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The Rubicon

Thursday, August 5th, 2010

Rubicon is the new spy thriller on the AMC channel with compelling artistry, but who knows if it will ever be anything but a mystery wrapped in an enigma? Darlene wants me to watch it with her. It takes a snapshot of the deep longings of the heart, and Dar loves to have her heart tickled that way. But do the writers understand the mysterious currents running through our collective unconscious as well as her husband does?

The opening scene is a grey-brown winter day on a New England estate, a mom and kids running across the lawn, while the cameras zoom into the English Tudor mansion towering in the background…through the window, the rooms, and on grey face in the shadows. It’s a recognizable actor, the dirty cop in Scarface. He cost a pretty penny, it’s not low-budget, I think.

He comes out of the dark shadows and looks out the window at his wife and kids, waves and smiles, then blows his brains. They didn’t pay too much for that appearance.

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They killed him in the first few minutes

It gets more paranoid. “Not every conspiracy is a theory,” is the slogan. What gives it an edge is the loneliness of the main character. His wife and child were killed in 9/11. He works in a nameless spy agency, against unknown enemies, and his only friend dies in a train wreck, but it maybe it was a murder, who knows?

It strikes me these writers understand the loneliness that runs so deep inside, and the fears, anger, worries, memories we cannot share.

We forget how widespread the loneliness is. The nightmare of it is in dealing with the paranoia alone.

The name is paranoid. The Rubicon is a river near Rome marking a boundary no Roman legions could pass without Senate approval. It was the Senate’s safeguard against a coupe by ambitious generals, like Julius Caesar, the general who did cross the river and named himself Rome’s first Emperor. In their infinite wisdom, the Senate did not anticipate that someone might just lead his legions across the river anyway, and who could arrest him?

"But nobody has crossed the Rubicon for a thousand years!" a startled Senator exclaimed. They trusted the mysterious power of tradition to control minds, which usually works, until a Caesar appears. What is that power traditions hold?

Jesus Christ did the same thing, but different. He too rejected the religious traditions that lock people’s minds, but Jesus actually won against the guardians of tradition. Julius lost.

The Senators secretly drafted a new resolution to close the Rubicon loophole by stabbing him in the back (30 times) as he entered the Senate chambers—without his legions. They can always get you, if not this way, then that. It sounds paranoid, but not once you meet someone like Brutus, the mind behind the conspiracy. 

Julius never saw it coming.  "E tu Brute?" were his last words. Every first-year Latin student knows it means, "You too, Brutus?" Despite his brilliance and courage as Rome’s greatest conqueror, who could out-think, out-maneuver and destroy the best armies in Gaul, he could not see betrayal in the heart of his best friend.

When traditions are challenged, people like Brutus get terrified beyond reason. He jettisoned his loyalty to Julius because he was more loyal to Roman tradition, so he assassinated his friend.

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Funerals make great paranoid events.

Jesus faced the same fanatic traditionalists, and they too conspired to murder him in an illegal “trial” held secretly at night, breaking many traditions to preserve the traditions Jesus threatened. Yes, it is inconsistent, but it worked—for a few days. In their infinite wisdom, the Sanhedrin did not anticipate the resurrection, like the Senate did not anticipate the Rubicon loophole, but how can anyone anticipate a resurrection? (Well, they did have Isaiah’s prophecies from centuries earlier.)

Jesus won against the Titans of tradition through his love, whereas all the legions and fear commanded by Julius could not hold the loyalty of Brutus and the Senate. The disciples of Jesus remained faithful and they loved him and died for him. They lost all the security of their Jewish identity when Gentiles swarmed in the Jesus Movement, and they were rejected by countrymen, neighbors, sometimes families and friends. Jesus bred an amazing loyalty that even surpassed the security of cherished traditions.

This is how to win against conspiracies and enemies of all kinds:

I no longer call you slaves, because a master doesn’t confide in his slaves. Now you are my friends, since I have told you everything the Father told me. John 15:15 (NLT)

…He had loved his disciples during his ministry on earth, and now he loved them to the very end. John 13:1 (NLT)

It’s the paranoia. The writers of Rubicon touched the paranoid thing deep inside everyone, whether we know it or not. Paranoia creates the rabid fanatics of tradition, like Brutus and the Senators who would assassinate Rome’s best general to preserve tradition. People cling to dead, institutional religions because they feel safe, although bored to death. People keep working dead-end jobs because they feel safe, and people tolerate gross sexual abuse in families because they fear losing the security of a family, despite the abuse.

