Virginia Te...(click)

I've mentioned in the past how I don't really keep up with the news, almost make a point NOT to watch the news and trust the fact that any news worth knowing about will still be news 2 weeks later when I eventually hear about it and take the time to find out what happened. The way I see it, all news is partial or complete speculation and/or spin until at least that long anyway.

But as with most of the nation, I too have felt compelled to watch at least a few reports about this whole Virginia Tech thing. I just finished watching the local 11 o'clock news report about the video tape the killer sent to the news networks. Except they're not calling it "the video tape the killer sent to the news networks." No, they are calling it, "Murderer's 1800-word Manifesto." Christ. That's seriously all it took and now once again I am off the news. Earlier in the night as I was flipping through the channels in the 15 minutes before LOST came on, I stopped briefly on each of the Big 3 news nets and each one was palpably foaming at the mouth over their "exclusive interview" with the killer's roommate, co-worker, classmate, etc. etc. etc. Basically pick a relationship anybody could have had and the reporters were on them like jackals, each trying to get their own unique perspective so as to show up the other news shows. Each station had built their own animated graphics specifically for the killings, incorporating the killer's face, or crying students, or V-tech sweatshirts, or a combination of them all. Each had accompanying sound effects designed to draw the viewer's attention which sounded like some kind of video game. And goddamn if each reporter didn't deliver their standup, punctuating those key words just absolutely perfectly so that every viewer knew what they were saying was deep, dark, poignant, timeless... poetic even. You couldn't help but wonder if they were seeing the tears in the students' eyes, or the glitter of their own Emmy's.

And now, the "Murderer's Manifesto." Does everybody remember Columbine? Does anybody remember that the two killers in that massacre recorded a similar video telling exactly what they were going to do? Anybody? No, because you know what? Out of respect, they never released that tape to the public. They gave transcripts I believe, but even that wasn't until MONTHS after the rampage. But when this guy actually mailed his video to NBC, what choice did NBC have but to run it? Of course we all watched it. We couldn't help it. We're curious as hell. We want to know why he did it. Did we get any answers? Of course not, other than confirming that yes, this dude was in fact insane. But did we get any answers? No. But NBC sure as hell got ratings. You almost feel bad for them that this didn't take place during sweeps.

I really haven't spent much time thinking about the massacre at Virginia Tech at all because honestly if I think too deeply on it, I know I'll break down crying. But that's not the reason I'm vowing to avoid all news reports about the story until at least 2 weeks have passed. I'm avoiding the news because honestly I would rather think of this tragedy with all the due horror and sadness that it warrants. I don't want to roll my eyes and think on it with disgust. And that's just what watching even a collective 20 minutes of the garbage that passes for "news" this evening did to me. I want nothing more than to reach through my TV screen and strangle every reporter I see covering the event. And that is what this is you know... an "event". That's all these things ever are in the eyes of the media. September 11 was the lone exception to that rule. Every single report, every single reportER I saw covering that day was real and genuine, simply because they were covering something unlike anything they had ever seen before in their lives. Their shock, their horror, their sadness was real, genuine, unscripted. But with VA Tech... they KNOW how to cover this kind of stuff. Hell they've been practicing for this day ever since April 20, 1999.

I only saw the tease for this story, didn't actually watch the full "report", but apparently Simon Cowell is in some hot water because he rolled his eyes at an American Idol contestant who dedicated one of his performances to the victims of Virginia Tech. To Simon, I say, "Right on man." If ALL the contestants had collaborated on a company number for the victims, okay, I'd give you that, but the way this contestant did it, all it did was USE the deaths of 32 people to draw sympathy and votes for his own performance. I know that sounds cynical as hell, and I know this particular contestant actually was from the state of Virginia, but damn man, this wasn't a tragedy for YOU to make your own. I'd have rolled my eyes at THE CONTESTANT as well. And I'm quite certain that's what Simon was doing. He wasn't rolling his eyes at the tragedy or the victims of it. He was rolling his eyes at the contestant for USING those victims for his own benefit. Shame.

