Murrrrrr...

No, I won't say it.

Actually, I think I have to. It used to be a perfectly good word, but it's been taken from me. Or rather, it's a word I don't want anymore because it's become infected. I simply can't say avatar without people thinking about the James Cameron movie. I knew this day was coming, ever since I learned that M. Night. Shyamalan's rendition of Avatar: The Last Airbender would be known simply as the "the Last Airbender".

The Last Airbender is probably my favorite animation of all time, and I've watched a lot in my time, both American and Japanese. Airbender embodies my ideal mixture, ideal style of story telling: clean but hilarious, epic but with lighter moments, goreless but with a seriousness to the violence, romantic but without any lust (a bit redundant, since I don't find lust romantic at all). The point of bringing up this masterpiece, besides telling you, my dear reader, to just go and watch it, is that I can not bring it up by the name I had known it as in casual conversation. With my brother, sure, if given the proper context I can simply say "Avatar" and mean the cartoon, but that's it. Now I always have to say "The Last Airbender", "Avatar, that cartoon", "the Nickelodeon kids' show formerly known as Avatar". Bummer. If you would believe it, this is not the first time I've had the word "avatar" taken from me.

Quite a while ago, I had this idea for a series. The basic premise is that the mythological pantheons are based on beings that existed, but the stories of them differed so much from the source as to be near unrecognizable, somewhat like the Bishop St. Nicholas and our modern Santa Claus. Given that these beings, twelve in number, were present all over the world, stories of pantheons also exist all over the world. These beings decide to disappear for a while because they didn't like being worshipped, but vowed to return when the earth was in trouble. In the near future, twelve superheroes are born as successors, possessing only a portion of the original godlike powers, since they're human. Avatars. Avatar is such a great term to use with them, even though they're not technically reincarnations (the identity crisis of these heroes is a major theme, as they don't know if they are reincarnations or just the next holders to the torch). Then I heard about the cartoon, and decided I should stay away from, at the very least, entitling my series "Avatar", though perhaps I’ll still use it to refer to the superheroes in story. Now, of course, using “Avatar” anywhere in any sort of title would probably not be in good style. Not for many years, anyway. I must wait for that parasite that has latched onto those six letters to die, when people stop thinking about smurfs at its sound and perhaps think about Indian mythology instead, Vishnu rather than Jake Sully. Time heals all wounds, perhaps it’s also the best antibody.

But isn’t time the very thing parasites steal from us? Whether it’s shortening our lives or disrupting them, we lose time over parasites. Something interrupts us, and we say, “I don’t have time for this”. We never have time for parasites, so parasites have to take it. What happens if we gave our time to parasites? They stop being parasites. We volunteer to help the homeless, they stop being leaches, they become those in need. We bat away the mosquitoes who are after our nutrients and blood, but we purposely attach a baby to our breast so he or she (not it) drains as much as he or she needs. We yell at strays, but feed the dog we’ve adopted into the family. Family is always worth our time. Sometimes. When we find that family members have become too disruptive, too much of an inconvenience, they too become parasites. “No, I don’t have change” or “No, I’m not going to come and get you from the police station.” Even if they don’t end up taking our wanted money and gas, loved ones may weigh on the mind, taking our valuable thought.

However, love might overcome the disruption, the love that propels one to swim oceans and climb mountains for a person. If someone does something for another out of love, it’s not a parasitic relationship, though it can appear that way to outsiders. I’m writing of true love. If I would be allowed to speak of theology for a moment, and I am because it’s my blog, it’s true love that decrees us as children to God rather than parasites of His creation. No matter what we do, we can not inconvenience or disrupt God. Unfortunately, I don’t think love will help me get that word back, unless I can create something even more beloved than James Cameron’s Avatar. Time will tell.