Filed under: life | Tags: boobies, homosexuality, kinky, life, religion, rimjob, sex
This is being written at the suggestion of C. This is an explanation of my life before during and after my sexual enlightenment.
March 8th of 1988 was the date I was born into the most sexually repressed household in the Western Hemisphere. I was taught from the get go that sex was only to be between spouses and there was such a bleak and serious tone put on it that I thought that anything outside of the missionary position (whatever that was) must be a sin. My mother has only had one boyfriend in her life and now she’s married to him and has been for the past 33 years. My dad had a bit different life but he became just as conservative as she did once he got back from Vietnam in 1967 and dealt with his experience through alcohol, realized that the bottle wasn’t the best way to escape, found Jesus, and became a Southern Baptist minister. Then he met my mom in 1972 and they were married in ‘74. They built a life together based on the churches beliefs, some of their own, and a hell of a lot of dogma.
I grew up thinking that anything The Bible said was complete and literal truth. I had no idea what a homosexual was until I was 5 or so and I thought it was gross. Instead of telling me that some people are different than me and are born that way my mom told me that it was gross as straight sex also is. I had no idea why in the hell anyone would want to do it. These are the thoughts that laid the foundation for my sexual life. (No pun intended.)
Later in life (9 or 10 years old I think) I started feeling like I was being taught something that didn’t feel quite right. Like I was praying to something that wasn’t there. But I was so afraid of leaving it I just got angry and decided that anyone who didn’t believe exactly like I did was stupid, wrong, and below me. This is the point at which I started hating homosexuals and anyone that had sex before marriage. It was a pretty dark time and I never realized how unhappy I was because I thought my self righteousness was happiness. But it’s lonely when you think you’re at the top. This continued until I was about 15.
When I was 14 I had a teacher named Mr. Seghetti. This guy was a short skinny Italian guy with a big head and very different views from mine. We never discussed sex but he was my World Cultures/Geography teacher so we ended up discussing lot’s of things that were completely contradictory to what I believed simply because they were things from different cultures. I argued vehemently with him about these things and whether or not they were wrong. I always said that things were weird or “just not right” and eventually I figured out that when Mr. Seghetti more than that when he argued with me. So eventually I started thinking that maybe he was right. Maybe there was more truth out there than what was in The Bible. Maybe I thought something differently than my parents told me I believed. So my mind started changing. I thought that if I now knew that not everything in The Bible was true why should I govern my whole life by it? So I became angry yet again. But this time it wasn’t at people I thought I was better than but that I had been lied to my entire life.
When I got to High School at 16 my mind transformed. I had the same ideal as before that anyone that thought differently than I do was wrong. Now instead of religion I based my piety on fact. I gained and lost from this time in life. I gained not love for people but indifference to their lifestyles. I now didn’t care what they did in their bedroom because it wasn’t my business which I suppose was a good thing but now I felt nothing. It’s partially because of my new enlightenment and partially because my father had just around that time started thinking about Vietnam again. So I had seen him try to kill himself. After that kind of thing your mind just tends to go numb to a lot of things that once bothered you. But now I didn’t care if people had sex with eachother or themselves or men with men or women with women. (Actually I rather liked women on women.)
I had, however, from my childhood developed a deep fear of showing any romantic emotion to the fairer sex. So I didn’t get a girlfriend until I was 16 and I didn’t have a serious one until I was almost 18. I barely had the testicular fortitude to ask her out on a date and after I did I threw up. Not out of disgust but because I was so fucking nervous. Now I’m engaged to her and I think she’s finally taught me love. I love her of course but moreover I’ve learned love for my fellow man. I’ve learned to be kinky. I like to spank. I like porn. I still don’t care if someone is gay but now it doesn’t even enter my mind when I befriend them. Which I think is the very definition of love. Judging someone by who they are as a person. Not by who they fuck or make love to. Not who they worship. But exactly by who they are.
As of now I’d have to say that I’m one of the kinkiest people I know. I try to love everyone. I love every sexual position including missionary. I even love giving the occasional rimjob. I love life now. It’s a good one.
This Sunday, Easter, my fiance and I went down to my hometown, “The Burg”, for the weekend not realizing we were about to face my über-religious parents on their holiest of holy days. The day Jesus rose from the grave to defeat sin and all that noise.
