A vox in the henhouse

There is a curious murmuring, in among the vox populi, that the youth and, indeed, entire younger generation of today's society is all too interested in 'matters of the flesh'. This is, in fact, a fallacy and ,moreover, a heresy; It is the lack of acceptance, inherent in today's society, of the discussion and exploration of the entire sexual gamut of experience, that so stunts the sexual and emotional vernacular of the very generations they deplore.

There have been ages of 'free love' and great periods of exploration in the arena of sexual encounters. What is lacking, on the other hand, is a free,open and non-judgmental public forum (by which I do not mean to refer to the internet's definition of 'forum', but more to indicate the origins of that word which are that a public forum being a gathering or meeting of minds), wherein people can discuss and learn from the sexual experience of others.

This rather lengthy prologue leads me on to the true crime of this stray social patriarchal figure, ever looking over your shoulder, the 'vox in the henhouse' as it were. The true crime being the thousands of bastard children left in it's wake. I speak not of the literal bastard children left behind in this onslaught of naivety, but of the morons who are so idiotic when around their peers, especially those to whom they are sexually attracted. These poor souls have no hope of developing as sexual beings as they are unable to communicate with others about anything sexual, and as such are less likely to learn.

I have to admit I begin to lose my own, invariably important, point, and so will close with a thought:

'They have said that knowledge is power; and from that grown wealthy. For they knew that is it not knowledge that grants power, but the distance that knowledge has traveled. As they shared the power of knowledge, through the hearts and tongues of man, so to did their power over man's mind grow. So it came to be that, to lessens mankind's resolve, all that was needed was restrict that bounty of knowledge which one was free, turning it from a harvest to a ration. The cruel trick lay in convincing man that it be his choice.'

Hmm, very strange yet again. Well enjoy the wine that has, this eve, been squeezed from my mind grapes.

Yours,
The Inert Nomad

If roses are red and violets are blue, how do you explain love to the colour-blind

It's is a sad and trying fact that love is used as a wrecking ball to our defence against commercial immersion. Much as an ancient piece of architecture, an enigma poised in front of our eyes, as the pyramids were to their discoverers, baffles those who seek to find a science behind the beauty of a statue; Films, television series and, even, the events that unfold within a social group, will ever convince the unwitting population of any society. Instilling them with the virtuous cry of "I believe in love at first sight!' and "You had me at hello!"

This is not a thing to take pride in. All of us have those moments in life, and some have those lives based in those moments, where we will gives way to need and we sink into a world not our own. A facsimile of our existence, shown on a screen, with friendly characters and trials that seem all too familiar, is enough to relive you of heavy thoughts, most, probably innocuous in their nature, but all the same enough to weary a mind.

The point of this tale, dear friends is to indicate the flaw of humanity's inner Shakespeare, ever compelling romeo to ask "What light through yonder window breaks." Waiting with baited breath, and a sigh of relief when it hears "It is the east, and Juliet is the sun." So that when in real life Romeo turns out to be an absolute bastard, only interested in one thing, the human race recoils in shock and amazement. The same for today's Romeo, upon suiting his dear Juliette, pronouncing her beauty to be, to him, like the rising of the sun, is surprised upon hearing his maiden refer to him as a nancy and too clingy by far.

The lesson here, gentle folk, is to have faith in love, for it is faith that can make the blind see and a man walk on water, but do not believe in it, for belief is that desperation that makes a man kill that which threatens his belief, for that is all he knows.

This has been incredibly odd, but it did warn you that I would most likely be somewhat less than the image of sobriety during these interludes from reality. So I offer no apology, only the best of intension's in the most misguided of areas.

Yours,
The Inert Nomad