Saturday, October 29, 2016

PG-13 Material in Christian Art

"We write down made up stories to tell the truths we wish we could say out loud," - Linda Schreyer

We've all read The Hunger Games, we've all seen The Breakfast Club. We all know that violence, sex, language and other adult material is rampant in secular media, and, for the most part, we've come to accept it.

But what about adult material in Christian art? Everyone's heard about the ridiculously idealistic Christian movies with terrible scores, everyone has seen the Amish-clad and excessively boring Christian fiction section. For the most part, Christian art is squeaky clean, because, in order for it to succeed, people believe it needs to appeal to that homeschooling mom who gasps in horror at four letter words and won't let her kids watch anything secular. 

There's plenty of Christian media that caters to those kinds of people. 

But what about the rest of us?  Do we have to suffer through cheesy movies, only watching them because they're Christian?  Do we have to read idealistic fiction because it's the only 'pure' thing out there?

Absolutely not. 

But first, the term "Christian art" needs to be defined. In simplest terms, it can be art created by a person who is a Christian, but this can branch off into many different subcategories. 

1. Art that has no Christian themes or motives, but is just creative expression for the sake of sending another message or just art because art is awesome. 

2. Art created specifically for Christians to consume. This art is the most prevalent, and is the squeaky-cleanest. This is meant to uplift and enforce the reader's already Christian beliefs. 

3. Art created to speak to people - to teach them, to comfort them, to uplift them. Whether those people be other Christians - who, remember, are just as broken as the rest of us - or secular people who need to see a message of love in a visual, auditory, or written way. The third definition is usually the most racy. 

Examples of the third definition:
King's Kaleidoscope: A Prayer

And this third definition is what I've always found most appealing, especially as I've matured. 

As I grew older, the squeaky clean, cookie cutter and idealistic 'Christian art' wasn't doing it for me anymore. For a while, I searched for Christian books, bands, movies, but came up mostly empty handed. I couldn't find the substance and relatability along with good execution, so I turned to secular art, and, on some level, was able to find all of the above things. 

But still, I was missing something. And the lacking I found in both Christian art and secular art (especially books in my case), inspired me to write two novels which reflected what I knew that Christian art was lacking:

Violence, Sex, Language, Drugs, and Adult Themes

Not that these things are good, but that they are real. The hard things in life are what has made God send his Son to die for our sins, for us. And erasing these things from Christian media only perpetuates the myth that Christians are perfect, or, that once you become a Christian, you will be perfect. 

Including the hard things, the bad things, the dirty things, in your art adds the reality, the relatability, and makes the story of redemption and the saving grace of God even more impactful. 


So hey, by all means, throw some blood at your readers, swear a little, let it all hang out. 

But make sure it's got a good reason. 

~The WordShaker

Saturday, October 22, 2016

You.

"The books we read answer questions we didn't even know existed," -Axel Marazzi

You. You have changed my life. Or, at least, certain parts of it.


No, not the 'you' who made me flirt, wear makeup, go out on a limb and go to almost every football game ever. Not the 'you' who has taken me out on some amazing dates.


No, the you. The plural. The amazing girls who make a night, an event, out of everything we do. The you who I can just have a damn great time with. The you who drives over curbs, the you who nicknames your friend's boyfriend 'pole dancer'. The you who goes out to McDonald's at 11pm at night just for the hell of it. The you who's more than ready to go on an adventure of a lifetime that might only last a few hours. The you who can make me laugh and laugh and laugh until my sides hurt. The you who can get down and dirty, sad and serious with me.


No, the awkward, blond headed #56 was only the catalyst in this perfect trio, this life-changing aspect of me. Thank you, both of you, for making my world a little bit brighter.


You are the awesome to my awful. The terrific to my terrible. And I hope I can be the same for you.

~

Short little post today about some newfound friends. I hope you enjoy!

~The WordShaker

Saturday, October 15, 2016

My Anxiety | A Short Story

"To survive, you must tell stories," -Umberto Eco

The pounding of my heart jolts me out of sleep. Breathing in and out, the sheets stick to my clammy body, my pajamas cooking me in the heat of the summer night.


The popcorn ceiling looks black and white. Sleep still tugs at my vision, at my consciousness.


Silence. The air conditioner hums deep within the house. The faint whine of crickets in the bushes outside my window.


Something rustles in the corner. Left. Clawing at the sheets, billowing them in and out to get the stale air circulating, I sit up.


Nothing.


I lay back down, my entire body heaving and pulsing. A flutter burns in my gut.


A crash bursts out of the same corner, like a shelf fell right off of it's post. Jolted with panic, I sit up, gnarling the sheets around my legs.


Nothing. Just black shadows, stagnant, diffused, created only by the light of the moon from behind my curtains.


I lay back down.


I close my eyes, try to sleep. Air conditioning, crickets, everything natural, everything normal.


The flutter burns, grows until it scales up and down my back. Arching, I itch my spine. There's nothing there, I tell myself, my back is pressed up against the mattress, there's nothing there.


I roll over, facing away from the site of the crash. Rustling, unnatural movements come from the endless labyrinths of shadows.


It's a rat. It's a spider. It's a rabid dog.


In a solid moment of panic, I sit up again, only to find the bitter relief of nothing.


Nothing.


Crawling, hissing, jittering around like a solid ball of energy, waiting to explode in the darkness.


It's a ghost. It's a demon. It's everything I fear.


Tearing the sheets off, I claw at my light switch. Light explodes out of the fixture on my ceiling, chasing away every shadow with ravenous delight.


I peer into the corner, trying to push past the piles of clothes and clutter and dust, to find something, something of what I was seeing, hearing, feeling.


But there's nothing. Not a speck out of place.


