AUGUST 2014

 

Paris would look like this with a Warwich, England, rowing team

(The Warwich Rowers create a hot annual calendar donating the 

proceeds to Sport Allies to combat bullying and homophobia.)

 

Thoughts for the Month

 

“If you can't explain it to a six year old, you don't understand it yourself.” 

 

“The difference between genius and stupidity is:  genius has its limits.” 

 

“Once you can accept the universe as matter expanding into nothing that is something, wearing stripes with plaid comes easy.” 

 

Albert Einstein

 

 

31

 

Nightmare on Facebook

 

Ann was a big fan of Facebook. Everyday she would tell her friends about every little thing that was happening in her life from the moment she got up until just before bedtime. She would post pictures of her dog, her little brother, family vacations and all her friends at school. She was so happy when people “like’d” what she posted because she wanted to be the most popular girl on Facebook. Ann, who was only a sophomore, was invited to the prom by the best-looking senior at school, Jimmy Fuchs. The day after the prom Ann posted a selfie from her big night. She was so proud of the picture showing her new pink gown and her new hairdo from Mr. Marcel and most of all, the beautiful, jewel encrusted gold bracelet that Jimmy bought her just for the prom. Ann smiled as she closed out her FaceBook page and admired her lovely new bracelet. She was the happiest girl in the world. Meanwhile, her best friends, Brenda, Marcy and Suzy, began to comment on the photo as posted in the following thread.

 

 

Brenda:  Ann is so lucky to go to the prom with Jimmy.

 

Marcy:    I am soooooo jealous.

 

Suzy:      Look at that beautiful bracelet.

 

Brenda:   It kinda looks a little cheap to me. LOL!

 

Marcy:     I think Jimmy made it from one of those costume jewelry kits!

 

Suzy:      LOL!  I think he bought it at Walmart.

 

Brenda:   I heard he stole it from a homeless woman. LOL!

 

Marcy:    That’s strange. I just read about a homeless woman getting robbed.

 

Suzy:      OMG!  Ann is wearing homeless jewelry!!! LOL!

 

Brenda:   LMAO! Maybe Jimmy is homeless and lives in an old beat-up car.

 

Marcy:    Maybe Jimmy’s mother is homeless and he stole it from her.

 

Suzy:      Well, you know, I’ve smelled B.O. on Jimmy. Maybe he can’t afford 

              soap or deodorant. LOL!

 

Brenda:   I heard his family is from Mississippi. They’re all poor there.

 

Marcy:     I wonder if he smells when he’s kissing Ann. LMAO!

 

Suzy:      Ann had her nose fixed a couple of years ago and she might not be 

              able to smell anything.

 

Brenda:   LMFAO! You know she didn’t say anything about that to me but I 

              thought something was different.

 

Marcy:    Well, she never talks about what her father does, either. She just says 

              that he works for the government but who knows what that means.

 

Suzy:      I had a friend once whose father worked for the government and 

              later we found out that he worked for the CIA.

 

Brenda:   I wonder if we’re being recorded when we go to her house? LOL.

 

Marcy:     She does have all the latest smart products.

 

Suzy:      Maybe we should stay away from Ann and her family.

 

Brenda:   I’m not sure but all this talk is making me nervous.

 

Marcy:     I think we better stay away from her until we find out more.

 

Suzy:      We can’t take the chance that we’re being watched by the CIA every 

               time we go to her house.

 

Brenda:    So what are you guys wearing to school tomorrow? 

 

Marcy:     I’m not sure yet. Let’s meet at Starbucks in fifteen minutes and 

               hang out.

 

Suzy:      See you there.

 

Brenda:   Me, too.

 

 

Ann saw that she had emails. Her three best friends had "like'd" and commented on her photo. She quickly opened her Facebook page and began to read the thread under her cherished photo. Suddenly, she welled up, tears began to fall turning into sobs and finally into anguished weeping. After several minutes the tears subsided and a seething rage built up inside her. She would go to Starbucks and confront them. She passed through the kitchen and headed out the front door.

 

Starbucks was just a ten minute walk from Ann's house. As she approached the coffee shop she could see her three best friends seated at a small table, laughing. The girls did not see Ann enter and as she approached the table, Brenda screamed while Marcy and Suzy sat dumbstruck. Brandishing a ten-inch carving knife, Ann stabbed each girl repeatedly until a river of blood covered the white, tiled floor. The baristas and the other patrons ran out of the coffee shop in a panic.

