Loving the Sacred through Word and Image. Parliament Hill Ottawa. A Wordpress Production

Commandments

Thursday … Thou Shalt NOT …

title_ten_commandments_blu-rayThe Seventh Commandment – Thou shalt not commit adultery
The Tenth Commandment – Thou shalt not covet your neighbors wife

I must ask the question, “Where is the sanctity of marriage?”  And perish the little children in today’s world. The Christians stand up for the sanctity of marriage and they spend their time disparaging the LGBT community saying that we are going to upset the fine balance of sanctity and all that is good by getting married ourselves.

Then there are those who deny gay couples marriage licenses because of their beliefs, and add to that some providers who won’t serve a gay couple, once again because of beliefs.

I believe that if you need to go outside your marriage for anything, then you do not deserve to be in that marriage to begin with. But we know, across the board on both sides of the argument for adultery, or going “outside” ones marriage, are the some key non negotiables …

Sex, Self Esteem and Money or the lack of one or more of these.

These are those non negotiables that would push anyone to cross the line.

Cheating websites are a dime a dozen. And hookup sites are just as plentiful.

In today’s social media world the Gays and the Straights can have it all, just at the swipe of your phone.

You say your marriage is lacking, well, we’ll give you something else to play around with.

Cheat on your spouse. All in secret, nobody will ever find out …

Well, They got that one WRONG didn’t they?

What’s with these sanctimonious Christians who have problems in the bedroom, with their spouses, or the lack of enough of them, because for some Christian men, one woman isn’t enough and they need to have more …

Is this Odd or is this God ?

What do we know about the disease of MORE ???

One night, when I was in date mode, with hubby, there was a night that shit happened, and I saw a look on his face, that I knew, then and there, it would be the first and last time I saw it, because I then knew that if I ever caused that look to happen again, I would be in big trouble.

Over the years, I realized that I loved my husband. And that I would never want to be the one who broke his heart, in any way, shape of form.

The day we spoke our vows, we meant them. We spoke them in front of family and friends and before God. To this day, I’ve never needed anyone else, or anything else.

It is a sad statement looking at the number of star couples who have recently “called it quits.” Then there are those star couples who kept their private lives out of the media and they prospered, and some of them have new children.

I think the heterosexual community really needs to take a look at what they define as the Sanctity of Marriage. Because, right now, the sanctity of marriage is in the toilet. And all those secretly cheating husbands are all over the web.

The secret is out guys, you are all fucked !

Secondly, a little fame, a little money and a lot of secrets, what does that get you ???

An hour of Power, a little Ego, and maybe a Sense of Control and Invulnerability.

Eat a particular sandwich and it will change your life. It will change your life so much and make you so much money that you won’t know what to do with all that money. Well, now we know what eating a particular sandwich does to some (read: ONE man/men). They get thin, they get rich, they get married and have children, then add insult to injury,

One man becomes a lock, stock, and barrel pedophile.

They not only cheat on their wives, they fuck around with children (read:Minors)

Oh, its a sickness. A moment of stupid. Because I’ve admitted I have a problem, I can seek help and with that admission, get absolution for my crimes at the same time.

This is where I draw the line on tolerance for those with different struggles.

Um, NO !

Oh, we the public feel so sorry for you because you have a problem with not only sexual behavior, but also because you fuck young people while you are married with children.

Um, NO !

You’ve admitted to a problem. Good for you. You’re a DOUCHE BAG all the same.

You give all of us men a bad name. And you leave a great big taste of shit in our mouths.

There is no excuse NO EXCUSE as a man, that you should commit these crimes on those who cannot defend themselves. Just throw a little hush money at them and they will keep quiet, right?

We live above the Northern Border, and a lot of this shit is N.I.M.B.Y.

Discrimination, whatever that discrimination, affects us all, no matter where we live. We are all interconnected. And if you fuck over one of us, you fuck over all of us.

You treat us with disdain, you mock us and you belittle us, and say to us that you know better and that you have the definitive answers, and that you are sanctified by God and we are not.

Well, Straight folks, who has egg on their faces tonight ?

I think we all know what many men think about the sanctity of marriage. And the value of another human life.

We also know how fame and fortune can fuck over a human life and cause him to do unspeakable evil to another human being.

I’m sick to my stomach. Some men are seriously pathetic excuses for human beings and we should not have to share air with many of them.

And God Wept …


Sunday Sundries, Episode #2 … Honor thy Father and Mother

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Exodus 20:11

יא  כַּבֵּד אֶת-אָבִיךָ, וְאֶת-אִמֶּךָ–לְמַעַן, יַאֲרִכוּן יָמֶיךָ

עַל הָאֲדָמָה, אֲשֶׁר-יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ נֹתֵן לָךְ.  {ס}

Honour thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.

The day passed without feeling or anger. And it would have gone untouched, had not a good friend of mine called me tonight, inquiring if I was “ok.” I knew what he meant, and I answered that I was. But after ruminating over this, I owe this letter to posterity.

In a months time I will be 48 years old. I have lived well past my expiration date, as doctors told me several times that I was going to die. God, it seemed, has other plans for me, because I am still breathing.

God spoke to Moses, and these words are inscribed on the stone tablets Moses brought down from the mountain. This is one commandment that I cannot abide with. And it doesn’t abide with me either.

How could one honor thy father and mother, when they could not honor their first born son. How could they create progeny, abuse them throughout their lives and turn on them with hatred and condemnation, and ask a child to “just die already” and expect to be honored themselves?

