Friday, December 28, 2012

Professor Brian Cox, Mad Money

Okay, this gets on my very last mid-holiday nerve. 

I'm sitting here, hoping to have a quiet moment with my friend and confidant, the guy I turn to in times of deepest doubt and despair, or when I need a little fun time. Yes, of course I'm talking about my PC, whom I have named Mr. OMGWTFPWNFTWPMPSauce (I know it's a lot to type, but he's earned each and every keystroke, and more).

Now picture this... Seeking distraction from the running soap opera that has become life in my family, I have just viewed a slightly dated (sadly there aren't any other kind) episode of  "Wonders of the Universe" which is narrated by Peter Pan-like Professor Brian Cox, the engaging and boyishly charming Physicist cum Pop Star (or is that the other way around?) with the Northern accent I find so scrumptious it's brought Oldham close to the top of my Watering Can List (BB does not do buckets). Said professor has just spent over forty of my precious downtime minutes explaining how life thrives in incredibly extreme conditions on our own planet and how it could definitely do so elsewhere in the universe. He does seem a tad condescending at times, but it does make the show accessible to a larger audience, and it's good to catch young elastic minds before they're corrupted by crass commercialism...and bored teachers just going through the motions and teaching to the test. Besides, I doubt that boyish persona would work if he spoke to us as if we'd been farther educated than a "slow" fourteen year old. See how neatly I ducked that 'cross the pond difference in which label they attach to place in school at that particular age in the UK vs the US? Nicely done, no?  

The show is carefully researched and as we have already discussed, deliciously narrated, and it is also beautifully shot and artistically rendered, with majestic footage of massive vistas, unexpected terrestrial wildlife and microscopic miracles of unimagined life forms. From space and helos and through lenses of incredible strength and clarity we see example after dynamic example of unlikely environments; as Cox lifts the veil of mystery surrounding the creatures that flourish here in places of which even well educated people are only vaguely aware. And it's all so early in the life-span of our own baby solar system.  With an unusual mix of knowing teacher and excited student he gives us excellent arguments for how life is very likely to have existed on Mars as it possibly does on Europa, Jupiter's closest moon, the smoothest body in our solar system, because its surface is "an unbroken shell of ice." He is utterly convincing and truly is filled with wonder as he carries us along on yet another magical mystery tour. 

Jupiter moon Europa
Jupiter's first moon, Europa


Having spent the program showing us these amazing extremophiles, and so many likely cases of extraterrestrial life so relatively close to us, he sums up the program with his fresh faced flair (say that five times fast) and restates that all the necessities for life, water being chief among them, have been shown to exist and likely do exist in many other places. Here I note that he does not even mention in passing the  unimaginable vastness and complexity of the universe, and I start to get a little bit of a funny feeling about what may be coming next. Oh no, please don't let it be so. Not Brian Cox. I love Brian Cox, like with a pitter-pattering heart  ...and butterflies. He takes me back to my childhood when everything was fresh and new and thrilling and the world was more wow! than yes ...and?

Screw childhood and butterflies.
What I see above are two parts of a me sandwich!

I should follow my instinct turn off the tele right now and leave well enough alone, but no, I have been dying my life away, one small death at a time of morbid curiosity (oh yes, I wish I meant the Shakespearean "little death" too, Love!). As the program draws to its, one would think inevitable conclusion, that familiar, direct and guileless gaze seems to somehow glaze over. Is it my imagination or is my favourite professor beginning to look less like my first boyfriend's best friend friend (therefore taboo for life) on whom I still have an "omg I'm blushing" crush ...and more like the void visage of a man whose ego has grown a bit too large for his own head, even with those new cheeks? It's so refreshing to see that men have a little work done now and then too. *big smile* I haven't had to go to those lengths yet, but then I haven't spent as much time out in the climate as he has.

Not quite so "cheeky" here as he has been of late.

Amazon decimated for packaging for Barbie and Ken.

Slashandburn taruma mirim. charcoalvander brug
As I contemplate this with growing unease, the ever artistic camera work recaptures me as we pan first to shots of natural splendor then to environment devastation as forests and landscapes are destroyed to make way for magnificent mankind. *eye roll* Before that can be given too much thought we race swiftly to our climactic shot, this in extremely high definition from space. It is another fabulous piece of art by the production staff. Though they obviously didn't shoot it themselves, it's rendered in perfect, seemingly cloudless detail. It's a night shot of Earth's western hemisphere as the camera slowly pans eastward, across the US, and Atlantic then lingering on the UK--the landmarks easily identifiable at relatively close range. Then the lights become brighter and blend together against a contrast of midnight blue, a dark planet in a dark sky. We zoom out to see familiar land masses defined by simulated star shine where shoreline meets the sea and Professor Cox waxes eloquent on the (arguable) triumphs of technology and the (dubious) feats of mankind. 

