Attention Grammar Police!

If you should find offenses to the English language in any of my articles please leave a comment and let me know so that I can obliterate it forever! Thanks!

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

A Message from Planet Me

I've been pretty stoked with all you faithful "come along every dayers", who have checked on this blog space out of curiosity or the opposite of contempt to read me musings...

This week you may have noticed the rapid decline in my prolificy but rest assured its not due to lack of topics or inspiration but rather to my trying to organise my priorities in such a way that I am not burning the candle from the middle as well as at both ends!

I will now restrict my posts to night's before a day off which are every second Wednesday and Thursday and every alternating Friday... occasionally I might be able to squeeze a few more in but I found that I became a man obsessed with posting blogs at whatever cost, which usually involved me falling asleep on the couch, work or while driving... plus I have some serious study commitments this year and had been neglecting them...

But I am still committed to this site and have a great deal many more delightful bits and pieces to post before Google bans me blurbs forever!

Which has never been an issue....

So if you're new to this mayhem and aren't familiar with my emerging "Kulture" I will usually write Humour and Film reviews but if any reader throws a question my way I will endeavor to throw an answer back at them so feel free to write to me on if you dare...

Stay sane and keep tunin in...


P.S. In the meantime here is a picture of me babysitting at great personal cost to my dignity and face. What you are seeing is my daughter's way of saying, "Stop rocking me daddy!" and I can tell you now, it felt like the wet end of a swift tea towel hitting my right cheek, barely missing my eye. I cried out for my wife, but rather than flying to my aide, she took the opportunity to photograph my baby sitting skills before handing me the tissues...

Joseph - King of Dreams - A Review

Joseph - King of Dreams

I recently raided my nieces DVD collection and discovered a little Dream Works treat that didn't involve cross dressing fairy tale characters and big green ogres preaching the feel good PC gospel of tolerance and the message of "its ok to be a freak if it makes you feel good" for a change!

The movie - Joseph King of Dreams, and we sat ourselves down for an evening of entertaining cartoonery. Joseph, as you should know, is the prequel to Moses - Prince of Egypt and tells the story of how the Israelites came to live in Egypt before they became the slaves of the Exodus. The original story of Joseph can be found of course in Genesis Chapter 37 and onwards. It is one of the most riveting and movie worthy stories of the Bible. Why this story has only warranted an animated feature and an Andrew Lloyd Webber Musical is way beyond me, it's replete with Jealousy, favouritism, betrayal, temptation... there are even cool things like Dream Interpretation and mistaken identity... Shakespeare himself couldn't have designed a better plot! But of course he couldn't, because the truth is always more exciting than fiction, especially when its biblical truth!
Joseph was the firstborn son of Rachel, Jacob's other wife and as such was treated more favorably than his 10 other brothers. His special treatment, prophetic dreams and fashionable coat cause his brother's to gang up on the lad and sell him to some Ishmaelites as a slave while taking his goat-blood stained coat back to their father and telling him his favourite son had been eaten by some feroxious animal. Meanwhile Joseph is sold as a slave to Potiphar, the Captain of Pharaoh's guard where he excels to the rank of chief slave. Things are looking up for the dashing young Hebrew when Potiphar's wife takes more than a liking to him and tries to entice him into some extra marital misgiving, but he is resolute and flees the crazed women, only to be framed for her rape and is thrown into prison for his trouble. However not even prison can keep him down as he becomes the most trusted of all the prisoners and eventually uses his gift of interpreting dreams to help a baker and a cup-bearer who have fallen from Pharaoh's favour. This, eventually, leads to his interpreting the king's dream, predicting a seven year famine and his clever advice on how to stave off its deadly effects puts him in the role of the second most powerful man in Egypt. The famine hits and thanks to Joseph the Egyptians are ready for it and as starvation spreads across to distant lands his own treacherous brothers come to seek his aide not realising that their saviour is in fact their long lost brother...

Its so good infact that I'm going to give you a link to the real story! Genesis Chapters 37-46
King of Dreams left much to be desired as far as grandeur and believability are concerned. Its not even worth comparing to Prince of Egypt which had me crying, and still does, during the burning bush sequence and goose bumped when the Red Sea parts, there's a flash of lightening and a whale is seen behind the wall of congealed sea! Not this movie. the songs were just bad enough for me to be able to leave the room and fetch a cup of tea and some of my mother's home cooking in time to hear the last boring bars of some easy listening song tailored to somehow fit a story that had been watered down for not just a young audience but a biblically illiterate one at that.

Most people today still think that Joseph's so called Amazing technicoloured dream coat is a biblical fact - but it doesn't say anywhere in Genesis that his coat was rainbowesque but rather richly ornamented. This film, I fear will leave your children with a distorted view of the story than what color his clothes were!

For a start Leah is missing, the unloved wife who bore most of Jacob's sons... I guess the producers felt the concept of polygamy too much for a 6-10 year olds but the fact is its in the Bible so why leave it out? Especially since it explains why Joseph was treated like a First Born - because in a way, in Jacob's eyes, he was the first born son to his legitimate wife, the one He wasn't tricked into marrying! But that's not all. When Joseph has his dreams where the son and the moon are bowing down before him Jacob doesn't tell him off as the biblical account says, but rather he is encouraged! I could do this all night so here is a quick list of all the deviations from the actual story that I could count:
- the movie uses creative licence to suggest Joseph studied while his brother's kept the herds and flocks.

- it seemed to suggest Judah was the oldest son, though not blatantly.

- I can't remember if Reuben sticks up for Joseph when they sell him off as a slave

- they had Joseph interpreting the prisoners dreams on his first night as a prisoner

- in this "version" (which I prefer to call a heresy) they had the baker act like a skeptic and rather than be eager to get an interpretation from Joseph because the cup bearer's was so ideal made him act like he was just testing Joseph's ability

- An interesting thing was they suggested Potiphera's daughter, whom Joseph married, was Potiphar's daughter/niece and then also used some creative licence to suggest that Potiphar knew his wife was at fault and his sending Joseph to jail was a matter of Honor rather than justice.

- the story implies Joseph's reason for wanting Benjamin was because he thought his brother's were lying about having a younger son, mistaking their references to Benjamin for himself

- When Joseph meets his bros after so many years they have Benjamin tell him the story of how they used to be 12 brother's until Joseph became no more and not Judah!

- Joseph doesn't speak through an interpreter which was a crucial part of the true account

- he didn't order them at the dinner table according to their age

- and worst of all Judah says that Gd intended it ll afor good and NOT Joseph!

In fact the only thing I was most happy with was the fact they got Jacob's aged appearance right, given the fact that he was in his 70's when he went to work for his uncle Laban.

I know, I know, I'm being super harsh, after all it is just a kiddies movie right? Yeah, i guess but why change an already fantastic story, even so slightly? My real beef with it though is that a lot of well meaning Christian parents are going to plonk their kids in front of this movie expecting it to teach them something about the Bible but not take the time to correct the mistakes or actually read the original account to them. The result being a generation of nominal believers whose biblical knowledge has been skewered to the point where the best they will be able to do is pass a Facebook "How Well Do You Know Your Bible?" test! We have to be careful to make sure the truth is being communicated to our children with integrity and accuracy - ESPECIALLY IN THESE LAST DAYS!

So having said that let's see what an actual real life 8 year old child had to say about this film.

Me: what didn't you like about this movie?

Niece: Some parts were wrong about it and um, they should say the real things how they happened.

Me: What was wrong with it?

Niece: It was a little bit wrong, I noticed...

She started getting things out of my parents draws here, as we conducted the interview in my mother's bedroom. She grabbed her Pa's tie and a coin and said something about a bull that got smacked or something extremely 8 year oldish I couldn't quite make out!

She continues...

Niece: ...and they changed in the movie the lady he married, but the other lady had a different hair style and a different face.

Me: What was your favourite part?

