Life Continues

Life still isn't easy, but I've had a few cathartic moments this week, which have helped.

As far as what's happening goes, I have a doctor's appointment for Tuesday.  I don't plan on accepting medication this soon, but I do want to see what my options are and see what meds I might take if it comes to that.

Also, and this is important, I plan on visiting the Temple tomorrow.  Hopefully that will make the path I should take more obvious.

Opposing Advice

After my post on Monday, I've heard from some people offering support for what I'm going through.  The two people that have been the most vocal have been my mother and my estranged wife, both offering advice from an experienced perspective and each taking a different stance.

My mom encouraged me to talk to my doctor and to see if I can get help.  She also pointed out that our family has a history of anxiety and depression, so I am predisposed to this condition.  She reminded me that if I am suffering from depression due to a chemical imbalance that getting treatment is a much better solution than seeking out destructive behavior as a means to "self-medicate."

Allison gave me a pep talk and told me to remember that the problems I face and the sadness I feel are all in my mind.  She told me to look to a power greater than myself to find strength (it reminded me a lot of Alma 37:47) and that while the path of medication is easier, it's not better.  She's concerned that if I start taking anti-depressants, that I won't be able to function unmedicated.  She admonished me to take things slow and to be careful about jumping into treatment.

Again, both of these women have struggled with depression in their own way and they are talking to me from a place of experience.  Also, they know me better than probably any other people on the face of the earth, so it's not just generalized advice.  And yet, they each are taking diametrically opposed positions on the subject.

For now, I'm kind of listening to both of them. I have scheduled a doctor's appointment for next week, but I want to talk to him about options before I run and go fill a prescription.  I appreciate the fact that I may be able to correct the potential chemical imbalance in my brain on my own, but I may also need some help.  For now, I need to gather information and ponder the matter prayerfully.

Black Days

Do you remember how I became depressed while I was unemployed?  And how I pulled myself together and almost immediately found a job?  Perhaps I didn't really get over things as well as I thought.

I think I might have depression.

I was house-sitting for the Larsen's this weekend while they went out of town.  While I was there, I quickly fell back into my old depressed habits: I ate like crap, I couldn't make myself leave the house for anything (even Church), I had trouble both falling asleep and waking up, and I only showered right before I left to come home.  I knew that this was terrible behavior, but I couldn't force myself to change anything.

It's a troubling thing to realize that you may not be able to control yourself.  I'm not really sure what to do.  I'll schedule an appointment with my doctor this week to talk about what may going on with me and I'll meet with my Bishop when he's next available, but beyond that, I don't know.  Most of today I've felt a very strong, non-specific sadness, like I'm on the verge of crying, but not about anything in particular - I also wonder how long I've been experiencing this feeling but didn't realize it.

I don't want to worry anyone - I am not a danger to myself or others - I just want to inform you of something that I'm still struggling to understand myself.  And, for the foreseeable future, the feature Tuesdays with Media will be on hiatus. I don't want to waste any mental energy on something so trivial.

Roommates Say the Darnedest Things

I came in from a run yesterday and Samuel, attempting to be friendly, asked me a question:

"You go for walkies?"

Perhaps we need to have a talk about idioms.

Invaders!

Do you remember how I had to regularly deal with water bugs when living in Oklahoma?  I never posted about it but it was a constant struggle because my landlady didn't think it was a big deal (even though having innocuous insects attracted scorpions on four separate occasions).  Thankfully, I haven't seen a single water bug since leaving the Sooner State.  Now I get to deal with stink bugs.

The thing about stink bugs is that they are clumsy, which is nice because it means that they announce themselves when they're nearby.  As long as I can kill them quickly, they don't have a chance to emit their stink - according to the Wikipedia page linked to earlier, the "stink" smells like coriander, which doesn't sound too bad to me.

Even if stink bugs to start showing up more and more, I still prefer them to water bugs or houseflies.  At least for now.

