Lou Sweeny and the diametric marriage paradigm

B'H


Interesting article in the Age today.  Lou Sweeny it turns out had a child with a female partner and now is in a relationship with a man. Woopy do da!
It is all here and her son is a normal human being. No thanks to her perversions in the past, I guess. It is probably thanks to the intervention of the wonderful human being who she has met (thank G-D) who happens to be male and is obviously a good role model to her son. Apparently they have been apart since he was one. Thank goodness for that.

http://www.theage.com.au/comment/enough-of-the-stupidity-the-kids-are-all-right-20130522-2k14m.html

All these people carrying on about supporting same sex marriage makes me wonder if they are so really in love, how come they did not stick it out as a couple. It proves one of the points that I have made previously, lesbians and homosexuals are really just closet heterosexuals waiting for the right man or woman of their opposite gender to happen along and then they will toss the same sex partner over for that more conventional partner. Makes me wonder why all the fuss over same sex marriage anyway? If they can have a sexual relationship with a member of the same sex, why do they need to marry them?
The answer is obvious. They know same sex marriage is a non-issue anyway and that same sex partnerships are an abomination, so why are they pushing for same sex marriages? To try and convince the rest of us that it really is ok? Get out and about. Control yourself and have other interests. You don't need a life partner to be a happy healthy human being. It certainly helps but it not essential to one's life.
Trust me, as someone who is entering her second decade of celibacy  (and probably will last another decade too), you weight up the benefits of being in a relationship with someone who could jeopardize the safety and security of you, your child and your all and you cuddle up closer to the hot water bottle in winter and extend your library of books. You have to think in terms of the emotional cost of a failed marriage or relationship and believe me the loneliness weighed against the pain of a broken marriage or relationship, I will take the loneliness any day. That I can cope with. It teaches you to be self sufficient and tough as nails. You do not get emotionally involved to the extent that you end up in tears almost every night. Besides children deserve your full attention once you have them and not a partner. Too many kids become distant and depressed because Mum is off shagging some new paramour and child/ren  are left alone.
One needs a level head to proceed forward and jumping from the fire to the frying pan is not the way to go. Obviously Lou jumped the correct way and I wish her and her partner and child well. Thank G-D she is no longer in a same sex relationship. I bet that is what her dad wanted. For her to have a normal healthy relationship and to raise kids happily. Unfortunately not all of us have such accepting families and friends that allow us to explore alternative sexuality and lifestyles. Just as well, I think. Most of us want a boring conventional life, raising kids to adulthood well and seeing them off on their careers and doing well in the community as well as we want to dangle some grand kids on our knees and enjoy them too.

Little Bull Calf

Little  Bull Calf

With each shivering breath

You steam

The dank morning.

Your baby hooves
still soft from your birth

The day before

Are clumped with manure

From the sale yard floors,

Where you are sold

With the others.

Your umbilical cord
Hangs moist.

caked with filth
From shit covered floors.
Your eyes glazed in shock

Fear moves
Your mouth to nuzzle nothingness.

Your tongue curls

Instinctively to grasp a teat.
Little bull calf
Barely touched

By a mother whose warmth
They cannot erase.
When they wrenched you away,
You bellowed your surprise,

Now yearning etched in those eyes
Crying silently,
You stand muted
Among others

Whose only crime is to be
Born male

 When there is greater worth

In having an udder
And womb.

The latter’s produce

Discarded so easily

When the product of the former

Is siphoned off twice daily.

Some males kept to milk

Their seed, impregnating

Mothers who will never

Mother or be mothered

Your last sight of your mother
on her knees, bellowing
her nose buried in the wet placenta
where you spent ten months
Connected.
Your grieving and hers

Reverberates

Through the cosmos,

You have been robbed.

Living on Mercy

B'H

Living on mercy

   Why don’t you try medication?

  No.  I did once. Never again.

   And, didn’t it help?

   Well, obviously not. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here talking to you.

   There is no need to be aggressive.

   I am not being aggressive. I am just stating my feelings.

   And what are they at the moment? Apart from your pathological anger towards me. We can go into that later, because you seem to have a problem with those in authority over you.

  Excuse me? Don’t kid yourself that I am angry at you. You are not that important in my life. It’s not anger, it is frustration and… pain.

   Frustration and pain? Why? What have you got to be frustrated about? All your needs are taken care of.

   My needs? What do you know about my needs? You know nothing…

   I know more than you think. I have read your files. They are pretty extensive. Two wheelie suit cases of them.

   I’ll bet they are.  You people are a bunch of pricks with your psycho mumbo jumbo.

