I was going through some old papers yesterday, and found this little song I made up years ago. Probably the only truly great thing I've ever written. If you feel so disposed, you can sing it to the tune of "If you're happy and you know it".
This is all you need to make your life complete!
Even though it doesn't work it's really neat!
See, it's packaged so inviting,
Don't those colors look exciting?
And that price you thought so fright'ning
Can't be beat!
20 October 2008
11 October 2008
batman-inspired bunny trails
It's too bad Batman is a fictional character, because if he was real, I think I could tell him why he has such a hard time keeping Gotham City clean. Actually, it would be sort of nice if Batman were real even if I didn't have anything especially relevant to say to him. If there's one thing this world needs more of, it would have to be young multimillionaires who dress up as large, black bats at night and chase criminals in and out of dark alleys and parking lots. There's always room on the streets for another batmobile or two.
I have singled out Batman in spite of the fact that I would tend to like Spiderman better. This is because, while other superheroes (like Superman and Spidey) exist primarily to protect the largely innocent population from outlandishly ugly and outrageously evil supervillains who periodically crawl out of the woodwork, Batman tends to fight general corruption (along with the inevitable supervillain). He finds himself very much alone and, like Athanasius, "against the world". (I think the parallel with Athanasius ends there, though.) The city is so thoroughly riddled with crime, apathy, and despair that it often seems that Batman and one or two minimally influential cohorts are the only "good guys" in the whole place. Gotham City's problems are such that the death of the villain alone is always an insufficient remedy. Of course it helps, if only because there will be fewer exploding skyscrapers and chaotic car chases for awhile; but it does little to actually cure anything. The poison reaches too deep.
Batman's problem, as I see it, is that he fights an internal disease with external antidotes. Certainly it is noble to rid the community, whenever possible, of otherwise unchallenged drug lords and other deranged criminal masterminds. I'm not saying that doesn't need to be done; it does. But that's only the beginning of the cure. Batman fails because he assumes that, once there are no more slavering, clown-faced maniacs wandering the streets, the general population will be free to unleash its dormant goodness, and the inherent virtue of mankind will win the day.
Unfortunately for Batman (and the rest of us), that's not how it works. After all the stray supervillains have been rounded up and disposed of (though there seems to be an endless supply of them in most superhero-inhabited realms), the deep-rooted corruption of every man, woman, and child alive still remains; and it won't heal itself. People need more than slightly-less-dark; they need light. By itself, the eradication of lies isn't enough; it has to be replaced with the truth. Crime is only a symptom; the real disease is in our hearts. The people of Gotham City need the gospel.
As it happens, the real world needs the gospel, too. I think we make a mistake when we start to think some kind of salvation can be found if we just reform our national and global political systems. This isn't to say that the government doesn't need reforming--it does, rather desperately, and working toward such reform is a worthy and honorable endeavor (when pursued for the right reasons, of course). But the government got into its current quagmire because of a deeper, darker problem in the hearts of the people who voted it into existence. And unless we pull out the weed by its roots, it will only come back, stronger than ever.
The other side of the same coin is that only the Holy Spirit can breathe life into the dead souls of men. Without His power, no amount of begging, pleading, lecturing, preaching, reasoning, or discussing will do any good at all. At the same time, when God wills that one of His elect be saved, He can use the strangest (and often even the weakest) means to bring it to pass. In short, whichever direction you go, it's beyond our control. Perhaps this seems rather discouraging and hopeless. Actually, though, it is the height of glory, and a hope beyond imagination. God is in absolute control, and He works all things for the glory of His name and the good of His people. It is not our burden to determine the path of history; we have only to give our best effort to the tasks laid out before us, whatever and wherever they may be, and God will take care of the rest.
So whether America rises again or falls at last into darkness, whether Batman ever finally succeeds in securing tranquility for Gotham City, we can rest with perfect confidence in the providence and omnipotence of God. Someday we'll see the whole story, and our small part in it will finally make sense.
In the meantime, we have work to do.
I have singled out Batman in spite of the fact that I would tend to like Spiderman better. This is because, while other superheroes (like Superman and Spidey) exist primarily to protect the largely innocent population from outlandishly ugly and outrageously evil supervillains who periodically crawl out of the woodwork, Batman tends to fight general corruption (along with the inevitable supervillain). He finds himself very much alone and, like Athanasius, "against the world". (I think the parallel with Athanasius ends there, though.) The city is so thoroughly riddled with crime, apathy, and despair that it often seems that Batman and one or two minimally influential cohorts are the only "good guys" in the whole place. Gotham City's problems are such that the death of the villain alone is always an insufficient remedy. Of course it helps, if only because there will be fewer exploding skyscrapers and chaotic car chases for awhile; but it does little to actually cure anything. The poison reaches too deep.
Batman's problem, as I see it, is that he fights an internal disease with external antidotes. Certainly it is noble to rid the community, whenever possible, of otherwise unchallenged drug lords and other deranged criminal masterminds. I'm not saying that doesn't need to be done; it does. But that's only the beginning of the cure. Batman fails because he assumes that, once there are no more slavering, clown-faced maniacs wandering the streets, the general population will be free to unleash its dormant goodness, and the inherent virtue of mankind will win the day.
Unfortunately for Batman (and the rest of us), that's not how it works. After all the stray supervillains have been rounded up and disposed of (though there seems to be an endless supply of them in most superhero-inhabited realms), the deep-rooted corruption of every man, woman, and child alive still remains; and it won't heal itself. People need more than slightly-less-dark; they need light. By itself, the eradication of lies isn't enough; it has to be replaced with the truth. Crime is only a symptom; the real disease is in our hearts. The people of Gotham City need the gospel.
As it happens, the real world needs the gospel, too. I think we make a mistake when we start to think some kind of salvation can be found if we just reform our national and global political systems. This isn't to say that the government doesn't need reforming--it does, rather desperately, and working toward such reform is a worthy and honorable endeavor (when pursued for the right reasons, of course). But the government got into its current quagmire because of a deeper, darker problem in the hearts of the people who voted it into existence. And unless we pull out the weed by its roots, it will only come back, stronger than ever.
The other side of the same coin is that only the Holy Spirit can breathe life into the dead souls of men. Without His power, no amount of begging, pleading, lecturing, preaching, reasoning, or discussing will do any good at all. At the same time, when God wills that one of His elect be saved, He can use the strangest (and often even the weakest) means to bring it to pass. In short, whichever direction you go, it's beyond our control. Perhaps this seems rather discouraging and hopeless. Actually, though, it is the height of glory, and a hope beyond imagination. God is in absolute control, and He works all things for the glory of His name and the good of His people. It is not our burden to determine the path of history; we have only to give our best effort to the tasks laid out before us, whatever and wherever they may be, and God will take care of the rest.
So whether America rises again or falls at last into darkness, whether Batman ever finally succeeds in securing tranquility for Gotham City, we can rest with perfect confidence in the providence and omnipotence of God. Someday we'll see the whole story, and our small part in it will finally make sense.
In the meantime, we have work to do.
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