Niece: When Joseph got to see his family!

Me: What was your least favourite part?

Niece: I have to say when the brother's weren't very nice chucking him down the well

Me: What did you learn from this film?

Niece: (shrugs shoulders, purses her lips) I don't know.... that God can make miracles?

And indeed He can, and He does... and it would take a great miracle for me to give it more than a 3 out of 10 of entertainment and biblical integrity.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Modern Day Christianity and the Absence of Miracles

I was recently humbled when someone wrote to me the below question and I said, "Sure! I'll get right on it!"

That was two weeks ago. I've been procrastinating...

The question was:

Why is it that in the christian church do you have such a lack of the power of the Holy Spirit?I know people hear from God and sometimes here and there people get healed but I mean, what happened to people raising the dead and wicked signs and wonders we can show off to non-believers... has the Devil been trying to snuff out that power in the church?Or do people just not want all that weird stuff happening to them? Why is there such a small amount of the Holy Spirits power in the church?And what to do about it?

So not being in any way an authority on the matter here is my attempt at an answer...

One passage of Scripture that really jumped out at me when I was thinking about this was from 2 Timothy 3:1-6:

1But mark this: There will be terrible times in the last days. 2People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, 3without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, 4treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God— 5having a form of godliness but denying its power.

I may be taking it way out of context but I believe we are in the last days (or might as well be) and we see in the majority of churches in the west a gross embracing of materialism, new age rubbish and a form of powerless godliness. Just an observation.

If you take the letters to the seven Churches in the beginning of the book of Revelation as letters to seven periods of Church History as I do, then we are moving into the Laodician Period of Apostasy where most of the "Church" says, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.' But they do not realize that they are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked... (Revelations 3:17)

My hunch is the problem we have in the Western Church is the same problem Jesus experienced when he went to his home town and because the people "knew" Jesus as the Carpenter's son and the son of Mary they refused to accept him for who he really was - the Son of God.

Romans 10:17 says that faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word of Christ. I fear that the vast majority of Christians today do not have miracle working faith because they do not know the Word.

The Bible is like an instruction manual that tells you what you can and can't do with a product. If I had never ever used a hair dryer or even knew what one was I could be forgiven for mistaking it to be some kind of toy gun until I read the instructions to see that I am meant to plug it into the wall first. The same rule applies here - once we know what the Bible actually says about what we are capable of doing in Christ then we can move mountains; but until then we might as well be toy guns! You can not make a nuclear bomb without knowledge of Nuclear Physics; so you can not work miracles without a true knowledge of the God who is there through his Word!

So poor teaching has a lot to do with it. Imagine entire congregations out there led by pastors/priests who themselves don't believe in miracles or who teach that when the Bible talks about healing it really means "spiritual healing" and the best you can look forward to is a comfy disease free life in heaven but down here you will have Hell to pay... its disgraceful.

Its worth a mention that with regards to the miracles Jesus himself performed we have to remember that some of them were specifically designed to show the disciples and Israel that he was who he claimed to be. Some examples are when Jesus calmed the storm, the Biblically literate Disciples must have been reminded of Psalms 89:9:

"You Rule over the surging sea;
when its waves mount up,
you still them."

or how about this one from Psalm 107:28, 29

Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble,
and he brought them out of their distress.
He stilled the storm to a whisper;
the waves of the sea were hushed.

When Jesus walked on the water it must have echoed Genesis 1:2 when the Spirit of God hovered over the waters... no wonder the disciples were so ready with their worship of the Lord...

But Miracles weren't just for Jesus' day and Miracles do in fact happen today, we just seem to be blinded to them. I think my reader is right in suggesting that the Devil is trying to stamp Miracles out, but rather it is the knowledge of their happening that is being stamped at. This is still Cosmos Diabolicus - The Devil's World. His aim is to take down as many non-believers as he can when he is cast into his eternal punishment, so now he is systematically trying to keep people unaware of the many miracles that are wrought in the name of Christ around the World on what I suspect is a daily basis.

I remember it like yesterday, when as a young teenager I heard on the news a story about a boy who had been miraculously cured of the Aids Virus, "The Parents said it was a miracle". I watched in fascination as the news Reader promised to keep us up to date with this amazing story but then as the weeks went by nothing was ever mentioned about this seemingly historic event. Why? Because the parents acknowledged the miraculous and the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms squashed the story before it could be perpetuated any more.

Instead the enemy will permeate the news with stories of priests accused of indiscretions with choir boys or TV evangelists wanted for fraud while the real good guys are left in the side lines with no public notice.

Off the top of my head here are some examples of miracles that I am aware of...

When I was 17 I was attending a children's camp where one of the other counsellors had hurt the ligaments in his knee. He had been complaining about it for over several days when finally after a meeting he asked me to pray for it. I placed my hand over his knee cap and prayed a simple prayer, something to the effect of "Dear Lord, please heal this knee in Jesus' name, Amen" - and I kid you not, I felt a popping sensation under the palm of my hand as something happened... I don't know what exactly but his knee was healed after that night.

I listen to a southern style preacher called Andrew Wommack who tells the story of when his youngest son died of a drug over dose and six hours later, after a lot of prayer and thanksgiving on Andrew's part, his son sat up in the morgue completely recovered, and alive! I forget the exact source but here is a link to his audio teaching if you want to check it out...

The late Roger Price of the Chichester Christian fellowship tells the story of when he was at University and was speaking in tongues in his dorm room during a private time of prayer and devotion to God. Later he went to do his washing in the communal laundry where he was cornered by a neighboring student who demanded to know where the Sudanese man who had been in Roger's room was. Of course, there had been no Sudanese man in Roger's room, it had just been him speaking in tongues and this other student had miraculously heard the story of Jesus Christ's death and resurrection in his own language - a language Roger had never learnt.

I read an outstanding book called the Divinity Code recently where Ian Wishart provides documented evidence of people who were miraculously healed from impossibly incurable diseases like advanced leukemia and even cerebral palsy. I highly recommend it if you're after a good read...

So I guess my challenge to anyone who has complained about the lack of the miraculous is this - start taking the promises found in God's Word seriously! Take Mark 16:15-18 for example:

He said to them, "Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation. 16Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned. 17And these signs will accompany those who believe: In my name they will drive out demons; they will speak in new tongues; 18they will pick up snakes with their hands; and when they drink deadly poison, it will not hurt them at all; they will place their hands on sick people, and they will get well."

I guess the challenge is really for me as well... don't let your experience of Christianity be a matter of singing in a pew or intellectually cutting and pasting Bible Verses together in your brain. Don't let your relationship with Christ come down to whether or not you got your five minute devotional in this morning or whether you got the latest Christian hit single. Rather get out there and lay your hands on someone and tell this mountain to move from here to there and IT WILL BE DONE...

P.S. It occurs to me that I didn't address the issue of the Holy Spirit in this response but given the Holy Spirit dwells inside us (1 Corinthians 6:19) then let that knowledge alone be enough to propel you into knowing that miracles can be wrought through you because God himself lives inside you, this should be elementary but for some reason we're just not getting it...

Monday, August 17, 2009

A is for Abortion

I have a particular friend who wears her heart on her sleeve, and as you can imagine a heart on a sleeve can sometimes raise a few eye brows. A few months ago, while both her and my wife were expecting their first babies, my friend posted a pro life article on her Facebook. Fair enough, one would think, after all, I’m pro her choice to believe in such a thing; the fact I happen to be pro life myself doesn’t fact either, even if I was “pro choice”, I would think that surely I would still support a pro lifers’ choice to disagree?

Apparently not.

The fervent protest s against her post was extreme and intense. Never before, on something as trivial as Facebook, had I seen an instant out pouring of pseudo-moralistic passion. Pro-choicers on the left of me, Pro-lifer’s with me on the right; but the curious thing was the loaded cannons were on the left had, ready, aimed and firing.

