IVP - Strangely Dim

We're Not Gonna Take It! and Other Bad Art

A theater in downstate Illinois has shut down for a few weeks, rather than be forced by the marketplace to subject its community to the best Hollywood has to offer this month: Jackass 2 and Beerfest. Read about it here.

Hey! Come back!

It's not that these movies are morally offensive, per se, that's led to the business owner's boycott. It's that they're just awful. The Chicago Tribune called one of the two films "an insult to sophomoric movies everywhere." The owner, Greg Boardman, has put a lot of money into making his theater a destination point for movie fans--cutting edge tech, roomy seats, fancy carpet. Adding a film that relies on vomit and self-flagellation for laughs is, I suppose, a bit like gilding the lilly--although only a bit.

I'm intrigued by this story because I don't often see people who make money off of mass culture proactively filter content for their customers. The only instance I can recall, in fact, is a music video that MTV restricted temporarily nearly two decades ago. I'm sure there are other cases, but I can't think of any.

I can hardly think of anything else to say, I'm so shocked by this guy's moxie. Hollywood is more Goliath than David, and the private owner of a two-screen theater in a small Illinois town is more David than Goliath, but he certainly took his shot. Maybe the rest of us can be encouraged by my new hero to expect a little more from our entertainment.

By the way, Likewisebooks.com is now up and running. Be sure to check it out.

Hey! Be sure to come back too!

Likewise Notebook Betamax

IVP Books is just about to launch the extra-special Likewise website, likewisebooks.com, which will serve as a gathering hole for Likewise authors, readers and wannabes. You're all invited, of course. And if you're even more interested, we're going to be keeping in touch with our Likewise friends by e-mail, in a fun little newsletter we like to call the Likewise Notebook.

Of course, we don't want the Likewise Notebook to be lame, because we want you to love us. So we're playing around with the feel of the thing, and we'd like your feedback: If the following arrived in your in-box, what would you do? Would you run away? Would you point and laugh? Would you point and click? In the historic words of the Spice Girls: "Tell me what you want--what you really, really want."

Inside the Likewise Notebook
*Welcome to Likewise
*Doing the Dishes
*The Grass Is Always Greener
*Name That Donkey
*Sample Likewise

Welcome to Likewise
Considering that you signed up for the Likewise Notebook, you're probably already aware that InterVarsity Press has launched a new line of books. But we're so tweaked about it that we keep showing it off, like it's a new Mini Cooper or something. For the record, Likewise gets better mileage than a Mini--which is good, because we've got a long road ahead of us.

Likewise is about the challenges of living with faith and integrity in a fast-paced, ever-changing world. Our authors are plugging along on that road, just as you are, just as we are. Keep checking in to find out what they've found out along the way, and we'll try to keep one another up to speed on what lies ahead. Sound good?

Doing the Dishes
Ann Swindell, an InterVarsity Press employee, graduate student and first-year spouse, just wrote another article for Relevant Magazine Online. Check it out here. Let us know what you thought of it; we'll pass your thoughts on to Ann.

Learn to be at peace, and thousands all around you will be saved. --Seraphim of Sarov

The Grass Is Always Greener
Some days it seems as though all the earth is paved. That's the sense we have here at Likewise Central, at least, seeing as how our backyard is becoming a dumping ground for mixed concrete. Our distribution center isn't big enough to handle all our work, and our yard is bigger than it need be, so we're taking steps to alleviate that imbalance by building a bigger warehouse. From now on we'll have to take advantage of the Westmont, Illinois, Park District for all our Likewise Bocce Ball tournaments, but at least you'll continue to get your Likewise books in a timely fashion. How lucky for you.

Name That Donkey
Likewise Books is represented iconically, you may have noticed, by the silhouette image of a man leading a donkey. Consequently, we get a fair amount of equine-related e-mail; people want to know what mules have to do with books. You can read the story behind the donkey here, but we also suggest you set aside your need to justify the image and simply enjoy yourself. We'd love to hear what you'd name the donkey if he (or she) were yours to name. E-mail us at likewise@ivpress.com.

