The Seamless Horror of Fundamentalism
Surrealism and the discovery of the deleriously compelling disortion of language was for me such a blissful way to try to individuate and survive. Mt.Eliza south of Melbourne Victoria, on the Mornington Peninsula, the hilly dreamscape of banal childhood dreams where every room has a view of the sea. Women would judge each other through oversized sunglasses as they forced thin lipped smiles waving through the windows of their new Mercedes. Like some strange dream, their hair cloned replicas of each others', perfectly formed shapes dancing elegantly on their hardened faces. Control, conformity, balality, tedium.
I was finding it increasingly difficult to draw breath in this thinly veneered blanched pathos ridden art and culture around me. In my adolescent mind, I either surrendered to the culture surrounding me, and atrophy, or I found a benign subversion which I could indulge in that would fly under everyone's radar screen. It fascinates me that what started as a way of psychologically staying alive has taken on a life of its own inside of me. I've grown up with neuronal pathways and emotional growth forming through the perverse and darkness of what lies underground.
One of the saddest things that occurred to our family was my 
mother's hideous discovery of the black and white reductionist 'answers' of fundamentalist Christianity. I was an early teen at this point. Her spiritual quest had gone from creative mysticism to a dead end where the family then was led reluctantly to psychologically gnarled meetings with groups of parochial insecure devotees. We started with Baptist, then gradually devolving further into Evangelical and finally to the pitiful nadir of Pentecostalism. Endless Sunday mornings were spent rehearsing smiles on the way to an orgy of right wing conservative sermons and homophobic attitudes thinly cloaked by the righteousness rantings about their disturbing perception of Jesus.
The Spiral into Ex-gay Ministry
In the midst of listening to endless sermons about sinners and the horrors of the mincing predators called homosexuals, I was slowly becoming more aware of my sexuality. I was becoming the thing that I'd been taught to hate. These internal conflicts were excruciating and would eventually lead me in my 20's leading an ex-gay ministry. Lucky for everyone particularly me, I realized the extreme and deluded nature of this damaging nightmarish psychological torture the Church had created and liberated myself.
The Strangely Out of Touch Words from a Sadly Deluded Exodus
The following is an extract from Exodus International website. A warning that anyone who has a rational evidence based attitude towards homosexuality may find this offensive:
"EXODUS is a Christian organization dedicated to equipping and uniting agencies and individuals to effectively communicate the message of freedom from homosexuality, as well as how to effectively convey support and understanding to individuals facing the reality of a homosexual loved one.
EXODUS upholds heterosexuality as God's creative intent for humanity, and subsequently views homosexual expression as outside of God's will. EXODUS cites homosexual tendencies as one of many disorders that beset fallen humanity. Choosing to resolve these tendencies through homosexual behavior, taking on a homosexual identity, and involvement in the homosexual lifestyle is considered destructive, as it distorts God's intent for the individual and is thus sinful."
Options for Survivors of Ex-Gay Ministries
Anyone unfortunate enough to have been exposed to these destructive groups would benefit from visiting:
http://www.freedom2b.org/ This a supportive community of people who have survived these groups and found the evidence based realities.
I deeply regret having spent time with the insidious organisation called Exodus and have since done my best since to educate people about the destructive influences these organisations have on too many innocent people. The only positive thing I feel it gave to it's group members was a forum to meet other guys and women. I know several couples who's long term same sex relationships were forged through the disgusting miasma of Exodus.
With the psychological tortures of fundamentalist Christianity, my parents tearing each other apart, my Dad coming out as gay and my own internal conflicts between being gay and a fundamentalist were all the backdrop for the discovery of my ultimate respite.... words!
The Insatiable Chaos & Joys of Manipulating of Words
The well known Laurie Anderson
One of the most incredible performance artists and master of manipulating words with technology into sublime art http://www.laurieanderson.com/
"An example of the way in which Anderson transforms an everyday occurrence into something strange can be found with the song “Language is a Virus.” Dedicated to the Beat writer William Burroughs who coined the phrase “language is a virus from outer space,” Anderson’s song scrutinizes everyday examples of language-use from pain cries to performances to overdubbed Japanese films. Remarking in an interview that “it’s a strange thing for an author to say that language is a disease communicable by the mouth,” Anderson’s song relates a similar terror of communication." www.pbs.org
One of Laurie Anderson's earlier haunting pieces
Walking and Falling
"A virus operates autonomously, without human intervention. It attaches itself to a host and feeds off of it, growing and spreading from host to host. Language infects us; its power derives not from its straightforward ability to communicate or persuade but rather from infectious nature, this power of bits of language to graft itself onto other bits of language, spreading and reproducing, using human beings as hosts." http://acjournal.org/holdings/vol6/iss3/responses/attias/virus.html
Pic above: virus similar to lymphocytic choreomeningitis
A Surreal Friendship
I developed a friendship with a guy of my own age called Simon. He came from a background of English parents who were obsessed with glorifying their memories of England and complaining about life in Australia. It amused us greatly listening to the rantings about the land they idealised. They eventually left Australia with a sense of great relief. Within a short period of time they returned speaking romantically of the virtues and joys of living in Australia.