While we on the right were concerned about the lack of choice of the unborn, all the protestors were concerned with were bullets made from “It’s my body!” Peow! “What about 12 year olds who get raped and fall pregnant?” Bang! And my personal favourite, “Stop judging me!” Ouch!

That last one is enough to make one bleed to death with frustration. No one was judging anyone! An action was being judged. A moral standard was being scrutinized; but no particular individual was being annihilated under the condemning eye of the evangelical right. But I guess in the words of the over quoted bard – methinks she doth protest too much.

As far as their arsenal is concerned I’m not going to tackle their ethical hypotheticals except to say that rape cases make up for less than 1% of abortions performed in so that argument is like bringing a stick to modern warfare.

But that’s not what this article is about. I think people throw loaded statements and questions about to satisfy their own consciences and therefore their own position. If you attempt to provide an answer their pedestal gets to wobbling and they get vicious so let’s not go there today.

It was my daughter’s dedication yesterday. If you’re not church savvy a dedication is a “ceremony” similar to a christening or baptism, where a baby is brought before the congregation and the minister prays a blessing over her while the parents acknowledge their intention to raise the child in a Godly manner. There were of course lots of “oohs and ahhs” as she ogled the crowd, but that is to be expected – she is the quintessential paragon of cuteness.

I mention this because that is where my cerebellum is coming from. A day dedicated to blessing my baby and thanking God for her precious life has led my thoughts into the dark woods of this abortion issue and I fear only writing about it can lead me safely out again.

For me it’s simple; would I prefer my gorgeous girl in a pretty red dress or her limbs in a petrii dish? I don’t think I have to tell you the answer to that.

Every day I go to work and the words “I miss her” don’t quite capture how I suffer in her absence. The phrase, “I love her” doesn’t describe how I feel. She is the one thing on this side of heaven that I would defend against tigers at the risk of my own spine being ripped out by a swift claw. I would launch myself into a pool of piranhas and throw her to safety with my dying hands. My last breath belongs to her...

What I am trying to say is her life is worth more to me than my own. I thank God for her daily. I pray for her almost every hour I’m awake. Before her nothing meant nearly as much (except my wife).

I had an epiphany in her first week that my feelings for her were only a fraction of what God felt for me. My relationship with him changed radically then from being something I “knew” to something I knew and felt on a deeper plane than I thought possible.

Rewind that 6-9 months and I valued her no less then than I do now. I can’t get it. I just can’t fathom or even vaguely understand how someone could consider an unborn baby worthless; regardless of the circumstances surrounding their conception.

So my thoughts continue...

I don’t want to be judge, jury and executioner but I have speculated that the same people who defend abortion with gritted teeth and clenched fists are also the same people who cry against the inhumanity of the death penalty. Would they be the ones defending the man who murders from the hangman’s noose, the lethal injection or the electric chair while supporting the premature death of the unborn child by methods far more cruel and imaginative? (I mean when was the last time a criminal was torn apart limb from limb with a vacuum cleaner?) Do they defend the right to live of the murderer on death row because deep down they know they have to – because they are guilty of the same thing?

Yeah I know, it’s a massive generalisation, but my personal experience with liberal thinkers suggests as much. Please comment if I’m wrong. I want to be wrong.

Recently in New Zealand the mysterious deaths of a few dogs on Auckland’s Eastern beaches made headline news. But the 18,000 or so babies aborted last year didn’t even get obituaries. Am I wrong to think that’s just barmy?

Our previous government outlawed “smacking” children for correction, making it tantamount to child abuse while endorsing a mother’s right to terminate her unborn baby. Please forgive my simpleness but what on earth? Is smacking a naughty kid really a criminal offence while finishing off an unborn baby is ok as long as it is done that side of the birth canal? Excuse me for being a little puzzled.

So as I paced up and down my lonely projection booth, where I work, my mind turned to these things and I decided that as a Christian there is something more I could add to the debate that should not be.

I thought, “Can you argue from the Bible, that abortion is wrong without using the commandment of “number six don’t get your kicks from killing one another”?

I think so...

We all know of the first murder when Cain slew Abel out in the field and God said to Cain, “Listen, your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground.” Sounds a bit strange, an idiom perhaps? But then I remembered God’s words to Noah after the flood, the flood sent to rid the world of unprecedented violence, “...for your life blood I will surely demand an accounting. I will demand an accounting from every animal. And from each man, too, I will demand an accounting for the life of his fellow man. “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed; for in the image of God has God made man.”

There is definitely something in the blood. The only reason blood was shed originally was to provide people with a covering for their sins. Innocent animals were sacrificed to foreshadow a time when an innocent man, Jesus Christ, would shed his blood for all mankind (Which includes women.)

God ordained these sacrifices, but man produced a counterfeit in the form of murder. Essentially when a person kills another person he is acknowledging that something is wrong and killing the other will make it right. Only it’s counterfeit – so it doesn’t work.

To understand this a bit more clearly, it is again illustrated by Cain killing Abel. Cain had presented vegetables to God, the produce of his hard work and skill but God rejected it in favour of Abel’s fat portions from his flock. Cain was jealous, but rather than doing the right thing he did the worst thing and slew his brother. I wonder if Cain mistook God’s ordainment of Sacrificing animals as blood thirstiness so he slew Abel thinking “that’ll keep him happy!” But he missed the point by a million miles – the blood of the animals served as a symbol of the coming Messiah who would ultimately redeem the world, something Abel’s blood was never able to accomplish.

Which brings us back to the unborn child. A baby has a beating heart pumping blood threw their veins at 5–6 weeks. Many women with good but misdirected consciences probably find themselves pregnant and know that something is wrong. Whether it be the way the child was conceived, or the fact the mother is too young or simply not ready. They seek to rectify this wrong by “slaying the blood” of the child because instinctively they may know that a price must be paid for the “wrongness” surrounding the child’s conception. They feel that slaying the child (or aborting if you prefer the euphemism.) will make the wrongness” go away. But it won’t. I know a woman in her 60’s who still mourns over an abortion she had 30 years ago.

Shedding a baby’s blood is only a counterfeit for the real deal – Christ’s blood. Only the shed blood of the “aborted” or crucified Jesus can make right the mistake of an “unwanted” (please forgive the expression) pregnancy. The woman who makes the choice to terminate is effectively saying, even if they don’t know it, “Jesus, the blood of my baby is more able to right my wrong than your own blood.” And sadly they really believe it.

But wait what about before the blood? Is “it” even human then? I still believe so. The blood was just an issue about redeeming right from wrong.

King Solomon in Ecclesiastes talks about the still born child that has more rest than the man who can’t enjoy his wealth and prosperity. It’s the personification of the unborn here that caught my attention, but maybe its a weak starting point. Though the Bible doesn’t say (at least in the English) that an embryo has a soul it does say in Luke that when the pregnant Mary visited her cousin Elizabeth the unborn John the Baptist leaped inside Elizabeth’s womb at the sound of Mary’s greeting (Luke 1:41).

So let’s say a person is a spiritual being from conception, God would not give such a thing as a spirit or a soul to a creature he did not intend to see the bright light of day, surely?

Look at it this way, imagine you had spent the entire afternoon preparing the most scrumptious and finger licking good banquet you had ever set your eyes on, would you then go and scrape it into the rubbish bin? Not likely. It was meant to be enjoyed and wolved down by invited guests. Likewise God does not invent Souls and scrape them into the garbage disposal! He wants them to be nurtured, loved and enjoyed by loving parents – parents invited to the banquet of the brand new individual.

I strongly believe, as I touched on earlier, that children teach us something about God’s character - his love and great patience for us as well as his willingness to lay down his life for us. What are we showing God when we terminate our own children? Nothing less than our contempt for his love. God could have just aborted us on day one after Adam ate the apple – but he didn’t. He travailed through an unwanted pregnancy of sorts and has laboured to redeem those who are willing.

