Angels We Have Heard
Are High

angelic kitsch...from Hell

Cavalcade of Bad Nativities
it came upon a midnight weird

The Passion of the Tchotchke
holy week kitsch-o-rama

Stations of the Kitsch


I am not responsible for the content of the above ads, which are often hilariously mis-matched.


Thursday, February 19, 2004

we love the suuuuubs....we are eviiiiiiiiiiiiil....

The Quizno's ads with the singing whatevers are creeping me right directly out. I'm going to go with the reviewer on Television Without Pity who said that they look like parasitic twins - tumors with eyes and teeth. I can't look. It's just too horrible. And yet I cannot look away. Nor do I want a sandwich afterwards.

Not that I have to worry about such things for much longer because Dennis and I are now part of the TiVo generation, and commercials are dead to me. Bah!

We have been given a hand-me-down TiVo (TeeeeeeeVoooh) by our wonderful fabulous friends, and soon I will plug it in and make the magic happen. But not while Dennis is home, because there is technology involved and I find that it's best for me and technology to do our thing in private. I get angry at the technology when it does not behave the way I want it to, and it's best not to have an audience for that. I get into this weird place where I'm talking to objects and not to you and none of it makes any kind of sense to anyone who might be standing by and wondering where the normally nice and sweet Sara went and when this psychotic monster with an electric screwdriver will be leaving.

See also: Ikea, assembly of items from
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Tuesday, February 17, 2004

that movie

I don't know if I'm going to see The Passion of The Christ. I don't think so, but it's not for any really intellectual or political reason. It's because of the Lord of the Rings.

I loved the movies, I think they were brilliantly done, but there is no doubt in my mind that they took something away from me. They took away my ability to read the books and visualize a middle earth that isn't in New Zealand. In this case, I can live with the loss; middle earth isn't all that important in the grand scheme of my life. But I'm really hesitant to do the same thing to a story that is at the center of my faith. I don't want to give Jesus a face. I don't want to define a visual for Holy Week and burn it into my brain. I don't want to take a story which is rich in metaphor and make something concrete from it.

I guess what I'm saying is...I want this story to be mine. I'm afraid that the movie version will be so much louder and bloodier and bigger than my tiny little understanding of the story that it will take over, become It, become The Official Record. Right now, it's this story that we tell in our little community, and we try to work it out together, coming at it with music and light and darkness and silence and liturgy (and the occasional mime performance). It is, from year to year, bigger or smaller or louder or quieter, depending on how I am when I hear it. Some parts move forward, and others recede. I suspect the working of the Holy Spirit in that, nudging me toward whatever truth is most needed in my life. I don't want to lose that sense of exploration, of having the story unfold for me as I'm ready for it.
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