   (Laughs) Getting agro again, are we? They go right back to kindergarten.

   Really? What deviant qualities did I show then?

  Here I will read you an extract.  ‘Helen has all the making of a true psychopath. She often hits other children unprovoked. She threw a brick at another girl splitting her head open and this is why I have recommended the school psychologist’s evaluation. She seems to have a very low IQ and fails to understand what is going on in the classroom. If this is what she is like at four years of age, I fear for her future in school environment. indeed in society.’

   Really. I remember what they used to do to me in that kindergarten. Two kids used to pinch the skin of arm above the elbow or on the neck or push me over when the teacher wasn’t looking. They also called my mother a slut. Said she was such a pig, no man would touch her.  But I loved her. They also said my father was a brave man. He left her when she was four months pregnant with me. He found someone else much younger. He told her she would miscarry. I understood very well what went on in that classroom. The teacher did not.  She used to ask me questions in front of the whole class and when I could not answer them, she would say poor Helen and then give the answer to the class and laugh at me. Everyone else would laugh at me. Parts of me would die in side then. I would feel my whole world was splitting into pieces. I would feel that no one loved me or my mother. In fact, they hated my mother and hurt me because of my mother. They did not know her.

   Is your mother still alive?

   You have the files? Can’t you read? Look it up.

   No. I want to hear it from you. Is she?

   You know very well she’s dead.

   Ok. How did she die? Cancer? Suicide? Natural causes? She would not have been that old.

   Yes, she was sixty eight, nearly sixty nine. Three months before I turned twenty. I was to be married the week after she died.

   And?

   Her biological family wanted her cremated. It was to be their last act against her. She was an Orthodox Jewess. She would not have wanted that at all. They took it to court.

   But surely you as the daughter had the final say. I mean, didn’t you count?

   No. You see I was an egg donor baby. They said I really wasn’t a blood relative. They said that my true mother was the woman who donated the egg to my mother and my father. Until the judge ruled that she was my true mother in all aspects but one, I was not allowed to bury my mother, nor were they allowed to cremate her.

   And what is the one aspect that did not make her your real mother in the Judge’s esteemed opinion?

   A minute amount of biological material donated by a very special woman to enable my mother to have a child. But in every other aspect, she was and is my mother.

   So, you don’t regard that woman as your true mother.

   No. I honour the act of generosity. I applaud it, without it I would not be, but it does not make her my mother.  I don’t think she or her family would want me to regard her as my mother. They have their own children and to regard her as my real mother would be insulting to the woman that carried me in her womb and nurtured me for the first nearly twenty years of my life. She also believed in me when very few people did and defended me. That took a lot of courage.

   You appear to be dealing with a lot of things. Very emotionally traumatizing. You are sure you do not want to try something to dull the pain. Why don’t we try a little Zoloft maybe or another antipsychotic medication might help you through the day. It will stablise your emotional state.

   I have read a little about antipsychotic medication.  I am not sure I want to put myself at risk of brain atrophy or Tardive dyskinesia. I have also seen people in my anti bullying group who have taken medication  

. She pauses and scrapes a finger nail pushing the cuticle back against the flesh of the finger.  

   Or gone down the route of electro shock treatment for depression. It’s not pretty. Their speech is slurred. They are walking zombies. It reminds me of an old horror movie. The return of the living dead. Some of them are so unaware of what has happened to them.  They love their happy pills. They don’t have to think. They just do.

  Let’s explore some other issues before time is up. Sexuality. When was the last time you had sex?

   Excuse me?

  Sex. When was the last time you had sex?

  Is that any of your business? I am divorced now for nearly five years. What do you think?

  Well you are still entitled to a sex life. Loss of libido is a classic symptom of depression.

  Oh, get out. And what about love? What if I am not looking for sex, but real love – and a lasting love, at that. Let’s not confuse the two.

   The two?

   Sex and love. They are radically different and the world is very confused at the moment about what they are.

   Don’t you think you are the one who is confused. Sex is a biological function after all. Every healthy body needs sex. The benefits of sex are many fold.

   So, now you are my sex therapist. Any animal can have sex at the drop of a hat. I am not an animal.

   No one is saying that you are. But you need sex to be healthy. Many people with depression have a loss of libido. It is a classic symptom.

   So, I get it. You think if I go out and hump the first willing male I come across, it will be a cure for my depression. Unfortunately due to mobile phones, there are no telephone boxes anymore.  It would be less than discrete to throw someone down behind a tree in a park and have my way with him. Besides, I don’t want that sort of relationship. You have all the classic symptoms of what I call psycho bullshit artist.