Anyway, I keep digressing...

When Moses received the law, God made it very loud and understandably clear that the Israelites were not to do as the people in Canaan did. The Canaanites practiced the lot, from Incest to Necrophilia. But one thing God was particularly unimpressed with was the practice of human sacrifice, in this instance the passing of their babies into the fire to a false god know as Molech (Leviticus 18:21). To offer a child in sacrifice to any God is an abhorrent thing to do but Molech was a god associated with commerce. The idea was to offer Molech the child in exchange for blessing and prosperity. So what? Have you ever heard this line of reasoning, “I’m just not financially ready for a child” or “I really should focus on sorting out my career first”? You could add to the end of that argument – “So I will sacrifice this child for the sake of my own prosperity.”

Sacrificing the unborn for your own economic security is again a counterfeit for sacrificing your lifestyle for the benefit of your children.

Recently in the news a woman was brutally mutilated but with a twist. After she was murdered her unborn child was plucked from her womb and “adopted” by her killer. When the vicious assassin was apprehended the baby was found alive and survived the ordeal. We all (if we saw the news) watched this story in revulsion, mortified that someone could murder a pregnant woman and steal her unborn baby, but boy did we feel relief when the baby lived.

Well, I smell hypocrisy. Doctors rip babies apart as they suck them out of unwelcoming wombs on a daily basis, so what is the difference between the baby who was ripped out of the murdered woman and the baby that was “removed” in the doctor’s surgery? The only difference I can recognize is that one baby was wanted while the other was not. If this issue rests on a matter of “want” then pro-choice has lost.

Friday, August 14, 2009

This Week on Planet Me...

For the first time in ages I seem to have drawn a complete blank. Its not conventional writer's block, its just Australian Idol is on the telly and therefore I've just experienced my first Black Hole. I think it was the Asian guy singing "Imagine" who started sucking the gravity out of the room and now five minutes later all my brain matter is tinkering on the event horizon of complete mindless ear pillaging tripe.

Maybe I'm just jealous there is no New Zealand Idol, but even if there was I would never go down that road again. I'll never forget... actually scratch that, it seems I've intentionally forgotten the day I queued in the rain behind thousands of wannabe Australians at Brisbane's Suncorp Stadium just to be told, after hours of umbrella holding and fantasising about blowing the judges minds with my vocal whips, that there were too many contestants and to come back tomorrow.

Which I did. And I sucked.

I had spent the whole week strolling down The Spit on the Gold Coast with my collie screaming out the chorus of Kermit the Frog's Rainbow Connection to the applause of angry waves who would have told me to shut up were they not concentrating on smashing their faces on the hard seashore. In the end I got into an audition which was a dark room with a trio of judges who were definitely not the ones you see on TV. I sang four lines of the chorus to Wondering (an original) only to be told, "Thank-you, you're not quite what we're looking for."

Then I was picked up by my brother who wore bright red ski pants to South Bank for no good reason other than to humiliate me even more than I already felt. I don't even remember what year that was, 2004? At least my dream of becoming a world famous pop star died a slow and painless death of old age three years later. So now my wife has left the room, excuse me while I switch the telly off...

Ah that's better.

Apparently Friday is the day that historically honors the Norse goddess otherwise known as Frigg. If I had of known that I wouldn't have loved Friday's so much. False gods and goddesses don't do much for me... but when I found out that in old High German it was called Frigedag I thought it sounded just enough like "fridge" to keep me enthused by this usually happy day. I say "usually" because I'm in mourning for having eaten the last of the ice cream and also tomorrow I am working the day shift. Imagine there was an echo and a thunder clap when I said "Day Shift"...

Otherwise its been a tremendous week! I was thrilled when I discovered I had earned 12 whole cents thanks to some generous reader who probably accidentally supported one of my sponsors... but it made me feel a certain optimism that if I saved 12 cents a week for the next 127 years the amount I saved would replace my current annual income and I would be able to put my feet up for 12 months... except I haven't accounted for inflation or the possibility that the Builderburgers will have systematically decreased the world's population by 93% and money will be a mark in most people's foreheads. And my 12 cents will die a lonely death in Scrooge McDuck's Money Bin. But thanks for the thought... it really motivated me to keep writing... seriously, it really did... I'm not sure I can write this sentence without sounding sarcastic but one does get a thrill when he checks his Google Adsense and sees something has actually happened and that the system really does work.

Actually, I had an unprecedented 156 hits between today and last Fridge Day which was a personal record I would be happy to break by the next time I open my fridge. That either means I've got 156 readers who visit my blog at least once a week or 7 readers who visit Kerinthians 22 times a day. Which would be kind of sad.

But seriously, thanks to everyone who has dropped by in recent days, it was nice to have you over, sorry I couldn't offer you anything to eat.

I begin every week with the intention to write one blog a day with the exception of Sundays. This week I broke all my rules.

Sunday I was asked a question about Christianity and Yoga which I tried to answer to the best of my agility.
Monday I commented further after the questioner responded, but I have to say I'm still mostly undecided on the issue, then I posted a review on Ryan Reynold's Movie Chaos Theory.
Tuesday I saw the utmost movie of this year (even better than Star Trek) - District 9, and I couldn't help but review it. I'm inviting it to all my future birthday parties henceforth.

Then Wednesday came and the couch claimed my consciousness, robbing me of the pleasure of bugging you again so Thursday I resorted to Number 2 of something productive to do on the loo. I would have written number 3 tonight but I need to think more about the pro's and cons of practicing chemistry on the cold seat of relief.

Some people might wonder how I can go from Film reviews to deep theological contemplation to toilet humour but I'm trying to keep my site as eclectic as possible... the more readers that write me questions though the more material I have to work with and the less desperate I become for content!

In fact one of my more astute readers has asked me a deeper than normal question regarding Christianity and the Absence of Miracles which I am eager to sink my teeth into... hopefully I'll be able to tackle that one later tonight, but I have work tomorrow and the telly is on again so we'll see... or not...

So for now I will just leave you with some homework... yes, the dreaded "H" Word... as you go your cherry trek through the rest of next week please leave me a comment or two so I can decide whether my readers are real people or not and forward to at least 5 of your friends followed by 5 of your enemies and help me drive a few more people insane, then maybe you will get a gold star on your Good Student Chart and a chocolate bar at the end of the year... actually no you won't, my invisible lawyers tell me I can't promise something I was never actually willing to give.

Enjoy your weekend while I'm slaving at work!


P.S. Don't forget I'm on facebook so add me and stuff..

Here's a funny clip I saw recently...

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

District 9 - A Review

My own internal reaction to this film was so exciting that I completely forgot that I had hit a bollard with the side of my car on my way to see it! Thankfully, like the film, there were no dents to be seen...

This is one of those flicks where you see the trailer and you think, WOW I HAVE to see this movie... usually you see such a film and you walk away realising you have fallen for the same boring old story, retold a million times by Hollywood film makers. Not this time. District 9 disembarks from Hollywood regurgitation, it is wonderfully disgusting in its satisfyingly realistic view of Human Nature and portrayal of alien weaponry that turns a human into instant splatter puss. Not since the very first Predator Movie or Alien have I seen such a stirring and blood curdling piece of sci-fi story telling. There is nothing ordinary about this legendary piece of work and the bar for Science Fiction has been raised forever.

This is certainly a film for grown ups.

Director Neil Blomkamp was originally ivited by Peter Jackson to Direct the film version of the best computer game series ever (I'm biased) - Halo. When that project got shelved he was given the green light, and green paper, to expand his short film "Alive in Joburg" into the feature that became D9.

Take a gander at this so you can get a taste of what I am about to beat you up with:

Just like in "Alive in Joburg", District 9 makes good use of "real" camera work, kind of like in the Blair Witch Project, where the camera is mostly hand held, only like in a fast paced documentary.In fact most of the film is a mocumentary, only it seems to chop and change between this style and the conventional methods of cinematography.

