Monday, March 26, 2018

Me, Victim


            Just a few months before my 18th birthday, I was attacked and sexually assaulted by four young men. Each one I knew well enough but I had no idea. Revenge is a dish best served cold, I suppose. Whatever their reasons, the act was violent and involved a relatively intimidating knife, several dozen kicks to the head and a face disfigured by smashing and crushing it into a brick wall. I needed stitches after grabbing the blade and discarding it into the winter snow. There would be no emergency room. There would be nothing but silence and withdrawal and wounds. People were surprised when I refused to identify the assailants and seek justice. I just wanted the entire thing to go away. I fell silent, not because I thought I had done something wrong but rather, it was the shame, the embarrassment that drove me to say nothing and do nothing. A few months after my 35th birthday, history seemed intent on making a point. I don’t know why I didn’t realize something was wrong when he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I let him buy me a drink just to shut him the fuck up. He was standing way too close for comfort and he seemed to know it. I woke up in my car in the middle of the night. It was obvious I had been tampered with. I drove home although it was pretty clear that I should not have. Whatever he slipped me turned me into a spin-doctor of sorts. Round, round she goes. Sitting in my stupor, I just wanted to get back to the safety of our home. I should have taken my partner with me, I should not have gone alone.  I found myself surviving, yet again, all that shame and embarrassment. I just wanted to forget the entire event. Both times, I washed it all away in the shower. Both times, I went on with my life like nothing had happened at all. All these years later and it seems obvious to me. They might as well not have occurred. There is nothing like a good dose of denial.  
            We’re not here for easy. Life is challenging, forever the struggle. Each of us faces our own demons, our own experiences. Most times, it is our own actions that cause most of our suffering. It is usually quite needless. Sometimes, it is the actions of other people that bring chaos and instability to our lives. I have never understood why mortal men strive to alienate each other so. They engage in behaviour that assaults not only the body but also the senses. White men have mostly gone unscathed by history, usually the perpetrator rather than the victim. In particular, race and gender have always been subject to the whims of the men in charge. In recent days, that power and unaccountability seems to be (thankfully) dying with one last breath. The world is changing right before our very eyes. For the first time in history, the voices of the weak and discouraged have finally been heard. From racism, sexism and abuse come the songs of men and women who have been oppressed throughout that history. Whether black or gay or a woman, finally the times are changing. The Civil Rights movement in 1960s America, the Gay Rights movement of the last 40 years, stand beside them now. The fairer sex is no longer confined to that definition. The Me Too crusade has evolved from a struggle to a social movement. All the voices aren’t just voices anymore. Men of guilt are shaking in their shoes, or should I say cod pieces. Their time is up.


            I understand the Me Too movement because I have experienced the same shame and embarrassment women have suffered throughout history. I understand the silence. I understand the pain. I cannot, however, speak for women or on their behalf. I have a penis, and no amount of empathy, no camaraderie can equal the experience of being a woman and what that experience means. It is unique unto itself. I can try to understand but, as a man, I am unable to do anything but relate, just as a woman could only relate to my experiences as a man. We are not the same, no matter what they tell you. It’s one thing to assault someone who can fight back. or at least has a fighting chance. Now, women have that option. They may not be able to defeat your abuse, but once the story has been told, and all the bruises laid, you can be damn sure that your time is up. This is solely dependant on circumstance. There are still victims of abuse and control who do not have the luxury of going to the police. It is not so easy for some. Their hell starts daily. At least, to a degree, they now have an option. People are listening and women have the right to be heard. The things that men have done to their wives, their children, their neighbours leaves one exacerbated. The things we continue to do is rather astounding. The fight for equal pay, job safety and anti-harassment legislation all seem reachable from this new vantage point. There is finally a hope that someday we all may be equal. We may all get along.  It’s no longer a pipe dream.
            It’s interesting to me that many of my male counterparts find the current movement in women’s rights unsettling. They do not understand why the women who have come out to claim abuse took so long to do so. They question the validity of their statements. Other men believe that because they also experienced abuse (sometimes identical) that they should be included in the Me Too campaign. I say, for God’s sake, let them have their moment. Really, haven’t we taken enough? The mission is clear. This is about women standing up against men, not men standing up against men. Get your own club buddy, and take your friends with ya. The dialogue should be about women, not diluted by contrite attempts to remain a victim. It’s been a sad few years. Watching man after man fall from grace, regardless of position or riches, has been interesting to say the least. By their own actions they have condemned themselves. I find it encouraging, the organization of women and the rise of Me Too. I must admit, I am surprised it took so long. I suppose that speaks volumes to the issue. It’s not like we didn’t have Gloria Steinem and the rule of feminism through the last 50 years. Women have come a long way since the 1950s pinup ideals of a suburban housewife. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Me Too movement will do much more than evoke anger and retribution. Instead of trying to fix the past, let us take this opportunity to evoke real change.

