Daughters of the American Revolution

Daughters of the American Revolution:  a patriotic society of women descended from Americans of the Revolutionary period, organized in 1890

I will receive no applause, acclamation, nor much readership by sharing this. Nonetheless, I will do it to promote the sanity of our species and grant peace on Earth a chance to give goodwill to men.

No one is special.

When we started believing some people were special, it opened the Pandora’s box brought about by the belief in equality. For if all men are created equal, and we have found some men to be special, therefore, aren’t all men (and women) special?

From that position, we developed the doctrine of uniqueness—“there’s no one exactly like me.”

“I am a daughter of the American Revolution…”

…which actually  means that many generations back, your great-great-great-great grandmother had sexual intercourse with a revolutionary man who was about to be hung by the British Empire.

Because that particular revolution panned out pretty well, I am allowed to feel proud of my old Grandma, and even to assert that I have maintained a drop or two of “special blood” through the process.

Let us not even consider the reality of mutations.

Because a study of DNA immediately informs us that talents, character and attributes are not transferable in entirely through the double-helix.

But as long as we can convince ourselves that we’re special, we might just feel a little better about how mediocre our lives have seemingly turned out to be.

Of course, I’m not nearly as special if you’re special, too.

A debate on who or what might be more special seems childish. So to be special, I must insist that you are ordinary, or even cursed by birth.

So it may appear noble to be a Daughter of the American Revolution, but since you weren’t there, didn’t sew any new flags, or put bandages on amputated limbs, you must understand that it just doesn’t mean shit.

 

Cupid

Cupid: (n) the ancient Roman god of love represented as a winged, naked, infant boy with a bow and arrows.

Romance is idiotic.

This doesn’t mean it’s not amazing.

I’m not trying to tell you there isn’t great joy in the percolation of human sexuality.

Romance is idiotic because the justifications we generate to permit ourselves to “swoon in June by the light of the silvery moon” are downright hilariously ignorant.

I laugh whenever I hear two lovers explain that they can’t help themselves.

“The heart wants what the heart wants.”

I’m not so sure the heart has much to do with it.

But the lust wants what the lust wants.

That’s darned tootin’ true.

To further justify the erratic tendencies of romance, we have borrowed this character from mythology—Cupid.

He shoots arrows, you know.

They are arrows of love.

I think that is definitely an oxymoron.

Or it’s simply a misplacement of a vowel or a consonant, which should actually read:

“The eros of love.”

Eros is the Greek word for sexual intercourse.

So a man with a wife and three children will swear before the Supreme Court that Cupid shot him with an arrow, and that is why he ended up screwing his twenty-two-year-old secretary.

He will be very sincere.

He might even cry about the deep affection he has suddenly acquired.

But one of the greatest truths we can impart to ourselves as men is that having an erect penis is not permission to continue. And as women, getting wet may require going somewhere to dry out.

It is not an issue of decency.

It is an attempt to keep us from acting like rabbits living in a hole, constantly searching for a hole.

We may not like the responsibility of tempering our sexuality—becoming more adept at dodging Cupid’s arrows—but we owe it to ourselves to rationally and purposefully exchange seventy years of peace of mind for seven seconds of juicy pleasure.

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Clumsy

Clumsy: (adj) awkward in movement or in handling things.

Sexual intercourse looks dumb.

It is so awkward and clumsy that when we first meet a potential mating partner we have to get ourselves all worked up–sometimes drunk--to participate in the ritual, and then, after several months or years of interacting, marriage often occurs, where no one is quite able to get as worked up again, so merely on the stimulus of doing the act, we often find ourselves embarrassed, if not unmotivated.

It’s clumsy.

What makes it even more clumsy are people who think they are adept, talented or professional at it. Then it becomes similar to a bull in the pen, bragging about his graceful ability to take a dump.

What truly makes sex significant and endearing is how clumsy it is. If both parties would submit to the stumbling aspects of the action, giggle a little bit more and listen to one another, it could continue to be pleasurable for a long time.

But we view it with a funeral-home grimness.

How can anything be important if monkeys can do it eight times in an hour? Really??

Is there such a thing as a sacred vagina or a sanctified penis?

It’s clumsy.

And if we discuss it too much as if it’s a pertinent issue, the clumsiness of it becomes ridiculous, and we, fools for approaching the topic with such gravitas.

I’m clumsy. I’ve never been with anyone who isn’t clumsy. Although some people insist they are excellent lovers, the truth of the matter is, they have an over-exaggerated sense of their own prowess, which is not necessarily shared by their bedfellow.

Let’s relax.

Things that should be clumsy, like sex, are regaled as great art forms. Things that should be meaningful, like concern for one another and kindness, are treated as lowly.

This would be a good place to start. Have a serious conversation with your love partner about how to be kind to your neighbors, and when you get done, run to the bedroom and have clumsy sex…and laugh about it.

 

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Burlesque

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Burlesque: (n) a variety show, typically including striptease.

There are certain words that evoke an immediate reaction–usually either shock or giggles.

It’s amazing to me that we actually become mature adults, but still insist on acting surprised or chuckling nervously about subjects that we think are “inappropriate.”

They are not unpleasant issues.

For instance, orgasm.

I would guess that if orgasms were put up for a vote in this country–pardon the expression, up or down–that people would cross party lines and even the Bible Belt would unbuckle.

Another word is masturbation.

I grew up in an era when it was considered to be evil, spent my adult years when it was perceived acceptable but taboo, and now you occasionally run across someone who actually speaks the word out loud in a conversation at Applebee’s.

It’s also true with the word burlesque.

