Human sexual paraphilias are more common than people think. Most peoples don’t advertise their kinks….but why should they? (Concensual parameters apply, obviously)
M27, Laripu tells of attending Concordia University in Montreal. You can find that in the first cartoon that comes up from searching the transcripts with “sheesh”. I think he also wanted to be known for not a being USA citizen after the ascendance of the MAGAs. I can see his point. I googled his moniker and got a result for Alarippu, an interesting hit.
I am indeed a Canadian citizen, but I am also a US citizen living in Florida, retired. I’ve entirely abandoned software engineering, and mathematical modelling. I now shop for food, cook for my wife and myself, take care of her and write poetry. Much of my poetry is atheistic and involves science. Some of it appears to be very silly, which hides the philosophical intent. You can find all of it, over 100 examples, on my Facebook profile. (To which I won’t provide a link, but you clever people can figure it out. I don’t accept any Facebook friends ever, but the profile is open to read and comment.)
Here are recent examples:
Wabi-sabi¹
Wabi-sabi, kemoosahbee,
that’s where my thoughts are now:
a pot of soup smell in the air.
When does wood become a chair?
When do molecules in soup
lose their chicken-ness, become
my legs and arms, my nose, my bum?
Was the chair a chair, when still a tree?
Was that chicken really me?
Everything is something.
and everything is something else.
Distant molecules are me.
You’re a chair and I’m a tree.
Meet a quark. (“Charmed, I’m sure.”)
It’s both a particle and curd.
Some things happens with no reason.
Some things happen with only a pretext.
We’re as ignorant as chickens,
not knowing what fresh hell comes next.
Virtue hides in commonplace rags.
These lines are in praise
of middle class morality,
which the poor can’t afford
and the rich never need.
A stance that protects
what was hard-fought won.
Glass of milk in the evening
to bring on sleep:
the worry the worry the neighbors the lawn.
The rich buy their way out of any infraction,
the poor take advantage of every distraction,
the immigrant child attains a degree.
It’s a tenuous perch
in a cage for a fringe,
the hard working fringe of the working class.
There’s no place I’d rather be, dear.
I’ve always loved you, let me show you.
Here, I’ll pay for your cozy pyjamas.
This one is hidden by Facebook, probably due to the phrase “dead babies”.
Prayer makes dead babies
Inert mobile over crib.
Blanket, never soiled.
Prayer makes dead babies¹
when no doctors intervene.
Rely on myth, get a box
and a marker stone.
Prayer makes dead babies²
that hospitals have never seen.
Newborns dead within a week.
Newborns died in pain.
Prayer makes dead babies.³
Prayers in vain, obscene.
ignatz:
“the immigrant child attains a degree.”
Thomas Sowell speaks of middleman immigrants (such as Jews and expat Chinese) who show up in a country penniless, but nonetheless attain success; and this earns the hatred of locals who wonder why.
Ignatz:
I blame bad strategizing. The winning strategy is to bring the child to the doctor and _then_ pray hard. That way, if the child dies then they can blame the doctors, and if the child recovers then they can credit God. Easy-peasy.
paradoctor:
My parents were Holocaust refugees who arrived in Montreal in 1951, immigrating from where they wound up after the war. That was an Austrian DP camp run by Americans. They worked their asses off, my father in a clothing factory that wasn’t air-conditioned. My mother worked for a kosher caterer on an occasional basis. She would come home with burns on her arms from the huge pots, but with multiple grocery bags filled with leftover food that hadn’t been served to guests. (The caterer allowed the help to do that as a perk. It kept salaries low and was a tax write-off.)
My parents bought a small house with a mortgage in 1968. It had an upper floor, rented out to help pay the mortgage. A few years later, my father was asked by a local French Canadian man (who was in the same clothing manufacturing union) why we were able to do that, when locals worked just as hard but couldn’t. My father ran down the list of things we didn’t have or do that this other man did:
– No travel during holidays, except once to a wedding in NYC, and once to a relative in Detroit, by bus, not plane. The other man flew to Florida with his wife once a year. His wife did not work outside the home.
– No alcohol, except a shot of Canadian whisky once a week, Friday with the evening meal. The other man went through 24 beers a week.
– No cars, only public transport. (And in fact until I was 11, my father often walked to work. Once when I was 4, I remember he was very late because of a snowstorm.) The other man and his wife each had a car.
– No restaurants, ever. But lots of wedding food brought home when my mother was called to an event by the catering business, about twice a month for two 12-hour days running. The other man regularly brought his family to a restaurant and sometimes went to a tavern to drink with his buddies.
