Where will this people go?
The judges shout “evil is good!”
The people bow in praise
At body parts in sewer pipes:
Boundaries are bad
Darkness is light
Wrong is right
Disagree and you are persecuted
Let the light of darkness shine down halls of shame.
There is no shame.
There is no wrong.
Only me, my, mine
Accept me in my degradation
Honor me as I live for myself.
But, Dad, what about mom?
What about me and my brother?
You’re leaving us for him?
Oh, my son. I must actualize.
I must pursue my dream.
This is who I am.
You can’t change who you are.
Responsibility be damned.
Honor and loyalty be scorned.
I must. I must. I must.
I must follow my feelings.
Feelings are the new god.
Orgasmic delights. It matters not with whom!!!!
But, Dad, what about my feelings?
My feelings tell me this is wrong.
My feelings tell me you are out of your mind.
My feelings tell me you will destroy the family
(from the lips of babes).
I don’t want your whatever-you-call-him at my soccer game.
I feel, too.
Oh, my son. Don’t you see?
My feelings are legitimate.
Yours are not.
The litmus test for feelings is what I want, not what you want.
I can’t let you, my son, get between me and my feelings.
Didn’t I tell you?
There is NO right and wrong!!
If your feelings tell you that my pursuit of happiness
And authenticity is amiss,
Then your feelings are mistaken!!
If your feelings tell you there is a violation
Then your feelings are defective!
The only absolute is that there is no evil!
The only evil is telling me that I am wrong.
So, please, do not feel violated.
And if you do, you are at fault for rejecting me for pursuing my
But, Dad, your freedom is a curse for me.
How can I make choices in my life, if you do not guide me?
How can I sleep at night knowing what you are doing with that
Whatever-you-call-him in the other room?
I’m creeped out totally.
I’m having nightmares.
I don’t want to come home.
My innards are all in a knot.
I haven’t slept a wink since you announced this.
I feel like I don’t want to ever talk to you again.
NO! NO! NO! I won’t call him dad.
I can’t call you dad anymore, either.
This isn’t what dads do.
I’m sure that this is not what dads were meant to do.
Quit persecuting me!!!
You ungrateful child!
You judge me! Ha!
My feelings are right.
Your feelings are wrong.
You must repent of your bigotry!
(If you disagree with me on this, you are a bigot and bigotry of me is definitely wrong!)
As the Song of Fools is played over Iowa.