“I thought that it was more likely the opposite. I must have shut grief out. Found it in books. Cried over fiction instead of the truth. The truth was unconfined, unadorned. There was no poetic language to it, no yellow butterflies, no epic floods. There wasn’t a town trapped underwater or generations of men with the same name destined to make the same mistakes. The truth was vast enough to drown in.” (We Are Okay, Nina LaCour 2017)

            On January 28th, 1983 and September 16th, 2000, my life changed. Both incidents drove me to a state of being that I maintain to this day. This condition is no longer forced or contrived, rather it has become a natural state, just the way things are. Any other manner seems foreign to me now. The first violation introduced me to the notion of emotional distance and the second reaffirmed it was the only way to be. Had both assaults not occurred, I would not be the man I am today. I have strength, strength enough to talk about it and resolve enough to carry on with each day. Some people do not fare as well in the greater scheme of things. My partner also found himself standing before the judgment of selfish men. He does not hold his experiences as well as I do. They still haunt him all these years later. He has recently started to talk about his experiences in video form, which he posts on YouTube and Facebook. His hope is to expunge his demons. He has chosen to finally stand up rather than continuing to play the victim. He has even attempted to have dialogue with women about this issue. He was sorely condemned. His experiences are irrelevant in a literal sense. He is not a woman (I assure you) and they pointed that fact out with no apologies. He was deeply offended and hurt that his voice didn’t count. The fact that he is a man didn’t matter to him but to women, he just did not belong. The sting of association left marks, I am afraid. His anger has lasted up to this day. This does not negate the fact that he is a man and that his experience is completely different because of that, even if the events are similar.
            When people condemn women for taking 20 years to report a rape or sexual assault, I do not comprehend their ignorance. It is easier to run away and hide than it is to stand up and fight, particularly if you stand alone against the powers that be. The shame and embarrassment is universal. The Me Too movement has given each woman, at least, the opportunity to have a voice. Rise up to your power and cry out in the night. Finally, their voices are being heard. For women, it has always been a constant battle with little conquest. Times are changing. Women are changing. They don’t have to sit back and take it anymore. The Me Too movement has given them a platform to exercise the rights they should have been granted all along. I understand their once apparent silence. I understand the permission they have been given by this social movement. It has empowered them simply by offering release. Men must now take the role of villain, a role which will only change when men change. This is not your planet and you do not have the right to treat other human beings any way you decide. It’s time for accountability and it’s time for social justice. Women have the right to be heard without the convoluted murmur of men who now claim to be the victim. Still, the Me Too movement has little to do with men. We are the antithesis, simply through the whims of nature. No matter how you try to be part of it, you can’t without a vagina.






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Monday, March 19, 2018

Bag of Donuts




“I can breathe for the first time
I can see for the first time
It’s like you opened my eyes
I can feel my heart is coming alive
I feel alive
I can breathe for the first time
For the first time”
(For the First Time, The Afters 2010)


            Sometimes we lose God. We wander off all by our lonesome and then wonder why we feel the way we do. There are many reasons people abandon a spiritual course. Often the experiences we have with anything divine are more than enough, in and of themselves, to chase anyone with even the slightest hint of dignity away. God is a tough road if you don’t know exactly where you are going. Understanding, in any capacity, is a true challenge. Everyone thinks differently, everyone’s relationship with things supernatural is different. I believe, at base, we really are all looking for answers. Answers that we know deep down we will never find. Even people who no longer believe still seek some form of knowledge, they question, they ask. You don’t have to believe in something to study it, to attempt to comprehend what it means. The very idea of a God leaves many wallowing in their own self-pity. Depending on which version of the truth you follow, on any particular day, it appears the primary reason for a divine entity is more take than give. We have little to offer and everything to gain. Every prayer is pleading, every worship an unnecessary lie. No matter our seeking, no matter our intent, our relationship with God, or lack thereof, is determined not through what we are taught, but rather what we think we have been taught. There is a huge difference between the two. Revelation is a subjective experience. We each define our own truth but we also define our own God. Not one person on this planet believes exactly the same as any other person. Religion is like shit in a bag of donuts. It doesn’t matter what you pull out to eat, it’s all just covered in crap.