– My father often sewed clothing for us, since that was his trade. I also wore hand me down clothing from my older brother. When money was tight, if my shoes had holes, my parents put layers of cardboard inside until their savings goals has been met. The other man’s family bought fashionable clothing.
I’m certain many families lived like this, and not just immigrant families. But it’s only immigrant families that get this kind of question. Not just Jews and Chinese. I remember Greek and Italian immigrants in Montreal being subjected to it too. Immigrants are self-selecting: they have the gumption to go somewhere new and the will to exert the effort for a better life for their children.
My wife was an immigrant from Germany to Canada. She tells much the same story about living in Montreal. We are both immigrants to the United States. I mostly don’t experience prejudice here, because I’m white and speak a more precise style of English than many locals. (When I was working, I got multiple snarky comments from one of my group leaders at work about being Jewish.) My wife has experienced some prejudice here, likely because of her German accent.
Jesus & Mo (the characters) are absurd, blinkered, and oddly very sweet. J&M (the cartoon) is brilliant: sharp, delicious, irresistible. Salman Rushdie
Jesus and Mo cartoons are wonderfully funny and true. Richard Dawkins
Jesus and Mo make the world a better place, bless their little hearts. Ophelia Benson
In a world defined by outrage and offence and liberal spinelessness, Jesus and Mo is a treasure, whose value we should never fail to recognize. Read them. Laugh. And think. Kenan Malik
The brilliant, celebrated, freaking hilarious atheist comic strip ... Greta Christina
...rays of sanity in a befuddled world. Keri Hulme
The liveliest depictions of Muhammad currently available... Malise Ruthven
J & Mo is the funniest and most consistently thought-provoking cartoon strip on the Net. In a saner world, it would run in a major newspaper. Nelson Jones, Heresy Corner
Consistently amusing, frequently thought-provoking and often heart-warming. New Humanist
Jesus & Mo is one of the most wonderful things on the internet.. JT Eberhard
Wittily captures much of the absurdity of religious apologetics. Mano Singham
I love jesusandmo.net cartoons - witty and sharp! Katha Pollitt
Often hilarious, frequently wry, these cartoons do what all the best cartoons do: they tell the truth through humour. Terry Sanderson, NSS President
...a wonderfully acid British cartoonist... Nick Cohen
I love the scrappy mockery of Jesus and Mo. Freedom of speech
includes the freedom to mock any person, any thing, any activity, and
any belief -- and J&M stands up for this unflinchingly Richard Stallman
...empowering, important and deeply progressive, not to mention hilarious... Council of Ex-Muslims
April 24, 2024
Whatever it is, I’m against it.
The ridicule of the sincerely held beliefs of millions is so much fun. This is a good one author.
FUBAR is the new normal.
Human sexual paraphilias are more common than people think. Most peoples don’t advertise their kinks….but why should they? (Concensual parameters apply, obviously)
Where is Laripu? Always on point and factual. Where is our Canadian friend these days?
How did you.know he was from the land of multi million lakes?
M27, Laripu tells of attending Concordia University in Montreal. You can find that in the first cartoon that comes up from searching the transcripts with “sheesh”. I think he also wanted to be known for not a being USA citizen after the ascendance of the MAGAs. I can see his point. I googled his moniker and got a result for Alarippu, an interesting hit.
It’s true about Jinn, I have about 7 different kinds in my bar, my mrs loves it….
@postdoggerel, I exist (I think), unlike gods. 🙂
I am indeed a Canadian citizen, but I am also a US citizen living in Florida, retired. I’ve entirely abandoned software engineering, and mathematical modelling. I now shop for food, cook for my wife and myself, take care of her and write poetry. Much of my poetry is atheistic and involves science. Some of it appears to be very silly, which hides the philosophical intent. You can find all of it, over 100 examples, on my Facebook profile. (To which I won’t provide a link, but you clever people can figure it out. I don’t accept any Facebook friends ever, but the profile is open to read and comment.)
Here are recent examples:
Wabi-sabi¹
Wabi-sabi, kemoosahbee,
that’s where my thoughts are now:
a pot of soup smell in the air.
When does wood become a chair?
When do molecules in soup
lose their chicken-ness, become
my legs and arms, my nose, my bum?
Was the chair a chair, when still a tree?
Was that chicken really me?
Everything is something.
and everything is something else.
Distant molecules are me.
You’re a chair and I’m a tree.
Meet a quark. (“Charmed, I’m sure.”)
It’s both a particle and curd.
Some things happens with no reason.
Some things happen with only a pretext.
We’re as ignorant as chickens,
not knowing what fresh hell comes next.
¹ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wabi-sabi
In praise of middle class morality
Virtue hides in commonplace rags.
