Husbands of Our Soul
Senator McCarthy: “Are you now, or have you ever been a member of the Communist
Party?”
The
Meddlesome Priest: “Of course not,
Senator, I have a soul. Members of the Communist Party, by definition, have no
souls. Therefore, Senator….
Bailiff: “Remove The Meddlesome Priest. Next witness.”
A soul is a kiss to build a dream
on. Forgotten kisses are packed away in attic trunks awaiting curious cats.
Like other things, they should not be counted along with years, lovers, and
glasses of wine, Capella tells us. Fate, Fortune, and Destiny are the husbands
of our soul. The first is imponderable, the last two are innumerable. Someone
took the time to create the constellations so we could not count our souls in
stars. Truth is the acceptance of the reality under the reality. Instruments
and devices, play things of science, only measure obvious realities. We are the
hidden realities, as Juliet put it so well;
“ When he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.”
Every moment adds more to what
is. Plato told me every soul had its companion star that we return to if we led
a moral life. Plato never lied to me.
A dwelling is not a home without
a soul. Memories cannot tell the truth without a soul. Lies cannot be believed
without a soul. A journey cannot begin or end without a soul. A sentence has no
meaning without a soul. As there can be no receiver without a giver, so there
is no person without a soul. Without color there is no envy. Without difference
there is only sameness. Sameness is soulless. Soulless is sterile. Sterile is
dead. Dead has no further purpose. Without purpose there is no wisdom of
experience. Experience is all the steps we take to our goal.
How many steps do you take in
your lifetime of 80 years? Would you believe about 216,262,500? It’s
true. I read it on the internet. The site was run by Plato. And Plato never
lies. Doing the math; the average person with the average stride living until
80 will walk a distance of around 110,000 miles. That’s a long way to carry
your soul for nothing at the end. Especially since you started your life in the
womb as a giraffe.
By the way, when did you decide your life had
no purpose? Why did you trudge on heaving it anyway? Your feelings? Your
beloved memories? Memories are not just about the past. They determine our
future. Don’t have children. You give hostages to Fortune, Francis Bacon told me.
And Frances Bacon never lied to me.
So, who told you that you have a no
soul? Did some feminists convince you that a human fetus is only a clump of
cells, a growth, an ingrown toenail, an annoying bunion, a thought experiment violinist
chained to a hapless mother? You’re just a pimple that can be popped before
hitting the next rave? You’ll never be missed because you have no soul and you
never existed? Who told you that? Deep down inside all of us is a list we go
over at the last moment before sleep. We review the list at the first moment we
awake. It’s that list of those we would eliminate from the species. Liberals
have their list extensively populated. Lots of clergy and objective thinkers.
Conservatives have their list. Lots of Rappers, trannies and foreigners there.
But the cornerstone of civilization is human
sacrifice, so you say. Then, you must have a soul unless, of course
you were a giraffe fetus in your mother’s womb. Did you begin your human
journey as a giraffe fetus? Did the feminist tell you that? What on earth would
a giraffe fetus be doing in your mother’s womb waiting to be assassinated?
Without pain there is no joy. Without war there is no peace.
Without error there is no fact. Without betrayal there is no trust. Without sin there is no salvation. The
soul chooses those things not giraffes, not pimples, or clumps of disposable
cells. Relax. Remain calm. You’re doing well. Tell me again how you were
conceived as a soulless giraffe and then somehow became a person. At what
precise Nano did that happen? Did some feminist have a stop watch? Tick
Tock. No baby. Tick-Tock ....BABY...an arbitrary and capricious baby decreed by
a self-obsessed, goal -post moving feminist...an aspiring deity. No sin. No
forgiveness. Abort it. You're entitled to.
Alright then. Our soul has three
husbands. Fate is the rapist one. Fate takes us against our will. Fortune is
the blind one. Fortune has our children hostage to uncertainty. Destiny is the
loyal one. Destiny redeems our Fate and Fortune through in the coitus of our
soul. We sleep with all three at night. They make us sweat, toss and turn. We
wake up screaming or unable to scream. Each breeds with us in a hoary breath.
The stink of their coitus structures our trek around the sun. That’s why we
mark birthdays so religiously; to remind us we are in their hands, who is in
charge.
Everything that has happened has
happened just the way it happened and in no other way than it did, in fact,
happen. Everything that is happening now
depends on everything that has ever happened happening just the way it happened
and in no other way than it did, in fact, happen. Everything that will happen
depends on everything that has happened and everything that is happening to
happen just the way it happens and in no other way. Therefore, everything that
will happen has already happened. The only question is: “…what’s happening Daug? …was
up? …say what, bro? In the streets the answer is typical; "Shit, nuttin’ man, keeping it
real, popping that shit".
Fate proceeds with the certainty of the
sleepwalker. Fortune gropes in the dark unpredictable. Destiny faithfully
guides the future as a lighthouse does a foundering ship at sea. It is all
about us but not in the way we imagine. Fate, Fortune, and Destiny husband our
souls to our stars.
And now, at the moment of our
death, we remember those we loved without reservation. We gave them our souls
you see. They kept good care of them till the moment they had to let go. Then,
and only then, could our soul return to its husband star. There in the light of
the possible, all knowledge is revealed without the need of sense.
Plato would never lie about at
thing like that.
_______________________________________________
____________________________________________
Have you seen the Cash app? Try it using my code and we’ll each get $5 when you send $50. QHXQFHW
Comments
Post a Comment
Dear reader,
I hope you will leave a comment regardless of content...I learn something from all comments regardless of agreement or disagreement.
Thank you for your kindness.
--- Mark McIntire