The Curse of Old Men
 
Stuart Wilde

April 30th, 2005
  

The world is controlled by old men: Ayatollahs, mullahs and rabbis, pedophile priests; warlike presidents, and spooky controllers tottering along the corridors of power held up by their mental Zimmer frames. If you want to get up the ladder there is always a committee of stuffy bankers or fundamentalists up ahead of you ready to make sure you'll not be offering any contradictory ideas. The world of old men is a curse upon us. It is so stale and violent and dogmatic; elitism and hate are old-fashioned.

We are stuck; we desperately need the goddess. The religions of old men control spirituality and even the alternative spirituality has more old men at the top that you will have to dodge past if you want to proceed: Buddha's, gurus and bubbas, and dodgy rimpoches that are busy living and dying and confusing people, and then there are all the ancient texts written by loads of dreary, old farts from the Negev desert and they were violent and they didn't know sh.t from shinola either. Eek!

For the world to evolve the goddess will have to come and frighten the old men and bring them down. Then people will be set free. It's been a long time in the coming.

I'm fairly old and male, which is a bit of a set back, but I worked it all out a while ago. I realized that I had to stay away from old texts and committees and churches, and I had to get out of my own way or I'd never make it. Then I went to Dublin, dancing with the kids, and I went to the forest to visit the fairy kingdoms, and I searched for the lady of the lake. I figured she'd show me a way beyond the curse of old men.

She was scary but kind. She had a digital eye and cheekbone, made of gold circuitry. I couldn't help but stare at it. I found it eerie but beautiful. She told me, “Stuie Wilde, you bullsh.t merchant, listen up! Jerusalem and Karachi will be destroyed.”

“Is that anything to do with getting rid of the curse of old men?” I asked timidly.