Paranoia is everywhere, in everyone, and Hollywood makes good money with Slasher films and dramas capitalizing on it. Madison Avenue markets paranoia, like the fear of bad breath, rejection, new car safety features, and they create a host of new fears that now rule the modern mind.

The Rubicon writers nailed it: “not every conspiracy is a theory.” Conspiracies surround us, everywhere. Friends talking behind friends backs, parents who plot how to catch their kid doing something, the whispers between kids, and even at school and work the administrators conspire how to control their underlings. The motivation for our Constitutional freedoms of the press and speech is the defense against conspiracies.

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Paranoia is everywhere

Loneliness intensifies paranoia. In a loveless world, paranoia rules. In God’s world, love rules. That’s the difference between the worlds of Julius Caesar and Jesus Christ.

My Last Blog, Ever

Monday, July 5th, 2010

I may be murdered tonight, so I’ll write this blog just in case. If I don’t return from Bow Wow Beach, let everyone know I was murdered, and let them begin dredging that pond for my body.

No, I’m not kidding (very much).

Bow Wow Beach - the crime scene

Bow Wow beach is a little fishing pond in Stow which was recently opened up for pooches to poop on the sandy beach and frolic in the water scaring the fish. It seems  innocuous enough, but beware! Lurking beneath this doggie haven are the simmering tempers of crazy pet-owners waiting to burst against innocent fishermen (and boys).

The last time I went there with Connor, my 14-year-old son, we were trounced-upon by five red-faced, livid dog owners shrieking at us for endangering the lives of their dogs! Their rage went from non-existent to mob violence in a flash.

It started with a livid (BIG overweight) grit striding quickly towards Connor and I with his (BIG overweight) wife and white poodle in-tow:

“Are you crazy? What do you think you’re doing? Don’t you know fishing is not allowed here?” he was shouting at us as he approached.  “I am on the Parks and Recreation board, and you can’t fish here!” (more…)

Why Not Brag About a Son?

Sunday, April 11th, 2010
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Kyle goes up to receive his award

Christians aren’t supposed to be big braggarts, or so they say, but can I make a big hullabaloo about my son Kyle’s scholarship and award ceremony? I certainly never received any scholarships or award ceremonies throughout my academic career, and neither did my scurrilous brothers, so maybe I can cheer up old grandpa & grandma this way – there’s still hope for the McCallums after all! (Darelene was High School valedictorian, so the Termans probably consider this normative.)

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Carries himself with aplomb.

Much like his mother, Kyle carried himself with respect and decorum throughout the 90-minute ordeal while chiding the old man occasionally for disruptive behavior.

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A disruptive old man.

He won a Michael Taylor Public Relations scholarship based on academic achievements, his portfolio, and an essay they read to the crowd. I couldn’t help but hear, “I grew up in a home that valued communication…” Maybe that line didn’t win the scholarship, but it sure won a place in his old man’s heart!

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With fellow-recipients, the blonde immediately drew a broad Kyle-smile!

“I Wanna Join a Cult, Ma!”

Friday, May 8th, 2009

That’s what it sounds like these days if a kid gets too excited about Jesus Christ: “You’re in a Cult!”

I first encountered this when I started a Bible study with Kyle, my 7th-grade son, and Sean, my handicapped, 8th-grade son. It was a circus, or what some would call a “Cult”.

The Wonder Years
The “Wonder Years”

“Wonder” was my co-leader (Neil Wonderchuck), with a bare-breasted woman tattooed on his arm (crude, but nice boobs!), and he always wore wife-beaters to show it off. Not quite two years old in Christ, “Wonder” soon took a Sabbatical to study “The Attraction of Canine Regurgitation Habits in North America”, or some nonsense.1  But we did start a Bible study with a motley crew of Jeff, Steve, Tom and BK. The kids were mostly interested in hanging out at the Black Wolfe pool hall after a brief Bible study.

Some new kid came one night, and we were entering the pool hall when his mom came peeling into the parking lot and shouted through her car window: “Get in!” (more…)

  1. A reference to 2 Peter 2:22 []

The Burning Bush

Monday, April 13th, 2009

Remember when Moses met the Burning Bush, and it turned out to be God? Well it happened again the other night in Stow, Ohio, but it was my house on fire, like the Burning Bush. And the Lord was there in a big way, too! (No joke!)

We didn’t didn’t get the dramatic opportunity to save mankind like Moses, but we did get “the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension.” (Phil.4:7). And I’m OK with that. Sean, Connor and I huddled together and watched the home burn, and we had a real sense of gratitude and peace.

Connor laughing with Sean as their house burns.

