Christmas Eve.

Merry Christmas!

At the Garden Angel Café...

... there's a seat for you.

At the Verbena Café...

... you can be your usual divine self.

***

"Café," here at the Althouse blog, signifies an open thread in the comments. Write about what you like. And if you happen to have any shopping you need to do, entering Amazon through this link will — at no extra cost to you — send me: 1. some money, and 2. the message that you appreciate what this blog gives to you. (That link is always at the top of the page, under the blog's title: click "Shop Amazon.")

At the Clay Angel Café...

... I'll just sit over here in the corner.

At the Clay Angel Café...

... we're all waiting patiently.

The new lawn guardian angel.

At the Green Glass Café..

(Enlarge.)

... a clay angel.

"Check out the Drudge photo that makes it look like Obama has wings over the story: 'White House: Obama is obviously Christian.'"

Today's Drudge comedy — Drudgedy — was found by commenter t-man/wurly/henry buck. Screen capture:

The Drudge links go to:

1. That poll we talked about yesterday.

2. "White House says Obama is Christian, prays daily."

3. "President Apostate?"

4.  "Obama a Muslim? Rumors gain steam, defying facts."

ADDED: Rush Limbaugh begins his show today (Friday) talking about the Drudge angel wings. He should at least say "hi" to me.

What are the strange luminous shapes in the shadows?

I was the only one who noticed them...



but if someone else had noticed...



... they might have thought: angels!

AFTERTHOUGHT: ... strange luminous ...

"This man is a clear-eyed pragmatist who will get the job done" — says Biden of Obama.

If we can believe it, that's an effective line for people like me. But it must irk the hell out of lefties who want to think O is one of them.

ADDED: Andrew Sullivan live-blogs the Obama-Biden event:

Biden looks pumped, and Teddy Kennedy-like. The message is economic distress and the need to restore the American dream. Biden's speech sounds like the latter part of the Clinton primary campaign. Clintonism without the Clintons: that's what Biden is now offering.

Oh! All the disrespect for Hillary!

Why didn't I watch this? I was out, in a café. Actually, at the next table a woman was watching the event live-streamed on her laptop — with the sound on! She had her 6th grader daughter next to her, watching along. Maybe she assumed that, this being Madison, we'd all be excited to have the Voice of Obama interwoven with the rock music the café was piping in and our hearts would glow at the sight of a little girl transfixed by the exalted politician.

Maybe in Madison, there's an Obama exception to what I thought was an absolute rule of etiquette about using headphones if you're playing audio on your computer in a café. Fortunately, I had my headphones, so I turned on the XM radio streaming to block the chaotic sound. I picked the channel Real Jazz. Trio da Paz was playing "All the Things You Are," which was perfectly charming. Instrumental, but the lyrics still ran through my head:

You are the promised kiss of springtime
That makes the lonely winter seem long.
You are the breathless hush of evening
That trembles on the brink of a lovely song.
You are the angel glow that lights a star,
The dearest things I know are what you are.

Which, of course, is how we all think of Barack, now, isn't it?

The Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels.

Climb up out of the parking garage and catch the first glimpse:



At the end of a sunlit hallway:



The interior of the cathedral has a design reflecting 2 theological truths: 1. "the LIGHT of God revealed in salvation history, especially in and through Jesus Christ, \" and 2. "the sense of JOURNEY which describes our evolving relationship with God. We are on the journey, alone and together as the People of God, on pilgrimage, towards redemption in our lives. Therefore, as we walk away from the darkness of evil, we move towards the saving Light of Christ and the fullness of the Kingdom of God in Heaven."





(Enlarge.)

"'How many angels dance on the head of the pin?,' she responded, continuing to giggle."

Ready for the new Clinton presidency? To answer to your hard questions, she'll laugh in your face. We'll finally be free of George Bush's "heh heh heh." The new laugh will be a fresh, frank, hearty cackle.

"Hence we shave our beards that we may seem purified by innocence and humility..."

"... and that we may be like the angels who remain always in the bloom of youth."

The history of shaving and religion.

Do you love a movie that everyone else hated?

In the first post of the day today, I condemned a movie about Heaven:

This was an early CGI film that was enough to make me never want to see another CGI film. And I only saw the trailer for it.

