Jesus Loves Me

We used to sing a song in Sunday School called “Jesus Loves Me” … and it went something like this:
Jesus loves me
this I know,
for the bible
tells me so.
Little ones to him belong.
We are weak, but he is strong.
Yeeessss, Jesus loves me!
Yeeeesss, Jesus Loves Me!
It went on with some other verses that I don’t remember anymore, but that’s not really important. What is important is that I thought Jesus was a big man like my Father, who just happened to leave me and my family. I can’t say that I ever really liked Jesus back then. Strong or weak, he wasn’t around and that sucked.
It occurs to me now that I was wrong. Perhaps with my limited vocabulary or these simple songs, I couldn’t quite understand the way things were, could be, or are. The church laid some heavy shit on us, precisely when we had the fewest resources to even contemplate it. And in being wrong, I was kind of right – without totally realizing it. At least, right as far as I was concerned.

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Oh the Misogynist Feminist

* Updated * Here, Bob Herbert tells us about the ills of a society that is still full of misogyny. Of course, it’s true – we are a misogynistic people, relegating women to second class positions with second class compensation, etc…. That’s all true.
But I must take umbrage at his characterizations of misogyny. Namely his attack on prostitution. It smacks of the same reasoning that kept the woman at home and out of the gamey and unsightly institutions of the workplace. He calls the prospective customer’s selection process a “humiliating inspection”. Surely no more than having your underwear checked by your Drill Instructor when you join the military. Surely no more than having to send a resume out to 50 firms in the hopes that one of them calls you. Surely no more than having to get as dressed up as you can (dust off the ol’ interview suit) for a humiliating inspection process to make sure you are what the new firm wants. Surely no more humiliating than the same thing every human being goes through just to get by in this society.
These attacks on Pornography and Prostitution are thinly veiled vestiges of the Puritan heritage in America. To suggest that sexual desire is somehow off limits to commercialism is patently stupid. To say it’s simple-minded is simple-minded. In reality, it’s the same kind of Misogyny that he is arguing against. The world we live in requires that we sell what we posses that is in the highest demand. In the case of a technology worker, it’s their knowledge of technology that they sell. In the case of a writer, it’s his creative genius that they sell. In the case of a sex worker, it’s their sex that is sold.

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I am in love with the dead

I am in love with the dead, the dying, everything that is ugly. I dream of the weak and the starving and want them wrapped tightly in my arms until the last sigh of life is squeezed from their frail bodies. I love the wretched, I love the wronged, I love the destroyers of beautiful things and then I love those things they have destroyed. I long for flames at the flower’s base and for broken bottles all throughout the streets. I love all that is wrong and hurt and abused and marginalized – I love the sound of sirens and gun shots and bombs and crying and wailing and more than anything else in the world, I love the sight of a tear against the soft cheeks of usurped innocence.

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Negotiations

Just the other day, I laid with Jesus, and when he was done, we argued over how much he should have to pay. “A son of God ought to catch a break sometimes,” he told me. “A son of a Bitch screws everyone in the end.” I said to him.

I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care …..

I read the papers on the Internet: the New York Times, the Washington Post, the L.A. Times, etc. They report on the current state of the U.S. For the most part, it’s somewhat accurate. They tell me that the Government of that free country is spying and monitoring its people. They say that rights granted by the Government are violated by them. They tell me about the waste and graft that goes on in the halls of Government. They extol the atrocities of war and a Government hell bent on power and control.

Read moreI don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care …..

Soapbox Artist: collecting art & literature of the worst kind