Education for Newborns

It is with some sadness that the Christian brings a little being into the world; a little child of the devil, born into the sin of Adam.  He or she will make many or all of the same mistakes you did.  Maybe more than you did.  Maybe more often than you did.  It is not as though you do not feel the burden of responsibility, or the enthusiasm to succeed where others abscond on theirs; the reality is simply that our children are born into the human race the same way we all have been: fatally flawed in a state of spiritual death.  The idea of infant baptism is one which I find psychologically attractive though unsubstantiated in Scripture; no matter, it is enough for me that God is Judge – the soul of every child is His. Although tainted by original sin, I have no further fear of or stock in the myth of "generational curses".

My thought is not about baptism; it is enough to say that the child will grow up and find "many devices".

Without despair, in Christ we begin training the child early, but at the very beginning with the easiest, most primal of things: eating, sleeping and defecating.  These are acts Christ Himself had to learn.  The "Holy infant tender and mild" I imagine screamed just as any baby might.  In the absence of rational conversation, I doubt that Jesus would have expressed the gnawing pain of hunger any differently than John the Baptist or your very own bundle of joy incarnate.  The absence of original sin did not remove the consequences of the rest of our folly for a suffering baby Jesus. 

I know a particular child who has the particular habit of avoiding the important necessity of eating.  The pain of the sinful world, that threat of death which rises from the stomach, rouses the baby from deep slumber.  The baby's father responds quickly, his ear is trained and he is always within earshot.  He is listening for signs of life.  At the beginning, the child sucks the milk vigorously, her eyes are transfixed on her father.  At a certain point she may become uncomfortable: she has swallowed more than nutritious milk.  Her daddy straightens her and vigorously pounds on her back until the malaise lurches forth.

The feeding carries on, but soon the child's eyes leaden in weight.  She grows quiet and all-too comfortable and her limbs drape limply at her sides.  Knowing that she needs to keep drinking, father tickles the hand, nuzzles the foot and does what he can to rouse his daughter.  This prompts a short revival.

But soon the little newborn, with eyes closed and arms flailing blindly with all their poorly coordinated might is fighting daddy, pushing the bottle away.  With some consternation, he manages to keep the nipple in her mouth.  She is still wailing, but does not remember why.  A little distraction by daddy causes her to forget the crying and the link is finally severed. Suddenly she is tender and mild, draining the sustenance vigorously.

She wonders why daddy would ever do such a cruel thing and hide the milk from her. Why would he hold her arms from getting that milk she wanted all along?  I imagine that when she is old enough to eat solid food, the question will have vanished into the advent of a new perspective.

Perhaps the inexperienced father has misread the signs. I am not deterred. There's a greater lesson. It is about the death and resuscitation of children, adults and entire nations.  It must be remembered and retaught; or our newborns will give us an inevitable, untimely and terrible re-education.

Who is the Fairest of them All?

An old German fairy tale by the brothers Grimm reads "Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the Fairest of them all?" The wicked step-mother of Snow White would pose this question to her magical mirror, but one day it told her something she did not wish to hear: her step daughter had grown into a beautiful little girl. The wicked step-mother responded by ordering Snow White's death.

Artistry has a way of being our mirror...music, literature, film & games. What man has contrived in his mind has become the stuff of art for centuries; that that era is changing is an interesting subject for further study and debate, but I will assert here as uncontroversial that man's ideology, his religion, his philosophy has constantly borne itself out in the artistic expressions (or reactions) of humanity.

I ask you to consider the idea that if a piece of music or art seems terrible to you there could be a multitude of reasons, but it could be possible that it is just bad art masquerading as good art. That is to say, it is ugly, degenerate, false, evil and/or immoral, and not beautiful.

Art that has burdened itself with the ideological death of man has the same characteristic sound and appearance of despair. The profanity, immorality and outright anti-God rebellion of a great deal of modern artistry reflects this spiritual state of death and defeat.

But before we conduct a book burning (see my first post), we should pause and think a little further. Hitler called much modern art "degenerate"; he was attempting to make modern art into a racial issue. But individuals who painted dadaism or cubism were not somehow physically inferior or incapable of seeing the 'beautiful' or the proper order of the structured world.

