A couple of days ago, I posted the following on my Facebook timeline. Several people read it and expressed their agreement, but it did not evoke the controversy that I expected. Evidently nobody read it who was willing to question its validity:
ideological conservatives are essentially either gullible or evil. If
gullible, they are also, consequentially, prone to being evil-doers. If
essentially evil, and also intelligent, they may endeavor to drive whole
herds of the gullible into such things as war and divisive hatred of
the Other. Thus, conservatism, although it uses religion to recruit
gullible mobs to be used as it suits a particular conservative agenda,
is in reality antithetical to every major religion in the world.
Conservatism is evil because it is founded upon selfishness and greed,
both of which things are destructive to agape which is central to true
I don't know whether to be pleased or disturbed that his rather harsh estimation of contemporary American political conservatism raised no howl of protest.
Friday, August 9, 2013
Friday, August 2, 2013
The musings of Anais Hendricks, the wonderful teenage protagonist of Jenna Fagan’s great novel, The Panopticon:
They say the devil’s best trick was to make everyone believe he didnae exist. Maybe God’s just a scientist. This is all an experiment gone wrong, every single one of us, just wonky as fuck because of some chemical cock-up that was meant to produce something less faulty.
Yes. Quite possibly so.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
What follows here are two pretty much unedited comments I made on a Facebook status update that asked the burning question: "Can a person be a Republican or a Democrat and Follow Jesus?"
I commented as follows (with some minor modification):
Nobody follows Jesus. St. Francis, and a few others, made a good run at it. Somebody will say "Mother Teresa." Uh-huh. Well, mean-spirited as it was, much of what Hitchens said about her was true, unfortunately. Nobody can function in modern civilized society and follow Jesus. Jesus was an anti-establishment, subversive, drop-out, who lived only for the next world. And that is what He asked of his disciples.
But, on second thought, I shouldn't say "nobody," because I can't know that. But if that person if out there, he is a filthy, smelly beggar, living on the street, with a heart full of sorrowful love for each and every distracted, deluded, ego-burdened soul who hurries on by him without giving him a look.
That, my friends, is the cold, hard truth.
Friday, July 12, 2013
There is so much to fear --
such as boils on the doorknobs
and the negative opinion
of the redheaded house finch
beaking green seed on the drive
in the golden dawn --
Or the insistent current of the murky river
which has swept so many tired
and truth-drunk swimmers toward
the effervescing salts of temporal oblivion
Inside off the pavements
having given limping nature its due
hot girls rock their roles in scanty pants
their baby doll voices clashing with their flashing asses
Interior rhyme has indentured itself
to another term of service in the cellars
of the parlors de tattoo
where stacks of chapbooks gather dust
on counters beaded with the dew of diligence --
Your inseam doesn’t cut it in such a world
I suggest that you find a flint
and strike a spark to fan a flame
to run along the cutting edge
of your rhetorical blueprint
to proof it with extreme prejudice
to add the weight of its ash
to the mass of what matters
anchoring you safely here below
the realm of the flesh-eating angels
The atheist knows in his heart
that he’s no more than a bug
in mother nature’s shaggy muff
but I’m not there yet --
Don’t talk to me of trees like men walking
when the precise re-verse is Gospel legend
Cultivate your signature flaw
as you would your favorite fetish --
Never doubt that you are hated
and be left without a reason to lie
scorned by even the lip-reading deaf
It is always time for lunch
and you still can’t afford it
if you need to ask why.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
I don't know about anybody else, but the result of my crashing disappointment in Obama has been that I've simply stopped following politics; I've realized that it's all scam, all the time. Politics is a television show, staged for the sole purpose of mentally/emotionally herding the bleating merinos toward the economic abattoir. Anybody who makes it to the top of any particular political ladder--congress, the senate, governorship, POTUS--has long since been bought and paid for; he is working neither to express the will, nor for the good, of the American people. The media are, needless to say, in uniform compliance, in that they treat it all as "real," even if seeming to be in strong opposition. Ergo, Rachel Maddow is as much a whore as anybody on Fox News in the final analysis.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
I cannot remember feeling less positive about being an American, or less hopeful about the foreseeable future of America, than I felt as I sat before my television, watching the citizens of Watertown, Massachusetts pour out into the night-time streets to stomp their feet and cheer, taking up the mindless chant of U ! S ! A ! U ! S ! A ! U ! S ! A ! as the armored vehicles carrying Kevlar-clad storm troopers withdrew from their neighborhoods.
What were they cheering about? They were cheering that an army, numbering in the thousands, clad as Black Op commandos, had finally run to ground a single, allegedly badly wounded, almost certainly scared shitless, nineteen-year-old boy; a boy who turned out not even to have been armed.
In the course of accomplishing this stupendous feat of bravery, this phalanx of commandos had gone door-to-door, forcing the citizens of Watertown to leave their already locked-down homes, hands on their heads, looking into the muzzles of military assault weapons: martial law, folks, martial law—right here in River City.
What I did not see captured on video from behind the lace curtains of any citizen’s upstairs window was any card-carrying NRA patriot, standing on his front porch wielding his weapon in defiance of this order to evacuate his castle, and singing hymns about the snatching of his Second Amendment rights only from his cold, dead hand by the agents of Big Government Tyranny.
No. I did not see Courageous Defender of Liberty, Justice and the U.S. Constitution number one.
What I saw was a compliant herd of bleating merinos, standing on their hind legs in the dark, looking almost like men.
How very cheap is talk.
How easily is any ideal stepped around when the master’s voice is heard.
Time now to turn all mirrors to the wall. Time to grab your ankles and grit your teeth. It’s going to hurt; but always remember—it’s for your own good. God bless America.