Equal Entertainment

These days, I find myself pressed for time.  It's not necessarily because I have so many worthwhile things to do, but more because I have a lot of worthless things that I want to do, and limited time to do them.  Occasionally among this list of worthless things comes a show I want to watch.  I know that if I want to catch up on a show that I've heard good things about, it will take many hours of sitting around and watching the show.  This is time that I could spend doing more worthwhile things; working out, writing, reading, etc.  The difference between then and now is that TV is slowly becoming a worthwhile endeavor.

How often are you told that you should be watching a show?  I'm guilty of doing this occasionally.  Certain shows are extremely entertaining, like Community.  Others are historically relevant, like Band of  Brothers.  Others have very well written suspense and drama, like The Wire or Breaking Bad.  The fact of the matter is that, as TV evolves, more shows come along that hold real artistic value.  Time is drawing near when watching TV will be considered just as valuable as reading a book.

It's already here to some extent.  One of the more popular book series out there is the Twilight series.  Without getting too much into a "Twilight Sucks" rant, I think I can safely say that the novel series isn't one which is designed to teach the world grand lessons.  Rather, it's supposed to be good fun.  There's a reasonable argument to be had that watching a TV series like Planet Earth, or even Mad Men.  Mad Men is a much more culturally relevant, engaging, and smart series than Twilight is.  

So what does this all mean?  When do we actually accept TV as a legitimate way to invest your time, as opposed to a distraction which needs to be limited?  When will books and TV be considered the same, if ever?

The Final Soul Blazing

The women in my family have had a tenuous relationship with video games in the past.  My oldest sister has basically never played them, my Mom played Mario once to the rest of our delight, and my other sister Stephanie only played a scant few games.  She would play Mario and other easy to pick up/easy to put down games.  There was one long RPG that she would play; Soul Blazer.

Look at this game.  This is a game where you have to free the gosh darn Freilians, and make that jerk Deathtoll pay.  What else do you need to know?  For those of you with no sense of heroism, Soul Blazer was a Legend of Zelda knockoff where you romped through dungeons killing monsters and freeing the humans trapped inside.  Once you did all that, you'd kill a boss, and move to the next area and do the same.  It was pretty fun, if not that innovative.

Stephanie played this game...a lot.  She must have played it at least six or seven times all the way through, which is not a feat to be underestimated.  Each playthrough was at least fifteen hours of gameplay, depending on if you wanted to make sure you did everything along the way.  Each time she played the game, she named the main character (a boy) after whatever boy she currently had a crush on.  There were so many that I couldn't even remember the names of all them.  Furthermore, for as long as we were kids, she could never defeat any of the bosses.  They were kinda tough, and she'd rather the monotony of doing the regular levels rather than toil away at the bosses, so she'd ask me to do them for her.  This continued through High School, and even College.  She borrowed my Super Nintendo, and played, and at some point I'd beat a boss for her, and she'd go back to the game.  One day, though, everything changed.  I got a call from her about four years ago.

Stephanie: "Andy, I gotta tell you something."

Me: "What is it, sis?"

Stephanie: "I beat Soul Blazer...by myself!"

There are a few constants of the world I must cling to in order for my life to make sense.  God exists, he sent his son to die, and he loves me.  The earth spins a little more than 365 times for each lap around the sun it takes.  2 + 2 does not equal 5.  Stephanie can not beat Soul Blazer.  All this is known.  When Stephanie told me she beat Soul Blazer, I plum didn't believe it.  I had to see for myself.  The next trip I made to her place, I demanded to see the game.  Sure enough, she had beat the game, by herself.  Her fiance assured me that he had no part in it, but little did he know how much of a part he had.  In fact, not only did he beat all the bosses, he beat everything else, without knowing it.

The character was named after him.

I think there's something symbolic there.  After years of trying to beat the game with characters named after a hodge podge of current crushes and daydream fantasies, she finally won.  She saved the world, and it's all thanks to a hero named Bob.  If I were allowed a speech at her wedding, this would have been the tale I was told.  It would have been grand and magnificent.

Maybe it's better that I was kept silent during the reception.

And then I stopped

When I was in High School I ran a lot.  I've mentioned this in the past.  For a while it was my main source of pride and happiness.  I ran because I was good at it, and it made me feel like I was accomplishing something in my life.  By the time my Senior Year rolled around, I had realized that I wasn't happy running.  This also fueled the realization that God needed to be the source of my happiness rather than sport.  Anyways, when I entered college, it caused me to have to make a decision; do I keep running for the sake of being good at something, or stop?

When I had decided to go to College of San Mateo (the local Junior College), the coach had actually "recruited" me, if you will.  Obviously there would be no scholarships to a JC, but the coach wanted me to be a key piece on his Cross Country/Track teams for the next two years.  He assured me that if I ran to the best of my ability, it would help me nail down a scholarship to a school whenever I decided to transfer.  At this point, running wasn't just a source of pride; it could actually be a source of saved money.  There was a tangible benefit to running.

Why would I not run, then?  The reason is simple; I hated it.  I just didn't like the way I felt when I was done, and I didn't like the person I was becoming when I invested myself into running.  I knew that if I hated the person I had become when only investing pride, then I would become an absolutely despicable person when I was investing personal well-being.

What won out?  Did I put aside my fears of becoming a worse person in favor of trying to secure a better place in the world?  Or did I realize that the benefits were shaky at best, and that personal happiness was more important?  As you may have guessed, I opted for the latter.  If/When I entered a four year university, I wanted it to be because I had earned it academically.  I wanted to be a man whose academic accomplishments were worth something.

You ever had one of those times when you're procrastinating, and you justify it because "Well, I'm a strong person, and I'll get it done when the time comes?"  I did that often.  The problem was that I never actually "did it".  I just liked the idea that Andy was a superman who could always grit it out with determination and awesomeness.  Sadly, there was little awesomeness left in the well to draw from.  The time would come, and I'd just flake and blow it.

What does this have to do with running?  I knew that if I kept on running, then I would never become the man who gets it done when times were rough.  I wouldn't actually challenge myself to learn valid skills and focus in the classroom; I would be the same immature boy who relied on empty promises to myself rather than actual hard work to accomplish things.  If I was going to go anywhere, I had to learn how to work hard.  I didn't work hard when I ran; I just did what the coach told me and then ran the race.

I'm glad I made the decision I did.  I stopped running, and it forced me to learn how to study, how to meet deadlines, and how to actually do things when I said I would do them.  God used that period to reform me.  He took a man who had no idea what gave him happiness and showed him how to work for the Lord.  I learned how to show my joy in the Lord by working hard, and I became a man of my word.

Are sports and running things that are inherently bad?  Not at all.  Idolatry, though, takes many forms.  Whatever you put in front of your relationship with the lord, or whatever you draw happiness from aside from God, is an idol.  The Lord showed this to me, and helped me cut it off so that I could instead draw my pride and satisfaction from what Jesus has done.  If there's anything I've gained from running, it's that it can't really fill me up, and I'm thankful for knowing that for sure.