Shame. Just like the news organizations. This is nothing new. Tragedy is the bread and butter of the news industry. I accept that, though I decided tonight that if I were running the universe, big domestic tragedies like this would be assigned by lottery. Only ONE news network would be granted permission to cover any given tragedy. NBC would get dibs on VA Tech because CBS drew the lot during Reagan's death, something CBS was actually bummed about because their tragedy didn't garner nearly as many ratings as ABC pulled in during Hurricane Katrina when their number came up, and CNN is crossing their fingers for a dirty bomb in Los Angeles because it's their turn next. As far as I'm concerned, that is the ONLY way for a tragic event to be covered fairly, honestly and tactfully - eliminate the competition. That way, nobody stoops to dispicable levels trying to "scoop" the other networks with THEIR "exclusive witness", or their exclusive "expert" on this that or the other. And certainly nobody tries to grab viewers with big exciting words like "Murderer's Manifesto". Without competition, without the need for sensationalism, the story can simply be told and the dead can know that they were not merely pawns in some grand scramble for ratings...

Mind you, this rule would only apply for the first two weeks following the tragedy. Because as I previously stated, any news really worth knowing will still be news two weeks later. After that time, the other networks would be free to start airing the stuff they shot, or decide that after 14 days, nobody cares anymore and it's time to discuss the paternity results of the latest celebrity death triangle.

To anybody who was affected by the VA Tech tragedy, my deepest and sincerest condolences. I can't even begin to know what to say. But for now, I am going to leave you to cope with your grief without another intrusive eye looking in on you. I'll catch up with you in about 11 days.

3:16 Unplugged

So Easter has come and gone for another year. Lauren and I hung close to home since she was on call, so we missed out on the big ham dinner with the family. But as we ate our own holiday feast of pork chops and potatoes (What is it about Easter that makes us revel in eating food that Jews can’t touch? Are we trying to say, “We’re saved by the blood of the lamb so we can be as non-kosher as we want to now”?) we popped in a video that I try to watch at least once a year, usually right around this time. It’s called “Saint John in Exile” and it is a video recording of a one-man stage show performed during the 1980’s. The star of the show, Dean Jones plays the apostle John (writer of the Gospel of John, not to be confused with John the Baptist) in his old age, imprisoned on the island of Patmos. Over the course of ninety minutes, speaking directly to the audience, John proceeds to tell the story of Jesus, his crucifixion and his resurrection from his own (John’s own) point of view. What unfolds ends up being the most personal, most compelling, most strike-directly-to-your-heart account of the Gospel of Christ I have ever experienced.

The show begins with John dictating a letter to one of the local churches of Ephesus only to be interrupted by a Roman guard who he has apparently been locked in an ongoing battle of words with. And right away you can see that John isn’t your typical soft-spoken, dewy-eyed saint who preaches Jesus with calm faith and a gentle heart. He alternates between shouting at the guard for his lack of compassion and “accidentally” leaving illegal scrolls containing the gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke on the floor, which the guard conveniently discovers and confiscates. “There’s more than one way to get a pagan to read The Word,” John laughs after he is once again alone with the audience. Taking a few creative liberties with scriptural dialogue, Jones as John then begins to tell how he met and began to follow Jesus. “From the first moment I saw him I said, ‘He needs a friend,’ and I felt that I could be that friend.” John speaks of miracles, of feeding the multitudes and realizing the Lord’s personal message in it for him: “Little could be much in Jesus’ hands.”

