Well, it went down last night just as predicted. As I say every time I write about movies, I’m not much of a movie critic, and I certainly can’t say much about such a big movie after just one viewing, but I’ll give a few points to consider. If you haven’t read the book, these most certainly will be spoilers. If you have read the book and want to find the non-canonical elements of the movie yourself, same deal. You have been warned.

• The changes made to the demise of Gollum were dramatically minor, but theologically significant. While I realize that modern-day Pagans have found plenty of points of contact with the trilogy, the final confrontation in Mount Doom was crafted in such a way as to be perfectly compatible with Christian, even Augustinian, theology. Jackson’s version is less so. As Ralph Wood writes:
  

  When Jackson’s Frodo spies Gollum dancing victoriously with the Ring, he wrestles the wretched creature to the ground, until finally they tumble over the volcanic brink. But of course Frodo clings valiantly to a ledge as Gollum plummets into the river of fire. Nothing of Tolkien’s profound sense of providence remains, nothing of his conviction that it was first Bilbo’s and then Frodo’s forgiveness of Gollum which enabled the final victory over evil.

• Sauron’s Lawyer–sorry, I mean the Mouthpiece of Sauron–is absent. This is a minor and understandable omission from the film, but it stuck out to me. The meeting between Aragorn and the Mouthpiece, together with the Theoden/Gandalf/Saurumon confrontation in The Two Towers (which would have fit in the beginning of this movie, had there been time for it), comprise my two favorite scenes in the trilogy. Jaw-dropping, vigorously masculine projection of will from oneself against the evil intentions of others. Those parts were a great pleasure to read to my boy. This is how it’s done, son. Watch these guys.
• The siege of Minas Tirith is different. Not critically so; it works in the movie and all, but we missed out on the meeting of Gandalf and the Captain of the Nazgul after the city gate is breached. Some good, if brief, dialog was exchanged there in the book, but was completely absent here.
• Nontrivial tweaks were made to the relationship of Frodo, Sam, and Gollum. These are described in the article I linked to above (and in a post from yesterday afternoon). Disappointing and seeming pointless, but not as bad as what Jackson did to Faramir in the last movie.

Overall, still another outstanding film experience. I want the DVD. And the extended edition. Now.

I found a nifty Ethical Philosophy quiz at the indispensable Evagenlical Outpost. Joe gets a passing evangelical grade with Augustine and Acquinas as his top two. My results:

1. St. Augustine (100%)
2. Aquinas (90%)
3. Ockham (76%)
4. Kant (57%)
5. Spinoza (57%)
6. Plato (55%)
7. Jeremy Bentham (50%)
8. Aristotle (47%)
9. John Stuart Mill (43%)
10. Nel Noddings (39%)
11. Prescriptivism (37%)
12. Jean-Paul Sartre (32%)
13. Ayn Rand (32%)
14. Cynics (27%)
15. David Hume (19%)
16. Stoics (19%)
17. Epicureans (16%)
18. Nietzsche (14%)
19. Thomas Hobbes (0%)

Some quick observations:

• I’m 57% Spinoza? I must protest. I have never attempted to solve an ethical problem with a compass and a straightedge. Not even 57% of one.
• I really don’t know anything about Hobbes, or why I should be so adamantly not-him.
• I didn’t like question number three. I wanted to answer A, but it was obvious that they meant that in the Platonic sense. The proper origin or morality isn’t completely unique and transcendant, but then it really isn’t just “God’s Will,” etiher. The proper origin of morality is identical with God’s nature, so it is indeed transcendant, but not somehow separate from God himself as “unique” would imply. It is not, however, some arbitrary decision of his made logically after the fact of his existence.
• Number four…gee, do you think A was supposed to be the Augustinian answer? Heh. I picked B, Augustine Lite: a third less gunpoint conversion.
• Number seven can make you Kantian real quick. Again, I picked the Kant Lite answer: what’s good for the goose is probably also good for the gander.
• I answered C for number ten, and still I got a 50% rating for Jeremy Betham. I guess I don’t mind it if people experience pleasure as a result of moral choices…
• A 32% rating for Ayn Rand…I guess she wouldn’t like my answer of B for number nine. No wonder Vodka Pundit wouldn’t take my challenge. He’s probably appaled by my immorality!

