The Darker Side

'They can be self-made, or they can be thirty-second to three-minute clips people encoded from the news or a DVD or whatever.'

I frown. 'What's the point of that?'

'Entertainment,' Callie says. 'Voyeurism. Socializing. You have everything from skateboards crashing into the sidewalk and breaking wrists to cute just-legal somethings talking about world events while sitting around in their bikinis.'

I sigh. 'Bonnie probably knows all about this stuff.'

Callie pats my head. 'Everyone does except you, honey-love.'

Alan opens up a browser and types in a url: user-tube.com. A moment later, the screen fills with a series of neatly arranged thumbnail photos. Each thumbnail has text aligned beneath it.

'Wipeout,' I read below one.

The photo shows someone flying off a motorbike as it crashes into the ground.

Alan clicks it and a new page loads. The video clip begins to play. Sure enough, we see a motorbike hit a ramp, fly into the air, and miss its mark. The rider does a real-life Superman as the bike crunches into the ground. He lands, bounces a few times, and ends up in a tangled heap.

'Ouch,' I say, wincing.

'There's more,' Alan observes.

Whoever made the clip did us and all other viewers the service of rewinding to the moment before the crash and replaying it all in glorious slow motion. We get to hear the crunches and crashes in that long, drawn-out ohhhhhhhhhh-nooooooo druggy reverb, get to watch the hapless rider arrow through the air and bounce like a human basketball.

'Gross,' I observe.

'Modern day Roman arena,' Callie says.

'What's all that posted below the clip?' I ask.

'User comments,' Alan says. 'You create an account. That lets you upload your own clips and allows you to comment on stuff other people have posted.'

He scrolls down a little so I can read some of the witticisms. Motherfucking WIIIIIIPEOUT!

Who says a man can't fly?

Holy shit, did you see him bounce? Holy shit!

We all saw the same thing you did, you dumb fag . . .

'Highbrow,' I remark.

'It's not all mayhem,' Alan says, navigating back to the home page. 'They have categories, see?'

I read. Family Fun. Animals. Romance. I start to understand the attraction.

'So anyone can come on here, upload a video clip, and have others talk about it?'

'Yep. You get a lot of crap, but you also get some pretty creative stuff. Short movies, comedians and musicians trying to get heard, all kinds of things.'

'And sex, I'd imagine?'

'Actually, they police that pretty hard. No nudity allowed.'

'No problem with gore, though,' James observes.

'Nope.'

I glance at Alan. 'And you frequent this site?'

He shrugs. 'What can I say? It's addictive. Each clip is a snack, not a meal.'

'You can't eat just one,' Callie chirps.

'Okay,' I say. 'I understand the structure. Now show me what it has to do with us.'

Alan points to the listing of categories.

'There's a religious category. Generally, it has a few different uses. Preachers or would-be preachers giving three-minute sermons, a farrighter talking about the sins of abortion, a far-lefter talking about the sins of organized religion in general.'

He clicks on the category and a new row of thumbnail images fills the screen.

'The top ten are the ones you need to see.'

He clicks on a thumbnail. There is a black screen. White, block letters appear: The Beginning of the Opus--A Study of Truth and the Soul. The letters fade into another few seconds of blackness and then open to the mid-body shot of a man. He is seated at a simple brown wooden table. He is only visible from the shoulders down to the tabletop. The wall behind him is blank gray concrete. The light source comes from above, just enough to illuminate him and some of his surrounds. The word austere comes to mind. Snow on a treeless field. His hands are clasped in front of him, resting on the table. They are draped with a rosary. He wears a black shirt and a black jacket.

'The study of the nature of truth,' he begins, 'is the study of the nature of God.' The voice is low, but not bass, more alto. It's a pleasant voice. Calm, measured, relaxed.

'Why is this? Because the basic truth of all things is that they exist as God created them. To view the truth of something is to view it exactly as it is, unlayered by your own views, your own preconceptions, your own additions to its composition. To view the truth of something is to see it not as you want it to be, but as it is. In other words, to see it exactly as God created it to be, at the moment of its creation. Thus, when you see the truth of something, you are, in fact, allowing yourself to see a piece of the face of God.'

'Interesting. Cogent,' James murmurs.

'What, then, prevents us from perceiving this truth? We were all born with eyes to see, with ears to hear. We all have a brain to process the input of our senses. Why, then, do two men witness an automobile accident and have entirely different versions of the truth? Why, further, does a video camera recording of the same accident demonstrate both men's observations to be incorrect?

'The answer is obvious: only the video camera records without alteration. What, then, is the difference between the man and the camera?' He pauses for a moment. 'The difference is that the video camera has no filter of 'self.' It has no soul, no mind. One can then extrapolate that where errors in judgment occur, the soul and the mind are the sources of the flaw.

'But if God created all things, and He did, then we must acknowledge that He created the soul and the mind as well. God does not make mistakes. Therefore, the soul and the mind, at birth, are perfection, capable of perceiving exact and basic truth. One could argue that, at birth, no filter exists at all between the truth of the world and the self. What, then, is this 'filter'? This thing that changes man over time, that makes his recollection less reliable than a video camera?'

Fade to black again, followed by those same white block letters proclaiming, End Part One.

I turn to Alan. 'This is fascinating--but what does it have to do with us?'

'Keep watching.'

He clicks on the next thumbnail and we go through the black screen, white letters, and return to the narrator.

'The filter is sin. The catalyst is power of choice. God gave man the ability to choose between heaven and hell. To choose between everlasting glory or eternal damnation. From the moment we're dragged from the womb, we begin to make choices. The nature of our choices, over time, are what decide our fate when Death knocks.

'From the moment we choose sin, we create the filter. We pull a veil over our eyes, create a barrier between ourselves and the basic truth of things as God created them. Do you see? As we alter the basic truth of us, that truth that God created, we change, thus, our perception of all of the other truths and works of God. This is described in many places within the Bible, such as in the story of Saul.

' 'As he was traveling, it happened that he was approaching Damascus, and suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him; and he fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, 'Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?' And he said, 'Who are You, Lord?' And He said, 'I am Jesus whom you are persecuting, but get up and enter the city, and it will be told you what you must do.' The men who traveled with him stood speechless, hearing the voice but seeing no one. Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; and leading him by the hand, they brought him into Damascus. And he was three days without sight, and neither ate nor drank.

'You see? Saul could not see Jesus even though Jesus was before him. And later: