Where No Law Is

"For where no law is, there is no transgression"
(Romans 4:15)
Words on paper exist. People in blue uniforms with guns and truncheons and cars with flashing lights exist. People in black robes with funny little wooden mallets exist. Cages exist.

If you do not follow the words on the paper, someone with a blue uniform will take you, in their flashing light car, to put you in a cage until someone with a black robe figures out what to do with you.

And yet I say to you, that law does not exist.

Nuns Are Crap

Nuns are crap.

I'm just going to pause and let you digest that. I can hear your brain cells -- both of them -- starting to rub against one another and create the thought of protest or outrage. Kindly leave such thoughts to yourself and hear me out.

I realize we've all of us, in this culture -- and not just the Catholics, neither -- been programmed to think of nuns as being somehow better human beings or something. It's never something that's put in words exactly but it is definitely something we wind up internalizing somewhere along the way.

And why? Nuns are like the most worthless people on the planet. They provide nothing, they create nothing, they contribute nothing. They pay no taxes. Their life-giving wombs are denied use by their vows of chastity so they don't even manage to put new humans here. Nothing. They just wear their funny outfits and they believe their quaint myths and they expect the rest of us to treat them as special because they took some vows to their made up god and dress up like penguins.

Anyone else was such a gigantic waste of space and resources and air and they would be seen as dead beat degenerate scum, it's not even a question. But all of a sudden they're part of some freaky cult and it's okay?

Nuns are crap. That's my word.

A Degenerate Rush (2003)

Have enough and soon it shifts to absurd
Senses drift and merge
I guess it's best to rest a bit
Repetitious
Reminiscent
of a record skip
Deja vu jackhammer
Happened all before
Then the narrative is lost in the roar
Come to sprawled across the floor
And that's end of the trip

A Mad Bastard Language: My Love For English

English is a crazy language, but I love it.

It's a mad bastard language; a cobbling together of Germanic Anglo-Saxon syntax as a skeleton but with vocabulary from EVERYWHERE. Mostly the words were stolen from various Romance languages but English words literally come from all over. So there's no standardized phonetic spelling, half the verbs are conjugated irregularly, and because of its rich heritage and theft of other languages there are like eighteen terms for any one concept and it's hard to express the differences. Or there's a word like "set" that seriously means like 47 different things depending on the context it is used in.

There's simply no other language like it. There's others that are perhaps equally mad in their own right, but none mad the way that English is mad. English is mad like some patchwork Frankenstein monster that is at the same time beautiful and vulgar.

Also? I love English because English was the language of a forgotten, beaten and defeated people. So downtrodden that the Anglo-Saxon terms for simple bodily functions were deemed "bad" words (fuck, shit, piss) while their Latin-based counterparts (fornicate, defecate, urinate) were made acceptable. The English people at one point were ruled by people that spoke French. The English king didn't even speak English. That's low.

Today? EVERYONE speaks English. Or thinks they do. So all the haters back then AND now can eat a dick. Or, if that's bad words, "consume a phallus."

Violence Is Not The Answer

An act of violence creates a situation for which the easiest, most natural, and most often response is another act of violence. But two wrongs do not make a right. One and one do not make zero, they make two. The responding act of violence also creates a situation for which the easiest, most natural, and most often response is yet another act of violence. Which would itself in turn create a situation for which the easiest most natural dot dot dot. You have probably heard of this looping dance of action and reaction before. It is called "the cycle of violence." The inevitable outcome of the cycle of violence, carried through to its logical conclusion, is violence for all. Maximum destruction with minimum creation. It's what Gandhi foresaw when he said that an eye for an eye would leave everyone blind. The only way to end this cycle is to absorb it when it comes your way and not pass it along further. When someone slaps your cheek, turn to them your other cheek as well. That's a pretty bold concept. So bold that when Jesus tried to tell everyone about it back in the day, they responded... with violence. Forgive them for they know not what they do, and try not to add to the mess. Violence is not the answer.