St Anthony's Day Revelations

I tend to choose a humorous or saucy revelation when it comes to this day of the year which sees my namesake saint being worshipped in the Christian world. But the massacre in Orlando plus the political exploitation of it, in particularly by Trump's campaign, bled my intentions out. 

The world is not more violent than it was in the past but extremism is visibly on the rise. A few weeks ago we almost saw a far-right president take office in Austria, right in the heart of the well educated western world. In France, Marine Le Pen's party is still gathering momentum. The soon to be held Brexit referendum has deep notes of the rise of nationalism and the closing of borders that entails it, and could potentially lead to a disaggregation of the European Union---a union which was thought of, first and foremost, as a way to end the possibility of more events similar to the two world wars to erupt. And it's predictable that the continuous flow of migrants on to the eastern borders of Europe will take a toll in the the popularity of more moderate visions of the world.

To add to that, demented individuals killing in the name of Islam will only help to swell the ranks of extremism, to recruit paradoxically more enemies and thus self-defeating their purpose: if life in the western world was any tough for a Muslim before it will only get worse. Curiously, if there was a time when Islam was great it was when it was the most tolerant of cultures; when Jews, Christians, Hindus, Nogodians were non-persecuted subjects in the Muslim world. Medieval Europe, by then, was a cesspool of religious fanatics in comparison. 

So it's not the time to shun political correctness in every day language, specially if we're talking of public figures as Mr Trump got to become. It's by language first that we dehumanise our fellow human beings and thus make it mentally possible to proceed to wish for their death, or to kill them ourselves. And it's also by language that perpetrators such as the one in Orlando will be shunned or deemed as heroes. Therefore it's not the time to attach other labels to that murderer other than demented individual. That should be inscribed in his tomb. Whether he adhered to ISIS or to Lunar Defenders is just a way of finding a group to blame, and the murderer a channel for his insanity.

It's in times like these that cool brains are precious commodities, when the whipping up of emotion towards blame and hatred blinds. And if you're inclined to think of apparently strong leaders, as Mr Trump views himself, as the way to fight a perceived threat to the world you hold precious, it's funny but it's exactly the insecure who will fill out that role of strong leaders. The way Mr Trump reacts to comments on his small hands or sexual apparatus, the way he responds to personal criticism, are hints on how insecure he is. An assured person would most probably smile or laugh at similar comments. The strong, and tough, and aggressive stances are a cover under which the insecure person hides. And I invite you to look for those characteristics in historical figures. It's a fun exercise.    

Even more curious is that America was much greater when the likes of Mr Trump could never go past the intention of becoming a presidential candidate. The smallness of Mr Trump's world lies in the self-delusion that he can make a society greater out of subtracting those whom he deems that should not be a part of it.

This is a time to be politically aware and to keep all our democratic cards close at hand. Our every day stance and speech within our social circles counts; our vote is likely to have too much importance on our collective near future not to be cast.  

God’s Dream, according to Pope Francis

There can be no confusion between the family God wants

 and any other type of union.

The family, founded on indissoluble matrimony that unites

 and allows procreation, is part of God’s dream and that 

of his Church for the salvation of humanity.

Pope Francis, addressing Vatican judges on a bill that

 would legalise civil partnership for gay people as well as for 

unmarried heterosexual couples and which is being debated

 in the Italian senate.

Italy is the only major western European state not to

 recognise civil partnerships or same-sex marriage.

Despite the European Court of Human Rights condemnation

 of Italy last year for failing to introduce a law on civil

 partnerships, its passage has been held up by objections

 from politicians of all stripes.

The Guardian

God’s Dream

It was revealed that Thou dreamst, dear God,
and that Thy dreams are only known by some,
like Francis.

Why then hast Thou made us dream other dreams?
Thou hast been making us plural, yet some,
like Francis,
were made to tell us that our dreams are wrong?

Pray, tell Francis, in his dreams, that our own
are of all the godly dreams the sum,
and that his dream is just one
of all the dreams Thou hast forced us to dream.

After that we might begin to, as we want to,
like Francis. 

The freedom to punch

Pope Francis in an airplane, and Dr. Gasbarri laughing at the prospect of being punched on the face by the former... because he's too weak by now?

«It's true that we can't react violently, but, for example if Dr. Gasbarri here, a great friend of mine, says a curse word against my mother, then a punch awaits him. It’s normal… It’s normal… One cannot provoke, one cannot insult other people's faith, one cannot make fun of faith. There is a limit. Every religion has its dignity ... In freedom of expression there are limits.»

Those were the heightened, heavenly words of Pope Francis, specially so for he proffered them while flying in an airplane. Most likely even God Herself overheard him—he was that close to Her. 

Landing a fist on a friend’s face because the latter said something offensive about our mother is not the same as killing a dozen persons because our deceased and supposed Father was offended. So Francis’ argument seems not to take off right from the beginning.

But let’s imagine, for two minutes or a couple of thousand of years, that Francis' argument was valid, which is something we usually have to do anyway when the likes of Popes are talking. 

