"I Have Wasted My Hours..."

Legend has it that those were the dying words of Leonardo da Vinci, master artist, inventor, founding father of human anatomy, and all-around weirdo.

Everyone all over their shit with a certain movie and book involving his name should take his words to heart, 'cos I think they're deep in the middle of a similar exchange. In other words, all y'all, on BOTH sides of the "Da Vinci Code" fence, get over yourselves and go back to living your lives, because you are wasting your fucking hours!

A couple of years ago, novelist Dan Brown came out with a hum-drum little novel that bandied about a few hum-drum ideas from the esoteric side of religious history, and all of a sudden, a bunch of people who normally have never given second thought to anything their faith ever taught them, spontaneously blew their load over the book. Remarkably, the Christian Faithful kept an uncharacteristically low profile on the matter. While the Idiot Winds of mainstream media went ga-ga over the crux of the "Code's" ultimate mystery ("Jesus was married! He had kids! His descendants live today!!!") and whether or not it could be true, churches and evangelical groups remained amazingly staid. They would hold seminars and debates and the occasional lectures, all the while making sure to emphasize their position that their lord and saviour never, EVER had sex (because that would just be too human, and haven't you gotten the idea by now that most dyed-in-the-wool Christians hate the idea that Jesus Christ was a human being, not in any typical way--if someone were to bring up the fact that Jesus probably had to drop a duker once or twice a day, just like everyone else, the Jesus Freaks would either argue that he was never tainted by the original sin of defacation, or, if he did, his doo-doo smelled like honeysuckle), but there were no book burnings, or world-wide rabble rousing protests. It seems they exhausted themselves by boycotting The Last Temptation of Christ and Kevin Smith's ultimately harmless Dogma ("God can't be a woman!! Least of all Alanis Morrisette!")

This week though, the movie came out, and boy-o, now the shit has hit the fan. I'm supposing that the Christians figured they wouldn't make a big stink over the book, since so few actually read anything (unless it's time to proof-text the Bible for reasons it's okay to bash homos!). Now that the illiterati have a movie--with Tom Hanks!--to have the info poured into their brains, now it's time for the Church to get nervous.

The movie just came out today, thus far with mixed reviews. I haven't seen it yet, but I'm figured I'll probably end up going, mostly because everyone, knowing where my interests go, keep expecting me to, and asking if I have (I put up with a lot of that with Brokeback Mountain, and I have no idea what my peeps think about me in those regards).

I've said this in other places, but I for one think Dan Brown's story should have actually benefitted from it transfer to cinema. The Da Vinci Code is a book made for movies. The chapters are short, the language is spare and shrift (mostly because I think Dan Brown is an enormously pedestrian author, and I'm being generous there), and the plot points hit fast. Basically, the whole thing is a murder mystery wrapped up in a puzzle, with a lot of religious mumbo-jumbo as the frying pan on which this instant pancake is cooked upon.

For the record: I didn't think The Da Vinci Code was a very good book. In fact, my two word review has been thus--"Cute and trashy." I didn't even bother reading the thing until this year, because I've read pretty much every other book on the subject that Brown's novel bases its ideas on. What the fuck does someone like me need a formulaically based mystery puzzle fiction story to unveil a bunch of information I already know about--and then some? To add to my disparagement, I think Brown is a hack. It's not just his plots, which pretty much amount to, "Take controversial historical ideas with religious implication, combine with plot point techniques swiped from standard community course novel-writing class, and voila, sell to forty million easily gulled members of the public who probably zoned out through their shoddily instructed Sunday school classes". It's really his style, which he really doesn't have any to mention. His prose is clumsy, his characters as one-dimensional as a geometric line, his storytelling only marginally better than a Harlequin Romance novel--or maybe not even as good; it's been a while since I paged through one of those looking for a reasonably steamy sex chapter. Just to prove that I'm not a literary snob, I've gotten my entertainment nut off of reading the likes of Tom Clancy and Stephen King, neither one exactly Pulitzer material. But they can tell stories, even if their prose isn't at the level of someone like Jonathon Franzen or Michael Chabon.

