Sunday, November 29, 2020

"Supernatural": A Retrospective

We just reached the end of an era: the 15th and final season of “Supernatural,” which became the longest-running genre TV show in America. For me, the striking thing about that incredible run is how unlikely it seemed in the beginning. When Supernatural premiered in 2005, it was a fairly unremarkable “monster of the week” show — not bad (usually), but nothing special either. In those early days, there was nothing to suggest that it would become a phenomenon.


Surprisingly, I can say that I’ve been with Supernatural since the beginning. Not being a fan of the horror genre, I wasn’t the most likely audience for the show, but it aired right after “Smallville” (from which it poached one of its lead actors, Jensen Ackles), so I decided to check it out. I watched about 10 episodes, and I didn’t hate it, but I also felt like the “monster of the week” premise wasn’t for me, so I stopped watching. However, my friend Sina was a fan of the show, and our conversations coaxed me back by the end of the first season. That’s when it really started engage me, mostly because of how it developed and utilized its mythology in clever and surprising ways. (What would happen if a demon possessed a grim reaper? That’s the kind of unasked question that Supernatural tends to answer.)

I stuck with it into the fourth season, by which point I was thoroughly engaged. However, I lost touch with the show again, this time due to things going on in my life. (I lost touch with a lot of other shows around the same time. I still haven’t finished most of them.) This time, I was sucked back in by my friend, Jimmy, and my wife, Kei. The former was a fan and the latter was interested in checking it out, having heard of it by word of mouth. By then, it was 2013, and Supernatural was already in its 8th season! Having expected the show to end around the 5th season, I had marveled at its longevity from afar. It had found an “afterlife” in an unexpected 6th season (and of course, it turned out that the 6th season wasn’t even the halfway point of the show’s amazingly long run).

Kei and I started watching Supernatural together over a lazy Christmas break. It was a tough sell for her at first too, but it helped that we had the free time to watch it marathon-style. (I distinctly remember one occasion that we stayed up until 5am watching “one more episode” several times in a row.) Initially, I was excited to share it with her, and for her to reach the parts that I remembered fondly. Then we reached the 4th season and the show was new to both of us. Eventually, we caught up with the live broadcast, and were able to watch the last few seasons as they aired. (I’m especially glad for that, given some of the unexpected turns the show took in those years.)

I would be lying if I said the show was always good along the way. It definitely had some weak spots – and a particular knack for disappointing me in the season finale – but it was always more about the journey than the destination. Even at times when the plot wasn’t great, the show remained eminently watchable — largely due to the funny and endearing characters, but also because of the endless creativity with which they stretched and explored the premise. Far beyond monsters, the show eventually explored magic, religious mythology, time travel, secret societies, alternate dimensions, and more. This flexibility allowed for some really audacious episodes that would have seemed impossible in the early years of the show. 

Many shows start to feel stale after just a few seasons, but some of Supernatural’s best seasons are in its latter half. For that alone, it deserves some recognition. Even after seeming to peak in seasons 5 and 11 (with story arcs that begged the question, “Where do they go from here?”), the show still managed to deliver a 15th season that not only felt justified to exist, but felt – in retrospect – like a necessary reckoning with everything the show had been about. It was one more example of Supernatural beating the odds to become something special. I’m glad I took the journey to discover that.

Saturday, June 8, 2019

◄ 19 Years of X-Men ►

The X-Men franchise should be dead.

That might sound like an insult, but I say it with a sense of awe and admiration. This is a franchise that began 19 years ago, in the year 2000. It predates the Marvel Cinematic Universe by 8 years. Hell, it even beats the Tobey Maguire “Spider-Man” by 2 years! Since 2002, we’ve had 3 live-action Spider-Man franchises, but there’s still only one X-Men franchise (albeit with two sets of main cast, playing the older and younger versions of the same characters). With its remarkable longevity, the X-Men franchise is our last tether back to a time before the modern age of mainstream superhero movies.


The first X-Men movie was released in the year 2000. I was only 14, so I can’t say much about the expectations that existed then, but I do remember how my dad reacted when he took me to see it: “That actually wasn’t bad.” (To be clear, it wasn’t his kind of movie. At least, that’s what he assumed beforehand.) My dad’s reaction was probably typical. While not a masterpiece, “X-Men” was one of those pleasantly surprising movies that are better than you would rightfully expect them to be. So much was working against the movie’s success: It was in a genre that wasn’t taken seriously, directed by someone with little experience (34-year-old Bryan Singer), and based on a comic book that had mainstream recognition, but not mainstream appeal.

Nevertheless, “X-Men” distinguished itself with competent execution and sophisticated themes about the marginalization of minorities and the clash of ideologies. (The casting of Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen didn’t hurt either.) The opening sequence, set in a Nazi concentration camp, grounded the fantastical story in a way that general audiences could connect with, making “X-Men” a critical and commercial success.

Despite that, I wasn’t really enthusiastic about the franchise until the second installment, “X2.” It came out in 2003, when “The Matrix” (not “X-Men”) was the franchise everyone was talking about. As such, I went into it with modest expectations… but I was completely blown away. The movie still has legendary status in my mind today because of the impression it made on my 17-year-old self. It organically continued the story of the previous movie, but with better special effects and a trove of cool ideas. (One appeal of the X-Men movies has always been how the mutant powers are conceived, executed, and used in various scenarios.) The end of the movie left my mouth watering for what would come next.

Unfortunately, Bryan Singer (who also directed “X2”) was unavailable for the third film, “The Last Stand,” so Brett Ratner (of “Rush Hour” fame) took the reins. The results were not good, ostensibly sealing X-Men’s fate as one of many trilogies with a disappointing finale. Then, in 2009, the franchise reached the spin-off stage with “X-Men Origins: Wolverine.” It was painfully bad, suggesting that the 9-year-old X-Men franchise was descending into an embarrassing afterlife of money-grabbing spin-offs.

As if on cue, a prequel came out in 2011: “X-Men: First Class.” There was little reason for anyone to expect it to be good… but it actually was. With James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender playing younger versions of the Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen roles, along with the fun-and-flashy direction of Matthew Vaughn, “First Class” was well received, giving the 11-year-old X-Men franchise a new lease on life. Even the second Wolverine spinoff, released in 2013, was a notable improvement on the first one.

By 2014, when the Marvel Cinematic Universe was only 5 years old, the 13-year-old X-Men franchise was having a second renaissance with its seventh film, “Days of Future Past.” This movie blew the minds of nerds everywhere (including me) by uniting the old cast with the new, as well as returning Bryan Singer to the director’s chair after 11 years. It told a daring story of time travel in which – spoiler alert – the timeline was changed so that the original trilogy never happened. (This twist was like a gift to everyone who hated the events of the much-despised third film, “The Last Stand.”)

The theme of fixing past mistakes continued in 2016, with “Deadpool.” While it wasn’t officially an X-Men movie, it was owned by the same studio, and it played with the idea of being in the same universe (but with its tongue far in-cheek). Moreover, it gave Ryan Reynolds a chance to finally do the character of Deadpool justice. He had played a barely-recognizable version of the character in the 2009 Wolverine movie, but everyone (including him) was unhappy with the results. That all changed with the 2016 “Deadpool” movie. It was a huge success, even after taking the risk of an R rating.

The same year, Bryan Singer returned to direct an X-Men movie for the fourth and final time with “X-Men: Apocalypse.” As much as I expected to like this installment, I wasn’t very fond of it. The whole movie felt like a good thing taken to excess. It was intense, but impersonal, with a grandiose villain and a parade of ambitious visual effects that felt too much like they came from a Roland Emmerich disaster movie. The wide reception was similar to my feelings, as it earned a 65% among audiences on Rotten Tomatoes (and frequent use of the adjective “bloated”). It wasn’t an awful movie, but it was “less good” than it should have been.

Over the last 3 years of the franchise, the best-received films have ironically been the spin-offs: “Deadpool” in 2016, “Logan” in 2017, and “Deadpool 2” in 2018. “Logan” was the third and final Wolverine spin-off, directed by James Mangold (who had also directed the previous Wolverine movie). Hugh Jackman and Patrick Stewart reprised their iconic roles for the last time, in a somber and violent story about Wolverine and Professor X in a dystopian future where everything they loved is lost. It had an R rating (which might have been impossible for an X-Men movie without “Deadpool” paving the way), and was well-received. To this day, I don’t know whether it’s meant to be the “real” future of these characters, or just a “what if?” kind of story. I’m happier believing the latter, but regardless, “Logan” was an admirably successful experiment for a 17-year-old franchise.

That finally brings us to “Dark Phoenix,” the first X-Men movie to feature none of the original cast (not even Wolverine!), and probably the last X-Men film from 20th Century Fox. To my knowledge, the end of the franchise hasn’t been officially announced… but now that Fox has been acquired by Disney, which also owns Marvel Studios, everyone expects the X-Men to finally get a hard reboot—not a soft reboot, like the prequel in 2011 or the timeline change in 2014, but a truly different universe.

“Dark Phoenix” enters the scene as the tenth X-Men movie (counting the Wolverine movies, but not counting the Deadpool movies). It is the fourth movie to feature the prequel cast, and the second attempt to adapt the Dark Phoenix storyline, which was originally teased at the end of “X2” (in 2003) and then botched by “The Last Stand” (in 2006). Sadly, the movie hasn’t been well received by critics… but I’m crazy about it. This is the movie that 17-year-old me thought he was going to get after “X2” in 2003.