There is always a good measure of truth in the lie. The world that Hitler wanted to create was a tunnel vision of the flesh. It could only see beauty in the outward manifestation. Hitler condemned works of art that celebrated things (acts, attitudes, lifestyles) that we should rightly condemn as truly "degenerate", but fear, racism, and the aim of social control was Hitler's agenda. I won't go ahead and presume to tell you what art is and is not good. That would be to miss the boat again.

The problem with truly "degenerate" art is that despair and the sin of the human condition is not represented by images, but by the human thoughts and attitudes that created them; that is, the sin that created them. The demonic power of degenerate art (what I would call "BAD" art) is its propensity to pass on that evil to the receiver.

I do not believe that any picture, story or sound is inherently evil. The physical aspects of smashing a hammer into a man's skull or having a homoerotic adventure are about as evil as having afternoon tea. It is human blindness and rebellion which have the potential to make even the most innocuous of activities into crimes against God.

Surprise! Aunt Maud, that gossiping old biddie at church every Sunday is every bit as bad and worse than the stripper, the drug dealer and the murderer. In this life, we have to establish the guilty act or the actus reus, as well as the guilty mind (mens rea) in order to charge someone with a crime. But before God, and before him alone, the mens rea is enough to die for. (Matt 5:28)

Where does that leave us? The question is, where does your artistry leave you? Friedrich Schiller (1759-1805) said we're all in need of different kinds of beauty. (I'll let you read On the Aesthetic Education of Man) I think he's right about that part. What does the artistry you choose to enjoy do with your heart, mind and soul? Don't simply avoid the degenerate, add the regenerate.

Is your art a mirror or a corruptor? First ask yourself if it is only you. "A crooked mind finds no good, and he who is perverted in his language falls into evil." (Prov 17:20). Sadly, we're all like this sometimes, even in the most innocent of circumstances. But if your art communicates something that explicitly motivates, encourages, implies, celebrates or otherwise leads you to do or think evil, maybe its time to throw away that Justin Bieber album. Does the art change you for the better, motivate you to do good or does it dismantle you?

When Snow White finally did wake up and make her comeback, the evil queen got a rather artistic end for her vanity. This should send a powerful message to our youth because yes, she died doing that vile act of dancing with piping hot iron shoes! So there. These days I don't think you'll die dancing, though I'm personally amazed that while doing so more don't get pregnant.

I'm not here to choose your art. I won't burn your books, movies, games or porno mags; but Jesus Christ is coming again to separate the sheep from the goats, the righteous from the filthy...and the wheat from the chaff. Don't let the page or note dictate to your heart but rather inspire it.

"Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things."
~Philippians 4:8~

The Nameless Hero of Faith

After a centurion has appealed to the Jewish elders in a bid to save the life of his "highly regarded" slave, an interesting exchange develops which defies the typical definition of greatness. It is thus a story to be grappled with, as it challenges the well-meaning heroism of the world with the heroics of faith. (Luke 7/ Matthew 8...I prefer the more detailed Luke 7 version here.)

The Jewish elders explain to Jesus, "He is worthy for You to grant this to him; for he loves our nation, and it was he who built us our synagogue." To paraphrase a little, "This guy is really worth your time, he loves the people and is really patriotic for Israel. He even constructed our local worship building!"

The centurion loves the people, he obviously has some respect or understanding for Judaism (if not outright conversion), he has worked hard in the service of others, he cares for even his slave, he has the recommendation of the people his Emperor has conquered and at this point in the text we can see that the centurion believes that Jesus has at least some power to help him.

If this fellow isn't worthy, (Jew vs Gentile theological discussion aside) then certainly no Gentile is worthy.

Jesus appears to take the bait so to speak. But I believe it is because He knew what would be written in history to follow and also because Jesus isn't one to deny those who knock, worthy or not.

What makes the case of the centurion so unique follows next, for as Jesus arrived near to the centurion's household, the centurion's friends bid him come no further saying, "Lord do not trouble Yourself further, for I am not fit for You to come under my roof; for this reason I did not even consider myself worthy to come to You..." (v.6)

As it turns out, the centurion did not think himself worthy as the Jewish elders praised him; and it was for this reason Jesus considered him worthy. The centurion acknowledged that Jesus was Lord and had the power to do the impossible; in other words, by sheer report of Jesus the centurion knew his superior commander from the rest of the world's meaningless monarchs. He had never met Jesus and yet acknowledged His authority (v.8).

Worldliness always measures heroism and righteousness by signs that it can see: patriotism, loyalty to family and kinsmen, moral acts, buildings and battles.