That made Blake write:

Ann Althouse casually dissed one of my favorite movies on her blog, which provoked in me a great idea for a forum topic/series of blog posts: Movies I loved that everyone else hated....

So, why do I like ["What Dreams May Come"]? ... [T]he "Hell" that Annie (Annabella Sciorra) goes to isn't a place she's assigned to by some bureaucratic angels, it's a place she herself has created through her grief. In other words, Heaven and Hell are made of the same stuff, just not by the same people. It also seems to be far, far away from Heaven, which reminds me of St. Augustine's notion that "Evil is distance from God".

The post inspires a comment from Trooper York:

The reason why people hate this movie can be spelled out in two words: Robin Williams. I have some rules in life: Never play cards with any man named "Doc." Never eat at any place called "Mom's." And never, never, no matter what else you do in your whole life, never go to see a movie starring Robin Williams.

Okay, so we've really got 3 topics here now, don't we?

1. Movies you love that everyone else hated.

2. Movies you're willing to condemn with confidence based on the trailer.

3. Rules for life movies.

I'll start:

1. Pecker.

2. Already answered. But it's my reaction to most trailers. Sometimes the feeling is so strong, I feel compelled to try to help people by saying something out loud — "There's no way that's a good movie" or perhaps a subtly vocalized "Ugh!"

3. Any movie with Claude Rains is worth watching. (A rule best demonstrated by "Deception." Sample line that is incredibly cool because it is said by Claude Rains: "Like all women: white as a sheet at the sight of a couple of scratches... but calm and smiling as a hospital nurse in the presence of a mortal wound... Good night!")

"There's a big relationship between this marvelous time of year and living in a one-party state."

Christopher Hitchens scrooges about Christmas.

IN THE COMMENTS: John wrote:

How can you get him to go home? He drank everything on the buffet, including the little sternos underneath the meatballs, pilfered the Irish whisky in your top cabinet, smoked his smelly fags in the kitchen, and passed out on the couch making his 31st North Korea joke. Everyone else left the party hours ago.

Trooper York:

Linus Van Pelt: Charlie Brown, you're the only person I know who can take a wonderful season like Christmas and turn it into a problem. Maybe Lucy's right. Of all the Charlie Browns in the world, you're the Charlie Browniest.

Charlie Brown: No I'm not. Look at Christopher, he hates Christmas too!

Linus Van Pelt: What is doing over there?

Lucy Van Pelt: I think he is vomiting on a picture of Mother Theresa.

Linus Van Pelt: Is he sick?

Charlie Brown: No he is a political commenter. They do this all the time.... Isn't there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?

Linus Van Pelt: Sure, Charlie Brown, I can tell you what Christmas is all about.

[moves toward the center of the stage]

Linus Van Pelt: Lights, please.

[a spotlight shines on Linus]

Linus Van Pelt: "And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, 'Fear not: for behold, I bring unto you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.' And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'"

[Linus picks up his blanket and walks back towards Charlie Brown]

Linus Van Pelt: That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.

Charlie Brown: Mr. Hitchens what are you doing with that gun?...

Charlie Brown: Oh my god, Christopher Hitchens just shot Linus. And the little Christmas tree. Two shepherds. A donkey. And the partridge in the pear tree.

Lucy Van Pelt: Thank God Snoopy was packing and laid down a covering fire.

Christopher Hitchens: God had nothing to do with it you fools. There is no god. Only a stupid dog with a luger.

Linus Van Pelt: Thank god for the second amendment. And dogs with guns. God bless us all! Even you little Christopher Hitchens.

Christopher Hitchens: (vomits)

(A Charlie Brown Christmas starring Christopher Hitchens, 2007)

A ponderous angel.

Guarding a doorway in San Francisco.

Why would you stick a disembodied angel head in a doorway like this? It's not as if this thing — who does that face remind me of? — is going to lighten the hearts or inspire the souls of those who pass through.

ADDED: Closeup:



Think Christopher Hitchens should use this for the cover of his next anti-religion screed?

Marriage in heaven? Opinions vary.

Assuming heaven, how can there be marriage in heaven? If you had the power to design heaven, would you have everyone eternally married to whomever they happened to be married on earth?