It's a toughie, but I am pretty sure I prefer the 'before' picture, thank you.
You may want to ...well actually I assume you're sitting, never mind.  Professor Dr. Brian Cox, the cute boy wonder of the science scene who tells us all the fun facts about so many things, looks the camera in the eye and with all the wanton boastfulness of a drunken braggart proclaims with complete conviction that man, as in the human being, is the only intelligent life form in the universe. He's not joking. He didn't grimace or blink or show any kind of tell. I didn't see more than the usual flush creep up his neck, ears or cheeks. Of course I may have been looking at some of that nifty camera work, so maybe I missed it, but he goes on to say man is the only being in the entire universe with the acumen to shape his environment to his needs, the evidence of which is writ large across Earth's face. He takes a short dramatic pause and then adds ...and also the brilliance and bravery to leave his home planet in search of the wonders of the universe! 

Pretty lights, but at what cost? If only we could live in harmony with nature rather than destroying it.
Perhaps we might then boast of the mark we've left on our planet to proclaim our existence to the Universe!

As my ex husband would say in his southern US drawl, "Do what now?"  

After the initial shock wears off, which takes about half an hour, I'm thinking, "What other absolute tripe has this guy shoved down my gullet and had me swallow whole, all the while looking into my face with those adorably credulous eyes of his, disarming me with that ever artless mien, which, in the end simply served to hide his epic ego?" I guess he was another one on the too good to be true list, as anyone that charming would have to be in this tainted world. Apparently there's no Never-never Land and Petra Pan still hasn't found her Peter. *wink* I mean seriously, he even ended his self-congratulatory little oration, with the title to his show! Give me a freaking break!





Please bear with me a moment, humour is my coping mechanism, and it usually works, and if that doesn't work, being catty is always my sure-fire, no fail back-up plan, but I've just taken a bit of a shot to the heart here. As a natural-born geek, who suffered all the slings and arrows any geek suffers, in addition to being female, blonde and bodacious (I didn't do it, it was Mother Nature, take it up with Her) I take my science shows, and their hosts, seriously. Some women dream of being carried off in the night by hunks with six-pack abs (and nine    ....figure bank accounts) who could stop a van from crashing into them with one hand while slicking back their perfectly styled hair with the other. I dream of men who can, in the dead of night, whisper to me of mysteries obscure and arcane. So it's a sad day for BB when she learns a member of her top eleven or so is apparently bipolar or suffering NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder, which used to be called Grandiosity or Delusions or Grandeur). Either that or some other gem from the misery-filled, pharmaceutical industry-supporting pages of the DSM...what are we up to, V now, I think. 

I almost, and please note I do say almost, hope he's simply religiously devout, and that's the basis for his naive, inane, jejune um... stance. Surely it is just that, a stance, not a true belief! Maybe his wife is devout and he wishes to please her. She looks rather rigid in her photograph. *Hiss* Our little boy seems to have need of a mommy figure, but I digress. *Meow* And let's face it, we've already established I'm jealous. It's hardly fair to blame the wife for the idiocy of the husband, unless it really is her fault of course. IT happens.  Oh, nvm on the religious nut thing. I see here, he's an atheist:

‘If you say the world is 6,000 years old, then you’re daft. It isn’t. Some people just don’t understand rational thinking! We know that the sun is 4.5 billion years old and the universe is 13.7 billion years old.
‘But I do think there’s common ground between religion and science in that you notice that the world is beautiful and that nature is absolutely fascinating.’

Well, better arrogant than ignorant. 

But that just sooooooooo doesn't fit his personality. I get that people have a public persona they put on a take off for the camera, but not all of how he behaves can be fake. I've seen too much in life to fall for that. So logic informs me he must have an agenda. Aha! An agenda! What did I say back there a bit ago... yes! It's a stance, with a purpose, and that purpose is...? What are the three main purposes nearly all men have in life? Sex, sex and sex. No really, sex, food and money, right? To be honest I think the money's just so they can get the best food and sex...or so they think, equating physical attributes with good sex, dolts that they are. And oh yeah, I forgot toys. Boys must have their toys, and I can't argue with them on that one. So funding it is, then, right? He's not a ranting lunatic or flagrant egotist after all. I can still luv him! Yay!

Whew, thank goodness, because I really do like him, and almost even better, he's not nearly so young as I thought! Unfortunately there's still that married thing...*sigh* But still...  

Okay, now it's simple.  All scientists need funding, it's a curse of the profession. In that light this asinine declaration that man is the only intelligent life form makes perfect sense. When he states he's attempting to disprove the hypothesis that intelligent life exists on other planets, it's not only correct practice according to the strict (and rightfully so) confines of Scientific Method, but it's the big C ...controversial! 

