Total Perspective Vortex
What really happened to Trillian? Theories abound, but you can see what she's really been up to on this blog. If you're looking for white mice, depressed robots, or the occasional Pan Galactic Gargleblaster you might be better served here:

Otherwise, hello, and welcome.
Mail Trillian here<

Trillian McMillian
Trillian McMillian
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Women, The Internet and You: Tips for Men Who Use Online Dating Sites
Part I, Your Profile and Email

Part II, Selecting a Potential Date

Part III, Your First Date!

Part IV, After the First Date. Now What?

"50 First Dates"

Don't just sit there angry and ranting, do something constructive.
In the words of Patti Smith (all hail Sister Patti): People have the power.
Contact your elected officials.

Don't be passive = get involved = make a difference.
Find Federal Officials
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or Search by State

Find State Officials
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or Search by State

Contact The Media
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or Search by State

Words are cool.
The English language is complex, stupid, illogical, confounding, brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating.
Every now and then a word presents itself that typifies all the maddeningly gorgeousness of language. They're the words that give you pause for thought. "Who came up with that word? That's an interesting string of letters." Their beauty doesn't lie in their definition (although that can play a role). It's also not in their onomatopoeia, though that, too, can play a role. Their beauty is in the way their letters combine - the visual poetry of words - and/or the way they sound when spoken. We talk a lot about music we like to hear and art we like to see, so let's all hail the unsung heroes of communication, poetry and life: Words.
Here are some I like. (Not because of their definition.)



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11/17/13 12/1/13 - 12/8/13 12/15/13 - 12/22/13 12/29/13 - 1/5/14 6/29/14 - 7/6/14 9/14/14 - 9/21/14 9/21/14 - 9/28/14 10/12/14 - 10/19/14 11/23/14 - 11/30/14 12/7/14 - 12/14/14 12/28/14 - 1/4/15 1/25/15 - 2/1/15 2/8/15 - 2/15/15 2/22/15 - 3/1/15 3/8/15 - 3/15/15 3/15/15 - 3/22/15 3/22/15 - 3/29/15 4/12/15 - 4/19/15 4/19/15 - 4/26/15 5/3/15 - 5/10/15 5/17/15 - 5/24/15 5/24/15 - 5/31/15 6/14/15 - 6/21/15 6/28/15 - 7/5/15 7/5/15 - 7/12/15 7/19/15 - 7/26/15 8/16/15 - 8/23/15 11/6/16 - 11/13/16 6/24/18 - 7/1/18

Highlights from the Archives. Some favorite Trillian moments.

Void, Of Course: Eliminating Expectations and Emotions for a Better Way of Life

200i: iPodyssey

Macs Are from Venus, Windows is from Mars Can a relationship survive across platform barriers?
Jerking Off

Get A Job

Office Church Ladies: A Fieldguide

'Cause I'm a Blonde

True? Honestly? I think not.

A Good Day AND Funyuns?

The Easter Boy

Relationship in the Dumpster

Wedding Dress 4 Sale, Never Worn

Got Friends? Are You Sure? Take This Test

What About Class? Take This Test

A Long Time Ago, in a Galaxy Far Far Away, There Was a Really Bad Movie

May Your Alchemical Process be Complete. Rob Roy Recipe

Good Thing She's Not in a Good Mood Very Often (We Knew it Wouldn't Last)

What Do I Have to Do to Put You in this Car Today?

Of Mice and Me (Killer Cat Strikes in Local Woman's Apartment)

Trillian: The Musical (The Holiday Special)

LA Woman (I Love (Hate) LA)

It is my Cultureth
...and it would suit-eth me kindly to speak-eth in such mannered tongue


It's a Little Bit Me, It's a Little Bit You
Blogging a Legacy for Future Generations

Parents Visiting? Use Trillian's Mantra!

Ghosts of Christmas Past: Mod Hair Ken

Caught Blogging by Mom, Boss or Other

2003 Holiday Sho-Lo/Mullet Awards

Crullers, The Beer Store and Other Saintly Places

Come on Out of that Doghouse! It's a Sunshine Day!

