The parroting purveyors of pious propaganda cannot claim that they weren’t warned; that if they continued to oppress reality their religious view would be openly challenged until becoming obvious that theirs is an insanity based on completely uncorroborated myths.
It can hardly be denied that human beings want, even need, something to believe in, but must that be delusional? Couldn’t it be as real as life itself; something that fills the void in the human spirit and yet we overlook it because it is so obvious that we continually miss its reality…the fact which makes us alive, makes life worth living, and creates life?
Well yes, there is, but the culture of religious belief is being used to conceal the reality of human nature.
“What’s wrong with that?” some might ask. “After all, the word of God is meant to guide us in overcoming the evils of human nature.”
Hold it right there! Those people are talking about their belief of what they believe is evil, and despite what that belief says about living under the rules of their God, those rules and belief cannot apply to anyone who believes otherwise.
What if there was a story, not based on a superstition, which fulfilled man’s need to believe in something?
Customary in ancient times, young men would leave the home of their fathers in search of fulfilment. Stories of many have become legends. One in particular became a well guarded anecdote, handed down, from generation to generation, in a secrecy necessary to avoid the wrath of those who disapprove of its meaning.
In one version, a father takes his son aside, in the spring of his eighteenth year, and says, “My son, you’ve reached an age when I have little more to teach you. It’s time to release you from my authority so that you may find your own way in life.”
The son, shaken by his father’s words, feared that his preoccupation with sex had upset his father.
“Have I done something wrong…have I lost your love?”
“Quite the opposite,” the father told his son, “You are now old enough to make your own decisions, and as long as you respect life, nothing you do will affect my love for you.”
Thinking about what ‘respect life’ meant, whilst slowly walking to his closest friend’s home, he’d decided to go on a quest, alone, to discover life’s meaning. The significance of the tears in his friend’s eyes escaped him, as he said, “You should do what you feel you must.”
Back home, he told his father about his journey of discovery.
“Whatever you do, my son, do no harm. But tell me, what is your quest; is it fame, fortune or something else?”
With typical youthful optimism, he told of his plan to search for the meaning of life, and upon finding it, he would return.
With heavy heart he watched his son’s preparations. He gave his son what he could, a small pouch of coins to help pay his way. As one last favour he asked his son to stop at the village temple to speak to the Oracle about his quest. The youth agreed, and departed.
The wise old Oracle listened as the youth explained his quest.
“Know thyself,” proclaimed the Oracle, followed by “To thine own self be true,” and so on, until the young dude interrupted, “I know all that, but I wanna know the meaning of life itself. I’ll go wherever I must, to find the answer.”
The Oracle was silent for a moment, and then told him, “I could show you, but…many come and do not understand.”
The young man nodded, noticeably mystified.
“Every man has a need to find meaning,” said the Oracle, “but each man has his own truth.”
“That’s why I’m going on my journey,” said the young man.
“Many men go on such a journey, seeking meaning for their lives, and few ever realise the truth.”
“I shall not stop until I am successful. I know there is much to learn and discover, but my very existence demands that I find the meaning of being alive.”
The Oracle was impressed with his enthusiasm and dedication.
“I can show you the symbol of life…it’s truth you must discover yourself. Do you know what is at this temple’s centre?”
“Oh, probably a statue of a god,” the youth muttered, somewhat frustrated by having to provide the obvious answer to the seemingly pointless question.
“A god?” exclaimed the Oracle.
“But which god?”
“I don’t know…does it matter? All gods are the same.”
“This one isn’t.”
“None of them really exist.”
“This one does.”
“Can I see for myself?”
“That’s up to you,” said the Oracle, disparagingly.
The youth felt for coins in his leather pouch, but the Oracle stopped him. “Neither truth nor love can be bought with coins. Put your money away, and follow me.”
The Oracle led him into the temple and spoke, “Do you have a friend?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Is he not journeying with you?”
“No, I just told him I was going alone.”
“How did he take that news?”
“He told me I should do what I feel I must, but there were tears in his eyes.”
“He is a good friend,” said the Oracle.
“Do you know why he was crying?” he asked the Oracle.
“Yes, most likely I do, but that too, you must discover for yourself.”
Oracle and youth arrived at the innermost sanctum of the temple.
“Beyond this door is a stone statue of a god, or the answer to your quest. Either way, it is what all men seek. What you understand is entirely up to you.”
The young man looked apprehensively at the door, afraid of what he might discover, and almost turned to run out of the temple.
“You must enter alone,” intoned the Oracle, and, walking away, “only you can find your truth.”
The youth pushed the door open and timorously stepped into the heart of the temple. All he could see was a shiny polished stone pillar in the centre of the room, rising up from the floor to tower above him, and pointing at the sky through an ornate opening in the roof. He drew a sharp breath as he realised he was standing in front of a giant stone phallus.
In that moment, he knew that no matter how far his quest took him, no matter how long he searched, he’d find nothing more than what was already available to him, right there wherever he lived.
He turned and exited the temple to where the Oracle sat waiting on a rock.
“Thank you,” said the young man, “I have no need to look further; the answer has been right in front of me, all this time. The phallus is the symbol of life and love, and making love is something only the living can do.”
The Oracle smiled, silently.
The youth immediately returned to his friend, embracing him and sharing his discovery. He told him that he loved him, and asked to be his lover. His friend, having an infinite resource of tears, cried with joy. In those days sex was not condemned as a sin, and their families rejoiced when the two young men announced their betrothal.
All through their lives they would adore, respect and honour each other by making love; resurrecting love anew each day, creating a more loving world for all Mankind.
Such is the ancient story told throughout the ages, told to me, and now to you. Nothing is unreal or hidden; from the father who released his son from his authority, to the Oracle who guided the young man along the path of self-discovery…of sex being an expression of love.
Love is not a myth. It is our life’s objective, its reason, and we are subject to its passion. We have only to realise the simple reality of life, unlike with religions, which have concealed the truth in a subterfuge of ritualized superstition.
Love is as real as the Earth, the sun, the moon and the stars, and we can make it.
Gigantic phalluses are historical anthropological facts; from the Obelisks of ancient Egypt to similar structures in modern cities. Phallic totem poles of tribes exist around the world and the modern garden rock-columns mimic those piles of rocks that wandering tribes built to honour and worship the ‘prick of God’, references to which have systematically been obliterated from Biblical text.
Is gay a religion? We might as well ask if sex itself is a religion; it certainly has a large enough following. Neither religions nor atheists can deny that the phallus exists; can’t deny that consensual love-making gives us a heavenly experience. If that experience is interpreted as divine, then it is religious, regardless of gender, and being gay is one of its denominations; gay is part of our human tapestry, and it is good.
Gay now in peace and may your days be spent in making love, and whilst you’re at it, why not build a cemented column in your garden?