So martyrdom it ain’t. I won’t waste my pixels or your reading time telling you what a great person this lovable whore was. But she was loveable to left-handed boys(and a few girls, I’m sure). She was the picture of effected innocence turned bad. The girl-next-door who didn’t actually live next door…but ran away and joined the circus. And she was a whore of the first order. But all things being equal, she was loveable at least because she was us. We that surrendered to temptation of the serpent. We that would go through that door that led nowhere. Nowhere but the eternal. So not a martyr per se, but an example. The Eve that bit the apple for all of us.
I’ll buy that.
I’ll heed that warning.
I’ll avoid all serpent-offerings from 1963 on.
But to be a whore in the upper echelon as she was, you have to have something the serpent can use. Human beauty will do when tribal members are…well…serpents without such physical allure. For the allure is all, isn’t it? The honey to trap. The honey never knows it is the trap. The honey never knows. And she was a honey.
There were many honeys before…and multitudes of them after. All biting the apple. I am no believer in ancient texts of begatting-boogaloo…but that lesson is there for all to profit from.
For most of us, there is an inside and an outside life. One we live inside our own walls of work and home. And one we read and hear about from the serpent. You can’t bite the apple and chew it at home. It is a contagious disease with which the snake poisons. Like its genetically modified life in general, it will infect all that it comes in contact with. So the inside becomes the outside. And vice versa. Until all is poison. We are approaching that time.
Critical mass. The point that Saint Norma showed us, without even knowing she was showing us.
So mourn her today. Mourn her stupidity. Mourn her simple-minded calculation. Mourn her vanity. Mourn all she was and we are. Remember although you don’t remember. Inside and outside.