Because I love “Dark Phoenix” (and the “Logan” and “Deadpool” films have been so good), I don’t view the X-Men as a franchise in decline. However, that seems to be the common attitude, so I’m prepared for this to be the end. And hey, if “Dark Phoenix” is the end of this X-Men franchise, I’m okay with that. It’s not meant to be an all-encompassing finale (a la “Endgame”), even though some people seem to be judging it as such. Rather, it’s the last mixed bag in a 19-year saga of mixed bags. It’s a relic from a time when we weren’t lucky enough to have the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and its tenure deserves a measure of respect.

I love this franchise, and in order to love it, you have to accept it for what it is: a flawed-but-remarkable phenomenon that has pleasantly surprised us more times than we had any right to expect.

Sunday, October 7, 2018

Thoughts on a Female "Doctor Who"


In just a few minutes, my wife and I will be sitting down to watch the premiere of Doctor Who’s 11th modern series. This will be our first chance to see the 13th Doctor in action, not counting her brief introduction at the end of the Christmas Special. I’m taking this moment to record my thoughts on the concept of a female Doctor (before my thoughts on the concept are influenced by the reality).

I could have shared these thoughts a long time ago, when the news was first announced. However, I have a standing practice of ignoring BBC press releases, since the network doesn’t have many qualms about spoilers. (River Song would be ashamed.) Honestly, I wish we could just see the events of the show as they happen, and react to them organically, rather than hashing them out in response to press releases that appear months in advance.

But I digress. The question is whether choosing a female Doctor is a good idea… and the answer is that I have no idea.


When the news was first announced, reactions were (in typical Internet fashion) polarized.

Some people said that it doesn’t make a difference whether the Doctor is male or female, but I can’t agree with that. It does make a difference, both in how the audience reacts to the Doctor (because I don’t think humans can avoid reacting to men and women differently, despite our best efforts to treat everyone the same) and in how other characters react to the Doctor, especially in many of the patriarchal times and places that the Doctor visits frequently.

Other people said it was a mistake to change the Doctor, but I can’t agree with that either. Since the Doctor’s first regeneration in the 1960s, the character has been defined by change. In fact, the show’s longevity is based on its ability to change! (The Doctor changes, the companions change, the TARDIS changes…) Everything that usually defines a show – from the cast to the sets to the setting – has been erased and rewritten, again and again.

I understand why people are saying, “A female doctor won’t be the same!” but that’s not the point. This is Doctor Who! It’s a show that’s predicated on the question, “How much can we stretch and reinvent this premise without losing what makes the show special?” By asking that question for decades – through 12 leading men and countless companions – Doctor Who has already challenged our notions of what defines a show’s identity. Why can't it also challenge our notions of what defines the Doctor’s identity?

In short, I acknowledge that a female Doctor is a huge creative risk. And I’m thrilled to see them take it.

Thursday, September 20, 2018

Thoughts on a Live-Action "Last Airbender"

I feel so ungrateful about this "Last Airbender" news. It could be something wonderful, but I can't help thinking of all the reasons that it doesn't seem like a good idea.

Some stories are ripe for adaptation, but others are born in their ideal form, and cannot be improved by a retelling. For "The Last Airbender," animation seems like that ideal format, which makes me fear that a live action series – no matter how good – will be a pale imitation.

By contrast, consider "The Lord of the Rings." The books are a masterpiece, and the movies are an entirely different kind of masterpiece. They complement each other—one story, but expressed through two different types of storytelling.

Can the story of "The Last Airbender" also be told in a different way? More importantly, should it be? I'm not sure. I don't want a live action series that feels like a retread of the animated series, but I also don't want a live action series that conflicts with the series I know and love.


I have to wonder...

If Netflix believes in "The Last Airbender" enough to pay for it, why not produce more of the animated series? The story has already been continued in graphic novels, which demonstrates how many stories are left to tell... and, unlike the main arc of the series, those stories haven't been told in their ideal format yet. They could actually benefit from being brought to the screen.

Of course, that's where my feeling of ungratefulness comes in. Rather than being glad for what I'm given, I'm whining for what I'd rather have instead. The truth is, I should trust that the creators of "The Last Airbender" know what they're doing. After all, they're the ones who got it right the first time. If anyone can get it right again, it's them.

I just don't know how they can do justice to everything that made their first show great, especially on a TV budget. Granted, shows like "Game of Thrones" have demonstrated that a fantasy epic is possible on television... but even "Game of Thrones" is judicious in its use of visual effects. It uses them when they really count, but not all the time. By contrast, "The Last Airbender" lives in a world filled with flying creatures, detailed choreography, and magical powers. How in the world will they accomplish that?

Saturday, August 25, 2018

Mission Impossible: The Improbable Franchise

Let’s take a moment to appreciate the Mission Impossible franchise, which spans 22 years and 6 movies. In that time, the longest gap between films was 6 years. Off the top of your head, try to name another franchise with that longevity and that consistency. (Even the shockingly durable X-Men franchise didn’t begin until the year 2000.)


A few noteworthy franchises have similar longevity, but huge production gaps between films. (For Star Wars, the longest gap was 16 years, between 1983 and 1999.) Others have changed protagonists along the way. (For Star Trek, movies were produced consistently for 23 years, between 1979 and 2002, but the characters changed in 1994.)

On the other hand, Tom Cruise has carried the Mission Impossible franchise since he was 34 years old. In the latest installment, he’s 56, and still running breakneck across rooftops and doing his own death-defying stunts. For one scene, he trained for a whole year to do a complex high-altitude skydiving sequence. The man may be eccentric, but he’s an action phenomenon.

Another shocking thing about the franchise is that it hasn’t gone downhill. On Rotten Tomatoes, the first 3 movies are scored between 57% and 70% while the latter 3 movies are scored at 93% or higher. I’m tempted to quibble over some of the scores (Mission Impossible 3, scored at 70%, is my favorite), but the point still stands: These films hold up.

At the beginning, the films were very inconsistent. Each one was helmed by a different director, and the tone, characters, visual style, and production design changed every time. The first film is Brian De Palma’s take on Mission Impossible; the second film is John Woo’s take; the third film is J.J. Abrams’ take. For the first 3 films, the only consistent elements were Tom Cruise and his trusty “guy in the chair,” Ving Rhames.


Then Mission Impossible 4 began to change things. Although helmed by a different director, Brad Bird (of “Incredibles” fame), it brought back some characters and elements from the third film. Mission Impossible 5, directed by Christopher McQuarrie, brought back even more. Then Mission Impossible 6 bucked the trend completely; it had the same director as Mission Impossible 5, and it served as a direct sequel to the events of the previous film.

The thing that makes this strange and satisfying is that the series felt like it was ending 12 years ago! In Mission Impossible 3, Ethan Hunt (the Tom Cruise character) is retired. His adventures in the fourth film are explained as a special situation, but the fifth film doesn’t even bother to explain why he’s still a secret agent. That makes it extremely satisfying when the latest film, “Fallout,” ties everything back together.

Mission Impossible is a franchise built on delivering more than you expected to get, both in quantity and quality. How many times has a successful film franchise grown out of remaking an old TV show? I don’t think it happens very often. Then again, I admit to some amount of bias here; I’ve loved Mission Impossible since I saw the first film as a kid. (I distinctly remember recording an episode of Entertainment Tonight just to catch the trailer for Mission Impossible 2.)

For me, each new film has been a pleasant surprise—never something I took for granted. In fact, the gap between Mission Impossible 2 and 3 was so long (6 years) that I remember thinking the franchise was over. When they announced the third film, I thought, “Great! They’re going to finish the trilogy after all.” Then I reacted with surprise when they announced the fourth, and I was incredulous when they announced the fifth... but I was always excited to buy my ticket.

By the time the sixth film was announced, I knew better than to be surprised. However, I am a little surprised that it’s probably the best one yet. If they choose to end the franchise here, I’ll be completely satisfied, but I won’t rule out the possibility of another film. For any other franchise, that might seem improbable... but definitely not “Impossible.”

Saturday, June 23, 2018

Review of JURASSIC WORLD: FALLEN KINGDOM

In the first Jurassic World movie, Henry Wu says, "Nothing in Jurassic World is natural. We have always filled gaps in the genome with the DNA of other animals, and if the genetic code was pure, many of them would look quite different. But you didn't ask for reality; you asked for more teeth."

It cleverly explained why many of the dinosaurs in the original Jurassic Park weren't scientifically accurate, but it also reinforced the movie's theme about escalating a spectacle for a jaded audience. As Claire says, "The park needs a new attraction every few years in order to reinvigorate the public's interest. Kind of like the space program."

The parallel is clear: The movie is set in a fake world where real dinosaurs aren't amazing anymore, because the current generation of kids don't remember a time when dinosaurs didn't exist. Similarly, the real kids going to see movies in 2015 don't remember a time when amazing on-screen dinosaurs weren't possible. To realize what a miracle that is, you must have lived long enough to see how the world changed when visual effects (which once, by necessity, left much to the imagination) finally made anything possible on-screen.

Jurassic World was such a good movie because it understood its DNA. While being over the top, it cleverly acknowledged how and why it was over the top. Most importantly, it was executed pretty well.

Ironically, Fallen Kingdom is a disappointment (at least for me) because it embodies the careless escalation of spectacle that its predecessor denounced. Henry Wu's criticism of the Indominus Rex could apply, word for word, to this sequel: "You didn't ask for reality; you asked for more teeth."