I think Brown's novel did so well because it was the literary equivalent of a McDonald's value-meal. It was cheap, it was fast, and for a few minutes you were into the idea of consuming it. Then the stomach ache and the McGurgles roll in afterward, and you realize maybe that much starch and fat wasn't so great an idea. Plus, a lot of people genuinely found all this shit in The Da Vinci Code to be ground-breaking stuph.

Truth be told, most of this shit has been kicking around almost as long as Christianity itself. It doesn't mean it's historically true, mind you, it's just been ideas kicked around for a long time. In southern France, there has long been a religious idea known as the Cult of the Black Madonna. Literally, hundreds of churches and shrines focus on icons in black of a Madonna figure. Thing is, the Madonna being revered wasn't the Virgin Mary, but Mary Magdalene.

The idea that Magdalene was Jesus' paramour, or wife, or even mother of his children stems back to gnostic texts, as is mentioned in Brown's novel. The caveat is always how much stock to take in the non-canonical texts. Mind you, I stress not to take much stock in the actual canonical gospels, let alone the ones that existed outside of what was considered "orthodox". In my not so un-educated opinion, all the gospels and texts pertaining to the life of Jesus are, by sheer necessity, a case of good legend-building. Taking a few things that were accepted as legit events in his life, and working their message around them, with a lot of creative license. The gospels were selling an idea, many of those ideas never even brought up by Christ, or even by others during his life. They attempt to make sense of a life that, at the first look, turned out to be a failure.

But enough about that. We're talking about Jesus getting it on with Mary Magdalene. It's often stated bluntly by the supporters of this so-called "heretical" theory that no self-respecting Jewish man would have lived to Jesus' age without getting himself married, and making himself some kids, even if he was a holy man, or a would-be messiah. I'm here to explain to all of you that this is a very limited and ultimately incorrect few of first century Judaism.

Yes, it's true, the mainstream contingent of Jewish Palestinians regarded marriage and progeny as a virtual social and religious duty. Your name, your legacy, your covenant with God, was often considered contingent on your ability to squeeze out future members of Jewish culture. Irish Catholics would understand this sentiment quite well. Jesus was a pretty observant Jew, even though how liberal or conservative he interpreted said observation is often debated. However, the Essenic movement in the 1st century is just one example that marriage and children were the only path in being a proper Jew. The Essenes were largely ascetic, never married, likely remained celibate their entire lives. While the settlement of Qumran on the shores of the Dead Sea represent their "capital"--a sort of "Second Jerusalem" (or "New Jerusalem" to the most apocalypictally minded), Josephus remarks that Essenes, and so-called "Para-Essenic" movements were scattered across Judea. Many lived in the cities and towns, and so the ultra-ascetic, ultra-radical monks of Qum'ran may be seen as the fully devoted.

John the Baptist was probably an Essene, or former Essene, or some kind of para-Essene. As a result, since Jesus was a former disciple (read your scriptures carefully, all arrows point to Jesus starting out as a follower) of John's chances are, his ideas, at least at the beginning of his ministry, were likely para-Essene. That means he probably was celibate, or at the very least became celibate when he became a disciple of John.

His ideas may have changed as his ministry progressed. One reasonable theologian remarked, "If there was evidence to finally show that Jesus got married, my first guess would be that his wife was Mary Magdalene."

Magdalene is a figure shrouded in a lot of misconception. Many schooled by the Catholics often think of her and the unnamed harlot who Christ spares from stoning as one and the same. It aint the case. All that's ever mentioned about Magdalene in the gospels is that she was once inhabited by "seven devils" that Jesus had cast out of her. She also was one to forego her more "womanly" duties (i.e. her sister Martha is busy cooking and cleaning, while Mary ignores these activities in favor of sitting in on Christ's teachings). Beyond that, you're not going to get much of her until the resurrection depictions.

Apocryphal texts dig a little deeper, and some of them paint the picture of a woman much more active in the goings-on of Jesus' ministry, one whom, perhaps was granted special insight. Unfortunately, there is little to support these ideas. There is even less to really glean a romantic relationship out of all of it. Just a few lines here and there, usually ones rather broadly extrapolated. So, in the end, Dan Brown's characters plumbing the depth of the "greatest cover-up in human history" is rather overblown.