And what would Christmas be without innumerable Christmas parties, people griping about Christmas music, compulsively updated retail sales figures, overly eggnogged divorcées macking on married men on trains¹, and the children’s pageant at church? I’ll tell you what it would be: no fun at all, that’s what.

Southern Gables’ Christmas pageant was last Sunday night. Normally this is rather prosaically called the “Children’s Christmas Musical,” or something like that. Today’s evangelicals have lost none of their parents’ drive to put on a cute show for the kids in mid-December, but we’re far too jaded and savvy just to put on the old-school Christmas play with sheep and shepherds and Mary and Joseph and Baby Jesus and the Magi. A bathrobe and a towel on the head? So 1975. Preschoolers dressed as sheep? Been there, experienced the trauma as a kid, done the counseling. A gaudy Herod costume, and ostentatiously dressed Magi? Puh-leeze.

No, none of the old and busted Christmas programs for us, thanks. We need something fresher, something more accessible to today’s churchgoer, something more in touch with popular culture. Problem is, as Kenneth Myers has explained, popular culture tends to be an inadequate container for much of the Gospel message. Its highest value is easy consumption; as such, it can never give to its participants more than they bring to the table themselves. It can never really challenge, it can never really fertilize, it can never really expand the minds of its participants. It can never contain the message of the Gospel without altering in important ways.

Now, I’d happily stipulate that the Christmas story can be expressed as a fairly simple narrative needing a less capable vehicle than is required by the whole apostolic kerygma, and in so doing bypass this whole criticism. But punched-up modern children’s Christmas musicals typically boast of their “strong evangelistic message.” They don’t want merely to be retellings of the story of Christ’s birth. Having no church calendar to speak of, non-liturgical evangelicals feel nervous if they celebrate only the birth of Christ on Christmas. There is an urgency to work Good Friday and Easter into the celebration of Christmas; after all–and this is accurate, as far as it goes–Christmas never saved anybody.

Combine this with a heaping helping of semi-pelagianism–whose antibodies, although congregations like mine might explicitly deny them, are yet in our evangelical blood–and a Christmas play for kids can’t simply be a Christmas play. It can’t just tell the story of the birth of the One we are celebrating; it has to rush into a Gospel presentation. We can’t trust God to build his kingdom through each little plank of a well-thought-out schedule of celebrations, even if some of them lack an obvious altar call at the end. Please don’t get me wrong: gospel presentations are very good things, but discomfort with the “mere” telling of the Christmas story is surely a symptom whose underlying disease we ought to cure. We will deny feeling any of this discomfort, but our cultural artifacts betray us.

Enter the refreshingly refined aesthetic of our own talented publishing magnate Stephanie Nelson. To be fair, she did not create some paragon of high culture in this year’s musical. I’m the first to admit that I am insufficiently trained to be able fully to appreciate that kind of thing, and the cross-section of southwest suburban Denverites that attend Southern Gables are on average no better prepared than I. That might be the real antithesis of the TV Show Knock-Off Christmas Musical, but the fact remains that I mostly wouldn’t get it if we did it.

Instead, our pageant was unabashedly classical in an approachable kind of way. It wanted to be old-school, and it was not sorry about it one bit. An angel choir, shepherds (and shepherdesses!), Magi, Mary, Joseph, The Baby, Gabriel, a donkey, Herod…we told the story of Luke 1 and 2 with easy costumes and timeless (to us) songs. The kids were cute. There was no pretense and no attempt to be hip or trendy. We could do this every year–creatively, innovatively, and skillfully–and I wouldn’t get tired of it. Kudos to Stephanie and the team who put it all together. (It is not just a coincidence that this team includes Mrs. Berglund. Especially big kudos to her.)

Whatever, Tim. Can you just show us the pictures of your kids?

Why, yes; yes I can. So, enough of this pseudo-intellectual cultural criticism! Let’s drop down to shameless exploitation of my children for the full cuteness effect.