Q: Billy Graham recently said that he expects to be with his wife in heaven, but I have seen where other so-called Bible experts say that we will not really know each other in heaven. I have always felt that my husband and I will be together forever, and it upsets me greatly when I hear something like this....

The questioner seeks a Christian answer, and the theologian who answers the question gives a complicated and hedging answer, but it includes this quote from Jesus: "At the resurrection people will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven.” (Matthew 22:30.) I can see not wanting to upset the nice woman, but shouldn't she have to give up either her dream of eternal marriage or Jesus?

Or does it depend on what the meaning of "will" will be? Jesus spoke in the future tense, so maybe all that means is that you can't get married in heaven, but if you are already married, it will continue. That really doesn't seem fair to those who die without finding the perfect mate. If you knew eternal marriage was the rule, what would be the better strategy in life: trying very hard to find someone suitable for a really longterm relationship or resisting marrying anyone out of fear that things would eventually go awry?

I'm not attempting to do theology here. I'm just wondering why people are so eager to believe something that would not be good.

And excuse me for using the word "whomever" up there. I know it's a made up word to trick students.

Bible verses the candidates didn't cite.

Last night at the big debate, Tim Russert asked each of the Democratic candidates to recite their favorite Bible verse. They all made a stab at the assigned task. No one rebelled against the assignment. Who would dare to use the occasion to do a little lecture on the importance of the separation of church and state? It worked for Bush, back in 2000, to sidetrack a question about philosophy into religion and say that Jesus was his favorite philosopher, so who will be bold enough to veer away from an invitation to display religiosity?

Joe Biden came the closest, when he said "Christ's warning of the Pharisees." If you understand the reference, it actually is a subtle way to imply that religion should not be used publicly for the purpose of achieving worldly goals. It's good to remind religious people -- especially religious people who crave more religion in their politics -- that Jesus set his religion apart from politics and gives Christians a religious basis for the separation of church and state.

In last night's debate thread here on the blog, there was some talk about how no one recited John 3:16. Religion for the purpose of politics must be drained of the intensely religious material. And so the candidates cited "the Golden Rule" (Hillary Clinton) or, generically, "The Sermon on the Mount" (Obama and, following Obama, Richardson). This is religion as ethics, and to answer this way speaks of the theory that religion gives rise to values that infuse political opinions and actions that are not themselves religious. There's little doubt that this is the safest position for an American presidential candidate to take.

John Edwards did the best here, reciting "What you do unto the least of those, you do unto me." What's so good about this is that it's specific. He gives a particular Biblical verse, which shows deeper familiarity with the Bible, and he has a verse that expresses special concern for the poor, which is his campaign theme.

Edwards doesn't get the line exactly right (even considering the many translations). It's from Matthew 25. Here it is -- boldfaced -- in context:

(31) "When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. (32) All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. (33) He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

(34) "Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. (35) For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, (36) I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'

(37) "Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? (38) When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? (39) When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'

(40) "The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'

Now, I must say that it would be disastrous to have political leaders who took that absolutely seriously. This is a description of who goes to Heaven and who goes to Hell, and the standard would appear to require all out devotion to the needs of the poor, the sick, and the immigrants. ("...I was a stranger and you invited me in.") Try to picture America, run by that standard. Utterly unrecognizable! But I'm not saying Edwards goes that far. He only cited that last line, which gently says that whatever you do for the dispossessed counts as something that you did for Christ.

But I got to thinking this morning about all the rest of the Bible. All the things they might have cited, both apt and horribly inapt. I made myself laugh, here, alone at the breakfast table, picturing one of the candidates doing his Bible-quoting like this:




Surely, the Bible is full of lines that would be utterly bizarre for a presidential candidate to say. Help me think of some. I was going to start us off with "Vengeance is mine!" Can't you just picture Gravel summoning up all his strength and waving a clenched fist and going "Vengeance is mine!" But "Vengeance is mine" in context is actually about human beings refraining from taking vengeance: "Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God; for it is written, 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.'" (Romans 12:19-21.)

And yet, we wouldn't want a President who said that either, would we?

Ingmar Bergman has died.

