Karen, God and S’Up – Part 3

Cont’d…..

There?! Feel better now?”

Holy Crap!!! I suppose there’s no point in mentioning the obvious. Yeah, I was, suddenly, comfortable in my bladder but there was more to it. There was a flash in my mind; a lightening effect and I could see answers, I had a brief sense of knowing. I saw stuff and then? It was gone. It left something though. Something that I needed to process but he started to talk again and to tell the truth, I was struck dumb; ask the friends and family; this is nothing short of a miracle. I am rarely without words.

“Where was I? Oh right, the good and evil thing. I don’t get it. For a species with such tremendous potential, something so simpleminded is accepted as gospel – one good guy and one bad guy, controlling everything. Even those RPG games have more than one protagonist and one antagonist. You have free will but the devil made you do it. A loved one dies and it is god’s will. Now, if the devil caused someone to kill; you’ll get a lot of hemming and hawing if you ask if this too, was god’s will.”

He DEFINITELY has my attention now; magical stuff involving the urinary tract will do that to me, every time.

I love how this one god is all powerful but couldn’t stop a snake from convincing a woman to eat an apple. Or stop a brother from braining another brother. Prevent millions of his own image from dying in gas chambers. Or stop two skyscrapers from disaster and save thousands of lives. The theory just doesn’t hold water, yet there are billions who believed and still believe it, regardless of any proof. Hell, they kill, maim and torture over it.”

I needed a smoke for this. I asked him if he would mind if I smoked.

No, go ahead but take my word for it; you need to give this whole smoking thing up. You’re on your way to some pretty serious shit.” His voice had taken on a dark tone, far different from his storytelling voice. I lit up but I knew I wasn’t going to enjoy it.

“Have you ever wondered why women are treated like second class citizens by virtually, every country on your planet?”

“No. I don’t wonder; I know why. The whole Garden of Eden thing. Religion.”

“That’s just the justification. The truth of it? Envy. Jealousy. I think it was Freud who decided that women suffered from penis envy. He was way off. It is totally opposite. Its men. They suffer from womb envy. Ever since the moment that men realized that their penis was more than just an integrated plaything; they have been drawing pictures, erecting monuments – pardon the pun, and sticking the damn things wherever it felt good. It looked like a rod and a rod was a weapon, so based on this information, the phallus became a symbol of power. Think about the ludicrous nature of that, for a second. You ever hit a man in the pills?”

Well, yeah. It works like a charm.” I didn’t like where this conversation was going. Penis discussions are not my forte; I don’t have one so my frame of reference is limited to being a user and bystander; not a possessor and I was, well, all I can say to describe it is that I was off-balance.

Exactly. While it is a multi-use tool; it has, definite, limitations and before Viagra, a shelf-life. It isn’t the giver of life; it is necessary, of course. Like baking powder in a cake recipe but it doesn’t make the cake. Women are the creators of life. They carry that life and give it to the world. They withstand all that goes with pregnancy and then they give birth, anyway and happily. They expel a living being from their bodies. Even the slightest blow to the testicles renders a man helpless, yet a woman withstands hours of excruciating pain and then gives up a live human being. That is true power. True greatness. Women could do what the men did AND give birth. That kind of omnipotence drove them crazy. The problem was that men were physically larger and they could subjugate physically. That wasn’t enough though. Stories around evening fires turned into myths and these turned into religion. Stories based in wishful thinking and envy. Somebody gets stoned from eating the wrong berries or fungi. Bushes start talking, rocks start singing…Nobody has the nerve to call the story out and it starts to grow. Down the road, someone decides this stuff needs to be written down because it’s funny material. He has no idea what lies ahead for his anthology. Others pick up the idea and it just gets totally out of hand. Instead of a storybook, which is how it starts out? People start believing it. Same principle as the internet; if it is written down, it must be true – if it’s on the net? Well, it must be true because books and the internet don’t lie.”

I have to admit, the guy has me hooked. I’m late and I have a lot of things waiting at home but there’s no way I can just walk away now. The guy is funny, he’s interesting. He’s weird. I like that in a person.

The world is the world. Nature is nature. Shit happens. Volcanoes explode, comets flash through the sky. Viruses jump species. People get greedy. And folks always want an explanation. When things get rocky, they want answers. Gods were the source of, pretty much, everything. It started to get complicated…you got time to hear a good one? It is pretty funny and always gives me a laugh.”

Sure, I guess. I do have to get going soon though…”

“Understood. Okay, so there’s this guy – his name is Moishe and he’s with a group of friends. They’re all young with a plan for their own Utopia. Like the hippies and their communes. They set up camp one night, get into some henbane one of them had picked up from a Greek dude.”

My cell started to ring and he stopped while I answered.

Cont’d…


Leave a comment

Filed under God and Karen; A Conversation

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s