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Ovid’s “Conceptio”

To the pagan world, the conception of their God-man would have been passionate, erotic, and beautiful sexual intercourse between the mortal woman and her god. Zeus was heralded for the many bastard demigods he fathered with mortal women. There would be no great heroes of the Ancient Greek religion if it were not for Zeus’ libido. And there would be no Messiah nor Son of God if it were not for the libido of the Holy Spirit during the conception of Jesus through Blessed Mary, Ever-Virgin. The gospel writers Matthew and Luke make the Hebrew God impotent in the conception of Jesus; while another ancient writer, say Ovid, would have seen the conception as a beautiful, romantic encounter and not some inexplicable Mystery.

Take a moment to rinse the taste of bile from your mouth. This is the essence of this scene featuring the eroticism of the Virgin Mary, a woman considered by Christians to be the Mother of God and to Catholics, in particular, eternally a virgin.

To the faithful of the three great modern monotheist religions, the eroticism of God is a blasphemy of the highest order, repugnant beyond all reason. To pagan polytheists, the sexuality of their gods was an every day fact of life. If Zeus had not fathered an untold number of demigods with mortal women, there would be virtually no great heroes in the Greco-Roman religion. This is called theophany (Greek: appearance of God)

To imagine the conception of Jesus the Christ, through the distorted lens of the pagan Roman poet Ovid, it is an offense surely worthy of eternal damnation in the pit. To Christians, the instrument of Christ’s conception is what Catholics have for two-thousand years considered a great Mystery of faith, an element of belief that should not be questioned or even pondered. It simply is. Ovid, on the left hand, would have seen the conception, not as a Mystery, but a beautifully erotic moment between the Hebrew God and his faithful servant, Mary, who would soon be the pregnant with His only Begotten Son, Jesus.

“Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee: Blessed art thou among women.”

What manner of salutation ’tis this?

“Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with God. And behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus. “

How shall this be, since I know not a man?

“The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overpower thee: therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.”

Behold the handmaid of the Blessed Lord;
Be it ’to me according to thy word.

“There comes a sound from Heaven as of a rushing mighty wind.
Appeareth cloven tongues like as of fire!”

O! thy fiery tongue of the Psalm sung.
I yearn for thy afire tongue. My passions wrung!
Lap the cunt’s water of Eve’s pure daughter.
Shalt my child be a Lamb led to slaughter?
When Rabbis observe my intact chaste fold
Shalt thy knowest still am I a virgin
As the prophet Isaiah hath foretold.
My lusts come forth without original sin.
Why wast my own mother’s menses unrotten?
Immaculate Conception I begotten;
Whense from the Creation as was designed!
Thy tongue on my tongue. Our kisses entwined.
My spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour
Doth the Spirit savour my cunt’s flavour.
O! stunned am I by the fiery tongue;
My lungs quick with breath. O! my clitty stung
By thy tongue’s waspish sting. Thy tongue. My twat!
Whenat God a child in my womb begot.
My bush burns with fire and yet not consumed
Is my hymen when my scion enwombed.
My distress to God cries in heresy.
Beneath my ass, the earth reels, rocks. Gramercy!
Up my nostrils smoke and devouring fire
From thy mouth, glowing coals my sweat perspire.
O! my mountains smoke and tremble and quake.
Ride me like a cherub ’til my hips ache.
From the shame of voyeurs, darkness us covers
A canopy thick clouds divine lovers!
O! my climax flashes forth lightning
And routes my cunt’s orgasmic tightening.
Passion rains on me from the clouds hailstones.
His love eternal. Blessed am I alone!
No one cums from the Father except me!

From Marquis de Sade’s A Midsummer Night’s Wet Dream [IIii, 259-305]

Written by Fridthjof Dyr Jorden in collaboration with Ophelia T’Wat

About Fridthjof Dyr Jorden

“I hear the voice of the Devil!” These words could have only ever been spoken by the Messiah Himself (cf. Mt. 4:1-11) and madmen. I was reared a devout Roman Catholic. I was an altar-boy. I took Communion every Sunday. I studied the Bible. I prayed the rosary. I intended to enter the seminary and become a Priest. My faith in God was unflappable and my fear of the Devil was inescapable. After years of self-professed Atheism, I have returned to my faith in Jesus Christ, albeit different. I accept Jesus Christ as my Lord and Saviour, but I also recognized the role Satan has in my life. Praise Jesus, hail Satan.

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