The Daily Freak Show

I saw him during my lunch pause, in a busy business district of a city that shall remain unnamed.

Very, very long hair parted in the middle, and almost completely white. A big, manly face signed by time and weather. No delicate lineaments, he. Big nose, big jaw, scorched skin. You get the type. Corpulent, but not obese.

Two huge breasts, probably a patent from DuPont, emerged from under a purple shirt. They weren't “men boobs”. No. This was the work of DuPont all right. A scaffold, attempting to be a bra, kept the things in place.

The man walked along the street with the grace of an elephant, and was the very epitome of a freak show. Not a bit shy about it, though. Just walking the “boys” out a bit, I suppose. The poor wretch was a pathetic sight, and filled my heart with pity and disgust at the same time.

I could not avoid thinking that the shock I had will be reduced in the years to come, as such freak shows, now so openly “celebrated”, become more and more common, and the taxpayer provides for the expenses of self-mutilation, hormone-driven-deformation, and all the rest demanded by the poor wretches.

A society celebrating perverted freak shows, and making of them the very symbol of a new era, represents a scale of rebellion comparable to the one of the inhabitants of Sodom. But this XXI Century Sodom will soon engulf a great part of the West (yes, Italy and the other traditional Catholic Countries too: can't you see how your own pope loves to surround himself with them?), and will “celebrate” his own man made goodness and tolerance as it does so.

This is the world in which your children and nephews will grow. Perversion as normality. Christianity as oppression.

Prepare yourself for the daily freak shows. And pray that you and your loved ones may never become so perverted that you see perversion as normality.

M