The Father of Rape Culture
Saturday, February 9, 2019
This is the story of how we are all brainwashed by a kinky monk who has been dead 1,000 years.
Bartolomeo the Toothless was a member of the Roman Rape Club for Men, also known as the Catholic Church. Brother Toothless also served the Pope as the protector of the English language, not because of his love of the common tongue but because of his love for sticking his own tongue in keyholes, choir boys, brothers, sisters, second cousins, the cardinal on Wednesdays and a goat or two during the harvest moon.
Bartolomeo’s role as the first to weaponize English for grooming rape victims can now be revealed because I happened upon his diary on E-bay. It is titled Bartolomeo’s Days and reads:
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was Shame. In these forsaken isles so distant from my beloved Rome, the Angles, Celtics, Jutes and Saxons know not the meaning of shame. With the blessing of il Papa, I have endeavored to enlighten the sheep so our brethren may shorn one or many at leisure.”
Bartolomeo describes how the tribes of England fornicate openly in the meadows, valleys and markets with no care if they are seen by their fellow man, creatures of the forest or God. In his studies of English, he soon realized the peoples of England had a rich vocabulary to describe the pleasures of sex.
“They call it fucking, sucking, buggering, blowing, licking, and shagging. They mix discussions about pumpkin harvests with how much pleasure they had that morning sucking each other right in front of their own mothers.”
Worse, Bartolomeo writes, the natives know not of the devil, the one true God nor Jesus, nor Mary, nor Joseph nor any of the legions of saints who are god-like, but not gods since there can only be one God, “in the name of the Father, the Mother and the Holy Spirit, amen.”
From that day forward - it was a Tuesday and Bartolomeo was in a hurry to ready himself for the cardinal - all “men of the cloth must teach the English heathen that words of pleasure, such as fuck, are truly curses worse than plague, boils and plantar fasciitis.”
To baptize the English brain in the holy papal waters smelling faintly of bleach, Bartolomeo postulates, each English child must believe that to utter these words, no to even think these words, required a special absolution from the Roman clergy to avoid an eternity burning in Hell.
To this day we each use words of pleasure to curse a stubbed toe, a missed parking spot or a fumbled ball. Shame is the cord and gag rapists have used for a millennia to ease their assaults of women, children and men and to silence their victims.
To free ourselves of these oppressors we must take back these words and use them not as curses, not as taboo utterances, but as a description of the love two people share when they create a child or when they practice creating a child, or when they orgasm together because they are adults and are human and want to fuck.