Just to give you an idea of my childhood, I was told as a youngin’ that the Easter Bunny was evil because he was a distraction from “the true meaning of Easter.” I suppose he is a bit of a distraction but I think “evil” is a bit harsh. Besides, I was but a wee tot when I was told that. So while all of my friends were finding candy in plastic eggs in their back yard I was having the story of Easter read to me from all four gospels of The Bible. Needless to say it was a blast.
Well to get back to the present. My mother asked me to go to church with them. In short I said no. Then my brother wanted me to go and I said no again. But it’s a lot easier to say no to two people above the age of 60 than it is to say to a 23 year old former Marine who outweighs me by 50 lbs of muscle. So I was dragged to church.
Mind you this is the church I was raised in for the first 16 years of my life before I started to find out for myself what I believe as opposed to what my parents told me I believe. My parents are great people and were very well meaning but I could never convince myself to believe the things that they do.
I agreed to go to Sunday School but not the church service because I knew I disagreed with so much what they taught I thought it would be far less frustrating for me if I had the chance to speak up when I knew they were teaching something wrong. But here’s the thing. These are people that believe everything The Bible says hook line and sinker so I wasn’t about to argue using any points that would try to debunk The Bible, just points that would make them think differently about the things they think The Bible says.
We got there and found that while I did know almost everyone that has passed through the doors of that church over the last 20 years, I did not know this new family that was claiming that they would teach me something new about life. I did, however, find an immediate distrust for them. Which I know is a terribly prejudiced thing to do but I couldn’t imagine a situation in which I could trust these people.
The father of this quartet of fallacy ridden Jesus-ogres had a demeanor about him that I can only describe as car salesman-esque. He was characterized almost completely by his plastic smile that absolutely never changed except to become a bit more fake when he thought he was making a good point. He was soon to find out that he wasn’t. He was also wearing a cheap suit. Did I mention he looked like a car salesman?
His wife just kinda sat there and popped in with a pithy comment or two. She also had the plastic smile but it actually waned to a frown when she could see that someone (me) attending the Sunday Suaré didn’t blindly agree with everything being said in the class.
The grandfather is the one they actually called “The Scholar” of the family. This was a misnomer that I will explain later. However this was the only family member that I saw the least bit of generosity in. He sat quietly listening to the lesson until he was asked to tell a story or something.
And then we have the daughter… Oh the daughter… How I loathed her at first sight. She just sat there in her bad maroon colored pant-suit with a shit eating grin on her face only talking to answer her father’s questions with brown nosing expertise only found in the highest of quality fast-food restaurant managers.
There were three main unforgivable points made in falsehood by these perpetrators. The first of which was I think the biggest problem because it had to do with the very vegetables of the lesson. (The vegetables are much like the meat of the lesson but seeing as how I’m a vegan I thought it would be more appropriate.) The lesson was taught on all four gospels. More specifically about the accounts of the first people to discover that Jesus’ tomb was empty. The verses covered were Matthew 28:1-10, Mark 16:1-11, Luke 24:1-12, and John 20:1-9. The father taught a lesson saying that there was some significance in this because they were four stories about the same thing but only the one in John was a first hand account. I’m not sure why that would be important anyway but he seemed to think so.
There was only one problem. The first three are second hand accounts of the first people to find the tomb empty but the verses in John are not even a story about the same point in time. The story in John is about the second group of people to see it. There is one sentence about the Mary’s given second hand and then the rest is about what happened after he and the rest of the disciples heard the news. I don’t know why they couldn’t have presented it as two different stories but apparently it was necessary to be wrong.
Then for some reason that I don’t remember at the moment the grandfather told a story about the ancient passover feast. Apparently from the time of the first passover on the table there was a plate that held three pieces of unleaven bread standing for The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit separated by napkins. The father of the house would then break one of them in half, hide it somewhere, and the kids would play some sort of a “Button Button Who’s Got the Button” kind of game. Did you catch the problem there? During the first passover feast in 1497 BC, 1,497 years before Jesus was born the pieces of bread stood for the trinity… Amazing.