It gets straight into it too, there is no pussy-footing around; right from the first scene you are aware of this massive alien vessel above Johannesburg, South Africa where more than 20 years ago it just appeared and after nothing happened for a few days the government send a team to break it open, only to discover it full of malnourished insectohumanoid aliens that are "rescued" only to become the outcasts of society. The people of Joburg want nothing to do with them and eventually they are delegated a small slum, which becomes known as District 9, by the private company Multi-National United.

It begins as a sort of "Day in the Life" of Wikus van der Merwe, your friendly alien-human social worker as he leads a team of MNU employees and Government soldiers in an effort to evict the Prawns (the derogatory name society has given the aliens) to District 10, a sort of glorified concentration camp. It almost plays like an episode of Cops until Wikus crosses paths with Christopher Johnson, an intelligent Prawn with a plan to get back to the mother ship by collecting fuel from alien technology. Only his plan fails when Wikus accidentally squirts himself with the fuel...

And so the fun begins.

You see, the aliens could just go home but they're being kept here for a sinister purpose. MNU have stock piled alien weaponry which can only be used by Prawns. No Human can get the darn things to do anything... that is until Wikus' DNA is manipulated by the Alien fuel, transforming in gradual fashion this geeky pen pusher into something that would best suit a commercial for insecticide.

Now I have watched a lot of Star Trek style Science Fiction where the Human species is uplifted to an almost godlike position. Where words like "Humanity" and "Dignity" are tennised about by players convinced that we're all basically good and sometimes do a little bit of evil. Its so sickeningly unromantic; this idea that human beings are going to get there on their own eventually. In District 9 we see the complete opposite - Human Beings doing Human things, evil things to a disadvantaged group of people, despised on account of their being different. MNU perform heinous experiments on the Prawns to get what they want and even Wikus is put on the chopping block for the sake of technological and financial advancement. Greed is god and the Prawns are just commodities. Mankind is evil with the capacity to only sometimes do good, and as Wikus becomes one of them and looses his humanness, only then does his true "humanity" rare its not so ugly head. It resounds with "All have sinned and fall short of the Glory of God" (Roman's 3:23) and bares a strong resemblance to the crimes of the real Nazi's of yesteryear...

I thought I would never say this but the CGI in this film was awesomely cool. Most modern pictures flood the screen with computer graphics that leave you wondering why you paid $15 to see something you could have seen on the telly with your kids during Saturday morning Cartoons. Blomkamp got the balance just right and gently massaged the Special Effects into the feature so that you wouldn't be distracted by the fakeness of it all. Its like a woman who looks beautiful wearing lipstick as opposed to the other beautiful plastic chick who grabs your affectionate gaze just long enough to terrify you when her nose falls off.

Blomkamp also succeeded in creating a situation where the aliens came to a country that wasn't America, there were no Greenpeacers citing Alien Rights and there were no dorky honorable Soldierly salutes at the end that made you want to gag. This movie is raw, serrated and tells it like it is, even if it wasn't.

Be warned, violence is more than a eight letter word in this film and there is plenty of the four letter word that starts with "F" in it, only the South African accents made it hard to distinguish at times. I think this may be a boys film but the story may be enough to attract a female audience - although the many scenes of decapitation, mutilation and cat-food eating may set the squeamish screaming. There was one bit where Wikus tries to cut off his alien arm with a short axe and someone in our test audience actually cried out, "Don't do it!" before I could.

After its release date on August 13th this film will be bathing under a fountain of fantastic reviews.

I give it a 9 out of 10, simply because I have never seen anything quite like it. In fact I haven't felt this way about a film since the days when only the rich had VCRs and seeing a movie was a special and expensive thing. I tip the hat I am not wearing to Blomkamp and hope to see more of his imagination on reels again soon.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Chaos Theory - A Review

I suffer from the problematic predicament of writing a review for a movie I saw three days ago. Hopefully no brain cells crucial to the memory of this film have died in the interim. Though given that memories are strongest when attached to strong emotional reactions to things my feelings regarding this little piece of cinema are somewhat absent...

This was not a film that came out in mainstream cinemas in New Zealand, and by mainstream I do mean the ones that I happen to work at. I've seen it sitting on the new release stand at my local DVD store for several months now and have wanted to get it out soley because it has Ryan Reynolds on the front cover, looking bewildered. No I'm not a man with a secret girl on the inside harboring an abominable crush on the Reynolds Burger but I do think the guy is seriously funny and after gorging on the Two Guys and a Girl sitcom, watching one episode after the other in a home made marathon of welcome convivialness, who could blame me?

That's most likely why I was vexed by disillusionment after forcing myself to stay awake throughout this film that promised laughs but delivered melodrama disguised as humour.

Reynolds plays Frank Allan, a bloke obsessed with ordering his life by making lists. Everyday his life is meticulously planned out by lists he sets to cue cards, time taken seriously into account. He appears to have a good marriage with a particularly strong bond with his 7 year old daughter, except his wife is a bit more loose and carefree with her time management and you can sense the strain this difference places on the couple. So on the morning of his lecture in New York (?) on, you guessed it, time management, she sets the clock back ten minutes in an attempt to give him more time, only the silly thing is she was meant to set it forward and the whole thing backfires, causing him to miss the fairy and therefore show late to his time managing seminar where a fan, the girl who plays Elliot in Scrubs, tries to seduce him by getting him drunk and tricking him into letting her into his hotel room. But don't worry it doesn't get too seedy. Staunchly faithful to his wife he refuses to go to cheatsville and flees the scene in good Josepherian fashion... but as he evacuates the hotel the evil temptress is left behind to answer the phone when his wife rings. Things go from bad to badder while his flight home throws him in the way of another frenzied vehicle driven by a lady suffering from extreme Labour. He rushes her to the hospital and ends up filling out the strangers hospital forms using his own address...

Gimmicky isn't it?

So now he has an angry wife who not only thinks he's been having extra marital sensations, but when the hospital calls his home after the patient goes missing and reveals he was an accomplice to bringing a baby into the world, she takes her husband for a bigamist!

Everything before this sentence hints at a recipe brewed for something similar to a Something About Mary style treat but alas it curdles into an orange juice mixed with milk concoction. Frank (why are so many characters called Frank anyway?) goes to the Doctor to prove the impossibility of his paternity to this random baby only to uncover he had two "X" chromosomes. In my naivety and hope for a laugh I thought this was the part in the film where he would discover he was in fact a Miss but double alas, it meant only that not only was he not the babies father but he was completely sterile, thus rendering undeniable doubt on his relationship to the girl he has called his daughter for the past 7 years.

This once ordered, meticulous and concise man sinks into a whirl pool that takes the rest of the movie down the drain as he embraces chaos rather than harmony. His lists become "options" shuffled about and randomly selected as he tries to cope with the shattered illusion of his life and hypocritical wife.

This should have been funny. But it wasn't. The scene where he goes to a second time management lecture and tells his audience to embrace whim while he chugs on a cigarette should have been funny, but it wasn't. the bit where he pulls a card out at random at a hockey game which sees him streaking across the ice should have been funny, but it wasn't.

It got a tad sad really.

The moral of the story was satisfying though. The story embraced the truth that Love is not a feeling, it is essentially an act of the will, which Frank demonstrates through loving his daughter no matter whose she turned out to be. And that sat well with me... its just a shame the rest of the flick slid off my lap. At least I had some knitting to do at the time!

In the unlikely event that you caught the old John Cleese film "Clockwise" you will notice that the first half of Chaos Theory seems to resemble its nose and ears, but the rest of the face is unrecognisable. Clockwise was a better movie, why? Because it WAS funny.

