Blog number 326 **** 15 August 2009
Blog number 325 visited the dinosaurs' disappearance in Chick Publications. I commented then on the weirdness of Chick's pulling facts out of the air. Today I ran into another one.
A character is telling the story of Thanksgiving because one of the children at a Thanksgiving dinner, asked, "Hey Uncle Mort...what is Thanksgiving? I've never heard of it," while another child says, "We can't say 'Thanksgiving' in our school."
So Uncle Mort tells the story of Thanksgiving. It seems the Pilgrims were starving at Plymouth Rock until "God let them find corn that had been buried by the Indians." By winter's end, half of the survivors were dead and the other half, sick. Just when all seemed lost, two Indians stepped out from the trees, one of whom spoke perfect English.
Now why did Chick add that last little tidbit? Does it add to the plot or does it kinda make the story a little less believable? Why say that? For what purpose?
I think what is happening in Chick's brain is that he accepts everything in the Bible as God's truth, and he believes that that is all that is important. Anything else he might say about ancient history, true or not, doesn't really matter. It's beside the point. "Just get the story told" kinda thing. That's why he can say humans killed all the dinosaurs for food and the first time an Indian is seen, he speaks perfect English.
I myself have been guilty of this type of reasoning. I sometimes do it when the listener seems to have missed the point and gotten stuck on some minor detail that doesn't matter. I'll just say whatever will shut them up. I think that is what Chick is doing.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
CHICKIE, BABY!
Blog number 325 **** 11 August 2009
When we lived in Sacramento, I used to find Chick Publications religious tracts lying on bus stop benches, in restaurants, Sac State, all over. Stamped on these tracts was usually the name and address of "Bethany Temple," "First Pentecostal," or some other evangelical Christian church.
These tracts are about five inches by three inches, 16 pages in length. I had a collection of them that I brought from Sacramento, and having mentioned them to my son Kavi, he sent me some more that he had found. I don't believe I have ever seen them here in Arizona.
A couple of days ago I saw a documentary on these tracts. I found that there are only two known photos of Mr. Chick - one from a High School yearbook, the other when he enlisted in the army shortly thereafter. He was born in 1924.
Nobody has ever interviewed him.
Seeing this documentary, I got interested in looking at them again, but I couldn't find them. I had misplaced my set and I couldn't find them. My wife, believing I had a great interest in seeing them again, bought a set for around $20. She likes to please me with purchases.
These tracts, although obviously meant to be always serious and important, inadvertently are often humorous and kinda weird. The weirdness comes mostly from Mr. Chick's belief that what you do in life has nothing whatsoever to do with whether you wind up in Heaven or Hell. What does matter is if you have taken Jesus Christ as your personal savior by the time you die. In other words, you can lie, cheat, steal and murder, as long as you take Jesus as your savior. On the other hand, if you live as a saint and do not take Him as your savior, it's down to the burning depths for you immediately upon your earthly death.
One tract I had never seen before is entitled, "Congratulations." The congratulations refers to whomever has been fortunate enough to have bought an assortment of Chick Publications tracts.
This Congratulations edition tells you how to feel when you get berated for passing out these things.On the next to the last page the caption reads, "When you get past the fear of simply laying down tracts, try HANDING one to the box boy at the store." Then there's a drawing of a box boy holding one, with a smiling excited look on his face, saying, "Wow! THANKS!." Hah!
Showing how the Egyptians drowned Jewish boys to keep down the population, two men are shown tossing something into the water that goes, "splash" and a crocodile is watching going, "Mmmm. Yum, yum."
In this same edition, this boy wants his father to put lamb's blood over the doorway because all the firstborn are going to be killed unless they have this sign over the door. He hassles his unwilling father until the father asks him, "Why should you care anyway?"
The kid answers, "Papa, I'm the first born!"
Today I was reading one of Chick's tracts about what happened to the dinosaurs. He says humans hunted them for their meat. Then Chick portrays all dinosaurs going onto the ark two by two. Then he says scientists claim that the dinosaurs disappeared because of a comet hitting the earth but, Chick says, it didn't happen that way. No, what happened was that the flood killed trillions and trillions of plants, which left earth with a scarcity of oxygen, which made the dinosaurs run slower, so humans were able to hunt them down until they were extinct.
It is never explained why humans were not affected by the lack of oxygen.
What really amazes me is though, is why Chick would engage in such a grasping of straws to explain why the dinosaurs disappeared. Boggles my mind, it does.
When we lived in Sacramento, I used to find Chick Publications religious tracts lying on bus stop benches, in restaurants, Sac State, all over. Stamped on these tracts was usually the name and address of "Bethany Temple," "First Pentecostal," or some other evangelical Christian church.
