``I'm hooked on reality TV, but I find myself longing for a plot.'' Ken Mac.
Ah yes, that's definitely a draw back to the real---no fucking plot. Everybody from Moses to Nietzsche had the same gripe, where's the plot? But hell, it never kept them from making one up, Aey?
And yes I saw Angel Heart. Nice, very creepy---I especially liked its unraveling of events back through time toward the realization, that indeed, Angel lived with satan's heart. The figure of Robert di Niro in the freight elevator, descending into the darkness. But that is completely unconnected to my trip on the Crystal Cathedral. Typical Ken, really---what's this say about communicativity? But I'll look around for Terrorism in the Mind of God anyway.
I digress. Let's get back to terrorism as a transcendent means to moral rectitude in an aberrant universe of indifference.
Phillip Johnson's Crystal Cathedral is a glass trapezoid set against palm trees and parking lots in Orange county---just down the freeway from Disneyland. If there was ever an architectural icon for morality purified down to its structural essence as clerical fascism, this is it. It has absolutely no human content whatsoever. All form, all law, the face of Moloch as a multifaceted mirror of the sky.
Chuck Grimes