Netflix, no chill

Lord’s name in vain

Perhaps like you, we’ve lately spent considerable time hunkered in our home reading and binge-watching streaming services like Netflix and Amazon Prime Video.

And I continue to notice the anything-but-subtle choice Netflix filmmakers make to continually take God’s name in vain for no legitimate reason except to just do it. This disturbing predilection has become commonplace throughout many of the Netflix feature films.

In every instance, I’ve also noted the string of “GDs” repeatedly wedged into dialogue adds absolutely nothing of value to any movie. The condemnation of God is thrown in apparently as an attempt at cultural engineering in this overwhelmingly Judeo-Christian society, as well as for a desensitizing shock effect.

Perhaps the Netflix writers, producers and directors believe many subscribers who pay for the service each month will look past their sustained slap at Christianity and the divine force that places each of us here for a brief and uncertain period.

I suspect more viewers share my thoughts and recognize the agenda of filmmakers who clearly couldn’t care less about offending a large portion of their audience for no real reason other than doing their best to normalize “GDs” in our culture.

’Nuff’s enuff.

Who am I?

Some readers likely are familiar with the late Anthony de Mello, one of India’s respected spiritual thinkers whose messages about awareness (or lack of) and other human traits apply as much today as they ever have — perhaps more.

This mystical Jesuit priest, noted psychotherapist and author became widely known for his books and popular lectures on spirituality and philosophy.

It’s been 20 years since friend John Massey of Fayetteville introduced me to de Mello’s views and advice. The common sense and honesty they contained helped shape my views today.

In one chapter de Mello ponders the complex question everyone should ask of themselves as they age: Who am I?

He then counts down a list of things we assume we are, but really are not when closely examined: “Am I my body?” Not really, he says, considering the physical self completely sheds and regrows its cells every seven years. Accordingly, am I any of my internal organs; if so, which?

“Am I my thoughts?” Not really, says de Mello, since thoughts change continuously. I am also not my beliefs, since those, too, change over time and often instantaneously.

Am I the things I accumulate around me even though those are fleeting and in continual flux? Am I my name, which can be easily altered? We can be called anything we choose.

It is a pertinent question worth pondering if we choose to believe we understand who we truly are during our brief lifetimes. Strikes me, the only common denominator that does not change is the fact we are conscious and therefore sufficiently aware to even contemplate such things.

Sale still pending

Final word on the prospective sale and closing on the defunct Dogpatch theme park acreage along Scenic Arkansas 7 south of Harrison will have to wait more than a month longer. At least that’s my understanding of events as of late April.

The covid-19 pandemic and further details involving surveys and other considerations have slowed the initial closing date at the end of March.

The good news is the potential buyer remains onboard and moving toward ironing out lingering details in the coming weeks. Stay tuned, valued readers, for what hopefully will be some positive and exciting news come June.

Millions for zip

I can’t help feeling sorry for us, the U.S. taxpayers and the residents of Harris County, Texas, who’ve spent millions of dollars to erect a temporary coronavirus hospital that now is set to close without ever serving a single patient. Chalk the loss up to an expensive overreaction to fear and frightening early models about this pandemic that proved grossly overstated.

News accounts from KPRC-2 in Houston show that this needless hospital with 250 beds (erected in less than three weeks) might have cost the county up to $60 million.

But today, under the county’s agreement with Garner Environmental Services, which designed and has helped “run” the makeshift hospital, the U.S. taxpayers will cover 75 percent of the close to $17 million bill, with the remainder paid by residents of Harris County for, well, essentially nothing.

Such waste edged into abuse when reporters discovered how many thousands were being spent on unnecessary staff. For instance, various security officers at the site received daily compensation of $2,875, $2,300 and $2,012. A finance section chief made $2,875 a day.

Then, there were two public information officers who reportedly were paid $2,012 a day since the contract stipulated that any contact with the news media, citizens of Harris County or governmental agencies was the responsibility of the county (which has plenty of public information staff).

Now go out into the world and treat everyone you meet exactly like you want them to treat you.