I believe the equation is:  Star Power + Controversy = *cha-ching!*

What does controversy do? It attracts attention! What does increased attention do? It increases profits for whomever sponsors and/or puts him on the tele, which also puts money in the bank account of Professor and Mrs. Cox, which gets him more sex, better food and more toys..I mean it eventually gets him the Nobel Prize when he finds life on another planet! ...or the Nobel Prize and " tokens or Nectar points"  Source  as Professor Cox himself sardonically stated when speaking to "BBC bosses" who asked if some kind of prize need be given to anyone appearing on their show who might find intelligent life on another planet.

Prof Cox also said he had a second bizarre encounter with BBC bosses during the show when he suggested asking volunteers to scour pictures of Mars for signs of geological activity that computer scrutiny might have missed. ‘Someone from the BBC said to me, “Would there have to be a prize if someone discovered it?”
‘(I said), “What do you mean? You’re going to say to someone, you discovered the first evidence for alien life beyond Earth – and here’s a book voucher as well?

Clearly our darling Professor is loving the publicity his little statement has engendered. He has never enjoyed more fame. He's an OBE, so far. He's doing almost as many experiments as he could possibly want, and he's on the tele and making money. I think this case can be closed, at least for the time being. 

Bow ties ARE cool!

I am so relieved that in writing this and sharing my over-wrought emotions with Mr. OMGWTFPWNFTWPMPSauce and you, I've found the true source of this outlandish dichotomy of thought. I am making no sweeping statements about life on other planets (unlike some people we know), I'm just keepin' it real.  

*Graciously bows and accepts accolades and applause*

Thank you, thank you veddy much!

I'd like to close with this slightly out of character reality check. Stephen Hawking is my preferred expert on this particular subject. No Peter Pan antics or pseudo-scientific rationalizations for the raging global technocracy currently devouring Earth and her resources. Hawking takes no pride in man's destruction, I call it rape and murder, of what was a pristine, beautiful and bountiful planet, perfectly suited to sustain life in perpetuity, or at least until the next ice age. He takes a more realistic and cautious view, as described simply and powerfully below, and it doesn't even need pictures...the imagery is self evident:

Stephen Hawking has revealed he strongly believes in aliens and warned that Earth could be at risk from an invasion.
In a documentary series, the renowned astrophysicist argued that it is 'perfectly rational' to assume intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe.

Professor Hawking said: 'We only have to look at ourselves to see how intelligent life might develop into something we wouldn’t want to meet.

'I imagine they might exist in massive ships, having used up all the resources from their home planet. 
'Such advanced aliens would perhaps become nomads, looking to conquer and colonise whatever planets they can reach.'
It would be 'too risky' to attempt to make contact with alien races, he concluded. 
'If aliens ever visit us, I think the outcome would be much as when Christopher Columbus first landed in America, which didn’t turn out very well for the Native Americans.'

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Rochester Reigns Supreme (and Jordison the blogger is an idiot)

Sam Jordison, Blogger

This is the bugger-ee, and yes, I said it, he's a bloody, bleeding man who I can easily picture liking it up the arse. Well, to be fair, I doubt he's bloody or bleeding. I'm quite certain he's well stretched and likely has a trail of loose stool and other fluids following him around wherever he goes unless he's wearing a nappy.


That was stupid, given I have nothing at all against gay men, and find most I've seen quite attractive (which automatically rules him out). I'm about "this" far from being a fag hag in fact, so that was far too nice a thing to say about the piece of offal you see above. He's a hack, plain and simple. No, what I mean to say is he's plain, he's simple and he's a hack. 

*sigh again*

I just had to happen upon his utterly ignorant hatchet job on John Wilmot within mere days of resolving to set aside negativity, too. That makes Brilliant Bitch a very cranky bitch this evening! I suppose I must show you the link, so you can see the thing for yourselves (don't miss the comment section, where Sammy boy's true ego shines vainglorious through) ...but don't say I didn't warn you. It sucks, and not in a good way!

Never fear though, at the end of this ...let's call it a defense of John Wilmot, given my desire to leave negativity behind as much as possible, there is a link to an actual researched and resourced, ie journalistically sound piece on said Second Earl of Rochester, complete with links to many of his well known and lesser known works, poems, lyrics as well as letters from and to John's wife Elizabeth, about whom the dolt above professes to know so much ...after looking at a tavern sign and speaking to the alleged descendants of some pissed off peasants who haven't forgiven someone for getting one over on their ancestors. Oh, the humanity! When he went about disguised as a commoner and they called him, their lord, a smarmy git or whatever they called people back then, he dunked their heads in a pail of beer. Not until anyone drowned. Not until anyone was even harmed. The worst crime as far as I can tell was alcohol abuse waste. Does our resident self-proclaimed expert and Puritan realize what truly awful kinds of things happened to peasants back in those rape and torture and murder? Obviously that's a rhetorical question.