Image result for jurassic world fallen kingdom

To be clear, teeth aren't bad. People show up to these movies for teeth… but striking a balance is important. The characters need to make enough bad decisions to enable the disaster, but not so many bad decisions that you can't take them seriously. The spectacle needs to be exciting, but not so densely packed (more dinosaurs! more violence! volcano!) that it all runs together. The story needs to be outlandish to be fun, but should make enough sense to be compelling.

Unfortunately, Fallen Kingdom misses those marks. I couldn't buy into what was happening; I couldn't buy into why it was happening; and I couldn't buy into the people it was happening to. The movie does have some appealing characters and good ideas, as well as some good spectacle, but it’s hampered by too much over-the-top action, and too much sketchy characterization, to keep me invested. I don’t hate it, but I don’t like it much either. For someone who’s been a huge fan of Jurassic Park since childhood, that’s a disappointing surprise.

Wednesday, May 16, 2018

Response to Silverman-White Debate

A Christian friend recommended the following debate, between David Silverman (atheist) and Dr. James White (Christian, presuppositional apologist). The topic of the debate was, "Is the New Testament evil?" This was my response:


I listened to this because you recommended it, but I tend to avoid debates that revolve around evaluating scripture. Having listened to a lot of debates, I now believe that the only religious debate worth having (or at least, the first debate that must be had) is whether the testable claims of that religion deserve to be taken seriously. Until the underlying worldview is shown to be reasonable, arguing the details of that worldview is putting the cart before the horse. 

It’s like arguing whether Bigfoot is left-handed. Until we have a good reason to think Bigfoot exists, who cares which hand he writes with?

That’s why, if I had been in David Silverman’s shoes, I wouldn’t even have agreed to a debate about whether the New Testament is “evil.” Before it even started, I knew how that debate would go: The atheist would say, “Here’s some bad stuff in the Bible,” and the Christian would say, “You have no objective basis for morality, so how can you say what’s good or bad?” Of course, that’s exactly what happened. On those terms, there’s no way to settle the question. There’s no effective way to conduct the conversation, much less to win the debate.

I wonder why the Christians even wanted to have this debate. It makes me imagine a bunch of Star Wars fans who invite a layman to debate whether Darth Vader is evil. The layman wants to do his research, so he watches the movies, and he shows up with the most coherent argument that he can muster. He says, “Well, Darth Vader uses the Force to choke people who don’t deserve it, so Darth Vader is clearly evil.” But, instead of engaging with that point, the Star Wars fans reply, “How can you say that choking people is evil? You’re not a Star Wars fan. To you, this is a fictional story. If these are just fictional characters, how can choking them be evil?”

At that point, the layman would rightfully reply, “Okay, fine, but if that’s your attitude, why did you invite me to this debate? I thought you wanted to talk about Star Wars, but it seems like you only want to talk about how my opinion doesn’t count because I’m not a Star Wars fan.”

I told you once that presuppositionalism can’t actually win arguments; it just prevents itself from losing. It does that by trying to invalidate the whole conversation, claiming that its opponents have no basis for anything they say (or that they “borrow” their basis from the Christian worldview). Thus, the opponent can’t make any progress toward a coherent argument, because the presuppositionalist keeps derailing the discussion.

Unfortunately, David Silverman is not very good at avoiding those sneaky presuppositional traps. He did a decent job, but he kept taking the bait instead of chopping off the fishing pole. 

One of his biggest mistakes was claiming that humans can judge an “all-knowing, all-powerful being” (God). He was wrong to say that because, when atheists judge the morality of “God,” they are not judging an all-knowing, all-powerful being. Rather, they are judging the HUMAN IDEA of an all-knowing, all-powerful being (according to how that idea is portrayed as a character in the Christian Bible). It’s possible to make those judgments without believing a shred of the mythology attached, just as it’s possible to judge Darth Vader as a literary character without believing that Star Wars really happened. On that basis, we can identify “plot holes” in the Christian mythos that reveal its true nature as a human narrative. 

As Gene Roddenberry said, “We must question the story logic of an all-knowing, all-powerful God who creates faulty humans, and then blames them for his own mistakes.” 

Another point that David Silverman should have countered was the one about morality and natural selection. Contrary to the implications of Dr. White, subscribing to evolutionary theory is not equivalent to believing that every action favored by natural selection is morally good. White kept implying that things like rape should be good from a “naturalistic materialist worldview” because they lead to reproduction, and reproduction is the only thing natural selection cares about. That’s absurd.

We can recognize that natural selection got us to this point without liking everything about the process. In fact, as we struggle to build a better world, it’s important for us to recognize how the perverse incentives of natural selection have stacked the deck against us. We need to recognize that the human race did not evolve to be fair, or safe, or happy, and that those qualities can only be developed in the world if we consciously rise above our “programming.” That programming includes our innate predilection for superstitious thinking, and its dire consequence, religion.

You might argue, as Dr. White did, that I have no basis for wanting to build a world like that. You might argue that my “naturalistic materialist worldview” makes everything meaningless, because we’re all just molecules bumping around in the dark (physical matter with no soul). But, if nothing else, I’m a conscious animal who’s capable of experiencing pleasure and pain. Therefore, my pleasure and pain has meaning to me, and the satisfaction or suffering of other people has meaning to them. Beyond that, we can argue about the details – about what exactly is the meaning of life – but it’s ludicrous to suggest that life is meaningless for creatures who can think and feel.

Saturday, November 18, 2017

"Justice League" Review

The film's bookending theme is hope, so it's appropriate that it restored my hope for the DC Cinematic Universe. (Yes, I know it’s officially called the “Extended Universe.” I’m not calling it that.) It’s not quite a breath of fresh air, like Wonder Woman, but it’s an engaging and exciting movie with no major flaws to drag it down.


I can’t discuss my feelings about Justice League without recapping my feelings about the DC films I didn’t like.

I mostly liked Man of Steel, but I could never get excited about it because its flaws were flaws that really bothered me. (Visually, it suffered from muted colors and an abuse of slow motion during emotional scenes. Narratively, it was hampered by some logic flaws... and everything about Jonathan Kent.) I loved the opening sequence of Batman v Superman, and I think that Ben Affleck is the best on-screen Batman ever, but the film quickly descends into a jumbled and numbing slog. (I also can’t stand Jesse Eisenberg’s Lex Luthor. At all.) I thought that Suicide Squad was mostly a mess, slightly redeemed by a few good characters – including the first good portrayal of Amanda Waller, by Viola Davis – but just as harmed by bad ones. (I approached Jared Leto’s Joker with an open mind, but I couldn’t get onboard.) Finally, as I said above, Wonder Woman was a breath of fresh air, even if it had some flaws.

With Justice League, all of DC’s good casting decisions are in the spotlight, along with some new ones, and that really helps. The actors playing Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman were already great in their roles. Among the new faces, I thought I would like Jason Momoa as Aquaman, and sure enough, I did. (For the record, I’ve been a fan since before Game of Thrones, when Momoa joined the cast of Stargate Atlantis.) However, I wasn’t sure how to feel about Ezra Miller. He has a hard job to do in owning a character that already belongs – for this generation of fans – to Grant Gustin on the Flash TV show. This version of Barry Allen is young, impulsive, and insecure. Rather than Barry Allen, he feels more like Bart Allen (another speedster, one who’s actually known as “Impulse”). For me, though, the real standout was Ray Fisher as Cyborg. I already knew the character, but not very well, so this was a new introduction for me. Fisher brings gravity – and some elements of danger – to the role, but he also gets to show some emotional range. I’m really looking forward to seeing him as a fully-developed hero.

For most of the film, I was invested in the interactions between these characters, and that’s an important proof of concept for a DC universe that’s jumping into its big team-up movie without introducing all of the players first. This film shows that I can see these characters together and actually care about them and what they’re doing. The only weak areas are some bits of humor – mostly with the Flash, but even with Batman – that feel a little forced. I wonder if that was the influence of Joss Whedon (who took over the post-production of the film after the director, Zack Snyder, suffered a personal loss), or the influence of a movie studio listening to complaints that Batman v Superman wasn’t “fun like those Marvel movies.” Either way, it’s not always a good idea for the people making movies to listen to what audiences think they want. When people complained that Batman v Superman wasn’t “fun,” the remedy wasn’t to add more jokes; it was to build a better story with engaging characters. The good news is, they mostly hit that mark this time.

(Next on my DC wishlist: a climactic battle sequence that doesn’t remind me of a video game.)

Monday, January 16, 2017

Stop Typing "Amen" for Facebook Scammers

Earlier today, I saw the following post in my Facebook feed:


Notice that the photo has almost 17,000 shares. A closer look at the page, "Stories That Touch," reveals that they have recently re-branded. Here's their original profile picture, side-by-side with their new one:


And here's their original cover photo, side-by-side with their new one:


Obviously, this page has reinvented itself. If you look at their "Photos" section, you can see the exact moment when they changed from being a page devoted to generic workout videos (and female butts in yoga pants) to shamelessly exploiting sick people.


Remember the image at the beginning of this post? If you take a moment to right-click on the image (in Google Chrome) and "Search Google for image," you quickly learn that the picture has been stolen from a Facebook page called "Abigail's Joy."


Of course, you don't need to, because the scam page weirdly decided to include a photo credit:


Notice that the original post on "Abigail's Joy" doesn't ask for likes, amens, or shares.


