Passage III--Background

(Note: The first two passages of Darwin Blinks can be found below).

It’s just a bland blur of brown pews that flip through my line of sight as I raise my head from yet another involuntary nod into momentary slumberland.

Until all the dull is suddenly broken up by a red most vibrant.

A unique red I recognize.

Her again?

Like at the club last week, still can't be sure because her face is turned from me.

If it is her, what the hell is she doing here, of all places?

Either she's stalking me or I'm stalking her, subconsciously.

She's not alone as she walks down the aisle with a long-haired man who appears to be jesus christ, himself.

She should be engaged in conversation with me, not my arch-enemy.

That's what I get for going to church.

Course, I'm only here 'cause I'm getting paid.

Really never thought I’d enter a church ever again. With no family nor friends, there aren’t a lot of weddings and funerals to attend.

And even if I had the opportunity to attend such, not sure if I’d do it anyway, not wanting to be in a church and all. It’s been a humiliation and an embarrassment having to come to this church every day for the past week, and sit in these pews, surrounded by all these garish reminders of why the world’s gone horribly wrong.

And it's not just any church I'm in but one of the most famous in the world

But if there’s one thing I hate more than christianity, it would have to be being homeless. And that’s what I’ll be, see, if I don’t sit in this church pew. I’m here as background.

"Background" is the collective term given to extras in this movie biz. . I’m one of the parishioners appearing in the most critical scene of this hyper-budget blockbuster entitled Shepherd, the movie about christ finally returning to Earth, settling down in modern-day America.

It's based on a novel by a woman named Gere, where christ is sent back to "save humanity" once more by his all-father. He takes on the mortal guise of Chris Shepherd (subtle, huh?).

Yes, it is true. I, of all people, am actually sitting in a church and participating in a film depicting jesus christ walking the Earth in the 21st century.

The most ludicrous thing in the world--christ's return is, and here I am playing a role in perpetrating that myth, however small, inconsequential and nonspeaking that role may be, in making it a reality.

Normally, I’d hope that I’d be out of focus or not even visible in each and every shot of this scene.

But in the event that's not the case, I’ve been subtly subverting the film in my own small way: Every time we’ve been used, as parishioners reacting to all the “amazing” events taking place around us—I’ve brandished a shit-eating grin.

Easily the most inappropriate reaction one could offer. Even if I were emoting murderous rage, that would be more fitting.

No one’s noticed me yet. If some AD (assistant director) does, I'll just attribute it to “nervousness or something,” and promise to react properly.

Then I’d go back to smirking like a smart-ass.

Lucky, I’m closer to the back, so no one’s noticed. Probably am out of focus or not in any of the shots, anyway, so all my subversion is likely for naught.

Shouldn’t push my luck, though. Don’t want to lose a day’s pay or get in the doghouse with my casting agency, Bay Bridge Casting, which supplies extras whenever a movie’s shot up here in the City.

There’s got to be a more dignified way to make a living.

But beyond writing, I’m not clever enough to figure out how to do that. And no one wants to pay me to write anymore.

This is the first work, of any kind, I’ve gotten since November. Been here a week and at $150 a night including overtime (the average shoot is a 16-hour day), that’s going to cover rent and all my living expenses for the month, and then some, considering how spartanly I live.

When my casting agency offered this job, I nearly balked, given the subject matter and my aversion to it. But they insisted they had nothing else for me and all my temp job agencies were likewise dry due to this wretched economy, so here I am.

As much as I value my integrity, it doesn't pay much of the rent.

So lost in thought, didn't notice the redhead and the actor playing jesus christ have sauntered off together, leaving me uncertain and full of regret. My usual state, these days.

Just about to wonder if I'll see her again, but I already know the answer to that--of course I will. When don't I see her?

Half-expecting her to be loitering in my apartment when the shoot ends.

Churches normally give me the creeps anyway, but this one in particular really skeeves me out. Don’t really care what the real name is, like I said, I just call it St. Whatever, even though it's non-denominational, not actually catholick.

He’s the patron saint of not giving a flying fuck.

This is the oldest and most renowned church in SF, at the very top of Snob Hill and as ornate and showy on the inside as it is on the outside. The high arching ceiling seems to literally reach for the sky and the stain glass depictions of various biblical events are as pretentious as they are majestic.

Everything is immaculate at St. Whatever, from the freshly vacuumed carpeting to the spotless shining chalices on the altar.

But none of that bothers me, really. No, what gets me is the giant crucifix on the wall, facing me.
Seems like it's 42 feet high. As big as the one in the window I tripped out on was small.

It's the christian symbol of death...come to life, as it were.

