DISCARDED DRAFT DIARY OF A COFFIN DODGER CHAPTER H (DRAFT)

DRAFT

DRAFT

As I sipped the coffee, I pondered the warped sense of humanity that faith-based schooling I and my siblings sat through as it taught how important is the sanctity of the womb. A sanctity that overrides any other consideration of a girl’s or women’s well-being when fucked-up violence male violence will stuff up her life.

As long as the sanctity of the womb is protected for purposes that the church prescribes, the mental state of a girl or woman after a man or a gang of men have unleashed their violence upon her, can be addressed through a shrug of the shoulders and specious words about the life of the so-called Virgin May that sneer at the very idea of offering comfort for the terrifying, violent ordeal a girl or a woman has been through.

This male violence is given a wink, and a nod by the male leaders and their acolytes of this Christian church because they, too, see a value in enabling male violence against women.

In that church’s case, this violence takes the shape of their own formulation of the hold ordained Christian men impose on the lives of girls and women.

A hold, like a man’s tight hand grip around the neck of a woman, gently but purposefully squeezing her throat, that calmly and deliberately squeezes the life choices out of the lives of girls and women if they show a tendency to live independently of the control of men.

This hold is relaxed but never removed when girls and women follow the path set out for them by the male-centric values of that Christian church.

This hold reveals its barbaric male-centric strength when it squeezes tightly against the creative power women have to bring life into the world.

As men do not have this power, the full fury of the men and their acolytes of this church is directed at a symbol of that power, the womb. Women’s reproductive choices become the target of this fury in a way that men’s reproductive rights never are.

Girl students attending this church’s schools will be groomed to believe, from the day they enter their first classroom, that the only part of their body that has any value is their womb.

An organ deemed to be so valuable by the men ruling this church that it is not to be used for purposes solely determined by girls or women.

Because those wombs are an invaluable part of the network of controls that both priests and the College of Bishops exercise over the lives of those girl students.

Controls that are promulgated by an older male living in a place in Rome.

A man who will never know the names of these girl students, or even if they are children or teenagers, let alone what their individual interests or dreams may be. But he thinks deeply about their wombs and the use to which they are put.

A use that is to be at the sole say-so of that older pale male as he wanders the corridors of his vast palace pondering that matter.

The girl students, attending that man’s schools scattered across the world, are to be discouraged from thinking, unlike the boys attending the same schools, that their bodies are their own.

These girls are to be emotionally manipulated from any consideration that their wombs are more than just the young virginal organs that the pale male in his palace thinks about.

If a girl or woman strays from that man's way of and decides that the use of her womb is to be at her discretion, then that female person, whether a child, a teenager or an adult, will face the furious violence of the edicts that man promulgates.

A determination that those girls and women make that they have the right, independent of the fantasies of that man and his acolytes, to use their creative power as solely determined by them. Their wombs are not just organs there to be the playthings of these men, but are part of a wonderful whole, the creative power these girls and women have to bring life into the world.

I wonder as this pale male wanders through the many rooms of his vast palace in Rome does his tongue, or the tongues of the men accompanying him, flicker around their lips when they glance at the pictures of Mary with a baby bump adorning the walls of the palace corridors?

Or, where do you think his mind goes, or the imaginations of the men also residing in that palace go, when they gaze at the sexualised images of the male-named Virgin Mary which decorate the rooms in that palace?

Does it, perchance, stray along the path of a male school teacher at the front of a classroom of young girls when he notices a missing button on the blouse of one of the students? A path stimulated by a sight, meant to be hidden and therefore enticing to the male heterosexual imagination, of young, female flesh.

We may never know.

Having rejected the God of no name and that God’s message of liberation to Joseph in his relationships with women, the leaders of this church have turned towards another power, that is objectified and portrayed in all kinds of deep, dark and mythological ways, to exert control over women.

A power said to have cavorted with women in sexual ways, and therefore, according to men, immoral. Alleged acts that provided men with a social veneer to their unleashing of unconstrained violence in the torture and murder of hundreds of women in the so-called witch trials carried out in both Europe and America.

A power that the male-centric ideology of this church willingly embraces as the male leaders of this church and their acolytes unleash violence against women’s reproductive choices.

Twisted, demonic violence against those choices designed to ensure that wombs are brought under the control of men curtailing the women's freedom to unleash the creative power of their reproductive rights.

Controls rationalised through the silver-tongued platitudes of men, that have the one cruel, savage foundation: to destroy any attempt for women to gain the unfettered choices men have granted to themselves.