 

Ann was tried as an adult and received three consecutive life sentences. She is currently incarcerated at a women’s prison in rural Mississippi. Facebook amended its privacy policy with an option not to allow comments on posted photographs.

 

29

 

Sabbath Sermonette

 

“Capitalism is the astounding belief that the most wickedest of men will do the most wickedest of things for the greatest good of everyone.”

John Maynard Keynes

 

 

Jeudi rapidE

 

I am having difficulty deciding between reading the news and maintaining a sense of humor. Together they seem to cancel each other out. Between the seemingly crazy and violent muslims of ISIS and the hateful and homophobic christians both in the states and around the world, the news is causing my comedic edge to become sharper and sharper. As a result, my anti-religious zeal has been maintaining at full tilt. As soon as I can earn pay for my literary wit -- thanks to a endless supply of material -- I will be in that "heaven" we hear tell about! So, last night at Culture Rapide, I gave full rein to anger, disgust, and sarcasm with a new piece entitled "Psalm DCLXVI."

 

Psalm DCLXVI

 

5000 years of god-ism

devising inexplicable beliefs

embracing the familial credos

without question or concern

 

three billion in poverty

900 million lacking food

one billion without clean water

500 million homeless

your god is cruel

 

unreasonable muslims

seeking world dominion

by any means necessary

for a violent mohammed

chosen by god

unreasonable christians

promoting death for alleged sins

ignoring basic needs

in honor of jesus 

chosen by god

unreasonable jews

with pretenses of exclusivity

calling Leviticus sacred

an maintaining circumcision 

as commanded by abraham

chosen by god

unreasonable hindus

a legion of gods

incarnate again and again

castes denoting social order

chosen by Vishnu

 

string and relativity are theorized

higgs boson is discovered

light years proliferate

while the masses 

kill, rape, torture

in contrived righteousness

ignoring reality

for adoration of absurdity

a god of love?

killing his people

wasting away his children

poisoning his earth

this is love?

 

so continue with 

your beliefs

ignore reason

end the world for

your heaven

your savior

your tribe

your deities

 

do not complain

if you abhor the results

of your decisions

starvation is your choice

thirst is what you want

pollution is your gift

war guarantees heaven

disease pays homage to your god

take responsibility

for your convictions

silence equals death

blame yourselves for

embracing folly.

 

25

 

MAGICAL MIRACLES

 

I had intended to find some hateful comments that I regularly see on articles about gay marriage that are posted on Yahoo! and include them under my feature called Nefarious News. However, as I was looking at an article about the Supreme Court delaying gay marriage in Virginia, I started to see more gay-positive comments -- not usually the case from Yahoo! commenters. I found the following comment which is a quote from Mary Griffin whose gay son committed suicide. She went on to write a book about him called "Prayers for Bobby" which was later made into a TV movie. I found it to be very encouraging that someone would post it.  The times they are a-changin'! It also reminded my of a song that says "be careful of what you say, children will listen." Some lessons are only learned the hard way.

 

 

 

22

 

Sabbath Sermonette

 

“People who treat other people as less than human must not be surprised when the bread they have cast on the waters comes floating back to them, poisoned.”

James Baldwin

 

Jeudi rapidE

 

I intended to write a funny, satiric piece for Thursday's open mic but the whole situation in Ferguson, Missouri, put a cramp in my funny bone this week. Instead, I read two poems by Essex Hemphill, a gay, African-American poet from Washington, DC. He published many of his poems in a book entitled Ceremonies which was well-received. Sadly, he died in 1995 at the age of 38 from complications due to AIDS. Two of Essex Hemphill's poems, "Family Jewels" and "American Wedding" are posted below.

 

Family Jewels

 for Washington D.C.

I live in a town

where pretense and bone structure

prevail as credentials

of status and beauty.

A town bewitched

by mirrors, horoscopes

and corruption.

 

I intrude on this nightmare.

Arm outstretched from curbside.

I'm not pointing to Zimbabwe.

I want a cab

to take me to Southeast

so I can visit my mother.

I'm not ashamed to cross

the bridge that takes me there.

 

No matter where I live

or what I wear

the cabs speed by.

Or they suddenly brake

a few feet away

spewing fumes in my face

to serve a fair skinned fare.