By contrast, the great spirituality of the Centurion was measured by his unwillingness to count himself as anyone more than a man under the hand of God; and that this God was alone worthy and able to accomplish what concerned him; even the impossible.

The Agony and the Epiphany

"As Thou didst send Me into the world, I also have sent them into the world." - John 17:18

"And the glory which Thou hast given Me I have given to them; that they may be one, just as We are one..." (v.22)

An experience a Christian should encounter at some point is a crisis in one's life when a decision means a conflict of feeling. One day there will be a drive and will to do something that both has the potential to bring great joy and repute and at the same time great suffering and infamy. It is a decision of the cross, and a decision to live like Christ.

When the tears flow from a knowing heart and you wrestle with the fear of never gripping the peace you thought you once had, you will also know then that all powers of earthly life and death cannot wrangle from you the greatest joy and hope you have ever experienced in mortal life.

You will know the awful thing that is to come and you know that your loving Father knows; but that will not stop
the agony
and the epiphany
of eternal glory

Award Winning Towel Tossing

Sometimes I hold off on watching films that the general populace regards as brilliantly done, yesterday I finally sat down and watched "Million Dollar Baby", the Clint Eastwood film about a grizzled trainer who reluctantly takes on a girl to train up as a serious boxer. Hollywood deemed fit to award best director, best actress, best supporting actress and best film academy awards to this work and I thought what the heck, it has to be half decent. Coming from Hollywood, I should have known better. What I ended up watching was a schmaltzy comedy.

***SPOILERS AHEAD***

The film culminates in a celebrated defense of euthanasia, where Clint Eastwood's character is seemingly redeemed through rebellion against the church and is martyred for the cause of his trainee Maggie's wish for a "fight out of life, much as she got into it". The result is a twisted and deluded conception about what is valuable in life, who your life belongs to and about truly fighting to win.

My issue is not primarily here with the larger question of euthanasia, I have issues myself with the difference between killing and letting die, and the gnarly question of when to pull the plug is not really my point of contention. What I will talk about certainly leads into an anti-euthanasia stance, the main point of discussion however, regards a Christian attitude about life.

In the film there were some very clear and sad misconceptions about the value of life and what it means to have a quality of life. In my mind, one short monologue pretty much sums up the entire deluded story,

"I can't be like this frankie,not after what I've done, I've seen the world, people chanted my name, hell, not my name, some damn name you gave me, they were chanting for me, I was in magazines, you think i'd ever dream that happen? I was born pounds / ounces, daddy used to tell me i'd fight to get into this world, and i'd fight my way out, that's all i wanna do frankie, i just dont want to fight you to do it,I got what i needed..."

1. Your Life Isn't Yours.

Somewhere in popular culture we derived the myth, probably from champions of metaphysical free-will, secular existentialism, and generally speaking long before then, human pride and arrogance, that we are the champions of our own destiny, that our souls are ours to barter with, that we are the masters of our own domain. The truth is, the human soul is borrowed capital. Everything we own is borrowed. Our bodies are borrowed. Everything we are as human beings is borrowed,

Ezekiel 18:4 reads, "Behold all souls are Mine; the soul of the father as well as the soul of the son is Mine. The soul who sins will die."

We have been loaned, and are responsible for, everything...including this planet, of which we are supposed to be stewards. Saying, "I don't want to live any longer" is fine, we all feel like that sometimes. Deciding to destroy yourself because you don't like the deal you have been dealt or more likely dealt yourself, is not an option. It is like a laborer complaining about his backhoe not working properly and summarily firebombing it. He's going to be fired. Literally.

Maggie fought to get into the world, certainly. But hypothetically speaking, God let her into it, and it wouldn't have happened any other way. You're here because somewhere down the line, God wants you here and cares about your existence.

2. Life Isn't About You

It's terribly disturbing and downright offensive to us human beings that as part of our subordinate position to God, that life isn't about us. In fact, contrary to the health and wealth gospel you commonly hear from televangelists, God really isn't primarily interested in your happiness. Happiness is a product of circumstance, God is interested in your joy, which is linked to an eternal satisfaction in Him, in His purity and eternal love. Jesus said "My peace I leave with you" I'm tempted to argue that we leave out the last part, "not as the world gives".

