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I’m not to the point of writing such a lengthy and personal post such as the Substitute’s concerning the plight of contemporary Christian culture, but a small mentioning of a thing I saw this weekend cannot be helped. In fact, as my recent lack of enthusiasm for all things blog plays itself out, I might just take up writing exclusively about trivial things my wife and I find mildly amusing on satellite TV.

In this case, the amusement came at the expense of Bibleman. As best I can tell, this is a super-hero whose only reason to exist is to provide concrete, if not highly comical, evidence that a ten year culture war has taken place. Unbeknownst to him, though, he’s the main casualty.

Played in this episode by Willie Aames of Charles in Charge and Celebrity Fit Club fame (he’s since been replaced by a younger actor), the show involved Bibleman confronting his own friends (or what anyone else would consider enemies) with biblical scripture as if it were some kind of antidote to a vaguely written notion about them returning to their “old ways.”

Sound funny? Well, you obviously haven’t seen five minutes of it yet. Because it’s absolutely hilarious, and more than a little sad. Let’s not forget, there’s also Biblegirl, a Bible cave, and some over-the-top villains like…(Dunt Dunt Dunnn!) the Wacky Protester. I can only imagine his main super power—an inhuman resistance to the awesome nature of George W. Bush. Oh, the humanity.

The tackiness has its own life force, but a true appreciation for this case study of child indoctrination comes from the little details that get all mangled up in translation from their “secular” pop culture couterparts. Case in point: Even though Batman doesn’t have any real superhuman powers, his modus operandi isn’t exactly beating people over the head with endless talk of his advanced knowledge of bats, is it? Not so with Bibleman. He wears a well-cut purple foam suit for the sole purpose of biblically berating people of opposing world-views. And he does it like a broken record.

As one would expect of endless sanctimony repeated over and over, it’s not like any of it can be absorbed. As soon as he chimes in for the sixth time with, “Well, you know what Ecclesiastes 3:12-15 says about vanity, Ted?” its like all that can be heard are words. Certainly not the Word of God, as if that could seriously be what anyone intended. Actually, if you’ve made it this far in the show without converting to atheism, you should get a T-shirt or something for your time. Or you might want to examine whatever made you put such a high value on crap. But I guess it doesn’t matter if you’re swimming in the aquarium and only finding algae to eat. Any of the same kind will do.

Still, I have to wonder, though, could The Incredible Shakespearean take him?

This entry was posted on Sunday, October 9th, 2005 at 8:06 pm and is filed under culture, fishbowl. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.