  Well, I have suggested that you have medication to help you. You don’t want it. I have suggested enter the dating scene and establishing a connection that will fulfill a physical need that might brighten your life up. You don’t want that either.

   You did not suggest I enter the dating scene. You suggested I go out and have sex. You talked about sex. Sex and love are two different things.

  So you have said. But they are connected. 

  Not really. Love is above sex. Sex is only 25 % of love. The other 75 % is the hard part. The easy part is sex. Anyone can have sex. Dogs have sex. Horses have sex. So do guinea pigs and rabbits. Have you ever seen the testes of a guinea pig? They are well hung little buggers. Along with Billy goats and rams, they have some of the biggest balls in the animal kingdom. It ensures the survival of their DNA. They stup anything that moves sideways and has a womb or not.

   So what gives you peace?

   Do you really want to know?

   Yes. I do. What is your secret to peace? If it is not medication or sex or food?

   I pray.

  You what?

  I pray to God.

  Really? Does He or She answer you?

  Yes.

   How? How does the sky fairy that you believe in answer you? Do you have proof?

   I guess you are an atheist then.

  Yes. I am a rationalist. I believe in science and facts. Not fantasy.

   Do you believe in yourself?  Do you believe in the miracle of creation?  Do you have a child?

  No. I don’t want children. This world is too stuffed to bring children into. STOP right here. We are talking about you. NOT me. You are the patient, not me. You are the sick one. You are the one who has depression.

  Are you married? Do you have a partner? Are you having sex?

  That is none of your business?

  That picture of the woman on your desk, is that your sister? Is that your mother? Is it your partner? Are you a lesbian?

Rainbows are a reminder of G-D's peace and covenant with us

B'H
The latest events in NZ are interesting, but I for one will not change my stance and I am so glad that our politicians are remaining polite, firm and committed to family values and not following the same path to moral turpitude. I believe we here in Australia give gay couples all rights and benefits due to them. We respect them as human beings and do not allow discrimination and unfair harassment of them. However marriage is for a man and a woman to be joined in holy matrimony and to consider two men or two women to be equal to that is both mad and against G-D's laws and indeed nature.We can be gentle, compassionate and decent individuals without having to be swayed by emotive arguments like 'two people who love each other deserve to be married.' There are social taboos. Woody Allen married his adoptive daughter. Something I consider quite sick and a bit outrageous along with a few others. Some things are just not right.
Marriage is not about 'love' and that is why so many of them fail or do not last the distance. Marriage is about commitment, decency and moral standards, compassion and respect that occurs between two people. You cannot live on love alone and you should not.
Having sexual relations with someone of the same sex for whatever period of time is not love and neither is it grounds for marriage The same goes for two heterosexuals having sexual relations for a period of time. .It is simply an animal act between two people who are indulging themselves in physical pleasure for want of a better word. True love, marriage and commitment are on a level that few people understand.
People do not marry purely to have sex with each other. They marry to create a future. The potential for creating new life and a family. They marry to share their life with another person in a meaningful way and a decent way.
NZ MPs may sing. They may talk of gay rainboys, sorry rainbows arching across their electorates and 'allowing two people who love each other to be together' but it is all hogwash. Somewhere we need to draw lines in the sand and have boundaries on human behaviour. We need to keep ourselves decent and respect G-D and ourselves too much to go down the path that NZ and twelve other countries have gone. They will pay a price. It may not be evident now, but one day it will.
There may not be a physical manifestation of fire and brimstone, sorry, but there will be a spiritual one. All these emotive arguments about love between two people of the same sex bore me frankly. If they loved and respected their heterosexual families they would be in a relationship with a member of the opposite sex and forget about the ridiculousness of gay marriage and their gay lifestyles.
We all struggle with things in our lives and we all have our frustrations and our battles to fight. However a community needs standards of behaviour and we all need to maintain those standards for a good and healthy community. We cannot allow pedophilia, homosexuality and perversions to flourish unchallenged. We need to contain those sorts of behaviours within clearly defined boundaries and not put a rubber stamp on them by a act of parliament which is now making a travesty of the whole parliamentary process. I feel sorry for NZers. Why their parliament wastes time on a Same Sex Marriage definition act when there are far more serious issues at hand. Shame, shame  New Zealand, Shame. 

The road to hell is paved with good intentions..