Tuesdays with Media: Forsythia

We've had a couple of downers for songs so far, so let's have one that's happier?  I think?

Since I listen to a lot of Beck, I'm used to nonsensical lyrics but I have pretty much no clue what Veruca Salt's songs are about most of the time, though sometimes I guess it's pretty clearer.  I think a lot of their songs are pretty fun, but I have to ignore the words because they can be a bit maddening.  "Forsythia" is a perfect example of that: "Spider monkey, a spider monkey is a good lie / But I don't know why"  Whaaa ... ?  While "Forsythia," off of the band's first album, American Thighs, was never released as a single, it's got a nice beat and a fun melody.  If the lyrics made any sense it would be a pretty great song, but as it is, it's only okay.

And if I'm being totally honest, Veruca Salt isn't a very good band.  Weird lyrics aside, they're just another mid-90s alternative rock band that owe much of their success to Nirvana paving the way for them.  That's not to say that they're completely untalented, just don't expect a lot of variety out of them.  That said, I still enjoy some of the band's better songs and it is nice to have a rock band that's 50% female (seriously, it's like them, Heart, and the White Stripes - I didn't count the Donnas since their 100% female).

So if you're craving some music that reeks of the 90s, you could certainly do worse than Veruca Salt.

American Thighs is distributed by Minty Fresh Records.

Polite to a Fault

Samuel is a nice guy, but that sometimes gets in the way.  He can be too polite, which can be to his detriment.

One example of this happened last week when he did not remind the ward leaders that he needed another food order from the Bishop's Storehouse.  I had noticed that his share of the fridge was looking bare and asked if he had placed another order.  He said that he hadn't and that no one had contacted him about it.  Rather than correct him and tell him to remind them, I simply talked to the Relief Society President and asked if she could check on Samuel.  While she was visiting to complete the order form, she instructed him to remind her when he was due for another trip to the Storehouse.

I think Samuel's lack of speaking up stems from his culture's emphasis on respect.  There have been several times when I've heard Samuel shouting on the phone in one of the three African languages he speaks.  He explained about the most recent occurrence to me and that his younger brother was not showing him proper respect, so he raised his voice.  Apparently, in Samuel's tribe, showing respect has an element of submissiveness and he was displaying his authority by shouting.  I tried to explain to him that in the US, we want respect too, but meekness is not a part of that.

Having an overly polite roommate does make some parts of life easier, but I do worry that when he starts working, he won't be assertive enough.  Hopefully, as he interacts with other people, he'll see the right balance of politeness and assertiveness that will command the right kind of respect.

Sowing

On Tuesday morning, while I was saying my morning prayers, I felt prompted to ask to be guided to opportunities wherein I could be more fully invested in the gospel.  I wasn't sure what that meant, but I asked anyway.  I went to work and mostly forgot about the prayer.

That evening, near the end of my workout, I got a call from the full-time missionaries in the ward.  They were looking for someone to teach a lesson with them.  I immediately remembered the prayer from that morning and was ready to accept, but there wasn't time for me to get cleaned up for the appointment.  I told them as much, but they said they could push the time back thirty minutes.  I told them I would hurry and got the address from them.

We met with a single man about my age named Jason, who had been at church for the first time on Sunday.  Our lesson was about introducing the Book of Mormon to him, a subject I am very comfortable with.  Perhaps a bit too comfortable as I ended up talking more than the Elders, though they promised me afterwards that they prefer it that way.  Jason's attention was captured by the testimonies of the Three and Eight Witnesses and was ready to proclaim the book as truth, but I cautioned him to take time and build on that until he had his own testimony, too.  That seemed to surprise him, that we weren't content with him accepting the gospel on the words of another.  He promised to do some reading and we left with a prayer.