For those with sensitive ears there is a bit of swearing throughout the film and a couple of sex related scenes that hint more than they show... so I grant this film a 2 out of 10 for the simple fact that that is $7 of DVD hireage I will never see again.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

The Random Fish and Chips Dude is a Sparrow's Fart

I was thinking tonight as I let go of a few meals long forgotten in the porcelain portal we call "The Bathroom" that the time we spend "on the loo" should not be time wasted. Rather it should be embraced as an opportunity of endless potential.

I say "endless" but over the next... however long it takes... I've decided to come up with one hundred wholesome things you can do on the loo that will enhance your life and guarantee you unlimited happiness for at least 11 minutes at a time.

Here goes.

Things to do on the Loo Number One:

Learn to knit. In recent months I have learned the joys of knitting. Traditionally a sport for the female of the species I have discovered it to be complicated and intellectually stimulating, and have therefore concluded that a man must have invented it. After a while men became bored of this complicated and somewhat unnecessary procedure and opted for the easier method of killing something and wrapping its skin around himself for warmth while the females discovered that they could validate all the time they sat at home talking by saying, "But we were knitting something dear..." Of course this is completely sexist and has subsequently been removed from all history books in an effort to maintain social order and respect between the genders. In the meantime, I, a man no less, have discovered the lost art of making scarfs to wear around ones neck to protect it from the cold and/or flying scissors. But be warned, it is a time consuming craft and one has to fight to find the time to do such a thing. After all, girls can knit to their hearts content and still know whose dating who on their favourite soup opera while having a deep and meaningful conversation with Suzanne about nappies and chocolate. Men tried this centuries ago and ended up stabbing each other with needles in the neck, hence the scarf was invented. But I lean far to far from the point. Men need to be alone and out of ear shot so we can concentrate on the delicate manoeuvrings of weaving wool from one stick to another. And what better place to do it than on the lavatory. It has everything you need from a comfortable seat to the sweet silence of your feet on cold linoleum. One word of warning though, if you are knitting a scarf be careful not to let the end you've been knitting fall into the bowl, you may need to wash it afterwards, so save yourself the hassle and let it fall gently elswhere. Eventually you will acquire the skill to be able to knit your own toilet tissue and utilize it as you go. However it might pay to ask family members or other occupants if they intended on using the bathroom in the next 3 days before you attempt this as it may take you a while. If however you are a rich sod who has two bath rooms, then go for gold.

So if you're a regular on my exciting site and have been wondering where on earth I've been this week I can honestly tell you that I was not knitting toilet paper whilst trapped in the bathroom. Actually we had a small computer crisis and I lost Internet access for several days. At first I thought this would be worse than serenading Brian Adams "You know it true, everything I do, I do it for you" to a room full of New Labour MP's but it turned out to be only half as bad as I suddenly found I had a life outside of the World Wide Web. I remembered that I had legs all of a sudden and I could do things like kick the dog and stub my toe on door frames and it felt so wonderfully bad. Ok so I don't kick my dog but I did kick my little toe and it sent me into a fit of agonising philosophical questions about why the one thing more painful for a man than the obvious is when your little toe meets the corner of your bed post, a set of draws or the frame of a door... I would remove the thing if I wasn't so attached to it. Anyway, I realised I needed the net before I didn't have any toes left and also so I could ignore my dog licking his lips at the thought of my lying in a tasty bloody mess on the floor. Do dogs even have lips?

But I'm back on line. So there.

Then there was this cool Lego toy I saw today in a toy hire place. I saw the box set with "Indianna Jones" splayed across the packaging. I thought it was going to be something cool like a tomb or a grave or something Indiana Jonesish but what I saw was something way cooler - it was the "Indiana Jones and the bit in Raiders of the Lost Ark where the shirtless German guy gets his face sliced off by the aeroplane propellers" set. Seriously, it came complete with plastic pilot, a little two fingered Indy and a half naked bald German, except he still had his face. If my site ever actually starts making some money I have vowed to purchase that timeless toy so I can reenact the face grating scene again and again and again. I might even run over Indy just to alter the time line and prevent the Crystal Skull addition from ever seeing the light of day. In fact, if they could find a way to personify the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull into a small plastic Lego figurine then I could have it meet with aeroplane blades repeatedly. It would be the next biggest YouTube thing....

Speaking of YouTube, this is my video of the week. Its an ad for the coolest toy ever made (after the "Indiana Jones and the bit in Raiders of the Lost Ark where the shirtless German guy gets his face sliced off by the aeroplane propellers" set that is). I have no words for this except "Wow" and "I want one" and please support my site so I can actually make enough money to buy one of these!

Did I mention I really want one of these?

So in the week gone by I wrote hardly anything due to our Internet scandal. But I did write a weird piece on Dolphins and dish washing liquid and an invigorating review on the new Sam Raimi movie Drag me to Hell which I'm sure you will find delightfully controversial.

Hopefully after reading this you will be filled with inspiration and think something to the effect of, "Gee, I really like this blog site, I think I'm going to do one of the following!

1.Add me on facebook for updates
2.Add me on Twitter for updates
4.Become a follower on
5.If you like any of my reviews or blogs then please forward the link to your chums
6.Email me at with questions so I don’t run out of material
7.Email me your favourite self saucing pudding recipe because they’re my favourite...
If you don't feel inspired and you couldn't care less then do it anyway just because I said so, sound like a plan to you?



Friday, August 7, 2009

Drag Me to Hell - A Review

Well, Hell is a four letter word that seems to raise the room temperature whenever it is mentioned in this day and age, especially if the person mentioning it believes in it. If your seat is getting warm and your forehead turning crimson then that is because you are reading a film review about a movie about Hell by someone who actually believes that such a place exists. However, I suspect the real Hell is not quite what Sam Raimi had in mind when he made this film.

In this movie Chirstine, a lovely sweet "girl next door" type, is busting her guts battering her eye lids and flexing her dimpled smile as a loans officer, desperate for an Assistant Manager's position at the bank she works for. However her boss implies that she doesn't have what it takes to make the tough calls such a job demands. Its at this point that a decrepit false-toothed, creased and crinkly elderly woman comes in with a request for her third mortgage extension. Desperate to prove herself ruthless Christine denies the old hag her pleas and calls security when the strange geriatric begs for mercy on her mother's grave. Satisfied that she has won her bosses approval Christine leaves at the end of the day only to be attacked by a more frightening and super human version of the crazed Gypsy (as it turns out) in the parking lot, who after a terrific scene involving the scariest Hanky I have ever witnessed in a movie and Christine defending herself with a stapler, manages to secure a button from Christine's coat. She breathes a curse on the button and leaves Christine with a head ache and a dose of paranoia which soon turns to hysteria as she discovers the curse is one that will take the owner of the button to Hell for all eternity after only 3 days.

Anyone who has seen the Evil Dead trilogy will recognise instantly the same horror style that borders on the humorous while still managing to get a few jumps out of you. From an anvil landing on an apparitions head causing its eyes to pop out like corks and splatter Christine in the face to the same apparition spewing maggots and worms all over Christine's face and into her open mouth one can't help but to cringe and chuckle all at once. Or maybe that was just me. Actually my favourite scene in this whole film was when Christine, usually an animal rights loving vegan, wanders through her house with a carving knife saying, "Here kitty kitty!" so she can appease her grim reaper with a blood sacrifice...

Oh dear...

As far as Horror Movies go I thought it was very well made and I haven't seen anything quite like it for a very long time.

Now for the fun part - was it true?


I have realised recently that modern Christianity in the West has embraced a sort of "Don't mention Hell" position. Maybe it's because modern psychology has relegated the idea of sin and "guilt" to clever little euphemisms and has reasoned them away. Our materialistic world view might not incorporate an after-life, but if it does then that after-life consists of a light at the end of the tunnel and a god who resembles Santa Clause, an Angel with a harp eating candy floss or a Jesus who says, "Come unto me pretty much everyone no matter what you believe..." So Hell is not very popular, after all, most of us are good right, and why would a "loving" God send me into hell?