B'H
I have not been feeling well and trying to work on a project, hence my lack of posts for many weeks. It is with great sadness that I read about Ben Alon or Ben Zeiger who from all accounts was a good young man who bit off a more than he could chew.
One might want to be a hero. One might want to achieve great things in life, but we do not achieve them as islands unto ourselves.We can achieve alone much but in the type of work he was in, he should have had trust in a mentor and worked with that mentor. It seems incredible that he worked alone and others were not aware of what he was up to. In fact, if he had had a mentor - an experienced older person that he could confer with, I doubt he would have made the idiotic mistake of giving out vital information to an enemy agent.
Hashem has his hand in all things and one has to believe that while the loss of this young man's life is tragic and could have been avoided as could the imprisonments and deaths of the people he had betrayed, that the is a greater power at work and things will work out the better for Israel eventually. They will certainly revise the way they communicate and monitor agents' activities. Definitely it was one of the most unprofessional and amateur mistakes of any intelligence organisation's history.
I can not understand, coming from a different view of a person who has never worked in intelligence, why he did not feed some names of people that the Mossad wanted to get rid of to this Hezbollah  agent. That way you would kill two birds with the one stone.
If you are smart enough and can concoct a good enough story, you could pick some one in their terror organisations and plant suspicions, these guys are paranoid enough anyway to warrant making life very uncomfortable for some of the terrorist organizers. Another thing is why did he not have a competent handler that he could trust and open to so he did not make such silly mistakes.
Maybe he was just the wrong sort of person to be a spy. He was not focssed enough although he was smart enough to be a good agent, he lacked other qualities necessary to complete the picture.
His family should have comfort and peace. We must understand that even more that kal Israel is stronger when we stick together like one part of a whole one nation. We must have empathy and compassion for each other and love one another and trust. That way we will survive the desert years and survive whatever with grace and support from the Master of the Universe.
Chag Samech  and blessings to all Jews celebrating Pesach and all those who are not, may they come to the Seder if not this year, Be Shana Haba in Jerusalem. Blessings and be blessed in all things and be freed in thought, body and spirit.

No Posts Too Busy with other writing and goating around!

B'h
I am busy with other writings and at present which is paid and needs a lot of research. More than I had expected, but what the heck, it is fun and I get paid for it. Crazy with Pesach happening and the film is being made out here at our country home.
Took the goats to the goat farm for a holiday where the couple who run it will take good care of our two goaties and Osnat will get joined with a nice brown or black dairy buck who will ensure that we have one or two kids in spring. Dolly will not be joined. She is too old and cranky. She hated the trip over to the farm and would not allow Osnat to come in the back of the car with her. She is a cranky old thing, but lovable in her nasty unpredictable way. I am sure she has been mistreated somewhere along the way, so I am forgiving of her butty and bossy behaviour towards Osnat. She was quite agitated by the trip over and I had to lean my hand over and scratch her ears and withers to calm her down.
When Paul and Rhonda came out and reassured her she was fine. She settled down. Osnat had no problems getting into the car. I opened the door of the Rav and said to her, 'Hop up here, darling!' she took one look and leapt up into the back of the Rav. She is a seasoned traveler  I could probably book a seat on a plane next to me and she would walk right on up the aisle and settle down into a seat next to me, no problems. Trouble is the other passengers might not like travelling with a goat. Particularly as goats are not particular about where they drop their pellets. I can't imagine mothers being impressed when their toddler toddles down the aisle and thinks the goat pellets are chewy lollies. That would not be a good move. I think I would have to earn heaps of money and buy my own plane so I can travel with my goats. Only kidding or goating around!
I have trouble trying to get the pair of them to understand that the aircraft hanger of a shed we have is NOT a toilet.  Like good thieves they work in pairs. Dolly uses brute force to get the shed door pushed open and Osnat is the clever one who knows how to get the feed bin open and she can also open the lever in the side door of the shed. Dolly being a typical Boer meat goat is driven purely by the needs of her voracious appetite for food. She is a regular vacuum. 
Well it is back to work and go to sleep for an early morning writing session.