On seeing this news, I literally break down and cry for several minutes. The man was 89 years old.

ADDED: Let's look at the list of his films. Talk about the ones that meant something to you. I'll list the ones I remember seeing:

1. "Autumn Sonata." It's the subject of a wonderful discussion about art in (my favorite movie) "My Dinner With Andre." There's a line, something like: I could always live in my art, but never in my life. Ingrid Bergman says it to Liv Ullmann. Mother to daughter.

2. "Face to Face." Isn't this the movie in "Annie Hall" that Alvy Singer refuses to see because it's already started?

3. "The Magic Flute." Mozart! In Swedish.

4. "Scenes from a Marriage." I think of the scene with Liv Ullmann, playing a therapist, as she's listening to a patient describe her marriage. The patient talks about how the world has come to feel unreal to her. Perhaps she says it feels like paper, and we see a closeup of her hand trying to feel the edge of the table. Then we see a closeup of Liv Ullmann's eyes, with just enough terror showing.

5. "Cries and Whispers." Perhaps the best of them all. I think of the scene where they read "David Copperfield" to each other for some reason. And the broken glass and the blood.



6. "The Touch." Elliot Gould! In English!

7. "The Passion of Anna." I remember being bored. Sorry.

8. "Shame." Another one I saw and couldn't appreciate at the time. I should try again, I'm sure.

9. "Persona." This one is very sharp and simple. Great to rewatch.

10. "The Silence," "Winter Light, "Through a Glass Darkly." Hard to remember which is which now. These were the movies we saw in college and thought precisely exemplified what serious movies were.

11. "The Virgin Spring." Another one we saw in college days, but this one stood out as different.

12. "Wild Strawberries." This is the one they showed us in the dorm -- East Quad -- practically as soon as we arrived as freshmen in 1969. The message was: This is greatness in film. If you don't see why this is great, you have a problem you'd better fix!

13. "The Seventh Seal." Loved this at the time. Loved Woody Allen's spoofing of it in "Love and Death." Have it on DVD but only watched part of it. Let's watch this one tonight. It is about death.



14. "Smiles of a Summer Night." Beautiful, funny, and not that Bergman-y. Woody Allen has a beautiful tribute to it: "A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy."

ADDED: Here's the NYT obituary:

“I was very much in love with my mother,” he told Alan Riding of The New York Times in a 1995 interview. “She was a very warm and a very cold woman. When she was warm, I tried to come close to her. But she could be very cold and rejecting.”

The young Mr. Bergman accompanied his father on preaching rounds of small country churches near Stockholm.

“While father preached away in the pulpit and the congregation prayed, sang or listened,” he once recalled, “I devoted my interest to the church’s mysterious world of low arches, thick walls, the smell of eternity, the colored sunlight quivering above the strangest vegetation of medieval paintings and carved figures on ceilings and walls. There was everything that one’s imagination could desire — angels, saints, dragons, prophets, devils, humans.”

His earliest memories, he once said, were of light and death:

“I remember how the sunlight hit the edge of my dish when I was eating spinach and, by moving the dish slightly from side to side, I was able to make different figures out of the light. I also remember sitting with my brother, in the backyard of my flat, aiming with slingshots at enormous black rats scurrying around. And I also remember being forced to sit in church, listening to a very boring sermon, but it was a very beautiful church, and I loved the music and the light streaming through the windows. I used to sit up in the loft beside the organ, and when there were funerals, I had this marvelous long-shot view of the proceedings, with the coffin and the black drapes, and then later at the graveyard, watching the coffin lowered into the ground. I was never frightened by these sights. I was fascinated.”...

“I want to be one of the artists of the cathedral that rises on the plain,” he said. “I want to occupy myself by carving out of stone the head of a dragon, an angel or a demon, or perhaps a saint; it doesn’t matter; I will find the same joy in any case. Whether I am a believer or an unbeliever, Christian or pagan, I work with all the world to build a cathedral because I am artist and artisan, and because I have learned to draw faces, limbs, and bodies out of stone. I will never worry about the judgment of posterity or of my contemporaries; my name is carved nowhere and will disappear with me. But a little part of myself will survive in the anonymous and triumphant totality. A dragon or a demon, or perhaps a saint, it doesn’t matter!”

