Our God is a lover of beauty. God THOUGHT of beauty, to begin with. I have no problem with color and style and uniqueness and symmetry and the total art form of the human body. But somehow we've gone further than that, from a balanced attempt to display the glory of who we are, to a paranoid drive to change ourselves into never-aging always-in-style homogenous perfection.
And interestingly, we rented a movie tonight that shows the endgame of that trend (have I mentioned the REDBOX as one of my new America-favorites? What a deal! Right there in the grocery store, one dollar for a movie, it pops out of a vending machine, and you return it the same way the next day). "Surrogates" is not great cinema. Mediocre writing and acting. But the concept is fascinating. An entire society of sculpted perfect robots, with the real people hiding in dark bedrooms and living virtually. Every surrogate is a beautiful person, without blemish. But our hero Bruce Willis longs for the reality of connecting as an aging, grieving, imperfect human, with his similar wife. He also of course saves the world in the process, but don't let me spoil it. After watching the movie, one feels glad that not everyone has had plastic surgery, that the world is a bit scarred, and real.
A friend wrote today that by October we won't even notice this anymore, so keep processing while it's fresh.