While I certainly accept that this teaching opportunity was an answer to my prayer, I think it makes more sense to approach it from the other end.  The Lord knew that I should go out with the Elders that night, so He inspired me to pray for such a chance; that way when I got the call, I was ready to accept the invitation rather than simply say I was too sweaty to go.  It was great to go teaching with the missionaries again I hope that my words had an impact on Jason.

Full Moon

Dave rubbed his eyes as he leaned back in his office chair.  These long office hours were taking their toll on him.  He looked at the time readout on his laptop: 7:39 PM.  He really had to get out of here.  Lunch was a long time ago and by now he was running on nothing but Diet Coke and breath mints.  He scrolled through the spreadsheet he was looking at to see if he could call it a day.  After a few minutes, he decided that he could probably finish everything by his deadline on Friday.  His mind made up, Dave packed up and wearily walked to the elevator.

I can hardly think straight, Dave thought as he pushed the elevator button and waited for it to come up to his floor.  Maybe I should get take out or drive-thru or something.  I shouldn’t have stayed so late.

The elevator doors opened with a friendly ding.  Dave stepped heavily into the empty elevator.  As he leaned against the mirrored wall, he looked back at his own tired face when his eyes suddenly opened wide.  What’s the date?! he thought as he fumbled in his pants’ pocket for his phone.  As it lit up, he quickly slid over to the calendar.  It was May 14^th.  How could he have forgotten the date?!  His life had been ruled by the calendar for the last several years.  He looked at the clock on his phone: 7:55 PM.  There might still be time.  If traffic wasn’t an issue, he could make it home in time and prevent innocent people from getting hurt.

He futilely pushed the lobby button on the elevator again.  In stark contrast from how he moved mere moments ago, Dave was now having trouble stay still.  By the time the elevator finally reached the lobby, he was hopping anxiously.  When the doors opened, Dave bolted for the parking garage.

I can still make it, he kept repeating to himself as he climbed into the driver’s seat of his car.  I can still make it.  I can still make it.  Any passerby would have thought that Dave was a madman the way he barreled around corners to the exit, but, of course, there was no one left in the building at this hour.

As he made it on to the street, Dave glanced at his car's clock: 8:03 PM.  He could feel it starting inside him, changing him.  The hunger was upon him.  Not now, he thought as he drove as fast as he dared down the street.  It’s not supposed to start until I’m safe at home!

As he drove, his sense of smell started to enhance.  He was aware of every hair on his body as they stood up in attention.  He craved blood and violent exchanges and unless he got home in time he knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold back the beast that he would be.

Dave tried to keep himself calm, repeating aloud a mantra that had helped a little in the past: “You are in control.  You are in control.”  Even as he said it, he wondered how true it would be this time.  The last time he hadn’t made it home, how many people had been hurt?  Half a dozen?  More?  He didn’t even know.  Once he turned into the beast, everything was a blur.  He would wake up in a stupor and stumble home, not sure of what had really happened the night before.  If he could just get home in time, no one else had to get hurt, just him.

Dave was on his home street now with only a few buildings to go before he was at his apartment.  He looked at his watch: 8:11 PM, one minute left!  He parked quickly and ran towards the door.  One of his neighbors was getting her mail and said hello, but Dave was too far gone to notice or care.  He fumbled for his key as the pain of the transformation started.  “I’m too close,” Dave said.  “No.  No-ooooo!” his last word turning into a twisted howl.  Even as the beast was taking hold of him, he managed to finally get the door open and stumbled inside.  He slammed the door closed behind him and locked it.  He could still make it this time!  He could still protect innocent people from being harmed by his other “self.”

