Mary Magdalnes at the Christian Bookstore
Mr. Bir Toujour was watching "The Passion of Christ" (or is it "The Passion of the Christ"?) last night. I was skeptical after all of the bullshit hyp that surrounded the movie's release, churches buying blocks of tickets and conservative parents taking their young children to see ol' Jebus get flagellated. But Mr. Bir Toujour was curious about the film.
I watched some of the opening scenes while I ate a dish of cookies 'n' cream ice cream. There was a lot of fog, blue light, and panic/running/panting involved. It all looked like a bad recreation of Lothlorien to me. After a mere few minutes, I gave up and retreated to the bedroom to read Henry James' "Daisy Miller."
But I could still hear the movie going on, its melodramatic Aramaic spiels and cinematic score blaring on and on (try listening to a movie without watching it sometime; it's a pretty depressing exercise). When I first got wind of Mel Gibson's "Passion" project, I was in the Gibson corner. "All right," I thought: he was sticking to his guns and producing the thing very much without the blessing to the Hollywood establishment. And in a practically dead language! It sounded very cinema verite to me because of that. I imagined a real Jesus instead of a movie Jesus, who tends to resemble those airbrushed, Aryan soft-focus Jesus images on church programs and children's bible storybooks.
The movie is a wash, I think, though I'm not qualified to post such judgement as I only actually saw about three minutes of the thing. It's basically an overblown cinematic version of a passion play.
Besides, Gibson is full of shit. "The Passion" had way more merchandise tie-ins than the last "Shrek" installment. I know this because my friend Bryan and I went to a Christian bookstore once. It was just as the sun began to set, as we spotted some young girls in skimpy clothing loitering in the Christian bookstore's strip mall parking lot. "Whoa, check it out!" said Bryan. "Whores!"
I'd heard about prostitutes scoring dates on Santa Rosa Avenue, but I never saw any; I'd always figured they were the most bottom-rung prostitutes available--crack whores, basically, because Santa Rosa Avenue is one of the grossest places ever. But these girls were pretty and fashionably dressed. And it was so early. They strutted around half-heartedly in their platform sandals and kept checking their cell phones.
"Do you think they always hang out here?" I asked Bryan. "Is this their turf--the Christian bookstore parking lot?"
We decided to go into the store to kill some time and see where the girl were once we came out. I just read in Newsweek that Christian bookstores are taking a hit badly because so many larger-chain places like Barnes & Noble have eaten up their market by featuring Christian books. I guess that stinks for Christian stores, but from what I saw at the place with Bryan, so what? Man, it was depressing. For a bookstore, they sure didn't have many books. There were bookmarks, Christan comic action figures (including Bibleman), acid-washed denim Bible covers, lots of sloganeering sweatshirts, and a shitload of "VeggieTales" merchandise. I even saw fashionable purses with tiny "Jesus" emblems embroidered between the handles.
I don't get it. I think that being a good Christian comes down to what you do, not what you buy. You can wear a million WWJD charms, but if you're a shallow, narrow-minded person, it's all for shit. I tried to think of it from the Christian bookstore side as wearing a t-shirt with your favorite bands's logo. Like how I wear my Ramones t-shirt on special days when I need a lift. Being a Ramones fan is part of who I am; I almost feel like it's part of my beliefs system: support good, simple music that makes the world a better place by railing against what's bad about it while rejoycing in the good. But on days when I don't wear my Ramones shirt, I'm still the same person; I'm still a Ramones fan. I don't need to go to the Hot Topic store to solidify my devotion to the Ramones lifestyle. So I don't see how buying a Jesus purse makes you a better Christian, just as putting a yellow ribbon magent on your car does not make you more supportive of our soldiers in Iraq. It's all just stuff.
The books at the bookstore are interesting, too. Lots of pro-Bush titles, like "A Man of Faith: The Spiritual Journey of George W. Bush." I think that being a good Christian (or Jew or Muslim, for that matter) means staying on top of current events so that you can make your own judgements about how your faith is relevant to them. But it also means understanding what your faith is about in the first place, which is what academic texts are for. I saw none at the Christian bookstore.
I did, however, see lots of "Passion" merchandise. There was a lavish coffee table book, a "Passion" bookmark, and--best of all--a "Passion" nail. For $15, you, too, can buy a Mel Gibson-approved pewter nail on a cheap black leather thong. That $15 will rack in the royalties AND make sure you never forget that Jesus dies on a cross to forgive your sins.
Bryan bought me some presents at the bookstore: an "I (heart) Jesus" toothbrush cup, some "Jesus Loves Me" stickers, and a package of "D.O.G." (Depend on God) gumballs. Then we went back to my car and saw the young hookers at the other end of the parking lot. "Let's go talk to them," said Bryan, but he was kind of joking. I wanted to ask them if that was their turf, if they usually picked up johns in the Christian bookstore parking lot. I wonder what it's like to be a young prostitute. I wonder if they think that the commercialization of religion is as much of a crock as I do, or if they think of religion at all. I wouldn't if I were them.
I watched some of the opening scenes while I ate a dish of cookies 'n' cream ice cream. There was a lot of fog, blue light, and panic/running/panting involved. It all looked like a bad recreation of Lothlorien to me. After a mere few minutes, I gave up and retreated to the bedroom to read Henry James' "Daisy Miller."