This should be an obvious example of "like farming," where a Facebook page tricks people into commenting, clicking "Like," or sharing. Their goal is to make the page popular enough that it can be used to market a product, promote a scam, or steal credit card information. (Sometimes these "like farmed" pages are even sold in an online black market.)

Yet, people fall for it. Why? I have to place some blame on the very concept of prayer. Our culture accepts and respects the superstition of prayer as a meaningful act, even though it doesn't affect the real world in a verifiable way. (Any claimed effects of prayer are easily explained by confirmation bias and placebo effects.) If we indulge the superstition of prayer, we indulge the kind of magical thinking that allows people to believe that typing "amen" will make a difference in the world.

If you want to help sick people without indulging superstition, donate to a secular relief organization like "Doctors Without Borders" or a humanist charity like "Foundation Beyond Belief."

I've reported the page "Stories That Touch" to Facebook as a scam, and I encourage you to do the same. You can do it easily by visiting the page and clicking "More."


You can learn more about "like farming" here:

You can learn why prayer doesn't work here:

You can donate to Doctors Without Borders here:

You can donate to the Foundation Beyond Belief here;

Monday, December 12, 2016

Is a Secular Worldview the Same as a Religion?

In conversation with Christians, I am frequently told that my secular worldview is akin to a religion. Recently, one of them linked me to the following page:

“Has the Supreme Court defined religion?”

The following paragraphs are adapted from my reply. Of course, it is not a comprehensive investigation of the issue. However, I learned some interesting things.

• Davis v. Beason defined religion in traditional theistic terms.
• Wisconsin v. Yoder stated, “Not all beliefs rise to the demands of the religious clause of the First Amendment. There needs to be evidence of true and objective religious practices.”
• Thomas v. Review Board initially concluded that a Jehovah’s Witness had “made a merely personal philosophical choice, rather than a religious choice” in resigning from his job.
• Torcaso v. Watkins struck down religious tests for public office.
• United States v. Seeger and Welsh v. United States affirmed “conscientious objector” status for people who don’t believe in any gods.

Looking at these examples, I see a mix of cases that affirm the idea of religion as distinct from a secular worldview (Davis v. Beason, Wisconsin v. Yoder, Thomas v. Review Board) and cases that prevent discrimination against those who do not hold traditional religious worldviews (Torcaso v. Watkins, United States v. Seeger, Welsh v. United States).

I also want to touch on the Torcaso v. Watkins footnote. From Wikipedia, “Justice Black's use of the term ‘secular humanism’ in his footnote has been seized upon by some religious groups . . . as a ‘finding’ that any secular or science-based activity is, in fact, religion.” According to the article, “This assertion is based on a reference to court cases where organized groups of self-identified humanists, or ethicists, meeting on a regular basis to share and celebrate their beliefs, have been granted religious-based tax exemptions.” Those exemptions were decided in Washington Ethical Society v. District of Columbia and Fellowship of Humanity v. County of Alameda, both of which involved organized groups of non-theists seeking tax exemptions—exemptions like those already given to churches.

In the former case, “The court decision did not address the question of whether the ideas of Ethical Culture were inherently religious; it merely determined that the Washington Ethical Society functioned like a church and so was entitled to similar protections.” In the latter case, the court determined that tax exemptions for churches must be justified in terms of non-religious aspects. The decision reads, “Direct tax subsidies of any church . . . are undoubtedly prohibited by the First Amendment to the United States Constitution . . . [so] a logical and legal justification of such provisions must be found.”

Their justification for tax-exempting churches was that “it is sound public policy to encourage, by tax exemption as well as by direct subsidy, private undertakings in the fields that are properly within the realm of governmental responsibility. Thus, welfare, charitable and private educational grants and subsidies are valid. All churches that warrant the exemption perform some of these tasks. Therefore, churches can be indirectly subsidized for the performance of these tasks. . . . [and] if the state can constitutionally subsidize those functions of religious groups which are not related to ‘religion’ in its narrow sense, then it must subsidize those nontheistic groups which perform the same functions.”

A pursuant decision in Kalka v. Hawk also commented on the Torcaso footnote: “The Court's statement in Torcaso does not stand for the proposition that humanism, no matter in what form and no matter how practiced, amounts to a religion under the First Amendment. The Court offered no test for determining what system of beliefs qualified as a ‘religion’ under the First Amendment. The most one may read into the Torcaso footnote is the idea that a particular non-theistic group calling itself the ‘Fellowship of Humanity’ qualified as a religious organization under California law."

So where does that leave us? Before asking that question, I think we should clarify what distinction we’re trying to make, and why that distinction matters.

In the past, I have stated, “Everyone has a worldview. Not everyone has a religion. (That is, unless you water down the definition of ‘religion’ to become almost meaningless.)”

I based that on Merriam-Webster’s definition of religion:
1st definition: “the service and worship of God or the supernatural.”
4th definition: “a cause, principle, or system of beliefs held to with ardor and faith.”

The 4th definition is the “watered-down” definition of religion that I mentioned. It’s worth noting that the related word “religious” does not have a corresponding 4th definition, even though it has corresponding definitions 1-3, including, “relating to or manifesting faithful devotion to an acknowledged ultimate reality or deity.”

So, I hope we can agree that the primary definition of “religion” involves the supernatural, and that secular belief systems count as “religions” only in the loosest terms.

The next question is why that distinction matters. Even if you manage to prove that my worldview can be called a “religion,” what does that accomplish? Why are you so eager to bring my worldview into parity with a religion? I’ve encountered such arguments from religious people many times, and I can only assume that it’s an attempt to drag my perspective down to the same level of legitimacy.

This must be a common problem because it’s been addressed by high-profile figures like Bill Maher. He said, “When it comes to religion, we're not two sides of the same coin, and you don't get to put your unreason up on the same shelf with my reason. Your stuff has to go over there, on the shelf with Zeus and Thor and the Kraken, with the stuff that is not evidence-based, stuff that religious people never change their mind about, no matter what happens.”

Regardless of how you choose to label my worldview, it is not based on a holy book, and it does not include unshakeable beliefs that transcend observable reality. In every important way, it is not a religion.

As the saying goes...
"If atheism is a religion, then bald is a hair color."

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Why Third Parties Must Be Allowed to Debate

Tonight, we saw the first televised debate between Trump and Clinton. The most prominent third-party candidates, Gary Johnson and Jill Stein, were not invited. Why?

Those decisions are made by the Commission on Presidential Debates (CPD), an organization founded by the Republicans and Democrats in 1987. Prior to that, the debates were run by the League of Women Voters, which objected strongly to the CPD’s takeover. ''I think they're trying to steal the debates from the American voters,'' said Nancy Neuman, the League’s president. “The League of Women Voters is withdrawing its sponsorship . . . because the demands of the two campaign organizations would perpetrate a fraud.”

Read the League’s 1988 press release here:

The CPD’s two founding chairmen were the chairmen of the Republican and Democratic National Committees. Both men stated that the CPD would probably exclude third parties.

Read a 1987 New York Times article about the CPD’s creation here:

From 1988 to 1996, the CPD used vague criteria to decide which candidates would be included in the debates. During that time, a third-party candidate was included only once (Ross Perot in 1992). Then, in the year 2000, the CPD adopted a more rigid set of criteria:

{1} The candidate must be constitutionally eligible.
{2} The candidate must appear on enough state ballots to conceivably win.
{3} The candidate must have at least 15% support in a chosen set of national polls.

The first criterion is a no-brainer. The second one is a challenge for third parties because ballot access requirements in some states are extreme. It takes a lot of time and effort for state campaign organizers to get their presidential candidates onto the state ballots. Usually, third parties settle for ballot access in less than 50 states, but this year, the Libertarian Party managed 50-state ballot access for the first time since 1996. (The Green Party is on the ballot in 45 states this year.) Considering the difficulty of obtaining ballot access, it should be enough by itself to qualify for the debates... but it’s not.

That brings us to the CPD’s 15% polling criterion. It isn't high enough to affect major-party candidates, who reliably poll above 30%. It's only high enough to affect third-party candidates, who reliably poll below 10%. As a result, third-party candidates have been excluded from the debates ever since the 15% threshold was enacted. It is now a predictable outcome. We know it’s going to happen. The CPD knows it’s going to happen. Since they haven’t changed their threshold in response, we can assume that either (a) they don't care about excluding third parties, or (b) they’re doing it intentionally.

I understand that the CPD doesn’t want every Tom, Dick, and Harry who files paperwork to be on the debate stage... but a 5% threshold would be more than enough to keep out the obscure fringe candidates. Compared to that, 15% is a blatant exclusion strategy.

The counterargument to including Gary Johnson is that he doesn’t have “enough” support. Currently, his polling average is around 7.4% (down from a high of 9%), which represents about 10 million voters. Is 10 million people “enough” support? Some will say yes; some will say no, but I maintain that the CPD – an organization founded by Republicans and Democrats – should not be the one to decide.

According to three recent polls, 52-76% of likely voters want to see Gary Johnson included in the debates. It is hugely telling that more than 50% of the voters want to see him included when only 7% plan to vote for him. It suggests that even people who don't support him are interested in hearing from a third choice. And why not? A third candidate will raise different issues and share different perspectives. A third candidate will enrich the conversation and hold the major-party candidates to a higher standard, driving them to improve. In other words, a third-party candidate has a valuable place in the conversation, even when he doesn’t have a significant chance of winning.

