After all, winter turns to spring, mothers tend to be around for a long long time, and most kids are relative-ly safe from fire.
To be fair, Bambi is at heart a coming of age tale, rich with lessons of love, loss, courage and friendship, but I would definitely think twice before recom-mending it to just any child, or plopping my own children down in front of the tele-vision screen with the assumed confidence that the kids are automatically in the good, gentle hands (hooves?) of Bambi and Uncle Walt. While Bambi can certainly be consid-ered a family movie, it is no more a "Christian" film than is Apocalypse Now, and, depending on the child, can be every bit as incendiery as Coppola's masterpiece. As a parent I urge others to walk softly and carry a big stick when it comes to the viewing habits of our kids. There just may be a poisonous snake lurking there in the luscious green grass, even if the grass is animated.
Bambi shares this characteristic with a good number of films: there are booby-traps hidden among the flowers. If we are wise parents, teachers, pastors and youth pastors, we will not deny ourselves or our kids an uplifting stroll through the garden, but we will take the time to lov-ingly guide our youngsters through it, directing their attention to its many splen-dors, yet always being cautious, alert and ever vigilant to steer them clear of hidden dangers. Jesus Himself prayed "I do not ask thee to take them out of the world, but to keep them from the evil one."
While it is true that Bambi's dark underbelly managed to disturb and haunt me since that fateful afternoon in 1958, the film conversely contributed greatly to my love of the art of film. When I became a Christian many years later I struggled to learn how my newfound faith in Christ specifically impacted my love of the movies. I was eager to please the Lord and to live a pure life; so was I being "worldly" if I still attended movies? Certainly putting my love of film above my love of God would be an idolatrous exercise, but was I required to give up all movies that didn't "glorify the Lord?"
For years I remained somewhat ambivalent on the issue. For me, film fell into a kind of gray area, and while I didn't get the specific impression that the Lord was necessarily displeased by my movie going, I at least understood that He wanted me to be wise in my choices. It wasn't until 1981, inside a cramped little art film movie house in San Jose, Calif., that a full epiphany finally came. It was there that God's still small voice whispered to me something of His sovereignty, and through the most unexpected source deepened my love and intimacy with Him. My Dinner With Andre was not a "Christian" film, but it was God who didn't seem to mind at all.
A kind of spiritual thriller, "My Dinner with Andre" almost entirely takes place in a New York restaurant and is really little more than a conversation—albeit a staggeringly poignant one—between two friends. While both Andre Gregory and his friend Wally Shawn are playwrights and actors, one is a fairly contented agnostic, while the other is a passionate yet ulti-mately disenchanted seeker of religious mystical experiences. The fun for the view-er lies in the confrontational juxtaposition of these two points of view. In Andre and Shawn we are exposed to our own duality as we explore a world of contrasting sup-positions concerning love, death, art, and man's ongoing quest to find fulfillment in this life.
What to me is essential about My Dinner with Andre is the more personal epiphany I eluded too earlier. Even as the credits rolled and I wiped tears from my eyes on that transcendent night, the ques-tion began to form in my mind: was it pos-sible for a "secular" film to be a source of God's grace? It was my heart that answered in the affirmative. Suddenly I knew that God was "bigger" than I had supposed. Through this move, the Lord had provoked my faith, challenged me in innumerable and profound ways, stirred up my love for mankind in all its heartbreaking fallenness, and essentially given back to me a new love for film transformed by the very real prospect that a sovereign God can speak through whatever means He chooses to speak. God wasn't even bound by the movie ratings system. I wasn't serving a "G" rated God. I was serving the Lord of the Universe.
Seeing film with the eyes of faith is essential if we are to find, often in spite of the directors intent, its deeper meaning and implications for us as Christians. A film doesn't need to be a "Christian" film—in the narrowest sense of the term—in order for us to discover its relevancy to our lives. Some of us have a measure of faith that gives us a liberty in our viewing habits that, while tempered by wisdom and con-strained by discernment, encompasses a wide range and variety of film. Others may be more easily "stumbled" by certain films or perhaps even repelled by the whole idea of going to the movies. Whatever our measure of faith, the fact is that film exists. It is my personal belief that we as pastors, youth leaders and parents must not ask our young people to simply ignore film, nor narrow their choices down to a paltry few we consider "safe," nor separate movies into neat little categories marked "secular" and "Christian."To do so would only be a vain attempt at placing limits on a sovereign God while at the same time depriving our kids of an enriching film experience by means of excessive restriction. I have often gone to see a film first before I allowed my children to see it. I have also found that viewing and then discussing film with my children can be an insightful, as well as an exciting and enriching experience for us all.
Let me say at this point that in regard to our Christian young people, the Church community has been scandalously lax in encouraging them in the area of the arts. We are no doubt the poorer for it. Who knows? Perhaps seated in our pews right now is a young man or woman who just might be, with the proper encouragement and support, the next truly great director. Imagine a Christian film director with the craftsmanship of a Spielberg or a Scorcese who not only knows the Lord, but also desires to serve and honor Him through the medium of film? Will we encourage that person or debilitate them with faith-less and pious restrictions that serve only to boost pride in our own supposed virtue? God forbid.The very least we owe them, as well as to all our young people, is the dis-tinctive difference between good and bad film. Bambi, for instance, isn't better than Pokemon, the Movie because it's more "Christian" in content, but because Bambi's artistic vision and craftsmanship shows up Pokemon for what it truly is: a cheaply ren-dered, extended plug solely created to cash in on a passing fad.