Padding along the floor, I near the corner. Seemingly normal, seemingly okay.


My heartbeat screams in my ears, my blood races under my fingernails, my breathing ragged like grasping at threads.


I kick at the pile of dirty clothes, and they rocket forward, slamming against the wall with a slap. I push over my art table, pens breaking, bottles of paint splattering, paper crumpling. I throw books over my shoulder, banging, crashing against my own safe haven.


Heaving, trembling, staring at the mass destruction I raged on nothing, I walk back over, turn off the light, and crawl back into bed.


But I know, tomorrow night, it will be back. The thing, the tightness in my jaw, the single candle of nervousness under my diaphragm.


My anxiety.

~The WordShaker

Saturday, October 8, 2016

Voyager 1 | Adam Young Score Review

"The thing all writers do best is find ways to avoid writing" -Alan Dean Foster

I was pretty surprised with this score. While I don't love it because it can't top the classics like Apollo 11 and the RMS Titanic, it's not as low as The Ascent of Everest or Project Excelsior. After coming off of the high of the beautiful magic that is Corduroy Road, it would have taken another Omaha Beach to top that one. 

But this month's score is still solid and amazing to listen to, as always. 

Listen to the score here


artwork by: james r. eads

1. 1977

Stylistic and full of beat, this song starts off the score strong with the techno sounds of space, and the influences of the 70's. 

2. Earth

Mysterious and deep, this track brings in the instrument side with strings, adding to the raw beauty that is Earth. 

3. Asteroid Belt

Expansive and light, this score captures the rocks floating along in the vastness of space with deep synths. 

4. Jupiter

Imposing in scale like the planet itself, this track bursts with dance-able beats and vocals. 

5. Europa

Building with intensity, this song captures the ethereal and possibly life-holding moon. 

6. Saturn

A beautiful piano piece, this song  displays the immensely quiet beauty of the gentle giant. 

7. Titan

Throbbing with a pulsing beat, this song pushes forward with the music floating like air passing the great moon. 

8. Neptune

Laced with energy, this track comes in hard with techno beats to display the deep and dark gas giant. 


9. Pale Blue Dot

Ethereal, this song makes use of it's clever synths showing the hopeful beauty and massive space between Earth and everything else. 

10. Interstellar Space

Entrancing and other-worldly, this track captivates with synths to show the vast forever laying ahead of this vessel. 

Here's how it compares with the Adam Young Scores Discography:

1. Omaha Beach, June - 20/10
2. RMS Titanic, March - 15/10
3. Apollo 11, February  - 11/10
4. Corduroy Road, September - 10/10
5. Miracle in the Andes, July - 9.5/10
6. The Spirit of St. Louis, April - 9/10
7. Voyager 1, October - 8/10
8. The Ascent of Everest, May - 7/10
9. Project Excelsior, August - 6.5/10

Overall, this is a solid addition to the Adam Young Discography. While it's not bad by any means, the music is beautiful and enjoyable, but doesn't bring too much newness to the table. Exotic and plunging the listener into deep space, this score is a solid 8/10. 

~The WordShaker

Saturday, October 1, 2016

The Unappreciated Awesomeness of John Murphy | The 100


"Screw this, I'm going for it," -any successful writer ever

After a hard, stressful day at school, sometimes I just need to watch my new favorite TV show: The 100.

And this week's ramble is about the infamous John Murphy, A.K.A., the resident asshole, who I actually very much enjoy. 

When the show started, I hated him. I thought he was just awful and that's all there was too it. However, he was fun to watch because he was so cynically sarcastic and created conflict. 



But then, I grew to love to hate Murphy. I loved seeing the terrible shit he was going to do next because he was aggressively unpredictable, which, I hate to say, was super entertaining. It made for great tension.  



But then, around the beginning of Season 2, something crazy happened. I was so angry that he shot Raven, but then, in the dropship, he told her his life story, and, all of a sudden, it clicked. And then, soon, he grew into himself, I think. He opened up, and he let that go. 



Murphy's conscience began to show more as him and Jaha began traveling to the City of Light. As soon as he truly saw all of the awful things that Earth - as well as the people on it - had in store, they began to have the opposite effect on him. While other times, it hardened him, it became too much, and he cracked. Murphy changed. 



But what I love so much about this is that he kept his gruff and aggressive demeanor. And, damn it, sometimes he's so funny. His dry humor is perfectly placed, and he knows just what to say at the right time to say it with his beady eyes and pursed lips and scowl.

And so begins Season Three. 

The season starts off with Murphy on the edge of suicide, and his descent into this is powerful and gripping, just another show of Richard Harmon's amazing acting ability. 




He is strong and resilient and conscious in his opposition of Jaha and ALIE. While aspects of Murphy change, such as his outlook on life and his demeanor, the sad, manipulative, selfish, and raunchy core of Murphy never changes. Which is actually pretty great. 




Murphy and Emori together are fantastic. Not only is Emori equally badass and complex, their banter is entertaining, and their chemistry is on fire. 



On to his rape - and yes, Ontari raped him. Right after Titus beat and tortured him. Subtle in it's delivery, it poignantly shows the nuances and coercion of rape. It's just another layer in the deeply broken, sarcastic, and relatable John Murphy. 




The season ends with Murphy as the best part of it. He fights for Emori until the bitter end, and it's utterly fantastic. His greyness as a character is what makes him so dynamic, and, ultimately, so relatable and utterly loveable. 




Overall, I love to hate Murphy, but I also hate to love him. 

He's awesome, cunning, brave, cynical, funny, reckless, and badass. And also just an ass. 

But I absolutely love it. 





~

I've finally concluded that John Murphy is the 'Sawyer' of this series. 

If you have no idea what I just referenced, what the hell are you doing with your life?

~The WordShaker