The crown of thorns, the tears of the mesiah's doubt and pain mixing with the droplets of blood.
The spikes through the hands and feet, the big brown cross of wood, the sorrow in christ's eyes--it's all there.

Mocking me, reminding me of what a chickenshit sellout I am for doing this. Better I sell drugs to children then be a part of this outlandish, pretentious waste of celluloid.

Only thing to do is to stop looking at it and think about other things.

Lot of Hollyweird celebrities have been married here--then promptly divorced back down in L.A--where aesthetics don’t mean as much, except how fine a foreign car one’s divorce attorney happens to drive.

St. Whatever is non-denominational, not catholic actually.

This is also the very same church I encountered on xmas eve, just before I had the first vision that night, which of course means it’s right up the hill from my abode, which makes it awfully difficult to show up late. Even for a lazy ass like myself.

Thing about being an extra is, I can show up half-asleep (or even a higher percentage) and it doesn’t really matter, as we’re only required to be on camera a few hours total each day, as it takes the crew that long to set up/adjust the lighting, camera positions, blocking the actual actors, etc.

Most of the time, we just sit around, waiting for orders from an AD.

Meaning I can come onto the set all tired and dragging my ass, but I can’t be late, which is never an issue because St. Whatever is only a few blocks uphill. I can wake up 30 minutes before first call at noon for a 16 hour day which usually concludes at four in the morning.

So it doesn’t matter how little sleep I get, as I can always make up for it snoozing in the pew for hours on end. We’re only required to “act” a few hours each day out of the 16, because the crew is forever it setting up/adjusting the lighting, camera positions, blocking the actors, etc.

Don’t even have to worry about dressing in the morning because I wear the same ill-fitting suit that’s waiting for me every day, provided by Wardrobe because I didn’t have one at all. Almost cost me the job, but they were desperate to fill the pew seat and because I have the “churchgoer look” according to the casting director.

Super, just the look I cultivate.

Wonder if they clean these things, ‘cause it sure doesn’t smell like it. Wardrobe probably just throw them on the rack every night (or morning) after I peel them off.

Wonder if the odor bugs any of my soon to be erstwhile fellow extras? Wouldn’t know, haven’t spoken to any of them.

I don’t talk to any of them and none of them talks to me, it’s a mutual understanding that works well for all parties involved.

Tonight’s supposed to be the last night I’ll have to inhale the stale of this outfit anyway, as the rest of the shoot on location at St. Whatever is supposed to only involve the principal cast, no background. Either close-ups, or the camera will be positioned in the pews, from the perspective of the parishioners, so we’re no longer needed.

My casting agency didn’t tell me this; because there’s always a chance something could go wrong or be delayed and then they’d want to bring me and the other extras back tomorrow.

Know all this, for despite the fact I have chosen not to engage in a lick of conversation with any of my soon-to-be-erstwhile fellow extras this past week, that hasn’t stopped any of them from gabbing away the hours all around me

One particular pair seated right in front of me consisting of two gay guys are such heavy film and gossip buffs, they seem to know as much about what’s going on here as any of the producers do.

So by osmosis, I’ve absorbed quite a bit these last few days.

According to the gossipers, all of the major Hollywood studios wined and dined Joanna Dimeter, author of Shepherd for years, each trying to secure the rights to the book. Finally, Amethyst Studios won, and had some award-winning screenwriter (forget his name) pen the script.

The director is another award-winner, Sara Marsh, renowned for the “emotional depth” of her films. This film is being hyped as a “can’t miss blockbuster,” and for Amethyst, that better be true, because they’ve had a string of stinkers which has severely damaged their rep as a major studio in Hollyweird.

And in that town, sometimes rep, or perception, means even more than money.

Yeah, that’s how depraved that industry can get.

The crew is scheduled to film at St. Whatever for two weeks or longer. The gossipers said Amethyst had to pay the church oodles and oodles of dinero to film here. This church happens to have “the perfect look” the director was looking for.

Ha--just like me. Isn’t that special?

Since it’s a hobby/quasi-profession of mine to monitor the influence christianity has on cultural trends be they political or pop, I am well acquainted with the plot of “Shepherd.”

Refused to pay for such tripe, but had no compunction with reading it for free in one of those “franchise bookstores” which encourages customers to read in the stores while slurping java, so I took full advantage of their munificent policy.

(Still do. Read at least a couple of books a month for free that way, long before they hit the library).

The plot of the novel Shepherd:

It opened, quite pretentiously enough, with god him(?)self sitting on his throne of clouds, musing if the time is right to send his "only son" back down to Earth.