If I am an experiment, am I the whole of it? No, I think not; I think the rest of it is part of it. I am the main part of it, but I think the rest of it has its share in the matter. --Mark Twain, Eve's Diary (Translated from the Original)

Sample Likewise
If you haven't seen it, download the Likewise Sampler at likewisebooks.com and get a first look at five forthcoming Likewise books by authors you're going to want to get to know. Also, check out recent Likewise releases by Randy White, Don Everts, Preston Jones and Rick Richardson here.

That's it! Tell your friends, and stop by and see us sometime!

I Grieve

I remember September 11, 2001. I remember how naively I began the day. I remember, having recently read the book Long Wandering Prayer, deciding to begin the habit of taking a morning walk in my new neighborhood. I remember picking up a hollowed-out walnut shell that had the natural markings of a peace sign, and I remember pocketing the walnut shell as a reminder of the tranquility of the morning. I remember deciding not to listen not to the radio on my morning commute, opting instead to listen to "Silly Love Songs" by Paul McCartney, which I had heard live recently and thought poignant. I remember the phone call from my bleary-voiced wife, who woke up to a DJ announcing that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center. I remember my coworker interrupting our prayers for the victims to announce that the tower was collapsing. I remember clenching my fists.

I remember September 12, 2001. I remember searching for a way to surface the sense of bewilderment, mixed with rage, that I was feeling but couldn't articulate. I found it in a song by Shawn Colvin, "Cry Like an Angel," the lyrics of which remains on the wall of my office: "The streets of my town are not what they were. They are haloed in anger, bitter and hurt. . . . May we all find salvation in professions that heal."

The hollowed-out peace sign remains in my office as well. May God grant us peace, despite all our efforts to the contrary.

Beer Shirts and Bumper Stickers

Once upon a time Christians wore hair shirts. Nowadays I'm considering wearing a beer shirt.

A few weeks ago a DJ answered my e-mail on the air. Yesterday I received my reward: a radio station t-shirt and bumper stickers, a CD, and a Miller Genuine Draft summer survival kit. In case you expect to be stranded on a desert island next summer, don't count on the MGD kit to help you survive: it contains no first aid materials, no food--no beer, even. It does, however, contain a bottle opener and a beer shirt. So, I suppose, if you found yourself stranded on a desert island next summer you'd be able to open a bottle and tear off a portion of your beer shirt to write a message. BYO bottle and pen.

This isn't the only shirt I've been given recently. On my vacation I answered a trivia question correctly and had thrown at me a shirt that says something to the effect of "I Heart Gambling." I'm quickly assembling an entire closet of vice; all I need for the hat trick is a shirt that shouts "Legalize It!"

I'm faced with a dilemma: what do I do with my new wardrobe? I work for a Christian company, as does my wife, and I fully expect that at least some of the people around us would be scandalized by such shirts. So to wear one or the other of them would be to invite trouble on myself. But I won them fair and square! And let's be honest: I've been known to enjoy a beer or two in my lifetime, so to wear the beer shirt at least would be somewhat authentic. (For the record, I categorically don't heart gambling.)

Ancient monks wore hair shirts to remind themselves that they were sinners, and to compel themselves to sin less. I wonder if such a shirt as this would serve a similar purpose: to remind myself (and others around me) that I'm not as cool or as purified and pious or as ascetic as I sometimes purport to be. Maybe it would compel me to live more consistently in the truth.

That, after all, is the value I see in those fish bumper stickers. I doubt that too many people are throwing themselves on the mercy of God because there's a fish crossing the road in front of them. But for me at least, the prospect of driving around with an "I Heart Jesus" bumper sticker causes me to consider just how responsible, deferential and respectful a driver I am. How we adorn ourselves, I think, has some impact on how we conduct ourselves.

Or, maybe it's just a stupid, gaudy t-shirt and I should stop thinking about it and just hand it over to the beer-based Bible study ("the Brew Crew") my friend is running. Summer's almost over, after all, and so far I've survived nicely without it.