No one is innocent, but none of us are monsters. We are all damaged, no one gets out of here unsoiled. We inherit the sins of our fathers through our defective monkey genes. We are, none of us, possessors of milky white souls. Each of us is polluted by the cesspit of life, but we are human – loved and loathed – disgustingly beautiful in our glorious imperfections, beneficiaries to the cumulative hurt of uncounted generations.
It is our nature to be cosseted in the bloody membrane of the caul, never to fully cast off evolution’s legacy, but to live as hybrid apes in our own private jungles. Evolutionary adaption affords us ever greater opportunities for recreational transgression. Jezebel spirits and catamite charmers lure the righteous from the straight and narrow with seductive promises of the big pay off. Coitus interrupters and the chastened faithful, having read the scriptures thoroughly, vie for the privilege of the first stone cast – judgement, they say, meted out against our sins.
John the Revelator condemned his brothers and sisters to the tender mercies of the beast on judgement day. That’s right; they’re going to have a special day for judging and weighing souls. Our names will be in a ledger against all our various sins and in the name of love we will be adjudged and found wanting. You know it doesn’t matter what you do – those people will be judging you. Their God is a judge – their devil a jailor, their lives are prescribed by a cosmic judicial system of crimes and punishments they call religion. From Genesis to Revelations the bible talks about saving your soul, I’ve never seen a soul – I’m just looking to save my sorry arse from all these judges.