The God of no name has shown that men do not have to let slip into the world the dark, demonic power of male violence against women.

Depictions of Mary were painted with images of what the male mind considered to be the ideal women’s tits at the time the paintings were created.

Bare breasts in the days before the ubiquitous spread of pornography through mass media and the internet to give blokes a socially accepted hard-on as they stood in front of paintings of the so-called Virgin Mary ogling the male painters’ depiction of her breasts.

Breasts they could imagine lying under the clothed statues of the Virgin Mary decorating cathedrals, chapels, monasteries or the homes of priests.

Cold plaster, plastic or concrete statues that could never lessen the warmth of tingling in the loins of male clergy as they got on with the business of a deeply satisfying wank as they lay in their beds in the wee, small hours of darkness before the dawn beckoned them to their priestly or apostolate duties.

A jerking off leaving stains on the handkerchiefs house keepers gossiped about amongst themselves as they did the priestly laundry. Stains from a squirting session fed by the male fetishisation of Mary’s physicality.

This dark purpose, enacted towards women over tens of thousands of years, has led to genetic modifications in men’s DNA. A genetic modification which means men’s violence towards women will be as natural as the air men breathe.

A genetic fault line men display time and time again, as they deny accountability for their violence towards women, with the mantra, spoken in countless languages in numerous societies and cultures across time and the world, of ‘She made me do it!’

This genetic modification is also blatantly on show whenever men spruik messages about the dangers to women that lurk in public spaces.

Patronising messages that have little to do with their avowed purpose of keeping women safe.

Typical male duplicitous messages where their expressed intent has nothing to do with their purpose.

The purpose as always is the control of women and, in this case, the use of fear to prevent women from exercising their rights to move freely around the world. A right granted to the men who promulgate these messages of fear.

Messages that, because of those genetic modifications, come easily to the hive minds of men in their abject horrifying blindness to see that the real basis of that fear is men themselves and the savage violence that they bring into the lives of women.

A violence that is exemplified by these messages of fear and their covert attempt to corral the lives of women into male perceptions of how women are to live their lives.

Whether it be the cruelty and horror of violently imposing restrictions on women’s fertility rights or any of the other male-sanctioned means, both subtle and overt, of defining women’s lives through the prism of men’s needs, desires and wants, this genetic inheritance, as Joseph demonstrated need not define men’s relationships with women.

The business of December 25 is another piece of slick marketing (like the Coca-Cola company giving Santa Claus red trousers and a red coat) by the Jesus Crew.

Pushing into what is now Northern Europe, the Jesus Crew, having successfully dealt with the claims of John the Baptist’s Crew and the claims of numerous self-proclaimed messiahs, were confronted with another threat by the Winter Solstice Festivals.

This was held on the 21st of December; a vast cavalcade of festivals involving what the Jesus Crew considered to be pagan rites and gods. Pagan gods, whom the Jesus Crew considered posed a threat to their claim that their God, the God of the Christians, is the one and only God.

Having downplayed the humanity and acceptance Joseph, after answering the call of God, brought into his relationship with Mary, the Jesus Crew, disregarding the beauty and hope of that inspiring in-breaking of the God with no name, set out to crush these festivals.

Given their size and the number of people involved, the Jesus Crew could not take on these festivals directly. And, as the Roman Festival of Saturnalia ended on the 24th of December, the Jesus Crew picked a day in the calendar that was clear of both festivals but close enough to both to give their celebration significance.

Therefore, they promoted their own festival on the 25th of December where they proclaimed their man as The Man.

To give this claim the stamp of legitimacy and authenticity the Jesus Crew spruiked narratives ( like the ones now found in the Gospels of Mathew and Luke) based on truckloads of gaslighting and just plain, everyday bullshitting.

As this stamp has largely gone unchallenged for two thousand years, questions must be asked of men as to why they so readily will not heed the voices of women and why men continually attempt to silence those voices with the slanderous sweeping misogynistic assertion that the voices of women and girls doesn't have similar standing to the voices of men.

Though the Jesus Crew's festival lacked the mix of merriment and solemnity of the Mid-Winter Festivals, it was held inside a building.

As good a place as any to shelter from winter storms for the crowds who were dragooned into attending.

And why not take the opportunity to catch up with the neighbours while the priests at the front of the building babbled on in a language the crowd in the building did not understand? After all, you could be snow bound for weeks and not see the neighbours until the snow melted.