god toucher

We’ve been busy. In 10 thousand years we’ve gone from praying to plants and animals to praying to gods and goddesses with the power over those plants and animals to praying to one big god who employed patron saints of those same plants and animals to praying that the church you send your children to learn about old testament morality from isn’t molester-infested. Busy busy busy. Hunter-gatherers prayed to the fruit trees, until they settled near water to raise their food and instead prayed to Pomona, goddess of the fruit trees. After a lot of christian xenocide, we started praying to the big G, and some of us might have tossed the occasional hail mary to the Patron Saint of fruit trees, Dorothy of Caesarea. All these little progressions of our busy species haven’t made us any better. Just more balsy. The kind of balsy where the world’s largest religious organization can literally move its employees around to unsuspecting parishes as a slap on the wrist after having sodomized minors. We’re such a stupid, funny people, which is why I find it only too fitting that on the day in which we’re meant to wear masks that allow us to walk beside the monsters of the world, these are the disguises we’ve chosen. #HappyHalloweenie