He ran to the bedroom, stripping his clothes off as he went.  He was naked when he reached the walk-in closet where his restraints were kept.  With the door closed, Dave was physically shaking from the pain.  The beast was almost here!  He lit a candle and quickly tied himself off, feeling for the first time that he actually might make it.  Using every last ounce of energy he had, Dave held the spoon over the candle’s flame.  He was shaking so bad that he had to use he could hardly hold the syringe steady as he sucked up the brown fluid.  Finally, with his willpower drained, he inserted the needle into the now exposed vein on his leg and pressed down on the plunger of the syringe.  The inner beast would soon be satisfied and Dave would have control again for another three or four days.  As he slipped into unconsciousness, he felt more than heard an almost imperceptible whisper from inside himself:

You’re not in control … I am …

Tuesdays with Media: Dumbo

You had to know this one was coming, right?

Dumbo, released in 1941, was the fourth feature-length animated feature from Walt Disney.  Apparently, it was made on the cheap to make up for the financial bomb that was Fantasia; it's just over an hour long, which was short even back then, and the animation style is less detailed than previous films by the studio.  Even if the movie was meant to be filler, it did well-enough at the box office to keep the studio going (Dumbo was only the second film by Disney that actually made money).

The story is about a baby circus elephant with huge ears which cause him to be the source of ridicule, but later on grant him the ability to fly (the idea that something embarrassing is a secret power is an idea that Hollywood really went nuts with in the 80s and 90s).  The movie stood out for being fun, having good music, and a unique dream sequence shown in the video above.  Years later, a scene with crows (the leader of which is named "Jim" in the script) stands out as portraying negative racial stereotypes, though I think most people recognize it as a product of its time (the film is still highly-regarded to this day).

I loved this movie as a kid.  There's one scene, where Dumbo visits his mother where she's chained up (she was protecting Dumbo from an aggressive visitor) and she can only barely reach out with her trunk and cradle her baby for a single, heartfelt song.  I watched this movie a lot as a kid and this scene always made me bawl my eyes out.  Even now, just thinking about that scene makes me a bit misty-eyed.  This single scene is a great testament of what can be done with visual story-telling, as the song merely backs up what we're watching.

And since I loved this, of course I loved the super cheesy live-action show that was on the Disney Channel in the 80s, Dumbo's Circus.  Even as a kid, I could tell how many of the special effects were pulled off (even I didn't know what a "blue screen" was, I could see when one was being used), but that didn't mean I didn't love it (although, I did wonder where Timothy Q. Mouse was).

Even though I haven't watched this movie in years, I remember it fondly.  This film helped to teach me at an early age that experiencing sadness isn't a horrible thing, especially in our stories.  Yes, it has a happy ending, but one that it earned by having our characters suffer, and we, the audience, feel everything they do. Basically, it's just good story telling.  If you can stand a few tears, along with grins, give this one another go.

Dumbo is distributed by Walt Disney Pictures.

Getting Perspective

Having a new job is stressful.  There have been a few days when I come home when I am not in the best of moods.  Samuel, being a friendly person, will often ask how my day was.  I try to be honest without focusing on complaints.  I might say something like "I've had better," and leave it at that (though there have been several "pretty good" days, too).  I'll then ask how his day was and almost always get a "good" as the reply, sometimes with further elaboration.

Lately, however, I've been more careful about what I say.  Nigeria has suffered great tragedy recently in the form of terrorist attacks that have killed hundreds.  If that wasn't bad enough, over 200 young girls have been kidnapped, likely to be sold into forced prostitution.  Samuel has lost sleep over worrying about these events.  He hasn't lost any family in all of this, but it still hits close to home.

Now, think about having that person as a roommate and try to complain about having to work hard at a job so that you can earn a ridiculous amount of money.  Mind you, Samuel never said that I have it too good to complain: he's far too polite.  Instead, I just feel like a heel for complaining about minor trials when his homeland is under attack.

This experience is a good reminder to me of how good I have it and how I should appreciate every stressful day that I experience because no matter how bad I have it, I have a clear picture of how it could be worse.

Words to Retire

Are there any words or phrases that you hear or read and just wish they would go away?  Maybe they're overused, maybe they don't really work for you, or maybe you're just tired of them.  I have some that I'll share.  If there are some that you want to add, please, share them in the comments.

