442: The Leader of the Dirty Dozen Disciples; The August Heat Times Five; The Next Voice of Choice

The Mysterious Ways of Lee Marvin

I was with friends, waiting to be seated at a restaurant, and I kept hearing “So and so party of such and such, your table is ready” over the speaker. Since I cannot keep my mouth shut, I joked “Christ, party of thirteen, your table is ready.” This earned me a sour look from a lady across the lobby, whom God must have endowed with keen hearing. She was wearing a crucifix large enough for a rapper or eighties’ era Madonna. I sighed, for it seems to me that God probably has a sense of humor, although many of the faithful do not.

Although I make many clever remarks about Christianity and religion as a whole, and the consensus appears to be against “organized” religion, I have a tendency to side with the fallen. We must remember it is the acts of humankind that taint the concepts of God. As usual, we have met the enemy and it is us. So, I am going to avoid taking further nasty shots at those who have Faith even though it remains difficult for me to keep my mouth shut on the subject.

Risking offense is important in writing truthfully. Obviously you cannot support stupid stuff like Holocaust denial and expect to make friends, but I feel that you should be able to shine a perhaps facetious light on religion and not risk damnation. The problem with the God of all handmade religions is that He is both a Bully and an Asshole. But I don’t think that is God speaking, those are the words of His scribes who were pretty concerned with controlling the masses. The same guys who sold indulgences; the same guys who exalted the meek and lived in luxury; the same guys who took vows of chastity except on brothel night. The same guys who did not act like Jesus (definitely not an Asshole, though a bit of Mr. Know All). Still, it seems odd to me why a person needs a bunch of instructions to know God. How can you possibly trust the messenger?

I think that a person should have a God she can relate to. A God who will listen and not give you cancer just because you ask uncomfortable questions. For no particular reason my version of the Heavenly Father is Lee Marvin. Specifically, endgame Lee Marvin, monumentally craggy and hungover and looking for his smokes while nursing a Bloody Mary for breakfast. I can see myself slipping past the guard and offering Lee one of my cigarettes, smiling, praising his singing voice in Paint Your Wagon, and steadying his hand as he lights the butt. And I imagine him regarding me with narrowed, steely eyes under bushy brows, perhaps wondering if I’m another hallucination, and apparently not caring as He waves me into the Kingdom.

I’d rather have Lee than a scowling, humourless, black pencil wielding pettifog more concerned with winning a pissing contest against Satan than the easement of pain in the souls of individual persons. I’d rather a God who lets Cats up on the counter and is surrounded by mounded ashtrays and lives in a perpetual state of The Night Before and Morning After. Heaven should be a good time, not like Sunday School–more Vegas than Vatican, because Lee knows that life seldom is. It’s a strange experience, full of ominous visions and the mysterious ways of Lee Marvin.

Five Additions to the August Heat

This week in August was further heated up by three new writers to the site and a pair of long time friends.

Tyler Wilkerson opened the week with End in Sight. The end comes to both the good and bad, funny and dour, rich and poor and living and otherwise. This work is a revelation of the sticktoitiveness of the undead. Definitely a Type A, O, and AB Negative look at things. Still, may those without sin drive the first stake. A very interesting twist on things by Tyler.

Tuesday’s It Was Best Like This by Margarida Chagas speaks eloquently of true love lost, and small experience keenly felt. And yet there is wry humor, as with “My favorite toy was a rock, I drew a face on it and made exceptionally tiny dresses for it to wear.” That is brilliant as is everything else in this forlorn little work.

You never know who will pop into your dreams and such was well presented at mid-week in Night Stranger by Torger Vedeler. It has a great contrast between family life and meeting someone quite different from the otherside.

Alex Sinclair returned Thursday with The Summoned. Alex is a master of dark visions told with a clear and entertaining voice. There’s a weird energy in his work that is utterly singular. And hoowee is it dark, but well worth the ride.

No one has been hotter this summer than Michael Bloor. Michael has been writing quality work that has appeared both during the week and on Sundays. The Disappearance is his latest. In much of Mick’s work, history is interwoven into the storyline. This one is a fine example of life, loss, renewal and the necessity, perhaps blessing, of death.

Congratulations to all our performers this week and also praise for those of you who took the time to read and comment on their works. And also my thanks to Diane for all her great header images. The fine fellow up today has the eye of God.

One of Us

The Next Voice You Hear is an obscure, underrated little film from the early fifties, which some critics find only notable because it co-starred the future Nancy Reagan with James Whitmore. In it a voice comes on the radio, which might be that of God. The downfall of the film is the voice is heard only off camera. I imagine this was due to the possibility of blasphemy. Still, if God has a voice I can imagine hearing the following persons (Lee Marvin excluded). Feel free to add to it.

And I want to thank Hugh for reminding me about the clip at the end.

• Samuel L. Jackson
• Helen Mirren
• Billy Connolly
• Fran Drescher (just seeing if you are paying attention)
• Douglas Rain (as “HAL” from 2001)
• Lemmy Kilmister
• Muhammad Ali (in this case, the voice of Allah)
• Dolly Parton (something about her cheers me up)
• William B. Davis as The Cigarette Smoking Man, The X Files
• Pee Wee Herman (in a twisted way this one makes sense)

Leila