It's extremely important that we teach our young people the difference, and that we equally point out to them the difference between the "art" of Disney and that of a Rembrandt or a Van Gogh. To be great we must be inspired to greatness. I cannot be a great artist if I can't draw the distinction between say a film like the original Rocky and the recent Carman film attempt The Heart of a Champion, which is basically a pal-try imitation of Stallone's great movie that, fortunately or unfortunately (depending how you look at it), took the big nose dive at box office despite it being a "Christian" film. If the Christian young person desires to be a filmmaker, then he or she is impelled to study a wide variety of film, especially those that are universally esteemed.
I'll never forget the outcry in some Church circles over the "nudity" in anoth-er Steven Spielberg classic, Schindler's List.I was absolutely stunned by what can only be described as a knee jerk reaction by well meaning but blindly sanctimonious brethren. When we as God's people cannot draw a distinction between the heart wrenching, utterly devastating kind of nudity depicted in Spielberg's masterpiece and the common pornographic nudity found in many modern films, then we have lost not only our heads, but our hearts as well. If Spielberg's historically accurate portrayal of Nazi cruelties doesn't break the Christian's heart to bits and cause him to bow his head in shame at man's inhuman-ity to man (which includes his own inhu-manity) then he has no right to wonder why the world will not listen to us when we speal about such things.
Such attitudes are more lewd than the crudest pornography, and to offer them to the world as a fruit of righteousness is to degrade not only ourselves, but also the memories of those who suffered through those very humiliations. This distorted sense of Christian 'decorum', which is nothing more than the sin of pride, is essentially what Jesus was referring to when He said, "you strain at a gnat and swallow a camel."
Great films like Schindler's List some-times require that we courageously look into the abyss of our own nature. The Christian, of all people can do so with great courage, because this is what he has been saved from. Film reminds him that we must, even as Christians, fight with all dili-gence "the good fight" because our natur-al propensities, like all of mankind, is to commit great evil in the world. Film is a reminder to me that I am indeed in the world but not of it…in the culture but not of it.
To ignore film is to essentially ignore our culture. We as Christians must speak to our world with the authoritative voice of relevance, and I believe that viewing film is one way in which we can be fully equipped to do so. The few "Christian" films that exist—those made specifically by Christians—are essentially poorly written, directed and acted because all that we may require of them is that they "present the Gospel message." I would equate this atti-tude with that of a Christian tailor who sells poorly-constructed suits but sews a label into the collars of his suits that have John 3:16 printed on them. The result of his actions will be lots of returns and com-plaints, zero clientele in the end, and a tai-lor considered by those in the know to be little more than a third rate hack.
Of course having faithfully sown his "Christian witness" into the collar of the suit, our tailor will be convinced of his own piety and will conclude that the com-plaints and loss of his customers means he is suffering for his faith. A Christian fish placed on a junk pile doesn't transform a garbage heap into a mountain of gold. The present spate of "Christian" films like Omega Code and Left Behind are a sub-par sci-fi flick with questionable "end-times" theology— the cinematic version of the junk pile with the Christian fish. I understand that many in the Christian church are excited over it. The producers claim it's the flagship that is going to rescue the movies from "those pagans in Hollywood." Lord save us from ourselves.
The truly great movie possesses the power to stir our imaginations, give us hope, challenge us, inspire us to greatness, inform, amaze and bedazzle us beyond our own expectations. Because they are made by fallen people, film can also effect us in countless unbeneficial ways celebrating as they do both the sublime and the ridicu-lous. To be honest, most film has the nutri-tional value of junk food, which may be fine from time to time, but it can also cause clogged arteries and heart failure if con-sumed without restriction. While the occa-sional candy bar can't hurt, we must be determined to steer our kids, as well as ourselves, away from its addictive allure and eat a well-balanced meal whenever possible. Great cinema can be such a meal.
Of course I believe that "one man's meat is another man's poison" which brings us back our dear little talking faun. Despite my initially negative childhood experience, I believe that even Bambi, just like My Dinner With Andre, can speak to the human heart something of the truth about love, death, and art and can articulate to us something of who we are and of Who God is as well. In the sense that all men and women have a buried likeness to their Creator, that we are all dressed in a kind of tattered glory and wear, as it were, "rags of light," that image is manifested in the work and art of all of us. The great directors, while often embracing man's depravity, cannot override the Christian's uniquely heightened sense of discernment or negate their spiritual sensibilities. "Greater is He that is in you, than he that is in the world." Christian moviegoers must not resist the liberating Spirit of Christ within them, which allows them to see film through the eyes of their faith. Both Bambi and My Dinner with Andre are essentially stories of redemp-tion pointing, however subtly, to the One who is both the writer and director of the greatest act of Redemption ever performed on the human stage.
So go ahead if you have a mind to, enjoy Uncle Walt's favorite.Who am I to tell you what meals to eat or where the wind of the Spirit may blow? Bambi may in fact be your epiphany. If the liberty God has given you allows you to delight in the movies, then you will know that they are truly a gift from the One who promised His children an abundant life: "Happy is he who does not condemn himself in what he approves" (Romans 14:22). Just remember to choose well and look for the finger-prints of God on the screen the next time you attend the movies. Listen for that still small voice whispering between the lines spoken by its actors.You never know what, or Who, you might find.

