I stand with Israel. I always have and I always will. Am Yisrael Chai!
Author: Rod Fleming
Scottish Writer, photographer, artist and musician. Currently living in the Philippines with the lovely Sam. I like photography, art, motorcycling, food (too much) sailing and dogs. I am a published author.
Homosexual, Bisexual and ‘Not-Man’ are confusing concepts because they originate in different cultures. The modern Western concept of ‘homosexual,’ or as they prefer ‘gay,’ does not fit well with the older ones, which are still dominant in most of the world. Since (in males) true bisexuals are both rare and actually a form of Homosexual, these too cause confusion. ‘Not-Men’ is an older concept.
Because this all begins with the the concept of Homosexual, we need to define what that is. The term was coined by Karl-Maria Bengkert, alias Kertbeny in 1869. It refers to a form of Sexual Inversion, which can be Innate (congenital,) or Acquired.
That little one in the blue dress though…wonder what she’d be like out of it?
Being a Zionist is usually thought to be restricted to the Jews themselves; but not in my case. So how I came to be a Zionist might be worth telling.
Once, when I was much younger, I took a train journey from my then home in Arbroath in Scotland, to Falmouth in Cornwall. The purpose was to join the crew of a new, semi-submersible oil-rig which had just crossed the Atlantic from Texas. It’s a long way from Arbroath to Falmouth.
In those days, trains had compartments and were comfortable. There was some privacy and one might even sleep. For part of the interminable journey, I shared a compartment with a young woman, blonde and attractive. We chatted about many things but mainly, as travellers do, about where we were going. My tale was easy to tell and seemed to me mundane, but hers was interesting.
I’ve just refreshed my page that contains free downloads of all the major texts of Islam. For reasons that remain unclear, this page suffers frequent attacks. It’s almost as if Muslims don’t want people to read their texts…silly idea, no?
Actually, no. Islam does not want you to read the texts. Muslims go to great lengths to prevent you and condemn any version of the texts not written in Arabic. This, they say, is because ‘Allah’ speaks Arabic and so any translation of his words is blasphemous. However, a suspicious person, not me, of course, might argue that it sounds very much as if they don’t want we kuffars to read the texts at all. I wonder why that might be, if it were the case?
Prostitution is, they say, ‘the oldest profession in the world’ and, as far as the historical record goes, it’s at least close to being so. The first mention of prostitution that we know of was 5,500 years ago, in the city of Uruk, in Sumer in Mesopotamia, where priestesses in the Temple of Inanna performed this service.
The religious connection with prostitution, of course, is one that has long since been lost — though we might discuss it in another piece; yet of course, the practice itself continues. Until recently, the major push to suppress prostitution was religious, coming from, in particular, the Protestant Christian traditions and notably the Anglican one, which has always been a pillar of sex-negativity and repression.
Of recent decades, however, the attempt to prevent women from engaging in prostitution has come from other women. Indeed, it has become a bastion of modern feminism. But this throws up a thorny moral question: do we or do we not have the right to do as we will with our own bodies?
We’ve spent a lot of time on this blog discussing male transsexuals and transvestites. But as yet, I’ve said very little about females. Essentially, just as in male transgenderism, there are two forms. One is a transsexual form; they are in fact lesbians with a social desire to appear as men. This is consistent with their sexuality: to attract female partners, they wish to appear to be men. However, there are other stimuli for this behaviour.
Female transsexuals are the equivalent amongst females to the male transsexual who is, let us state again, a (male) Homosexual who has completely feminised her social appearance, to align it with her sexuality. Female transsexuals are the exact opposite. Let me reiterate that: in order to be a transsexual, if one is male, one must be a Homosexual. Non-homosexual transvestites, often referred to here as Autogynephiles, are not, ever, transsexuals. Similarly, all female transsexuals are Lesbians; they have maximised their masculinity.
Rachel Sutherland was thirty-eight years old, and had already brought three children into the world. She pondered this as she looked at her naked body, reflected in the mirror on the wardrobe in her bedroom. Not bad, she thought, not bad at all. She piled up the extravagant mane of thick dark blonde hair that she always wore long, and turned her body from side to side, examining every contour with practised eye.
She was not what anyone would have called skinny; she was rather short, and her body was full and curvaceous, but still firm and shapely. She smiled. She knew plenty of other mothers of her age who had lost their figures completely. She purred like a cat and looked into the deep brown eyes reflected in the mirror. She leaned closer to the glass. Perhaps a few more lines there, perhaps the freckles that dusted her nose were more prominent, but still…
La Fete de la Revolution, also called Bastille Day, was a major celebration in Molinot, the village where I live in France. Every fourteenth of July, the village attracted visitors form all over the surrounding areas, because of the lavish entertainment. Today, it is but a ghost of its past self, but in the early years of the century it was a huge affair, and the children from the village school all took part and put on a mime show. As always, willing adults were drafted in to help.
In 2002 the theme was The Wild West — with a very French flavour.
In 2002, only twenty years ago now, La Fete de la Revolution was still a huge event in Molinot. Sadly this is no longer the case as the life of the village has collapsed as the French country side empties. We were lucky to see it when we did, and to experience the rural life of the Arriere Cote. It is gone and will never come back.
Our memories, however, are happy and something at least of Molinot and our dream life in France is preserved in these images and my writing. I doubt if I’ll ever see another La Fete de la Revolution there, but the ones I remember were amazing. We saw something really special and if the locals did not quite understand us, they made up for it in kindness and the warmth of their welcome.
You can read about all of this in my hilarious French Onion Soup! series of books. The second, Croutons and Cheese! was launched in September 2017.
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