"...I had no idea our CEO is actually Paula Abdul in disguise."

Lap Dance of the Cripple

Of Muppets and American Idols
"I said happier place, not crappier place!"

Finally Off Crutches, Trillian is Emancipated

Payless? Trillian? Shoe Confessions

Reality Wednesday: Extremely Local Pub

Reality Wednesday: Backstage Staging Zone (The Sweater Blog)

The Night Secret Agent Man Shot My Dad

To Dream the Impossible Dream: The Office Karaoke Party

Trillian Flies Economy Class (Prisoner, Cell Block H)

Trillian Visits the Village of the Damned, Takes Drugs, Becomes Delusional and Blogs Her Brains Out

Trillian's Parents are Powerless

Striptease for Spiders: A PETA Charity Event (People for the Ethical Treatment of Arachnids)

What's Up with Trillian and the Richard Branson Worship?

"Screw the French and their politics, give me their cheese!"

Mail Trillian here

Trillian's Guide to the Galaxy gives 5 stars to these places in the Universe:
So much more than fun with fonts, this is a daily dose of visual poetry set against a backdrop of historical trivia. (C'mon, how can you not love a site that notes Wolfman Jack's birthday?!)


Alliance for the Great Lakes

Hot, so cool, so cool we're hot.

Ig Nobel Awards

And you think YOU have the worst bridesmaid dress?

Coolest Jewelry in the Universe here (trust Trillian, she knows)

Red Tango

If your boss is an idiot, click here.

Evil Cat Full of Loathing.

Wildlife Works

Detroit Cobras

The Beachwood Reporter is better than not all, but most sex.

Hey! Why not check out some great art and illustration while you're here? Please? It won't hurt and it's free.


Kii Arens

Tim Biskup

Jeff Soto


Get Fuzzy Now!
If you're not getting fuzzy, you should be. All hail Darby Conley. Yes, he's part of the Syndicate. But he's cool.

Who or what is HWNMNBS: (He Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken) Trillian's ex-fiancé. "Issues? What issues?"

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.

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Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Smart Girls
(A Trillian de-composition, to the tune of Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys)

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains

Smart girls ain’t easy to love and they’re above playing games
And they’d rather read a book than subvert themselves
Kafka, Beethoven and foreign movies
And each night alone with her cat
And they won’t understand her and she won’t die young
She’ll probably just wither away

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains

A smart girl loves creaky old libraries and lively debates
Exploring the world and art and witty reparteé
Men who don’t know her won’t like her and those who do
Sometimes won’t know how to take her
She’s rarely wrong but in desperation will play dumb
Because men hate that she’s always right

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains

Life(?) of Trillian

Friday, March 22, 2013  
Okay, I have to chime in on the George Bush paintings.

And what I'm about to say may surprise, anger, annoy and offend some of you. Nothing new there. And that's why I feel a need to get this out in the open.

Here's my disclaimer: I am not defending Bush as a president. Like my feelings about pretty much every politician who's held public office since James Monroe's terms, there were things about him I didn't like, and there were a few things about him I did like.

If you are not aware, like many retirees, George W. Bush, POTUS 43, has taken up painting.

I am pro-arts. I am pro-creative anything. If someone has a desire to create, anything, I think they should do so with as much gusto as they can muster. I also feel, strongly, that the joy is not in the final result. The joy is in the inspiration and the process. Consequently, I really don't care what the end result looks like. If someone truly enjoys what they're doing, that is the the art. Loads of people have creative desires lurking in their brains but never, ever pursue them. They dismiss the urge as frivolous, a waste of time, or, most often, they presume they'll never be good at it so they never even try it.

That is truly sad.

Because everyone needs a hobby. And everyone should at least attempt to do the thing they think they'd like to do. Painting, playing an instrument, dancing, sculpting, making macramé owls or carving tabby cats out of found driftwood...whatever creative pursuit interests a person should be pursued. Using the creative parts of the brain is rewarding in ways far beyond the obvious. It exercises underutilized areas of the brain. This can lead to lateral thinking when using other areas of the brain. Which means those weekend xylophone lessons can lead to solutions to spreadsheet dilemmas Monday-Friday.

