The Intermittent

Why Are You Still Here?

Thursday, December 15, 2005


What a well done, competently stupid book. Short version: Has Elvis returned from the grave, reincarnated as the God of Song? Short answer as expressed in the book: who cares? Because, as the book tells us, the truth is irrelevant. The truth is the province of those leading gray little lives. Mystery, faith, are what ennoble us, even if that faith is based on a lie. Especially if that faith is maybe based on a lie.

Better to believe in a lie, knowing it might be a lie, than know for sure.

I have trouble with this line of thought for any number of reasons. Both from a religious and practical standpoint; after all, this many years into the Bush presidency, I have some trouble with any argument for faith over facts. Besides, religion is about finding the majesty of God in the everyday, not ignoring the created world in favor of a godly simulcram. Um, at least, to me it is.

But it is a competent book, don't get me wrong. As Pheley notes, the characterization is well done (if loaded), the art is confident. The craftsmanship isn't bad (though not up the level of Three Fingers). It's just in the service of stupidity. But your mileage may vary, contingent on your view of the moral; readers with less religio/political baggage than I may come away with a different reaction.

Man, lots of typos in the post below. Most are fixed now. I wish I had an editor.