I just finished Me, Myself, and Bob, by Phil Vischer (Amazon). This is a beautifully written book about the beginning brilliance and ultimate break-down of Big Idea, which was subsequently bought by a bigger company and labeled Big Idea Inc.
Vischer dreamt to displace Walt Disney. Desiring a Disney undiluted by modern humanism, Vischer deemed the Divine was a more dignified director. He dreamt a world changed by delicious dietary dissiminators of discernment to displace daily dose of depravity.
An admirable goal, and one that appeared attainable at apex of the the beginning of the association. Ultimately, the aggregation attended more to it’s auspicious accomplishments than its archetypal antecedents.The aftermath of this application assembled an atomic accident that ate the Tales of Veg.
Definitely a hunky dory herald of hubris. The book is humorous, humble, and inspiring. That is, until your hands hesitatingly heed the turnable hind pages of the hardcover.
I cannot remember such an unassuming book that unearthed my intentions with such an uncompromising ultimatum. In the ultimate pages, Vischer unfolds our universal problem: idolatry.
Certainly idolatry is the wellspring of all sin, most agree with these words. And yet, we welcome it weekly into our way of life.
How do these un serendipitous splinters slither into the stillness of a simple life? Slyly, by sneaking onto our splendid schemes of significance.
Currently, I will close. The consequent post is coming down the pike, to be considered by my contemporaries upon its completion.
In other words: great book, I’ll write more about how it challenged me when I don’t have the urge to alliterate.