It doesn't matter if you do it well, the joy is in the pursuit. The personal growth is in the act of learning something new and creating something, anything.

Consequently, I will never be a good art critic. In my eyes, and in my heart, any painting is a good painting. Anytime anyone acts on an impulse to do something creative, great things happen.

Museum-worthy or gallery-worthy things? Maybe not. Or maybe. That's in the eye of the beholder. And up to the creator.

For those who don't know what outsider art is, here's a little lesson. In the Art World, there are "outsider artists." Outsider artists are people who create without the benefit of the usual art pedigrees and support of the gallery world. Often they are completely self taught. Some outsider artists are fabulous. Some are trying to be fabulous, but most often the really incredible outsider artists have no clue how truly special their work is. They're just doing it, you guessed it, because they love the process. What makes their work special (beyond whatever talent and vision they may possess) is their innocence and lack of inhibition. The are utterly without affectation. They're driven purely by passion and vision and the desire to create. They don't give two hoots about what's going on in the art world. They forge ahead with their own unfettered style and technique.

I've noticed a lot of outsider artists who gain notoriety are uncomfortable with the fame. Even success seems to make them nervous. These are people who thought, "You know what? I've always wanted to try painting." So they took a painting class or watched a couple old episodes of Bob Ross and put their own brushes to canvas, just for fun and for the creative outlet. Someone sees something in their results, a couple local gallery showings later your Aunt Polly is showing at Art Basel and partying with Damien Hirst. You might want to hang onto those mittens she knitted you for Christmas a few years ago because their value is on the rise. See how weird it can get, really quickly?

POTUS 43 apparently took, or is taking, painting lessons. I presume not at a legit art school. I also presume he is not pursuing gallery showings and does not intend to sell his paintings. Which makes him an amateur. And, now that his work is posted all over the internet, "shown," he's an outsider artist. Perhaps an unwitting outsider artist, but an outsider artist nonetheless.

Because POTUS 43 didn't arrange a gallery showing, or even post images on his own blog or website (does he even have either?), I have to come to his defense. The story is that his email was hacked and jpgs of his paintings were discovered and publicly posted on sites seen 'round the world. Presumably for mockery or for people desperately trying to dissect Dub's psyche.

I read an interview with Laura Bush where she mentioned that her husband has taken up painting. I thought, "He is a normal retiree!" And yes, I envisioned him with an easel and a Bob Ross painting kit set up in front of a television with an old VCR and tapes of The Joy of Painting. Okay? Yes, that's what I envisioned. Happy little clouds. And yes. I honestly thought, "Good for him. Painting is a great creative outlet and a fantastic stress reliever." That's it. Those were the sum total of my thoughts on POTUS 43 painting.

So when I read that some of his work was "released" via ill gotten methods, I was reluctant to view the paintings.

Why? Not out of respect for the former president.

Out of respect for a human being.

My great-grandfather was a woodcarver. A really, really good woodcarver. A woodcarver of renown. As in church interiors and ships and relief sculptures all over Norway. When my dad was a small boy, his grandfather (the woodcarver) visited America a couple times and taught my dad some woodcarving basics. Eventually my dad inherited a few of his grandfather's tools. My dad dabbled with woodcarving and woodworking throughout his life. I think it made him feel connected to his grandfather and his roots back in the old country. When he was working and raising three kids, he didn't have the time to fully develop the hobby, but he dabbled when he could. When he retired he wanted to jump into woodworking and woodcarving big time. He read books, took classes and really got into it. His first attempts were, well, you know, not great. But we all knew what it meant to him, it was more than just taking up a hobby. So we all supported and encouraged his woodcarving and woodworking. It wasn't as if he was out there selling himself as a woodcarver or woodworker. He was having a blast enjoying his hobby and learning the techniques, and that was that. Criticism, public or otherwise, of his work was unnecessary. He was learning, not trying to pass himself off as a professional.