My father’s two phrases he used to toss around like the scripture he quoted from a bible that he never opened were:

  • Blood is thicker than water
  • Be careful the words you speak, because once you speak them, you can never take them back.

When I was a young boy, I listened well to everything that was spoken by both my parents. I knew I was Gay, before I knew what Gay was. But by the time I had learned what it was, and that I was Gay myself, remaining under my father’s roof was not something I could do and survive, because he tried several times as a child to kill me, chasing me around the house with a bat, only to be thwarted by vigilant grandmothers who protected me from him.

I moved away, but alcoholism followed me where ever I went.

I was a problematic alcoholic, what I did not know created rifts with my parents.
To this day, I don’t think they ever forgot nor forgave me.

I always lived apart from my family, mainly because I knew they would not approve of my lifestyle, and they did not. They made that perfectly clear well before I left the nest. When I was diagnosed with AIDS in 1994, I turned to my family. I called them together to tell them and to ask for help and support.

How do you think that turned out? It didn’t …

Along with my then boyfriend, all of my friends, and my fucking family, everybody walked away. My mother worked in home health care, and knew AIDS patients in her line of work. She knew fairly well, what was going to happen to me, in the end.

Do you think that gave her compassion or love? It did no such thing.
No she just wanted the faggots to “just die already !!!”

That Christmas, 1994, I went home for the holiday, against my better judgment. I knew what was coming. I was locked in at night. I could not use the phone, nor could I visit anyone while I was there. On Christmas day my father set a card table in the living room with a plastic chair. He set me a plastic plate, and plastic cutlery and a plastic cup.

The rest of the guests sat at the dining room table and ate in front of me, while I was separate from the group itself. My father humiliated me in front of friends and guests. The son of one of the guests left the main table and came and sat with me so I would not be eating alone. The next day they invited me out on their boat and they asked me for forgiveness for what was done to me, and how horrified they were to see my parents do that to me in front of others.

I NEVER went home again.

I got sober the first time. And a few years in, my father granted me visits with him when he would travel to Miami from Sarasota. But every time he visited he would belittle me and ponder my death right in my face.

One night, on the way home from dinner, (while on the highway) he started in on me. I asked him to stop the car (on the highway) where I got out of the car (on the highway) and walked miles home by myself. I told him never to come back and see me.

The first time I got sober, I was not of right mind in many ways. I was not very sober. As I am sober today. And I made several decisions based on self that were less than charitable.

My sponsor agrees that certain decisions were not self centered but were made out of self preservation.

I pissed my brother and his then fiance off, which afterwards, they would never communicate with me ever again. And that has been their story for more than twenty years.

I could not live up to the man they named me after upon my birth. How could a gay, HIV+ faggot live up to the honor of a man who died fighting a war in Viet Nam? I legally changed my name to be done with them. That was a direct strike across the bow of their battleship.

Years would pass. I would be sober, I would drink, and I would return to the program in due time.

On New Years Day, January 1st 2001, I was sober. I had not drunk. I had just returned from a job at a nightclub, where I had worked an all nighter. Just coming home and getting into bed, my phone rang. My mother was on the line saying that they were in Miami, and would be coming to see me on their way back.

A little while later, they rolled up and my father parked in a fire zone (read: No Parking in a fire zone) with the car idling. I said to them that we could go out for breakfast and that I would pay for parking and food. They said no.

I had twenty minutes to visit with my mother. We walked around the block where I lived. I walked her back to the car, she got in the car and they drove away. I had twenty minutes with my mother after years of no communication or visits.

I later found out that my parents has been in Miami for a week prior to them showing up on my doorstep. A week !!!

I never saw either of them again, to this day …

I got sober on December 9th 2001. I was sober a few months, when the lies my mother told us as children came up. My mother, being a Canadian citizen when I was born, lied to us, saying she was an American.

I got a letter from the Canadian Government soon after offering me a birthright certificate into the country if I met the criteria, which I did. I sent the check and the paperwork.

The way I was living in Miami was not viable. I was barely surviving, even when I got sober.

I turned my sights on Canada. I came up on Easter Ash Wednesday 2002. I stayed a week, I loved it, so I stayed another week. I found a doctor and a home. I flew back to Miami, for a few days, to pack and sent everything North.

Three day later, I left the United States for good. I never looked back.

Moving to Canada was akin to High Treason on my American Father’s honor.

For the following two years, I worked very hard at relationships with my parents. At the two year mark, my mother called and said:

“If me or your father get sick and die, nobody will call you. Nobody will tell you where we are buried.”

That was the last time we spoke.

It is now 2015. I am closing in on Fifty. I am sober. I am alive. I have a life, a home, a husband and all the things I ever wanted and more. I could not be any happier. The life I have today, would never have happened had I stayed in Miami, I would have probably died sooner.

I am an idealistic man who has dreams of grandeur.

I am a lot more sober than I was fourteen years ago, and much more sober than I was the first time, close to twenty years ago. I work very hard at living and being sober.

With the dawn of Facebook, several family member are on the site. And to this day, they refuse to communicate with me. Every year that goes by, and I am still alive, I get angrier and angrier.

All I want, before I die, is for certain human beings to acknowledge me and the life I live.

If I am to honor thy father and mother, they need to step up and honor me, if only for the fact that when they asked me to die, I lived … How can you turn your backs on your children in their hour of need? How can you live with hatred and scorn for so long?

Happy Fucking Fathers Day you hateful old man …

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