Awesome.  Wow is this word overused.  I'm fine that people get excited about stuff, but the frequency with which this word is used feels like hyperbole that got out of control.  Awesome can still be used, but lets pare it down a bit and mix in some "greats" and "cools."

Homophobic.  This is a stupid word.  I'm fine that gay people want a word to represent "negative attitudes and feelings toward homosexuality," like the word racist refers to people with similar attitudes and feelings towards people of another race, but "phobia" means "fear," not "hatred."  Why not "homosexist?"  That's much more clear in its meaning and it's just as easy to say since it has the same number of syllables.

It is what it is.  Why are you talking?  What have you conveyed?  No information, no emotion, nothing was expressed with this.  Kindly shut your noise hole.

Misuse of literally and ironic.  Most people misuse the former in a hyperbolic way, but I honestly don't know if schools are teaching people how to use ironic.  Rarely does a week go by that I don't hear someone say "ironic" when they really mean "appropriate," which makes my English degree feel itchy.

Binge-watch.  This refers to watching several episodes from a TV show in one sitting, maybe even going through an entire season in one go.  But we already have a much less offensive word for this: marathoning.  With whole seasons of TV shows released on DVD or online, networks having marathons of TV shows have gone the way of the Dodo, but I remember as a kid trying to stay up late to catch episodes of The Twilight Zone or The Rocky & Bullwinkle Show because when else would I be able to watch those shows for hours on end?  I appreciate that the new word has an air of self-loathing to it ("I know I shouldn't sit here for six hours watching Seinfeld, but I am already in my sweatpants"), but the word "binge" is too emotionally-charged for me.

Millennial.  I've already shared my thoughts on why I don't like this term, but I also don't think it applies to me.  I think I'm too old to be part of that crowd.  I'm in my thirties and most of the time "millennial" is applied to people in their early to mid-twenties.  Isaac is a millennial, but I'm a generation Y-er.

Those are some words and a phrase that I would happily see removed, repurposed, or at least have their usage reduced.  What words would you add?

An Explanation of Celebrity Appeal

Upon further reflection, my teleplay from Friday was pretty mean.  While I do think the ending is funny, I don't know if it was worth making fun of people I don't know.  I know that I'm not alone in my distaste for celebrities, but that doesn't give me the right to ridicule people simply for being famous.  I think my opinion stems from how I see so many people obsessed with celebrities and I never understood why.

Until now.  Watch this video:

In the video above, actress Emma Stone joins talk show host Jimmy Fallon for a "Lip Sync Battle."  I think I've seen Miss Stone in two or three movies and I've never thought about her outside of those times.  But here, she loses herself in a silly game and looks like she's have a blast making a fool of herself.

And that's what draws people to celebrities, especially performers.  They have a certain kind of self-confidence where they can do ridiculous things and not care (or at least, not appear not to care) what anyone thinks.  We all have a an inner-censor, stopping us from making fools of ourselves.  Performers train themselves to ignore that censor so that they can do their work.  From the outside, we see them as bold, confident, and fun people.  Many people envy that.  Some go so far as follow the personal lives of famous people in tabloids and gossip magazines.

I am not saying that I want to join in the celebrity-worshiping or even that I condone it, because I don't.  But, for the first time, I understand the appeal.

(And even though he won't ever read it, I apologize to Tom Cruise for callously making light of his religious beliefs.)

Tuesdays with Media: The Rho Agenda Trilogy

Back in Christmas 2012, my parents gave me a Kindle Fire HD.  As tablet computers are becoming more and more ubiquitous, it's a great tool to have.  When I moved to Maryland, I left behind most of my belongings, including a physical copy of my scriptures since I have a digital copy on my tablet.  One of the cool things about having a tablet computer that's main job is as an ebook reader is that I have access to a lot of books, and Amazon even offers some books temporarily for free.  So when my mom pointed out that there was a book written by an author with the same name as her late father, I decided to check it out.

