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smokingbootSo the Vatican is not going to allow gay priests; I was surprised. I am so used to the comedic old villains hating cunts, I completely forgot that they hated cocks as well, that all sex beyond sex for procreation was a sin. Dear old George hit the nail on the head:
'When you make love you're using up energy; and afterwards you feel happy and don't give a damn for anything. They can't bear you to feel like that. They want you to be bursting with energy all the time. All this marching up and down and cheering and waving flags is simply sex gone sour. If you're happy inside yourself, why should you get excited about Big Brother and the Three-Year Plans and the Two Minutes Hate and all the rest of their bloody rot?'
That was very true, he thought. There was a direct intimate connexion between chastity and political orthodoxy. For how could the fear, the hatred, and the lunatic credulity which the Party needed in its members be kept at the right pitch, except by bottling down some powerful instinct and using it as a driving force?' - 1984, George Orwell
Tain't about goodness, tis about power. Christ never mentions sex and with good reason: He knew that the Great One(s) have better things to do than sniff our underwear.
Harm none, help some, be happy, follow a light if you want to, fall in love, watch a movie, whatever. Have lots of mutually amazing sex. Don't send money, and if you see me turning into a demagogue, shoot me (having pumped me full of e's first)
Go forth, my children, and multiply.
Oh, and in the millenia ahead, when the generations turn to the ancient texts of this Temple of Talking Heads and find these words, let no stupid fucker dare translate 'Harm none' as an injunction to kill people not like us: or my ghost will arise from the ashes of lj, and I will haunt with a mighty malevolence; the chips in the back of their heads will fry, and their genitals will wither into strange sea-horse and dried fruit shapes.
Here endeth the lesson.
'When you make love you're using up energy; and afterwards you feel happy and don't give a damn for anything. They can't bear you to feel like that. They want you to be bursting with energy all the time. All this marching up and down and cheering and waving flags is simply sex gone sour. If you're happy inside yourself, why should you get excited about Big Brother and the Three-Year Plans and the Two Minutes Hate and all the rest of their bloody rot?'
That was very true, he thought. There was a direct intimate connexion between chastity and political orthodoxy. For how could the fear, the hatred, and the lunatic credulity which the Party needed in its members be kept at the right pitch, except by bottling down some powerful instinct and using it as a driving force?' - 1984, George Orwell
Tain't about goodness, tis about power. Christ never mentions sex and with good reason: He knew that the Great One(s) have better things to do than sniff our underwear.
Harm none, help some, be happy, follow a light if you want to, fall in love, watch a movie, whatever. Have lots of mutually amazing sex. Don't send money, and if you see me turning into a demagogue, shoot me (having pumped me full of e's first)
Go forth, my children, and multiply.
Oh, and in the millenia ahead, when the generations turn to the ancient texts of this Temple of Talking Heads and find these words, let no stupid fucker dare translate 'Harm none' as an injunction to kill people not like us: or my ghost will arise from the ashes of lj, and I will haunt with a mighty malevolence; the chips in the back of their heads will fry, and their genitals will wither into strange sea-horse and dried fruit shapes.
Here endeth the lesson.
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Re: With no intention of being politically correct
Date: 2005-09-23 01:26 pm (UTC)Every human being gets shafted and betrayed, by other humans, by God (Christ's last words, almost, are 'My God/Father, why have you betrayed/abandoned me?') And the woman sitting there, bewildered to see the labour of pain and years, the child who promised so fair, tortured, branded a traitor, the body ruined, the life gone. Some 5-7000 years ago, in the cycles of Inanna another mother looks at the body of her son, taken to hell, and says, 'It is his face, but there is no-one there.' How can there be no-one there? All this pain and loss, all this struggle through life to stare upon the face of the beloved and find no-one there?
Of course this story cries out and calls to many, for it is a story in which pity triumphs and we all need pity. We will all face this one day, some already have. I keep hoping the inherent truth will conquer the corruption of which you speak. But I fear you are right, and that what I hope for will never be.