All this preamble does it’s job of drawing you into the story and letting you identify with each character – all just regular men like you and me who somehow found themselves drawn into events and circumstances they couldn’t understand yet tried to embrace with everything they had. But it’s when Jones begins the narrative of the Passion – alternating seamlessly between portraying not only John, but Jesus, Peter, the Romans, people in the mob and Satan himself – that the story truly begins to grip you. It starts with Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem with all the people shouting praises of “Hosana” the traditional greeting for victorious kings. “If Jesus wanted the people to make him king,” says John, “all he had to do was say so…” and the religious leaders knew it. Goosebumps break across your skin with the gravity of that statement as you immediately understand how this moment would set off a chain reaction of the events to come. John tells of the haunting experience in Gethsemane and the saddened look on Jesus’ face when, in his moment of greatest personal torment, he, John had fallen asleep. John recounts Peter’s anguish at the realization that he had denied ever knowing Jesus, even though he’d swore that he would die for him, and even though Jesus himself had told him that this would happen. Free of props, makeup, sound effects, theme music or any special effect other than stage lighting, Jones depicts the horror of the crucifixion with far more truth and gut-wrenching realism than anything Mel Gibson ever drummed up. “It… is… finished,” Jones as John as Jesus gulps out hanging from an invisible cross before exhaling a long and wheezing terminal breath, and for a good fifteen seconds the theater remains dead silent. The first act ends with John weeping for himself and the other apostles, because unlike the Romans who Jesus had forgiven, claiming “They know not what they do,” John understands that he and the disciples were different… “WE KNEW WHAT WE DID!” he cries, horrified and ashamed of how they, despite the miracles they’d seen, despite all the time they’d spent together, had abandoned Jesus, denied him, let him down in his final hours. And finally John weeps for Jesus, remembering his final moments of suffering when it seemed like even he, their Lord, had lost faith as he cried out, “My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?” John collapses in a heap on the floor and the lights fade.

Act Two opens with a bit of humor involving locusts and wild honey and the impression that Peter, for as great and holy a man as he would become, was also a loveable but loudmouthed bumbling idiot who couldn’t walk and sing at the same time without falling into irrigation ditches. John then conveys the alternating feelings of grief, wonder, disbelief, hope, fear and ecstasy as he and the other disciples realize that not only has Jesus risen, but that he has come back to them just as he said he would. If their faith had been shaken by the crucifixion it was restored and solidified by his return, such to the point that they went out and preached his message wherever they went, earning for their troubles execution of every horrible means, which John recounts one by one over a choir of voices singing “Glory… Glory…”. As the second act winds down, a scroll is delivered to John at Patmos, saying that the Roman persecution of Christians has ended. John is free to go. He hastens to make preparations to leave until the Roman guard from Act One asks him to stay on Patmos and assist him with his own Christian teachings. “Lord, why do you answer my dearest prayers at the worst possible times?” John shouts to the audience’s laughter. The story ends on an inspirational note, with John relaying Jesus’ overriding message to us… so simple yet so profound: “Love one another.”

The story is not a new one. The message is not a new one. And yet this show manages to infuse both with such life, such character, such personality that few works of drama or literature have ever been able to achieve. The writing is intelligent, witty and moving. John’s monologue is never preachy, never judgmental, and yet the message is never sacrificed or watered down. And never do you feel like you’re simply hearing the same old tired lines a thousand preachers and televangelists have said and regurgitated for years. Dean Jones acts the part – all the parts – with such absolute Truth that you never doubt for a minute that he is feeling every instant of joy, pain, sorrow and rapture. He shows impeccable comedic timing, amazing dramatic choices, and you immediately accept the transitions whenever he goes back and forth between various personalities. I don’t say this lightly or cavalierly, but this is, hands down, the greatest dramatic performance I have ever seen played out by any actor on TV, film or stage EVER. Ever. Everybody should see this video if only for the artistic merit that permeates the entire production. But beyond that, people should see it for its message. It’s not a message of condemnation but of inspiration, of hope, of love. We see the passage from John 3:16 thrown around all the time these days: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son that whosoever believes in him should not die but have everlasting life.” The words lose their meaning after a while when every kook with a placard holds them up inside football stadiums or outside abortion clinics. But when you watch “Saint John in Exile” the true gravity, the true sincerity, the true Truth of these words becomes so plain and simple – stripped of politics, stripped of religion, stripped of hypocrites who would pervert the message. “Love each other as I have loved you.” Though we always try to make it more difficult, it really is that simple. He loved us. Share that love with others so the world might know that you are His.

I highly encourage anybody to find and purchase this video. Or if shelling out $25 bucks for the DVD of a twenty-year-old play isn’t your idea of a good expense, check out a local library or church. One of them is bound to have a copy to lend. However it has to be, find a way to see this show and experience the gospel told in this way. I guarantee it will be a moving experience that will stick with you for a long time.