Those of you who have been around for a while know I’m an unabashed Homer Simpson disciple. He often sums up American society so succinctly there simply isn’t a better way to put it. One of my favorite instances of Homer’s insight comes after being flung into a porta-potty by a run-away rhino who then punches holes in the honey bucket with its horn until homer breaks down into the following prayer:
“Oh I’m gonna die. Jesus, Allah, Buddha, I love you all.”
If that scene doesn’t hit home for you, how about my other even-more-favorite-pithyism Homer emits after being compelled into the Christian mission field on a tropical island somewhere in the Pacific ocean. While en route he yells:
"I’m no missionary! I don't even believe in Jebus!" [pounds on airplane hatch] "Oh save me Jebus!”
Homer’s insight in these comic scenes is that we never quite believe in the things we say we believe in. Or at least our actions don’t often match up with our stated beliefs. While it is one thing to claim I don’t believe in Jebus, it’s quite another thing when I’m put in a situation where I need Jebus to save me. Maybe Jebus is real after all. Or in the first example, it’s best to hedge my bets and blanket all the saviors I can think of. You never know when one of them might pay off. In yet another of Homer’s heart felt prayers he spreads the love even further afield:
“I'm normally not a praying man, but if you're up there, please save me Superman.”
Whether directed to the savior of the D.C. Universe or Elohim, we humans tend to cry out in times of distress for someone or something to save us. Often these prayers of distress don’t match up with our rational confessions during times of calm. We claim to believe in such and such when everything is going according to plan, but then we flip-flop when the poo hits the fan.
I’ve noticed this in spades over the last several years. I often live and breathe in liberal-conservative, Christian circles. For good and bad, it comes with the territory here in southwestern Idaho. At the same time, I intentionally digest content from more liberal-liberal sources based around the United States. While the terminology changes drastically, both sides can often be found offering up prayers for salvation.
In classic Homer Simpson form, these prayers are hilarious and come out as close variants to stuff like this:
“Oh mighty deliverer, D.C. outsider who declares cultural truth even when it’s politically incorrect, save us from this illiberal tidal wave of liberty crushing debauchery!”
“Oh champion of human dignity and challenger of bigotry, lift us out of this downward spiral of hate-filled, illiberal superstition and liberty crushing religiosity!”
The strange thing about these prayers is that they are always cast on feeble, professional campaigners. I mean, Wolverine can at least kick some bad guy booty. Have you seen his retracting, Adamantium claws in action? Those things can rip through practically anything! Under certain circumstances, Wolverine is worth calling upon for rescue. Granted, he’s a fictional character. And as far as I can tell, people like AOC and JDV are actual people. But capable of saving me? I don’t think so.
These people are simply not prayer worthy. When the poo hits the fan in my world, I promise you my final thoughts are not going to be aimed toward Joe Biden or Donald Trump. I have a savior already. I don’t need another one. And even if I didn’t believe in any sort of cosmic or divine messiah, I wouldn’t put either of those humans even in the top 1,000,000 potential candidates. I have Homer Simpson and Wolverine well above both, even as fictional characters.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating against being political. Being political is more important than ever these days. (I do advocate against being partisan, but that’s another matter.) Politics are supposed to be about setting rules and guidelines so that we can live together in healthy communities. How can we do life together so that everyone enjoys the same “inalienable rights” we claim to believe in here in the USA?That is what politics is supposed to facilitate.
What I’m advocating against currently is the confusion between prayer and partisan politics—the savior of my soul and the savior of my political party. As we enter this election cycle, I beg of us all, don’t fall victim to the impassioned campaign prayers offered by others. No professional campaigner is capable of becoming our American Messiah. Skilled mostly in gaining votes and winning elections, they are barely capable of bureaucracy much less salvation.
From the Desk of DMB
This week I had to push through some of the ideas and heady stuff that I still hadn’t gotten into the text. I know I’ll need to come back through and smooth some of this stuff out. Currently, I’m making sure the ideas are pure in my head and figuring out ways to have my characters express them that ring true to their nature. It’s been awkward to say the least. But as I push into the action of the climax and the falling action, my hope is that I’ll find natural places to express this stuff so that it doesn’t come out in clumps of dialogue that stand out too much. Since this is really the first book of this type I’ve attempted from beginning to end (well, in the last 15 years anyway) I’m having to learn on the fly. It means more work on the rewrite, but I’m confident I’ll get there eventually!
If You Wish to Start Reading The Green Ones…
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