Second Ship, the first book in the trilogy, follows three New Mexico high school students, Heather McFarland and twins Jennifer and Mark Smythe, through their adventures of finding a spaceship.  There are two alien spaceships in the story, both of which crash landed on Earth back in 1947, though only one ship was recovered by the US government.  The second ship was found by our trio of heroes, hence the title.  The later books, Immune and Wormhole, both build on what came before very well.  I will say that Second Ship is probably my favorite, but you don't find out the true origins of the spaceships until the final book, though clues are dropped along the way.

I really like author Richard Phillips' style for these novels.  Each chapter is short, usually between three and ten pages, and uses a different character's perspective.  So one chapter will be from Mark's point of view, only to have the next be from Heather's, Jennifer's, or some side character's.  By constantly shifting the perspective, it keeps the narrative interesting - which can be challenging for science fiction as there will have to be times when the characters explain some scientific point or fictional tech - and helps to drive the story.  Plus, by using this technique, it allows the audience to easily follow multiple characters.

Phillips' bio at the end of each book is also impressive.  You can trust that his actions scenes are probably accurate since he was an Army Ranger and since he has a Master's in physics, his scientific explanations are founded on solid science.  Basically, this is a guy that is tougher and smarter than just about anybody and he decided to write science fiction.  I respect that.

One thing that I do need to address is the tone of the books.  I would say that these books are probably in the PG-13 range in regards to graphic-ness.  While there is some swearing, no one drops any F-bombs - in that sense, it's too "clean" to be an accurate portrayal of high schoolers.  There is some flirting that takes place between some of the adult characters, but no "adult situations" are described.  However, it does get pretty intense when it comes to violence.  Nothing is ever focused on for too long and I'm pretty sure that I've read more gory works by classical writers, but it kept my mom from finishing the second book.  Because the books star high school kids, I can see why people think this is a Young Adult series, but they're written at a more adult level.

Even with the darker nature of the story, these books were fun to read.  I recommend them for adults that enjoy cool sci-fi stories with good characters and exciting action.

The Rho Agenda trilogy is published by 47North

Won't Somebody Think of the Children?

I think I'm supposed to learn to interact with kids better, because it keeps coming up lately.

Last Sunday, it was announced in Elder's Quorum that every member of the Relief Society would be meeting together for the third hour, so that meant that the men would need to cover the final hour of primary.  I would have happily volunteered, but I transcribe for a deaf brother in the Quorum (using a laptop), so I needed to stay.  However, I noticed that he and his wife were absent in Sunday School, so I told the Elder's Quorum President that I was available if someone hadn't shown up.  And, of course, someone hadn't.

Due to the way the Church runs things, two men were needed for each class: one teacher and one "enforcer."  I said that I would prefer being the enforcer, but I could teach if I had to.  Well, my partner ended up being Samuel (purely by chance), so I took the lead.  I didn't have a chance to look at the manual before sitting down with everyone, but I did my best.

Thankfully, the class was populated with 5 and 6-year-olds, so the kids weren't too young.  The lesson was on following after the Savior, so I gave everyone a chance to do a motion that everyone needed to follow (though one shy boy just stood there - I just instructed everyone to stand up straight and be still).  I also asked in several different ways how we can follow Christ; the most popular answers were "Choose the right" and "Don't kill people" (if the naivete of children wasn't so cute, it would be terrifying).  We made a trip to the bathroom at the half-way point and I was very glad that every kid that needed to go proudly announced that they could go by themselves.

The experience was fun, but it was mostly a game of "kill time while being as close to on-topic as possible."  Samuel did well with getting a couple of boys to stay in their seats and the kids were pretty enthusiastic and seemed to enjoy the time.  I am happy that I got a chance to interact with some children that I have no real connection to, but I'm also happy that I get to regularly spend time with the grown-ups.

