Hellboy and destiny.

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I watched Hellboy. I enjoyed the show. It was not as good as the first, but good enough. The shows are as blockish and brutish as the star yet they convey much. I had the show pegged by the quarter mark, give or take. I have seen this story before, in different ways. At least, I have thought these things in my mind. It is all fun and games until the dark underlying theme becomes present. It casts a shadow until it is all fun and games again. The darker truth is true for all of us in a minor way, more so for a few. It is something that has bothered me since before my illness and follows me, even as I heal.

Every once in a while, a destroyer is born. This creature can harm greatly. It can heal or learn to do so, but that is not what it is about. The only true talent is destruction, perhaps more, the only purpose is obliteration. This does not mean it is cruel, though it can be cruel. This does not mean it hates, though it may hate. It does not mean anything most “peaceful” people would have it mean. As a fact, most “people of peace” are the worst of the lot, willing to surrender to evil and despise their saving destroyers. I would say that is worse.

No, crushers were born and simply do what they do. It is not a passion, but a gift or a trait or even perhaps a destiny. It is something done with little more thought than an artist gives a tube of paint or a particular easel, a pastor gives a particularly nondescript Sunday, or a barber gives to a particular head of hair. Some thought, certainly. An initial evaluation before, then during, and sometimes after the task is completed. But these thoughts are almost automatic, they come with the skill sets, and after the initial training they grow and become more creative, individual, and specific. But they are mere whispers of consideration, nuances of interpretation, non-taxing dalliances with what might have been, what is becoming, and what will be.

I am one of those. Perhaps I am no Bruce Lee, Chuck Norris, or Vox Day. Yet, even in the condition I am in, granting me license in mortal combat, or even making a mistake, could be fatal. I dream it still, in the background. I smell it, feel it in others, sense the pull, and know when to be prepared for the most part. A proper hunter could approach off the radar, but if not immediately fatal, I have a means for that as well. I have even told those who risked the danger and threatened me that, should they win and “kill me”, they had best behead me. I have been back before. I have lived through what should not be lived through. Humiliation is a known, I can deal with it. Pain, suffering, and loss in all it’s connotations, are common material, having learned these beyond what some may ever understand.

And yet, some of us are called. I was called by my Father. After some not insignificant struggle, I came. After further struggle, and then a… a release, I bowed, then later kneeled, and finally surrendered. I have surrendered and won, it was the only way to lose. I did so gratefully. I am more pleased than any might understand to, once again but this time perfectly, to have a Master. I am growing in strength of body and mind. I am learning both religious and other intellectual material. I am expanding my world of friends, rekindling old friendships, and becoming a more full family member. All, of course, given to His glory and with thanks.

What this comes to, however, is a question. How can one of the Four Horsemen come to know Christ? How can War know love? How can I be what I am and be what I am called to be? Is there a choice, or is that the choice, or is there a need for a choice? Perhaps I am not 6’5”, red, with a hand of stone. Of course I have never fought foreign deities, shot a Smith & Wesson .5000 magnum, or dated lady delight. That is all, hmmm, metaphor though. My guide is St. Michael, I am a form of ruination, and I have warred more than most people, even most soldiers, ever will. I was born at war, I felt that call when young, I almost knew I think.

Anyway, the movie was so-so. Go see it if you are a fan, or bored. I think it was better than batman. There is more here than just good and bad, there is the ugly too, in more ways than one. *riddle me this* Just do not expect a lot and you will not be disappointed. Then again, maybe I am being hard on the movie because I am so chipper?