I live in a town

where everyone is afraid

of the dark.

I stand my ground unarmed

facing a mounting disrespect,

a diminishing patience,

a need for defense.

 

In passing headlights

I appear to be a criminal.

I'm a weird looking muthafucka.

Shaggy green hair sprouts all over me.                    

My shoulders hunch and bulge. I growl

as blood drips from my glinting fangs.

 

My mother's flowers are wilting

while I wait.

Our dinner

is cold by now.

 

I live in a town

where pretense and structure

are devices of cruelty.

A town bewitched

by mirrors, horoscopes

and blood.                                 American Wedding

 

In america,

I place my ring

on your cock

where it belongs.

No horsemen

bearing terror,

no soldiers of doom

will swoop in

and sweep us apart.

They’re too busy

looting the land

to watch us.

They don’t know

we need each other

critically.

They expect us to call in sick,

watch television all night,

die by our own hands.

They don’t know

we are becoming powerful.

Every time we kiss

we confirm the new world coming.

 

What the rose whispers

before blooming

I vow to you.

I give you my heart,

a safe house.

I give you promises other than

milk, honey, liberty.

I assume you will always

be a free man with a dream.

In america,

place your ring

on my cock

where it belongs.

Long may we live

to free this dream.

 

20

 

 

18

 

Trysts and Travails

 

Permit to elaborate on my love of Paris. I went to a potluck tonight with about 20 or so guests. The people I have met so far are smart, artistically talented and very friendly. Perhaps it’s the camaraderie of the expats or maybe they're just nice people! I also had a lovely conversation with a French woman who is dating an American guy. She was quite complimentary about my ability to speak French. I feel very much at home here and I am determined to stay for the long term, however that may look.  I am currently involved in a one-act play to be performed at the end of November and I also plan to be in a one-act written by the guy for whom I have acted twice in his productions. Additionally, I will be involved in a short film which will be shot at the end of September before I return for my nephew’s wedding in the first week of October. After I sublet my apartment I shall return here. For the first time in a very long time, I am happy. Paris fits me like a glove and it's a nice feeling. Stay tuned for a new satiric piece to be performed on Thursday at Culture Rapide.

 

N.B. I just learned that proper typography dictates that one use only one space after a period. I have been using two spaces for as long as I can remember. Oh well, I guess I have to be wrong once every ten years or so!

 

 

17

 

Trysts and Travails

 

My friend George who currently lives in Boston, visited Paris for three days this past week. We must have walked at least six miles or more each day. It took me two days to recover! I met George in Washington, DC, and we have been friends for almost thirty years.  He is from Boston and moved back there last year to take care of his elderly mother. Most likely, he will move back to DC after she passes (she is in her 90s.) George is six years older than I and while he was here, it finally registered that he is at a very different point in life than I am. He has been retired for several years after a successful career in real estate. For all intents and purposes, I am just starting my artistic (writing, acting) career and finally living in a city that was a dream for many years. I finally came to the realization that everyone really is on their own “path" and I cannot try to follow any path except my own. Though some think I’m a little nuts for living in Paris and some seem to think that I am on an extended “vacation,” I know that this is the right place for me and, hopefully, the right time. Even though I am fifty-six, I don’t feel a day over twenty-two and I still feel the excitement that a young adult feels when first visiting Paris! While Washington, DC, has been good to me over the years, I can’t imagine spending much more time there. It does not support the life that I want. I admit that I am late in pursuing my vocational interests but I am also aware that for many years I have lived my life based on the criteria of other people. At least now, should I fail at my endeavors, I know that I did the best that I could given my experiences. Of course, I have failed enough through the years not to let it upset me too much or throw me off course. I refuse to be unhappy for whatever amount of years I have left. Paris is the first city where I feel completely at home — like I belong — for the first time in my life. George was enraptured by the city — his last visit was over forty years ago. I think he understands why I love living here. For me, that was just one more confirmation that I made the right decision.

 

15

 

Sabbath Sermonette

 

"No matter what people tell you, words and ideas can change the world."
"We had gay burglars the other night. They broke in and rearranged the furniture."