John Wilmot, Second Earl of Rochester

17th Century artists painted male characters with long/large noses because it implied they were gifted with long/large lower parts as well. Also, it was the norm to "gift" nobility with characteristics similar to the King, especially if it were something about which the King were particularly sensitive.
King Charles II had a large, red, bulbous nose, so no doubt John Wilmot's nose was far more refined than what we see here, but we shall never know for sure. Pencil drawings done before the painting seem to indicate a far more handsome man, but that would NOT have been acceptable to His Highness, the King.

I am going to break here just to show you a few pictures of the contemporaries and friends of the court of King Charles II. Let's see if you can pick out that singular feature they all seem to have in common with the monarch, whose picture I shall place first of course, well second, beneath that of the Earl of Rochester...just because I can!   So there! Why do I get so much pleasure out of such a simple thing? Ah well...

King Nostrils King Charles II, the mold by which all other noses would be painted, only slightly smaller, of course.
The rest are his friends, in order, Christopher Wren, John Dryden, and Samuel Pepys. There were several more, all with
very minor variations on the same basic nose, and while we would expect that with the inbred royal family itself, it
extended far beyond that, as you can see, to include scholars, writers and architects. 

I happen to adore the works of John Wilmot, the real John Wilmot, in all his glorious, delicious imperfection, though I will admit it was the very perfectly made Johnny Depp who brought his writing and life to my attention. Thanks to the expert efforts of entities like "The Poetry Foundation" and modern day editors whose names I confess I do not know it is only now, in the twenty first century, that John Wilmot, Second Earl of Rochester and Baron of Adderbury (that is a pun for a all time given John's life story) is finally receiving his due as one of the Great Poets, Playwright and Lyricists of Restoration England. Sadly, his gods-whore of a mother burned the greater bulk of his private collection of his own works upon his death, leaving unromanticized history and the world far poorer for it. Imagine the world without most of Shakespeare. THAT is what this woman did. Imagine if only his lampoons and lesser works and private letters were left us, and some bitch had destroyed Othello and the rest. It doesn't bear thinking, and it happened. It makes me dearly hope parallel universes do exist and that in the rest of them she's the one who died of the pox at age 33 and he lived and wrote well into his sixties, at least. He hadn't even really matured yet, and was writing like the greats of all time. Talk about tragedy! How I loathe that art destroying shrew.

Such irony exists in the fact that those who claim to be so "veddy-veddy devout" (insert false High English accent, please) and cloak themselves in conspicuously false self-righteousness focus so attentively on the alleged filth and shame of sex and anything with even the most remote allusion to it. It is like a reverse sexual addiction...or perhaps not. Maybe that's just how they get their jollies. Maybe Rochester's "old sour cunt" (to steal a line from George R. R. Martin) of a mother squirted buckets as she watched his "pornographic" drawings and poems burn. I sincerely hope not. She didn't deserve the pleasure of it. She was probably fucking the minister who supposedly badgered her son into a deathbed renunciation of all he had done and been, so she's a liar too, or he was so deep into the dementia of syphilis that he knew not what he said. One thing I have learned in my decades on this earth; the more pious they are, the more likely they are to be complete and utter hypocrites!

Ann, John Wilmot's mother and the destroyer of most of his works...the rancid bitch.
She looks relatively young in this picture and she already looks like a bitter biddy, as if she's thinking  to the artist
"I know you're undressing me with your eyes, young man." AS IF! She could have probably used a good...
fill in the blank.

I can think of no other reason, when religious mythology has been so completely debunked and sane people understand that the Bible (capitalized here out of courtesy) is, if anything, a too often translated to suit the whims of the leaders of the times, possibly thought by some poor souls to be a divinely inspired collection of books written by mortal men. We know the New Testament was absolutely written after the life and death of Yeshua bin Joseph, the man Christians call Jesus, the Christ, Son of God, then altered in major ways, with entire books removed, by the Council of Nicaea in the 4th Century. If divinely inspired, who were these mere men to remove God's inspired works? Clearly, the Bible IS is seriously flawed, so anyone who takes it literally as the pure Word of God is not only a bit naive, but a bit nuts OR an all out sinner, because they are not doing all things the Bible commands us to do, because the "good book" is full of complete contradictions! 

Seriously, take this whole "sex except within marriage and for procreation is dirty, shameful and bad" thing. It really should have permanently run its course like a bad flu centuries ago, but like a bad flu it keeps cycling back around and around and around, bringing death and destruction (and major buzz kills) with it every time! But for a vocal minority of people, like that guy whose picture is up top, that thinking ridiculous (meaning literally to be ridiculed, which I am in the process of doing) thinking has not changed much in the past several hundred years.  

