I have little motivation left to continue this blog, which is why I copy-pasted stuff from ChatGPT the last two times. Writing is less fun than it used to be. So I will be brief about the things that made me smile this week.

First of all, the lead actors for the Legend of Zelda movie were announced, and Tom Holland isn't one of them. I have nothing against Tom Holland, but I don't want to see and hear the same damn celebrities in everything. I've never heard of Bo Bragason or Benjamin Evan Ainsworth. I like that. Maybe they'll dye Benjamin's hair blond. I don't care if they don't. It's not like Link has never been a brunette before.

I joined a much bigger protest at the Capitol that evening in honor of civil rights icon John Lewis, and then I joined one for Palestine yesterday that had a piss-poor turnout because one of the organizers got confused and told people it was canceled. Just like at the last Palestine rally, a mentally ill Zionist was there wearing an Israeli flag, but this time he actually shouted disruptive things into his megaphone instead of staring at it like he didn't know what it was. Someone splashed water on him, and he went and got the police, and then he threw a fit because they wouldn't arrest the guy. "How is that not assault? If he threw a rock, would that be considered assault? What's the difference between a rock and water?" I'm not joking. Those are actual words that came out of his mouth.

The entire reason I mentioned those protests was so I could mention the jerks who got upset and didn't have a good time. I'm petty like that, and I'm not sorry. Those things made me smile this week. And so did Kush Kubes, but you know that by now.

"Weird Al" Yankovic has been my favorite music artist for over twenty years. I don't remember precisely when a friend introduced me to him, but I was hooked from the first time I heard "The Saga Begins." He's funny, he does many different genres, and people who have met him have only good things to say about him. He's never had a scandal in his 40+ year career. Last fall, I bought tickets to see him in concert for the first time on my birthday, and that was one of the things that kept me going through the past few months. Now that it's over, the things I look forward to the most are the Legend of Zelda movie and Trump's death. It was the best night of my life, or at least it's tied with a couple of times I was high for the best night of my life, and my summary will fail to do it any justice if you weren't there.

The concert opened with special musical guest Puddles Pity Party, a sad clown who mostly sang covers with humorous videos playing on the screen behind him. His opening number was "I'm Always Chasing Rainbows," and the video showed him chasing a guy in a faceless full-body rainbow costume, and then they reconciled and hugged, and he walked away with a "Kick Me" sign on his back, and the rainbow flipped him off. Another highlight was him singing "Crazy Train" with clips of infuriating stuff like slices of cake being cut in different shapes and sizes, a piece of paper being folded unevenly, and Skittles and M&Ms being mixed into the same bowl. Another highlight was him matching the "Gilligan's Island" theme to the intro of "Stairway to Heaven" against a backdrop of footage from the awful cult classic "Waterworld," with extra emphasis on Kevin Costner. By his final number, I'd had enough of Puddles Pity Party, but he was a great choice for Weird Al's opener - also weird comedy, but a totally different style, so he didn't feel redundant.

After a brief intermission, Al's band set up on the stage, and the camera followed him through the outside hallways as he sang "Tacky," his parody of Pharell Williams' "Happy." Puddles Pity Party made a cameo appearance to show that they were homeboys. Then Al came in, and everyone freaked out, and he high-fived the people in the best seats as he made his way to the stage. I'm just going to make a list of funny and cool things he did with no narrative coherence because again, this isn't an experience I can do justice with narrative coherence.

He called for a drum solo, and his drummer hit the drum one time. Everyone applauded. Later, he called for a drum solo reprise, and his drummer hit the drum twice. So stupid, so predictable, so funny.

He lowered his voice - he can have a low and sensual voice when he wants to - and said, "I'm gonna need all you dudes to chill out, because this next song is just for the ladies." Then, as you can guess if you have any culture at all, he sang "One More Minute." He got down off the stage and got right in a lady's face. Then he pulled a pair of boxers out of his pants and threw them at another lady. She can either treasure those forever or sell them on eBay and retire a millionaire.

He explained that the song he wrote for the end credits of his recent biopic made no sense out of context, but he would play it anyway. It made no sense out of context.

