pantoum's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- THE CHURCH OF THE BIG DILDO (No. 275 � Written Thursday � 12.1.2005) You have navigated with raging soul far from the paternal home, passing beyond the seas� double rocks and now you inhabit a foreign land.��Medea Yes that would be me living here in this foreign liberal land where my orchids are sprouting brand new stalks and the clementines I bought just a few days ago are already beginning to mold. (What is UP with that? I mean jebusfreakinglawd I am eating three a day! Whole Foods� produce department has gone so downhill since the days when it was the independently owned Wellspring organic grocery (which was downhill from the old local food co-op). And why on earth doesn�t Whole Foods buy locally grown produce when it�s so readily available?) I mean, all you have to do is throw some (finely sifted sea) salt over your shoulder, dears, and you are bound to hit some hippie who went back to the land in the seventies around these parts and who has since been selling organic rosemary or pig-sniffed truffles or delicate lavender or free-roaming piggies or incredibly wonderful goat cheese from the back of an old pick-up truck at one of our four local farmers� markets ever since. So WHY DON'T THEY SELL IT TOO? Here is my wish for the holiday season: New Earth Fare oh new Earth Fare purty puhleeeez use your competitive pricing power to force Whole Foods to improve ... and help them lower their prices while you're at it too, because y'all are breaking me.Anyway, here I am with my short attention span changing topics again when what I wanted to say was that yes indeedy this here dykestergrrrl has navigated myself far far away from my paternal homeland and you better believe that I only looked back long enough to find those barbecue and cornbread and coconut cream pie arecipes. I was fortunate enough to never desire the tiny strictured life that my family designed for me in South Cackylacky, but wow do they keep trying to cram me back into that mold. In fact, the paternal home-dwellers are practically stalking me these days. My mother asks what church I�m attending (the church of the big dildo, mom). My homophobic aunt Becky informs me in highlighted letters that I am going to burn in hell (but it's only a concept, Becks) because I don�t believe every rabidly hateful thing that her southern-fried Baptist church insists is Jebus�s word.... And my little sister sends me misogynistic, homophobic Roman Catholic bullshit on a regular basis. But. Oh. Wait. No. The Baptists don�t give a crap about Jebus any more, do they? He was just too liberal for them, so now it�s all about their so-called literal interpretation of the worduvgawwd. (Don�t you wonder what dank cellar they�ve locked Jesus away in anyway? I mean I�m guessing it must be the one in which his disciples were instructed to feed the poor and care for the sick so that they could prance on over to door number two, where their new Jebus instead offers huge tax cuts to the rich.) (And yes I know that there are plenty of good liberal Christians who are mighty embarrassed that Pat Robertson and Fred Phelps and their cronies are managing to speak for them all, okay, but just STFU already, okay?)And don�t even get me started on my little sister, who converted to the woman-hating homophobic Catholic faith and who knows just knows that I can be cured of my lust for gorgeous women�women who, by the way little sister, fuck me with their entire hand and bring me to ecstatic screaming climaxes and your Jebus can't touch that, so think about THAT the next time you�re mumbling some predetermined phrase out of your woman-hating lectionary. Meanwhile, my dykester chorus, which has never before performed a song with a positive reference to Jebus, will perform a traditional holiday concert on December 16. See, many classically trained singers have joined us recently and would really like to perform more challenging and beautiful carols, so we're singing Rutter�s �Mary�s Lullaby� and �Lo, How A Rose E�er Blooming� (which I love) and the lovely �Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day� (which I also love) and it's hard to find any that don't reference the J-Man, so we bit the bullet and introduced Jebus into our estrogen-rich mix for just this one concert. Only we unknowingly did this the same semester that HRC invited us to perform at a Gospel and Unity event that they advertised as inclusive of all organized religions. To be clear, the event was clearly an attempt to bring African-Americans into the mighty white HRC we-want-your-money fold. And, sadly, they can only envision African-Americans, even queer ones, as churchgoers. (Hey ever heard of Audre Lorde or Cheryl Clarke or bell hooks or Essex Hemphill or the Pomo Afro Homo guys?) Well, this HRC event overflowed with evangelical Jebus-farters, but Buddha and Pan and Spiderwoman weaving this great big world were NOWHERE to be found at this so-called inclusive event.Now, understandably, some singers (including moi) are up in arms about this sudden conversion of our feminist group. I mean, I was on the board that decided to accept HRC�s invitation (using the rational that queers need to somehow show Christians that we�re not just evil people), but our reality is that most of the organized religious are intent on persecuting us. So what was I thinking? I mean, I didn�t even participate in the event because my Jebus allergy can detect his allergens from miles away and I start sneezing the second the word "must"�as in "you must obey" slips out of anyone's mouth. (Leather context notwithstanding.) I also declined to design their publicity material.But at least I managed to convince the board to include that I ain't afraid of your yahweh ... I'm afraid of what you do in the name of your lordsong in our line up. I miss the days when the Christians our chorus sang about were the ones killing nine million European women during the witch hunts. � So I saw the Ginger today on campus. Yeah. the Ginger. The woman with alabaster skin who looks like a cross between Conan O'Brian and Glenn Close and TIlda Swinton. The woman with whom I actually believed I would be spending the rest of my life. She has highly visible carrot-bright red hair and great big dimples and is hard to miss when she�s not wearing a hat and I do believe that was the Ginger herself trying to shrink into the back of a bus stop in her one-of-a-kind medieval-style black coat that I bought for her a few years ago.(So I guess her bright-orange head saw my bright blue bug, huh?) I did not slow down I did not turn my head (yes I did) I did not look back I did not catch my breath (yes I did) I did not I do not I will not damn her for still making me turn my head! Boy I will be glad when this school year is over and she presumably graduates and then moves somewhere with that weaselboy Dickboy (who must be divorced by now). Hmmm, maybe I should seduce his ex-wife Kareth (who is sexy with a capital S and way too good for Dickboy); then we can arrange for the D&D losers to walk in on us fucking. Gawd I wish they would move to some other city already and pursue their careers (that I partially funded, damn it all) elsewhere and stay as far away as possible from me and this campus where I run into them too gawddamnawfulfucking often.Meanwhile, an odd thing happened with my photo blog. Seems a dykestergrrrl who is fascinated by women with hairy arms stumbled upon my photos and liked them, so she made me a contact (which means she receives notification when I add new pictures). And she invited me to check out her blog. And I did. And wow who knew so many people are so uptight about women who don�t shave? I mean something like forty bloggers commented on how gross they found this one photo of a beautiful woman with hair under her arms. Now I am not exactly a tactful person in such arenas, so no big surprise that I blasted off a tart reply that now sits below the photo. Then HaryArmrgrrrl wrote again to say �thanks sexy grrrl.� (Guess she likes that photo of my muscular back 'cause my arms aren�t even remotely hairy. Too much Cherokee in me, I reckon, and we just don�t grow that much hair (except on our curly frizzled heads).� READING: a summary of Adobe Creative Suite updates LISTENING TO: Maggie Sansone�s Ancient NoelsBEST OF SPAM: last longer John (oh baby I do)10:06 a.m. - 2005-12-02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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