The Veggie world revolves around sugar-coated childhood troubles and failings, problems easily resolved in the arms of a huggable God. Larry the Cucumber concludes A Snoodle's Tale with the VeggieTales' credo: "God made you special and he loves you very much," to which Bob the Tomato adds, "And he wants you to paint, he wants you to sing, and he wants you to soar." Penned by Vischer, the tale reflects his own difficult path through financial failure to spiritual self-discovery—making the sugary sweetness of the tale even more surprising.
By contrast, in Lewis' The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Edmund represents the model rotter, so consumed by jealousy, greed, and ambition that he betrays his own siblings. And while Seuss' Grinch is saved through personal epiphany (on a high hill), Edmund must reckon publicly with the consequences of his crime, borne by the death of Aslan, the Christ-like Lion. His pride vanquished, Edmund subsequently soars to princely heights. VeggieTales may have a clever edge, but could cute vegetables and snoodles really cut the deeper edge Lewis suggests? With great cultural sophistication VeggieTales demonstrates a sophisticated lack of spiritual and aesthetic depth.
In her TV shows and various publications, Martha has always shown a sophisticated concern for finding the good thing, an aesthetic that is its own ethic. You find the right recipe, you have done right. Her company fought the evil of microwave meals and uniform suburbia with delicate dishes served on antique tablecloths to engaging guests. Tasteful and informative, her shows and magazines revealed little about the mess of living—burned casseroles, spills, mouthy kids, offended guests slamming the door. Stress, anger, sickness, poverty, all were washed away, secretly redeemed by good taste.
Whether you believe Martha is guilty as charged or persecuted to "set an example," the affair has undeniably heightened the contrast between her media products—her personal Narnia—and a real world of troubled human relations.
In my personal Narnia, I envision a wiser Martha Stewart, back at work with a sense of proportion. I'm not suggesting she create a Martha Stewart Humdrum Living magazine. But after all her tribulations, perhaps she will promote a measured lifestyle—with a social conscience? As for Phil Vischer, I see his name appearing as the screenwriter for a Nemo-like, Shrek-sized success that makes funny profound by facing life's spiritual bankruptcies and trials.
Ridiculous, you say? Improbable, I admit. But then who was predicting the sudden downfall of these media titans?