Secret Society

I originally wrote this piece (it's a teleplay) for a class in college back in the fall of 2009.  It was soon after this happened.  Some of the people that appear here are no longer with us and I was a bit too cruel with some of my humor, but I still think it stands as being funny, even if it is a little mean-spirited.  Let me know what you think.

INT. OF A DARK ROOM

We see a round table surrounded by several people wearing long cloaks with hoods pull up so that we cannot see anyone's face.  The cloaks appear to be made of silk and most are black, but there are a few that are different colors.  The room is partially lit with candles that line the room.  Few details of the room are visible, but we can see that it has wood paneling with a ledge for the candles to rest on about 5 feet up.  The camera slowly pans around the backs of the figures at the table and we can see that one chair is vacant.  One figure reaches forward with an old, but still quite feminine hand, and strikes a gavel on the table.

CHAIRMAN: This meeting of the Insane Celebrity Brotherhood will come to order.  What is our order of business, Secretary Liza Minnelli?

SECRETARY: The induction of Brother Kayne West into the High Circle, Chairman Elizabeth Taylor.

CHAIRMAN: [to self] Ah, yes.  That was beautiful what he did at the VMA's. [to group again] Brother Kayne West!  Step forward!

We see a figure enter the room, again dressed in a black, silk cloak, but the figure is wearing sunglasses on the outside of the hood.

BROTHER KAYNE WEST: 'Sup, y'all?

CHAIRMAN: The High Circle of the Insane Celebrity Brotherhood welcomes you, Brother Kayne West.  You have been an active member for quite some time, but with the tragic passing of Chairman Michael Jackson we had a vacant seat.

BROTHER KAYNE WEST: Why do you think I did what I did when I did?

CHAIRMAN: Exactly.  Please take your seat.

BROTHER KAYNE WEST seats down on the other end of the table from THE CHAIRMAN.  The figure in a pink robe raises her well manicured hand.

CHAIRMAN: Yes, Sister Paris Hilton?

SISTER PARIS HILTON: Yeah, so why do we have to wear these robes again?  I don't like the hoody thingies.

CHAIRMAN: [sighing] We've been over this, Sister Paris Hilton.  Who would like to answer?

SISTER LINDSEY LOHAN: I thought it was because it was fun.

CHAIRMAN: Well, yes, but the official reason we wear them.

A male hand raises.  The robe he wears is black.

CHAIRMAN: Go ahead, Brother Tom Cruise.

BROTHER TOM CRUISE: To protect our identities.

CHAIRMAN: Yes, thank you Brother Tom Cruise.  This way, no one knows who anyone else is, so we won't be intimidated by having to work with any other crazy celebrities.

SISTER BRITNEY SPEARS: So why do we still say our full names?

CHAIRMAN: And who would like to answer that one?

BROTHER TOM CRUISE: Does it have to do with aliens?

CHAIRMAN: [sighing] No, Brother Tom Cruise, we've gone over this.  If you aren't at Church, you don't need to mention aliens.  Who else?

SISTER AMY WINEHOUSE: Oi!

CHAIRMAN: I'm not responding to you Sister Amy Winehouse.  Not until you apologize.

SISTER AMY WINEHOUSE: I didn't know it was your dog!  Who brings a dog with them everywhere they go?!

Several hands go up.
SISTER AMY WINEHOUSE: You take a dump on a dog just once and no one forgets. [Takes a drink from a bottle].  I'm checkin' out.

One more hand goes up from a figure in a sparkly white cloak.

CHAIRMAN: Yes, please, Brother Prince.

BROTHER PRINCE: As celebrities, we crave attention.  So even in secret, we want everyone to know who we are.

Sitting next to BROTHER PRINCE is BROTHER DAVID HASSELHOFF, whose cloak is covered with pictures of his own face.

BROTHER DAVID HASSELHOFF: Speak for yourself.

END SCENE.