Is George W. Bush's retirement hobby any different from my dad's? Does the fact that he was POTUS exclude him from pursuing a hobby in retirement? It's great that Laura (and I presume the rest of the family) supports him. That's what families, especially wives, do. In a weird way, I find myself liking these people, the Bushes, more as a result of the viral paintings. Ridiculing his professional acumen is one thing. His policies and decisions that impacted the country and the world are fair game. Scrutinizing, ridiculing, debating and mocking...all is fair in politics. But what he does now, in retirement, privately, as a hobby, is not fair game.

I would be mortified for anyone to see some of my high school or even first year art school projects. Cripes, for the entirety of my career I've been professionally concepting and laying out designs, drawing renderings and even illustrating when necessary, and I still have an off day or week that produces "art" that goes straight to trash (physical or digital). I would be mortified if anyone saw those less-than-professional looking pieces. They don't represent me at my best, or even at my passing grade. They're failed attempts, and I know they're failed attempts. I know they're bad. And I don't care that they're bad, I just keep working at it and hopefully, eventually, get it right. But that doesn't mean I want anyone to see the attempts along the way.

Think about it, think beyond art, what's lurking in your draft mail box or hard drive that you wouldn't want anyone to see? Maybe you have a dream resignation letter/manifesto wherein you mention every annoying trait your coworkers possess. It's cathartic to write it and beats turning to drugs or alcohol to cope with your work environment, and you never intend for anyone to actually view it. What if you were hacked and someone posted that letter/manifesto on a website or blog? Actual names are mentioned in the letter/manifesto. Oh crap.

Or maybe you dabble in photo retouching and made some attempts at putting your mother's head on your dog's body. Kinda funny after a couple drinks in the safety and privacy of your couch on a Tuesday night, but do you really want anyone, especially your mother, to see it? Or maybe you'd be okay if your mother saw it, depending on her sense of humor she might get a kick out of it, so you email it to her. You both have a good laugh because your mother loves your dog and she just has that kind of sense of humor. She knows you love her and respect her, it's all in fun. Then her email is hacked (because your mother doesn't understand secure passwords and uses Mom123 as her password for everything) and along with her bank account info, the jpgs of your dog-mother are lifted. Then someone you don't even know posts your dog-mother photo on their blog. And makes fun of it. And you. And your mother. Yeah. That's really upsetting. And creepy. And weird. And you come off looking like an immature, disrespectful jerk.

So. That's why, when the images first surfaced, I resisted looking at them. POTUS 43 didn't intend for anyone to see them. He's a new at this. Just learning basic techniques. His painting bike is a tricycle because a two wheeler with training wheels is still a little too advanced for him. As it would be for almost anyone at this stage of learning how to paint.

But because he's a former president, and I presume especially because he's George W. Bush, it's deemed perfectly okay to hack and then publicly flog him for his creative pursuits. I sincerely hope this doesn't thwart his enthusiasm for painting. Everyone deserves to pursue and enjoy whatever creative outlet they choose without scorn or ridicule. My dad's woodcarvings were a source of joy and relaxation for him. My dad worked really (really) hard at a very stressful job for a lot of years. When he retired he finally had time to try things he always wanted to try. Why would anyone scorn or ridicule him for that? POTUS 43 and his paintings are no different.

I know. I'm just one impassioned YouTube video away from the "Leave Britney alone!" kid. Maybe I'll paint something and title it, "Leave George W. Bush alone!" Were POTUS 43's new hobby golf or gardening I wouldn't be worked up about this. But because I feel so passionately about creative expression, the pursuit, not the results, I do feel a need to come to his defense - his defense and everyone else who has the ambition (and courage) to try something new and use the creative parts of their brain.

