Politics. Pretty dismal. Barack Hussein Obama sits in the White House. A bad dream. Busy trying to turn America into Europe. Or Canada. I can't believe that the American electorate fell for his BS. I still hold that the only reason he's there is that he is --not Black, as he claims, but Half-Black, which he'd like us to forget-- "Black". How many guilt-addicted liberals voted for him. And 90% of Blacks. No racial bias there, of course. What a mess. I hope the Republic survives him and his ilk. Not at all sure it will. VDH nails it, as usual.
Sex. Pretty amazing. God, but I do like sex. Damn. The whole process, from the first glint in the eye to the hand on the shoulder to the happily sweaty and grinningly piled up afterglow a couple of hours later. Time stops. Reality becomes utterly concentrated right there. Totally submerged in an ocean of carnality, supremely awake and aware and completely comfortable and at home, pretty literally, in my own skin. And his.
Religion. Pretty uninspiring. But it beats "spirituality". This is Holy Week. As I've said before, if I could find a traditional Catholic --or even Anglican-- church which performed the rites well but without having the priests open their mouths to preach, I'd consider going. Mencken was right on back in 1920, although now the issue is not Darwin but "social justice".
A bishop in his robes, playing his part in the solemn ceremonial of the Mass, is a dignified spectacle, even though he may sweat freely; the same bishop, bawling against Darwin half an hour later, is seen to be simply an elderly Irishman with a bald head, the son of a respectable saloon-keeper in South Bend, Indiana.So...I guess it's "Thank God for sex."
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