Psalm 62

Growing up, Psalm 62 was my favorite. We, as a family, trotted out the 23rd on every occasion, much like we will break into “Amazing Grace” at any moment–a wedding, a funeral, Dairy Queen, whathaveyou. And I like the 23rd just fine. It has, of course, a certain poetry to it.

But I liked the 62nd because it seemed to me so honest, so human: “For God alone my soul waits in silence. Something something. The Lord is my rock and my salvation. He is my fortress. I shall not be greatly moved.” I mean, yeah, sure, I’m going to move a little bit. Okay, maybe a lot. But I will not be greatly moved. To me, that said a lot about faith. Hell yes, when face with scary shit or even just when faced head-on with the divine, you are going to be moved. Hell, even Mary was sore afraid. You are probably going to shit your pants and head for the hills.

To say that you shall not be greatly moved? I don’t know. Even now, that just strikes me right in the heart. I will be afraid, but I’m only going to step back like three paces. Okay, maybe four.

I was thinking of that verse tonight as I worked on the sexy zombie story. And, even though I used to know that whole Psalm by heart, I still wanted to look it up and make sure my character was remembering it right.

And you know what? In newer versions, the Psalmist isn’t moved at all. The New International Reader’s version says, “He alone is my rock. He is the One who saves me.  He is like a fort to me. I will always be secure.” The NIV says, “Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.” The New Living Translation? “He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will never be shaken.”

And this guy? Who appears to be suffering from some terrible hair affliction?

He also is not shaken.

Bah humbug. Way to take all of the interesting humanity out of the song and turn it into, instead, just a paean to how God’s love gives you superpowers.

Feh.

Get off my lawn, you young “not shaken” whippersnappers.

Hoverers, Let’s Strike a Deal

Raise the toilet seat. And I will not hunt you down and wipe my piss-drenched ass on you.

Seriously, every time I go to the bathroom at Noshville, I end up sitting in someone’s piss. And I realize those are shitty stalls and it’s hard to line up over the toilet correctly. Shoot, that’s the reason I go down to J&J’s Market. Sure, I also pick myself up a treat. But it’s to use a toilet you don’t have to be a contortionist to sit on.

But… hoverers. You’re hovering. You’re not sitting in the first place. So why can’t you hover over the bowl with the seat up?

Did You Know the Second Episode of True Blood is On Demand Right Now?!

I have two non-spoilery thoughts.

1. I am a slow and fat middle-aged woman. If I could turn into a panther, I believe I could easily, even as a slow and fat, middle-aged panther eat my neighbors’ goats and pigs (sorry Tucker). The analogous panther to me could still hunt. So, I am just not understanding why any of the werepanthers need Jason to feed them. They can’t bring down a deer or eleven?

2. The more I think about it, the more I love Bill as king. This is one of those moments where I’m just not sure if I should hope that True Blood is as smart as I’d love it to be. But, as you recall, one of my biggest moments of inability to suspend disbelief was back in the first season when Bill told Sookie he didn’t own slaves. It just wasn’t possible. It’d be like a story in which roads existed and a person told you he traveled from Memphis to Nashville in three hours and then denied he owned a car. Then how the fuck did you get here, motherfucker? Same deal when you see a wealthy antebellum white dude standing in a mansion he owned before the Civil War, especially in which he lived with his wife and children. If he didn’t have slaves, how the fuck did he get in that house, motherfucker?

And I just didn’t know if the show was smart enough to get that Bill had to be lying, since it seemed obvious, since the only black people in town all seem to be related to Tara, that that one black family in town would have to have been descended from the people Bill owned. And how do you have a light romp of a story with that bullshit? “Oh, my best friend dates a guy who owned my ancestors.” But it has now turned out that, indeed, this show is willing to go to all kinds of fucked up places. So maybe we’ll get to that place. AND it turns out that Bill is a lying liar who lies. So, that was a nice little bit of foreshadowing about him being a liar.

So, all that is to say that of course being king would suit Bill. He’s kind of stuffy and old-fashioned and he was raised in a society that saw themselves as chivalrous. This is the job he was basically born and raised to be able to perform. And the fact that he’s surrounded by humans (his guards, the witch spy, etc.) over whom he has an incredible level of power and who are available to him however he wants? And he’s thriving? All while obviously believing he believes vampires and humans should be able to live together as some kind of equals?

Of course, of course, of course.

I don’t expect a lot of subtlety from this show, so I’m sure they’ll fuck this up eventually. But so far, I really like it.