The tent size seemed finally just about right, especially since the ceiling was for the first time high enough to install a decent-sized movie screen. We did, of course, have the usual mechanical breakdowns, though nothing quite like our now-legendary three-hour Time Machine screening in '97. And what certainly felt for survivors like an upper Fuchida-numbered storm crashed into the grounds Monday afternoon, shredding the Exhibition Tent and setting the Imaginarium Store a day or so behind schedule. So we didn't get to decorate the store quite as cool as in years past, but we still managed to sell quite a few books. Make a note to order more popcorn next year, and that we haven't yet reached the limits of growth of total rubber chicken sales.

Most significantly, for the first time ever, your erstwhile Imaginarium staffers were not found stumbling incoherent around the Cornerstone Farm grounds muttering "Never again" for several days after the fest, but instead were reportedly tossing about ideas for next year within hours of the conclusion of Cornerstone Fest '98. One reason for this, no doubt, can be attributed to the increase in numbers of staff. Kathrine Williams joined us to run the daytime program, and Rod Bennett was on hand to help Dave run the nightime show, leaving various other personnel free to rove around as needed, and sneak off to snitch courtesy beverages from Speaker Hospitality.

Meanwhile, out there under that hot, sweaty tent, Brad Hicks and Scott Sawyer of the Denver-based Inklings magazine gave us a good word to carpe some right-brain diem, with strategies for seizing new imaginative territory from literature, movies and from life itself. Thanks guys for the "I Love Lucy (And Peter. And Edmund. And Susan.)" t-shirt. To get your own, and keep up with all the doings at Inklings mag, check out the Inklings magazine web site. And be sure to check out the article on Charles Williams we've been privilaged to reprint from a recent issue of Inklings in the new installment of Imaginarium Online's "Inklink".

It was also a privilage to invoke the spirit of G.K. Chesterton in launching the new Cornerstone Magazine Tent. Dr. John "Chuck" Chalberg gave us a masterful performance -- incredible for memorization, professionalism (especially seen in Chuck's commitment to wearing that wool costume in heat-warning weather) and in bringing to life the squeaky-voiced patron saint of the Imaginarium, G.K.C., in all his wisdom and innocence. Chuck Chalberg turns out to be a rather soft-spoken fellow in real-life, with a laid-back sense of humor, until he dons mustache, pince nez, and "fat suit" and bursts into Chesterton's bellowing profundity.

A real trooper, Chuck donned the get-up again Thursday morning in our Imaginarium re-enactment of a debate between G.K.C. and his beloved enemy, George Bernard Shaw -- played by longtime Cornerstone staffer Eric Pement's father, Norman. The debate -- "Shaw Versus Chesterton: Their Last Public Debate" -- was written by Carl Sundell, who graciously gave us permission to perform the play at the Imaginarium. It was a rousing exchange, indeed, true to the spirit of both G.K.C. and G.B.S., and the audience voted to let the show continue to the end, even though it meant going a half-hour overtime in a very hot tent. (The entire debate-play may be ordered from SUN Publishing, P.O. Box 26, Worcester, MA, 01606, for $4.95 plus $3.00 shipping and handling per copy. MA residents should add 5% sales tax.) Afterwards, there was brisk business done in copies of the debate, as well as G.K.C. t-shirts and samples of the magazine Gilbert!, from the American Chesterton Society.

And what a treat it was to host our 1998 Imaginarium special guest Jennifer Harris, of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, and the flight-director for the Mars Pathfinder Mission. Jennifer brought with her a scale model of the Mars rover and peppered her main lecture with references to "orbital mechanics," "launch windows," and the dust-devils on Mars, but not before opening her talk with a quote from evangelical firebrand, A.W. Tozer. She hit the Imaginarium Bullseye without even trying. And she put her faith into action right there when the rocket scientists at the Imaginarium could get neither the VCR or slide projector part of her presentation working. (Our excuse: they didn't give us a double equipment failure in the simulator.)

