DaVinci, The Grail, And Me

Last night, Q and I watched The Da Vinci Code. While it was Q’s first experience with the story, I was intimately familiar with it. Firstly, I had read the book about two years ago, and was neither impressed or disappointed. But the idea of Christ’s bloodline was something I knew about from some reading my father had done years ago.

For those of you who haven’t read the book or don’t know exactly how the story ends, I won’t spoil it other then to say, if the theory is true, I’m feeling a little ripped off. Seriously though, I believe that Jesus almost certainly did have children, and that there are likely millions of people walking around with his blood in their veins. I also believe Jesus was not the literal son of God, but rather His figurative son. Meaning that Jesus was a very special man who was very aware of the divine, and did his best to let others know what he knew. Sadly, things probably haven’t turn out as well as he would have hoped, I’m sure.

But what about those people who may carry Jesus’s blood? Well, I don’t think they are (or would be) any more or less special then anyone else. I believe that we all carry the divine within ourselves, but some of us are more aware of it then others. I know that I am special and loved by the divine, but I also know that I can’t walk on water or turn water into wine.

Grammar On The Go

Although I am far from the world’s best writer, I am a little bit of a grammar fiend. I get terribly annoyed by signs, especially highly polished advertisements, which have spelling or grammar errors. And I’m not alone; there is at least one organization that sends “no-no” letters to editors and writers when they spot an error. (If only I could remember who they are!)

I have a special place in my heart, though, for guerrilla grammarians. They are so passionate about proper grammar that they will correct signs with a black Sharpie and a few terse words. Take, for example, an ad I saw on the underground today. A debt refinancing company promised to help you “rejoin the have’s”. A cheeky guerrilla grammarian had taken his trusty maker and crossed out the offending possessive apostrophe, adding the comment “wrong” just in case someone misunderstood his defiant editing.

Aspiring To Hermithood

I am seriously thinking about never leaving the house again! It seems to me that people are getting ruder. If I want to be treated poorly or ignored, I can stay home and be abused by my cat.

I’m beginning to think that all the rudeness comes from a sense of entitlement. People cut into line, take up multiple seats on public transportation, and cut off others when getting onto escalators and elevators because they truly believe they are better and more deserving then everyone else. They may have had a bad day (or not), but they need to remember that they aren’t any better or worse then me or anyone else!

The lack of community connectedness also plays a big role, and is more obvious in situations where people don’t hold open doors or give up their seats to the elderly or pregnant women. If there were greater feelings of community, if we knew the people we saw when we were out, I think we would be much more kind.

I would like to think that I’m not rude when I’m out. Being polite and exercising (un)common courtesy is something that I think is part of the Wiccan Rede. Taking up two seats on the subway may not seem harmful to some, but to someone else it might just be the last straw that causes them to give up on “polite” society.