[Our Sunday Visitor, May 27, 2003]
Finding Nemo
You probably don't need any encouragement from me to see Pixar animation studio's new feature, “Finding Nemo.” If you have kids in the house, they have been clamoring about it for weeks. You can't turn on a TV without seeing the dazzling colorful ads. You can't go to the store without passing mounds of Nemo plush toys. If you huddled on the floor with your arms crossed over your head, someone would still shove Nemo fast-food coupons under the door.
[Our Sunday Visitor, May 27, 2003]
People may disagree over whether a glass is half empty or half full, but both sides have to admit that it's about half what it could be. “Bruce Almighty” is about half of “It's a Wonderful Life,” the 1939 classic that it admires so much. On the plus side, it's got Jim Carrey in fine form, crackling with better-than-average lines and excellent timing. I'm not a fan of Scary Carrey, although some viewers prefer the hypermanic vicious Jim of earlier films.
[Our Sunday Visitor, May 19, 2003]
The Matrix Reloaded
George Lucas, watch your back: the Wachowski brothers have gone and made a Star Wars movie. The writing-directing team that gave us “The Matrix” (1999) is back with “The Matrix Reloaded.” It’s got a multi-level industrial hideout for the good guys. It’s got giant walking robot thingies. It’s got grandiose background music. It’s got gray-haired councilors saying grim and ponderous things. It’s got bold crews on ships—not a space ships, but ones that travel inside the earth, so I guess they’re dirt ships.
[Christianity Today Online, May 11, 2003]If you can read this, you're probably not waiting in line at a movie theater. If you don't know why people might be waiting in line at a movie theater, you need to come out of that fallout shelter. Fans have been anxiously anticipating the release of The Matrix Reloaded ever since the house lights came up at the end of 1999's blockbuster, The Matrix.The Matrix is surely the most overanalyzed movie since they invented Christian film critics.
[National Review Online, May 9, 2003]
Got big plans for Mother's Day? Candy and flowers, hugs and kisses? Maybe snapping some heartwarming photos of Grandma with the multiple generations of progeny gathered all around?
Boy, are you out of it. Didn't you know that playing with grandchildren is something women do just to keep themselves from thinking about how they've wasted their lives?
I blush to say that I was one of the people who thought Y2K might mean a world's end-- some kind of ending anyway. Not to the extent of a friend who talked about converting all her assets to gold coins
[Today's Christian, May-June 2003]
Q. I'm a 25 year old single lady who loves the Lord. Lately I've been very confused about how to find the right partner. In my church, dating is viewed almost as a sin. They believe in the praying method--that God will show you the right person when he's ready. I've watched a lot of young people in my church follow this model, and almost four out of five ended up being miserable--some have even backslid.
[Our Sunday Visitor, May 4, 2003]
Anger Management
Gooze-frah-bah. Feel better? That’s a phrase taken from a lullaby that Eskimo mothers use to calm their children. Or so says Dr. Buddy Rydell, anger management therapist and author of “K(no)w Buddy Cares.” In this chewy role Jack Nicholson wears a beret, goatee and an incessant grin, and oozes with know-it-all condescension. If you weren’t angry before you met him, you will be.
[The American Conservative, April 21, 2003]
Feminist Fantasies, by Phyllis Schlafly, Spence Publishing, 262 pages
Not every fifty-something mother of six decides to go to law school; not every one who does graduates near the top of her class. Not every woman juggles these high-octane pursuits with a syndicated column and an uphill battle against the Equal Rights Amendment. But then again, not every woman is Phyllis Schlafly. You can hear three decades of bruised feminists breathing “Amen.”
[Unpublished, April 2, 2003]
There’s a song in my heart. Sorry. I’ll try to keep it to myself.
As a rule I haven’t been successful at this. All through the years, my kids would ask, “Mom? Are you singing again?” and I’d look down and discover I was.
It might not have been so bad if I’d been softly murmuring “O-o-o-o-o-klahoma” or “We Will Rock You” or some other lilting air. No, it tended to be songs that I made up myself, though not intentionally. Songs would come evolving from random thoughts revolving, and gradually work their way up to audibility. Generally, these were not exciting songs. However, they tended to be annoyingly memorable.