On that note, isn’t the candidate’s “chance of winning” a self-fulfilling prophecy? Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton have a high chance of winning because everyone believes they have a high chance of winning. You can see the effect of that belief when you look at current polling and compare it to the primaries. During the primaries, Donald Trump had the support of 13 million people... but now, as the Republican nominee, has the support of 57 million people. Hillary Clinton had the support of 16 million people... but now, as the Democratic nominee, has the support of 57 million people.  



Once you are nominated by a major party, you automatically gain millions of supporters. (If Gary Johnson magically became the Republican nominee tomorrow morning, he would be polling at 30% by tomorrow night.) Those new supporters don’t necessarily like you as a candidate; they just feel compelled to choose you or “the other guy” because we have a two-party system. On the other hand, third parties are stuck in a catch-22 where no one takes them seriously because they “can't win,” and they “can't win” because no one takes them seriously. The CPD's choice to exclude them just reinforces that catch-22.

Moreover, polls don’t accurately reflect a third-party candidate’s appeal, especially compared to major-party candidates. Most of the polls ask, "Who would you vote for?" not "Who do you like best?" and that’s a problem for two reasons. First, voters are strategic, so they don’t always vote for the candidate they like best; they vote for a candidate they believe can win. Second, voters don’t always consider a candidate with low name recognition—a candidate they haven’t heard much about. Since third-party candidates receive astronomically less media coverage, that's a big problem.

We can’t fix the strategic voting problem without overhauling our electoral system... which is probably a good idea, but isn’t going to happen any time soon. However, we can fix the name recognition problem by including third parties in the debates. For voters to consider supporting Gary Johnson, they have to know about Gary Johnson and see him as a viable alternative to Trump and Clinton. That won’t happen unless they see him on the debate stage with Trump and Clinton. Until then, it’s meaningless to say that he doesn’t have “enough” support. His poll numbers have more to do with our electoral process and our media trends than with him as a candidate.

Consider this analogy: You have just opened a pizza shop in a small town which already has two pizza shops. After investing the time and money to start your business, you approach the local newspaper and ask for your restaurant to be listed in the “Food” section with the others. The newspaper declines, saying, “Sorry, but we only list restaurants that are already patronized by 15% of the town.” (As a side note, this newspaper is run by the former owners of the other two pizza shops.) The problem should be obvious: How are you supposed to get half as many customers as the other pizza shops when you aren’t presented as an alternative to the other pizza shops?

Granted, you can advertise in other ways — by word of mouth, distributing flyers, etc. – but the fact remains that you are being disadvantaged by not receiving equal opportunity. Your hypothetical pizza shop is being told that it won’t be given a reasonable chance to succeed unless it succeeds first. That is a total contradiction, but it’s what third-party candidates are hearing from the CPD.

For the good of our election process, that should change.

Monday, November 16, 2015

Answers for a Christian Friend

The following was adapted from my letter to a family friend. I was raised in the Christian faith (like his children, who were my childhood friends), but I now have an atheist worldview. The following essays articulate my stance on several of “the big questions.” They are framed in response to his arguments for the Christian faith.

—On Religion and Culture—


Countries with Christian traditions have more Christians. Countries with Buddhist traditions have fewer Christians. This happens because religious people usually have the same religion as their parents.

You admit that culture has an impact on what people believe. Yet, you claim that God still makes a way for everyone to hear “the Truth” of Christianity. To me, that sounds like you’re making a convenient assumption. (And, the more assumptions you need to make, the more unlikely your explanation becomes.)

In my opinion, it is more likely that religion aligns with cultural boundaries because it is a component of culture. It is more likely that people believe religious stories because they learn those stories when they are children.

This is a better explanation because it does not require me to make special assumptions, like the assumption that religious beliefs behave differently than other cultural beliefs.

—On the Origin of the Universe—


You say that God must have created the universe because “nothing comes from nothing.” I assume you know this old argument by its proper name, “the argument from first cause.” (It’s been around since Aristotle’s time, at least.) I also assume that you’ve heard the old response: “If nothing comes from nothing, where did God come from?”

You tried to suggest that special rules apply to God by saying that he “always was,” but that is another special assumption. If you can say, “God always existed,” I can say, “The universe always existed.” Regardless of whether we invoke God, we are invoking special rules when we claim that a “first cause” could exist. No matter what we cite as the “first cause,” we are violating the conventional idea that “nothing comes from nothing.”

The truth is, no one really knows how the universe began. You respond by embracing a mythical explanation, but I respond by admitting, “I don’t know.” David Eagleman called those “the most important three words that science ever gave to humankind.” He used them to conclude his talk at TEDxHouston, which you can watch here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LENqnjZGX0A

Eagleman’s talk is on “possibilianism,” a tongue-in-cheek ideology. The goal is to remain open-minded without becoming gullible. In Eagleman’s words, “We know too little to commit to a position of strict atheism (where we act like we’ve got it all figured out), but we know too much to commit to a particular religious position.”

That is my opinion too. I remain open-minded about the possibility of a higher power, but I have never been impressed by the arguments for specific religions.

—On the Mind of an Atheist—


You keep returning to the idea that nonbelievers somehow know the “Truth” of your religion already. Supposedly, we are just denying it, or suppressing it.

For the good of your own arguments, you should let go of this idea. Clinging to it prevents you from understanding the position that you argue against... and you will never be able to challenge the mindset of an atheist unless you understand it.

To understand the mindset of an atheist, you have to imagine (however briefly) that your religion is not “obviously the one that’s true.” You have to place it in a bucket with the world’s other religions and ask, “What makes my religion true when the others are false?”

Remember, I’m not going to take your religion more seriously just because it’s old, or popular, or a traditional part of American culture. To me, your religion looks like a bunch of myths and superstitions, so I’m going to treat it that way unless you can convince me otherwise.

Should I be convinced because your holy book contains some good ideas? No, because your holy book isn’t the only one with good ideas.

Should I be convinced because humans are born with empathy and reason? Not unless you can explain how that proves your god specifically.

Should I be convinced because you think you have a personal relationship with God? Of course not. You could be imagining that.

Should I be convinced because God answers your prayers? Not unless you can prove it. Your “answered prayer” might be a coincidence, or something that happened naturally. For example, you would probably thank God if you survived cancer, but people survive cancer all the time (with or without praying). When there’s a natural explanation, how can you be sure that the prayer made a supernatural difference?

If you really want to impress me, you should find an amputee and pray for God to grow his arm back. That would convince me that prayer works!

(For more on this idea, visit http://whywontgodhealamputees.com/)


In the end, you don't need to agree with my worldview, but you should acknowledge that my worldview is valid. Sure, you can tell yourself that I’m in denial instead... but that’s an easy, dismissive response to the points that I’ve made. We both deserve better.

What if I’m not buying the sales pitch for your religion just because the sales pitch isn’t very good? What if the “evidence” for your god isn’t as convincing as you think it is? What if the supernatural “Truth” of your god isn’t as obvious as it seems to you? What then?

That is for you to decide. I cannot pretend that I know your mindset better than you do. However, you need to stop acting like you know mine better than I do! In the face of my reasoned arguments, and the actual facts about my worldview, it is absurd for you to cling to the idea that I’m just in denial about your religion being true.

Dictionary.com defines a delusion as “a fixed false belief that is resistant to reason or confrontation with actual fact.” You have, in effect, a delusional belief that I am delusional.

—On Communicating Your Message—


I do not expect to convince you that you are wrong in your convictions, but I sincerely want you to realize how your arguments sound from the outside.

When you use “Truth” with a capital “T,” you clearly have a special meaning in mind. Perhaps you are using “Truth” as a synonym for “God.” However, you can’t expect me to understand what you mean (much less be swayed by your argument) if you assign special meanings to the words that you use.

You can’t just say these things and expect me to accept them because they sound good. If you are ever going to convince someone like me, you will need to explain exactly how and why your god explains our existence better than the alternatives. You will need to do this without relying exclusively on Bible verses, or on “obvious” truths that are only obvious to you, and others of your faith.

And remember, it is not sufficient to show that your god is a possible explanation; you will need to show that your god is the best available explanation. So often, this is where religious arguments fall down.

—On Morality—


Does every person know it is wrong to steal? To lie? To murder?

When I look at the world around me, I don’t think that’s true. Consider people with personality defects and cognitive problems. Their sense of right and wrong might be absent, or totally different from the norm. A psychopath might feel no remorse after murdering someone!

But, without a universal sense of right and wrong, can we decide our own morals?

Once upon a time, Bertrand Russell said that he could distinguish right from wrong in the same way that he could distinguish red from green. This story is sometimes used to make Russell look bad, but only because people fail to understand the comparison.

Let’s say that green corresponds to good and red corresponds to evil.

Most people perceive “red” in a similar way. The perception is consistent enough that Crayola can sell a crayon labeled “red” and most people will agree with the label. (The people who have a different perception are considered color-blind, and their perception is not validated by Crayola’s labeling system.)

Most people perceive “evil” in a similar way. The perception is consistent enough that society can condemn stealing, lying, and murder as “evil” and most people will agree. (The people who have a different perception are considered dysfunctional, and their perception is not validated by society’s ethical system.)

You assume that humanity’s shared perception of evil is a result of God’s influence. However, it is better explained by social practicality. Stealing, lying, and murder are considered “evil” because they are antisocial behaviors, in the literal sense of being antagonistic to society. Therefore, most societies evolved to condemn such behaviors.

