the history of everything, almost

Great men cannot organize themselves, because great men cannot submit to rules. We must rule ourselves, and can submit to no other master. It is a great responsibility, a God-given task, and we cannot for even an instant allow our self-mastery to wilt or waver. We cannot give away ownership of our own behavior - we are tasked by our behavior, we are indeed owned by our own performance of who we believe we are.

We cannot acquiesce to rules, because we cannot abandon the responsibility of being a man that God has given us. The responsibility of a man is thus: we must learn to rule ourselves. We must sit by ourselves, with ourselves, and learn of ourselves, until we discover within us the latent capacity to rule ourselves.

Needless to say, the greatest organization in the world has always been run entirely by women.

Its the world's breeding program, run by witches. Written about by male clerics, codified and preached by male priests, protected by male warriors and kings and honored by male religions, woman's remarkable tendency to make babies no matter what the occasion is simply the greatest unfathomable mystery ever encountered by the species entirely, and in the end all men can do is sit helplessly and watch as the world's only two-legged breeding program gets casually abused by these crazy sluts who have no discretion whatsoever, for Chrissakes, and shouldn't we at least offer them a burka?

Or maybe a cross...

Magdalene emailed Jesus: "Hey Jesus, you're cool and all, but you know, you're on this God trip and anyway I'm not available..."

and Jesus is thinking about back when he was Samson, sitting cross-legged on the floor while Delilah danced naked in sweat and moonlight and begged to know what made his dick so big, back when he had sat in meditation with his dreadlocks gathered heavily around his waist and refused her his attention, once, twice, a third time, and she wept, and his compassion unbound him, and he offered his truth: born a Nazarite, sworn since birth never to shave his beard or cut his hair...

-and he jumped her bones while knowing better, and when he slept she shaved him of his dreadlocks, and the gelded men came and plucked out his eyes, and gelded him, and the enemy of his ancestors and his seed enchained him and mocked him, for timeless time, until his dreadlocks grew back and his love grew so great that his love of death unbound him from his love of life-

-and he emails back:

"Aloha, my love"

and just like that you pretty much have the history of everything, almost. At least the mystery of how men and women can ever figure it out long enough to keep the species alive...