Sunday, October 11, 2009

Confession #1

          Father Hate, forgive me. It has been five years, seven months, three days, seven hours, and fifty one seconds since my last sacramental confession. For that I’m not sorry. But for other things, I am heartily sorry for having offended thee. I detest all my sins—

          What? You don’t want to hear my act of contrition?

          Oh. Just the sins for now. I get it. (Fucking voyeur.)

          Okay. Here it is: I’m totally freaking out. Okay. I’m afraid that people will hate me because of what I’m saying on my blog. I mean, it’s political and religious satire, for Dog’s sake, but what if my parents read it? Or my ninety-year-old grandmother? What will they think? Will they get the joke? Will they get the seriousness of what I’m trying to say? Or will they just be offended and hurt? Will they reject me?

           Yes! I’m still hung up on rejection. A gay catholic boy never gets over rejection, Father. Not that you would know anything about that.

I Hate Men: A Responsorial Psalm by Cole Porter

Responsorial Psalm: “I Hate Men” by Cole Porter

R. (9b) Oh, I hate men.

I hate men.
I can't abide them even now and then.
Than ever marry one of them, I'd rest a virgin rather,
For husbands are a boring lot that only give you bother.
Of course, I'm awfully glad that mother had to marry father,
But, I hate men!

R. (9b) Oh, I hate men.

Of all the types I've ever met within our democracy,
I hate the most the athlete with his manner bold and brassy.
He may have hair upon his chest,
But, sister, so has Lassie!

R. (9b) Oh, I hate men.

I hate men.
Their worth upon this earth I dinna ken.
Avoid the travelling salesmen, though a tempting Tom he may be,
From China he may bring you jade and perfume from Araby
But don’t forget ‘tis he who’ll have the fun and thee the baby.

R. (9b) Oh, I hate men.

If thou shouldst wed a businessman, be wary. Oh be wary!
He'll tell you he's detained in town on business necessary.
The business is the business which he gives his secretary!

R. (9b) Oh, I hate men.

I hate men.
Though roosters they I will not play the hen.
If you espouse an older man through girlish optimism,
He'll always stay at home at night and make no criticism.
Though you may call it love, the doctors call it rheumatism.

R. (9b) Oh, I hate men.


From all I've read alone in bed, from A to Zed about 'em,
If love is blind, then from the mind all womankind should rout 'em.
But, ladies, you must answer too, what would we do without 'em?
Still, I hate men!

R. (9b) Oh, I hate men.

Please, enjoy this video sing along with Rachel York.