Even though the shows involved comedians, jugglers, dancers and sometimes even animal acts, burlesque will always be remembered as a platform for strip-tease.

It’s amazing that even though each and every one of us do at least one or two strip-teases each day, we feel that it is gauche in front of footlights.

Well, I’m not connoting that I, myself, would attend a burlesque show to see such a strip-down performance, I just think it is humorous that we are so picky about what we deem unconscionable.

We let our children watch kids being poisoned by gas in Syria, but would be absolutely horrified if they ever saw a titty.

I don’t know what the right thing is. I certainly have grave misgivings about pornography.

But since the removal of clothing leads to one of three experiences–showering, sleeping or sexual intercourse–and I don’t find any one of those to be unpleasant, I will reserve my judgment on criticizing those who have the fortunate DNA of being attractive enough to stand and disrobe in front of the public.

 

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Bawdy

Bawdy: (adj) dealing with sexual matters in a comical way; humorously indecent.Dictionary B

Somewhere between porn and Puritan lies perfectly hilarious.

I have never been interested in pornography, and honestly, even less drawn to the life of the pilgrim.

Human sexuality is comical. Actually, it’s downright silly.

Even though some people videotape themselves having sexual intercourse, most of us would run away from such a viewing in a combination of embarrassment and horror.

Why? Because for those brief moments when we’re seeking pleasure, we also tend to reject all forms of pride and civilization.

Who cares?

All I know is that when we trivialize sexuality and make it merely a physical act, it normally develops tinges of violence.

When we say it is sacred and must be blessed by God’s presence, we repress our sexual instincts and invite perversion to create a playground in our being.

I am often bawdy.

Raising a bunch of sons, I joked with them and made it clear that sex was not a taboo subject, nor was it hatched in the heavens, surrounded by prayers.

It is one of the most important balances we can achieve: to land our understanding of human sexuality somewhere between monkey and angel.

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Ascetic

Ascetic: (adj) characterized by the practice of severe self-discipline and abstention from all forms of indulgence, typically for religious reasons.dictionary with letter A

“What are you giving up for Lent?” the gentleman asked me.

Without hesitation I replied, “Lent.”

Forgive me. I don’t get it.

If we believe the story–I mean the one about God–His entire idea for human beings was to make a beautiful garden filled with excellent work, delicious food and sexual intercourse readily available (because everybody was naked).

Am I correct here? Maybe you don’t like my phrasing, but you can’t deny my facts.

So why would He all of a sudden turn into this prude who is angry with human beings for being human? So angry, it would seem, that He is constantly requesting that we do religious activities that are often anti-human.

  • For of a truth, I don’t think any Muslim would actually kneel on a rug to pray many times a day if his personal preferences were brought to the forefront.
  • Nor do I think any Jew would really like to abstain from bacon.
  • And Christians seem to have an inclination that unless they continually consider the suffering and death of Jesus Christ, they have missed the whole point of salvation.

I look at it the same way I did parenting. If I needed my kids to take out the garbage, I could either beat them into submission, or find a way to make it rewarding and fun. If I was going to be a crummy dad, I could insist they learn to appreciate the importance of garbage removal, but honestly, I realized that was never going to happen. So I chose to stimulate their intrigue with the chore by either making it a game or by offering some allowance.

I did this because my children are Homo sapiens and mortal–not little angels or gods.

If it is necessary to give up something to get to heaven, and I have no evidence of what heaven is really like or whether it actually exists, I more than likely will opt for the choice that is visible in front of me.

Human beings need to be entertained when they’re inspired, and preferably inspired when they’re entertained.

So that is why I have decided to give up Lent.

Because any God who is impressed by me sacrificing my Milky Way candy bars for forty days is probably going to find something else I do that pisses Him off.

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Adultery

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter AAdultery: n) voluntary sexual intercourse between a married person and a person who is not his or her spouse.

Thou shalt not commit adultery.”

Yeah. That should handle it–similar to attempting to conserve oxygen by asking people to hold their breath.

Sex is not optional. It is essential to the human being–not because of the physical release, nor merely because of the intimacy. It is the blending of playfulness with a demand to confirm that we are attractive.

Thus, the reason why the practice becomes common and often distasteful in elongated relationships. Very simply, we remove the danger. We take away the lust and replace it with undying love. And true enough, maybe the love doesn’t die, but all the parts around it do.

Adultery will continue to be popular because people will flirt, and in the process of doing so, will discover they are attractive and instinctively follow up on that, even though later on they may feel guilty or find themselves in divorce court.

What we should be doing is holding seminars on how men and women can get along, be playful, flirt, and even agree to withhold sexual intercourse in order to enhance the spiciness of it instead of continually promoting the idea that the sexes are destructive to one another, suffering from irreconcilable differences.

I get tired of the word “unfaithful.” If we really think that faith is something we can possess without the evidence of works to follow, we are in “dreamy land” and are expressing an erroneous psychology instead of truly understanding human beings.

We lose interest because we’ve stopped being playful, removed the danger, ceased flirting and have passed on the impression that we’re “not quite as hot for each other.”

After all, there’s no such thing as having sex. It’s an awkward, stumbling, childish, foolish, clumsy, delightful, adolescent, jubilant, silly explosion–an accidental decision leading us to roll over on our backs, thinking: “I wonder if I should have done that.”

There’s no reason you can’t keep those elements in a marriage, as long as both parties understand that remaining appealing to one another is not just primping the outer features, but also constantly evolving the inner self.

I think using the term “adultery” is Old Testament. It’s really a fling. Sometimes we try to justify it; most of the time we avoid it.

But no one will be honest enough to say that adultery is inevitable if we allow the communication between each other to come only in one flavor … vanilla.