Of course first attempts are mediocre at best, which is why a lot of people never even try a creative pursuit. They're too afraid to look stupid or bad at it. They know they won't be perfect the first time out, and, worse (in their eyes) there will be physical proof in the form of a bad painting or a macrame owl that doesn't resemble an owl. When I work with Girl Scouts in the 10 - 13 year age range I see a lot of this. Girls who are bursting at the seams to express themselves in some creative form steadfastly refuse to do so because they are frightened of looking stupid or embarrassing themselves. Persuading them to enjoy the pursuit, not the end result, is a huge hurdle. Huge. So I give a ton of credit to anyone, even POTUS 43, who gets past their inner 12-year-old girl and jumps into a creative pursuit.

So this was my mindset on the hacked images of the paintings. I refused to even take a peek at them.

Then a friend sent me a link saying, "Puppies and kittens!" I trust this friend, the worst thing she's ever done to me via email links is Rick Roll me, we both love dogs and cats, so naturally I clicked on the link without even looking at the url.

And there it was. An online gallery of George W. Bush's paintings. The very paintings I vowed to ignore.

I couldn't unsee them.

So, since I saw them, I tried to remove the painter from the subject and just look at them as what they are: A retiree's hobby, first attempts at painting. 

They're perfectly fine for a new art student, even kinda good considering he's just learning how to paint. I gotta hand him credit for the shoulder blade detail in the shower scene (yes, there's a shower scene). A lot of first and second year life drawing students struggle with the proportions and placement of shoulder blades. They often end up looking like they're not connected to the shoulder and couldn't possibly support or move an arm. POTUS 43's aren't perfect, but they're not bad for a beginner.

And then I saw "it." The one that I found compelling. I'm trying not to read more into it than what's really there, but, either unwittingly or purposely, it's a study in American psychology. The fact that the painter is George W. Bush is takes it to another level.

If I had a job and money to spend, and if a print of the painting were available, I would spend good money on a print of what I'll call, "No Dogs Allowed at the White House." It features a dog on the public side of the White House fence. The fence's bars are huge and jail cell looking. The dog's expression changed every time I looked at it: from melancholy, to sinister, to disaffected. The symbolism, intended or not, is brilliant. Add to that the rudimentary execution and the identity of the painter, and I gotta say, it is one compelling piece of illustration.

I'm not condoning how these paintings came into the public forum. And I am not entering into the public flogging of the painter. Which is why I'm not posting links or images. If you want to see them, Google Bush and painting and Gawker or

But. A better idea is to go create something yourself. Try a creative endeavor and enjoy it. Use that part of your brain and see what happens to the rest of your life. (It'll be good, I promise.) 

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1:13 PM

Sunday, March 17, 2013  
Overheard in a bar last night: "I dunno, Bono's always seemed like kind of a nerd to me."

The bar patron was referring to a statement Bono made about embracing his inner nerd. I agree, Bono has always seemed like a type of unpopular kid at school, the guy handing out flyers about weekend youth retreats of questionable sponsorship. Even as unpopular and dorky as I was in school, even I wasn't desperate enough to go anywhere near that kid or the retreats. He was the same kid who was exempt from biology and science classes that were deemed blasphemous by his parents and their church. I'm not sure that kid was a nerd, though. I'm guessing a career in medicine or paleontology or geology or astronomy weren't in his life plan, anyway, but still, it seemed kind of too bad for him. But he didn't think so. Sophomore year he started "marching" in the science corridor during session breaks, silently handing out fact sheets on why science is wrong and the Bible is right. By the end of Junior year he upped his game to quoting scripture while "marching" in the science corridor. Dedication to cause is admirable, but zealots tend to be a bit stubborn when it comes to other points of view. (Wow, I'm just now realizing how Bono-like that kid was.)

Navigating the social land mines of high school is tricky enough when you're just a regular dork. Add a dose of self-righteous zealotry and those questionable weekend youth retreat flyers, and well, you know high school was never going to end well for that kid. He didn't show up for Senior year. The rumors were that 1) he transferred to a Christian school; 2) his parents became missionaries and moved the family to Africa; and 3) his youth retreats were a cult and he was living on some remote island held spellbound under the cult leader.