"Only in their dreams, can men truly be free.  It was always thus will be."
Robin Williams

 

14

 

Jeudi rapidE

 

My friend, George from Boston has been in town for the last three days and we have been walking, walking, and walking more. I am exhausted. More on our activities later. We went to Culture Rapide tonight although George has virtually no interest in poetry or other writings. Tonight I read a poem in honor of Robin Williams whose death on Monday had a worldwide impact of sadness.

 

Dead Poet or A Lesson in Comedy

 

Mr. Webster says

a poet is a person

with special powers 

of imagination, expression

 

"You only get a spark of madness,

lose that, you’re nothing."

The moon like a testicle hangs

low in the sky."

 

Lunacy takes its toll

Manic highs, profound despair

Tears of the clown

Dissolve the facade

 

"If women ran the world 

we would have no wars, 

just intense negotiations 

every 28 days."

 

Battling with demons

Self-medication

Extreme behavior

coupled with empathy

 

"Mind not my words — 

Let the play be the thing. 

I'll get back forth and

touch myself anon."

 

Always on stage

inhaling the applause

like oxygen

for a broken spirit

 

"God gives men 

a brain and a penis, 

and only enough blood 

to run one at a time."

 

No consciousness of love

Obscured self-worth

mocked by mirror images

reflecting doubt, fragility 

 

"There is no difference between 

a tornado and divorce 

in the south.

Someone is losing a trailer."

 

Menaced by the waking hour

Tormented by sleep 

to escape the isolation

induced by anxiety and distress

 

"Adam said to Eve, `Back up, 

I don't know how big this gets.”

When in doubt,

go for the dick joke."

 

Imprisoned by despondency

without probation

Solitary confinement with

one discernible exit

 

"Death is nature’s way to say

Your table is ready."

The intermission is over

but the show cannot go on.

 

In fond memory of Robin Williams.

 

 

9

 

 

I found out that the very nice guy, Damanta, who lives below crazy guy, returned the plants and stands to their proper place in front of my window. He is on my side and, fortunately, I have his phone number should I need some assistance.

 

One thing I hate about this website is that it has no spell check. If anyone notices misspelled words, please do not hesitate to notify me.

 

Last night I attended another event by OutParis, a gay group from meetup.com. The guys (and a few women) are very nice and it's great to finally be meeting some of "my people." (And, of course, the young guys are so cute!!!)

 

 

8

 

Sabbath Sermonette

 

“But she wished she had had the guts to go up to him and say hello. Or possibly break his legs, she wasn't sure which.” 

Stieg Larsson, The Girl Who Played with Fire

 

“At times the world may seem an unfriendly and sinister place, but believe that there is much more good in it than bad ... and what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events may in fact be the first steps of a journey.” 

Lemony Snicket

 

Jeudi rapidE

 

After a stressful week with my alcoholic neighbor, although it is unnerving to have to worry about a crazy person in my apartment building, I am more angry that he is causing me to feel uncomfortable in my own home. This past week I have watched two movies about the early AIDS epidemic:  How to Survive a Plague and a re-watching of And the Band Played On. My anger concerning the horrible 1980s has returned and I was reminded that I need not tolerate any homophobic behavior from anyone. I am not here to "be tolerated" or to be abused on any level. So last night at Culture Rapide I read a piece that that was originally a performance at Highways Performance Space in Santa Monica, CA, in the late 1990s entitled "The Lithium Years," which is posted below. Much appreciation to my friends at CR and back in DC who expressed concern about my nutty experiences of the past week.

 

 

The Lithium Years

 

1

 

His name is Don.  We exchanged phone numbers. I can't wait till he calls me. We met at a bar called the Frat House.  We were dancing to the song “Gloria.” I swear it’s the only song they play. I'm starting to hate it. Everyone was doing poppers, it was pretty wild. I never let them stay over. 

 

My roommate Brian is straight.  He’s out of town tonight. He doesn't know I'm gay.  He's a republican. We agreed not to talk about religion, sex or politics, which is tough to do since Brian works for a member of Congress from New Hampshire. It was because of Brian that I moved here to DC. He got this job on the Hill and I loved DC so I moved down. I thought Brian might be gay.  I had a crush on him in college.  We're good friends. It's just not that important.  He suggested I look for a job on the hill.  My second day in DC I got a job in the House Post Office. As it turns out my congressman is head of the Democratic patronage committee.  I didn't even know him and he gave me a job.  I met my other roommate, Little Bob, in the Post office. We call him Little Bob to differentiate between the two of us but he hates when I call him that. Little Bob is gay too. He's also from Boston. Brian would die if he knew we were both gay.  

