Innocent Pay for the Guilty Few
Tuesday, 30. December 2008 0:05
You know, I wonder about people a lot, and about myself as well. I think at times that somehow the population has gotten dumber, or has simply turned their back on values and ethics. Yet perhaps, the fault lies with me, or my inability to change with the times. I don’t know which, because to me, being nice is easier than being a dick head, yet it seems more & more people are looking for fights, for arguments, instead of calm discussion.
Words like ‘boy’ become taboo in erotic writing, because some uptight zealot construes the meaning to be about underage children, or thinks it is some hidden code word for the evil Gay Agenda. ( By the way, I am still trying to find anyone who can enlightened me on just what is the Gay Agenda, and I have been out and proud for over 30 years now, & I still don’t know. ) Today it seems that nothing is judged on its context, but on the word itself.
Kids are taught to say ‘that is so gay’ in a derogatory way, ( meaning lame ) which makes me wonder, what is it about parents today? Oh hell, never mind parents how about leaders like George Bush, Stephen Harper, & Pope Benedict? What the hell did some gay do to them, that they revile homosexuals so much?
WORSE is that it makes writing more difficult. It creates a false impression of life, which it shouldn’t. Oh sure, some write simply to get people off, but many also try to use their writing abilities, to bridge gaps between the sides, between the factions of society. Maybe it is me, maybe I am imagining that having a bridge between those who oppose homosexuality and those who embrace it, is wrong. Yet something inside, says bridges have to be built, have to be constructed, if society itself is to survive.
Maybe it comes from wanting to just have our heads buried in the sand, but I don’t know, how many true to life 20 year old virgins do you know? When did you first experience sex, when you were eighteen or a darn site younger? See, that is what gets me, we say kids aren’t legal until eighteen, that certain things can’t be discussed, can’t be shown, but we forget, we knew it pretty well long before our eighteenth birthday.
Category:Joys of Writing | Comment (0) | Autor: gaystoryman