My four-year-old as a part of the multitude of angels who were praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men on whom His favor rests.” Her version of events: “I got to go on the stage!”

The Sunday morning preview of the full event. My seven-year-old is on the left, and the lovely Mrs. Nelson can be seen directly behind the two singers.

Same duet, same girls, only in costume the night of the performance. Thank you for asking, but no, they don’t get cuter.

My son the urban shepherd [best photo available]. It struck me that his droopy headdress looked something like a backwards ball cap. Combined with his zip-off nylon pants, his anachronistic footwear, and his easygoing posture, he really brought an intercultural feel to the pageant that is normally all too rare in the 80123 ZIP code.

¹No, really! Last Friday on the way to the Blogger Bash. Weird, man. I’m not the kind of guy who normally attracts that kind of attention, but combine sufficient quantities of eggnog with a big crowd of people going downtown to see the Parade Of Lights, and there’s no telling what will happen.

Around nine o’clock this morning, I turned on the kitchen faucet only to find the water pressure was pretty much nil. I let it be for a while, thinking something was probably up with some water pump somewhere, and it would be back online soon enough. My most excellent neighbor called a few minutes later, saying she was in the same boat.

A quick call to Denver Water revealed that we had a broken main on our street. Funny thing is, an even quicker glance out front would have revealed the same thing: the street was totally flooded. The break was right in front of our neighbor’s house.

This’ll learn me to sleep in and not take a shower first thing. The Platte Canyon Water District official says we’ll be back online this afternoon. As I write this (at 11:45am), they are in the street locating gas pipes before the digging begins.

I’ve got a Christmas party at 7pm. A shower before then would be good. I’ll keep you posted.

Pictures, courtesy of the same neighbor who called this morning:

It’s not supposed to be like this.

This is my neighbor’s sidewalk, immediately to the south of my house. The water is flowing right about where I stop shoveling when it snows. It’s okay, they wanted to redo that landscaping anyway. No, really.

The middle of the street, just a few yards south of my property line. Spring water might sound neat, but as soon as it happens to you, it loses pretty much all of its luster.

More of the Estes Street Spring, looking across the street from my house. I’m going to have to tell the neighbors not to strike the asphalt with their staff anymore! (That pickup truck didn’t float away, if you’re wondering.)

The Dischoshaman has seven very good suggestions for improving the influence of the evangelical (or “non-liturgical” as he says) voice in the art world. We are not too stupid to do this; we only occasionally seem that way.

Well, the somewhat extraordinary process of babysitting recruitment was well worth it: the Rocky Mountain Blogger Bash 2.75 was a blast!

I was first greeted by the exceeding gracious Zombyboy, with whom I had the pleasure of a few brief conversations–may they not be the last. He is all to kind to me in his own report of the event, and in reply to him I must say that he seems at least 60% more orthodox in person than he does online, in a being-nice-to-people-who-bear-the-name-of-Christ kind of way.

I was delighted to meet none other than Linda Seebach, whom I have mentioned here in the past as a well-appreciated Rocky Mountain News columnist. She pointed out that my seemingly perfunctory “I love your work” had the mark of sincerity; apparently people who hate her column take a fairly consistent form in politely lying to her about it through gritted teeth. I was smiling as I spoke, so she fortunately took my word for it.

I would have liked to discuss the newspaper business with her some more, but time was short. I’ll save it for next time.

It was an honor to meet the great Vodka Pundit who, oddly enough, was seen drinking a martini (in becoming moderation, I hasten to add) at various points during the evening. We spoke all too briefly about his background in radio and his and Mrs. Pundit’s upcoming plans to start a family. I will actually blogroll him and read him regularly in order to keep in the loop on that business. May his tribe increase, beginning in the fall of 2004.

Having met Mr. Green in person, I do feel that a minor gauntlet needs to be thrown down. Steve, I challenge you to take the metrosexual quiz and post your result online. Hey, I did. My boy Discoshaman did, and he even got a 33 out of 50. (He wasn’t present last night, as he lives in Kiev.) You know you’ll put all of us beer-gutted, knuckle-dragging slobs to shame. So, come on: hook a brother up.

