24 April 2006

the christians and the pagans

i work across the hall from the offices for a christian bookshop. this building is practically notorious in new york city, housing the two biggest broadway casting offices, three or four off-broadway companies, a couple of producers, and a handful of smaller theatrical outfits. and a christian bookshop. i always feel slightly subversive around them, in their blue polos and crisp khakis - ooh, i'm wearing jeans and doc martins, what a heathen. i just read a play with fucking. while they're propagating the word of christ. but they're very nice, and put an air freshener in the shared bathroom down the hall.

the bookshop proper is on the first floor of the building, and while walking past it on my way back from starbucks* there was an oaktag sign propped next to the store. in big magic marker letters, the sign cautioned christians not to buy the new king james bible from this store, but only the old kj, and then, in smaller magic marker letters, enumerated what i guess were translation errors,** or some sort of corrections. when i stopped to read the sign, because you don't not stop to read a sign like that, a man standing nearby, a not-very-crazy-looking guy with a big floral suitcase said, 'it's for this store.' oh, right, and not the other christian bookshop in times square that the sign was propped against. 'okay,' i said. then he asked, 'are you a christian?' i readied myself for a bit of prosletysing, kinda looking forward to getting to defend my rarely trotted-out agnosticism. 'no.' 'oh, okay,' and then he just let me go.

it was recently pointed out how ironic it is*** that jevovah's witnesses go door-to-door recruiting, as part of the jw beliefs is that there's a set number of seats in heaven - why would they want to mess up their chances, right? i know i shouldn't assume that floral suitcase guy's sort of crazy-looking magic marker oak-tag signs indicate any tendency to preach to strangers on the street, and it makes me feel a little closed-minded about crazy people and christians to have expected him to start trying to convert me right there on 43rd street. i'm also wondering how messed up i am that when he didn't start preaching, i was disappointed.

in other xtian news, i caught the last half hour of constantine on hbo last night. god, tilda swinton is fucking amazing.****

*with perhaps the most complicated drink that can be created there without whipped cream, an iced grande half-caff single soy caramel sauce latte, god help them. i was too ashamed to ask for 'light ice.' god help us all.

**because the biblical translation errors we should be worrying about are from the old kj to the new, and not, you know, that thing about moses having horns coming from his head rather than light.

***and if you know, feel free to remind me where i got this, because i know i didn't make it up myself, but can't remember the source.

****for some reason, amazing tilda-as-gabriel pictures are pretty thin on the ground around the interweb. so i google image-searched "amazing." and this was the first actually amazing thing i found. but only because the link to the photo of the guy whose torso was covered in tattoos was dead.

1 comment:

Rocco said...

hey, thanks for commenting (no one ever comments!). I like your blog. I've been reading it instead of working for about a half hour now.

You're right. I think I have to put an asterisk on my comments about Pedro. Its not that he was so amazing in either play. He's not, like, Cherry Jones or anything. But the difference between the two characters is so great, you can tell the guy's got talent.