These tracts are about five inches by three inches, 16 pages in length. I had a collection of them that I brought from Sacramento, and having mentioned them to my son Kavi, he sent me some more that he had found. I don't believe I have ever seen them here in Arizona.
A couple of days ago I saw a documentary on these tracts. I found that there are only two known photos of Mr. Chick - one from a High School yearbook, the other when he enlisted in the army shortly thereafter. He was born in 1924.
Nobody has ever interviewed him.
Seeing this documentary, I got interested in looking at them again, but I couldn't find them. I had misplaced my set and I couldn't find them. My wife, believing I had a great interest in seeing them again, bought a set for around $20. She likes to please me with purchases.
These tracts, although obviously meant to be always serious and important, inadvertently are often humorous and kinda weird. The weirdness comes mostly from Mr. Chick's belief that what you do in life has nothing whatsoever to do with whether you wind up in Heaven or Hell. What does matter is if you have taken Jesus Christ as your personal savior by the time you die. In other words, you can lie, cheat, steal and murder, as long as you take Jesus as your savior. On the other hand, if you live as a saint and do not take Him as your savior, it's down to the burning depths for you immediately upon your earthly death.
One tract I had never seen before is entitled, "Congratulations." The congratulations refers to whomever has been fortunate enough to have bought an assortment of Chick Publications tracts.
This Congratulations edition tells you how to feel when you get berated for passing out these things.On the next to the last page the caption reads, "When you get past the fear of simply laying down tracts, try HANDING one to the box boy at the store." Then there's a drawing of a box boy holding one, with a smiling excited look on his face, saying, "Wow! THANKS!." Hah!
Showing how the Egyptians drowned Jewish boys to keep down the population, two men are shown tossing something into the water that goes, "splash" and a crocodile is watching going, "Mmmm. Yum, yum."
In this same edition, this boy wants his father to put lamb's blood over the doorway because all the firstborn are going to be killed unless they have this sign over the door. He hassles his unwilling father until the father asks him, "Why should you care anyway?"
The kid answers, "Papa, I'm the first born!"
Today I was reading one of Chick's tracts about what happened to the dinosaurs. He says humans hunted them for their meat. Then Chick portrays all dinosaurs going onto the ark two by two. Then he says scientists claim that the dinosaurs disappeared because of a comet hitting the earth but, Chick says, it didn't happen that way. No, what happened was that the flood killed trillions and trillions of plants, which left earth with a scarcity of oxygen, which made the dinosaurs run slower, so humans were able to hunt them down until they were extinct.
It is never explained why humans were not affected by the lack of oxygen.
What really amazes me is though, is why Chick would engage in such a grasping of straws to explain why the dinosaurs disappeared. Boggles my mind, it does.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
HOLLYWOOD, BOLLYWOOD
Blog number 324 **** 09 August 2009
So I'm watching a movie on commercial television called, "Come Early Morning" starring Ashely Judd, a run-of-the-mill, predictable, "I've seen this plot before" type of movie, but entertaining nevertheless - probably because nothing else any good is on, and I see a scene where Ashley comes upon a pickup truck being loaded with a juke box carried out from the bar which she frequents.
She goes inside and asks what's going on with the jukebox, and the bartender tells her that the patrons want new country music, being tired of old country music and I'm thinking, "What is Hell's wrong with those Hollywood people?" They think juke boxes come with music and if you want different music you have to get a different box? Am I missing something? I don't think so.
But maybe.
Nah.
So I'm watching a movie on commercial television called, "Come Early Morning" starring Ashely Judd, a run-of-the-mill, predictable, "I've seen this plot before" type of movie, but entertaining nevertheless - probably because nothing else any good is on, and I see a scene where Ashley comes upon a pickup truck being loaded with a juke box carried out from the bar which she frequents.
She goes inside and asks what's going on with the jukebox, and the bartender tells her that the patrons want new country music, being tired of old country music and I'm thinking, "What is Hell's wrong with those Hollywood people?" They think juke boxes come with music and if you want different music you have to get a different box? Am I missing something? I don't think so.
But maybe.
Nah.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
I LOVE TELEVISION
Blog number 323 **** 06 August 2009
Some years back there used to be a commercial on the telly - selling furniture, I think. Anyhow, they had a refrain, "If you can find it cheaper anywhere else, buy it."
What reminded me of that old commercial was an incident on "Cops." The officer had this guy in his car - in handcuffs, and he told the perp, "You've been Mirandized, so you can say anything you want." Hah!
Some years back there used to be a commercial on the telly - selling furniture, I think. Anyhow, they had a refrain, "If you can find it cheaper anywhere else, buy it."
What reminded me of that old commercial was an incident on "Cops." The officer had this guy in his car - in handcuffs, and he told the perp, "You've been Mirandized, so you can say anything you want." Hah!
