...and everything kept coming back to religion.
My week began on a rather lovely note. As I went to get the post I had one of those surprises that makes an entire week (or possibly quarter of a year). There it was. A parcel with Afghanistan as a return address. Already I was giddy as an opiated sheep, things only got much much worse as I opened it to reveal a beautifully bright green burkha. Life was wonderful. And the wonders only continued as I put it on. In an instant I was transformed into a highly politically incorrect mixture between Barbalala and Superman. I roamed through our house looking for Lois Lane who had been captured by Talibans disguised as evil sheep. Just as I was to embark on a heroic rescue my sister stepped through the door and my elaborately constructed alternative reality disintegrated into a million little dust particles.
The week continued with suggestive comments, English speaking, more religion in the forms of both Allah and the vengeful sodomite smiter usually referred to as the Almighty Father. Not to mention mishaps at the sperm bank and kick-bike adventures i Kulverten. Then there was also 5 minutes when I considered becoming a nun.
Now I'm standing on the dunes beyond religion looking out over the vast sea of weird human behaviour feeling a strangely acute sense of compassion. Which in turn led me down the internet road to RFSL and apparently I might be doing some volunteering, and if I am I do expect all of you to stop by and support my pamphlet pushing during Uppsala Pride.
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5 comments:
I think I recall being promised a picture but I gotta say, this youtube-woven version was awesome.
And oh, the beauty of the 70's. I don't think we'll ever be as progressive as we could be then. And I wasn't even there. I'm just a late product. Like a store-bought jar of mayonnaise with an artificial lemon taste. Enjoyable, but not original, and nothing you can't do without.
True or not, I like the thought of that. It's soothing.
And the thing about pamphlet-pushing is to deliver and not simply offer.
It's a way of thinking that will reflect on your body language.
Sorry for babbling away, but I have had one dead ass boring day.
I spent it reading about lobotomy and severely depressed people receiving electric shock therapy (ECT).
Suddenly, church exploration felt like an option. Or maybe suicide, had it not been for the risk of failing and finding myself part of that small population of severely depressed people that receieves ECT.
The dilemma of this Sunday.
Jag stöttar broschyr-prånglande. Men bara om jag får ha mina regnbågsfärgade armvärmare.
Åh! När jag äntligen fick igång youtube bjöds jag på något lika fint som ...kinderägg! Vilken tur att mamman var så förstående och accepterande! Eller äckligt dåglig på att agera.
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