The Church has adopted a sort of Life Enhancing Gospel where the only reason someone should embrace Christ is because he will make your life super neat rather than the fact that not accepting him will severely damage your experience of the hereafter.

Because the Church don't talk about Hell anymore we have created a vacuum where the only way anyone can learn about this munted place is through the movies. Movies made by people who most likely don't believe in the place, or if they do have a pretty twisted idea of it.

So coming back to this movie, considering most people are aware on some level that Hell is a Christian belief, they will walk away from this movie thinking, "That just sucks. how could Christians believe in that stuff?"

Its sad really.

This movie challenged the idea that someone as sweet and "innocent" as Christine could go to such a place.

The biblical position is this, that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23) but the good news is that "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that who ever believes in him shall not perish but have everlasting life" (John 3:16).

I think people who don't understand Christianity have the whole thing round the wrong way. They think that we worship a God who is bent on sending naughty sinners to Hell when in fact the opposite is true, we worship God who is completely dedicated to rescuing people from eternal damnation.

But wait, didn't God create it in the first place? Yes, of course - for the Devil. Jesus pointed out that the Everlasting Fire was prepared for the Devil and his angels. (Matt 25:40-42) So why would we go there?

Good question. The answer is simply that when Satan, the author of everything wrong in the world, is condemned then he will be taking his belongings with him. Unfortunately his belongings in this sense mean all those souls he managed to swindle out of a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ.

In a nut shell, when Adam sinned, as well as dying spiritually, he gave up his right of rulership over planet earth and surrendered it to Satan. Everything in creation became the legal property of Lucifer, including mankind. That is why when the Devil is tempting Jesus on the mountain; showing him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor, he says, "All this I will give you!" (Matt 4:9) - because it was his to give! So the answer to the question, "If God is so great then why can't he just keep us from going to Hell?" Is that God is not a thief, stealing is outside of his character therefore he had to purchase us by sending his Son, Jesus Christ, to die on the cross to receive the punishment in our place. All one has to do is believe on him and we will have instant access into heaven, becoming God's possessions and no longer under the control of the Prince of Darkness.... trust me when I say that God has agents working round the clock, whether angels or bloggers like myself, trying to get that message to you loud and clear so that you don't have to go to that awful destination...

Its sad a lot of people have this idea that the Christian God stands on the edge of some sort of fire proof jetty, pegging lost souls at John Lennon or Adolph Hitler when the truth is that Christians worship Jesus who went to immeasurable lengths to suffer unimaginable pain, not just physically but dying spiritually when he literally became sin on the cross and bore every single evil and disgusting thing done by every human being who has ever lived from Cain to Charlie Manson - its too much to fathom what that must have been like, but believing in it will save your life and set thousands of angels into fits of joy! (Luke 15:10)

I wondered if Raimi's choice to call the Heroine "Christine" was a coincidence? There was a scene where she learns that if she gives the button, and therefore the curse, to someone else then she will be free from certain doom. Only when she sets out to give the button away she discoverers she can't do it because damning anyone to everlasting torment just didn't seem fair to her. In that sense she is like Christ, not willing that anyone should perish and taking the curse upon himself, but somehow, I'm not sure if that's what Director Sam had in mind. I felt he was having a stab at the idea that not even a greedy bank teller deserves such a fate.

Its sad too that when Christine seeks help she goes to psychics and not to a Church. Where Jesus is said to have cast out demons with a word, Christine becomes involved in all sorts of mumbo jumbo which ultimately makes things a whole lot worse.... after all, she chose the blood of her kitty cat to redeem her lost soul when the blood of Christ would have sufficed... but ok, if she figured that out then the movie wouldn't have lasted the 99 mins it did!

So as far as share film making and quality are concerned I would give this film a 7 out of 10 but for doctrinal value or theological accuracy I think something less than a zero would fit nicely...

Monday, August 3, 2009

Canned Dolphin

I was meant to be writing a review about Drag Me to Hell but I’m just so tired I feel like my head might end up doing the typing and my blog will end up looking something like this:

EW” fE’p ;sea;’OJ AGS ‘ OIJ wpio ma erepo iu ‘ LJ ge’ oij G’ JPOg ess

If I did that a million times a second for the next billion years then maybe, like the chimpanzees typing Hamlet, we would end up with the best blog ever written, but by then my key board, after being caked in blood, brains and skull fragments, might become part of my coffee table and finally part of the floor; thus adding to the miracle that anything was typed at all, let alone the even bigger miracle that there will still be Microsoft software in a billion years. If it did work no one would notice, because they would all be at the theatre – watching Hamlet performed by Chimps. People always go for monkeys despite the greater things in the world. Imagine how many people today drink tea just because they saw a PG Tips ad and decided that from that day forth they would only drink tea during piano removal? It makes one wonder.

So I had a day off and spent a good portion of it sleeping in my car, thankfully while parked. I cleaned so many dishes that the Queen herself should knight me Sir Kerin of the Kitchen Sponge. But before I did that I went and bought some dish washing liquid, because without it those dishes weren’t going to let me anywhere near them. They only like to be prodded with a bristled brush as long as they’ve been soaped up good, then I can do what I want with them which usually involves drying them with a towel and locking them in a dark cupboard until the next time I feel like throwing food at them and we repeat the process all over again. What a miserable life being eaten from and scraped at and locked away... it amazes me that people will get upset over caged chickens but won’t give a second thought to their own dinner plates. At least the chickens get fed.

I suppose a dinner plate is dead... but how can a dead thing give me so much joy?

I’m so tired.

Anyway, I went to get us some dish washing liquid and remembered that I had heard on 104.5 or is it 105.4? I can never remember which, but it’s the station that plays all that old fuddy duddy stuff that when you listen to it really carefully you realized that the song writers in the olden days actually wrote songs that meant something... anyway, I was probably listening to Cliff Richard or Kenny Rogers or some other tragic geriatric when suddenly I heard an ad about this dish washing liquid that saves dolphins, its called Down to Earth, which is a good name for something that likes to get its slippery hands dirty... but yeah its designed to save the Maui Dolphin, a very rare breed found here in the good U.S. of Zealand... so rare in fact that the population is in the hundreds... sad really when you consider that Dolphins are the only other animal that does the procreation tango for fun, I guess they’re not watching enough Dr Phil, or maybe the problem is they are – since becoming a Dad I’ve seen enough of Dr Phil and Pope Oprah to make me want to decrease the human population to a few hundred starting with the two of them...

... but I go off the point I do...

So there’s this dish washing liquid that saves Dolphins somehow and I bought some to do my bit. I leaped into the cold New Zealand Sea and searched high and low for a Maui Dolphin and said, “Here bro, I bought you some dish washing liquid!” Then, reasoning that plastic was bad for the poor blighter, who also didn’t have hands to squeeze the bottle with, I emptied the contents into the ocean...

I was expecting a moment like in that movie Cacoon where the friendly mammal would applaud me with thankful clicks and Dolph-Angelic squeals and squeaks, or maybe it would start glowing like the sun, shed its skin and reveal its real immortal self in a shining moment of redemption as it received the magic dish washing liquid that could save its race from extinction forever. Instead, it convulsed and twitched a little, turned upside down and floated to the surface. I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching and because I believe in recycling I snuck it ashore knowing that while it may be the fish that John West rejects that makes John West the best; its also the fish that I get to take home for free.

What I learned from this encounter was that you can’t save a Dolphin with dish washing liquid but you can save it with money which is what Down to Earth promise to do if you buy their liquid. I don’t usually go for all this Save the Earth, Green is Good, Hippie, Church of Oprah and the false prophet Al Gore talk; but I like Dolphins so I just thought I would mention it.

This is clearly just fuller material which was supposed to allow me an early night but I realise in the time it took me to come up with something that resembles the rambling of a stoned Dolphin trying to type Shakespeare’s Hamlet while drowning a monkey; I could have just written that stupid review in the first place!