God cares about your dreams, but a great many of them that pass through the minds of the human race, He isn't interested in fulfilling. God isn't interested in your vision for a better world, or how you think you would best be of service, or what you seem to think your best talent in life is, or how perfectly situated you are to do this or that. He is interested in His plan. His is best.

Maggie's character recollects the joy of being famous, of having people "chanting my name" and being known as a great boxer. That's nice. Excel in something, great. But if the source of value in life has no derivative value in God, then it has no value at all. It is meaningless, and passes away like everything else. Nothing really changes. Solomon saw this years ago. (see Ecclesiastes).

Worse still, Maggie's despair over having once been famous resonates with the temptation of Christ from the devil. It was Satan who promised the world to Jesus if he would but worship him. Jesus refused, quoting scripture and saying "You shall worship the Lord your God, and serve Him only." Jesus had his priorities straight, he was headed for eternity, and entirely uninterested in the false glitter of a world passing away in sin. Maggie said "I've seen the world" and despaired because as a paralytic she couldn't see it anymore. Jesus saw the world and pitied it.

The truly tragic aspect of the film is that Swank and Eastwood's characters have found a true father and daughter relationship, that could have continued. Many individuals would long for companionship, even from a person unable to walk or care for themselves, and the joy and life so evident in the relationship they had with each other was thrown aside by the callous request of Maggie to throw it away. It mystifies me as to how someone could script such a film based around the value of human relationships and the need for forgiveness and reconciliation, only to suggest in the end that personal fame and power are really what determine quality of life.

3. Perseverance & Fighting is About Adapting Through Defeat and Adversity

You can hear that Kierkegaardian despair in Maggies' voice at the start of the monologue,

"I can't be like this Frankie, not after what I've done, I've seen the world, people chanted my name"

Ah, yes, the despair of not wanting to be oneself. When we see ourselves with spiritual honesty we see a dead thing, an ugly and powerless creature, paralyzed by sin, and we have a decision to make- to despair and look away, living in ignorance, or to boldly approach Christ in humility and repent. Hilary Swank's character Maggie cannot face what she has become. She cannot accept her paralyzed condition, and opts to terminate her own existence. She claims that she will fight to get out of life: yes she is fighting, but out of despair. Her fight is now against the fight itself because she has given up. Her first words are "I can't"; it is the voice of a quitter, not a champion.

Hence what is supposed to be a heroic-tragic character becomes a comical one. The idiotic contradiction of a relentless prizefighter giving up on life is the only thing that really adds anything unique to the film. It's uniqueness is truly born out of stupidity.

How many people, how many films have we rightly praised as worthy of our admiration because a hero or heroine chose to beat the odds, even after grave setbacks? Is it unchained victory that makes the hero a role model, or is it his perseverance of character?

Imagine Arnold Schwartzenegger, at the prime of his powers, winning a thousand wrestling matches with drooling preschoolers; would this be worthy of celebration? Does he possess a heroic character?

Now what about a young shepherd boy, against the advice of his entire nation, faces a huge armoured giant with nothing more than a sling? That takes character. That is, at least at the level of personal character, heroic.

A hallmark of heroic performance is by dutiful necessity facing odds that are impossible with resolute determination. Human history celebrates and remembers better the defeated who stood with courage. The 300 Spartans at Thermopylae are proof of that.

I am not fooled by Maggie's initial heroic start: a girl, discriminated against and mocked for wanted to pursue her dream. The plot is engineered to at first create sympathy and genuine heroic interest for Maggie. But in the end, she proves a mediocre character, no better than any other man or woman.

It is easy to pursue relentlessly a dream when it is in our own interest, when we have a fantasy that is all about us, when we're all about getting our own way, when the knockouts keep coming with our efforts. But what makes a heroic character is what he or she does when things DONT go his or her way. When the battle goes against you, do you surrender? When you fail a test, do you leave the course? When somebody else beats you, do you quit? When you can't do what you want anymore, do you throw in the towel? When you can't work your way out of it, can you rely on grace? When you don't succeed, do you try again?

God is constantly calling us into situations which challenge our conception of who we think we are, who we think we should be and what we think we should be doing. The Christian believer, when rightly grounded, finds his or her meaning, purpose and joy in doing the will of God. These two facts combined make the Christian an impossible enemy to conquer. Islam, for example may conquer a decadent and godless west, that I can conceive. That Islam, or any other force on earth could conquer Christ or a Christian, that I laugh at.

