ON THE FENCE
OVER BLACK:
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
Words like deconstruction and deconversion are popular, depending on which side of the fence you’re on. But when you actually live on the fence they don’t mean much. Welcome to my world. It’s true, I’m kinda obsessed with the idea of God. But here’s the thing, my interest is self-inflicted. That doesn’t make for a cool origin story. I regret to inform you that I wasn’t exorcised by Father Lankester Merrin as a child. My back story is more like Grady Tripp’s bathrobe. There’s a story there, but it’s not very interesting. So how did I get on the fence? To answer that question we’ve gotta do a little time traveling. As Dr. Nefarious would say, “Initiate super-wavy flashback effect!”
FADE IN:
INT. CHILDHOOD BEDROOM – SOME TIME AGO
CAMERA PANS OVER comic books strewn across an unmade bed. A boy with unkempt hair sits cross-legged on the floor, his face hidden behind Batman #497.
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
As a kid, my parents never pushed religious ideals on me. I grew up in a home where asking questions was encouraged. As a result, I don’t have a faith to deconstruct. I stumbled onto the religious scene entirely by accident. Well, not entirely. There was this girl. Isn’t there always?
CUT TO:
INT. CHURCH – MORNING
CAMERA LOOKS DOWN ON a sanctuary filled with the Sunday faithful and slowly ZOOMS IN on a teenager with unkempt hair. He isn’t listening to the sermon, he’s more interested in the pretty girl sitting next to him.
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
She invited me to church around the same time I got my driver’s license. It was the big evangelical church in town. You know the one. It was like experiencing the movie Saved! firsthand. I played the role of Roland Stockard. I even had a bumper sticker on my car that read: “Dear Lord, Save Me From Your Followers.” I wasn’t a Christian, but there was something about the idea of God that intrigued me. I even went on to study theology at college.
CUT TO:
INT. COLLEGE CLASSROOM – DAY
CAMERA PULLS UP from an open textbook to the young man hunched over it. He has unkempt hair and a studious expression on his face. He looks up when the professor finishes speaking and raises his hand.
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
Like Johnny 5, I was constantly searching for more information. But my education didn’t connect the dots like I’d hoped. Instead, I graduated college with a head full of controversial and seemingly contradictory Bible verses that only generated more questions.
CUT TO:
EXT. CAMPUS QUAD – DAY
Two young men (one with unkempt hair) draw the attention of fellow students as they loudly debate.
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
I turned into the guy who blew up every religious discussion with one-off verses. One day, I tried to shut down someone with Matthew 10:34. The guy I was debating said he’d respond if I could quote the following verse. I couldn’t. I felt stupid for not knowing the surrounding context. For whatever reason, it was a pivotal moment for me.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. APARTMENT – SOMETIME LATER
The young man sits poring over a stack of books. He runs a hand through his unkempt hair. On TV a rerun of The X-Files plays on mute.
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
I got over myself, sat down across from Morpheus and took the red pill. I read every piece of atheistic literature I could dig up, then turned around and read all of the theological counterpoints. I came across a lot of interesting ideas, but nothing stuck. I remained on the fence. Believers thought I was an atheist. Atheists thought I was weird. I was a Charlie-in-the-Box exiled to the Island of Misfit Thinkers. That’s when I came up with the idea for Jettison Ink. I’d read a lot of Scripture and read even more about Scripture, but realized that if I was ever gonna have a shot at figuring it out I’d have to go all-in like Lilly Rush and treat the text like a cold case investigation.
MONTAGE of the young man working on a laptop. Empty coffee mugs and soda cans buildup around him. Finally he moves the cursor over the Post button. ZOOM IN on his finger hovering over the Enter key. He smiles and taps Enter.
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
I made my search public so people could read along and give me the Siskel and Ebert treatment. And thanks to social media, misfit thinkers and Goonies like myself discovered the blog and joined the search. As for the pop culture references, they weren’t even part of the original plan. Seriously. They evolved spontaneously as I edited the first few posts and, for better or worse, have become a trademark of sorts. They’re like one of Bob Ross’ happy accidents. And yeah, obviously I’ve watched way too much TV. But I didn’t have a Chip Douglas childhood.
CUT TO:
INT. CHILDHOOD BEDROOM – SOME TIME AGO
CAMERA PULLS IN on the boy still reading comics. This time his eyes are visible over the top of Detective Comics #664.
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
I actually grew up without a television in my house. How’s that for a twist ending? Eat your heart out, M. Night Shyamalan!
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. CHILDHOOD BEDROOM – YEARS LATER
As a teenager, the boy sits on the edge on his bed and aims a remote at a small TV.
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
I was fifteen by the time I was finally able to earn enough money to score my own TV and VCR. A month later they knew me by name at the video store. But with only Saturday morning cartoons in my background (thanks, Grandma!), I had to deep dive movies and television for years to catch up. I also studied film and communications in college and, for a while, made movies with friends and rode the film festival wave. It was a fun time, but that wave breaks fast.
The TV plays like a crystal ball, showing the boy as a young man witnessing his own name on the big-screen. ZOOM IN on the TV as it is turned off. The boy’s face comes into focus reflected on the dark screen.
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
I still made it as a writer, though: published, award-winning and broke as hell.
CUT TO BLACK.
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
And that’s my story. The edited for TV version, at least. If you wanna know more meet me at the movie theater on Saturday–look for the guy with unkempt hair–and we’ll catch a flick. My treat. Otherwise, just follow the ink on Twitter (or Facebook, if you’re my mom).