            Ideas regarding “our” God are constantly changing. Time makes sure of that. What we believed as a child has formed only a foundation, a foundation where often little remains of our initial thinking. What does remain is but a springboard, the basis and reason for why we started out this way. As people grow and develop, so too does their definition of God (or at least it should). As we evolve, anything tangible, anything reassuring, disappears with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. For those who truly seek the truth, it’s like waiting for the Tooth Fairy. Patience and diligence do little good when there is nothing to wait for. As our ideas of God shift and change, our relationship with the divine does as well. Children see Jesus very differently than full-grown adults do. I have never had a 5-year-old threaten me with heaven. Not one child I have encountered ever sentenced me to hell. God is a friendly chap when viewed through the eyes of an innocent. The character of God is much more gentle to someone in kindergarten. It’s kind of sad that we lose touch with this magic. As we learn, our indoctrination steals away our innocence, the quality of our naiveté. Outside forces corrupt us. All the noise hampers the clarity. No one maintains their original ideas of God.  Life is a filter of sorts, straining the silly and the supposed from the reality in which we exist. We put childish ways behind us and are left with only borrowed knowledge. We place our trust in the observations of others when our own observations do not meet the criteria for enlightenment. We erase our past beliefs and trade them for the promises of mortal men. We follow a paper trail, placing our salvation at the feet of the written word. Scripture becomes truth only when we believe it to be. Most 5-year-olds cannot read.

“Or do you not know that wrongdoers will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor men who have sex with men nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. And that is what some of you were. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.” (1 Corinthians 6:9-11, NIV)

            I was raised to believe in the Risen Lord. Jesus and the dogma that comes with Him were the only source of spirituality I was exposed to as a kid. I was raised Christian, my entire religious foundation is Christian. I was a Christian. I was so indoctrinated that I carried a literal interpretation with me deep into my 20s. In my 30s, circumstance matured me. Christianity almost killed me. I believed everything they told me. I believed it was my fault, some punishment from up above. The sins of my Father seemed to haunt me. I believed I was to blame for what had happened so I deserved everything I got, even before I received it. All the reasons just left a bad taste in my mouth. The more I cried out for help, the more I realized how alone I was in my seeking. God was never going to talk to me. God would never help someone like me. Slowly but surely, my relationship with Jesus started its long, cold death. Sometimes, He still puts up a good ole fight. In those times, I find myself looking at God for some sign that I am going the right way. I just don’t seem to tune in to the spirit. I even try to blame luck and serendipity, making this or that much more significant than it really should be. I have ended up all by myself. There are no souls to share this pace nor allies to bear my struggle. This life I have chosen has left me barren, unable most times to feel anything spiritual at all. I long for esoteric ways, for long thought out days under the sky and then the stars. I listen for whispers, hoping there is an answer at the end of the sigh. I want so bad to be whole again but Jesus and the Bible betrayed me years ago. There is no place for a man with my talents, at least not anywhere heaven may be. I won’t burn for being bad, I will burn for being born. It’s hard to find Jesus in all the sulphur and flame.
            There are very few moments in my history where logic and reality have not won out over the paranormal activity I experience. In those few times, I have been carried away on something subtle and succinct. I have never been haunted, not one apparition  has ever appeared to me. I have never been reborn. God has never once come down and tapped on my shoulder. I have never heard voices, no matter how I tried to convince myself that I had.  It’s a lonely space when you give up Grace for nothing. I only know what I experience and sometimes even that isn’t valid enough to reshape my mind. Sometimes all of it is more than I am able to handle. Sometimes I feel possessed. I am overcome with such joy, such peace that the complications of my world fall away in that moment. It is a creeping vine, in rapid growth, soon covering the whole of me. It is a deliberate force, disturbing but soothing in the very same measure. It is no monomania and it is more than I would claim to know. The floodwaters come and they carry me away. It is here that I have to question the few times I have experienced an overcoming. Throughout my lifetime, there may not have been many of these possessions but each turn overwhelmed me completely. It’s like I freeze in the flow of something. My religious upbringing tells me these experiences are with the Holy Spirit and not my sensitive side. If I am overcome, it is God who turns the tide. No matter how I wish it all away. No matter how I want to not believe it, it still happens, even if on rare occasions. I don’t have to be forewarned to sense it. I don’t have to believe in anything to feel it. In that moment, I just close my eyes and I know it. It is within me.
            I don’t believe for a second that the Holy Spirit comes down to earth, then Google maps my location and fills me with the Love of God. Why would it inhabit a sinner such as me? As a confirmed abomination, I am sure this vessel is the last place the Holy Ghost would want to visit. I am not claiming to be gauche. Ask any good Christian folk, they will confirm what I am saying. This is one of the reasons I don’t associate with most Christians. No matter how much mercy and forgiveness is allotted to me, I cannot forget what I am and the person I have turned out to be. Someone is always available to remind me, just in case. I rarely let them see me writhe in my unrighteousness. There are two of me, I suppose. Part of me wants the truth and part of me just wants to fit in. I want to fall under Grace, to know the power of God’s love for me but I just can’t seem to find any. I am not in an exclusive club either. There are millions of people who face the same struggle, day after day, week after week, year after year into forever. The more believers tell me that I rest under the blanket of Christ’s sacrifice, the more I point out that I never can be, not according to the rules set down in the Old and New Testaments. I cannot change into something I am not. Trust me, I have tried, more than once. In spite of these attempts, I remain exactly the same as when I surrendered. I have begged to be free and made worthy but I got nothing.  It is clear, in a literal sense, that the Judeo-Christian God wants nothing to do with me. I deserve to die and my own blood is upon me.