Then he witnessed two events in two disparate parts of the globe that made the choice for him: In New York City, a four year old boy was thrown out a window to his death for crying too much, while in Jerusalem, a four boy was strapped down with explosives under his T-shirt and sent to a playground, killing dozens of children.

god decided then and there that christ was needed again by helpless, hapless humanity.

For christ’s encore performance in that theater-in-the-round known as terra firma, he was given the name “Billy Shepherd.” The significance of the name is that christ has been often referred to as “the good shepherd” and it also symbolizes his cultivating new disciples for this retelling of the popular myth.

Just like in the original, this Shepherd messiah was born in poverty in an urban ghetto in New York City to a virgin mother (where’d they find a virgin in NYC? Talk about fiction…) and he becomes a social worker upon reaching adulthood, turning the tables on his lifetime of bad experiences into helping others. ("He's walked in their shoes") Shepherd lived in relative poverty, humility and obscurity until he turns 30 (yet somehow managed to afford rent in Manhattan all that time).

Still restless and full of boundless energy at that age, Shepherd received word from “above” that he was to venture across America, “spreading spiritual love.”

The intent of the author, far as I could tell, was to portray christ as a purely spiritual entity, not bound to any ideology. Shepherd didn’t have a political agenda, he just wanted to…spread spiritual love Yeah, he still has the long hair and beard thing going for, but he’s traded in the tunic for a half-jumpsuit, half-karate gi outfit. Shepherd is depicted by the author Gere as being extremely good looking and drenched with charisma (maybe a wet dream of hers), which greatly aided his seeking out a new set of a dozen disciples that would spread his word.

Naturally, the ominous specter of faith was present throughout the book; Shepherd sought out a new set of a dozen disciples that believed he was the son of god based solely on his pledge that he was the son of god incarnate. For those that choose to believe him, Shepard performed a miracle to validate their faith (all with New York twists natch); bringing a dead pigeon back to life, turning tap water into spring water, etc.

For those who didn’t have faith, for those who didn't believe in Shepherd's word, they were sent away and never witnessed a miracle.

Word got out about the new messiah, and Shepherd became a media sensation, the lastest flavor o' the month, attracting a helluva lot more than 12 disciples in the process. And Shepherd, like any good Western deity, used his newfound fame to denounce technology as "dehumanizing to man’s spirit."

It wasn't long before Shepherd held huge seminars/rallies in every corner of America in which he orated passionately on the need for everyone to find love in their own hearts and to share it with everyone they encounter. Shepherd led his disciples cross-country, as they performed good deeds whenever the opportunity arose, with the mission of “changing this country, one soul at a time.”

His fame really caught fire when a local news channel that had been following him undercover filmed him performing a miracle to revive a child who had just choked to death. The media dubbed it “The Miracle on 134th Street” (named for the ghetto street on which Shepard revived the Latino youth. Latino because they're America's biggest minority now. 20 years ago, the kid would have been black).

(The book, as I recall, was highly critical of the media in general, seeming to blame the fifth estate for everything ill with the world. While I’m no fan of mainstream media and its conformist agenda, I know the root of all evil is institutional authority, in its various components; religion, military, law enforcement and government. I have yet to include the judicial system on the list, but that day may be coming. The media is merely a relatively recent tool employed by said institutional authorities.

Furthermore, I’m undecided about the corporate world as well, again it preaches conformity, but it is an extension of free-market principles, which is an extension of freethinking. However, free-market capitalism depends on perfect people in order for it to be a pure system, and people are far from perfect.).

Anyway, back to the plot … So a prominent atheist organization, composed mostly of scientists portrayed as horribly narrow minded, feel threatened by Shepherd's power, especially following the miracle.

Until Shepherd came along, atheists always had the upper hand, because there was no tangible evidence of god/christ et al. Shepherd’s appearance also answered the skepticism that had always challenged the christianity; why god and christ interacted freely with humans in ancient times, but never since, lending credibility to the argument that the bible is just folklore from the past.

The atheists recruited a young scientist fresh out of college named Jude Chariot (again, the subtlety has me wincing) to join their ranks, and used their sophisticated mind-control technology to control the youth. They programmed Jude to join Shepherd’s ranks, with the hope he could become one of Shepherd’s confidants.

Chariot is successful, eventually climbing the ladder being appointed as Shepherd’s 12th and final disciple. Of course, Shepherd knew who Jude really was and allowed the charade to unfold, because it’s all part of his heavenly dad’s master plan. Jude was supposed to learn anything incriminating about Shepard, or get proof that he was not the messiah. But Jude finds nothing and then is shown a miracle by Shepherd.