Much more at the link, including how he suffered from the fear of death and what completely cured him of that fear.

IN THE COMMENTS: My ex-husband Richard Lawrence Cohen writes:

Ann, after reading the NYT story my first impulse was to come here and find out your response, which is as perceptive and lively as I'd hoped. (I typoed "livly," which is a nice pun for the occasion!) My earliest Bergman experience was stumbling upon The Magician on WOR-TV in New York as a high school student. It was unlike any other movie I'd ever seen and it made me want to see every other movie like it -- movies that enchanted not only the senses and the emotions but the intellect and the aesthetic. Then Wild Strawberries during freshman orientation as you've noted: I thought I remembered that it was shown in the courtyard of the Quad, but maybe that was King Kong instead and maybe they showed Wild Strawberries in the little auditorium. Then several of his classics at Cinema Guild: among them, Smiles of a Summer Night thrilled me with its laughter-filled ideal of romance, and Virgin Spring with its sagalike bright medieval starkness. Just two weeks ago I rented Seventh Seal for my preteen kids because they were fascinated by the idea of playing chess with Death; they liked that scene well enough but it ended too soon for them and they kept asking, "When are they going to show more of the chess game?" before losing interest altogether. For me, the style of the movie felt a bit old-fashioned at this point but many scenes were still powerful, and I was especially taken with the character of the church artist who kept up a cheerful commentary while painting gruesome pictures influenced by the reality of the plague that was all around him.

A corollary memory: seeing Liv Ullman as Nora in A Doll's House on Broadway in the 1970s, with Sam Waterston as Torvald, Sam on crutches after an accident but still pacing back and forth across the stage, unrealistically, so that he could hit his marks.

Yeah, that was an insane Sam Waterston performance. At least he had historically accurate crutches.

"Wild Strawberries" was shown indoors in a fairly small room, where we had to sit on the floor -- which was one of the reasons I didn't enjoy it as much as I was supposed to.

AND: Richard, if the boys like chess movies, here's a list of 1,715 of them.

AND: In today's vlog, I talk about why reading about Bergman's death made me cry.

MUCH LATER: Having collected my "post-of-the-month" for each of the months of 2007 and chosen this for July, I settle down a reread this post, then go back to the top and read the first sentence and break down and cry once again.

"Rich people read."

Glenn Reynolds writes:

IN LIGHT OF YESTERDAY'S POST ABOUT TV, ARNOLD KLING SENDS THIS:

Back when I had my relocation web site, we got hold of some zip-code level marketing data. When I looked for purchases that correlated with affluence, hardback books was one of the strongest.

Rich people read. Books.

I'm not surprised to hear that.

I'm skeptical. What's the correlation between buying hardback books and actually reading serious writing? A few thoughts:

1. People with less money use the library, swap books with friends and family, and buy paperbacks.

2. Look at the hardcover bestseller lists. Most of this is junk reading. People who go for hardbacks tend to be people who want the latest thing. It's not especially deep. "The Secret" and "21 Pounds in 21 Days" are typical popular hardcover books. Cookbooks tend to be purchased in hardback form. Books that you look at but don't really read -- coffee table books and art books -- also tend to be hardbacks.

3. Most of the serious literature out there is available in paperback: All the classic novels and nonfiction are going to be in paperback. Take a trip to Borders. Are the most serious readers the ones at the front tables full of new novels and political books that will be gone in 5 years or back in the shelves labeled "History," "Philosophy," and "Science" -- which are full of paperbacks?

4. Hardcover books make nice gifts. You may buy them, but are they for you? And will the person who receives your gift ever read it?

5. Lots of children's books come in hardcover. Of course, rich people delight in supplying their children and grandchildren with copious quantities of books -- and in telling others about what readers the little angels are.

6. When you have the money for it, buying books can be a satisfying pastime. You pick up one book because the cover expresses who you like to think you are. There's that guy with "How a Good vs. Evil Mentality Destroyed the Bush Presidency." Go ahead, pile on another. "Anatomy of Deceit: How the Bush Administration Used the Media to Sell the Iraq War and Out a Spy." A couple more and the cute girl at the checkout will surely glow with admiration.