“If a man has sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable. They are to be put to death; their blood will be on their own heads.” (Leviticus 20:13, NIV)

            Being that I am not much for public displays of emotion, I am often misunderstood as a cold and unfeeling person. This is just not so. I hold my feelings in much higher regard than one would imagine. They run deep and are often savage and unpredictable. I guess I am like most people that way. I preserve and protect in the face of the world around me. I don’t give my emotions away, I hold them dear. Quite often it is a challenge to not freeze over completely. Life is easier as an ice cube. Regardless of my refrigeration, benignancy is my mantra. I strive to live out my days following this creed and mission statement. Be kind. Always be kind and just when you think you can’t, be kind some more. You would think this would act as a summons, that anything paranormal would take notice. I guess that God simply doesn’t work that way.  Granted, I have always been a bit of an asshole. Spending a lifetime recognizing how much God hates you tends to do that to a person. I’m not blaming God, just Jesus. Perhaps, along the way, I merely polished up. Inside I am still that curious blond boy begging for morsels. I wish someone had told me it was all for naught. 40-plus years later and I am still hungry. Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do about my sentence. The Holy Scriptures are quite clear. There are not many ways to escape this truth, there is really no other interpretation. I was born into sin and raised in sin, regardless of the love my parents had for each other. How does one erase your genetics? I suppose I have been given over to unnatural lust and disgraceful acts, rather than some indwelling. Again, I won’t burn for being bad, I will burn for being born.

“God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural sexual relations for unnatural ones. In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed shameful acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their error. “
(Romans 1:26-27, NIV)
           
            I was just standing there, staring out the window, watching the critters who feed in my side yard. It was a cloudy, cold January morning. There was really nothing to speak of besides the birds and the squirrels. The absence of chipmunks only convinced me they were hibernating. It was not spring, not yet. A flock of sparrows, fifty at least, jumped from the skeleton of our trumpet vine to the feeders which dangle right across from my view. Such  simple observations can make my day. I am often carried away, enchanted. There is a soothing quality when communing with nature. I watch them watching me. There is little peace for me in this life but these moments seem to make it all worthwhile. I stood there quietly listening to nothing at all. Somewhere in that moment, something crossed over in me. It started out small then like a crescendo it grew and it grew even more. I was overcome, in a manner of speaking. I had been in this place a few times before so I was ready enough to absorb what was happening. It filled me, not so much with emotions but an energy, a sense of power within. I could tell that it was encompassing, each digit tingled, my skin was set aflame. From deep inside it appeared, it started out quiet then it switched over to song. It was heavenly, floating in the ether, dancing with the light. Once again, it did not make sense to me. It never really had when it happened in the past. If God hates me so, if I truly am an abomination in His eyes, then why won’t he just leave me alone?