I’ll do it tomorrow! I promise.

DISCLAIMER: I didn’t really kill a dolphin; if I did it would be more exciting, involving a four wheel drive and a coffee mug. Dolphins are cool, without them we wouldn’t have the famous line “So long and thanks for all the fish” that Douglas Adams left us in his unforgettable series Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Neither would we have tuna labels that say “No Dolphins were harmed in the production of this can or its contents”. Without Dolphins we wouldn’t know that it is possible to kill a shark with your nose. You should try it sometime, it’s really neat. Without Dolphins Australia’s Sea World would run out of money and an entire generation of children wouldn’t know the theme song to “Flipper”. I can’t imagine what it would be like to live in that kind of world.

Anyway, if you hated this blog then I apologise for the irreverence and irrelevance. It was just all in good fun albeit bad taste. If you have taken me seriously then I suggest seeking counselling.

Reader's Response

The below is a recent response from one of my faithful readers... used with permission I might add!

I thought it was an insiteful insite worth sharing... espcially the bit where he says "Another great blog you posted"...

I guess I'm sharing this because I would like to remind you all of the scary state of affairs we are finding ourselves in if we allow complacency to keep our mouths shut, especially around voting time. Political Correctness must be captured, tortured, hung, drawn and quartered - it is an ethical system based on arbitrary human values, depending on what is popular at the time rather than on absolutes.

I was thinking today taht it would be neat to get a large island and chuck a whole bunch of everyone on it. Say a few thousand/million people from every culture and religion in the world and force them to all pretend they're all the same and then sit back and see what happens. It would be a primo experiment... oh wait, its happening in England right now! I forgot.

How do,

Another great blog you've posted, good work.

You hit the nail on the head with your verdict on the Religious Equality Bill. As with everything New Labour, it's all about 'positive discrimination', the cornerstone of political correctness.

Nordic countries demonstrate what *true* equality is, by treating everyone the same-- the concept of Jante Law. However in the world of New Labour's equality, Orwell's principle applies-- some people are more equal than others.

Religion is a good example of this. Labour seem to pander tirelessly to Muslims: One example is letting Muslim extremists preach their hate, yet other demonstrations can expect heavy-handed treatment from the authorities.

Labour has seriously considered allowing Sharia Law to hold sway for Muslim communities. Then there are stories about some authorities (controlled by Labour or the oxymoronicall-named Liberal Democrats) banning the promotion of Christmas in some workplaces (prefer "Winterval"), in case it "offends other religions"-- you often hear similar stories with that excuse given.

I have nothing against Muslims or other religions, as long as they don't try to impose their views on other people. The UK is predominantly Christian country still, with Christian festivals; Muslim fundamentalists should get that, or bugger off to Saudi Arabia [wink]. Hindus and Christians in the UK celebrate Christmas and Divali respectively after all.

As I say, Labour does not exactly discourage Muslim extremists-- it's un-PC to speak out against them you see. It's clear Labour are trying get life-time supporters, by pandering to Muslim radicals-- one of the few sections of society who still like Labour.

Sadly the other two main parties are not much better, with the Conservatives aping Blair and the Liberal Democrats being achingly right-on.

Then the main parties wonder why people start voting BNP. By the way, I'm not condoning the BNP-- they are neo-facists-- sadly clever at hiding it these days.

I'll be voting UKIP from now on, because 1) They believe in proper equality 2) They are libertarian and promote choice 3) They believe in common-sense and pragmatism, not loony ideologies.


David (surname protected)

*Thanks David, I always enjoy your Fonz style coolness!

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Stuff about Things and All that Jazz or this week in 2009...

Well, my I’m busting so I’m going to use the fact that my bladder may explode as a good insentive to write this down as quickly as possible...

You may remember that on a dark stormy night of great gusts of wind my poor dog’s house was picked up and carried far far away... well, wherever “far away” is it is still there without even a letter or a phone call to say when it is coming back. In fact I think it might have run off with another Dog Kennel and eloped. I’m kind of hoping it will be like one of those tricks where someone steals a garden gnome and takes pictures of it all around the world until it returns with a tan and sunglasses. It would be nice to have some photographs of Hagrid’s little home classing up the Eiffel tower or next to the Loch or even providing shelter for poor starving Australian who couldn’t get the first home owners grant because their really a kiwi in denial... sorry that would have gone over quite a few of your heads, much like my canine’s kennel did during last weeks squall that rendered him homeless.. oh well, I suppose it could have been much worse, I could have opened the paper up on Monday to discover that there had been a fatal collision of a car with a kennel going above the limit without a driver no less... even worse, it could have had my name plastered on the side. Let’s just forget the whole thing shall we?


This week my gorgeous little girl got even gorgeouser now that she sleeps through the entire night... well, to me she does, my wife tells me she still gets up when its still dark for some mommy milk but its still better than where we were at this time last week when the lack of sleep was turning me into Herman Munster and the thought of sleeping in the dog house seemed like a valid option until it blew away... (I said that’s enough, stop bringing it up, you’re going to get us into trouble!) But this fatherhood thing is sweetly awesome and I recommend it to everyone - go forth, marry and multiply I say... just make sure you get your own because I’m keeping mine!

This week on Kerinthian’s I wrote a naughty article, that lots of people will hate because they probably won’t get it, about False Equality. I wrote from my Christian perspective that current laws proposed in the UK about “Equality in religion” are really just a clever little way of getting rid of “religions” the state don’t agree with, namely my own! So you could say I felt like a bit of a rebel tonight when I posted it, knowing it will be banned in China, San Francisco and Gordon Brown’s toilet magazine rack.

I reviewed a yummy place called O’Sarracino where my tastebuds picked up pens and started writing their praises on my tongue until I had to spit them out into a blog. I pity anyone who is overseas who reads that one, because unless you’re prepared to get on a plane and splash down in wet miserable Auckland, New Zealand then you will never know what its like to eat a meal that would leave your mouth thinking, “I can finally die, nothing could possibly be better than this...” Oh well, your loss...

I saw a movie called Phantasm which proved to be a cure for awakeness. I recommend it to anyone who has trouble with not laughing during a horror flick. This one was so hilarious that it broke my funny bone and left it in a plaster cast along with my sarcasm and boredom.

I also wrote about Little Miss Sunshine, a movie about a chubby little girl with hoola hoop glasses who travels across state to a beauty pageant with the family from Hades. Very entertaining and wonderfully depressing.

And then there was a movie called Mad Money which was fun to do as long as you had several other people in the room to talk to when you got bored.

My goodness, I saw three movies this week... and I have a baby... how on earth did I manage that? I’ll have to check with my wife. Mind you, as I write this at 3 a.m. I have to wonder if I’m sleep talking with my fingers?

Keep an eye on my site next week as I drag “Drag me to Hell” to Hell and leave it there and I attempt to talk about the classic Marathon Man which I’m going to watch only because it has Dustin Hoffman in it and that guy from Jaws who says, “Smile you son of a... KABOOOM, sharks guts everywhere....” best scene in any Spielberg movie ever!

I hope you folk are enjoying my meteoric return to the blog world, though I wish they called it “bogging” because I could get a lot of material out of that... but please show your support by doing one of, if not all of, the following thingies...

1.Add me on facebook for updates
2.Add me on Twitter for updates
4.Become a follower on
5.If you like any of my reviews or blogs then please forward the link to your chums
6.Email me at with questions so I don’t run out of material
7.Email me your favourite self saucing pudding recipe because they’re my favourite...

Finally if you should come across any article or review or whatever on my site that you might like to publish in a publication, whether it be for school, church or golfing quarterly, I don’t mind as long as you mention my site, acknowledge me as the author and let me know about it first!

And there it goes, the rooster just crowed or whatever it is that roosters do... I have Church in 6 hours... better dash daringly into what is left of the night...



P.S. Does anyone have any questions?