But the fact of the matter is, these are old ideas, ones that scholars have debated here and there, but still usually swept to the fringes of the historical debate. The reasons aren't quite due to "cover-up" but the fact that, too often, there are too many scholars who pay too much credence to the established "orthodox" ideas to suitably debate them.

For the record, I still side with the likelihood that Jesus was a celibate, and had no progeny, mostly because the evidence that we do have still makes sense that way. But I wouldn't necessarily rule out other possibilities. The fact that the church won't ever delve into the debate however is one, certain, undeniable fact. Christianity hasn't changed its theology in any significant way in 500 years. Point blank. The only sectarian developments of import have been in "fringe" groups such as the Mormons or the Jehovah's Witnesses (and take it in mind that the Mormons are one of the fastest growing movements in the world right now, so using the term "fringe" may soon be a misnomer).

Christianity wants it that way. To alter their course of "reasoning" to them means pulling up the anchor of their certainty. To open the door to alternate possibilities means giving up on their so-called claim to an "absolute truth." Heaven forbid that truth ever be considered in a state of evolving discovery, since to many Christians the mere word "evolution" is a blasphemy (just ask the Pennsylvania department of Education).

So when someone popularizes a different interpretation, it seems to be a knee-jerk (or perhaps goose-stepping) reaction by Christian organizations to condemn such actions, even when they haven't learned a thing about them. "Let's boycott The Last Temptation of Christ because it posits the idea that maybe Jesus had a desire to get out of the situation he found himself in at his death," (a rather reasonable desire if you ask me, but die-hard Christians rarely take to anything reasonable). "Let's burn Dan Brown's books!" Because lighting shit on fire doesn't remind anyone with any sense of history about the countless human bodies used as cord-wood during the Inquisition.

A threat to the required stasis that promulgates the further abuses of organized religion is the ultimate threat in the church's eye. Any question of its certainty wrankles the masses who don't feel comfortable when someone comes up with a potentially different paradigm of understanding. If the church had its way, we'd still believe the sun revolved around the earth, and missionaries dashing the infants of American aboriginal pagans upon rocks would still be a "moral" activity (look it up, it's fucked up).

In other words, an institution based upon the teachings of a man hell-bent on dismantling the dominance culture that took advantage of everyday people, has, throughout history, only become yet another dominance culture, taking advantage of everyday people.

I guess one should be grateful that any sort of alternative idea gains popularity among the mass culture. Sadly, taking Brown's novel as a history lesson is a far cry from becoming genuinely informed on the subject, and anyone who does is only making a straw man of themselves, automatically proving how little they really knew to begin with.

In other words, all this Da Vinci Code nonsense is pure trashy entertainment, and nothing more. Both sides have taken things too seriously, and I think both sides need to open their minds to some true, serious learning before they open their yaps. In the meanwhile, Tom Hanks will be busy running from the French authorities on the silver screen, the whole while trying to decipher the meaning of "So Dark the Con of Man."

Oh, and by the way, that "Cryptex" thing? Completely doesn't work.

(Vinegar doesn't dissolve parchment).

This Dreaming Life...

Originally written in the fall of 2005, this piece explains where the name of the site originated from. In case anyone was ever really curious!

This will be a quick one today. It's saturday afternoon, and while it's not a Hangover Weekend at all, I was still out almost the whole night--once again, trying to fool my body and the world that I can still live some rudimentary example of the rock 'n' roll lifestyle or something....sigh....sad.

And yes, there is another side of me that says "Why are you explaining the title of your new column on your SECOND issue, and not your first?" Well, it's my column, I make the rules, and I break the rules as I deem fit anyway.