Take this old gem of an aphorism, just as a simple and obvious example. Religious zealots almost universally teach that their god created us. And the god of their own religion/myth is always the only one true god, yet they have no explanation for the fact that:
1. sex feels good, married and procreational or not
2. anal sex can be delightful for anyone (am I right, you BYU flippers?) though it is clearly not for procreation--in fact it is used in many cases to avoid procreation and pretend to maintain virginity ...and there's Hypocrisy rearing his beastly head again!
3. pleasure in sex continues, even increases for many, long past childbearing age
4. I could go on, and on, and on...but I'm sure I've already offended enough people

If this god of everyone's is so all-powerful, would he have made so many obvious errors in our design, or is the error in the idiotic thinking of repressed individuals who use religion as a means to control others--usually women? Gee,  let me think... Ahh, we're back to 4th century Nicaea, where a bunch of rich and powerful men, the only people legally allowed to read, write or hold religious office at the time, removed Mary Magdalene as the most favored Disciple of Christ, very likely his wife, given  it was "not right" for a Jewish man to be single well into his thirties, no matter who he claimed to be. Not only that, but they wrote her into whoredom. To top it all off, much of what Christians think of as Biblical or Gospel did not come from the Bible at all. It didn't even come from the <expletive deleted> Council of Nicaea! It came from Paradise Lost, a book of fiction, by someone named John Milton, who thumped the Bible so effing hard, he actually changed the perception of it for the majority of people alive today!  So no, no god made the mistakes. The mistakes are ours, all ours. That is clear, at least to me, and clearly to my beloved Merry Poet as well. Is it any wonder he graduated from Oxford with an MA (not BA, MA) at age 13...thirteen. That was not a typo. I call myself Brilliant Bitch completely tongue in cheek, but that man truly was brilliant, and to me his star shines as brightly now as ever. I just wish I could have seen his whole body .....of work.

Some say Rochester was a woman hater toward the end of his life. I cannot imagine why. Oh wait, he got syphilis at age sixteen it is believed, for which he received torturously traumatic and barbaric treatments throughout his young life...he never got beyond his youth, dying at age 33. Those treatments included mercury baths and scorching hot wires inserted into his penis, since bread mould (antibiotics) had not yet been discovered, though some "witches" had been using mouldy bread poultices on wounds with great success for centuries. Imagine that...women knowing how to dress and heal wounds hundreds of years before the great men "medicine" the barbers, the bleeders and leechers who took over the proper healing, greatly increasing the body count while the god all effing mighty church burned these good women and their healing secrets with them! All must obey and bow down (and tithe generously, very generously) to the man who shat upon the golden throne in Rome. Again, no typo. 

The Pope still shits on toilet of pure gold (no, it's not a rumor or urban legend, just a very carefully guarded secret that's been carefully scrubbed from the internet, but not from books in remember those, right? ...they have paper pages you turn by hand). His Holiness (again capitalized out of courtesy) lives in his own city-state with his own government and has his own bank and standing, armed military and investigative service, discrete and separate from Rome and Italian law. I wonder how many poor and needy could be housed, clothed, fed, medicated and temporarily sterilized until they are self-sufficient with all that useless splendor and ridiculously redundant security. Why do they maintain such a huge archive that only they and peole they deem fit can visit, under tight supervision. Art, science and history belongs to the world, not the effing Catholic church! What are they HIDING? ...but I digress. 

Where was I? Oh yes. It's no wonder Wilmot had "issues" with women. Between getting the pox from a whore and with it the knowledge of impending mental decline, which for a genius and artist of words had to be worse than the death sentence itself at age 16) the pain of a chronically inflamed liver and having that thing for a's no wonder bitterness towards women sometimes comes through in what writings we have. Of course then as now, it's the sensational stuff that's remembered. That is a sad fact of human nature. I suffer much of what he did physically and mentally, though for different reasons (toxins I was exposed to in the Army) and at a considerably older age than 3 times that,  but I can sense, along with the angst and devil may care attitude, a forlorn urgency to make every moment count as much as possible, and an irritation toward people who have so much, wealth, everything they want at their fingertips, yet still find shit to piss and moan about. Add Wilmot's harpy mother to the mix and even I could break bad.

I'm a very feminine feminist, but that woman makes me want to reach beyond the grave so I can re-kill her for what she stole from him, from us. And no, feminine feminist is not an oxymoron. The world is neither that black and white nor even simply grey; it us full of more colors than even we can see with our eyes, and that kind of complexity most certainly applies to the human psyche as well. Rochester not only saw and felt, but expressed it all with passionate vulnerability and fury that perhaps only one deep soul can express and another comprehend. It is beyond my understanding that anyone could read his words and be so blind as to see nothing but dirty sex. It's ...offensive.