Connor laughs with Sean while their house burns.

Which is amazing, because a tempest swirled around us. Five fire trucks descended on our home, sirens blaring and huge spotlights blasting the bedroom windows up and down the street. (Firemen want an audience, I think; is there any other reason to use sirens at 1 am on a residential street?)

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What neighbors saw from across the street.

View from McCallums side of the street

View from McCallum's front yard.

About 20 firemen brushed back and forth past our little 3-person huddle. Firemen are really aggressive, like football players. Get out of the way or get mowed-down! They jostled us, and we tried to get out of the way, but with so many running across my little front yard, it was useless–we were bumped everywhere.

Fire is out, but firemen tear down remaining roof...

Everyone has a job, so they just attacked our house like charging NFL players, but with axes, sledgehammers, chainsaws, pikes…and then, three hoses uncoiled, straightened, and blasted the flames. Oh, I was relieved, until chunks of roof flew away.  (I pictured the Civil Rights movement and those brave, poor people blasted by fire hoses.)

They squeezed the fire between two groups: one fighting down into the flames from the roof, the other fighting up into the flames from Connor’s room. Others kept bringing more tools, like spotlights or heaters, probes (?), pumps and weird things.

M. Michalek is bummed -- his old office is ruined!

They chopped and ripped away the roof and ceilings, then the chimney came out of the house somehow and lay on the grass (happened so quick I missed it).

Next day--chimney removed, roof patched...very efficient!

Easter morning: dead chimney on ground, roof patched--efficiency!

The original Burning Bush wouldn’t be fazed by their hoses, but mine died–and now it just stinks: there’s the difference between me and Moses, I guess.

  • Amazing Fact #1: Jesus rescued my family at 1 am Easter morning–about the same time he resurrected from the grave, Israel time…what an Easter anniversary! Coincidence? No matter–we’re very thankful no matter what.
  • Amazing Fact #2: Dar and I discuss, “How will we pay for the extra costs? How will we get such-and-such?” Prayer. Literally minutes later relief arrives: our amazing brothers and sisters showed up with clothes, emergency cash, necessities of all kind, and a bottle of vintage Bordeaux!
  • Amazing Fact #3: That Saturday AM I teach about revolutionary living, like Jesus, who said, “…the son of man has nowhere to lay his head.” I show the photo below and said (jokingly), if Dar and I end up living in something like this, without a home, that’s perfectly fine. (With caveats, as stipulated below.) Less than 24 hours later, we’re living homeless, in our van!
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Our future home?

Colors

Before dawn, two carpenters were the last to leave. We talked about Easter and our families. They told me about a house they boarded-up last week where a little boy died in the flames.

The firemen could not find the boy in time.  Little kids hide when they’re really scared, like in a fire. Our little dog Gizmo did the same thing, and I couldn’t find her, then the lieutenant yelled at me to stay out of the house. Connor was in tears about Gizmo, but when I got back in there I found her shivering in our closet, like a little kid would do.

”The atmosphere is different when someone dies like that,” one said.

It was Resurrection Sunday: Easter.

It was dark and cold, clear, and dotted stars yielded to colors stretching from the East. I cried a little, relieved, but mostly just shared things deep inside with the Lord, and speechless: so nice it is just to know him, even if Connor died in the fire.

The fire burned quietly over Connor's head, and we smelled nothing. But Sean heard crackling...

Connor almost died, but now he was safe with Gizmo at Kyle’s apartment. I watched my barely-adult son walk away, his little brother’s hand in his grip. He inserted calm, grownup words in-between Connor’s high-pitch chattering. Connor would much rather go home with Kyle than come to a motel, he said.

Dawn: it all streamed through my heart in clipped pictures, and it was calm inside. I was ready for sleep, and it was so quiet outside. Beautiful colors. Resurrection.

Resurrection morning

Resurrection morning at Saybrooke Blvd.

Check it out Kyle

Sunday, February 8th, 2009

Famous son of a famous father.Kyle, there’s your dude “Black Keys” getting ready to play in Akron. Read the story by “MalcomX Abram”, the Beacon-Journal music writer.

For the rest of you, this guys is coincidentally J. Carney’s son, the ABJ reporter. Read about Kyle’s ironic discovery, it’s a real hooter. According to the reviewer, Black Keys is becoming more “pastorly” with their latest album release — is this a coincidence?

For Black Keys fans, Keep It Hid is not quite as much of a revelation as Attack & Release, which showed what the boys were capable of when not limiting themselves in the studio. But the album…can trade blunt force for pastoral melodies without losing the music’s power