My father, who, like Muḥammad, is deceased, was a huge defender of the freedom of speech and of respect towards our intellectual opponents’ viewpoints. He even had the nerve to tell his progeny that he wasn't religious, but if any one of us five wanted to be baptized and follow a creed that he would hold nothing against us. 

Setting up limits to “freedom of expression,” as Pope Francis wishes, is no easy task. For instance, who would set those limits? And why those persons and not others?  And what about defining the limits themselves? Is the limit set to when someone is offended or feel that their beliefs are being made fun of? We’re always offending someone: reading the comments that Internet trolls leave on almost every website might help you reach that conclusion. So the complexity of setting any kind of limits to the freedom of speech is huge not to say insurmountable.  And what could the solution to it be? We can always try not to offend people, or accept the fact that our beliefs (and not only) will be offended, as that’s the way of the world, never forgetting that our beliefs are not us, and that beliefs can very well change. 

What I think is that Pope Francis, unless he apologizes for having said that there are limits, offended my father by not respecting his idea of no limits to the freedom of speech, and insulted my belief that religion—like any thing else, I repeat, like any thing else—has no dignity attached to it per se unless demonstrated, item by item. Francis also offended God for She's been thought to be a male for far too long.

And therefore, Pope Francis, according to his own reasoning, should be the first one to admit that I have the natural right to punch him in on the face. As I'm kind, I'll be happy if he just offers me one cheek to slap. Only one.  Only once.

The New Pantheon – The God of Economy

Now, this is a whimsical god if I ever saw one. Even the god of economy’s most devoted worshipers can by him be fooled and left stranded.

The realm of this god is vast, ranging from our vocal instruments—which also serve for us to eat, taste, kiss, and breathe, for instance—to a cleaning station where large fish go to have smaller fish or even shrimps remove their parasites.  Oh, yes: the god of economy doesn't care about humans alone, just as the goddess of sex doesn't, and that’s why they are true gods.

But this god is also deceptive. And he might be the one responsible for mirages. As one example, he’ll lure us into cheating on a school exam in order to attain our goal. Yet what happens is that the way to that goal, the process, is the one which will enrich us, and not the end result. So while our goal is achieved we didn't improve our condition at all. And that’s when you can hear the god of economy laugh a good laugh. He does love irony.

This new god's name, if you want to pray to him or ward him off, is Mireco.

As I’m writing this piece under the auspices of Mireco, I must stop here. You go and figure out the remainder of his characteristics.

_______

photo by Public Library of Science, depicting a reef manta ray at a cleaning station, maintaining a near stationary position atop a coral patch for several minutes while being cleaned by cleaner fishes

Faith, a puzzle out of bonds

The most important part
was left out of the scene;
the source of light that got in
was not part of the art,
each thought was locked within
each drawer, each head 
thus left alone to devise
what was being unseen.




______

watercolour by Jennifer Allison
One Street Shy

I get it now

I get religion now.

I get even self-flogging.

We all want to be loved. Deeply.

We all need to be loved. But deeply.

And if we don't get it, we'll create it.

And if we don't, we'll suffocate.

And if we do, we'll suffocate?

Love or a surrogate,

a threshold we didn't set,

and this life is a quest

for a key,

for there's sorrow,

for there's a gate.

Bring on your whip!

All we have is blood to give.

The best Holy Book

Were I to reconnect with the Holy*,  I’d surely have grave concerns about through which Book I’d attempt such a feat.

My favourite candidate for Holy Book thus far is Bill Bryson’s A Short History of Nearly Everything.

The following paragraphs are a list of why it is so.

To begin with, it states that some of its contents may need correction or are incomplete, and it can easily be expanded without having to call for a synod, which is a council of gynephobic geriatrics who believe and want you too to believe in fairies, otherwise you won't go to fairyland once you're dead. 

It's Holy enough to exert divine protection. That is, its weight makes it a good, close at hand defensive weapon, or one can carve a small compartment out of its pages to hide a pistol in it.

Humour pervades it – a fundamental characteristic that is missing in any other Book that claims to be Holy, at least intentionally.  

Its heroes have brains, and faulty characters that are only human.

It possesses no inexplicable and paradoxical Lord of Darkness, even though the name of one of its heroes comes close enough: Sagan.

It sheds much more light than others do on a wider range of subjects. As an extra feature, it even sheds chemicals, bacteria. You name it.

No matter the matter that it's being treated, it's always awe-inspiring, or simply inspiring.

One can quote from it without the habitual result, when it comes to other Holy Books, of seeming a deranged or paranoid person.

If taught in schools, it’s compatible with critical thinking.

It too contains references to minerals, but condemning no one to be put to death by stoning.

And to end with, it’s the sole of the candidates to Holy Book that is concerned with – how can I put this gently? – the truth.

I sure do put all my faith in this book, and I swear on it.

_____________

* If indeed the etymology of «religion» is the Latin verb religare, one possible translation is «reconnection» (with God). As far as I’m concerned, I prefer not to lose touch with such influential personalities to begin with.