 

My friend Billy who works with us is also gay. Billy is from New Jersey. We fooled around once, but we don't talk about it. He lives with his sister and she doesn't know he's gay. She's pretty naive. We go out dancing a lot.  Life is good.

 

I'm on lithium carbonate now. My doctor didn't insist on it but I requested it to be on the safe side. It really screws up my life if I start religious delusions of any sort! I don't even notice that I take it. The only side effect is that I retain water. Lithium is a natural salt. They give me blood tests to determine the proper level of lithium in my blood. I don't mind blood tests at all. I used to give blood regularly to the Red Cross.

 

I know 80's will be a great decade. I love my bedroom. It’s my own private world where I can be sad or happy and no one else has to know.

 

2

 

His name is Tony. We didn't really have sex; we just kind of fooled around. There’s a new disease called AIDS that some gay men are dying from. People are very scared about it. It seems to be a virus or germ that gets into the blood through anal sex. I don't know anyone that has it.  It seems to be just men in New York and San Francisco who are over 35 and had lots of sex in the 70s.  I'm sure it won't last. Ronald Reagan may be a republican but the Congress is still Democratic and I'm sure that they will spend money to find out what's happening just like did with Legionnaire’s disease.  

 

It won't last long but I am considering celibacy for a while. I've often considered the priesthood. I think every catholic gay boy thinks about it.  And God knows many gay boys became priests. I know there’s a connection between Jesus and gay men.  He lived with 12 men and a prostitute and he loved his disciple, John. He shed his blood to forgive sins. Gay men shed blood because we are called sinners. “Take this all of you and drink from it. This is my blood. It will be shed for you and for all men so that sins may be forgiven.”

 

Hey, I've been practicing. My friend Billy wanted to be a priest. He goes to Mass every Sunday. I still hang out with Billy. He's got a boyfriend now.  I'm so jealous. Billy left the post office and now works as a bartender at Timberlake’s on Connecticut Avenue.  He has his own place now in the same building where his sister lives.  She still doesn't know he's gay. People don't see what they don't want to see. My parents have no idea that I'm gay. I could never tell them. They couldn't handle it.

 

I have new roommates. Little Bob moved back to Boston. Brian moved out after he found out I was gay. He wouldn't speak to me for months.  He really freaked when he found out that Little Bob was gay, too. I was depressed for a while. But, I think the lithium helps keep me calm.

 

Life is going well. I still have my bedroom to come back to. I'm sure they'll figure a cure for AIDS. It won't be long.  

 

They don't let gay men donate blood anymore.

 

3

 

Paul just left.  He's my boyfriend. He lives in Asheville, NC. We don't have a lot in common, but the sex is good. He likes my body and the fact that I'm an activist. 

 

I belong to a direct action group called OUT! which stands for Oppression Under Target. We started the group after the March on Washington for Gay and Lesbian Rights. The day of the March was possibly the most profound day of my life.  I was on the DC planning committee.   We were raising money in glass jars, begging for spare change.  I never thought we’d pull it off.  The march ended on the Mall in front of the Capitol. There were hundreds of thousands of Gay men and Lesbians. There was so much pain and so much love in that crowd that I expected the Heavens to open and a voice to say, "these are my beloved children in whom I am well pleased.”  

 

I came out to my parents shortly after the March. As it turns out, my brother had already told my father upon questioning. Surprisingly, Dad was pretty cool about it. He said that he could never accept my being gay but that he still loved me. He just asked not to bring any “friends” home. My mother just cried and cried.  I was sure she knew.  She called me two weeks later to tell me that she had done nothing wrong. I'm know she went over every moment of my life in her head.  Even after they knew, some ignorant comments still slipped out. Dad said that for all he cared they could just burn the AIDS quilt. My mother said that people get AIDS because they deserve it.

 

Billy has AIDS. He came down with pneumocystis pneumonia on July 4th. He's only 27. I think he might make it though. He's doing great. He hasn't told his family yet. I told him that I was not going to be the one to call them if something should happen.  He's very scared. His sister still doesn't know he's gay. He's one of my best friends. I’m scared.

