Maybe it could have been the one true creator or even just a higher part of myself that was trying to teach me a lesson in how to love myself just exactly as I am. Warts an’ all.
But I tell you; it was a fucking tough lesson. Tougher than any lesson I ever got in school anyway. Well, apart from Religious Education obviously.
‘What? God wanted a son, so he miraculously inseminated a married virgin? What? Jesus died so everyone’s so called sins could be forgiven? What? We are all born sinners? What? God wants me to go forth and multiply, but he’s given me a cock that wouldn’t satisfy the tooth fairy?’ It just didn’t make sense to me.
Of course, Dan, Dan never explained the metaphors in the texts that show that all religions essentially talk about the same story, and they can all come under the banner of Syncretism.
That would after all defeat the purpose of school cause instead of dumbing us down, that would smarten us up. We are the one commodity they don’t want to be SMART.
The next toughest lesson at school was Physics. I could never get my head around that shite.
Have you ever read that Stephen Hawking book, a brief History of Time? What a load of gobbledygook that book is. On the cover it says, ‘A Layman’s Guide to the Universe’. A layman’s guide, really?
I don’t know many laymen who are a mathematical genius. For those of us who have actually got a life, it’s double Dutch plus quadruple German, rolled into one. Which comes to Sextuple Swahili. That’s about as far as my maths goes.
I think advertising like that is just designed to make you feel stupid. I read the same sentence about one hundred times, and it still didn’t make the slightest bit of sense. ‘Come on, come on, this is a fucking layman’s guide! I should be able to understand this. What the fuck is wrong with me?’
The answer of course was that there was nothing with me. I mean just look at the guy that wrote the book. He wasn’t exactly ‘Mr Perfect’ himself, was he?
No, that’s alright Stephen. You can have the brains; I’ll take the body, thanks very much. Assuming that it was him that wrote the book. If he was so clever, why didn’t he change the style of his electronic voice?
Things had moved on technology wise since he started pontificating about the laws of the universe from his wheelchair and yet he chose to keep his same robot-voice until he died. It’s a bit suspect to me but then again, I’m obviously not even up to the standard of a layman. I read another quasi-intellectual book around that time called ‘The Archaic Revival’, by Terrence McKenna, the world-renowned expert on psilocybin mushrooms. You know, the ones that get you completely fucked out of your everyday reality tunnel.
I had always wanted to try ‘magic mushrooms’ to find out for myself what they were all about, no doubt as influenced by Terrence as kids today are by Joe ‘Shill’ Rogan.
As Terrence died with a brain disease, I can’t be too sure how accurate this information is, but due to the mushroom’s totally unique chemical structure and the fact he’s been zonked out his brains so many times, he claimed that the magic mushroom is in fact an alien intelligence here to help humanity evolve.
I think he could be right, because for twelve hours after taking five grams of them….. I thought I was Mr Spock!!! I was convinced I had big pointy ears and was speaking perfect Vulcanese.
Yet I still couldn’t understand a fucking sentence in that Stephen Hawking book. God knows what planet that guy was from. I’ll bet he had pubic hair before me though…. bastard.
Cheers!
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