The Sasquatch Journal

My Blue Heaven

Not to go Mitch Albom on you guys but...

So I've been a part of group studying the Book of Revelation and I've been thinking a lot about heaven lately.
Heaven in John's vision is a terrible and incredible place that I can't begin to fathom and relate to, full of impressive angels with Bowls and Seals and Trumpets of Doom.
It's interesting just because in popular culture, heaven is the soft focus, fluffy white place where we just hang out and see our loved ones after we die. Either that or it is whatever we want it to be the most. Musicians in the 80's seemed to believe, that Heaven isn't too far away (Warrant) and that it was just a place on Earth (Belinda Carlyle).

Me? I'd like to believe Heaven is like my grandmother's house. Now, of course if you've ever actually been to Macomb, Illinois, you may think its the furthest thing from the ultimate eternal paradise, and I would agree with you. But I'd also like to point out that my grandma's house is awesome.

It doesn't look like much, of course. It's a dusty little old brownish yellow thing that sits on a gentle grassy slope in the middle of nowhere. It's not one of those places you seen in movies - quaint pastoral farmhouses that dwarf nearby apple orchards, or a Gone With the Wind style Southern mansion. It's made of charmless cheap metal and was never meant to last more than 10 to 20 years. The farmland is mostly unused and the air often smells of pig and horse crap.

But all of that doesn't matter. What matters it that every time I ride over the winds and curves of the gravel road leading up to the place (interestingly called China Road), I feel serene, like the problems of the world don't exist here...or more likely, the problems just don't matter to the trees, the rocks, and the cows.

I drive up and walk in and little has changed. The carpet is still soft and fuzzy yellow that feels like yarn between my toes. I see the same oak table, comfy couch and the same loving smile from Grandma and the same clever jokes from "Pee-Paw" as I still call him even though I am 28 years old.

To me it's like this house, this piece of land was here forever and will endure forever. In contrast to my dizzy, constantly spinning life, this place remains steady.

And of course, Grandma's meals are always the best - juicy turkey, hot rolls, homemade jams, jellies, pies, and butter cookies, and she always has my favorite foods, no matter that I'm the only one who eats them. I never go hungry at Grandma's she is always more than ready to offer me a drink, more food and dessert.

This place feels more like home than anywhere in the universe.

And that's why I want heaven to be like my Grandparents house. I don't care much for the crowns, and the gold and all the splendour and rich stuff they talk about in the Bible. I want something comfortable, peaceful, where I am loved and treated like a King for no other reason than I am part of the family.

This Blog Entry is Rated "R" for Profanity...



In many ways, it's your typical office meeting in a corporate Dilbert-esque setting. Two dozen or so white collars sitting around a large circular table in a cold, uncomfortable meeting room listening as department heads initiate a "Making sure we're on the same page" meeting.

But then people start talking and the utter blandness of the situation has vanished.

"Today, we're going to talk about decapitate," says the scruffy, eyebrow-pierced 24-year-old manager Dave. With a completely serious expression, Dave begins to explain to us that our company is going to enact a specific rule for decapitated heads, and (alas!) also for decapitated heads that are pictured with headless corpses.

I'm still a rookie at this, I'm the new guy, and so I can't help but be very amused with the image before me. A dry, detached discussion of blood-curdling violence over morning coffee and bagels the same way the bank downstairs might be meeting about the interest rate's effect on small loans.

Yep, another day at my new employer: Media Data Corporation. It wasn't three weeks ago that I was complaining on this very blog about the soul-sucking monotony of being a temp at a corporate office at a bank. Well, it seems as if God himself reads my blog, because it wasn't a day after I wrote that entry that I got an interview with MDC. I got hired the next week.

My job is (and I know this will sound absurd/ridiculous to many of you) to watch movies and play video games and to record their sex, violence, and profanity content. That data is captured and analyzed and the movie or game is assigned a so-called PSV rating (check it out in more detail at www.familymediaguide.com ). As most of us know, official rating systems for movies and games aren't very detailed. Our website helps inform people (parents in particular) about the objectionable content in media. It's a very encouraging thing to be a part of.

Of course, noble intentions or not, the truth is, I have every 12-year-old boys' dream job. Thusly, since I've changed less than I'd like to admit to since age 12, I'm very happy.

The minds at MDC know exactly this, and they even seemingly designed their employment ad to appeal to all of us pre-post adolescents..."Do you love playing video games on Xbox 360, Play Station, PSP, ect? Why not get paid for what you love to do?" One of the benefits mentioned is even "Free snacks all day long."

Now the reality of the job is of course different than a school boy fantasy, it's not just a bunch of guys getting paid to sit on couches drinking Mt. Dew and eating Doritos and playing Halo 2 all day. There's quite a bit of writing involved, we're required to submit Daily Activity Reports, and you have bits of the usual corporate nonsense.

But its still like a office "Bizarro"-world. For example, on our first day we were given traditional training packets. One packet, though was strictly about profanity, and about understanding the precise uses of four-letter words such as George Carlin's infamous "Seven Words You Can Never Say on TV".

As part of our training, the aforementioned manager Dave, looked bored when he went over the three most common uses of the word "cock." "Cock has three uses - as a character slur, sexual innuendo, and slang. For example, if I said, "I have a huge cock" then what usage is it?" he said when quizzing us.

We are later drilled on the minutiae of nudity and sex and the fine difference between what is considered "passionate" and "erotic" kissing, and full-frontal and partial male nudity.

After several hours of going over the rules, I was ready for my first training video - "Pulp Fiction." Pulp Fiction is a cinemagraphic boot camp for those of my profession scanning objectionable content. After three days of scouring it, I find about 800 instances of violence, sex, or profanity. That's about 1 instance every...well, crap... I'm bad at math.

Now in week 3, I'm putting up the finishing touches on "Scary Movie", possibly one of the most wretched things ever to be committed to celluloid. Here's an example of a real discussion I had involving capturing data from the movie:

"What do I do with this retarded guy? Do I keep referring to him as retarded everytime he shows up on screen?"

"No, you wouldn't say 'Throughout this scene, a man is retarded.' He remains retarded, so we don't have to keep mentioning it."

Meanwhile, our trainer was sitting with the guy next to me helping him determine if a polar bear in the movie "Out Cold" was really licking a guys crotch.



Look guys, I know. A 12-year-old's dream job. Just don't compare me to Tom Hanks in "Big," because I could like, totally kick his ass.