But I could still hear the movie going on, its melodramatic Aramaic spiels and cinematic score blaring on and on (try listening to a movie without watching it sometime; it's a pretty depressing exercise). When I first got wind of Mel Gibson's "Passion" project, I was in the Gibson corner. "All right," I thought: he was sticking to his guns and producing the thing very much without the blessing to the Hollywood establishment. And in a practically dead language! It sounded very cinema verite to me because of that. I imagined a real Jesus instead of a movie Jesus, who tends to resemble those airbrushed, Aryan soft-focus Jesus images on church programs and children's bible storybooks.
The movie is a wash, I think, though I'm not qualified to post such judgement as I only actually saw about three minutes of the thing. It's basically an overblown cinematic version of a passion play.
Besides, Gibson is full of shit. "The Passion" had way more merchandise tie-ins than the last "Shrek" installment. I know this because my friend Bryan and I went to a Christian bookstore once. It was just as the sun began to set, as we spotted some young girls in skimpy clothing loitering in the Christian bookstore's strip mall parking lot. "Whoa, check it out!" said Bryan. "Whores!"
I'd heard about prostitutes scoring dates on Santa Rosa Avenue, but I never saw any; I'd always figured they were the most bottom-rung prostitutes available--crack whores, basically, because Santa Rosa Avenue is one of the grossest places ever. But these girls were pretty and fashionably dressed. And it was so early. They strutted around half-heartedly in their platform sandals and kept checking their cell phones.
"Do you think they always hang out here?" I asked Bryan. "Is this their turf--the Christian bookstore parking lot?"
We decided to go into the store to kill some time and see where the girl were once we came out. I just read in Newsweek that Christian bookstores are taking a hit badly because so many larger-chain places like Barnes & Noble have eaten up their market by featuring Christian books. I guess that stinks for Christian stores, but from what I saw at the place with Bryan, so what? Man, it was depressing. For a bookstore, they sure didn't have many books. There were bookmarks, Christan comic action figures (including Bibleman), acid-washed denim Bible covers, lots of sloganeering sweatshirts, and a shitload of "VeggieTales" merchandise. I even saw fashionable purses with tiny "Jesus" emblems embroidered between the handles.
I don't get it. I think that being a good Christian comes down to what you do, not what you buy. You can wear a million WWJD charms, but if you're a shallow, narrow-minded person, it's all for shit. I tried to think of it from the Christian bookstore side as wearing a t-shirt with your favorite bands's logo. Like how I wear my Ramones t-shirt on special days when I need a lift. Being a Ramones fan is part of who I am; I almost feel like it's part of my beliefs system: support good, simple music that makes the world a better place by railing against what's bad about it while rejoycing in the good. But on days when I don't wear my Ramones shirt, I'm still the same person; I'm still a Ramones fan. I don't need to go to the Hot Topic store to solidify my devotion to the Ramones lifestyle. So I don't see how buying a Jesus purse makes you a better Christian, just as putting a yellow ribbon magent on your car does not make you more supportive of our soldiers in Iraq. It's all just stuff.
The books at the bookstore are interesting, too. Lots of pro-Bush titles, like "A Man of Faith: The Spiritual Journey of George W. Bush." I think that being a good Christian (or Jew or Muslim, for that matter) means staying on top of current events so that you can make your own judgements about how your faith is relevant to them. But it also means understanding what your faith is about in the first place, which is what academic texts are for. I saw none at the Christian bookstore.
I did, however, see lots of "Passion" merchandise. There was a lavish coffee table book, a "Passion" bookmark, and--best of all--a "Passion" nail. For $15, you, too, can buy a Mel Gibson-approved pewter nail on a cheap black leather thong. That $15 will rack in the royalties AND make sure you never forget that Jesus dies on a cross to forgive your sins.
Bryan bought me some presents at the bookstore: an "I (heart) Jesus" toothbrush cup, some "Jesus Loves Me" stickers, and a package of "D.O.G." (Depend on God) gumballs. Then we went back to my car and saw the young hookers at the other end of the parking lot. "Let's go talk to them," said Bryan, but he was kind of joking. I wanted to ask them if that was their turf, if they usually picked up johns in the Christian bookstore parking lot. I wonder what it's like to be a young prostitute. I wonder if they think that the commercialization of religion is as much of a crock as I do, or if they think of religion at all. I wouldn't if I were them.
posted by Lefty at 2:31 PM
2 Comments:
chistians generally aren't critical thinkers and have no idea the subject of theology exists. they suffer from group-think and no matter how many sunday school sessions they attend they still reall don't know anything about the religion they profess to believe in. it's all pretty strange to me. i would expect them to really study up on a religion but i guess they are content to listen to Stryper and bomb planned parenthood clinics. whatever. i seriously doubt they'd ever find a copy of the apocrypha at that SR ave bookstore, which one is it, InterFaith... i forget. that would be one hell of a text for them to get their grubby jeesus lovin' hands on.
keep Ben Octagon away from those harlots. he'll try to touch 'em or sumthin'.
Ha! I saw you in Lancaster, CA attending the traditionalist 'Church of Christ'. You can't hide your religion from me, Christian, I've got yr number. Bob Biggers will be makin' his way to your part of town soon, you better repent, or parish like the skanky whores of the Santa Rosa Christian Bookstore.
Just kidding.
Eh!
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