These lines are in praise
of middle class morality,
which the poor can’t afford
and the rich never need.
A stance that protects
what was hard-fought won.
Glass of milk in the evening
to bring on sleep:
the worry the worry the neighbors the lawn.
The rich buy their way out of any infraction,
the poor take advantage of every distraction,
the immigrant child attains a degree.
It’s a tenuous perch
in a cage for a fringe,
the hard working fringe of the working class.
There’s no place I’d rather be, dear.
I’ve always loved you, let me show you.
Here, I’ll pay for your cozy pyjamas.
This one is hidden by Facebook, probably due to the phrase “dead babies”.
Prayer makes dead babies
Inert mobile over crib.
Blanket, never soiled.
Prayer makes dead babies¹
when no doctors intervene.
Rely on myth, get a box
and a marker stone.
Prayer makes dead babies²
that hospitals have never seen.
Newborns dead within a week.
Newborns died in pain.
Prayer makes dead babies.³
Prayers in vain, obscene.
1. Joshua Piland and Rachel Piland https://lawandcrime.com/crime/we-wouldnt-have-called-911-parents-who-allowed-newborn-daughter-to-die-from-preventable-and-treatable-sickness-believed-in-the-power-of-prayer-and-faith-healing/
2. Blair Edwards and Taylor Edwards https://komonews.com/news/nation-world/prayer-oil-medicine-doctor-child-died-kill-death-children-kids-anointing-anoint-olive-refused-take-medical-assistance-newborn-baby-breathing-save-rescue-parents-mother-father-mom-dad-edwards-followers-of-christ-church-religion
3. Sarah Mitchell and Travis Lee Mitchell https://people.com/crime/oregon-couple-plead-guilty-murder-daughter-faith-healing/
ignatz:
“the immigrant child attains a degree.”
Thomas Sowell speaks of middleman immigrants (such as Jews and expat Chinese) who show up in a country penniless, but nonetheless attain success; and this earns the hatred of locals who wonder why.
Ignatz:
I blame bad strategizing. The winning strategy is to bring the child to the doctor and _then_ pray hard. That way, if the child dies then they can blame the doctors, and if the child recovers then they can credit God. Easy-peasy.
Ignatz:
I think that I think, therefore I AM THAT I AM.
paradoctor:
My parents were Holocaust refugees who arrived in Montreal in 1951, immigrating from where they wound up after the war. That was an Austrian DP camp run by Americans. They worked their asses off, my father in a clothing factory that wasn’t air-conditioned. My mother worked for a kosher caterer on an occasional basis. She would come home with burns on her arms from the huge pots, but with multiple grocery bags filled with leftover food that hadn’t been served to guests. (The caterer allowed the help to do that as a perk. It kept salaries low and was a tax write-off.)
My parents bought a small house with a mortgage in 1968. It had an upper floor, rented out to help pay the mortgage. A few years later, my father was asked by a local French Canadian man (who was in the same clothing manufacturing union) why we were able to do that, when locals worked just as hard but couldn’t. My father ran down the list of things we didn’t have or do that this other man did:
– No travel during holidays, except once to a wedding in NYC, and once to a relative in Detroit, by bus, not plane. The other man flew to Florida with his wife once a year. His wife did not work outside the home.
– No alcohol, except a shot of Canadian whisky once a week, Friday with the evening meal. The other man went through 24 beers a week.
– No cars, only public transport. (And in fact until I was 11, my father often walked to work. Once when I was 4, I remember he was very late because of a snowstorm.) The other man and his wife each had a car.
– No restaurants, ever. But lots of wedding food brought home when my mother was called to an event by the catering business, about twice a month for two 12-hour days running. The other man regularly brought his family to a restaurant and sometimes went to a tavern to drink with his buddies.
– My father often sewed clothing for us, since that was his trade. I also wore hand me down clothing from my older brother. When money was tight, if my shoes had holes, my parents put layers of cardboard inside until their savings goals has been met. The other man’s family bought fashionable clothing.
I’m certain many families lived like this, and not just immigrant families. But it’s only immigrant families that get this kind of question. Not just Jews and Chinese. I remember Greek and Italian immigrants in Montreal being subjected to it too. Immigrants are self-selecting: they have the gumption to go somewhere new and the will to exert the effort for a better life for their children.
My wife was an immigrant from Germany to Canada. She tells much the same story about living in Montreal. We are both immigrants to the United States. I mostly don’t experience prejudice here, because I’m white and speak a more precise style of English than many locals. (When I was working, I got multiple snarky comments from one of my group leaders at work about being Jewish.) My wife has experienced some prejudice here, likely because of her German accent.
About my parents:
https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1GQvZfNNjo/