Jesus Christ versus a pococurante

When I first saw him he reminded me of a failed auditioner for a boy band, mostly because of the his white t-shirt underlying a thin print-pattern shirt with open sides billowing as if underwater as he paced, seemingly lost.

When I saw him again he was loudly singing songs referencing Jesus. Those around him seemed disturbed by this, but he was in his own world. He was there because he had a problem with something, and because I was at work, it was now my problem and job to help. As I helped him he asked, “Have you been Saved?” I wasn’t looking at him when I answered, “Well, I’m working here…” Meaning “Fuck No”.

Up close, Boy Band’s face was smooth and fresh but his eyes were puffy and tired. He explained how he was now 25 and had done every drug possible and hit bottom before trying God. And lo, Jesus had Saved him!

While not technically a Christian myself, I believed that Christ Jesus had indeed helped Boy Band, along with the peer pressure of the church, but I didn’t think the experience made Boy Band any smarter or more lucid; whatever potential he had before frying his circuits with drugs would remain lost. Well shit, he was only 25. Why judge?

I was mildly insulted that a “ki-dult” (25 is the real beginning of adulthood) would preach to someone older (me) but Boy Band’s torpid joy seemed real enough, and those Saved early on have a much harder road ahead of them than those who convert later (after fucking and drugging, sins denied me due to hating people).

Being at work, I only offered grunts of acknowledgment. As a customer, Boy Band could say whatever he wanted, while I was a slave. No employee enjoys this imbalance but then, I really didn’t have anything to add to his sluggish exuberance. If I wanted to risk losing the job I would’ve told Boy Band my minority opinion, which as a fundamentalist/former-druggie-now-Saved he would’ve found unacceptable: Jesus Christ is the answer, but not the only answer, there are infinite paths to God.

Boy Band said he’d say a prayer for me that night.

That was yesterday and I feel no different. I hope the positive effects of his prayer are delayed because tonight is another lottery drawing and the pot is 37 mil.

** ** ** ** ** **

Christ alone will never do it for me. I’m personally offended that He would deign to heal broken hearts when He Himself never tasted the pain of a variety of human failures, including rejection from a woman loved.

Now older than Christ at the time of his exit, I await death with the curse of a healthy body. Suicide would just leave God with a way to change the subject for calling Him out on the many, many fucked-up and stupid ways things are run around here.

So I wait, while somewhere out there Boy Band plans to be a counselor helping drug addicts. I am confident God has a few surprises left for both of us. It’s why I own a gun.

Smallville yanks the football once again, Charlie Brown

Just finished the latest ep of Smallville.

As Lionel Luthor flew (straight down) to his death he neither shouted nor flailed but smiled enigmatically. At that moment I knew it wasn’t the character but character actor John Glover who was smiling, because except for probably a few flashbacks he’s done with the ongoing disaster my once-favorite show has become.

Once again, after waiting weeks, a new episode rewards we idiot faithful with less than a minute of action in a story that stretched 10 minutes of plot into 40 minutes of shit dialogue and uninspired acting.

Everyone responsible for this show has given up. No one gives a shit. Except for the Vancouver crew behind the camera (you know a show stinks when you’re thinking about how many crew members it took to create the sets) I sense everyone is as tired and fed-up of this show as its long-suffering fans.

So now Lionel Luthor is dead, murdered by Lex. No one knows how to react to this, including the people that wrote this crap. And no one cares.

Here’s a brief eulogy:

Lionel Luthor was a character created in probably 5 minutes. He was created as a symbol of the ruthless greed and lack of creativity of Smallville’s producers. Lionel’s creation was a risky move, since there were no comic books with his backstory to fall back on then ignore.

Depending on the Thursday at hand Lionel was many things to many people: plot device, cartoon villain, Darth Vader figure to his iconic son, sociopath, evil non-genius, corporate cutthroat, philanthropist, blind man, wife abuser, killer of his own parents, government agent puppetmaster, secret society secretary, serial murderer, kidnap victim, assassination target, organized crime dabbler, exploiter of Native American Canadians, borrower of Clark’s powers and shameless flirt with Martha Kent.

He was also a foil for Bo Duke, er, Jonathan Kent, when Jonathan was alive, but that was so long ago no one remembers.

While played with sincere competence by actor John Glover, Lionel was never a likable or interesting character. Even after he was morally “changed” by discovering Clark’s secret + getting a zap from the Jor-El ex machina, he remained more or less the same, only with a flared mullet to remind others of his ruthless leonine prowess.

Speaking of leonine, Lionel Luthor was passionately in love with the letter L. Not only did he marry a woman whose name began with an L (Lillian), there was son Lex, half-brother one-shot Lucas, Lulian the dead baby, Lana, Lason, Lhloe, Limmy Olsen, Lois and Clark. (Had Clark been named Lark, Lionel would’ve adopted him outright).

All in all, Lionel Luthor was a wonderful character who helped explain why Lex Luthor has been, is, or will be evil, except when he was used by lazy writers as filler and to put the brakes on an already plodding and tedious jalopy of a plot, or once-again threatening Ms. Sullivan.

Lionel will not just be missed but SUPER-missed until the next flashback, dream sequence or the T-1000 Brainiac replicates him to fool Lex into thinking Lex is crazy. The end……………..OR IS IT?

I also got to see the rerun of the months-old episode where Lex goes to Detroit-couver to rescue Super-Blondie. I, like the other 50 or so Smallville fans left in the world, audibly gasped (or didn’t) when Lex got shot exactly where the third eye is in meditation! I was worried Lex was going to die!–just like I was worried that girl that was Luke’s mother in Star Wars Episode 2 would die in the Willy Wonka Robot Factory before getting pregnant with Luke!

Though I still have the ep starring a pack of gum to look forward to, I still pray:

Sweet Kara, Mother of Clark, make this awful season end already.