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Given my altruistic nature and choices published it would be well for me to never see or hear from the shit head who is by biology etc. "my half-brother" for I may could or might simply look at him and destroy his genealogy backwards and forward in time including myself just for the fun of doing it.
Kapish?
That said, I will say the following: We The People of American will survive the depredations of those two Republican assholes running for election as Commander-and-Chief of America. However I doubt that we will will survive our feelings of helplessness, indifference and suicidal tendencies. If I am in part, or whole, or completely delusional; any part of Jacob, John or Jack in history; or merely a wanna be Jesus upon the cross covered in blood, shit and piss, dying unknowing the love of God who for the moment was silent . . . well what the heaven? Let it be!
How can I idolize the entire human race?
I do.
Do you value yourself enough to ask the fearful questions of why you do or do not do anything? Does your son or daughters have to leave you forever to lend you the suffering requisite to ask God for help? Would it be too much to say that the widows and orphans of Darfur or Tibet, or the Tibetan Nuns self-immolating need and want help?
Laws are useless; remedial instead of proactive. I am a covert Quaker. Yet I refuse to be or join anything but instead am a citizen/denizen of the cosmos. Although I do wear the Jerusalem Cross and am willing to live and die upon; it I am taken with God. As are you; as well. Few if any ever ask the meaning of freedom or free will or responsibility and/or participation in anything but themselves. Masturbation is not a sin but merely a waste of passion. If you do not take responsibility for your health, 90%, not 10%, you are wasting the precious gift of life.
As for me, merely Mrs. Spratt's old, and still overweight, fat boy; white and ignorant, dreaming of The Great Mother Earth I met barefoot, she not me, in Jamaica outside White Wing at dawn sweeping her door stoop and her mocking, smirking, grin, knowing I'd bed or wed her in a nanosecond second. . . .Well she like M remains in my longing to be loved by a woman in all the ways a woman and man, woman and woman, man and man can love one another. Sex of any kind being merely a 7% part of what love is. Just a facet. A mode of expression. The children of which are the future but if sterile or otherwise unable or not desiring to practice making babies or puppies or lambs or lions. . . .Folks there are 40,000 or so children dying daily who need love, touch, attention, just like you or me.
Some asshole prostitute for profit said "Be All you can Be" join the Army. The abuse and misuse of words is the greatest obscenity akin to the Darfur woman forced to bite her son's penis off. I have little concern that the Islamist Extremist will take my idea and use it. They are doing so daily just like the Senators and Congress people are in our Beloved Once Grand United States of America.
If I know the Antichrist I know him well for he is me.
Potentially.
Why do I not walk into a public place explosives taped to my body, and destroy anyone, and everything within the influence area of the explosives carried? I am loyal to God who has no hands, feet or eyes with which to change you or me unless we change ourselves to give instead of take meaning from others.
For years I feared Christmas, the nadir of my life. No amount or quality of gifts could ever make up for the year-round-year-long suffering endured. Now everyday is Christmas celebrating the birth of all children all the world round . . . puppies, kittens, wolves, wasps whatever life biological imperative--thanks to Walt Whitford--to me as divine as I want to be for you--merely a teacher as we both step or are swept off the stage by Shepard crook or whatever . . . unknowing whether to be worm shit, ash or dust or Angel's sans 70 some odd young maiden's breasts to dance across. God is within you and me should only we stop refusing to ask for what it is that is potential and choose between doing or not doing harm to others.
Explicit in birth is death. The celebration of Christmas reminds me more so of this fact, my maternal grandfather, Thomas Merton, my son Randy all died on December 10th.
The Church misappropriated December 25th to use as a holy day what was a pagan celebration as old, older than people of polliwogs were on the planet: Winter Solstice, The longest night and shortest day. The next is M's birthday the 22nd. The next longest day. Beginning the march back to Summer Solstice. In general I avoid the public knowing that women or any woman as kind to me as M will tear me apart--The Fargo Shredder--Evisceration, without anesthesia; I will never die but live on in others all others who love and will act towards the commonweal. Those who cause woe live in hell for eternity.
I am not Jesus, or God, or anything like either or neither of them. I am merely a very patient old man who ate the grief of losing the love of a future watching my son drown in his own blood.
Life is to be it's own reward.
We are born, we live, then die. . . .going to Heaven or Hell.
In some curious way this is more real than God is to me: Truth.
Neither in a rush for death or away from death uncertain whether to live another day or not. I know the U.S. Catholic Conference of Bishops lobby and their influence on the issue of "Right-to-Life."
Right to life without justice? Endlessly enslaved by politicians and Presidents who war preemptively? Create, or cause to create death; singly or massively? If you love love you must participate in the dialog and action or be just what you are to yourself alone and lonely.
Curious to know, knowing I'm curious, what's next?
I was taught by my mother; dad being indifferent in life and death. Then taught by nuns, not merely the one's Catholic; Sisters of Mercy plus other religious orders; more-or-less same/same. Also the Tibetan Buddhist Nuns, who now, more than fifty, have self immolated in protest the rape of Tibet by China. And planned selection of a state sponsored Dalai Lama.
Neither they, nor I, perfect or attempting to be perfect. Only God is perfect. Who in some oddly wonderful way uses our imperfection to be love for others and ourselves. In compassion and empathy. I wonder now, in forgiving myself, my trespass and trespass against others. My lack of compassion for myself. Am I not just like all others a fraud and addicted to whatever?
Weeping.
I guess I'll have to go in the bathroom and make faces laughing at myself, speaking in Randy's voice; I'd rather be pissed off than pissed on!" . . . in some small way daily from birth until beyond my 'death' I've been crucified by my Self. . . .so do me a favor just shoot me.
121016 04:30 life goes on with or without Us
©2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved
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