One of my favorite movies isn't one most fundamentalist would own up to loving, because it's central character is a homosexual in Savannah Georgia, "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil," is a brilliant movie that catches the flavor, the ambiance of that great southern city and it's people. In that movie is one of my favorite scenes, John Cusack, the lead actor is getting ready for bed, he turns on his recorder and plays the sounds of New York where he is from, he can't sleep without the noise. We live in noise and we get used to it. Noise, on the other hand, also changes our experience, one of my close associates insists that they have really deep feelings for me, nice to believe that, but what if they've merely become accustomed to my being like John Cusack was to noise? I wonder if in some cases, we who claim the cross, haven't fallen into the same trap?
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