He said he wanted to take a request for a change, and of course everyone shouted at once. He said we couldn't have everyone shouting at once, so he'd pick one person to make a request. Everyone put their hands up. He picked Jim, his guitar player. Jim said, "How about some Doobie Brothers?" Al was like, "No, we have to play one of our songs." (Side note: "our songs?" Such humility!) But Jim just started playing "China Grove," so Al went ahead and sang it straight with no lyrical changes. Very expectations, much subverted!

In between many of the numbers, to give him time to change costumes, the screen showed clips from the Al TV interviews where he makes celebrities look stupid and other TV shows and movies that have referenced or featured him. "King of the Hill" got the biggest laughs: "Bobby, Al Yankovich blew his brains out in the late 80s when people stopped buying his records. He's not worth gettin' into trouble over."

Other songs included "Fat," "Amish Paradise," "Stop Forwarding That Crap to Me," "Skipper Dan," "Everything You Know is Wrong," "eBay," "Smells Like Nirvana," "White and Nerdy," the themes from "Captain Underpants" and "Milo Murphy's Law," and "Polkamania!" (his polka medley of hits from the decade since his last album). He sang a very long medley of songs including "Eat It," "Like a Surgeon," "It's All About the Pentiums," and "Word Crimes," and several others that I don't remember at the moment. Singing along with hundreds of other people to songs I know by heart that would elicit blank stares from the average person on the street was surreal and glorious. The kid singing along next to me was probably twelve. There is hope for the rising generation. I realized he must have had a lot of questions about the dated lyrics, like "What's a Polaroid? Who's Jamie Farr?"

Then Al was like, "That's our show for tonight," and he explained that it would be logistically unfeasible to keep going all night. People clamored for another song, and he made a big show of walking a few steps off the stage, then turning back and considering it, then being like, "I just can't!" as someone put a coat on him and helped him along like in the video for "Living With a Hernia." Finally, he and everyone in his band left the stage. Some of the audience actually left as soon as he said the show was over. What the hell? I don't even go to concerts, since I don't like most people enough to pay two hundred dollars to see them, and I knew full well that the show wasn't over. Sure enough, five minutes later, Darth Sidious got on the stage and sat at the piano. He played a funeral march and used the Force to make people cheer. Then Darth Vader, a bunch of stormtroopers, and R2-D2 got on the stage, and Al sang "The Saga Begins." Then he sang "Yoda," but with a long break in the middle where he and the others did a medley of chants from "The Hukilau Song," "Hooked on a Feeling," "Walk the Dinosaur," and other sources I didn't recognize. It was... weird.

I was too busy living in the moment to take pictures during the show, but I took some before and after to prove I was there.

Oh yes, and I got the VIP package, so I met him after the show. The Star Wars people entertained us while we waited in line. I was too awkward to speak up and ask someone to take a picture of Darth Vader choking me. He did act like he was going to choke me and then make a thumbs up instead, which was funny.

And this is my "I just met God" face, apparently. Maybe it's just because I haven't met many stars, but I've never been more starstruck in my life. It was like a middle school crush. Sadly, time did not permit me to become his best friend, but I let him know that he'd made this the best birthday of my life, and I'm sure he loved hearing that because he lives to make people happy.

This morning I went on a hike with friends. Every time I go up Logan Canyon, I think of The Legend of Zelda and fantasize that I'm in Hyrule, in a simpler time with none of the fancy things that make real life worth living, and today was no exception. This afternoon I watched Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, because there's no better way to celebrate this nation's birthday than by watching Nazis get what they deserve. The movie was great, a far better note to go out on than Crystal Skull. Just now I asked ChatGPT to write a story where Indiana Jones and Princess Zelda team up to find the Triforce. Since I started playing with AI, I haven't been able to stop, perhaps out of morbid fascination with the technology that's going to put every writer, artist, and musician in the world out of work. Behold:

​Once upon a time, in a realm where magic and adventure intertwined, Indiana Jones found himself on an extraordinary expedition. Known for his expertise in archaeology and his relentless pursuit of ancient artifacts, Dr. Jones had heard whispers of a legendary realm called Hyrule—a land said to house the mystical Triforce, a relic of immense power. Intrigued by the prospect, he set off on a journey that would merge the realms of history and fantasy.