Obviously, this is not a perfect system. Thus, it is vital for each person to make thoughtful choices about when to embrace society’s ethics and when to reject them.

As an atheist, I do not get to decide what is objectively right or wrong... but I have to decide what kind of person I will be. That is the responsibility I speak of when I talk about “deciding my own morals.”

Sunday, September 6, 2015

"God's Not Dead" Abridged (with Commentary)

Since before its release, I’ve been hearing about a little movie called “God’s Not Dead.” It has a 16% rating with critics on Rotten Tomatoes, but a 78% rating with audience members—presumably Christian audience members. That is the same audience that turned a profit for the 2-million-dollar film with a 60-million-dollar box office, leading to a sequel that will be arriving next year. (It will release on April Fool’s Day, continuing the original film’s tradition of unintended irony.)

I knew enough about the film to know that the antagonist is an atheist professor, played by Kevin Sorbo. As an atheist professor myself, I wondered how my “kind” were being represented. I decided to satisfy my curiosity and give the film a watch. I also decided to satisfy your curiosity by recording my thoughts along the way.

The following should read like a “Cliff’s Notes” version of the film, with commentary. I hope that I have captured the core experience of enduring – sorry, watching – “God’s Not Dead.”


Okay, at least it’s well-produced.


Uh-oh! Am I watching the wrong movie?


Shew. That’s better.


The film is showing an array of characters at this point, but it hasn’t really introduced them yet.


The main character, Josh Wheaton, is immediately likeable, so the movie gets props for casting.

He’s arriving at college and the advisor encourages him to switch to a different philosophy class. Apparently, this professor has a bad reputation with Christian students.


Who would want an “I Heart Evolution” bumper sticker? Are there actual people who would want that?

At least they’re representing humanists along with atheists, though.


We just learned that the humanist is an ambush reporter.


Here we see the film’s token atheist eating a baby.

Just kidding. Actually, this scene was sweet and well done. (The old lady is senile and her daughter is visiting. We just learned that the daughter’s lack of a wedding ring is “complicated.”)


Enter the atheist!

This introductory scene was mildly funny and even made him slightly likable.


I'm pretty sure that kid in the back is not of college age.

Anyway, Professor Sorbo declares that the God debate is basically settled and doesn’t want to waste time on it in class, so he’s asking every student to write “God is dead” on a piece of paper and sign it. The idea is to get that debate out of the way so they can move on to other things. (But he’s tying it to their grades for leverage, which is clearly unethical.)

It would have been more appropriate if he had asked them to sign a “skepticism pledge” or something similar, promising to leave their preconceived notions at the door to enable an open discussion of philosophy. However, that wouldn’t have given the movie a catchy title or created an interesting conflict, so I’m willing to let it slide.

On the bright side, he mentioned that he was using the phrase “God is dead” metaphorically and said that he viewed God as a myth which primitive humanity used to explain things it didn’t understand. It’s nice that he’s not playing into the Christian narrative that atheists are just angry at a god they secretly believe in—at least not yet.


Of course, Josh wouldn’t sign the “God is dead” claim, so now they must fight! With words. In the next three classes. And Josh will have his grade unfairly damaged unless he does the impossible. Sorbo’s claim to the moral high ground is getting weaker.

(Yes, the teacher’s name is Jeffrey Radisson, but I’m just going to call him “Sorbo.”)

Side note: Sorbo just assigned Bertrand Russell’s “Why I Am Not a Christian” essay as a reading. I wonder how many Christians watching this movie actually bothered to read that essay.


Josh’s girlfriend is pretty controlling and doesn’t want him to do the debate. That doesn’t matter, though, because I’m pretty sure this cafeteria worker is going to hook up with Josh by the end of the movie. She hasn’t done any actual work during this scene of them talking.


Wow, the ambush reporter is ACTUALLY going to ambush this guy. At this point, I’m expecting her to jump out and yell, “Surprise!”

And yes, that’s the guy from Duck Dynasty.


Willie Robertson is a better actor than his wife.

Also, the reporter is getting annoying. She was snide for no reason when she asked him about Jesus, and she has this “shocked and horrified that you kill ducks even though I’m ambushing you because you kill ducks” thing going on. (See the “meat is murder” bumper sticker from earlier.)

Plus, she was going to do a hard-hitting interview, but she just stood there dumbly while he made general statements about life and Jesus.


This was an interesting scene. The Muslim father (who’s very gentle and sympathetic) says, “I know they look happy, but...” when describing all of the people at the school. Just before this, another girl told her, “You’re very beautiful. I wish you didn’t have to cover your face.”

I think that we, as the audience, are supposed to think it’s a shame that her religion is forcing her to be unhappy and repressed. Yet, from the outside, many would say the same thing about the Christian culture that’s producing this film.


In this scene, Josh goes to church and gets advice from Pastor Dave, who is – unsurprisingly – likeable. (This movie makes it very easy to tell who you’re supposed to like.)

The pastor lends a sympathetic ear and tells him to check out a few Bible verses, to which Josh replies, “That’s all? It can’t be that simple.” The pastor answers, “It’s not easy, but it’s simple.”

This echoes the Duck Dynasty guy from earlier when he said, “That’s it. That’s what we’re goin’ with. Pretty simple, idn’ it?” This movie has a strong underlying theme of taking religious matters at face value, which is ironic in a movie structured around philosophical debate.


Josh just texted the pastor to say he’s going through with the debate. The pastor texts back, “Don’t try to be clever. Be content to tell the truth.” Like a lot of things said in this movie, it’s a nice sentiment. They’re working really hard to resonate with your better nature and use that to earn your trust.


The ambush reporter just learned that she has cancer. I would make a joke about how she was ambushed by the news, but...

Okay, I just made that joke.


Yeah, this relationship definitely won’t last. She’s so selfish and bossy!


The guy on the right is Pastor Dave. The guy on the left is a missionary from another country visiting America. They had a big day of sightseeing planned, but now the car won’t start. However, the missionary is taking the news pretty well, because his level of likeability is so high that it dwarfs the likeability of all other likeable characters we have liked so far.


Ooh! Debate time! Josh starts out by acknowledging that no one can prove or disprove the existence of God. That’s fair.

Josh then quotes an atheist physicist, Steven Weinberg, in his description of the Big Bang, suggesting that it evokes the phrase, “Let there be light.” I’m not sure what that proves, but at least it means this movie isn’t from a Creationist perspective.

Here’s where things get sketchy. Josh points out that, for 2500 years, most scientists agreed that the universe had no beginning, while the Bible always said that it did. He ties this observation up with a bow by saying, “For 2500 years, the Bible had it right and science had it wrong.”

Hoo boy. That’s a very strong conclusion to draw from a single, cherry-picked comparison. Especially when you’ve just discarded the rest of the Biblical creation story by validating the Big Bang!


Sorbo looks worried. Josh continues, “In the real world, we never see things jumping into existence out of nothingness, but atheists want to make one small exception to this rule, namely the universe and everything in it."

Wow. Josh is appealing to everyday experience in the realm of physics, where everyday experience does not apply. He is also treating one particular attitude about the Big Bang as the attitude of all atheists.

Continuing to talk universal origins, Josh says, “Both the theist and the atheist are burdened with the same question of, how did things start?” (Okay, good point. Let’s see where he takes it.) “If you don’t allow for God, you’d be pretty hard-pressed to find any credible alternative explanation for how things came to be.” (D’oh!)

Sorbo fires back with a quote from Stephen Hawking, heavily emphasizing the fact that Stephen Hawking is respected in his field.

Josh is suggesting that it’s silly to believe “the universe came from nothing,” but he overlooks the fact that atheists don’t necessarily believe that. Sorbo is wasting his time arguing that the universe did come from nothing, but he should just be arguing that we shouldn’t jump to conclusions (like “God did it”).


Sorbo just grabbed Josh’s shoulder and said, “Do you think you’re smarter than me?” Then he made a bunch of arrogant threats about ruining Josh’s future if Josh embarrasses him.

No wonder he’s worried. He’s a philosophy teacher and he’s terrible at philosophy debates.


Now Josh’s childhood sweetheart is breaking up with him because of the debate. I can’t believe they lasted six years together, because she’s a controlling ass-monkey.

On the bright side, she is the only unlikeable person in this movie who’s not an atheist.


The Muslim girl just came home, closed her bedroom door, and fell asleep on her bed listening to (gasp) a Christian sermon. Her creepy brother enters her room without knocking (seriously, look at that creepy screenshot), apparently to steal her phone so he can play games.


She catches him, grabs him by the arm, and goes full-on Batman.

“Swear you won’t tell!” SWEAR TO ME!!


Oh yeah, Dean Cain is in this movie. I think his name is Mark. Is it Mark? Let’s go with Mark. (I just looked it up. It’s Marc. With a “c.”)

“Marc” is apparently dating the ambush reporter. (I should really learn their names.)

In this scene, he announces that he made partner at the firm, and she ruins his good mood by telling him that she has cancer. He reacts in a completely absurd way and breaks up with her. His behavior makes no sense, and it also makes him a total jerk. (More like “Mean Cain,” am I right?)


Josh encounters another student in the library, who asks him why he is doing the debates.

This is the scene that establishes how Josh’s testimony is working in his classmates’ hearts, or something. It delivers on a suggestion made by Pastor Dave earlier, when he said that most of those students would not set foot in church, putting Josh in a unique position to reach them.