That kid was, well, "different," but he wasn't nerdy. The nerds were getting straight As in the science classes, not protesting them.

When Bono gets a spot on the Model UN, joins the Chess Club, can't get a date to a school dance and has to take Summer School because of a failing gym class grade, I will accept (and perhaps even embrace) the inner nerd he claims he has.

Apparently he's embracing his alleged inner nerd a little too tightly because he went on to say he's sexually aroused (his words, not mine) by the collating of data. (Doesn't that sound like a fun date night. "Hey baby, I was thinking we could go back to your place, get a little more comfortable and collate some data." (Actually, I've had that line used on me...and it worked.) Still. Once again with feeling: poor Mrs. Bono.)

He was using this soundbite-laden speech to raise awareness and money to (drum roll): end world poverty. We know my mixed Bono feelings. Like that kid in my high school, dedication to a worthwhile cause is admirable, but...a little self-righteous zealotry goes a long way, and often goes too far. I really do not want to know what happens in those leather pants of Bono's. Just the thought of him being sexually aroused kinda creeps me out. But when he talks about being sexually aroused by doing charitable that imagery really necessary or relevant in a discussion on charitable works? I had the same feeling about Bono's boner over charity that I get when I see the Cialis ad that features young grandchildren dropping in on Gran and Grampa just as they were about to get it on: Ewwwww. Erections are great, but not around children, not featured in ads for Cialis. Or brought up as a way to entice people to give to charity. Although, if Bono were to promise to never mention the Bono boner again (poor Mrs. Bono) I might dig for change in my couch and give it to him.

If you get off on doing good, fine, whatever. But. WWJD? I'm pretty sure the whole humility thing prohibits telling the world you get off on doing good. Jesus didn't tell His story, His followers did.

I'm bringing up Jesus because Bono started it first. Another soundbite he unleashed was that he's an "insufferable jumped-up Jesus" regarding his never ending diatribes (my word, not his) on his charities of choice.

Maybe I missed some pop-culture paradigm shift. I'm nowhere near as cool as Bono. (Model UN, science club, orchestra, LitWits, AP English, need I go on? My high school years read like a How-To Guide for Nerds.) Maybe "Jumped up Jesus" has taken on a new meaning in the pop culture vernacular. Or maybe I misunderstood Bono's speech transcript.

But. Whenever I've heard the term "Jumped up Christ" it's another way of saying, "Holy sh!t!" I had an uncle who was known to utter the term "Jesus H. Christ on a Cross!" when he was frustrated or angry, usually when repairing a car. Sometimes he used the abbreviated, "Jumped up Christ" to express his annoyance. "Jumped up Christ," as I've always understood it, is an interjection, not a noun.

For instance, "Jumped up Christ! That's an enormous Jumbotron!"

I presume Bono has a speech writer, or publicist, or at least a couple interns to help him craft his speeches, especially for something like TED. Presuming Bono went off script with the "Jumped up Jesus" comment, they were probably rolling their eyes at the Malapropism and thinking, "When the recession ends I am so looking for another job." Bono, if you meant to say, "Jumped up Christ/Jesus! I just discovered I get off on accounting! Jumped up Christ/Jesus! I'm turning into a nerd! Jumped up Christ/Jesus, I am so getting off on doing all this good charity work!" Send this word nerd an email next time you are crafting a speech. I'll explain the difference between interjections and nouns and how to use them in sentences. I'll also explain what a Malapropism is. It's not as sexy-nerdy as collating data or bragging about your good deeds or displaying your sexual arousal on an enormous Jumbotron, but it'll help you make a favorable impression with the nerds. You know, the kids you apparently want to hang out with, now.

Speaking of Jesus...Him, not Bono, anyone watching the Bible miniseries on History? You may be surprised to learn I watched all of the episodes thus far a few nights ago. It was a Cliffs Notes ride through the Old Testament. I realize they don't have enough time to get into all the nitty gritty (and there's a lot of gritty in the Old Testament), and I realize a lot of the content is not basic cable friendly.