“Light up the sky
You light up the sky to show me
You are with me
I can’t deny, no I can’t deny
That you are right here with me
You’ve opened my eyes
So I can see you all around me
Light up the sky
You light up the sky to show me
That you are with me.”
(Light Up The Sky, The Afters 2010)









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Monday, March 12, 2018

Wounds







            I am an illustrated man. From head to toe, my scars define me. Each one tells a story, pinpointed not with words but in display. It is not difficult to find them. All you really have to do is take the time to look. They stand for themselves, ever present even though so much time has passed. Most have deepened, blending in the eventual bliss. They have become old friends, always there when you seek them out. They are constant, transparent and deliberate at base. They even tend to mock me. They are in my face reminders of how things used to be. They are very specific. The tale each conveys is distinct, unto itself. Awareness of them can be a considerable challenge on my sadder days. They are stark at times, almost calculated as if part of some map. Follow the pain and they always remain. At times, they are embraced, representational, landmarks born on my journey. They notarize just how I made it through. At other times, they are heavy, pulling me back, so far back. They are more than just connected to my memory. They are a tactile revelation. Scars are remnants, little pieces, sometimes large, that rarely ever fade away. You can touch them. You can see them.
            Within 24 hours of my birth, I was covered in marks. One of the first things they did to me was snip my cord and tie me off. To this day, it has always looked the same. I am an innie, not an outtie. I came with more than birthmarks. I could show you my bar mitzvah scar. From the start, I was damaged goods. I still hold that they must serve some purpose, I am just not so sure what that is. They are older than my teeth and younger than my tongue. I may not relive each experience, I was barely alive. I am told I almost left the match before I started fighting. Fight I did, and I have the marks to prove it. Had I not survived, there would be nothing left to heal. At 3 years old, I was a little shit. I wasn’t malicious or nasty about it, I just got myself into constant trouble. I wanted it my way almost from the very start. When my brothers got a hockey board for Christmas, and not me, I was pissed. This wasn’t some cheap plastic play set but rather the real deal, with metal men and shooting action. It was an official NHL product. I tried to crush it like any spoiled brat would. I huffed and puffed and attacked with my right foot. Those metal hockey men were as sharp as razors. They cut through the bottom of me like I was brie cheese on a warm summer day. I am told there was much blood and the gnashing of teeth. They rejuvenated me. They fixed it right up except for the thin little scar tissue that ripples at the bottom of my leg. I can barely see them now but they are still there. They always have been, as far as I am concerned.
            The mark from one of the canines left a permanent monument to one of my greatest childhood fears. At the base of my right thumb it remarkably remains. It is highly visible, somewhat pronounced and an interesting catalyst for conversation at small wine and cheese parties. It was an Irish Setter that did the deed. He gnarled my hand like one of those doggie toys. He shook me in, he shook me out, he even yanked me all about. It was like the beginning of my own little nightmare as he chewed to the bone, then ran away. Unfortunately, his saliva did much more damage. This was not the best time to learn I was allergic to the stuff. My arm swelled up red like the balloon from Stephen King’s IT. As I sat screaming in the Emergency room, puss started oozing from the entry wound. It eventually sealed itself up and therein marks the spot. The 400-pound steam radiator was left at the top of the stairs by my brother Phillip. I only nicked it as I passed to go downstairs. We fell together in some sick harmony. I was pummelled against the wall all the way down, a split pipe ripping open my backside. It landed on me, full force, dead weight, embedding itself on my left foot. It toppled on the rest of me. 6 months later and the scar started to heal. Everything had been crushed, everything had been squished like the last donut at the bottom of the bag. The skin graft has always looked quite nasty. 40 years later and I still have a slice of my ass where the rest of my foot should be. I have a high tolerance for pain. This scar, it healed me strong. It has lightened and blended into me like most scars will do. It is a constant reminder for me of pain and anguish and the randomness of this life we all lead. I can remember every moment as if it were happening now. When I forget, all I have to do is look down.
