"Art, like morality, consists of drawing the line somewhere."
--G.K. Chesterton
"The man's body is sacred and the woman's body is sacred.../Each belongs here or anywhere just as much as the well-off, just as much as you."
--Walt Whitman
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According to the Buddha, right speech is a statement that is timely, true, kind, helpful (connected to liberation), and spoken with a mind of good-will. Let us all try to observe this precept.
I discovered the Scissor Sisters in a (possibly apocryphal) forwarded email in which a conservative pastor was warning parents about cultural influences that would turn their children gay. It's working.
(The song is only 2:36 minutes but all the videos I could find on YouTube were 3:51 minutes, with an extra minute of dead air at the end. Is it meant to symbolize The Void? Listen and decide.)
Intermission
When you're standing on the side of a hill
Feeling like your day may be done
Here it comes, strawberry smog
Chasing away the sun
Don't let those precious moments fool you
Happiness is getting you down
A rainbow never smiles or blinks
It's just a candy colored frown
You were going on at half-past seven
Now it's going on a quarter to nine
All the angels want to know
Are you lost or treading water?
And you're going on your fifteenth bender
But you've only got a matter of time
Yes we've all got seeds to sow
Not everyone's got lambs to slaughter
When the night wind starts to turn
Into the ocean breeze
And the dew drops sting and burn
Like angry honey bees
That is when you hear the song falling from the sky
Happy yesterday to all
We were born to die
Sometimes you're filled with the notion
The afterlife's a moment away
You want to tell someone the way that you feel
But then you ain't got nothing to say
You fight for freedom from devotion
A battle that will always begin
With somebody giving you a piece of advice;
By the way you're living in sin
Now there's never gonna be an intermission
But there'll always be a closing night
Never entertain those visions
Lest you may have packed your baggage
First impressions are cheap auditions
Situations are long goodbyes
Truth so often to living dormant
Good luck walks and bullshit flies
When the headlights guide your way
You know the place is right
When the treetops sing and sway
Don't go to sleep tonight
That is when you see the sign
Luminous and high:
Tomorrow's not what it used to be
We were born to die
Happy yesterday to all
We were born to die
