The Strain by Del Toro and Hogan

The Strain by Guillermo Del Toro

My review

Rating: 3 of 5 stars
Nothing exciting here. Just a book about vampire/zombies. Features elements of familiar works like DRACULA, I AM LEGEND, and any vampire work that features vampire clans. This book is in the "beach read" format, heavy emphasis on plot and less focus on theme development. I like that the setting brings the events of 9/11 to mind. It begins with the "death" of all the passengers on a commercial jet, and some of the plot takes place in the subway system beneath the WTC site. I also liked the flashbacks to the Holocaust. I'll read the next two installments, but I'll probably wait until 2011, when the last one is released. I'm in no big hurry to find out what happens next.


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Who Cares About the History of Papal Authority?

Finding the truth is a difficult and time-consuming endeavor. As I'm slowly reading Keith Mathison's The Shape of Sola Scriptura (2001) I decided to research his claim that Pope Gregory I (r. 590-604) believed that he and five other bishops (of Alexandria, Constantinople, Antioch, and Jerusalem) were on "equal footing as regional heads of the Church, with none exercising universal jurisdiction" (54). Mathison purposes to show his audience that papal authority in its present form slowly developed over time through political turmoil and religious upheaval, and that as early as the 6th century, the Pope's authority and power were not as strong as later periods in history.

I found these words from Gregory I:

"I confidently say that whosoever calls himself, or desires to be called Universal Priest, is in his elation the precursor of the Antichrist, because he proudly puts himself above all others" (Book VII.33).

I learned that these words are Protestant proof-texts against strong papal authority as a historical reality. But Catholics claim that Protestants are misunderstanding Gregory's intent, that when Gregory uses the term "Universal Priest" he is referring to the claim of SOLE authority that some patriarchs desired.

I also learned that Gregory I said other interesting things. Like the following:

"I, albeit unworthy, have been set up in command of the Church" (Book V.44)

"As regards the Church of Constantinople, who can doubt that it is subject to the Apostolic See? Why, both our most religious Lord the Emperor and our brother the Bishop of Constantinople continually acknowledge it" (Book IX.26).

As you can tell, these words operate as Catholic proof texts.

Did Gregory believe that he was on "equal footing" with the other bishops? Is Mathison right to say that Pope Gregory believed that he did not hold "universal jurisdiction"? In order to find the truth in this matter, one must be willing to read texts for hours. One would have to spend time reading through hundreds of Pope Gregory's epistles and attempt to understand the context of each. The average guy does not have time to do this. The average guy is probably going to trust the scholar from whichever tradition he aligns himself with.

But for an average guy, I've already spent WAY too much time thinking about this issue -- an issue that holds zero relevance to my life. For even if papal authority COULD be traced back to the 1st century, I would STILL ignore it. Researching this claim has merely validated my belief that truth is in the depths and tradition and bias are probably the bedrock of most people's beliefs, regardless of the scholarship backing their argument. We can all choose a scholar to meet the demands of our argument, can't we?

Source Consulted: http://www.bringyou.to/apologetics/num7.htm

Inescapably Aloof

I think church services are probably the most awkward social gatherings ever devised. I've been attending church for nine years, and I still want to arrive late and leave early in order to avoid following the social conventions required to engage in meaningless small talk where I tell people where I work and the age of my kids. ("How old is she?" "Three." "They sure grow up fast, don't they?") Last night's social encounter trumped the church service. I went to a Tiger Cult Church Social, which in itself is pretty awkward for one who generally dreads sitting in living rooms with people whom I share no common interests with for two hours. Here's what made last night's gathering such a disaster for me:

My wife, knowing that I would rather be driving in my car listening to music instead of zoning out in front of the College World Series, was thrilled when I offered to drive into town to pick up the pizza from Papa John's. Our hostess, apparently not wanting to burden me, thought that my wife should pick up the pizza. My wife whispered to our hostess, "It's okay. He doesn't do well with social gatherings." That's when our hostess decided to immediately tell everyone at the gathering my disposition toward the gathering. You would think that the "since you don't do well at social gatherings" jokes that followed would have helped me to become more comfortable, but I think they had the opposite effect. Although I couldn't wait to leave, my wife seemed to be enjoying herself, and I didn't want to ruin her time. But when my wife asked, "You ready?" my shouts of relief, had I vocalized them, would have drowned out the living room chanting of any Tiger Cult Ceremony ("Woo Hoo!") taking place within the LSU Parish (ecclesiastically speaking) at that time.

Strained Metaphors

Finishing a Gregory Maguire book and beginning another book is sort of like sliding down the world's largest water slide and afterwards sitting in a kiddie pool in your own yard -- the experience is not quite the same. I read Stephanie Meyer's New Moon after reading Wicked -- big mistake for Meyer (like it's her fault, right?), whose writing felt as bad as mine. I'm afraid that I'm once again splashing myself with water and grass clippings (inevitable kiddie pool decorum). I finished Maguire's A Lion Among Men and began The Strain by Guillermo Del Toro and Chuck Hogan. Even though I've only read the first forty pages, I'm wondering if purchasing a book co-written by a guy who creates awesome creatures in his movies was a wise choice (Check out Pan's Labyrinth and the Hellboy films -- some of the scenes in Hellboy 2 will make you feel like you're back in the Mos Eisly Cantina). I can tell that at best, The Strain will keep me turning the pages with an interesting plot and readable characters, but I doubt that Del Toro's magic will translate as well through Hogan's pen (assuming that Del Toro is responsible for the ideas and Hogan is responsible for the writing style). I leave with you a couple of jewels from The Strain:

"That was when his mobile phone started vibrating, skittering up against the take-out cartons like a hungry silver beetle" (33).

