Dallas Really Wasn’t Awfully Good

So I have had a few days off to enjoy responsibly. The first day I thought I might go and take a driving test and that turned out to be a wise decision since I passed with only one error. In other words, I think I can drive the Popemobile now. When are MTV going to pimp the Popemobile? Papa Ratzie really needs a tabernacle installed into the dash and a boot that converts into a mobile confessional.

After leaving the test centre I fully expected my victory over 3-point-turns to be covered by Anne Doyle on the news but I was shocked that it isn’t considered a pressing issue for the children of Eire. I have written a letter to my local representative. I forgot who that was so I just addressed it to Declan Carty because he is always annoying me on the radio by calling things “tragic” and “shocking” and expressing outrage. He is like an Aprés Match parody of Joe Dolan made real and pompous. I did however ceremonially burn my L-plates in an ancient pagan ritual that could get me fired if my evangelical Christian bosses find out. It’d be worth it though. Nothing more satisfying than taping branches to my arms and running around a stone circle counter-clockwise, my hands filled with the big red capital-L’s aflame.

The reason I have to take these holidays is that I work for Christians and they are obliged to be really very nice at all times. One benefit of this is that I get 25 holidays a year. Or 29. Or 33. Some large figure that is hard to take when you really like your job. I went to see a movie yesterday because the cinema is a place I can ignore people and my phone and pick my nose without anyone knowing it. Also, I like films. However I don’t like the film I saw yesterday. You, Me And Everyone We Know is a critically acclaimed debut by a triple-threat lady named after a summer month who wrote, directed and starred in the film. If only I had paid attention I might have discovered in advance that Miranda July wrote The Center of the World, one of the worst movies I have ever seen. The movie I watched yesterday was truly awful. Do you know Belle and Sebastian? This movie is like all the awful pretence of a B&S album without any of the Scottish song-merchants talent or ability.

I have a very good friend who is a lawyer from Caracas. Her husband is an economist from a beautiful island off the Venezuelan coast in the Atlantic. They are very amusing and astoundingly easy to spend huge amounts of time with. The most amusing thing you can do when around them is to bring up the controversial Venezuelan President Chavez. A, the economist with down-to-earth rural roots loves Chavez because he is trying to re-organise the economy so that it favours the average people of the country and encourages education and enterprise. M, the lawyer from the big-city with slightly less down-to-earth roots finds Chavez unbearable and she wins the argument because although she hasn’t got reasoned points and a large amount of data, she does gesticulate wildly while repeating again and again, “He is a monkey! He is a monkey! Look at him- he is a monkey!”

Sadly, M is now weirdly on the same side of the fence as crazy Pat Robertson. This ordained minister of the Southern Baptist church stood up for the teachings of his God on Monday. In Matthew 5:39, from the Sermon on the Mount, you can read Jesus teaching:

Is that going to get us anywhere? Here’s what I propose: “Don’t hit back at all.’ If someone strikes you, stand there and take it.

When Robertson tried to apply this teaching to the troublesome issue of a mischief loving, oil rich leader (not dictator) in a South American country who is dead-set on using his nation’s resources to the betterment of the people and not international corporate interests, he concludes:

We have the ability to take him out, and I think the time has come that we exercise that ability.

Yeah, you heard that right. Pat Robertson, a man famous as a Christian minister called on his government to assasinate the poor monkey-man leader of Venezuela. Marion Gordon Robertson, for that is his real name, you are a charlatan. By the way, he is worth $200 million, he supported the genuine dictator of Liberia, Charles Taylor, claimed that his pray directed the path of Hurricane Gloria in 1985 and blamed 9-11 on lesbians and feminists.

And here I was, wondering why more people aren’t Christians. Grr.

But there is this great article about movie flops you should see and I think you should read it.

I am preaching on Sunday at MCC. That should be crippilingly intimidating. If I get around to finishing my sermons (oh yeah you heard me right- shaking it up baby; sermonS plural) because I am busy reading everything Don Miller has ever written. His books are so good that I kind of dread letting you guys know he exists. I could just very easily pretend to be a genius by passing off his observations as my own. I urge you, go read a chapter of his.

Although there are many more things I’d love to talk to you about, I have to go have breakfast with Teragram. Days off are sweet.

Your Correspondent, He’s got a 4-letter word stuck in his head.

One Response to “Dallas Really Wasn’t Awfully Good”

  1. […] Finally, the worst movie I have seen this year beats back the fiercely disappointing Everything Is Illuminated and Gus Van Sant’s snooze fest Last Days and in its sheer pointlessness I question the sanity of the reviewers who acclaimed it around the world. I wrote about You, Me And Everyone We Know here so you don’t have to waste time on it. […]