With his trusty fedora perched atop his head and his bullwhip coiled at his side, Indiana Jones traveled deep into the recesses of Hyrule. Guided by ancient maps and cryptic clues, he navigated treacherous terrain, braving the hazards of Hyrule's dungeons and forests. His quest led him to the grand kingdom of Hyrule Castle, where he sought an audience with the wise and regal Princess Zelda.

Zelda, a princess of remarkable grace and intelligence, recognized the significance of Indiana's arrival. She knew that her beloved kingdom's fate hinged upon finding the Triforce—a sacred relic capable of granting any wish to those who possessed it. However, the Triforce's location had remained a closely guarded secret for generations, buried within the labyrinthine depths of Hyrule.

Impressed by Indiana's reputation and his shared desire to safeguard ancient artifacts, Zelda enlisted his help in the search for the Triforce. She entrusted him with the knowledge of the Temple of Time, a revered sanctuary believed to house a gateway to the Triforce's chamber. The duo embarked on a perilous journey, their fates intertwined as they ventured into the heart of darkness.

Together, Indiana and Zelda braved treacherous temples, solving intricate puzzles and battling formidable creatures. They delved into the Forest Temple, maneuvered through the treacherous Shadow Temple, and overcame the trials of the Spirit Temple. Each step brought them closer to their ultimate goal.

Throughout their travels, Indiana marveled at the world of Hyrule. He encountered enigmatic beings such as the wise sage Rauru, the mischievous forest dweller Saria, and the stoic Goron tribe. These encounters broadened his understanding of the mystical and magical, expanding his perception of what lay beyond the realm of archaeology.

As they reached the climactic moment of their adventure, Indiana and Zelda finally stood before the sacred chamber housing the Triforce. Protected by ancient guardians, the duo faced a final trial—a test of their resolve, courage, and wisdom. Indiana's knowledge of history and Zelda's spiritual insight proved invaluable as they successfully navigated the harrowing challenges.

In the end, Indiana and Zelda stood before the Triforce, a shimmering symbol of hope and power. United by their mutual respect and determination, they made a pact to use its power wisely, safeguarding it from those who sought to exploit it for their own selfish desires.

With the Triforce secured and Hyrule's future assured, Indiana bid farewell to Princess Zelda and the enchanting realm of Hyrule. The adventure had changed him, enriching his understanding of the world and reaffirming his commitment to the preservation of history.

As Indiana returned to his world, he carried with him the memories of a realm where history and myth converged, where the courage of a princess and the spirit of an adventurer had united to protect the legacy of the Triforce. And though his stories of Hyrule would be met with skepticism, Indiana knew that some tales were meant to be experienced, not just recounted.

And so, the legend of Indiana Jones and his extraordinary journey in the land of Hyrule would forever live on as a testament to the enduring power of adventure and the possibility of the fantastical.

Bonus: pictures from the hike. It was perhaps the most gorgeous trail I've ever been on, and if my friends had let me stop to take a picture of everything that deserved to be photographed, we'd still be there.

I have little to no interest in seeing most movies in the theater, but I really wanted to see The Super Mario Bros. Movie after waiting a few weeks for it to be less crowded, and not just because its financial success increases the likelihood of a The Legend of Zelda Movie down the line. And it has had a great deal of financial success even without my help. At the very beginning, far-right commentators accused it of being "woke" because Princess Peach is a strong female character and wears pants in one scene - never mind that she's been a playable character in many games and I always play as her in Super Mario 2 because I've found her jumping/hovering ability more useful than Toad's speed, Mario's well-roundedness, or Luigi's talent for running off the edges of platforms and dying - but as soon as it started to break box office records they decided that was because it's actually "anti-woke." I guess they didn't notice the scene where a character dresses in drag. Critics, who are often very out of touch with what normal people enjoy watching, have complained that the movie doesn't break new ground. I actually don't think most children's movies need to have life-altering plot twists. It's just a fun adventure with fun characters and a lot of shameless fanservice. That's all I wanted and all I thought it would be.

