Wednesday, March 10, 2004

Dear God

I can't stop web surfing today.

I haven't slept well in two weeks. I didn't sleep at all the week before these past two weeks. Its starting to get to me.

Last night, I could have killed my roommates over our slow-leak toilet. A slow-leak toilet is one which constantly runs, so that you have to jiggle the damn handle all the time. When the toilet makes this sound- shesheshsehshsehsheeshsehs, its the water filling in the tank. When the toilet sheshsheshshesh with a gurgle like water flowing over rocks, its the tank constantly filling with water because the dumb stopper thing isn't plugging the hole, so the water is running in and out of the tank at the same time. Its kind of like a fountain, and it kind of makes that fountain-y noise-- which, I don't know if you get this-- your toilet should never make.

And apparently, I am the only person in the entire apartment building who hears the toilet run. Do I have extra sensitive toilet running hearing power? Am I a mutant freak and my awesome inhanced genetics gave me the ability to be know when to jiggle the handle, even from large distances? Super-Plumber, to the rescue!

"Excuse me ma'am, I was flying over Toyko and I couldn't help but hear that your toilet needs a little jiggling. Domo arrigato, my friend."

So last night, I was laying in bed, late and berating myself for staying up to watch "Pimp My Ride" (Xhibit has the best hair!) when I hear the tell-tale sound of toilet malfunctioning. I sigh loudly. SIGH. SIGH SIGH SIGH- but to no avail. So I get up, walk out into the living room (passing the bathroom on my left) and say, "COULD SOMEONE FIX THE TOILET PLEASE?"

"How do I fix the toilet?"

"JIGGLE THE FUCKING HANDLE!!!"

Today, I am crazy with sleeplessness and obsessed with the idea of finding the perfect clutch bag on the internet without resorting to Amazon.com.

In the light of recent religious upheaval (see: The Passion of the Christ), I decided to give up something for Lent this year. I just so happened to be riding the bus close to a church on Ash Wednesday and saw ppl with the cross on their foreheads. Usually, I figure out it has to be Lent because Easter candy is on sale at CVS, so it must be closer to Christ's Coming Back party then St. Valentine's 'sure to get laid with this card' holiday. Every year, I think- well, I'm really too late to give something up now, it won't have as much meaning, etc etc. This season, I thought- hey, I am nominally a Christian, and if I am a Christian, and Jesus went fourty days and nights doing whatever (was he in hell? in the desert? wasn't that Moses? Man, I'm going to hell) so maybe I could hypothetically give something up.

What do I give up? Not chocolate. Not dessert. Not cartoon network or Buffy reruns-- no, I give up Amazon.com

Honestly, I CANNOT WAIT for Easter. This is the hardest thing ever. Do you know how many oh-so-innocent links there are in the world wide web to Amazon.Com???

Us Sunday School drop outs have a strange relationship with Christ. Its easy to believe in God- right? Higher power, destiny, fate, a loving force, gravity, a general sense of purpose or meaning- these are all God-ish beliefs. Something, bigger than yourself, that guides the universe. You can't ever prove its around- although my cat is constantly experimenting with gravity by pushing things off of tables all the time- but regardless, you believe in it.

However, that there was a dude some thousands of years ago who walked the earth, made miracles, died for his and all future generations of people, came back from the dead and is in fact, kind of a triplet with God and this weird spirit thing-- but is very clearly NOT an alien, a vampire, or a zombie, is a little harder then say, horoscopes.

And now, here is this movie that is going to show me exactly how my possible savior died, in all of its gory and digitally enchanced high resolution stereophonic glory. Being a product of my tv-filled generation, and an American, and a healthy consumer- I know that I am bound to have a religious experience watching this movie. That's why I haven't seen it yet. More than likely, I will be wracked by guilt, awed by majesty, and later, sitting in front of the tv, thinking about things to buy, having gotten over the religious experience just like I got over Braveheart, The Crow, Life is Beautiful, and all other assorted movies (ok, Hope Floats too) that have moved me to tears and catharsis.

I may cry at movies, but my life has never really been changed by one. Sure, maybe I dedicated myself to the thousands of pages of JRR Tolkien after The Lord of the Rings I, and ok, I'll admit it, I bought some books on Wicca because of The Craft, and maybe I even possibly found Tank Girl to be way more inspiring than it should have been, but I still KNOW that this is my trained and socialized reaction to Hollywood button pushing. If you introduce a woman who is mysteriously knowledgeable yet patient and loving and make the tough yet sensitive guy fall for her only to find out that she is dying of knee cancer, I will cry. I am smarter than that. I will still cry.

And I get that Neo is the new Messiah, the Matrix our apocalyptic doom of the near by future, and technology our sinful pride-filled downfall, but I will still be awed when he dodges bullets and reads green binary code.

But be moved by a movie that is purposefully horrific in showing God in order to bring me closer to God? A movie which seeks to move me by pushing all of the buttons that are also pushed by Keanu Reeves?? Is it meaningful to inspire religious belief by the sight of fake blood and fake gore and fake guts, hired actors, sets filmed in Canada, and thousands of extras saying words that they don't understand because the only other time you ever heard of Aramaic was in that Indiana Jones movie about the Holy Grail?

So instead, give up Amazon.com for Lent and act passive aggressive around toilets. I heart Jesus.