            If you pay close attention to my skin, you will notice little white scars all over my hands and arms. They are pock marks, left from burning off warts, warts gained by falling into a cesspool. I hardly notice them at all. Funny how some scars mean more than others. Funny how we assign importance to the marks we gain through life. I pulled the knife away from him. It sliced through my three middle fingers like that brie I left sitting out earlier. I secured the weapon. I should have gotten stitches but my threshold for pain made me stoic. It left a nasty cicatrix from finger to finger to finger. I have always been prone to accidents. I have always managed to walk right into them. My head looks like a Pollack piece, some abstract expressionist painting. Over the years, I have walked into things, smashed into things and met many a corner of this shelf or that cupboard. If dents are a sign of duration, I am in for the long haul. You can see them, notice them, even if you are not trying to. Some of the scars on my head are clearly defined, they look more like a mole than a hole in the top of my noggin. You can feel them, like Braille. They tell a tale of accident prone and little else.
            My paternal Grandparents’ home has a long narrow staircase leading to the second floor. I whipped around it to see what my brother was doing. The dart entered me as easy as pie, considering the distance down the flight of stairs and the momentum it was tossed at. It stuck dead into the ball of my nose. I had to tug on it hard to get it out. It left a small but noticeable mark, like a tiny little bump where the hole used to be. I fear it may someday start glowing like Rudolph’s might do. During my morphine addiction, I snapped off a syringe needle while trying to find a virgin area to shoot up. Under my right arm was just the ticket. I had to use tweezers to squeeze it out. The inch long ridge of raised flesh feels more like a bead beneath my skin than scar tissue. I run across it every time I shower. There are bits and pieces missing from me. A chunk of me here and a chunk of me there, from cats and rats and other things. I can play connect the dots with almost every part of my body. There is a fading indent on my forehead, from crashing my bike, and the square patch of my ass that stays white even in the summer sun. Skin grafts will do that, they say. In relation, there is a faint but tangible line down the middle of my back from when I hit that pipe on the way down those stairs. I have two holes in my left ear from piercings I had done in the 1980s. They have never really closed up even after 30 years not using them. Some scars we make ourselves, we are responsible. Sometimes life and other people do the deed for us. Cut and paste, so to speak. Most notable, most worthy, is the 2-inch slash on my left wrist I made during a decision to die. It was a bloody mess. It left me a touchstone, the one thing I can turn to in times of pain and struggle. It tells the whole story in 5 centimetres of flesh. It is a constant reminder, right in my face, that this too shall pass, whether you want it to or not.
            No matter how much time has passed, I continue to be accident prone. It just comes naturally for me. It can seem unending. Last year, I tripped on one of my cats while heading up the stairs to the second floor. I smashed face first into one of the landing walls. One of my canines flew out of my mouth and across the floor. The other upper canine had to be later removed because it cracked in half. If not for very expensive dentures, you could see quite clearly the worst scars of all. I sometimes feel like I belong in the movie Deliverance, plucking on my banjo while chewing on a blade of this or that. Finally, I now fit in at every Wal-Mart. I think I look like I belong in every dollar store in my area. I have great resolve in accepting my fate but ever since this incident, I have felt shame and embarrassment and a sense of surrender. I have stopped trying to consciously avoid further drama. The evitable is nothing if not inevitable. I figure, if I make it to year 70, I will be nothing but one giant pile of scar tissue. My life has been nothing if not a crash up derby. Here comes another ding, another rip, another pock. Who knows what might happen next?
            I think that most people would agree, life can often be a burden to bear. I often feel like Job but without all that righteousness. All the pain, all the agony, all the confusion collects up like rainwater would. Something always comes along to refresh the pond so we need not linger in all the puddles. We linger anyway. Throughout those lives we accumulate memories, we accumulate people and we accumulate scars. The scars we bear, they define us, they demonstrate, they mark the moment. Sometimes they are easy to hide and at others times there is nothing we can do but try to cover them up. I am not even sure that they mean something in the greater scheme of it all. I suppose that sometimes a knife is just a knife, flying glass simply that as well. As I look over myself and see all the damage that living has done to my body, I am compelled to say I am used to it. Not even the site of my blood bothers me anymore. I am used to this continuing cycle, going through life one chunk at a time. I half expect that these events will continue. They always have. They keep coming and I keep making a place for them. I collect comic books, Marvin the Martian memorabilia and, apparently, wounds.     