Thursday, July 23, 2009
I STILL DON'T UNDERSTAND
Blog number 322 **** 23 July 2009
That strange weight machine in Mom's (we call her, "Mom." Or "Mother Teresa, Jr.") bathroom, I don't understand. It has four gray metal-like areas which the instructions tell you that you are to make sure your heels and balls of your feet are touching. It has a battery. So it's electrical.
I went in there this morn - nakid, and I weighed myself. One hundred eighty pounds US. I had brought in a fifteen pound barbell that I had lain on the table by the weight machine. I picked that up and I still weighed one hundred eighty pounds. Hmmm. I then stepped off the "scale," got back on and weighed exactly fifteen pounds more. So the damn thing does measure weight! I thought maybe it had something to do with body fat or something.
Maybe it is an electrical pressure type of thing, although Buddha knows how that could work.
I told the lovely Teresa about it and asked her if she ever wore shoes on it. She told me what happened, but I forgot, so I asked her again and she said the numbers stayed on zero. I don't believe that. Teresa often gives an answer to a question not asked, while not answering the asked question. So I put one of my sandals on and I weighed one hundred eighty-four pounds. Now I know my sandals don't weigh four pounds apiece, so I put on the other one too and gained a pound. One hundred eighty-five.
That's a crazy weighing machine. I'd like to been there when whomever got the idea to make that conundrum.
That strange weight machine in Mom's (we call her, "Mom." Or "Mother Teresa, Jr.") bathroom, I don't understand. It has four gray metal-like areas which the instructions tell you that you are to make sure your heels and balls of your feet are touching. It has a battery. So it's electrical.
I went in there this morn - nakid, and I weighed myself. One hundred eighty pounds US. I had brought in a fifteen pound barbell that I had lain on the table by the weight machine. I picked that up and I still weighed one hundred eighty pounds. Hmmm. I then stepped off the "scale," got back on and weighed exactly fifteen pounds more. So the damn thing does measure weight! I thought maybe it had something to do with body fat or something.
Maybe it is an electrical pressure type of thing, although Buddha knows how that could work.
I told the lovely Teresa about it and asked her if she ever wore shoes on it. She told me what happened, but I forgot, so I asked her again and she said the numbers stayed on zero. I don't believe that. Teresa often gives an answer to a question not asked, while not answering the asked question. So I put one of my sandals on and I weighed one hundred eighty-four pounds. Now I know my sandals don't weigh four pounds apiece, so I put on the other one too and gained a pound. One hundred eighty-five.
That's a crazy weighing machine. I'd like to been there when whomever got the idea to make that conundrum.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
HISTORY CAN BE FUN
Blog number 321 **** 21 July 2009
There is a new genre of history books out now. They started being written about the time Doris Goodwin's "Team of Rivals" was being written. Used to be there was not so much detail in historical figures or events, but now books like "Team of Rivals," "The Somme," "Vicksburg," etc. - books running from over 600 to over 800 pages packed full of interesting details seem to be the way to go.
There is a good word I wanted to use in place of "way to go" back there, but I just can't bring it up from my memory banks. If anyone can think of what that word might be, send it to me and you might win a brand new car!
Another interesting fact about these types of book is that they read like novels and are not that dry date-packed morass which we used to have been fed.
Goody.
There is a new genre of history books out now. They started being written about the time Doris Goodwin's "Team of Rivals" was being written. Used to be there was not so much detail in historical figures or events, but now books like "Team of Rivals," "The Somme," "Vicksburg," etc. - books running from over 600 to over 800 pages packed full of interesting details seem to be the way to go.
There is a good word I wanted to use in place of "way to go" back there, but I just can't bring it up from my memory banks. If anyone can think of what that word might be, send it to me and you might win a brand new car!
Another interesting fact about these types of book is that they read like novels and are not that dry date-packed morass which we used to have been fed.
Goody.
I LOVE GOOD PHRASES
Blog number 320 **** 21 July 2009
I'm reading this book about WW l called, "The Somme" by Peter Hart and he tells of a dispute between British authorities on how best to beat Germany.
General Haig wants to beat Germany itself, British politicians think it better to beat Germany's allies first and then Germany will fall.
Whenever these politicians visit Gen. Haig's Headquarters, he has to listen to what he terms their nonsense. Gen. Haig said of their arguments, "That is like a boxer leaving the ring to beat up his opponent's seconds."
I'm reading this book about WW l called, "The Somme" by Peter Hart and he tells of a dispute between British authorities on how best to beat Germany.
General Haig wants to beat Germany itself, British politicians think it better to beat Germany's allies first and then Germany will fall.
Whenever these politicians visit Gen. Haig's Headquarters, he has to listen to what he terms their nonsense. Gen. Haig said of their arguments, "That is like a boxer leaving the ring to beat up his opponent's seconds."
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