Pastor Dave and the missionary waited until 5pm for a rental car, and now it won’t start either. I’m sure that “God is working in mysterious ways” somehow, so I’m curious to see where this is going.


Apparently the woman from earlier – the one visiting the old lady – is Marc’s sister, and she’s telling him to visit their senile mom. He responds, as before, with an almost inconceivable level of asshattery.


Oh, it looks like she’s Sorbo’s girlfriend. And her name is Mina. And she’s a former student of his. And their relationship started after she aced the midterm in his class. (Apparently, the writers felt that he hadn’t done enough unprofessional things yet.)

Their conversation just revealed that she’s a Christian and it’s causing friction in their relationship.


We’re back to the storyline with the car that won’t start. The rental guy brought another one and it has the same problem.

In this screenshot, Pastor Dave makes the face that I’ve been making throughout the movie.


Sorbo is throwing a dinner party for his academic friends. Unsurprisingly, they are also douchebags. Mina is acting like she’s a waitress.

The academic conversation turns to the God debate in Sorbo’s class and Mina timidly admits that she’s a Christian. Sorbo shuts her down politely, but condescendingly.


The Asian student is on the phone with his dad. He tested out of math (no stereotypes here), but he’s concerned about Sorbo’s class. His dad tells him to just believe whatever the professor believes.


Back to the dinner party. Mina left the wine in the car earlier today, and now it’s ruined. Instead of being polite, the guests put on their Gordon Ramsay hats and insult it in colorful ways.

Mina admits her mistake and Sorbo responds with a Greek quote that she doesn’t understand. A minute later, he explains: “Know your limitations.” Obviously, he loves her but doesn’t respect her.

Unsurprisingly, she refers to herself sarcastically as “the help” and leaves, while trying not to cry. I would feel bad for her if the whole situation hadn’t been so obviously contrived to victimize her.


The ambush reporter is in the hospital again, this time for an MRI.

So much emphasis was given to this sign that I thought she was going to blow up or something.


Back to the debate! Josh is responding to the Stephen Hawking quote from last time. Josh responds with a rebuttal from John Lennox, another smart guy, who declares that Hawking’s reasoning is circular.

The continuing focus on empty appeals-to-authority frustrates me. It strikes me as an attempt to suggest that scientists and/or atheists also derive their beliefs from “faith” in “holy writings.”


Josh gets a nice “burn” moment with this quote, also from Stephen Hawking. (If Sorbo thinks Hawking is right about everything, is he right when he says that Sorbo’s career is dead? BURN.)

The scene ends with this, and Sorbo is getting frustrated. So am I. Nothing of any substance was said in this portion of the debate. They just argued about whether Stephen Hawking is right all the time.


Mina’s meeting with Pastor Dave and she talks about her relationship with Sorbo. Dave says, “You’re looking for his approval to give you a sense of self-worth instead of generating it internally.” It sounds like he’s giving good advice, until...

“If God is incapable of mistakes, and he made you in his likeness and image, then it follows that he cares about you, right? To the wrong person, you’ll never have any worth. To the right person, you mean everything.”

In short, he says that she’s looking for Sorbo’s approval instead of generating her self-worth internally, and then he tells her to derive her self-worth from God’s love... instead of generating it internally.


Oh goodie! We’re on the topic of evolution now. This should be good.

Josh said, “Evolution only tells you what happens after you have life.” Then he emphasized that we don’t know where life came from in the first place. Both are valid points.

Josh mentions that life might have started in primordial ooze after a lightning strike, but says, “It’s just not that simple.” The statement is incredibly ironic because “it’s just that simple” is the message that this movie keeps trying to send about Christianity. (Recall Pastor Dave: “It’s not easy, but it’s simple.” Recall the Duck Dynasty guy: “That’s what we’re goin’ with. Pretty simple, idn’ it?”)


Josh quotes Darwin: “Nature does not jump.” Then he says something rather vague: “If you can picture the entire 3.8 billion years that scientists say life has been around . . . most major animal groups suddenly appear in the forms in which they currently hold, not slowly and steadily as Darwin predicted, but in evolutionary terms almost instantly.”

Rather than refuting (or even mentioning) the scientific explanation for this fact, he says, “How do theists explain this?” and then puts a Bible verse on the screen.


Josh concludes, “In other words, Creation happened because God said it should happen.”

Prove it, Josh. You’re not allowed to dismiss a scientific idea by saying, “It’s just not that simple,” and then act like the origin of life is THIS simple. 


Cancer-ambush-humanist-reporter-girl (I still don’t know her name) is at the hospital again. The doctor asks if there is anybody that she’d like to have with her, and she realizes that she has no one.


Wow, Sorbo actually does the villain clap here.

Josh says, “It’s easy to dismiss what you don’t understand, or what you don’t want to understand.” Once again, the irony is incredible.

Sorbo’s still a jerk, but this scene is the most I’ve liked him since the beginning of the movie. He actually says a few things I support, for once. He starts by quoting the Bible at Josh, challenging the assumption that atheists just haven’t read it yet.

Instead of answering the content of Sorbo’s remarks, Josh responds to the tone of his remarks. He asks, “What happened to you?” We learn that Sorbo’s mother died of cancer when he was 12. He prayed for her to be spared, and she wasn’t, so now he’s jaded.

When Josh dares to tell him, “Sometimes God says no,” Sorbo says, “Tell that to me the day that you lose someone you love. She died believing a lie. She died believing that someone out there loved her, even while he was strangling her to death. A god who would allow that is not worth believing in.”

Sorbo is more emotionally and rationally compelling here than Josh, but he’s playing into the Christian misconception that atheists are secretly angry at God (and/or emotionally damaged).


The Muslim girl’s father just learned that she’s been listening to Christian sermons. He was so gentle and sympathetic earlier in the movie, so I’m sure he’ll confront her with love. I look forward to hearing his wise words on the matter.


Holy shit!


After literally slapping her off of the bed, he follows her around the house, demanding she renounce Jesus. In one of the most painful line deliveries of the movie, she breathlessly exclaims, “No, Papa! Jesus is my Lord and Savior and he died to save me from MY sins!” Then she gets slapped again.

This painful line is followed by a painful sequence in which he physically throws her out of the house. He cries, she cries, her little brother cries, the dog cries (probably), and a female vocalist sings a soul ballad. Then he collapses on the staircase, wondering why he agreed to do this movie.


On the bright side, now atheists aren’t the only non-Christians being portrayed badly!


The Asian student is on the phone with his father again. He says, “There are many arguments in my class about God. They seem to make sense.” The father’s face captures my feelings.


Amy! Her name is Amy!

...But “cancer-ambush-humanist-reporter-girl” still has a ring to it.


Come on, another tearful montage set to music? We just had one of those.

See, what they should have done is intercut this tearful montage with the other tearful montage and try to emphasize some kind of thematic link between them, like...

...Oh, who am I kidding. If I wanted to watch people crying to music, I’d watch Les Miserables.


Did they just reuse the opening shot?


OHHHH, Sorbo just got dumped.

Of course, along the way, he managed to hit a few more douche notes. When she walked up and addressed him as Jeffrey, he reminded her, “On campus, I’m Professor Radisson.”


The Muslim girl is hanging out at Pastor Dave’s. Turns out, her name is Aisha.

With 30 minutes left, the question is, “Will I learn everyone’s name before the movie is over?”


Say what you will about this movie, but it’s scientifically impossible to dislike Pastor Dave.


Just to capture the awkwardness of this elevator ride, I’m going to include the picture twice.


*elevator music*


Today on the debate: “If God is all good, and God is all powerful, why does he allow evil to exist?” Josh poses this difficult and interesting question, but never gives a satisfactory answer. Instead, he explains the existence of evil by saying that God allows free will.

In Sorbo’s response, he brings up wars, holocausts, tsunamis, and starvation... but completely fails to explain why they matter. He should have said that free will can explain wars, holocausts, and even starvation, but free will can’t explain “acts of God” like tsunamis.


Instead of addressing Sorbo’s poorly-made point, Josh changes the subject to morality. He admits that we don’t need God to be moral, but says that there’s no real reason to be moral without God, and no standards for what constitutes morality. Disappointingly, this doesn’t lead to a discussion of how a secular society derives morality. Instead, Josh says some more stuff that sounds good on the surface... and then the subject changes again. (That happens a lot in this movie.)


The debate is getting heated. Josh calls Sorbo out on being an anti-theist and forcing his perspective on his students, which is totally true. (Sorbo responds with something about how he’ll enjoy failing Josh, as if he hadn’t done enough unprofessional things in the movie already.)

Things get a little weird when Josh changes the subject again by asking, “Do you hate God?” When Sorbo dismisses the question, he changes it to, “Why do you hate God?” He keeps pressing, repeating the question louder and louder. Along the way – as the music fabricates a dramatic climax – he says, “You’ve seen the science and the arguments. Science supports his existence. You know the truth!”

“Science supports his existence,” Josh? When did you prove that? He says it quickly too, managing to squeeze it into a part of the debate where there’s no room for Sorbo to challenge it or the audience to question it. It’s a sneaky reinforcement of what the Christian audience already believes.


Of course, Sorbo plays right into the narrative and cracks, confessing, “Because he took everything away from me! Yes, I hate God. All I have for him is hate.” (Cue troubled reactions from the students.)

