WRITINGS & NEWS
I don't post much about work, since no one really cares about someone else's job, unless you're a government agent who trains rodents how to disarm robots in the event that they rise up against us. Still, I've been working on a 3-D horror spoof film here at the church for several months, and it plays tomorrow (God willing). I'll let everyone know how it went.
Here's the trailer:
I'm fifty miles north of where the storm hit the coast, but the aftermath has been pretty lasting in our region. A week in, the majority of the town still lacks power, and FEMA is still trying to find ways to supply people with water. Living on the third floor of a fairly modern apartment building, I was mostly unaffected by the storm other than several days of having no power, just enough time to get really tired of canned beans. Seriously, I'm done.
These are some pictures I took as the storm was sweeping away. As you can see, my immediate area was fairly lightly hit, but traveling around this week, I'm realizing how incredibly lucky I am. Some friends of mine had their house destroyed by a falling tree, they'll be tearing it down to the framing over the coming months and starting over. I took some pictures today that I might post later from a much poorer community nearby. The floodwaters rose dramatically, filling most of the houses without about two feet of standing water. Driving through, the residents have dragged every bit of carpet and furniture out and left them at the curb, then gone back in and started taking sledgehammers to the walls. They're starting over with almost literally nothing, just four brick walls - sometimes less.
Here's a quick pictorial guide to my immediate area:
The approaching hurricane gave us a spectacular sunset.
Power on this side of the highway is still out.
This is the first moment I realized the storm might have hit harder than I thought.
This was not fragile-looking metalwork.
Nobody liked this restaurant, anyway.
I'll miss the Sonic, though.
If I can come up with more, I'll let you know or point you in the right direction.
The "planned community" in which I reside has built a new plaza with a large, dramatic fountain dominating it. At some point there are supposed to be restaurants and commerce buzzing all around this plaza, but right now it's just a big lit-up fountain, the planning committee apparently subscribing to the Ray Kinsella method of economics.
I hadn't stopped by the plaza until last night and immediately regretted not seeking it out sooner. The whole plaza was picturesque and filled with plenty of mostly empty benches overlooking the fountain, but the selling point was when, about ten minutes after I'd arrived, the lights went off suddenly and a lone voice drifted out of an unseen speaker:
"Why are there so many songs about rainbows...?"
It was Kermit the Frog singing "The Rainbow Connection." And incredibly, the whole fountain was synched to do a light show corresponding to the song. I immediately commented to a friend, "I love this so much I think I unironically love it."
Here's video:
Insert appropriate apologies for the lack of posting here. I've been working up a larger post on television for a bit, but I haven't bothered to go ahead and finish it off yet. It's long, so it's taking a while. I'll try to throw together some shorter posts in the meantime.
I've spent the past two weeks at home, vegging out, sleeping in, seeing old friends, and meeting my niece, the cutest baby ever made. I took some pictures, I'll post one at the end here. It's been a peaceful, lazy-sunday sort of vacation, and exactly what I needed - as soon as I get back, I hit the Christmas rush again. Outside of Best Buy, nobody gets hit with the Christmas rush like a megachurch, and I have a nasty suspicion I'm going to get a phone call two hours after my plane lands saying "can you come in right now?" I'm placing 3-to-1 odds on this if you want to get in on it. 2-to-1 on my saying no.
That being said, I adore the Christmas nonsense our town (and yes, our church) has every year, with musicals and kids' shows and garish decorations and flocks of sheep and herds of camels (we have a Christmas petting zoo/cultural exibit/camel ride station at our church. Really.) and other idiosyncracies too numerous to recount. The bombast of Christmas as a spectacle appeals deeply to me. People in the area know that it's silly and frivolous and enjoy it anyway, whereas I enjoy it because it's sillier than even they know. Growing up in megachurch culture desensitizes you to it, but the spectacle of all of this seems all the sillier in comparison to New England restraint.
I went downtown the other night with my mum in order to see the tree-lighting ceremony in the town square, which was named the Christmas Stroll or something similarly sedate. There was a countdown yelled into a cheap audio system, followed by scattered applause as about thirty-seven little bulbs lit up on the big tree. A girl scout troop sang some carols, someone had brought down a horse-and-cart and was giving out hay rides, and Mum and I helped ourselves to some free hot chocolate. Then we wandered home.
To be brief, in The Woodlands, the tree-lighting ceremony (one of three separate lighting ceremonies that they hold) involved a gigantic fake tree built on a steel frame, a little girl hitting a button that sets off the lighting display, a bevy of fireworks, and massive pyrotechnics. And that's the smaller lighting that fewer people go to. In fact, there might have been much more than that going on. I only happened to know about the pyrotechnics from wandering by as a crew of workers set everything up. I didn't stop to ask questions because, hey, that's a day in The Woodlands. For all I know, they could've sacrificed a panda to St. Nicholas that night. If anyone's up for gambling, I might even give odds on that.
So to finally reach my point: I'm excited to go back. There's bound to be chaos and spectacle every night of the week, and I promise you at least one story from the Christmas musical this year. It's destined to be memorable.
It's going to snow tonight, my last chance to see it again before I leave. Can't wait.
Alright, just as I promised you, here's that pic:
Alright, I give up:
Can someone explain Arcade Fire's Neon Bible album to me? It's one of my favorite albums of the year, especially since a) I live in The Woodlands and b) I work at a church.
You see, the lead singer of Arcade Fire, Win Butler, grew up in The Woodlands (and went to high school at Phillip Exeter in NH, interestingly). I ran into Andy Osenga shortly after he bought the album, and he suggested to me that the whole Neon Bible album was probably about church in the Woodlands. "It makes sense," he noted. "I've never met anyone from the Woodlands who didn't work at a church."
Butler eventually packed up bags from The Woodlands, moved to Montreal and started Arcade Fire. On one of his first albums, he wrote a song called "The Woodlands National Anthem," which I don't pretend to understand but I've included lyrics for those curious.
But Neon Bible is several steps beyond just one cryptic song. Filled with accusatory tunes like "Neon Bible" and "Intervention," which includes the chorus "working for the church while your family dies," it's tough for someone in my position not to listen to the album with a careful ear. The band recorded the whole album in a church (how's that for symbolism?), and their tour is decked out with religious symbols - in neon, appropriately.
So, I've done the Google search in the title in several different variations without any real success, though I have uncovered a lot of people who feel the whole thing is a grand metaphor for Bush. Surprise.* And so this is my plea: could someone who comes across this post through web searches or linkings or what have you please explain to me what this whole album is about, and what The Woodlands has to do with any of it?
And now I play the waiting game.
*By the way, if this post is found by one of those grand-metaphor-for-Bush people, could you please not leave messages like "anyone who doesn't think this album is about Bush has his f---ing head in the sand," or "it's such a f---ing cop out to think that this album isn't about Bush," etc. You may in fact be right - I'm willing to listen to such theories - but I've just read enough abrasiveness for right now. Make your case in the Queen's English, please.
