This is a dangerous link: the Omnificent English Dictionary in Limerick Form. A number of obsessed lunatics have been submitting limericks on each word in the dictionary — they’ve got over forty one thousand entries so far — so it can just suck you in.
Here, try looking up limericks on evolution. The really hazardous part is when you start thinking you could do a much better job than that…
Hey, Stevens County and all the residents thereabout: you can catch a performance of Inherit the Wind tonight at 7, or tomorrow in a matinee at 2, in lovely Barrett, Minnesota. I’ll be there. My colleague in the biology department, Van Gooch, will be acting in the show, so UMM people should definitely go.
Chris Clarke claims I’m doing a cameo in this video. Was I the jogger? The policeman? The nun? The construction worker? Oh, hey…there I am. Nice outfit.
Chris also wants me to introduce him to Julieta. Sorry, Chris, I think she’d find your appendages…inadequate.
Arrrr, curse ye, jpf. How dare you reveal this abomination to me? What’s this crazy born-again doing reviewing a pirate movie as a justification for his dogma?
But back to Jack for a second — sorry, Captain Jack. I was thinking about one of the central themes of this movie which involves the principal characters, one that you’ve most likely picked up on it as well:
Resurrection from the dead
As it turns out, getting swallowed by a nasty beastie called the Kraken is a bad thing, so one of the key story lines in this film is a desperate need for Captain Jack to come back from the dead so the forces of evil can be defeated.
And also as it turns out, we all have a Kraken of sorts on our tail as well … and unfortunately being on shore doesn’t keep us safe. Our nasty beastie is called death, and one day it will find us. We need someone to rescue us when that happens — to resurrect us so we can live out our eternity that way God intended it — which is in heaven with Him.
Jesus Christ defeated the Kraken called death. Like Jack Sparrow, he willingly jumped into its jaws to save others. But here’s the most amazing part … Jesus didn’t stay there. He came back so that we too could come back from the dead as well!
Look, Pirates of the Caribbean is fiction. That characters in a cartoon-quality story pop back and forth from the living to the dead and back again does not say anything to support your quaint superstitions about Jesus. Quite the contrary, it says that resurrection is a familiar (and lazy!) trope in fantasy stories, and if there’s any conclusion to be drawn, it ought to be that, gee, this bible story sure does sound as silly and improbable as a tale about a pirate getting eaten by giant cephalopods and getting rescued from Davy Jones’ locker by people with a magic compass. In fact, it ought to tell you that the bible is inferior. No pirates. No cephalopods. No swashbuckling. No undead monkeys. No men with tentacles.
Go ahead. Compare the bible to a fairy tale. I’m one up on you—I can recognize a fairy tale when I see one.
Here’s a cute cartoon: Moral Orel learns about the book of Geniusis. I hadn’t seen this series before, but it’s much, much better than the preachy Davey and Goliath shows I remember seeing all the time as a kid (which I have just learned was of Lutheran origin. Figures. It was so darned bland.)
That was a sigh of contentment. I went off to see the latest Pirates of the Caribbean movie with very low expectations—like the last one, I expected an extremely muddled plot, lots of random noise that didn’t carry the story forward, and many places where the movie could have been edited down a bit. I was right! But it also had wonderful naval battles, glorious swashbuckling, and finally, the lady lead acquired a bit of ferocity. I just sank down in my seat and savored the unabashed piratey goodness and didn’t worry about the details, and all was well.
Except for one thing: finding my favorite character washed up dead on a beach in an early scene in the movie was very disappointing. I wiped away a tear and just imagined that she’d left behind a swarm of progeny that were flourishing off-screen.
Dr Joan Bushwell makes a find: Mitch Benn’s rock anthem to Richard Dawkins. It is most excellent party music.
James Kakalios gets to use the latest Spider-Man movie as an excuse to explain the physics of granular materials in the New York Times. Good thing they didn’t ask a biologist about Sandman … all I could think about was that there was no way a loose aggregate of coarse sand would be able to mimic the function of the human brain, which is built upon the sub-micron-scale specific organization of diverse molecules. I would be such a wet blanket.
No, wait, I did think of another thing: could you incapacitate Sandman by dumping your cat’s litterbox on him? I’d think he’d go running off to do some emergency particle segregation right away.
I will say that the Sandman special effects were the best part of the movie. The rest — plot, acting, dialogue — eh, not so much.
Rumor has it that Hammer Films might be coming back—I don’t know if this is good news or not. I love the old movies and have a stack of their DVDs right next to me, but all the money in horror movies seems to be in ghastly 1½ hour extended torture scenes, like the hideous Hostel and unwatchable Saw series. Let’s hope they don’t taint the brand by putting some hack like Rob Zombie to churn out seedy, misogynistic squish-and-splatter flicks.
