Family Guy
Abracadabra!
Where's the rest of me?
The Wednesday after Advent 2
Without even trying, I have been closely following the Tiger Woods "story". I am still undecided what to call it. Is it an event, a story, a crisis, a moral lesson, a fable, a tale told by idiots signifying nothing, something, anything? Trust me on this, half the Advent sermons preached this coming Sunday will contain at least one reference to El Tigre. And for some bold Protestants preaching outside the box [it's called a lectionary], it may be the whole cannoli. He's on his way to becoming the best example of a bad example since Brad left Jen. Which is to say this whole thing is probably good for at least 30 issues of US or People. And if Angelina Jolie was Brad's punishment, can you imagine what kind of short straw Tiger will draw next?
It has not quite progressed to the level of the Bodily Assumption of St. Michael into Neverland. Not quite. But we are well on our way. I am tempted to compare the moral trajectory of celebrity with something Isaac Newton called gravity. That, I suppose, is why apples--as well as human beings--fall so damn completely. In life--as with gravity--there is no such thing as a partial Fall. The Stoics were right about at least one thing. You can drown in 6 inches of water as easily as 60 feet of it. If so, Mr Woods must be breathing a helium mix, because if even half the the stories are true, his drowning occurred at about 500 feet..
I do not begrudge Mr. Woods' enormous gifts. Making hundreds of millions of dollars using a piece of hard metal to knock things into small holes is no mean feat. It is a curious talent but many curious talents are well compensated. Besides, to invert Holy Writ, "the rich you will have with you always". And the stupid. And the wicked. And so on and so on. Unfortunately, as Mr Woods has discovered, skill with a putter has nothing to do with living a decent life.
Now that Mr. Woods has discovered that adultery has a downside and that life in the VIP room costs a lot more than $2000 an hour, perhaps he will be able to survey the wreckage of his life with a little steadier eye. I am not holding my breath. Surveying the wreckage of one's own life is painful and difficult. Only by the grace of God can we see that horror and hope to spiritually survive. But surveying the wreckage of a celebrity's life? Well, by golly, that's different. In fact, that's fun. No--even better--"that's entertainment".
I am waiting to see if Mr. Woods has the courage of his convictions and makes a guest appearance on Howard Stern. I hope his public relations people are smarter than that, but so far Mr Woods has made some pretty bad calls. Or perhaps he will publicly repent and show up with Dr. Drew on VH1's new hit show, Celebrity Sex Rehab. After all, there are some cute girls on that show. What was it Le Rochefoucauld said? "Hypocrisy is the tribute that vice pays to virtue". I am not accusing Mr. Woods of hypocrisy. He has bigger fish to fry right now. I'm accusing us of being hypocrites for enjoying the whole thing so godawfully much.
It has not quite progressed to the level of the Bodily Assumption of St. Michael into Neverland. Not quite. But we are well on our way. I am tempted to compare the moral trajectory of celebrity with something Isaac Newton called gravity. That, I suppose, is why apples--as well as human beings--fall so damn completely. In life--as with gravity--there is no such thing as a partial Fall. The Stoics were right about at least one thing. You can drown in 6 inches of water as easily as 60 feet of it. If so, Mr Woods must be breathing a helium mix, because if even half the the stories are true, his drowning occurred at about 500 feet..
I do not begrudge Mr. Woods' enormous gifts. Making hundreds of millions of dollars using a piece of hard metal to knock things into small holes is no mean feat. It is a curious talent but many curious talents are well compensated. Besides, to invert Holy Writ, "the rich you will have with you always". And the stupid. And the wicked. And so on and so on. Unfortunately, as Mr Woods has discovered, skill with a putter has nothing to do with living a decent life.
Now that Mr. Woods has discovered that adultery has a downside and that life in the VIP room costs a lot more than $2000 an hour, perhaps he will be able to survey the wreckage of his life with a little steadier eye. I am not holding my breath. Surveying the wreckage of one's own life is painful and difficult. Only by the grace of God can we see that horror and hope to spiritually survive. But surveying the wreckage of a celebrity's life? Well, by golly, that's different. In fact, that's fun. No--even better--"that's entertainment".
"That's Entertainment"
I am waiting to see if Mr. Woods has the courage of his convictions and makes a guest appearance on Howard Stern. I hope his public relations people are smarter than that, but so far Mr Woods has made some pretty bad calls. Or perhaps he will publicly repent and show up with Dr. Drew on VH1's new hit show, Celebrity Sex Rehab. After all, there are some cute girls on that show. What was it Le Rochefoucauld said? "Hypocrisy is the tribute that vice pays to virtue". I am not accusing Mr. Woods of hypocrisy. He has bigger fish to fry right now. I'm accusing us of being hypocrites for enjoying the whole thing so godawfully much.
"I thank thee Lord that I am not like...
that Pharisee."
By the way, how do you skin a tiger? The same way you make a hypocrite: you do it yourself.
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