John Ostrander: “We hold these truths to be self-evident”
I just read where the Anglican church, now controlled by conservative African bishops, are threatening to lower the boom of the American branch — the Episcopalians — to the point of tossing them out over the issue of appointing an openly and actively gay bishop and the issue of offering blessings to same sex couples.
Never mind that the bishop in question, V. Gene Robinson, happens to be in a very monogamous relationship, or that he is, by all accounts, a very good man and capable administrator. Never mind that he is being open about his sexuality and his relationship — there would be no problem if he just kept it a secret and lied about it. Never mind that the couples in question are seeking stability in one on one relationships in a loving situation and are looking to commit to one another. Never mind that the Anglican Church has a history of not being doctrinal, of open inquiry, of autonomy for each of the Churches within its communion. What matters is that once again the Christian Right(eous) have determined that their version of the truth is the only truth and will impose that view on everyone and it doesn’t matter what they destroy along the way.
The Crusades live.
Perhaps it’s a sign of aging when you’re more attuned to what came before than what’s going on now, especially in entertainment. Oh, I’m up on what’s going on with movies and TV (less so in music) and I certainly have my faves in those areas. Recently, however, I’ve been re-discovering some music I’d had before, some TV I had seen when I was a boy, and have found that some of my favorite movies were created before I was born. This column is a grab-bag (hence "scattershot" — it’ll be our code for columns that have a variety of topics) of some of those. Given the age of the material, these are probably less reviews than post-mortems.
Back in a previous life I was a very struggling actor in Chicago. One summer I was working with a small troupe that, among other things, did children’s plays outdoors and in various venues. This particular show we were doing was called Wiley and the Hairy Man, based upon a children’s book. I played the Hairy Man – a swamp-man/boogeyman – and, while I kept getting chased offstage by the Wiley in the title, my character kept sneaking back in. It was not a part of particular subtlety but it did require some finesse. I was the monster in a children’s play which meant I couldn’t be too scary; just enough to produce the tinglies and a lot of laughs.