They're leaving out all the good bits! David has always been one of my favorite Old Testament characters - I can't overlook his backstabbing (literally) of his best friend or his adulterous affair (with his best friend's wife), as far as I'm concerned those actions put him up there with Delilah and Judas -  but...the Psalms, man, the Psalms. When I was a kid, the Goliath story was inspiring to me, even as a tot I totally understood the metaphor. And I loved the idea of a kid succeeding where adults failed. And he was poetic and lyrical and wrote a lot of the Psalms, which are lovely regardless of your beliefs.

In case you missed that week of Sunday school and didn't understand what was in the bag with the buzzing flies that David hurled at Saul, here's the lowdown.

When I got older and took confirmation class, we had a minister who did not gloss over the details. He told us everything in the Bible. Imagine my shock and confusion when, at age 13, I learned that the Bible has a passage that describes how King Saul offered David his daughter's hand in marriage if David killed 100 Philistines and brought their foreskins to Saul as proof that he killed them.

Then, as now, my reaction was/is:
A) WTF???
B) I presume Saul thought David (or anyone) would never take up that challenge. I mean, gross. Even for Old Testament times, gross. Thus ensuring Michal would remain Daddy's Little Girl forever.
C) But David, our beloved slayer of Goliath and writer of beautiful Psalms, went off an did it. He killed 100 Philistines, which is kind of a big deal because Philistines are notoriously brawny. But then, after David killed them he
D) went around circumcising the corpses and
E) collecting the foreskins and
F) carried them in a bag back to Saul.

And that, my friends, is what was in that bag with flies buzzing around it. The producers of the Bible miniseries apparently felt it was important to allude to the foreskins for the home viewing audience familiar with the story, but not important enough to explain/remind everyone else watching the show. But with all the other omissions (I know...there's just not enough time (or budget) to cover everything) I find it interesting that they bothered to take the time to film the 20 second shot of David tossing a bag full of 100 Philistine foreskins at Saul while Michal looks on with a wanton come hither smile.

Also, keep in mind that when David killed Goliath (prior to the homicidal circumcising mission), Saul gave David another of his daughters as a wife. I kinda nodded off for a few minutes so I may have missed that part of the miniseries, but I don't think so. Saul and David ended up having some, um, disputes, and to spite David, Saul gave Michal to another dude. I don't recall that the new dude had to kill or circumcise anyone to gain Michal's hand.

Remember, up to this point in my young life David was my favorite Old Testament guy. The idea that he went out and killed 100 people just for a girl didn't set well with me. Sure, they were Philistines, but c'mon, violence never solves anything and we presume this was an unprovoked attack. And the foreskins? Crimony, who writes this stuff? David just went out on a mass homicidal spree and collected foreskins as trophies. Even if it's an allegory about not issuing shallow threats because there's always someone desperate/dumb/weird enough to take up the offer, it's still gross. Saul could have tasked David with something weird but not homicidal and barbaric.

It was at this juncture in my life that I started to question the Bible and its teachings. We went on to learn the grittier details of David's many wives and...that he was a Grade A schmuck to his best pal Uriah. David wanted his friend's wife, so David committed adultery (yes, it takes two to tango, Bathsheba is not innocent in all this), and to "make it okay" David sent his pal Uriah to the front of the combat line and made sure he was killed. With friends like that...

David paid for his sin via the death of a son, which also didn't/doesn't sit well with me. God killed an innocent baby because his parents were adulterous jerks? That's not nice.

But the Psalms, man, the Psalms.

I'm guessing Absalom's public orgy with 10 of David's concubines won't get much airtime.

Kinda psyched for the next installment where (I assume) my main Old Testament man, Daniel, will be portrayed. I presume they'll conveniently skip over the psychotropic dreams but surely they can't resist the furnace and lions' den. I mean, that's just good TV.

I decided to watch the series thinking maybe it would, you know, be "good" for me. A little Sunday School refresher course might help my outlook in some positive way. So far, not so much. No miracles (big or small) to report.

8:01 PM

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