I’ve been reading a lot of the Christian protests against the movie The Davinci Code.  C.J. Doyle of the Catholic Action League said, “Frankly I’d urge every Catholic never to go to another movie involving Tom Hanks.” That’s some good smiting, C.J. Doyle!  Your incendiary assault will no doubt wreak havoc upon the Hanks financial empire!  But I wouldn’t be so quick to bring out the heavy artillery.  Christianity has survived Galileo, and it has survived Darwin--but I don’t know what would happen if people had to choose between their spiritual lives and whether they’re allowed to rent Turner and Hooch.

I’ve decided that they might all be right and the story of The DaVinci Code might be an affront against God.  On the same weekend that the movie made over $200 worldwide, Northern California experienced rain on both Saturday and Sunday--in May--preventing me from going running when I wanted to.  That’s the most tangible evidence of God’s anger that I’ve ever seen.

I didn’t want to see the movie anyway.  I read the book and thought it was agreeable trash, and then I was excited because the heroine was in her 30s and attractive and French and so I thought “They have to cast Julie Delpy!  I love Julie Delpy.” But no, they go and cast Audrey Tautou, who is in her 20s.  Hanks is 50; that volates the half-plus-seven rule, and that’s more of an affront to the cosmic state of things than whatever conspiracy plot has the Church types up in arms.

I was reading an article in the Times that refutes the idea that anyone currently living is related to Jesus because, according to the writer, anyone whose descendents survive for a millennium would be the forefather of every single person currently living on Earth.  In other words, either none of us are related to Jesus or we all are.  Huh? I didn’t get it either, but I’m just as happy not to be related to Jesus.  My Aunt once sent me an excited email revealing that her genealogical investigation of our family line indicated that we were, in fact, direct descendents of Jesus.  That’s way too much pressure.  I don’t mind being made in His image--that just means that male pattern baldness is Divine, as I’ve always postulated--but I don’t need the pressure of living up to the example of the Son of God.  After a hard weekend I’ve only spent about two days knocked out; I strongly doubt I could ever make it a hat trick.