Mexican Purim At Gilly's Earling Learning Centre

B"H

Purim was hectic. We heard the Megilla (the story of Ester and Mordechai and the wicked Haman who gets his just desserts) late on Saturday night after Shabbat finished. It was a quick costume change for child and hurrying to shule to get there just as they finished saying the Brachot (blessings) for the reading of the Megilla and had started around persuk (verse) five or six of the first chapter. Already too LATE! So we went to another person's place to listen to it read very capably by her husband. For mothers, getting the kids there to shule minutes after Shabbes finishes in summer was really an up hill task. A friend of mine told me about Shabbes's in London that start and finish late, after 11pm in mid summer. Now that you need to be in your mid teens to your late thirties to really appreciate. I think once most of us hit the big 4 OH we start to say 'Hey, time to slow it down and for some it was 5 OH and others it is 6 OH. Most of us just cannot take the late nights like we used to do. It's called WATOB - Wear And Tear On Body.
The next day we went to Gilly's Early Learning Centre. One of the best, if not the best of accredited Jewish Early Learning  Centres in East St Kilda and North Caulfield. I might be biased as my son spent nearly two years there and they were in one word, 'Amazing'. The atmosphere there is very homey and warm with out being unprofessional. All their staff either have their Childcare Certificate IV or are in the process of training towards it.
They were doing a Mexican Purim theme with spicy food. It was in two words "totally fabulous', but then Gilly's is the epitome of Gilly who is a person who give 150% along with her sister Talli, to whatever they do, whether it is running a childcare centre,doing chesed in the community and outside of it. they do a lot of things that no one ever hears about because frankly people like these two women are so busy doing chesed, running their business and looking after their families - they do not have time to talk about it or to talk Loshon Hara about others. They are simply too busy doing good. They are amazing role models and I for one, am very glad my son went to their creche.

I had experienced two creches before my son came to Gilly's early Learning Centre.
In fact the last non Jewish creche (ABC in Deniliquin) he was at, he kept saying to me, many times that the woman who looked after him hurt him. There were no bruises. I often wondered why he persistently said that but was too traumatised by what I had been put through up there to start to deal with it. I do remember the woman in charge Mandy saying to me, when I came to pick him up for one of the last times he was there and I was fighting back tears as I told her that I had lost my teaching position at Deniliquin High School and would no longer be able to afford to keep him in the creche, 'OH. good, she said, NOW you can be a REAL mother to your son.' Then she chuckled.
I realised later how much they must have hated the fact that I had a profession and was earning a good salary. It was so pathetic that they felt they had to try to destroy my earning potential to bring me down to their level. The level of the town grubs that have four or five children sometimes more to different fathers and are lying about on pensions for most of their lives.  I will never be at that level and I will be dead first. G-D only knows what trauma my poor kid suffered at that creche that he had to keep repeating to me 'Cabel hurt me. Cabel hurt me.' Day in day out and I was only half listening to him because I was trying to think what I was going to do for a living and how to earn money to support myself and him. I spent days so highly anxious about how I was going to earn a living that I used to have heart palpitations and could not sleep for days on end. That was when I started writing and praying again. I did pray before but it was shallow prayer and meaningless, compared to prayer that comes from real pain and anguish that leaves you shaking like a tree in hurricane.
You see I do not give up hope.I believe you have to cling to the tree of life with your heart and soul. I believe Hashem rules this world and things happen because Hashem is in charge of us all. We can make choices but ultimately it is G-D who is in control. I believe with utmost faith that it is G-D who allows things to happen and we can make ourselves a receptacle for brachot (blessings) or we can close ourselves off from G-D and G-Dly blessings.
Whenever we hurt someone else or go out to be spiteful to another person, we receive back what we give out. That is why I try to make sure now that even if people are nasty to me or spiteful, I do not give it back to them, but let it go. I place myself out of harm's way for the sake of my son and those around me.
There is this Chassidic tale. Aren't there some of the greatest chassidic parables for every incident we have in life? The sun and the wind saw a chosid walking up the hill in his kapote. It was a nice day. They had been having an argument about who was the strongest. So they made a deal that the one who could get the chosid to take off his long black coat /kapote would be the winner - the stronger of the two.
The wind laughed at the sun and winked. I'll go first it said and you will not need to even try. I will have his coat off in a jiffy. The sun simply smiled. Ok it said.
So the wind rose up and blew and blew and blew. The branches of the trees lining the road were whipped around and leaves flew off them. Within minutes there was a virtual hurricane of wind sound ripping through the air, leaves and debris flying high and the day had become dark and overcast. the chosid pulled his coat tighter around his body and head bent into the storm, he forged on. Try as he might the wind could not budge the coat from that chosid's shoulders and body. Finally the wind gave up panting and exhausted.
Ok, he scoffed. You go. The sun rose up smiling warmly. He beamed warmth and heat towards the shattered and battered trees and the chosid who was walking up the rise of the hill with his coat wrapped tightly around him. Soon it was as hot as a furnace. Heat curled the recently fallen leaves and the chosid he undid his coat and opened it up all the way. He walked on and finally after a few more minutes, he took off the coat and put it over his arm and walked on up the hill and even rolled up his shirt sleeves.
There are some interesting thoughts to be drawn from that. It is my favourite chasidic story because it illustrates so aptly two different approaches to life and living. That is not to say that we never need the wind and only need sunshine. We need both to live in a balanced way.