Jennifer took it all in stride, though, winging a perfect morning session and then coming back after dark to host a killer slide show. I watched in the back as my good buddy Nathan (who will always remain my ideal "Imaginarium kid") ate it all up, taking such pleasure in knowing that he will always remember that he saw this presentation at a Christian event. Just as those kids who monopolize the good seats and grass beneath the movie screen will always remember the first time they saw The Day the Earth Stood Still or Forbidden Planet was at the Imaginarium. How gratifying for those of us whose Christian upbringing often gave us the distinct impression that science and imaginative experience was at best suspect and at worst irrelevant or sinful. (And while the kids don't always stick around for the discussion after the movies, they know that's what the grown-ups do: imagine that -- being taught at a young age that what adults do after watching a movie or tv show is sit around discussing it into the night.)

Jennifer also brought along a great 3D Mars panarama (which went well with our own 3D emphasis this year -- see below). If you didn't get a chance to check out the panarama, find yourself some 3D glasses and log on to the 3D Mars page of the JPL site.

It was great to have Rod Bennett, without whose Wonder there would have been no Imaginarium, back to do a classic "Rod Bennett" sort of lecture, "King Kong Died for Your Sins," as an intro to his series on Christ-figures in movies and a prologue for our series of "Alien Messiah" films, which included The Day the Earth Stood Still, E.T.: The Extraterrestrial, and of course, King Kong. In his talk on King Kong, Rod touched on his love of the stop-motion effects of Willis O'Brien, and so we've included a new article from the pages of Wonder in this installment of Imaginarium Online, Rod's wistful eulogy to that lost stop-action world.

The "Alien Messiah" idea branched in several directions, and ultimately became the closest thing we had to a theme this year. It was picked up by Doug Groothuis, in his lecture on Joseph Campbell. (Of course, while Campbell thought Jesus was just another Christ-figure, C.S. Lewis insisted that all the Christ figures were fulfilled in the historical Christ.) The obverse of "Christ figures" in the movies was taken up in a seminar by Mickey Maudlin of Christianity Today, who treated us to splendid scene-by-scene comparison of portrtayals of Judas in films. And Wheaton Prof Leland Ryken helped to frame our discussion of myth with a survey of Faerie, conducted by one who indeed knows his way around that country.

And now we'll talk about that incredible Sock-Hop -- although, I'm sure, words will not be adequate. This was definately a "you had to be there" situation. Let's just say what began almost as an afterthought turned out to be one of the highlights of the '98 Imaginarium. Picture three hundred plus people jammed into the tent, doing the Peppermint Twist, the Stroll, the Swim. The tent decorated with streamers, ballons, and party lights donated by Archie McPhee (thanks, Arch!). Rod and Dave wearing "Chaperone" signs on their backs. Rod at the microphone as DJ, urging wallflowers to join the fun, promising to tap the shoulders of couples who danced closer than six inches apart. B-Monster movie trailers playing on the tv with the sound down, signs posted, "Isn't this the ginchiest?" To be honest, if the grass could have opened up to reveal a swimming pool underneath and we'd all jumped in, it could not have been more ginchy. It was hard to bring the sock-hop to a close. But we had to, because everybody knew what was coming next.

We emptied the tent so we could put the chairs in order for the climax of the evening and the festival. As we cleaned up, over the microphone we urged those waiting outside the tent in line who had just heard we were showing a 3D movie to maybe let to the front of the line those who had been thinking about nothing else for the past few days. It turned out we needn't have worried: when all the glasses had been passed out, we had six pairs left over. Meanwhile, the film rental company had inexplicably sent two prints of the film, The Creature from the Black Lagoon. And Dave inexplicably put the wrong print in the projector. Two-hundred red eyes and two-hundred blue eyes strained to see the third dimension -- and perhaps began to think that 3D was yet one more grossly overrated phenomena in a world full of such things.

Then the lights came on. There's Dave, April Foolin', and quickly switching prints before the rowdy crowd threatens to burn down the tent. Lights off, and right away, from the Universal Pictures logo standing out from the swirling Earth, we realize we've entered into another dimension of sight and sound. Then a flashback of sorts, back to the Big Bang, as we begin at the beginning and the particles of the explosion shoot off the screen and over the heads of the audience. Everybody ducks and screams. This is going to be great, we're all thinking, and sure enough, it was. As good as advertised.

And hopefully, so was the '98 Imaginarium. See you next year.