Blog, Sex

Founding My Own Religion

1333717259083Wanna hear something funny? At one point I wanted to found a religion. Seriously. Well, maybe not a religion, per se. But, more of a philosophical movement. Basically, I wanted to take the hippie movement from the 60’s, merge it with the materialism movement of the 90’s and give it a mystical physicality, something akin to the “Wynken de Wilde” subplot in Memnoch the Devil, by Anne Rice. Just the kind of sexuality, mixed with the idea that sex is great, an a necessary part of the human experience and to revel in it, rather than subscribe to the religious hatred that religion has for all sexual activity in general.

The idea of preaching love and forgiveness, the whole “Let It Be” attitude, combined with relentless self-improvement.

The whole idea was the notion that this life is all there is, and you should strive to squeeze the most out of it. To never let a second go by that didn’t serve a purpose. Sexuality is a massive part of it only because it is such a massive part of my life. Reason being, I find that life’s greatest lessons can only be learned within the sweat and physical closeness that comes from sex.

It would have touted the idea that what you put into your body and mind comprises the totality of your existence. The past only matters as a learning tool, the future only matters as a purpose for setting goals, because the present is all that really matters. It would have made a statue of the idea that being imperfect IS perfection. It would make it okay to want to be who you are, rather than fit into a little demographic that means nothing to you. Iconoclasm would be the norm, in a effort to define a new archetype. An archetype that wasn’t “counter-culture” but quite literally countered the culture.

An archetype that dismisses jealousy as quackery.

I pictured having a whole bunch of people sitting on blankets under the springtime sun, while I ranted on about love and the necessities of the flesh and how the reversal of the violent and competitive tendencies could change the world. I pictured living a life of voluntary simplicity and waking up surrounded by people. Communal living and such.

It probably would have been cool. However, I’m sure it would have been a failure. The 60’s had its time. The ideas of “free love” and other such concepts of personal freedom are being crushed under the feet of the asshole Conservative morality machine. The idea of embracing your potential, sexuality and by proxy your humanity is such a scary thing for those of Conservative bent. It’s the elephant in the room.

The idea of personal expression is so abhorrent to these mouth breathers that to call yourself a sensualist, hedonist or materialist identifies you as the enemy. Acknowledging that you have genitals or like the way a fabric feels against your skin, or want to better yourself? To these people, it’s like garlic to a vampire.

Or, maybe I just wanted a reason to bash conservatives in a blog. Whatever.

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