They say I look like Paul Walker.

Well, that may be stretching it a bit. The ‘they’ is really only me. I think I look like Paul Walker – and I could be wrong. Probably the only thing that Paul Walker and Paul Windsor share in common are the initials of our names. He is kinda a cool dude – or, should I say, he was kinda a cool dude … because almost exactly one year ago, at just 40 years of age, Paul Walker was in a car that was going too fast and too furious. It crashed. He was killed.

The real world meets the reel world.

Paul Walker was a star of the Fast and Furious series of movies. Given this initialed likeness that we share, I’ve been known to watch the odd film from the series. Like the other night. Fast and Furious 6. Yes – you read that right … 6. As in five earlier movies. Amazing.

Of course, when in India I can watch in the full knowledge that all offensive material will have been deleted. The remote can remain remote. Sub-titles figure prominently because the F&F franchise follows the Stallonian school of smouldering looks, heavy glances – and minimal dialogue. So there is ample time to see how some words become a series of stars in the subtitles – while others get changed. But ‘Jesus Christ’ will remain Jesus Christ. Go figure.

One reviewer describes the earlier films like this: ‘a street racing movie with dull, two-dimensional characters’ … but (the fifth film) was ‘the start of something incredible and the sixth film continues to be just as awesome, fast paced, daring, action-packed and sexy.’  That sounds enticing?!

And let’s not forget the excessive speed, the excessive violence, the excessive abuse, and the excessive destruction which Hollywood habitually sheds abroad with such evangelistic fervour. After the climactic images and sounds of that speed and violence and abuse and destruction, the movie arrives at its final denouement, a brief familial scene where peace hovers – and grace resounds.

The other night the screeching cars, the fist fights, the explosions, the ‘dull two-dimensional characters’ had almost combined to secure my slumberings – but now, as the cast shut their eyes for grace, I was awake … and offended.

Still I feel the zealous jealousy for the living God rising up within me. How dare they make grateful prayer so sincere. How dare they address him as ‘Father’. How dare they allow such destructive public lives to harbour such laudable personal spirituality. How dare they baptise such a godless movie with a godly sprinkle at the end. How dare they produce yet another movie in which Christianity is fused with the very worst of American culture – so that the rest of the world can watch on, as they do, and be so misled.

It may well be content that offends no one other than me. I hope not.

nice chatting

Paul