With sudden calm, Josh asks, “How can you hate someone if they don’t exist?” It’s clear that this is meant to seem like a profound “gotcha” moment, even though it’s a silly question. It only seems to carry weight because Sorbo is a strawman, contrived to fit the Christian fantasy that atheists are just secret believers, angry at God. This is one of the parts where I wanted to throw my popcorn at the screen.


Now the debate is over and the students must decide who won. We are forced to endure an “uplifting” scene where they rise to their feet one by one, starting with Asian Martin. (Yay, I learned another name!) To no one’s surprise, they stand and declare, "God is not dead.”

So the movie’s over now, right? God wins and everyone lived happily ever after?


I guess not.

For most of the movie, I have been wondering where the “car won’t start” storyline was headed. It just ended in the strangest way.

Pastor Dave and the missionary walked outside with their bags. The missionary prayed, “Please allow the car to start.” Dave was very pessimistic about the whole enterprise, but the missionary insisted that he have faith. He even insisted that Dave put the bags in the car before they tried to start it.


And it started.

Aside from the question, “Why didn’t they just pray for the car to start in the first place?” this leaves me wondering, “What message are they trying to send here?”

Earlier in the movie, Sorbo talked about praying (as a child) that his mother would live... and Josh had the nerve to tell him, “Sometimes God says no.” Now the missionary is sitting here telling Dave, “All the time, God is good,” just because God said yes to roadside assistance.

What?


Yeah, lady. That’s how I feel too.


It looks like Mean Cain is finally visiting his mother.

She is completely unresponsive, but he muses that she was a devout Christian her whole life, and her reward was to end up with dementia. He calls her the nicest person he knows, and calls himself the meanest... but his life is perfect and hers is wasting away. “Explain that to me,” he challenges.

In a sudden moment of clarity, she says, “Sometimes the Devil allows people to live a life free of trouble because he doesn’t want them turning to God. Their sin is like a jail cell, except it’s all nice and comfy and there doesn’t seem to be any need to leave. The door is wide open. Then one day, time runs out, the cell door slams shut, and suddenly, it’s too late.”

At this point, the story logic of Christianity (as portrayed in this movie) has gotten really confusing. Let’s review:

• Evil exists because of free will, even though free will doesn’t explain tsunamis or cancer.

• God is good all the time, but he only says “yes” to our prayers some of the time. (Specifically, he says “yes” to auto repair and “no” to curing cancer.)

• The Devil says “yes” more often than God, but only to make our lives comfortable enough that we don’t choose God until it’s too late.

In summary:

Good things happen to good people = God.

Good things happen to bad people = the Devil.

Bad things happen to good people = free will.

Bad things happen to bad people = no one cares.


All of our characters are colliding at the Hastings Center for a Newsboys concert. (I Googled the Newsboys. They’re a real thing.)


Amy just marched into the Newsboys’ pre-show lounge, ready to do her ambush reporter thing. (I just noticed that she works for “The New Left.” Of course.)

She says, “You guys are going to go out there and you’re going to sing about God and Jesus, as if they’re as real as you and me. How can you do that?”

At the end of a brief exchange, they tell her that God is where they find their hope. Then they ask, “Where do you find your hope?”

After an awkward silence, she blurts out, “I’m dying.”


Sorbo is sad because he’s the only character who didn’t go to the Newsboys concert.


Nevermind. He’s going too.

Before he saw this newspaper, he tried to call Mina (but got her voicemail) and read a letter that was written by his mother shortly before she died. In the letter, she said, “I know God is in control. His ways our higher than our ways and his thoughts are higher than our thoughts.”

I suppose this means that God isn’t supposed to make sense to us. (Maybe that’s why this movie doesn’t make sense.) But if you can’t understand God’s thoughts or ways, how can you decide whether to believe in him?

The movie keeps switching between two contradictory messages:

1. “God is good, God loves you, and it’s that simple.”

2. “God is too complex for us to understand.”

So which is it? Simple or complex?


The Newsboys are praying with Amy. They ask him to “save” her, which probably doesn’t mean “save her from cancer.” Instead, they ask for things like “letting her know she is loved” and “cleansing her.”

But not of cancer.


The weird thing is, I actually understand why this would make Amy feel better. It’s the first time in the movie that somebody has given a damn about her life. As far as this movie is concerned, she doesn’t have a single friend. She has been going through an awful thing alone. If KISS had treated her as well as the Newsboys just did, I’m sure that would have made her feel better too.

Having said that, “I was lonely and they were nice to me” seems like a bad reason to join a religion.


Now we’re watching some of the Newsboys concert. He sings, “Make way for the king. The king is coming.” Sadly, this did not herald the arrival of Elvis.

The music isn’t bad, though.


As Sorbo is walking to the Newsboys concert, it starts raining. Pastor Dave and the missionary are still in the car, and Sorbo walks in front of them at a traffic light.


Then he gets hit by a car.


Let’s all just stop and appreciate this screenshot for a moment.


Pastor Dave and the missionary jump out of their car to help.

The missionary apparently has X-ray vision, because he declares, “His ribs are crushed. His lungs are filling with blood. He doesn’t have long.” (Of course, he says this right in front of the dying man.)

Jumping straight to the point, Dave asks, “Do you know Jesus?” He goes on to say, “I believe it’s God’s mercy that brought me here right now. That car could have killed you instantly, and I’m sure right now you probably wish that it did, but I’m here to tell you that it’s a gift, because a God that you don’t believe in is giving you another chance—another chance to change your final answer.”

...I have no words for that, so I’m just going to move on.


Pastor Dave tells a story about God saying no to Jesus, and Sorbo replies, “He says no a lot.” Pastor Dave’s response? “He gives us the answer we’d ask for if we knew what he knows.” (You can’t see me, but I’m facepalming really hard right now.)

As if on cue, Sorbo starts quoting his mother’s letter about God’s thoughts being higher than our thoughts. There it is—the pernicious claim that it’s our fault when God doesn’t make sense. (Call me crazy, but I think that you should question something if it doesn’t make sense.)

Half of this movie is telling you to believe in God because it makes sense. The other half is telling you to trust in God when it doesn’t make sense. Writers, get your story straight!

Anyway, Sorbo accepts Jesus. Pastor Dave says, “In a few minutes, you’re gonna know more about God than I do, or anybody else here does. It’s okay.”

And then he dies.


Man, I am so ready to rage-quit this movie.

But, I’ve made it this far and there’s only 10 minutes left. I’m going to take a deep breath. I can do this.

It can’t get any worse, right?


GOD DAMMIT.


Duck Dynasty is back, and he’s talking about the debate at the college (which he heard about... somehow). He encourages every person at the concert to text “God’s not dead” to everyone they know. One of the Newsboys gives a shout-out to Josh, but without saying his name.


Aisha (the Muslim girl) is standing behind Josh. She reveals that she overheard him talking about the God debate with his girlfriend at the cafeteria. (Side note: I only JUST realized that the cafeteria girl and the Muslim girl are the same person. That scene happened before they introduced her character!) I guess I was wrong about her hooking up with Josh before the end of the movie, but they do share a very significant look before he turns around, so I’m going to go ahead and assume they get married.


The concert continues with a song that is actually called “God’s Not Dead.”

Meanwhile, we see several characters (Aisha, Mina, and Martin) texting the “God’s Not Dead” message to the people they know. Martin looks very reluctant at first, but he feels better after he sends the text. He starts clapping to the music and making this adorable face. And come on, look at this face. If accepting Jesus leads to making this face, I might have to consider it.


Mean Cain gets the “God’s Not Dead” text message from Mina, looks at it sternly for a moment, and then tosses the phone onto the backseat. (I’m kind of relieved that this movie isn’t going to end with the miraculous conversion of every single character.)


Meanwhile, at the fatal accident site...

Sorbo’s phone receives the “God’s Not Dead” text from Mina. Pastor Dave and the missionary shamelessly read the dead guy’s text message.


And then make this face.


And this one.


To be clear, they are still standing over Sorbo’s dead body.

The missionary says, “What happened here tonight is a cause for celebration. Pain, yes... just a few moments. But now, think about the joy in Heaven.”

Those are the last spoken words in the film.

And with that, I’m done. I’m out, guys. I am officially done with this bullshit movie.


Oh, just roll credits already.


As the credits roll, a message says that the movie “was inspired by the following legal cases where University Students and Campus Ministries were condemned for their faith.”

I Googled the first five, and none were similar to the movie’s plot. The first three involved students who were vocally opposed to homosexuality; the fourth involved a pro-life event that was canceled on a campus, and the fifth involved the reimbursement of expenses for a Catholic student club.

I would guess that these legal cases were listed because they add a layer of legitimacy to the movie’s plot. If you don’t Google the specifics, you might watch this film and think that persecution of Christian students happens in American colleges all the time.

Ultimately, “God’s Not Dead” is a fantasy story that affirms how some of its Christian audience sees America: as a place where the waning of Christian privilege is tantamount to Christian persecution, and a place where all non-Christians are either immoral or misguided.

Looking back, I doubt this movie was actually designed to convert people to Christianity. Instead, it was designed to preach to the Christian choir by pitting their champions against cardboard atheists. It exists to reinforce the attitudes the Christians already hold, while painting a false picture of atheists (and Muslims) as people without good reasons for believing what they do.

My advice to any Christian watching this film is to go out and meet a real atheist (or have a real conversation with one you already know). Learn what they really believe, not what other Christians believe they believe. Most of all, recognize that this film doesn’t make a strong argument for Christianity; it just makes the arguments for Christianity sound strong.