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Paris, Ontario
Winter 2017

Monday, March 5, 2018

Screwed


            It’s important to believe in something. Having faith is a constructive process if used correctly. Whether with the Buddha or Jesus or Zarathustra, having security in something beyond yourself can be a grounding experience. This, by no means, is the end of it. It is not who or what you worship that matters, it’s that you worship that counts. Having something to believe in can make for a better life, or at least a better day. It’s not that there are any real differences from faith structure to faith structure. The foundation and basic tenets of each religion, or belief, vary only in the commentary. It all comes from the same place but we define it on our terms so that we may relate and then understand. At least, that’s how it is supposed to happen. Unfortunately, we pay all our attention to the commentary and disregard the commonalities or any “golden rule” completely. We focus all our effort on the messenger and we change the message to suit ourselves. We do not even heed the various warnings our own Savoir has to offer on the matter. We don’t love God because He first loved us, we love God for what He can offer us. We pray but it is shallow and selfish and constructed all from the ego. We think we hold God’s favour because we follow along, but we pick and choose like a dog with two bones. We want it all but we don’t want to have to do any work to get it. Most people are entitled Salvationists. They walk around thinking they are right, and therefore justified, even if their validation is completely false and misleading. It’s strange how people are so sure they have the answers but fail to demonstrate the truth through their actions rather than simply with all those words. Blah blah blah. If God is for all of us then what sense is there in focusing on the variables rather than embracing the common threads? If God is for all, then who are we to question? If God is for all, then the commentary we carry with us means nothing and is nothing.


            Jared was a good Jew. He practiced the tenets of his faith and tried his best to serve the God he believed in. He died an easier death. In less than a heartbeat he hit the floor, and never saw it coming. He was gone in an instant, the victim of a bad diet and no exercise. The 7-8 cigars a day only quickened the death. The transition seemed faster than his passing. When he met Jesus at the pearly gates, it was all for naught. It was apparent that Jared was not the only soul without redemption. The lineup heading for torment went on and on, far past the place. The end of the line was the beginning of his punishment. It mattered little that Jared spent his life following the Hebrew God. It didn’t matter his philanthropy, his charity. It didn’t matter that he followed the same set of instructions everybody else has the option of knowing. Jesus would not let him in. He did not know Jared so he sent him off to his doom. Off to hell he was sent because he didn’t serve this Messiah. Off with his head for not believing. After all, Jared had his entire life to accept the Christ as the one true God. He had heard the message, over and over, but he paid it no heed. Now came the time to pay the price. He was not alone. All that waiting for hell was much longer than he had expected. There was little discrimination in this delay. The faces of the condemned were as varied as the reasons for them being there. Every Muslim, every Buddhist, every soul not connected to literal Christianity bore the scars now, for ever and ever.

            I grew up trained to serve Jesus. From my early years in Sunday School to altar call after altar call as a teenager, the risen Christ was my Lord and my Saviour. Everything in my life was filtered through the literal interpretation claimed in the Holy Scriptures. Without Jesus I was doomed. If I did not qualify for salvation, He would send me off to the burning pit saved for Lucifer and all his dark angels. There was no other way into heaven but through Him. He stands like a celestial doorman, checking your identification to see if you are on the list. It doesn’t matter your excuses, if your name is not in the Book of Life, then you can’t get in. Only loyalty to Jesus welcomes you. There was absolutely no other way. It was ingrained in me that any other manner or pathway to redemption was irrelevant and without substance. Evil dwells in these distractions. Jesus was the door and believing in Him was the key. One had to change spiritually, a rebirth was required of each and every soul. Any other means than “The Way” was blasphemous, idolatrous, and placed any foolish disbeliever into eternal torment. I never realized the complete futility of following a guide to heaven. Every person is different, we all believe differently even if we follow the same set of standards. None of this really mattered to me, I knew I was disposable. Even though I was constantly informed that Jesus did not want me, I still stood behind Him and His teachings. This created a huge problem for me. As a homosexual, it didn’t matter what I practiced or how hard I tried to follow along, my salvation was already null and void. Just the act of being was my sentence. No matter my surrender, no matter how completely I attempted to secure His favour, the fact that I remained a sodomite, regardless of whether I wanted to be or not, determined my fate. Even wishing it away meant nothing. I was born unwanted. I grew up rejected. There was no way home for me.