Conclusion

In prison or in freedom, in a hospital bed or at the gym, on his knees or standing upright, the person grounded in God always has a reason for living, and for living joyfully. The pagan may fight for heroism, the heathen religious may fight for his salvation, but the Christian fights for God for the sheer pleasure of doing so; and I'm fighting to win.

"For a righteous man falls seven times and rises again, But the wicked stumble in time of calamity." Proverbs 24:16

"...Run in such a way that you may win. And everyone who competes in the games exercises self-control in all things. They then do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. Therefore I run in such a way, as not without aim; I box in such a way as not beating the air; but I buffet my body and make it my slave, lest possibly, after I have preached to others, I myself should be disqualified." 1 Cor. 9:24-27

Coming Clean versus Copping Out

"Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you clean the outside of the cup and of the dish, but inside they are full of robbery and self indulgence! You blind Pharisee, first clean the inside of the cup and of the dish, so that the outside of it may become clean also." (Matthew 23:25-26)

1. This was Jesus Christ, speaking to the Jewish religious leaders, the Pharisees about their preoccupation with all appearances of good and righteous conduct. Through a great many added laws and moral prescriptions these leaders thought they had achieved good standing in the eyes of God. They cleaned up the outer appearance, but the inner remained filthy.

Jesus denounced their blind rule following as not only the wrong way to righteousness, but also utter hypocrisy: the Pharisees frequently performed their man-made rules at the cost of true morality. Any honest or dishonest lawyer can tell you that simply the correct application of law does not at all necessarily entail morality or justice.

The Pharisees denial of Jesus as the Messiah, or the Saviour, came from their other commitment. They had a strong commitment to a standard of righteousness which had been invented by themselves and their forefathers the rabbis. It touched their conduct, true enough, but it did not result in morality and more importantly, it did not resurrect their souls from sin.

2. "And when Pilate saw that he was accomplishing nothing but rather that a riot was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the multitude, saying, "I am innocent of this Man's blood; see to that yourselves."

Pontius Pilate washed his hands of Jesus Christ, literally, as well as figuratively. When the Jewish mob threatened to riot (John 19:12) if Jesus were not crucified, Pilate gave in. He was unwilling to stir the Emperor's wrath nor have an unruly lot on his hands, so he knowingly condemned an innocent man (Matt 27:23, John 18:38).

Pilate knew that Jesus was no ordinary man, but his denial of Christ was a decision to remain agnostic. Jesus said to Pilate, "You say correctly that I am a king. For this I have been born, and for this I have come into the world, to bear witness to the truth. Every one who is of the truth hears My voice." In response to the living example of the "Way the Truth and the Life" (John 14:6), Pilate responded, "What is truth?" (John 18:38). In Christ's wrongful execution, as well as in response to Christ's claims to be God in the flesh, Pilate attempted to cast off the decision.

But there is no such thing as agnosticism with Jesus. The words, made famous by former president George W. Bush were actually spoken by another "tyrant" first: Jesus Christ. "He who is not with Me is against Me; and he who does not gather with me, scatters." (Matt 12:30)

Pontius Pilate did not wash his hands of Jesus, he denied Jesus.

3. "...There was a woman in the city who was a sinner; and when she learned that He was reclining at table in the Pharisee's house she brought an alabaster vial of perfume, and standing behind Him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet His feet with her tears, and kept wiping them with the heair of her head, and kissing His feet, and anointing them with the perfume." (Luke 7:37-38)

This unnamed "immoral woman" from the gospel of Luke had the gall to approach Jesus in the home of a Pharisee no less. This was most certainly not kosher. A great many things could be said about how this woman behaved toward Jesus: gratitude, tenderness, humility, submission; all of these certainly. However, the end result is what I am interested in here, and that is love.

As a result, Jesus tells the woman her sins are forgiven, that she is saved and she may "go in peace" (Luke 7:48, 50).

Conclusion

The Pharisees tried to clean themselves, as did Pilate; but the sinner washed Jesus' feet in humiliating repentance. The Pharisees were condemned, and Pilate executed Christ, but the woman was saved. There is another great washing in the New Testament I have not mentioned: Christ washing the feet of His disciples (John 13:5), and at first Peter is reluctant to be considered worthy of the honour.

The lesson I draw from all these washings is that Jesus is willing to wash me; if I would but only be willing to admit that He alone can make me truly clean.