Rochester writes viscerally and without the false, florid idealism that smells to me of wagon loads of flowers sent to mask the odors of a polluted and decaying aristocracy. As much as he was one of them, he was never truly one of them. He was a favorite of Charles II due to his easy wit and charming good looks in a time when bisexuality was the norm and the King filled his court with lovely young men. Charles also felt true gratitude for Henry Wilmot's sacrifice in his service, which cost him exile with his king and cost John all contact with his father growing up, and of course there was that that small matter of Henry saving the King's life, which earned him his title. Charles was proud of his young ward's valor as a officer in the Royal Navy and his scholarly accomplishments as well, as he was well known to be well read and conversant in any and all topics of interest, which was another reason he was such a favorite at court. He had many friends and few true enemies, aside from jealous husbands of lusty wives. Charles must have felt some level of responsibility for to Henry after his death because he forgave John over and over again when others would have been banished forever to the Tower for far lesser "crimes" than his--too many to begin to mention here, bu tthey are quite numerous and outrageously hilarious! 

Still, John was little more in reality than the King's pet ...made to look pretty and charm and above all behave, to beg and sing for his supper like some exotic pet bird, and if he crossed some unknown line when Charles was in the wrong mood he would be banished to his dull home in the country, where I'm sure the sound of his clock ticking down, ever more slowly with each passing season, nearly drove him mad. Yet as his mental state continued to decline, his behavior became ever more outlandish. It was the most vicious of cycles, and eternal loop of unwitting (or too witting) cause and effect.

Elizabeth Barry, Wilmot's student and  longtime mistress.

It was a painful trichotomy of existence John seemed to live, and he saw the worst of all the worlds he straddled. The world of the poor working girls in the theater where he met and trained to stardom his cruel and inconstant love, Elizabeth Barry, with whom he had a bastard child he was never allowed to see. The country life with his wife who loved to play the disdainful shepherdess to his ardent shepherd, and who, like the King, forced him to beg prettily for her favor, despite the fact that by mere marriage he had given her something more precious than all the money her wealthy family could buy, a high title in the Aristocracy and a sure place for her children for generations to come. Jordison compares her abduction and their elopement to rape, but I strongly disagree. If anyone was raped in that situation it was John, for he was the one shunned and disdained, until he finally turned away, at which point his reluctant shepherdess decided she wanted him after all. However one looks at it, their encounter was anything but rape, and was oft relived to the delight of both parties involved according to their explicit love letters.   Wilmot's widow died just a year and a month after his passing, even younger than he, at age 30, and since no record of any kind seems to exist as to cause of death, and I cannot find if she was buried in a church or family plot, I suspect cause of death may have been suicide. Sadly, her ten year old son died soon after. It is hard to say if it was an illness, "consumption" perhaps, or if she had contracted his diseases and even passed them on to their offspring through birth. One just cannot know, thanks to the ever censoring zealots of one form or another. 

That a man who lived so fully and bravely in so few years has been so completely forgotten, left untaught in our schools, due to something as foolish as religion is criminal! It is HEART BREAKING! First it was his mother and her puritanical spite. Then later, after some of his works had been lovingly reassembled by his younger friends and later by other artists, those collections and entire plays were deemed pornographic because not only did the eventual downfall into infamy or Bedlam of every rake and rogue become the butt of every joke and the lesson or moral to be learned behind every child's tale, but then to compound things along came a succession of monarchs (or they didn't come, which was probably their problem) ending up with frightfully frigid Queen Victoria, who was taught that "a well bred and Godly  married lady must turn her head away and bravely endure the intimate touch of her husband in the marriage bed, but only as a duty to her him for the purpose of procreation, and she must never take enjoyment in it." ...and so we return to, exactly WHO made the mistake here in making it all feel so freaking good, God or man? I don't care what anyone says, that icy Victorian attitude is more sick, perverted and wrong that anything, and I mean ANYTHING two fully consenting adults could possibly do together and it's certainly worse than anything anyone can say, write or draw that doesn't involve children..

And thus, John Wilmot was forced out of the art and history with full malice and intent of the royal family and the newly gelded art world. Elizabeth, his wife, did nothing but sit in a country manor home, but is remembered and referred to as "a great beauty and the fortune of the north who married the Earl of Sandwich who was a libertine and fathered four children and also had many affairs." I had to stand up and walk away from my computer for a little while before making use of the site's handy address for sending in corrections. What I really wanted to do is scream, tear my hair out, find the dim witted, presumptuous little (or large) ....person who wrote it, who cited that great purveyor of excellence in accuracy, Wikipedia, then tear his or her hair out, along with each and every fingernail, and just to insure some study on the matter before more is published, even here, where any fool can "publish" anything, cement her or his teeth together with dental bond, so as to prevent clear speech into any kind of speech recognition device. Sandwich indeed.

I know the buzz of "journalistic gnats" was of absolutely no concern to the Second Earl of Rochester, who was Noble by birth and far nobler of spirit and art than the twit Jordison and all the twits who came before and will come after him. Not one of them will ever be the slightest whisper in history, while some of the greatest literary minds of Wilmot's time and many since recognize his genius. I am just happy to live in an age in which reading his works, those that remain and have been painstakingly reassembled by publications like Poetry Foundation are available for anyone with the inclination to search for them. They are well worthy of reading for anyone with the slightest love of true literature.