Nothing makes me feel like I'm there like a hungry beetle reference. Unfortunately, Ephraim Goodweather's cell phone vibrates again:

"Eph's mobile started vibrating again, crabbing across the tabletop like the chattering gag teeth his uncles used to give him for Christmas" (34).

Not as bad as the first but just as unnecessary. But before I start feeling hypocritical and self-conscious about my own crappy water slide metaphor, I better stop picking on Del Toro and Hogan -- this book could still be an amazing read.

Celebrating Diversity

Guys like cars and motorcycles. My love for good literature and Tori Amos albums surpasses my love for fast mechanical vehicles. I am just as thrilled driving 30 MPH as I am driving 75 MPH. I am just as thrilled riding a bicycle as I am riding an ATV. I find that the only difference between these various modes and speeds is the noise of the vehicle's engine and the force of the wind against my face, respectively. But if you were spying on me yesterday, you would have thought that I was a real guy -- speeding through Kenny's (my cousin-in-law) field atop a blue four-wheeler. Not just a four-wheeler -- a four-wheeler with pipes, a lift kit, and breathing tubes for underwater travel (I'm told that they're called snorkelers.). Yes, at any moment I fully expected this car-sized, diabolic machine to transform back into its robot form, throw me across the family road, and continue its search for the All Spark. As I was riding alone (before I became the kids' carnival attraction), I felt joy. I wasn't particularly thrilled at the sound of the obnoxious pipes or the sensation of the wind rushing past my ears. I think I felt a tinge of joy because I was interrupting the monotony of the daily mundane with a new and different experience. So I blog this post in the name of diversity -- the diversity of experiences, and I offer this blog post as proof that a straight man can retain his sexuality while listening to Tori Amos and celebrating diversity.

Best Buy Wikixperience

We should have known better than to trust Rachel Munoz from McAllen, Texas. Our camera broke a few months ago. Our frail memories need pictures to prove to us that the past may have existed, so we headed to Best Buy yesterday to shop for the Rebel Canon XS. Since Rachel told us on the commercial that we should buy our electronics from Best Buy if we wanted knowledgeable advice, we fully expected a Wikixperience. To our disappointment, the guy with the sombrero working in the camera section sweated at our questions like a preacher trying to explain the doctrine of election to the bereaved mother of a dead heathen son. "Uh ... I'm not sure exactly what cameras actually do ... my manager JUST went to lunch, and I'm not sure when she'll be back," he said. We were disillusioned. I felt like I was standing in Home Depot, a hardware store notorious for hiring guys like me -- guys without a single callous on their hands. We felt like Rachel Munoz was merely another innocent victim of corporate mirroring, whoring herself to consumers in Best Buy's attempt to pimp-slap Wal-mart. Fortunately, my over-the-top and uncalled for metaphors began to crumble when this bald BB sales associate, who claimed to know enough about cameras to be dangerous (his words), pushed away the guy in the sombrero and gave us the Wikixperience that Munoz promised. He even told us to wait until next week to buy our camera, for they will sell them at 18 months no interest!! Thank you, Best Buy. I'm sorry I lost hope ... for those three minutes with sombrero guy (I'm still not sure why this twentysomething white guy was wearing a sombrero.).

Son of a Witch

Son of a Witch: A Novel by Gregory Maguire

My review

rating: 5 of 5 stars

What an amazing writer! Definitely not an uplifting writer, but the man is a wordsmith who has revised and created a fascinating, macabre landscape.

In SON his main character Liir plays the existential hero (if there's a such thing) trying to define himself and carve some type of legacy in the absurdity that is Oz. Whereas WICKED was a more religious bildungsroman, SON seems more philosophical. I sense Jean Paul Sartre's inspiration (or uninspiration -- I don't find Sartre too terribly inspiring) in these pages (existence precedes essence).

Lots of bizarre characters and symbolism (like in WICKED). SON is more cohesive than WICKED, for instead of dedicating each chapter to key stages in Liir's life (like he did with Elphaba), Maguire compacts the story, adding a sense of connection that WICKED lacked.

SPOILERS FOLLOW: I didn't leave the book with as many questions as I had after reading WICKED, but I am wondering about the necessity of the singing scraped faces. I know that they are symbolic of the importance of remembering the past (as is the drawing of Nor and the broom and cape) but why such a twisted and disturbing ceremony? Also, at one point in the novel, Liir rises above his own body. I took this as his soul or spirit, something that Elphaba yearned for but never had. Am I right? I hope to post some more thoughts connecting Sartre to Liir, but that's for another time.



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