 

 

They have a blood test now that can tell if you have the AIDS virus. Billy has AIDS. Michael has AIDS. Danny has AIDS. Jim has AIDS. Freddie has AIDS. Peter is HIV positive. So are Vince, Scotty, George,  Alex, and Keith.

 

I come to my bedroom to hide, to escape the world. Some days it's very hard to get out of bed. 

 

4

 

I had a terrible nightmare. I was standing on a beach. It was sunny and peaceful and beautiful. I was waiting for all the dead gay men to come back to life. And they did, but they all looked like corpses — living corpses. Some had Kaposi's sarcoma, some were blind. Others had no hair, a few had lost their minds. They looked so gaunt and fragile.

 

I don't like my bedroom anymore. There is no comfort in sleeping. I wake up scared and anxious. Some days I don't get out of bed.

 

Billy died yesterday. The last thing he said to me was “I love you Bob Davis.”  He was in a coma for two weeks.  I had to call his mother in New Jersey.  He never told her.  She took him off life support and had his body cremated right after he died.  His sister came down but his father stayed home.  He is ashamed.  There was memorial service at St. Matthew's.  I think Billy thought that AIDS was a punishment from God for being gay.  He never came out to most of his straight friends even though they knew.  He told very few people that he had AIDS. Billy was my closest friend in DC.

 

I think they're all around us you know -- the dead. It’s a fine line between the two worlds. Billy is here right now. He's doing well now. I think he finally beat this thing. They're still looking for a cure you know.

 

Did I tell you my friend Billy died? And Michael died, and Danny died, and Jim died, and Freddie died, and Peter died, and Vince died, and Scotty died, and George, and Alex died, and Keith died.

 

Does strength really come from adversity? Oh, well, at least when I die there will be a big party waiting for me.

 

 

6

 

Travails - Update 2

 

UPDATE on crazy guy:  I had lunch on Tuesday with my friend, Atika, in whose apt I am staying.  She was very upset about the situation and she insisted that I file a more substantial complaint with the police.  We also went and bought some mace (aka bombe de defense).  We went back to the apt and she insisted we move the plants back in front of the window because they are her personal plants but she doesn't own the stands.  She decided to stay in the apt Tuesday night so that she could see the guy should he do anything.  She also spoke to two other tenants who were shocked about the incident and they gave me their names and numbers should I have any more problems.  We also learned the guy's name and apt number and that he drinks heavily on Saturdays and Sundays (and possibly Mondays) but not during his work days which I would guess are Tuesday through Saturdays. His name indicates that he is most likely Romanian and as far as I know, the Romanians are not exactly gay-friendly.  Fortunately, nothing happened Tuesday night.  Today, Wednesday, I returned home around 4 pm.  While I was sitting here I heard some noise in the courtyard.  When I looked out the window one of the stands had been placed under one of the plants.  I did not see who did it so I don't know what to make of it yet.  I was out in the evening and when I returned around 11 pm, nothing else had changed.  But it is unnerving to have to be concerned that this asshole might jump out at any moment. I will decide whether to move or not over the next couple of days.  If he does so much as to say one word to me, I will be out of here.  Should he do anything and I have him arrested, he would still be back after a day or two (and probably not all that happy!)  All for now -- and I hope the end of this story.

4

 

Travails - Update 1

 

 

3

 

Travails

 

Tonight I met my first complete French asshole.  He wasn't French but rather Arab or Russian or whatnot.  I was having three friends over for dinner and before ten o'clock he starts yelling in the window about the noise even though we were not being noisy at all.  He moved the two plants and their stands away from my two windows as if he wanted to throw something at the window or perhaps come into the apartment. When I went outside, he tried to kick me in the balls, threatened to strangle me and told me that he would send me to the hospital.   He also called me a "pede" which is a pejorative for gay.  My friends got scared and quickly left.  The man remained in the courtyard for a while.  I called the police who came pretty quickly but the man had gone back to his apartment.  They told me that they would note the incident and that I should file a complaint with the police department in my district and call immediately if anything else happened.  They also said that homophobic comments, or worse, are a hate crime in France.  Tomorrow I will find out which apartment this son of a bitch lives in.  He might fulfill my fantasy of beating up a straight male homophobe.  I will not live in fear of some asshole.  More on this as events unfold.

 

 

1

 

Sabbath Sermonette

 

“To judge from the notions expounded by theologians, one must conclude that God created most men simply with a view to crowding hell.” 
Marquis de Sade