Stan Fan a.k.a. Che Dali wrote:- found my parents agnostic, liberal, suburban whitebread existence pretty meaningless and unfullfilling about the same time Alex Haley’s “Roots” hit TV. . . - came home. Again found my parents white bread agnostic, suburban existence pretty meaningless and unfullfilling.
Is your existence now, being married with four kids, in any way similar to how your parents' existence was back then?
-Went to clear to Africa, hitchhiking most of the way, via all over the US, North, South, East, West, Europe and N. Africa.
How did you pay for your food along the way?
"Finally, for your rather strange idea that miracles are somehow linked to the amount of gay sexual gratification that is taking place would require that primitive Christianity was launched by gay sex, would it not?"
What I meant was, how did you amass all the necessary money beforehand, especially considering how young you were?
"Finally, for your rather strange idea that miracles are somehow linked to the amount of gay sexual gratification that is taking place would require that primitive Christianity was launched by gay sex, would it not?"
barrelomonkeys wrote:Hi de ho to you too and welcome. :)
What's a perfect peter penis holder? Is that some Mormon slang?
Yes. BofMonks..."Peter Priesthood" the archetypal Mormon man/priesthood = penishood (because only guys can "hold" it, nyuk, nyuk).
That is some story, man. After all your travels, that you came "home" and decide to conform is bizarre---then going the whole nine yards with kids and wife and career!
The very idea of wanting to design Mormon temples is strange enough on its own!!
Blixa, does this story ring a tad off to you too?
And crawling on the planet's face Some insects called the human race Lost in time And lost in space...and meaning
I had a very unorthodox upbringing. I spent only one summer in Africa.
I wound up in North Africa and became fascinated by the culture and the religion. They were the most devoted people I'd ever met. Even the men digging ditches stopped digging ditches when the Imam called for prayer.
I made fast friends in Morocco who taught me daily, everything about Islam. I learned the prayers in Arabic, they taught me their beautiful ritual washing, TaWadat, required before entering a Mosque. When I had learned everything I needed to learn I went to the inner sanctum when the Imam called me to prayer and washed alongside the other worshippers.
At first I could tell that he was skeptical of this Western interloper. He asked me in Arabic if I had performed TaWadat. If I believed in one God, Allah. If I believed Mohamed was his prophet.
I knew all the answers to his questions and as I looked into his eyes, I saw that he accepted me as a brother.
I realized at that moment that deep down, there was no difference between us.
I could just as easily have been born in North Africa as North America. I was not Mormon or Muslim or American or African, I was just human making a deep spiritual connection with another human.
We didn't even speak the same language, but we managed to connect on a deep spiritual level and see beyond our superficial differences. I felt at home in that beautiful oasis. I loved it there. It was really like a paradise on earth. I had acheived what I had come to achieve. I had totally integrated myself into another culture. I wore their clothes, ate their food, lived in their houses, learned their customs, learned their language, worked beside them, learned their religion, made friends there, was accepted into their inner sanctums, their families, and made deep spiritual connections.