Simon was an introverted sullen soul who connected and understood the darkness that I was experiencing at the core of my soul. It resonated with him in a way he didn't want to explore. Music and words were the perfect way of ventilating the bile that was accumulating in my system. Given my myriad of distressing background influences, surrealism was a blissful platform on which to gain some comfort, humour and allow myself to escape the stultifying conformist requirements of fundamentalism.
We'd spend hours and hours writing poems, stories, word games and disturbing cartoons. The manipulation of words became one of my great joys. The game of each thinking of a word and writing it down secretly and putting them together was a source of amazing amusement.
Word fun
glossy pigeon beak
hyperventilating camel poo
fluffy toenails
grinding dolly
pecked out priest
meaningful prunes
artificial chicken toes
religious blow up doll
reverberating strumpet
shaved emotion
serious pygmy pubes
enticing car accident
imperial ring worms
pulsating witch doctor
Above: image from one of Tony Oursler's brilliant video installations
His use of words is an extraordinary complement to his highly original and beautiful installations
Below is one of his installations from the Metro Pictures Booth at the Armory Fair in New York City
http://www.tonyoursler.com/
We'd co-write and independently write unusual and at times dark tales
One amusing tale I wrote about a curious sounding man Rimbald
Insomnia
Rimbald awoke to a gentle thud. He politely dismissed the noise as being an inherent part of a chaotic dimension of a dream although he had no recollection of a dream in his mind. His eyes remained shut to maintain his ebbing body to gently pull his mind into the vortex of sleep.
A terrifying second later, electrical impulses shocked his body into a fully awake state. His leg was heavier and decidedly warmer than the the rest of his body. It must have fallen to sleep with no blood supply. He moved it to a new position in the bed to reintroduce blood supply to its hungry channels. An intense sickly feeling overcame Rimbald as he had no feeling in his leg, yet the other leg sensed soft fur caressing it. This felt like a dream but new it was real due to the nauseous feeling intensifying, as his leg seemed to drag behind the rest of his body.
He switched on the bed side lamp, threw the covers back and almost vomited. A bloated furry form was attached to his leg. The pungent odour almost stung his nostrils and stuck to the sides of his esophagus. In his dazed state he noticed the ears of a rabbit attached to the ball of fur. It seemed to be gently moving like a boat on a slow turbulent sea. Rimbald tried to shake it off his leg, but from the thigh down was paralyzed. He could see it sinking deeper and deeper into his leg.
All his energy had left him, leaving his mind awake only able to contemplate the concepts before him. His struggling body used the small amount of energy to pull himself away from the aberrant vision before him. With this, the lower half separated from the rest of his body with flaccid skin hanging like tattered blinds. Blood was not to be seen, only a soft rubbery red gel lying in contorted shapes on the sheets. The grey fur of the ballooning dead rabbit was now matted with entwined veins and thick drying blood.
Rimbald having a good sense of humour laughed it off and went back to sleep.
An Angora bunny
mother's hideous discovery of the black and white reductionist 'answers' of fundamentalist Christianity. I was an early teen at this point. Her spiritual quest had gone from creative mysticism to a dead end where the family then was led reluctantly to psychologically gnarled meetings with groups of parochial insecure devotees. We started with Baptist, then gradually devolving further into Evangelical and finally to the pitiful nadir of Pentecostalism. Endless Sunday mornings were spent rehearsing smiles on the way to an orgy of right wing conservative sermons and homophobic attitudes thinly cloaked by the righteousness rantings about their disturbing perception of Jesus. 
"A virus operates autonomously, without human intervention. It attaches itself to a host and feeds off of it, growing and spreading from host to host. Language infects us; its power derives not from its straightforward ability to communicate or persuade but rather from infectious nature, this power of bits of language to graft itself onto other bits of language, spreading and reproducing, using human beings as hosts." http://acjournal.org/holdings/vol6/iss3/responses/attias/virus.html
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