and never-was. She deserted her husband and kids to become a rock star. And even as she floundered, Ricki never looked back. She still plays music with her band, The Flash, in a small Tarzana, Calif., dive—checking groceries to pay the bills.
Leonard Nimoy died earlier today at the age of 83. He was, according to the obituaries I’ve seen, a man of many talents: poet, photographer, musician. But it was as an actor that most of us knew him first and best—an actor who became famous for one role. Mr. Spock of Star Trek.
“Logic!” exclaims Professor Digory Kirke. “Why don’t they teach logic at these schools?”Professor Kirke is a man after Spock’s own green heart. He’s quite old, very kind and incredibly smart, and when Peter and Susan Pevensie need help figuring out how to help their younger sister, Lucy—a girl who has suddenly been blathering about some strange, snowy world called Narnia locked behind a wardrobe door—they turn to the white-haired prof for help. How should they handle these incredible lies? Or what if Lucy doesn’t realize she’s lying? What if she’s losing her mind?After pondering the situation for a while and clearing his throat, Professor Kirke asked a deceptively simple question in return.“How do you know that your sister’s story is not true?”Peter and Susan are flabbergasted, but Professor Kirke swiftly—logically—takes them step-by-step through a process wherein it seems as though Narnia might not be so illogical after all.“There are only three possibilities,” the Professor concludes. “Either your sister is telling lies, or she is mad, or she is telling the truth. You know she doesn’t tell lies and it is obvious that she is not mad. For the moment then and unless any further evidence turns up, we must assume she is telling the truth.”In 2009’s Star Trek, a young Mr. Spock—a Spock before the whales and Wyatt and all his other adventures—contemplates a seriously pressing problem: How did a Romulan mining ship come to possess a previously unknown doomsday weapon that, just minutes before, destroyed Spock’s home planet of Vulcan? Could such a weapon be hidden? The product of an unknown alien race? Spock quickly discards hypothesis after hypotheses for one that’s merely outlandish: The Romulan craft, somehow and for some unknown reason, must’ve come from the future. And in explaining himself to the crew, the Vulcan does a remarkably cogent impression of Professor Kirke.“If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains—however improbable—must be the truth,” Spock says.
For those of you who\’ve been dutifully checking in here for the last two months, wondering when the heck I was going to get off my duff and say something new, I\’ve actually been prattling quite a bit … in a different locale. I\’m now doing most of my entertainment-related blogging over at Patheos.com for my new Watching God blog. It\’s a good forum and a fun blog to write. And if you visit there, I\’m sure my Patheos editors would appreciate it and perhaps send healthy bonuses my way.
That said, this space will not die. No siree. While Cairns Along the Way has been, admittedly, in suspended animation for the last two months (much like a character from Interstellar), I hope to expand the use of this space a bit. I\’ll republish some of my Patheos work here. If I write something that I feel might interest you on one of the other blogs to which I contribute—say, over at Plugged In or Dad Matters—I\’ll let you know about that here. I\’ll keep you up to date on any new book projects, too. And, of course, if I have a yen to talk about something that\’s not so pegged to entertainment or pop culture, this\’ll be where I\’ll post it. Cairns Along the Way has always been, in my mind, about finding the fingerprints of God along our sometimes halting walks of faith. And, of course, you don\’t need to be in a movie theater to find them.
Thanks, as always, for checking in. Look forward to walking along with you for some time to come.