Strangely Naked

The Action Bible. Have you ever heard of it? I hadn’t until Monday, and by Tuesday, I was the owner of my very own, thick, personalized, three pound The Action Bible. The Action Bible–which I like saying and writing because, c’mon, it sounds like the name of a rejected Transformer prone to extreme sports, “Sorry, Optimus Prime, but Action Bible is off wing-suit diving off the Burj Khalifa after snowboarding in an avalanche, you know ol’ Action Bible”–is a thick tome that selectively illustrates the conflict-based bits of the picture-less, inaction Bible. It was a gift to me by an overly excited intern at my work.

I work at a non-profit as a grant writer (among other duties, don’t pigeon hole me…which, by the way, where did “pigeon hole” come from?) and this intern is interviewing people for her dissertation. “What about your job do you like?” And “How did you come into this job?” These were the general questions to which I gave general answers. Once the primary interview ended, I was trapped in a web of her secondary agenda. Not being a fan of confrontation due to laziness and overly-acute empathy, rather than struggle against the spider-queen (the intern) I rolled around in the web to maybe ingratiate myself more to my predator.

Basically, the intern wants to start her own non-profit giving away The Action Bible to people around the world.  She was in the hospital for a time and says that The Action Bible (gawd I love saying that title) changed her life. She gets this sparkle in her eye and passion when she talks about it. While I admire and, in part, envy her passion, I think I’ve said on here before that the inaction Bible is a translation of a translation of an interpretation. If people get something meaningful, some sort of life guidance out of the inaction or ACTION Bible, that’s great, no judgement, it’s just not for me. I get my spirituality from old Far Side comic strips (not that I’m equating the two).

I don’t lie to her, while also carefully navigating the treacherous waters of being the iceberg that doesn’t want to sink her schooner of  dreams. She shows me pictures of it and as a fan of graphic storytelling, I tell her that it’s gorgeous. I also give her practical advice that corporations probably won’t give her grants, but look at family foundations and similar organizations. See? I was being nice. TELL ME I’M A GOOD PERSON DAMMIT!

The next day, she comes into the office clutching a The Action Bible as I pass her to get a cup of tea and she very excitedly tells me she brought one for me. What am I to do, tell her that the thing that changed her life holds zero interest for me? I’m a part of the internet: bold in anonymity and an introverted coward in person. So I graciously accepted her gift. My review? It’s physically heavy with a lot of angry white people in it for it taking place mostly in Africa and the Middle East.

The title of this post wasn’t a declaration, but a plea for help. I don’t know how to reject people when they think they’re doing nice things that I don’t want to accept. “That’s very nice…FOR YOU, but I don’t want the life-changing thing you love!” See? I can’t do that.