I have always given inordinate reverence to women. And knowing this have been reluctant to enter sexual congress knowing how easily I am consumed by loyalty, not for submission to their sexual attraction, so much as my willingness to be their slave. By whatever means or measures do I now enter what I consider my final and fatal phase of celibacy. Well aware the inevitability of flagging interest &/or ability but merely the grandeur of no longer desiring their bodies but their magnificent souls.
It is amusing, my history of submission to the glory of matriarchy. A young lion amongst the horde of Lionesses who with amusement at my desire and praise would take a few moments to love me as a person not a beast.
My cycles of rest and activity grow increasingly erratic. It would be vainglorious to imply it is God who awakens me. Or that the engine of my perpetual prayer is twilling in light or darkness, yet it is since I awoke thinking of Gore Vidal and William F. Buckley. Men I greatly admire. Recently I took time to give my attention to Terry Gross who replayed an interview with Gore in homage for his recent demise.
I was astonished to acknowledge his and Buckely’s parentage were political. Then to acknowledge my favor for Buckley who it now seems was a prig sexually which somewhat lessens his place in my pantheon of brilliance.
I am no longer in the closet regarding my analytical proclivities. Seeing my penchants as merely a facet of my self and not perverse even if unsolicited.
M disappears behind a cloud of dismissal when I express my political views. Which have by this post obviously changed especially when I transit my native American self who essentially says I wish the Mayflower et all had been stranded upon Atlantis and they perished there. I am no longer of any race or gender and ashamed to have a pale face,
God or Creation itself created the two genders and those in between else why so many fruitful or merely fruits multiplied extensively? Mr. Vidal obviously won that debate since his candor included the hypothetical of anal intercourse between men and women in Europe and not an exclusive practice between men.
Oral sex was instituted by women as the original contraceptive.
In a jocular snarky sense, if we are concerned about the burgeoning population it would slow to a creep by giving televisions and requisite electricity to run them to every living person. Of course the programing would, of needs, include sexual education. An activity, in and of itself, depicted in motion or still imagery, is actually too repetitive to be amusing for long. And by removing the taboo aspect sex would find a natural an meaningful balance. Men of any endowment are generally savage and boringly aggressive while woman make love with languor and adoration inconceivable to little boy’s impatience.
As I continue to explore the heart of darkness regarding my love affair with either my mother or M I discover better the nature of love and the best part of women; what lies between their ears not their thighs or chests.
By this overlong introduction I will now share my dismay with what passes for entertainment provided by commercial television and motion pictures in general. Both have become sewers of lies dominated by violence and in consequence life is no longer real but an abstract game or competition of no meaning who can destroy what with how much of a bang or silently. This is the entertainment of helpless people unable to express their terror of what is actually happening -- merely the truth.
If however instead of televisions we made available computers with appropriate connection uncensored by asshole politicians bought and paid for by the actual governance of the world, Corporations, then we might have a chance of survival as a species on this once glorious planet.
If I use the analogy of sewer for delivery of fear, manipulation toward consumption of things not only unnecessary nor manufactured in The United States. Or for the herding of lemmings over the manufactured entertainment of the rich; we fighting their wars of enrichment. I should also tell you that sewers work both ways not merely spewing waste and lies but sucking your brains out. At that not only your brains but your souls as well teaching you lies about everything.
I know Susan & Jodi bride of my youth and daughter of my heart) watched football merely to alienate me from them further. Football is not a sport but a reprise of baboons raping children in the arenas of Rome. Slop for the plebeians to quite rebellion. This equally applies to the authority of church or state who glibly destroy millions of ours and theirs as manufactured enemies profiting handsomely for their crimes against the commonwealth of life.
I am quite conservative of God and life despite their being too many of us to survive. There is considerable difference between the Church as an institution about God but not God him or herself. Study asexual reproduction if you would really want to know about virgin birth or love of another kind or marriage as an affair not of love but an issue of estates. As for politicians they are merely a reprise of slavery by would be kings.
I had briefly toyed with voting for our present Commander and Chief until I was advised that he was as much a phoney as the previous “King” What tipped the balance was that both parties avoid honesty by requiring journalist to allow them first edit on anything published.
Don’t kiss your ass good, merely lay in the bath tube and cut your throat. Use nice warm water not for your comfort but for those who have to dispose of your body. This random bit of snark was inspired by Fritz Eichenberg who told me that Jersey Kosinski had suffocated himself in a bathtub in a plastic grocery bag held securely in his hands until he expired. They were summertime neighbors. I remain appalled yet merely bored by the game of politics as practiced by fear and intimidation in America.
Politics is about power but then so is love. Knowing this I pray for the generation pushing me off the edge of life that they might know something about truth and not be governed by fear and dishonesty espoused by hypocrites and bigots.
In closing I will confess to having spent two or three days with John McLuaflin while he campaigned in Rhode Island. Despite his entertaining ways on television he remains, at least in my mind, a beloved Jesuit. As for myself the process of becoming nothing continues. What I think of as not rebirth, resurrection or reincarnation but extrusion . . . possibly an incarnation of the Sufi crossing an abyss not on a tight wire but on thin air. Read Rumi if you want to know what love is. . . . and save yourselves.
© 2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved
No comments:
Post a Comment