Terry Scott Taylor has been a musician, producer, and songwriter for most of his adult life and is the found-ing member of the band Daniel Amos. He is current-ly writing a non-fiction book due for release next year. Mr.Taylor may be contacted at

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Since Mom brought up Grandpa Harry.

It’s Grandpa’s birthday Mom reminds me. When I think of Grandpa, I think of stories, of a man who lived a life that was worth reminiscing about. He would have loved this internet thing, a whole new audience to turn his stories out to.

Today he would have been 109. He lived to 96 as it was, so we can’t lament a short life! I don’t know how many times I think of him in the course of a week, likely once or twice. Sometimes it’s pictures, sometimes it’s a story, sometimes it’s standing with my hands behind my back.

I don’t ever remember him driving. It was always Granny. He used to say, “Whenever I take my eyes off the road you start heading for the ditch!”

I guess Grandpa was always old, to me. I know he was young once, I heard lots of those stories from him, but he was 72 when I was born and likely at least 76 or 77 by the time I remember him.

My favourite Grandpa story was one that I never heard from him. The story of how he would sneak his Bible out to the barn to do some business with God. This was before he really knew what a relationship with Him, through Jesus was about. He was able to find himself in the Gospels and come to know the Saviour. This was around the age of 45, Mom will have to let me/us know what the odd verse was that the Lord used to bring him to Himself.

Happy Birthday, Grandpa. I know you’re busy today, enjoying heaven, bird watching if they do that there. Either that or sitting on a bench reminiscing. If he’s 85 in heaven, that is.

A follow up to the hungry post

Some say it's insatiable
Some say it just unhooks its jaws
And then it swallows most anything it wants
Even a full grown fat man

This posting is in response to my post from a few days ago, about the song lyric and what it meant to me.