Now, yes, let's talk about a The Legend of Zelda movie. It needs to happen. It needs to be a little more mature, a little more complex, a little more critic-pleasing, but still retain some of the goofiness. And Link should't talk. And Zelda should be at least as woke as Peach. And those are my only requirements. So I guess I don't have much to talk about.

I saw The Super Mario Bros. Movie with a friend, and then I invited her to a free dinner put on by the Cache Valley Unitarian Universalists, and they talked about the stuff they do there and she expressed regret that she hasn't been involved with them during the past year when she had so much free time and now she's moving in a couple months. So without even trying, I had more missionary success that night than in all my years as a Mormon. The appeal of Unitarian Universalism is exactly what I didn't like about it when I was a Mormon. It's very secular in nature, doesn't tell people what to believe and doesn't talk about God or the supernatural or the afterlife much at all. This means that even an agnostic like my friend can be comfortable participating. It also means a bigger focus on environmentalism and social justice than many churches have. While many churches do a lot of good in the world, the belief that God will fix everything, in fact the belief that the world has to get worse so God can fix everything, often diverts their priorities elsewhere. I hope this life isn't all we get, but I think there's something to be said for living as if it is. That perspective makes me more eager to assuage others' suffering. It makes me a lot less patient with Republicans fighting against human rights and humanitarian aid in the name of their cruel and petty god.

For several months of moderate existential crisis I've been trying to really figure out God, even as I recognize that it's futile because billions of people have their own ideas about God and most if not all of them are wrong and I'm not likely the smartest person in the world. I think God is too big and complicated for any mortal being to really understand. Charles Darwin put it thus: "A dog might as well speculate on the mind of Newton. Let each man hope and believe what he can." I no longer believe there is one definitive "true religion," because if there is, God has done a terrible job promoting it and most people throughout history and still today have failed to find it or be attracted to it. I think religions represent people's best attempts to understand, and each of them approaches him from a certain angle and has certain insights and truths but really knows very little in the final analysis. Perhaps multiple seemingly contradictory teachings about God are all true, like the blind men's observations about the elephant, or perhaps they're all laughably wrong. I'm trying to keep an open mind. I try to take in a lot of ideas, but my current thoughts about God, which I hardly claim to be revelatory and hardly expect to be final, are mostly inferred from my own experience and my observations of this world he supposedly created.

(For now I'm going to keep using masculine pronouns for him because that's what I grew up with and what most people are used to, though for all I know he's more of a she, a they, or an it. I'm not going to capitalize them here because the frequency of that would become awkward and distracting.)

I've questioned, of course, whether God even exists or all my experiences with him have been confirmation bias and delusions. After an analysis I described a few months ago, I am fairly confident that confirmation bias and delusions can't account for all of them, and that some higher power has at times communicated things to me I couldn't know on my own, but I also feel that this higher power has recently been less than honest with me and let me down big time, so that's kind of torn my brain apart. I've wondered if God isn't really all good. Maybe he's more of a Chaotic Good or a Chaotic Neutral who isn't above lying when he feels like it. Maybe he's a capricious being who helps, hinders, or ignores people more or less at random. How could I know? If he tells me he's good, if he tells me he loves me, he could be lying. I don't know what's a more disturbing thought - that God doesn't exist, or that he isn't entirely trustworthy. It reminds me of a Legend of Zelda fanfiction I read once where the characters discovered that Hyrule's goddesses were just ordinary women who accidentally became immortal, then studied science and created the world with its eternal cycle of good vs. evil because they were bored. I loved that fanfiction and I wish I could remember what it was called because the site I got it from has hundreds.