            Every once in awhile, Jared would look past the misery and stare upward, searching for his very own heaven. If only He had chosen the right direction. If only he was given the choice now instead of just then. It was a dry heat. It did not suffocate him in spite of his temporal coil. He melted over and over again. Every moment of his eternity was vulgar fire and heat and flame. He never got used to it. Each time was as painful and a constant reminder of what he had failed to do in life. Every passing of every moment was a trap inside of itself. He could not escape the voices or the flashes or the guilt. In rapid motion, everything played over and over again. Like a loop, there was never a break in it. It played and it played and then it played much more. Like a never ending drone of grief and anger and torture, it went on and on and on. There was no forgiveness here. Only abandon met the many. Tossed into a storm of hopelessness, Jared screamed in grand display. Nothing could quench the fire. Therein maggots did not die in the same repose. It was unceasing, an otherland of ash and gloom and despair. There was the gnashing of teeth, in one accord, lasting forever and forever. Jared knew that he had received that which he had paid for. You get what you give. It was his own doing that brought him to this place for all time. He just never thought there was anything wrong with not worshipping Jesus. Had he known. He did know. He had heard the message, the gospel truth, like any good North American boy would. He had consciously chosen to stay in his own yard. Many found themselves in the same condition. There were even children here in this abyss. Each one screamed the same scream as the one before. It was a choir of agony, a choral arrangement, literally from hell. With little option, and no choice, Jared often joined in the singing.

            When I am alone with myself, it is like a safe harbour but sometimes I am stormed by rough seas. I am carried away with ideas, usually just before I sleep. I think about all the possibilities, all the options one has when living a spiritual life. As I float away on that cheerful note, I quickly realize such thinking simply seals my fate. I no longer believe that God needed a sacrifice to unify mankind to Him. I don’t believe in the virgin birth, nor do I believe that Jesus was God manifested in human form. I very much doubt most of the Bible and even more within the New Testament. I find myself bound to follow but in a different kind of way. As I close my eyes to dream each night, I do not see streets of gold or the risen Lord. I do not fear eternal damnation nor do I believe a place was created for all the bad little people to singe for all time. I am prepared to face my maker. I am ready to be held accountable. For me, if the Judeo-Christian Godhead is reality, then there is nothing I can do about my future position. Regardless, I was ill-fated right out the womb. My life has been for nothing and with certainty I am going to burn. It doesn’t matter that my nature is in harmony with much of Christian thinking. It doesn’t matter that I have seen the way or know how to follow it. I was conceived in sin, and raised in sin (regardless of the love of my parents) and I will die in sin, no matter any claims of mercy once made on paper.

            I still suffer at the absolute audacity of the Christian God. I also have visions of a world where we are all equal in God’s eyes and treated accordingly. As a mere mortal, I hold God to a higher standard than mere mortal. I have to question whether the flames are real. There is a part of me often afraid that I no longer have Jesus in my back pocket. He doesn’t know me anymore, I suppose. Sometimes I can feel the flickers of doom, licking at my feet. I fear I am to be consumed. So you try to imagine if God was different, if people were different, if you were different. After all these years, there are still times when Jesus makes me ashamed of my sexual orientation. I am a filthy abomination and I need to be destroyed. I’m screwed. I can turn away from my sin and lead a different life. I can fall into as much Glory as I would like to. I can be born again and again and again. It doesn’t matter. You cannot escape the reality of what you are (at least in Christian terms).
I can choose to not give in to temptation. I can lead the life of a eunuch. It’s all irrelevant. 
I am not saved by grace but rather, condemned by it.



Photo

https://www.zerohedge.com/news/2017-12-21/who-getting-screwed-hardest