Andy is, true to his claim, actually much nicer in person. My biggest regret of the evening is that I didn’t get to spend more time talking with him; for some reason, we just weren’t at the same end of the group for very long at any point. He and I have never really crossed swords online, although it is clear that we have ample reason to do so. Meeting him face-to-face had an eerie feeling to it, like I knew him better than I actually did. I got this mental image of a Soviet and an American fighter pilot who shot each other down over some unpopulated, frozen wasteland, parachuted down to the ground together, and were forced to rely on each other to survive. You know, like some cheesy Cold War B-movie: by the campfire on the second night, looking under his ushanka and past the sapling-rotisserie rodent they were cooking for their only meal of the day, the seasoned Soviet pilot squints and says to the American, We are not so different, you and I. Both men of deep religious convictions…just, well, different ones.

I dunno. Maybe it was just me.

I spoke with Jed at some length about the software development business, how to host your blog, and why it’s just Geek-Geek-Geekier to host it yourself on your DSL line. And regarding the BB gatling gun he mentioned in his report, I have only two words: yeah, boy.

Jed and I will talk again.

Also in the geek-conversation department was Matt, whose blog is a bit on the inactive side these days. He certainly isn’t, working (and doing a bang-up job, by the sounds of it) for Jabber, whom I shamefully didn’t even know was a local company. Matt says he really loves it there, although he finds the policy of regular drug testing to be a bit draconian. (Given the libertarian leanings of most bloggers, I was surprised he’d even take a job there! It seemed like a real violation of principle, but I can understand that a guy needs to make sacrifices when he needs work.) Matt and I talked about software, video games, marriage, kids, and a wee bit about religion and emergent complexity: a sufficiently broad array of topics as to rate the conversation to be quite satisfactory.

Matt’s lovely fiancée Alison also joined in the discussion, talking energetically and knowledgably about her work as a microbiologist in cancer research. My grandmother was a microbiologist before she retired, so I’ve always had a soft spot for the profession. (I kept having this odd expectation that Alison would bake me cookies. I don’t know why.) Matt and Alison are getting married next July, and Matt needs to make sure this event goes down as scheduled, and the two of them remain in a state of matrimony for the duration of their natural lives. Matt, I doubt you’ll get another chance at bat like this one. If you need any advice, you know who to email.

By the way, I think “cancer research” actually means “cancer cure research.” I am giving her the benefit of the doubt, though. Could be wrong.

I was glad for the few minutes I spent talking to Matt Moore and his girlfriend Beth. They were impressed that I could list the initials of The Blog Of The Century Of The Week on the first try, which is apparently a rare talent; I guess I’ve got that going for me. I have never read Matt’s blog, but he will soon be on the RMBB list, as will Beth.

I met, but did not talk to for long, Walter in Denver. He wore a red baseball cap. It was a good cap. Walter, let’s chat some more next time. Also in the barely-met category was Chris Gallegos. Next time, Chris.

Colorado Conservative had to tell me his blog’s name, but once he did, I recognized him from the head shot on his site. We spoke in broad terms of each other’s blogs and politics, and his work in radio. News and traffic on KNUS will receive a new scrutiny from me now, listening for his name. That’s two media celebrities in one night, folks. That’s a lot for a banal suburbanite like me.

I can’t forget Chuck and the longsuffering Susan Pelto, who drove all the way from Pueblo to make the bash. Chuck and I discussed blog hosting, issues in Pueblo’s municipal government, theology, and cigar smoking and its proud evangelical heritage. I left him having gained both a friend and a 4½” Arturo Fuente Gran Reserva for later consumption. Adeodatus, we need to brew our next batch at my place.

As for me? I had one Sagebrush Stout and one IPA, and was in bed at about 12:15 on Saturday morning. No hangover, no smoke smell, and up early to put up the Christmas lights on the house. All in all, an incredible time, and I’ll make all reasonable efforts to attend the next one. What a great bunch of people.

Thanks to Zombyboy for taking roll and posting links; many were kiped for the writing of this report.