Believe it or not, I could go on, but I want this read, not skipped over. I have actually removed several paragraphs I took hours to produce. Such is the life of someone with swiss cheese for a brain. I know it's overlong already, and my beloved Rochester deserves better than I could ever hope to write. I wish I could afford to pay blogger the money it takes to pay promote my blog, because "Johnny" does have fans out there...real ones, not the ones who mistake him for the sublime Mr. Depp. Plenty of love to go around. I think it's a travesty that one has to pay to do promote the written word on the internet, especially since Google already makes a fortune on other promotions.  At least in print media crap writers can't pay their way into having something published by a high quality publishing house. I think that's why books, real books, asI said, the ones with real pages, are forever. People are going to get tired of wading through the dreck people like Jordison here pay to promote when better fare is available.

Why is it people who are born rich are always treated better, and just assume they are better, when all they did was be born to parents with money? I served in the military, like Rochester. I'm going to die before my natural time due to poisoning, like Rochester, and I chose to use my, at one time genius level IQ for the betterment of the world, also like him. I chose healing, he chose the arts, both serve societ, and neither pay what they should until (except actors and very popular novelists). Still, either beats simply being a rich,  witless, useless and meaningless, and more times than not, full of self loathing.

In closing, does it surprise me that someone hack, some would-be journalist, saw a film in 2009, read a few of the easiest to find Wilmot pieces that sounded most likely to be offensive from the Internet, where, let's face it, men find what they're looking for (and I'll leave it at that for now because that is another entire post--and it's a doozie so far!). Then he thought he'd make the whole thing seem legit by listening to some village lore passed down and embellished upon since the 17th century and report it as if researched? I'd have to say no, sadly. We may have our next FoxNews anchor in the making, folks. Come on across the pond if you're not already here working for Mr. Murdoch, the troll.  

I did have a true, hearty belly laugh when reading the following, which appeared directly under Jordison's photo:

Sam Jordison is
 the author of
 Sod That: 103
 Things Not to Do 
Before You Die
 and co-editor of 
Crap Towns. 
He still hasn't written a novel.


Sounds like a truly positive kind of guy. Wish he'd do something on John Milton. I might begin to think he has more than a single brain cell bouncing around repeatedly off the inside of his otherwise fluid-filled brain pan.. 

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, will ever get this image out of my mind. It will haunt me all the days of my I was forced to use the coping mechanism I save for the most serious emergencies of the psyche--DARK HUMOR, my personal favorite. Hope you enjoy..., but I will give you fair warning. It is unsettling to say the least. Scroll down at your own risk...

It's worse than this:

And here I always thought RYAN was the bottom of the ticket...

Truly Poetic Justice...and I REALLY want to attend this birth!

And this:

And this:




Okay... here goes...

"My husband says he's going to lay off on my nightly beat-downs until I'm completely healed,
 and just focus on his other 3 wives until my rectal tear heals!"  
"Good for you, Sally, I can see the swelling is going down already from that 
re-broken jaw--wonderful! I'm so lucky Dick's a sub. I thank Father for it every day!" 
Woman in back: "What are they so happy about? We're all treated like slaves in this "gated community". I hate Utah. I can't believe I ran away from home 7 years ago just to end up some creep's "wife."
How can I get out of here?  He's late on my dose--I feel sick. Oh hell, what if I'm pregnant again? I NEED MY DOSE! Maybe I have a Valium stashed in my purse to hold me over. I can't believe he makes me show up and cheer for this ass-hat. Just keep the fake smile plastered on my face...keep the fake smile..."

Man in back: "Hi Harold. Hi Rachel. Hey, your daughter here is almost 14, right? My youngest wife is getting too old for me--almost can see her. How about we get together and do some negotiating. Remember that 40 acres of timber land you had your eye on? 
How about we discuss it after Temple? Yeah? All right!  *sniffling sounds*
 Whoa, Harold, if she's a crier I may have to cut that down to 30 acres..."
(captions by yours truly)

Those poor, indoctrinated children. Well, I suppose they're no longer children judging by the age of these Momnies. By now they are well into mid-life and part of the "great 'merKKKan Teahad"and sullying the minds of their own innocently born little bayyybees. Sigh...

And another thing that really upsets me as a Secular Pagan is that Mormons sew traditional Pagan symbols into the breasts and genital areas of their magic underwear! First Pagan holidays and festivals were usurped and then banned by death penalty by Christian zealots. I have no issue with Christianity, which would be fine if they actually followed the teachings of Yeshua bin Joseph (popularly known as Jesus) and didn't do all that filthy violent shit--you know like the Holy Wars and the Inquisition (practitioners of BDSM are forever grateful for their lesser inventions for torture however--though extreme and horrific torture OR war in the name of ANY "god" is just ludicrous to any thinking human) the burning of alleged "witches" and the torture and death of anyone NOT Catholic. How ironic that we now are so unable to understand Muslims who are going through the same growing pains Christianity did centuries ago...