And lastly we come to the father stating that the proof of Jesus rising from the dead was that the gospels state that 500 people saw him after he arose from the dead. I asked him where the proof was that these 500 people had seen him. Now I realize this was close to the line of disproving The Bible as opposed to making them think of The Bible differently but I tried to ask in a way that would make them make better statements to prove their faith. And by the way I think that proving one’s faith is completely unnecessary. You can’t prove religion with science and people need to see that that’s sometimes okay. Anywho the grandfather was up in arms. He threw his bible away stating that if we didn’t believe that we might as well throw out all of our beliefs. I don’t think he caught on that I thought a bit differently.
I think I should end this by saying that I have no problem with faith of any kind. What I have a problem with is when people are in control of the way young people that are more impressionable than they are get the facts wrong. I have no problem with people believing in The Bible I have a problem with people teaching it wrong to make some sort of a point by using situations and “facts” that don’t exist. I think that the Bible has a lot of good ideas that should be taught correctly.
I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.
-Mohandas Gandhi
It’s getting pretty crazy. But not really. I’m not exactly sure what crazy is anymore. I really don’t do anything anymore. I don’t have a job. I’m not in school because it’s spring break but next semester I’m only taking two classes neither one of which are very important for anything but the soul (if that even exists).
I’ve started reading recently. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been illiterate but I’ve never enjoyed reading. I found out that I still don’t like reading fiction and stories and whatnot but I do enjoy reading philosophy and poetry. I’m currently in the middle of Plato’s The Trial and Death of Socrates. What a mind fuck. I kinda remember reading it in summer school, like, five years ago but there is a huge difference between reading something to better yourself and reading something to answer questions on a test. I spent an hour reading it and only got to the end of the argument between Socrates and Euthyphro about the definition of piety. I would read a page and then read it again and again and again until I got the meaning behind that segment and then move on to find that I had gained absolutely nothing. I think I have to chalk it up to the fact that Plato was writing on a completely different level of mindset than your average American guy but It’s still a mind fuck. Also the whole argument is base on the idea of a polytheistic religious society so Socrates using the different gods to void Euthyphro’s point. However I really got some sick sadistic pleasure after Socrates told Euthyphro he could be his lawyer and then dashed his hopes when he proved he was smarter than Euthyphro. It was amazing.
Also I’m going to be starting Dante’s Inferno soon so I have high hopes for that. I hope to be able to show my mother exactly what she believes and why it’s ridiculous. She doesn’t like Catholicism but there sure are some interesting parallels between what she thinks and what they do. So far I’ve found that Catholics and Baptists both have a lot of dogma but the Baptists wont admit it.
I’ve been thinking I could get a degree in Philosophy or religious studies but I can’t really think of what I could do with that beyond teaching. Although I think that’s what I’d have to do to be happy. I really want to teach but I also want options. Well fuck… Thus is my life… Fuck.
So… It’s my first blog. I suppose I should start by telling any poor sap who’s been suckered into reading this (much the same way a pedophile uses candy to lure children into his van) a little bit about myself.
First off I’d like to say that I’m engaged to Hippiesusebackdoor. She’s pretty great. So when you’re done here you should go to her page. We fuck like bunnies. I live in Stumptown. I have ADHD and Lysdexia so it takes me about a week and a half to write a blog because I can barely read it. However I did win my 6th grade spelling bee. Not sure how that worked out.
Anywho I’m in the National Guard band. I play the Tuba and Bass Guitar so I can get your tax dollars from you in the form of college money. I’m vegan, a hippie, and an agnostic. Seeing as how I was raised extremely strictly and extremely southern baptist I really wanted to break away from that but I’m not really sure which version of God is right. So I’m pretty much at the point where I don’t really plan on finding out. The universe is good enough for me, and if it turns out that there is an omnipresent all powerful God I’m pretty sure he/she isn’t narcissistic enough to need praise for the world he/she created that turned out so horrible for most of the beings inhabiting it. I know I said I’m a Jew and I am one. I wasn’t raised a religious Jew. My mother, however, is full blooded so I consider myself one because, hey, Hitler would have whacked me too. I’m very passionate about religion and music. As far as things that aren’t my fiance that’s pretty much it. I’m sure I’ll just end up using this as an excuse to complain most likely, but who knows, I might say something important along the way.