Well, Patti had a really great idea, pride... That would be really close to home in the metaphysical use of the word "home". I was using the word home a little more literally.

The lyric refers to...

our littlest boy. Man that lad can eat. Sorry it wasn't any deeper than that:(

The song itself refers to greed especially the greed of big business as it swallows up the little people and companies around it. The insatiable appetite belongs to a "big long boa" (greed) which swallows even the big fat man who represents the over-indulgent corporate world.

I hope that was worth the wait, I know it wasn't what you were looking for, but maybe it will make me post something more about Chagall Guevara ...

Sunday, January 06, 2008

Just a video test

This is following a succesful leap off yon roof. An a test to see what this blog thing will do, don't miss the post right below this one, as I added two in a row...

Ted Hall Orillia Canada on vocals.

Life Lessons from The Maytrees

Well, I just finished yet another classic from Annie Dillard.

The Maytrees is her second novel, the first since 1991 I think. She is better known for her reflections on science and day to day observances. The Maytrees combines her best points from say, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek with a well built novel sith three dimensional characters, (as best as they will let us know them) and active, insightful description.

What is The Maytrees about though? Well, reading further could spoil the story for you. If you are reading it for more than the love story, feel free to read on, if you doubt you'll ever read it, read on. If you want to read it for the story alone, better quit, rent, borrow or buy it, and come back here later....

There, now that no one has gone away, lets continue!

Maytree is the last name of the main couple in the book. They embark on a quirky marital relationship and pay attention (as likely all of us do) too litte to what the nature of their love or just love in itself, is.

The main plotline in the story is that Mr Maytree, after 14 years and one son have come along, runs off with Mrs Maytree's best friend. No lead up to this really, just a few hours notice and he's gone. The rest of the book is Mrs Maytree's attempt to not let her loss get her or her son into a place of bitterness. She had seen her mother go through a similar situation and watched her live out her life in bitterness.

The beauty of the story, at times unbelievable, is that when 20 years has gone by, Mr Maytree, his new(er) wife move back in with the original Mrs Maytree so she can take care of them. Dillard goes through great pains to build up the possibility for us to believe that someone would actually do this ahead of time, without really letting us in on the whole secret.

Two observances for now, I'm going to re-read this book, so I'll have more observances later, say a month or three:

1) Christ loved the church just like this and it breaks my heart to think of it. God loves Israel like this and it breaks my heart to think of it. Israel is the wayward husband, the church is the new wife, that drew Israel away from the First Love. God, through Christ welcomes us back with open arms, without any explanation, just love.
2) Annie Dillard is Lou Maytree. I think.

Friday, January 04, 2008

Release it and let it go.

So I've had this song lyric in my head over the past few days. As a quiz, who can tell me who this is about, in my mind and life, not as the lyricist originally intended... Sabrina can't guess, cause I already told her... I think... Feel free to google it... though it won't help. It will likely lead me to post more on this and a related feature later

Some say it's insatiable
Some say it just unhooks its jaws
And then it swallows most anything it wants
Even a full grown fat man

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

Life Lessons from Big Fish

Life Lessons from Big Fish

Well, it’s a Tim Burton movie. If that means anything to you, you know what you’re in for. Now I only have experience with Edward Scissorhands and a few glimpses at Sleepy Hollow and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, but for some reason, it just says Tim Burton. To top it off, it is creative and well scripted.

What is to be learned or gleaned from this quirky little fantasy movie for adults?

“A dangerous path is made much worse by darkness.” This line reminds us that not only is the road to destruction a road with a doomed destination, sometimes we are blind to the fact we are on that path.

“Most things you consider evil or wicked are lonely or lacking in social niceties.” Though some things which are evil we tend to look at as being quaint, there is some truth to the quote. We criticize what we don’t understand to quote the old song. We look into what is different from us and decide it is wrong, evil.

“Truth is I’ve been thirsty my whole life, I just don’t know why.” What a telling line for those searching for God. Dead, but not knowing what would give the life they are looking for.

The movie does have a few instances of artistic license that some may find objectionable, but all in all, it is a very fun, confusing, thoughtful movie.