This summer I also read The Experience of God: Being, Consciousness, Bliss by David Bentley Hart, which is available to "borrow" on archive.org. It outlines what looks to me like a pretty airtight philosophical case for God's existence, certainly one light-years beyond the paint-by-numbers anti-theism of people like Richard Dawkins and Sam Harris. Of course most of this philosophy isn't original to Hart or even remotely new, but he covers so much so well. I would hate to try to do his arguments justice by paraphrasing them in a few sentences. I'll comment on the title, though - the book is divided into those three parts, being, consciousness, and bliss, because he argues that despite their obvious theological differences, most religions really have the same concept of God as comprising the totality of those things. An Orthodox Christian, he liberally quotes from Hindu and Muslim as well as Christian thinkers. But this is, in fact, a very different concept of God than the one I was taught in the Mormon Church. I was taught that God is an embodied, exalted human being occupying a physical space on a planet somewhere with his silent, invisible wife or wives, not "just" a force that fills the universe. I think Joseph Smith made a point of rejecting all this philosophy to close the distance between people and God, to make him more relatable and accessible. Mormons would conversely argue that these "philosophies of men" led to the obfuscation of these truths and the corruption of the original Christian church. I know philosophy has its limitations, but if it's that useless, I don't know why God gave us brains in the first place.

The world doesn't look to me like the product of a divine plan where every detail is worked out with perfect foreknowledge. It looks more like the result of a science experiment with no ethical constraints. It looks more like God just set it in motion to see what it would come up with. Everything is just too complicated to fit into the little box my religion gave me to put everything in. If we humans are the purpose for which God created this planet, then I'm hard-pressed to understand why dinosaurs were here for 550 times as long as we've been, why more than two-thirds of its surface is covered with water that will kill us if we drink it, or why its sun's life-giving rays cause cancer, to name just the first three examples that pop into my head. I find it very difficult to believe that every living organism has a spirit designed by God before the world was formed. There are more microorganisms living on and inside my body than there are cells in my body. If God planned each of them individually, it makes more sense to believe that they're at the center of his plan and I'm just here to host them. The final straw for me was the incredibly hideous Demodex mites that live on humans' (and other mammals') faces and fill up with feces until they explode. I'll be nice and not include a picture that nobody asked for. I find it very, very, very difficult to believe that these creatures' existence was a conscious, premeditated detail of God's plan. I think he just didn't bother to stop them from evolving.

I'm increasingly inclined to attribute most of the circumstances of my life and others' lives to luck, good and bad, because I simply can't accept the disparities. I am so, so lucky compared to most people in the world today and most people who have ever lived. I've spent most of today sheltering from the awful cold in a decent apartment listening to Spotify Premium and playing Callahan's Crosstime Saloon while millions of people didn't even get enough to eat. I have education and hobbies and realistic career goals while countless people have never had a higher purpose in life than staying alive. Am I better than them? Am I more deserving than them? Did a capricious God arbitrarily decide to favor me over them? The only adequate theistic explanation I can think of is that God blessed me so I can bless others, but that still makes me special, chosen, entrusted with a responsibility that most people aren't. It still rubs me the wrong way. The solutions to the problems of evil and suffering that I've been taught still more or less satisfy me, but I'm growing reluctant to call God "Father" or conceptualize our relationship in those terms, because if a "real" father treated people the same way, he would go to jail. If my "real" father had withheld basic human needs from me as a "learning experience" that would "make me stronger" or whatever, or if he'd given me the silent treatment for months at a time to "test my faith" or whatever, we would call that abuse. I'm not saying God's methodology is abusive, I'm just saying I'm no longer satisfied to think of it as parenthood.

So I gravitate nowadays toward a deist vision of a God who pushed a button, set a bunch of things in motion, and sat back to see what would happen. I'm inclined to feel - even as I recognize this is a privileged view that people whose lives are living hells might not be able to share - that my existence is a miracle and a joy not because it was premeditated and inevitable, but precisely because it wasn't. And yet... and yet I know, or at least have more cause to believe than I can seriously doubt, that God has intervened in my life sometimes, in response to prayer or just because. He may well intervene more often than I notice and I wouldn't notice because I don't notice. It's my burning desire for further guidance and aid that drives me to put so much effort into knowing him despite the impossibility of the task. And I still sense in my heart what a lot of people sense in their hearts even though their religions don't teach it - that in some way I existed before I was born, and had some idea what I was getting into and why it would be worth my while. Many people's experiences have shown that they knew each other before this life and only had to find each other again to recognize it. I think God does have a plan and I think he has things under control. So I have these contradictory philosophies going on in my head. Or rather, they seem contradictory to me now but they may both be correct from a certain point of view when God's bigness and complexity are finally understood, if ever, which I doubt.