Talking of Sex

29 Sep

lovers photo: lovers thAnime_Love.jpg“At some time in our so-called evolution,” suggested Gringol Barnacle, “it became unacceptable for natural behaviour to be called decent and proper…”
“You mean … procreation?” murmured Jodish Pariah.
“Real love, true affection, were tarnished,” sighed Gringol.
“Best not talk about it,” chided Jodish, “best not air things that are properly kept secret…”
“That’s not like you!” protested Gringol. “You’re always talking about everything, with a sneer on your face and a shake of your head!”
“I know. I’m merely giving you an example. We mustn’t talk about the joys of the flesh. We mustn’t even acknowledge they exist because they shouldn’t!”
“I don’t got hat far,” Gringol told him. “I’ve got a great deal more on my mind than discussing fleshy excitement with a clergyman!”
Jodish adjusted his dog-collar, and grinned. “What difference does my profession make to an intellectual conversation?” he asked. “All I was suggesting is that somehow it’s become infra dig for sensible people engaged in soulful matters to acknowledge the existence of certain bodily parts and suggest that they might perform any but the most mundane duties, and that’s got to be attributed to evolution. Somehow we’ve populated the entire planet as a consequence of being squeamish about sex!”
“Nonsense!” growled Gringol. “It’s nothing to do with evolution, which I’m shocked to hear you’ve got the sense to believe in…”
“Evolution is merely Creation by another name,” smirked the Reverend.
“Have it as you will, what I was saying is you and your ilk, thousands of years ago…”
“What’s my ilk?” demanded Jodish Pariah.
“Your ilk is that wart on society that wants to claim the right to a rich life and yet has no intention of putting much into it. Who wants his stipend…”
“Clerical wages…” Pariah told him.
“Stipend,” emphasised Gringol. “Who wants his stipend together with a nice little pile of tithes gathered from the poor and in return preaches nonsense and advocates a grey life in a grey room!”
“You might call it nonsense…” began Pariah, “but I couldn’t possibly agree. “Me and my ilk, as you choose to put it, do the Lord’s work! We spend the year round baptising, marrying and burying our flock… we have spent eternity preparing them for Heaven!”
“And as a by-product have provided generations with layer upon layer of guilt for doing what’s natural because what’s natural is a far more attractive alternative to what’s profitable to you! Fear: that’s your tenet, and you take the natural thinking man’s fear of the unknown, of his own mortality, and trowel guilt onto it. You tell him there’s a god, which there plainly isn’t, anyone with the least little bit of understanding of the mighty cosmos knows there can’t be any gods anywhere because if there were there’d be millions upon millions of the wretched deities all drooling over their own Adams and Eves carelesslsy munching on forbidden apples in millions upon millions of special gardens on millions upon millions of worlds all spinning in a joyful dance round millions upon millions of suns…”
“You’re just a cynic,” protested Pariah. “Who said anything about millions upon millions of anything?”
“The men of science,” sighed Gringol, “the clever men with their telescopes gazing into the heavens and actually looking at them…”
“And what’s all this got to do with … what did you call it? Fleshy excitement?”
“You forbade it,” murmured Gringol. “You saw how young men and young women fell in love and danced erotic dances under the starlit heavens with joy in their hearts and experiencing the only real love worth contemplating, and you decided to take it for your own. So you invented love for your deity and made all who couldn’t feel it into guilty sinners, and then you invented the opposite to an idealised Heaven and called it hell! Then you told them that’s where they would be going on their demise because they worshipped each other and not your make-believe bearded fancy somewhere in the heavens, though where no telescope can find him…”
“Blasphemy!” growled Pariah. “Sheer unadulterated blasphemy. You talk of Heaven and Hell, who don’t believe in either!”
“Oh, I do,” wept Gringol, “I believe in Hell all right, because Hell is where you’ve sent me, here on Earth, with your preaching and promises of life everlasting! I was happy once, with the lass of my dreams, and we loved and kissed and cuddled and forgot, for a short while, the wretchedness of your faith – until you found us, knocked our door, sipped our tea and even drank our wine with smiles on your faces and the good book in your hands – and undermined our love. You took my angel and called her Eve! You spoke of original sin, you taught us to hate!”
“To hate? We never did!” protested Pariah.
“But you did, spineless clergyman … you taught us that what we did was wrong, the kissing, the cuddling, and, yes, the hours of pleasure we found in each other’s bodies, you taught us it was evil and ungodly and instead replaced it with a theoretical kind of love for an impossible deity that you lot made up some time centuries ago…”
“It’s how you interpreted it,” grinned Pariah.
“It’s our hell,” wept Gringol.
© Peter Rogerson 29.09.14


8 Responses to “Talking of Sex”

  1. slpsharon September 29, 2014 at 1:14 pm #

    I beleive in God, but mine had nothing to do with those teachings. The almighty church taught that.

    • Peter Rogerson September 29, 2014 at 2:18 pm #

      The teachings I refer to were really medieval. Back in the 12th century there were hardly any days in the year when the church said it was right to enjoy your spouse, and the reason had to do with making sure the hard working peasant had time to think of his religion without distractions. There are still remnants, though. Some things dissolve away only slowly.

  2. Barbara Boden September 29, 2014 at 6:16 pm #

    Nice one Peter. There are still some who would have us believe all that nonsense.

    • Peter Rogerson October 4, 2014 at 8:07 am #

      And I rather suspect there will be for some time to come.

  3. pambrittain October 2, 2014 at 8:44 pm #

    Okay, that was profound.


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