Frustrated and frightened, the atheists switched plans, programming Jude to brutally rape and strangle an old woman he was caring for as part of his charity work under Shepard. Jude waited at the murder scene, quietly reading the bible. When the cops arrived, Jude told them that Shepherd put him up to it, that killing her was all part of “god’s plan.”

Again, Shepherd was aware of all this, as he and pop wanted to “test the faith of America.” Also, he knew the old woman was just days from natural death. The irony is, her considerably brutal death is part of “god’s plan.”.

One of Shepherd’s fringe members was Maria Pilot, who still believed in Shepard and was convinced the renegade disciple, Chariot, acted on his own. Shepherd was impressed with her faith and he appointed Maria his new 12th disciple. Only problem was, Maria Pilot was the daughter of liberal U.S. Senator Laura Pilot. Senator Pilot was about as anti-religious as a US congressperson could ever be, so she was always suspicious of Shepherd, and when her daughter actually became one of Shepard’s disciples, she got hot on his trail.

(In this way Maria is author Gere's representation of Mary Magdalene. The character of Maria Pilot fulfills Magdalene's outside of societal acceptance whore role by rebelling against her mother, the literal symbol of government authority).

(See how liberal women in power and scientists/atheists are the antagonists of the plot. So much for “liberal Hollywood.”).

Anyway, with Senator Pilot intensifying the hunt for Shepard, the FBI got into the act. Shepard knew it was just a matter of time before he was captured and he didn’t want anyone else getting killed, so he agreed to surrender, here, at this church I'm standing in now.

But before he does, Shepherd told his disciples that one of them would betray him, but that he already forgave the betrayer. No one, least of all Maria, believed they would be the one to betray Shepherd. The Feds broke into the church, and Shepherd was about to surrender, but Maria freaked out and didn’t want to lose him, so she put herself in front of Shepherd as the FBI approaches and a nervous agent shot her.

Shepherd is arrested and Maria is rushed to ER. In surgery, Maria made a miraculous recovery, causing Congresswoman Pilot to denounce Shepherd as a fraud. Maria was subsequently “deprogrammed” by the best psychiatrists from Shepard’s influence. Maria even testified against Shepard during his trial—she was the one who betrayed him. After Jude was found guilty and sentenced to death, public sentiment turned against Shepard. Only his remaining disciples believed in him.

Shepard was found guilty for commanding his disciple, Jude Chariot, to kill the old woman. At his execution, years later, which Maria and her mother, Senator Pilot, attended, Shepard made one final speech where he restated his mission of love, asked god to forgive those who were killing him, and uttered some pseudo profundity like, “Though my body dies, my spirit lives on.”

Shepherd receives the lethal injection. When he’s pronounced dead, an eerie quiet fell over the room. No one can leave, the doors won’t open. Then, the impossible happened. A ghostly apparition, Shepherd’s spirit, rose from his corpse, and hovered over the gathering. He tells them that Shepherd was merely a vessel for the son of god, jesus christ reborn, and that Shepherd was innocent of the crime he was executed for.

Shepherd admonished the gathering to “look to the ones without faith” if they wanted to find those guilty of the Jude murder. The events sent Maria into remembering who Shepherd was, and she dropped dead of shock. Senator Pilot rushed to her daughter’s side, but it was too late, and all she could do was weep over her lifeless form.

But then, Maria’s spirit also rose from her fallen flesh. Maria joined hands with Shepherd (as much as it’s possible for two spirits to clasp mitts), and Shepherd announced they will be ascending into heaven.

Shepard’s last words (we can only hope) were to tell those present to spread Shepard’s message of spiritual love, because the world was still not worthy of being saved. But he added, such salvation would be possible if they all lived their lives like Maria Pilot, the 12th Disciple, the faithful sheep in the flock.

Maria said goodbye to her mother and then she and Shepherd ascended skyward. As I recall it ended with Senator Pilot investigating the atheists who set up Shepherd and bringing them to justice. Then she resigned from the Senate and devoted her life to spreading the gospel of Shepherd and telling every person she met the story of the deity and her daugher.

That’s the big metaphysical payoff of the novel; that the world still must become more “spiritually pure” in order for the masses to receive redemption. Technology and democracy should remain subordinate to the spiritual whims of a faith like the one Shepherd preaches. This is why author Marsh made the scientists and politicians like Sen Pilot the antagonists.

The book and the movie both represent a new danger to the freethinker: A liberal bias towards christianity. Whereas once the majority of liberals stood opposed to christianity and its influence on the culture, more and more now seem to sanction it, albeit with their own quasi-socialist spin on things.

We’re not good enough, Shepherd is telling us. We're not living up to somebody's standards, and a change is necessary.