I could spend seemingly limitless time and energy refuting Audrey's plea of spotless innocence, but what use would that be? Anyone who's ever been a parent or had a parent knows parents make mistakes. People make mistakes. Parents are people. Suffice to say, in Audrey's case, the mistakes made in raising her children are more numerous and more grievous than in most cases. The fact that she could plea infallibility with a straight face is clear- enough indication that such is the case.
One of Audrey's methods of bullying her children was the prayers she prayed concerning us. Not only did she pray offensive prayers "in secret [Matthew 6:6, et. al.]"; she openly admitted her praying of them to us.
When I was no less than twenty- three years old, she told me, "I've been praying for you, Tom. I'm praying God will break you to make you a tool fit for his service. And I shall continue to do so." Mind you: this from a cunt who never allowed me to be whole: no not for one moment.
In the thirty years since, I've wondered over and over again, "What could this word "break" mean, as Audrey so used it?" How could I be more broken? I've never been whole. To this day, I'm homeless, penniless, and my own family-- immediate and extended-- refuses to know me. How am I not broken? Furthermore, what use does one make of a broken tool? a paperweight? a doorstop? Since when does a broken tool do work? Suddenly, a day or two ago, it occurred to me what Audrey meant by 'broken to serve God.'
All my life I've been exposed to sodomites. This came about, in the beginning, as consequential to living a 'sheltered life.' My siblings and I attended only Christian academies, until I at last flunked a grade-- my seventh-- in protest. This I did in a year which was particularly painful for the family, financially.
The Old Man was, for the entirety of said year, working for a good Christian and fellow member of the church we attended, who therefore didn't find it necessary that we should eat and pay our bills by normal means; but only miraculously. The sting of my failure and the subsequent waste of our money was therefore especially accute. But it was the only way I could find to get out of the exceeding wickedness of Christian education.
At any rate, my exposure to queers began in kindergarten. There was a seven- year- old pupil who I was made to nap the entirety of every afternoon-- in a closed room-- with, because he was still trying to get passed kindergarten himself. His Christian father had taught him sodomite ways of expressing affection: which he attempted to further pass- on to yous truly. From there, it's a long story, and one my stomach would rather I didn't elaborate on. Suffice to say, I never observed anyone living morally until I attended public education. Even there, my Mother did all she could to poison the water.
It surprises me, in retrospect therefore, that it should have taken so long to understand what Audrey meant by 'broken to serve God.' To be fair to myself, however: 'Brokeback Mountain' was still some years in the future when Audrey shared her prayer for me with me; and the vernacular of queerdom has always been "all Greek" and unknown to me, in spite of my pious upbringing. But there's the rub.
Christians believe Lot was "righteous [2 Peter 2:7 & 8]" to save the sodomites of Zoar, and the children of Confusion (that is to say, Israel) were justified in saving the remnant of the sodomites of Benjamin [Judges 21]. I've witnessed Christian preachers loudly and proudly proclaiming from their pulpits, that: if you don't begin as a devil, you can't end as a born- again Christian; implying-- or, rather, admitting-- that their 'God' has no children he hasn't stolen from another. My own eldest sibling is exceeding proud of being "depraved; saved; and eternally great- full."
Existentially, it's clear to me: the God and Father of Jesus of Nazareth is the King of Sodom's kings; Jesus is his man- boy- loving Sonshine; and Mount Zion is Brokeback, en toto; and I could never serve such a broken God and family.
Prayer request denied, Mommy. I hope it's exceeding warm and dry where you're at, and that I never see you again, you Baal- dike cunt. In my own name I pray: Amen.
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