"Dreaming Life" is one of those slightly abstract phrases that kinda ran threw my head a few months back, where the words just sound right when they get said or something. You have to understand, while I might devote my energies as a "sort-of" writer now in life, ten years back, I devoted most of my literate energies towards being a singer / lyricist, with emphasis on the lyricist, and so when in you're in the craft, you spend a lot of time thinking about how words SOUND together. "Dreaming Life" happens to be one of those phrases that I will turn around and around, enjoying the sound of it first, THEN deciding what exactly the fuck it's supposed to mean.

The first thing that struck me was its depiction of the vague interpretations of life's reality (in that whole existentialist / Aristotelian / Immanuel Kant "what is reality" type of way I suppose). How is it we determine what is our "Waking Life" and what is our "Dreaming Life". Which one would we rather be in. It's like that line in David Cronenbeg's The Fly : "I was a Fly, who dreamed he was a man...but the dream is over. And now the Fly has awakened." Or Kafka's short story about the guy who wakes up one day and realizes he's a cockroach.

Yeah, I know, these are the things that run through my mind while I'm busy making sure 144 units of weight loss capsules are being shipped to Wal-mart on time at work. It's that dualism that I have to live in order to avoid snapping usually.
And that's another aspect to the phrase "Dreaming Life". More accurately put, it's one of those ideas about "Dreaming OF Life", or how we interpret what our life is in our minds "supposed" to be about. Most of our lives are so profoundly ordinary, that its ordinariness becomes extraordinary. Most of the time, I can break my days down to a list of five or six major facts, and they don't even deviate in order: Woke up, got ready for work, went to work, worked late, came home, wasted time (i.e. watched tv, read e-mail, played "Age of Empires" for three straight hours), went to bed.

Rinse and repeat.

So, as Neil Peart wrote in "Losing It": "Most of us just dream about / The things we'd like to be". Or, to borrow another of his quotes: "It's understood / By every single person / Who'd be elsewhere if they could..."

Most lives are lived with inebriating regularity, only punctuated by moments of true real excitement or uniqueness, and most often, when those moments of genuine difference arise, we don't even like dealing with them. The highlights that exist outside of the normal framework of everyday life initially take on the form of a problem. "I was on my way to work, and I got into a car accident." "At work today, I got repeatedly kicked in the balls by corporate up in Toronto who can't ever get their shit together." "So this fracas breaks out in the bar, and I get blindsided in the back of the head by this beer bottle, even though I didn't have anything to do with it."

The things in life that break up the monotony are usually not that good! Every now and then, you might get one of those bones like "I talked with Vince, and we're going to open for Ron Hawkins on the 29th!" in your lifetime, or "I met this woman who is the first genuinely interesting person I've met in about a year and a half." But most of the time those events get followed up by grisly details that only end up as more fucking issues as well...i.e. "Vince only wants to pay us thirty dollars for the set," or "It also turns out that really interesting girl is on meds for bipolar disorder." You get the idea.

So it's the "Dream of Life" that we still surround ourselves with. We have a tendency to get by imagining what we think our lives could be, or ought to be. Invariably the "Dream of Life" leads to things like existential angst or the more pedestrian mid-life crisis. That whole problem of climbing a ladder only to discover once at the top that you're up against the wrong wall.
Albert Camus once wrote: "I'll tell you a secret about judgement day, my friend. It happens every day."

I used to keep that tacked up on my refrigerator. But the sad fact of the matter is, if we were to stop and judge our lives on a day to day basis, the gross and unforgiving normalcy would leave us feeling very guilty. And even those who live out what we would consider our "Dream Life" find themselves in a litany of regularity all their own (want a hint? Even rock stars live a pretty hum-drum life most of the time. If you ever followed a musician around on tour, you would see their day broken into a routine itinerary that anyone living a "normal" life would identify with--they just live on a bus for 260 days a year). Again, as Neil Peart once wrote (and I've got to stop quoting him in this piece): "Well, you get up, and you go to work." He has found that to be true from the days when he was schlepping tacky souvenirs on Piccadilly Circus all the way to now, when he's making records, writing books, and going on tour with millions in his accounts.

In effect, we are all busy "Dreaming Life" in the verb form, trying to distinguish what that's supposed to be, or what that really is, in its noun form.

Talk Hard,
The Professor