God in the details

It turns out yesterday's horrendous acts of terrorism in Oslo were not the work of Islamic extremists (despite the fact that one or two such groups tried to claim responsibility, sending the media on a speculative feeding-frenzy), but instead a lone Christian extremist (or duo thereof—it's still not clear at time of writing) opposed to multiculturalism, among other things.

Should we, I wonder, hold our breaths for society's outrage against Christians? Its painting of all Christians with the same extremist brush? Acts of violence against Christians? Calls for their expulsion? I sincerely doubt it, and am grateful for it, but it makes one wonder how this story might have played out differently if the bomber–gunman's religion had been Muslim rather than Christian. I do not expect, for instance, in-depth analyses from the media about the rise of Christian extremism—despite my suspicion that the internal shift to extremism within Christianity over the past two decades would probably compare favourably with Islam's global conversion rate, a statistic frequently bandied about to induce our panicked horror.

This isn't about being pro-Islam or anti-Christian—it's about the media's hypocrisy, and the historical/economic roots of religious/racial demonization. Of course, the solution is not for society to do to Christians what has been/is being/will be done to Muslims. The solution is to have a rational, mainstream discourse about the manifold and unrelenting dangers of religion. Period.

Webcoms

I love me a good comic web-series (webcom?). Yes, there is a lot of crap out there, but it's such pleasure to come across one that holds up despite the limitations of the medium and the resources. Take the VGL Gay Boys, Jeffery Self and Cole Escola's short-lived web-based sketch-comedy show (webskom?), before they found a wider audience and a more mediocre comic-style on one of the gay networks. These early videos were rough and sloppy, but completely, bust-a-gut hilarious. They live randomly on YouTube; search "VGL Gay Boys" and watch away. My faves are Meeting Meryl Streep, VGL Gay Boys with Bernadette Peters, and The Recession Video. VGL Gay Boys on Gay Marriage is a hoot too.

A more recent discovery, and with higher production values, is Jack in a Box (http://www.jackinaboxsite.com/), a delightful series about a nelly NY bear-cub(ish) actor/resentful box-office employee who loves cupcakes. His mother and aunt are hilariously over-the-top, and his best girlfriends appropriately irreverent/clueless. Some seriously quality cameos, too. Yes, I watched the entire series (22 episodes) in one sitting a few months ago. What? They're only about 8 minutes each.

And finally — but ironically least brilliant — is Lisa Kudrow and Don Roos' Web Therapy (http://www.lstudio.com/web-therapy/). I heard about it because Showtime is picking it up, or repackaging it, or something. I love both the creators and practically squealed when I saw La Streep in three episodes — yet, I didn't fall over myself laughing. Much of it is improvised, and I fear it shows. Thing about improv, it needs to be structured. Chris Guest gets this. Improv the shit out of something in rehearsals, then structure it for performance. Filming improv is never as funny for an audience as it is for the performers. Still, worth watching, if only for the Streep outtakes reel. Never get tired of watching that woman laugh.

Bitten

We had a lovely day on Monday — rode our bikes (T's newly purchased from an overly ambitious Craigslist seller for one third of its price) to the islands, both took long runs (in shifts, while the other watched our stuff), and lounged on the nudie beach (admiring some, evading others) — but clearly something entomological did not want me there. Since then, I have developed steadily more irritated clusters of bites, mostly on my thighs and stomach, that redden by the day and even possibly increase in number, though this last observation may be a symptom of my rampant hypochondria. Google offers little help, much panic: Carrions disease, the Pappataci fever virus, Leishmaniasis — all carried by the delightful (and needless to say extraneous to our continued well-being) sand flea. Of course, minor annoyance for several days is also a possible consequence, indeed the most common, but why settle for the mundane? An abiding fear is that they were not incurred at the beach at all, but are the result of a sudden, unexplained, and entirely coincidental infestation of bedbugs. I continue to monitor this possibility with utmost seriousness. I'm considering mapping the existing bites, or marking them with a Sharpie before I go to bed tonight, in order to be certain that there are no new ones tomorrow. I shall keep you updated — both on the developing invasion of alien insects and my dwindling sanity.