I've been rewatching Firefly recently with my roommate (the excellent and prodigal Matt Austin), which is a lot of fun. Three things struck me:

1. I'm usually very critical of things, people or ideas, even the ones I like. (Always have been - my family debates a lot, my childhood friends were very cynical, etc.) This gives people the wrong impression, and I didn't realize it could be demoralizing until I started looking for it elsewhere. Attending a pseudo-Bible study on Tim Keller's The Reason for God, Dr. Coffin (my pastor) will go out of his way to correct an omission or a bad choice of words. It sounds like he, like me, is having more fun cleaning up the parts that he finds lacking than he is going over the obvious but well-done parts. It's not always easy to listen to, though. Anybody who plays Halo (that is, virtually all my male friends) knows that I like to whine about it, but heck, I'll still play it.

So it was odd that I have nary a bad thing to say about Firefly, and lots of little bits of praise. I don't have an unnatural attachment to Joss Whedon (his recent run on Astonishing X-Men is exciting but almost a betrayal, and I've never seen Buffy), but I can't help thinking that he writes some of the snappiest dialogue you'll ever hear. Why am I so thrilled? I think because everybody seems to be throwing their whole heart into the production, turning an absurd premise and an enormous ensemble cast into a manageable human drama (like Heroes, but better). I like seeing a pure expression of something.

2. I'm reevaluating the amount of time spent on various forms of entertainment. On the one hand, I have a TV series (10-20 hours) that I've already seen, but provides consistent value. On the other hand, I have a video game (30 hours) that I really should play, but doesn't excite me in any way. On the other other hand, I have a video game (50+ hours) that I really shouldn't play, but has an undeniable addictive appeal. At this point, it's hard to feel superior to TV watchers because my form of entertainment is more durable and flexible. If I'm just gonna be grinding in WOW, why not just watch TV?

3. In one early episode, disturbed wunderkind River attempts to "fix" Shepherd Book's Bible, tearing out pages that don't make sense, are filled with contradictions, etc. She admits that "Noah's Ark is a problem" because it couldn't hold 5000 species of mammals. Book's rejoinder is typical but tepid: "It isn't about making sense, it's about faith... You don't fix faith, it fixes you." Unfortunately, this is exactly how some people think about the Bible, but this position is untenable. River may be a super genius, but she isn't the first person to go all Thomas Jefferson on the Bible by attempting to excise the parts that she can't explain. But if the Bible can only be defended morally, it's worthless. (This actually came up in the Keller study recently.)

To put it more clearly: Eastern religions claim that their myths will help you lead a good life and earn eternal rewards. Monotheistic religions claim that their myths actually occurred, and they had world-changing effects. If the Bible is a morass of contradictions out of which a moral message can be generated, it's no better than Buddhism or Nostradamus. The only reason to take Christianity seriously is if the Bible accurately records Jesus' life, death and resurrection. It IS "about making sense"; fortunately, the Bible does make sense. Noah's Ark, for instance, only has to carry 5000 mammals if you take "two of every kind" to mean "two of every species" according to a taxonomy developed millennia later. River says, "It's broken. It doesn't make sense." Instead of replying "It's not about making sense," Book should have responded, "Yes, it does."