Religion taken to extremes is ALWAYS TOXIC! Nature requires balance. Life can thrive no other way.

That Bible really has some history though, I mean aside from the fact that it has been translated into virtual meaninglessness, and that one can find arguments both pro and con for just about any issue in it. Oh, AND the fact that most Xtians (these are the people who call themselves Christians, but would call "Jesus" a dirty, stinking liberal, or worse, if they actually MET him) have never bothered to READ the thing, and wouldn't or didn't understand it if they did. So they pick a church or temple or just keep going to the one their parents went to, blindly following the sheep, and it's just a big social thing completely detached in any real way from worship or gratitude or being a better person...or stewards of this precious Earth.

The thing that really burns me about the Bible is the Council of Nicea, which happened in 325 AD. Good old Constantine (the real one, not the idealized, romanticized one from the film) called together all the rich and powerful men from around his world and they sat down and THEY, not "God" decided what would and would NOT be in the Catholic/Christian Bible. Most Xtians and true Christians alike are unaware of this fact. Ministers, Pastors and Priests don't dwell on this too much, but Constantine et al did indeed reject the Gnostics as a people all together because they didn't agree with "their" Christianity--it was truly a case of might makes right--and I mean that absolutely LITERALLY. In addition, other complete books, some of which the Jewish religion still keeps were rejected and the council burned complete books, scrolls and scriptures (and later on the Pope burned plenty of "sodomites" and other people too) they did not find "useful."

I may be a Pagan, but I am peaceful. I don't worship any kind of satan or dark lord because we don't believe in such, nor do we believe in hell and punishing fire and brimstone and everlasting torment...anywhere. We believe in spiritual growth through a path of learning and doing good in our lives and respecting our ancestors by making wise choices in our current lives. I do not believe in offerings of anything not intended to be consumed or burned and that does not grow naturally. I believe in making offerings...of gratitude and prayer and good deeds to my fellow human kind and most of all I believe in caring for this beautiful, magnificent world of ours.

Paganism is the oldest spiritual belief in the world and Secular Paganism is an emerging non-religious system of beliefs and ethics based upon 15 earth based principles I won't get into here. Even I can only serve up so much alphabet soup at a time. Paganism, despite being the most misunderstood of all beliefs, is the most evolved.

It's the "baby" religions, still going through growing pains during which they think theirs is the only path to truth and enlightenment, that offer the greatest danger to society. Look at early Christians and Muslim extremists with Sharia law and Jihad now. Another phrase for all that is MASS PSYCHOSIS! So judge me not and you shall not be judged. I do not believe that women and men are the same, but I believe that all humans are born with the same potential value whether male or female. None of this is unreasonable and none of this serves any dark power. I am a healer, by science and by spirit.

The Bible was edited by Constantine and a bunch of power hungry MEN to take out ALL references to women in roles of power or equality and disallowed them as Priests, paving the way for completely subservient nuns, and turned the "great book" into a means of keeping the unwashed masses in line and women in convents as a means of punishment for refusing marriage at a tender age to men old enough to be their grandfathers. If these children accepted arranged marriages, it kept them little more than a barefoot and pregnant slave class from puberty until their premature deaths by childbirth. Men who survived through the wars of the ages often outlives several wives. That was the norm. My own Grandfather outlived two and was on his third, considerably younger, wife at the time of his death in his early 70's.

That "great council" also totally obliterated all references to Mary, the greatest of Christ's Disciples, very likely his wife, given single Jewish men in their thirties were exceedingly rare in those days, and to add further insult, intentionally confused her with the whore of Babylon. And this is VERY MUCH how people like Paul Ryan and Mitt Ryan see women weaker vessels, a sub-class of beings, and if allowed to run wild, little more than whores, which is why they seek to punish female sexuality by banning abortion and making birth control prohibitively expensive, and of course ending Planned Parenthood and the women's health services such as mammograms and cervical cancer screenings they provide on a sliding fee basis.

The gist of what I'm saying is that Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan would put women, meaning over half the human beings in this nation, back to the FOURTH CENTURY! Please don't let them do that, and if you're a man or mother of sons reading this, remember...enforced child-bearing means a LOT of young (and not so young) men will be paying a LOT of child support instead of following their dreams in life. That's just logic.

Thanks for following me on this little stream of consciousness excursion. Please forgive any typos. I am seeing double and will be unable to spell check this until later. I hope you got some laughs from the pictures and captions. It was all intended in good humor. Blessings and bounty to you and yours in this Harvest Season. Don't forget to laugh. It's very good for you.