Adam Ash

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Monday, February 27, 2006

JESUS NATION SEX REBEL, mini-chapter 7


It was rather odd for Adam to be by himself at an event. He usually had a woman with him wherever he went. To special events like this, he’d bring his woman of the moment, the current full moon to his earth -- although he always tried to keep a few extra satellites within reachable orbit. But he had become so involved with the last woman – who turned out to be a neurotic Evangelist bitch: no bitch worse than a truly fundamentalist one – that all the satellites had escaped his gravitational pull. Which was why, after the breakup, only a month ago, he had found himself suddenly without any new moon to reach for. It was back to again.

Meanwhile, there were some benefits to the dry spell. Emotionally, anyway. Sexually, of course, it stank. But emotionally, it was rather terrific. He had had the calm time to polish his new essay. It might be slick enough for a popular monthly, perhaps The New Christian, instead of the university’s academic magazine.

Martha had been impossible. He was well rid of her. Whenever a woman got so Christian that she started questioning certain sexual proclivities, you knew you had a neurotic on your hands. “We shouldn’t enjoy this so much,” she had said. “I don’t think God would approve of it.”

God wouldn’t have given you the wherewithal if He disapproved, woman, he wanted to scream at her. Instead they’d had an argument about onanism.

He knew what the trouble was: he had unleashed Martha’s sexuality to the point that it scared her. Those men she’d had before, they didn’t measure up to him. She didn’t want to face the simple fact of her own God-given sexual hunger for him.

It was not the first time he’d found God coming between him and a woman. It was as if they didn’t realize that God was on the side of their female lust as much as He was on the side of any man’s.

Mind you, it was not as if the culture encouraged women’s sexuality. On the contrary. Sometimes he thought God had sent him to earth as the only man capable of reminding women that their contribution to sex was essential to them falling pregnant, and that this contribution could be an enjoyable one.

Not that he had ever wanted to make a woman pregnant. The only woman he had ever wanted to make pregnant was Sarah. He had in fact made her pregnant, before those 9/11 monsters deprived him of his wife and the offspring growing inside her.

Well, now he was here to see a monster fry, and what a fabulous occasion it was. Perhaps it would do something to slake his personal thirst for revenge. Perhaps, along with the fiend, his own decades-old rage would go up in flames as well.


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