A Communique from Zombieland

Zombieland (2009) is, suffice to say, not a family film; but I was struck by its surprising moral undercurrent. In the last ten years or so, the idea of zombie hordes overrunning the planet has achieved greater cultural interest in North America. The numerous films, varying in budget, have captured the imagination of especially teenagers and twenty somethings. I can't give you any great stats to back up this claim, its just something I've been noticing over the years and I am willing to bet you have too...if you at all have any interest in the horrific idea of undead zombie hordes devouring the living; and not just in film.

In fact, some books have detailed with meticulous interest and disturbing, albeit fictional, hypothetical accuracy, tongue in cheek scenarios for survival ("Zombie Survival Guide") and worldwide catastrophe ("World War Z"). Marvel Comics has released zombie themed issues, and Jane Austen's (1775-1817) Pride and Prejudice (1813) has been parodied in Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (2009).

I'm not sure about this next claim, but it would seem to me that zombification of the entire world is being given far more careful attention, detail and marketing than the classic 'B' movies of yesteryear. Maybe you horror buffs can correct me if I'm wrong.

Zombie films I have seen have a strong moral (or rather amoral) undertone. A world overrun by zombies is a world that has totally lost its "humanity". Nobody is innocent, nothing is sacred, survival is everything. The moral dilemmas presented by wasting zombies who were formerly family members or those commonly regarded as "the innocent" of society is frequently an issue; (as well as an excuse to create some dramatic tension).

Ironically, the greatest threat to survival comes not from the zombie hordes, but from the fellow living. (SPOILERS AHEAD) George A Romero's Dawn of the Dead (1978) illustrates this by the scavenging gang of thugs which finally dismantle the relative safety and comfort of survivors holed up in a shopping mall. In Zombieland, betrayal is commonplace, though the zombies themselves pose marginal threat themselves to intelligent and sensibly cautious wanderers.

Concurrently, both films contain radical critiques of the stupidity and emptiness of material culture. Woody Harrelson's character craves a Twinkie snack cake but in a world of endless material goods he is willing to smash anything to curb his frustrations. In "Dawn of the Dead" the zombies putter stupidly around the mall doing as they had done as the living. What results is a thinly veiled but powerful critique of consumerism. In a world of survival, the stuff of great worth is utterly devalued and rendered comically meaningless.

The zombie phenomenon is worth great cultural examination: it is a symbol of the current 20th-21st century post-modern wasteland in which we live. It is the nihilism after the great failure of secular existentialism to re-value all values. It's cynicism is the bitter but sober and truthful disbelief of the humanist hucksters who would sell us false bases for our, or nature's supposed intrinsic worth.

The zombie wasteland takes no prisoners. There is no rank, no wealth, no great hero, but simply a tragic-comical waste of human life and existence combined with wanton bloodshed. The shotgun and chainsaw become the weapons of a generation frustrated, bored and only too eager to take up arms to a worthy cause- so long as it is not classified as murder (killing the living).

But zombie films are also about re-discovery - and redemption. In "Zombieland", "28 Days Later" (2002) and "Dawn of the Dead" we see people banding together. In a world that no longer has the blind optimism of modernism, but has seen the ugliness of blind postmodernism, human relationships and the spiritual moral law seem to pop up with new strength. One can bury the dead, but one can't bury what isn't dead. What isn't dead is the human spirit, absolute moral law and the drive to selfless deeds. Where "Columbus" in Zombieland formerly had a personal survival law to "Don't be a hero" he realizes that to save the emo-hot chick and forsake his "World of Warcraft" dominated life, he must adapt and overcome, he must "Be a hero". Where formerly the party knew only cutthroat cold indifference, they learned to band together as family.

No zombie film I know ends with a perfect fairy tale ending, there is one bloody awful mess left in the wake of the metaphorical "disaster" (postmodern death, nuclear annihilation, new world order etc.). This is an ugly world. It is bloody, it is sexually perverse and violating, it is horrific, and full of demonic threats.

The hard but necessary realization? We have done it. The good news? Not even the age of "non-supernatural" zombies (zombies resulting from viruses or some even more ridiculous nonsense than the occult explanation) can eradicate the supernatural order underlying all things.

The message is, don't let yourself be found as the walking dead; in the words made famous by one zombie smasher, "Hail to the King baby."