Wear A Jockstrap While You Cry Jesus's Name
Sanctify your next Senate meeting room anal sex video
According to his bio, Brian Murphy, co-founder of Queer Theology, is a “a Jewish queer sacred storyteller who works as an activist, educator, and certified life & relationship coach.” Yesterday, Murphy shared his sacred anal sex underwear with the world via Instagram. (Video possibly NSFW/L).
As seen in the screenshot above, Murphy is entirely serious about sanctifying his openness to random phallic penetration. Emphasis mine:
There’s a reason why just about every spiritual and religious tradition has distinctive garments of some sort. Because what we put on our bodies reflects who we are.
As queer people, we deserve physical reminders that we are holy too. That’s why I started wearing jockstraps (almost) daily as a spiritual practice.
Jockstraps are kinda A Thing in the queer male community. They’re worn during sex sometimes. There are “jockstrap happy hours” at gay bars like The Eagle. They’re seen in sexy photoshoots. Some queer men wear them regularly, as their go-to underwear.
I realized that jockstraps are for (some) queer men what tzitzit are for (some) Jews: a physical garment, worn under our clothes, that reminds us of the communities we’re part of. And that’s when I decided to go from wearing them occasionally on a date or to a hookup to wearing them (nearly) every day.
It’s a statement that my queerness is holy. That my body is holy. That my sexuality is holy. That I’m part of a community. That our practices are good and holy.
In our Queerness Every Day Challenge, we had a whole lesson on making, getting, or picking something you could wear or carry with you every day that would remind you of the connection between your queerness and your spirituality. This is mine.
What might you put on or carry with you that reminds YOU of the connection between queerness and faith? Share in the comments so we can all get inspired by each other.
We’re also thinking about putting together some resources about building queer rituals and spiritual practices. Is that something you’d be interested in? If so, comment RITUAL and we’ll send you a copy of the lesson from the Queerness Every Day Challenge AND keep you in the loop as we come up with more queer ritual stuff.
#faithfullylgbt #gaychristian #queerjews #queertheology #purityculturedropout #queerspirituality #jockstraps
I am old enough to remember when this sort of sartorial sanctimony was a political laughing-stock. While it is no surprise to discover “queer theologians” imitating ritual garment practices of the past, Mr. Murphy is a serious advisor to GLAAD (formerly Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation), the HRC (Human Rights Campaign), and GLSEN (Gay, Lesbian & Straight Education Network), three of the most noxious examples of the Stonewall Effect in the United States. Together with the ACLU, they are the Four Horsepersons of the gender apocalypse in policy and law.
Murphy maintains that half of all “queer-identified” Americans are religious. He is half-right: all of self-described “queers” believe in queerness, sanctifying that word in their own ways. Religion scholars will recognize Murphy as a bricoleur, or what religion journalist Tara Isabel Burton calls a “remixer.” For example, see the image hanging over what appears to be the window of his rectory room door.
“The Fool” is of course the character from the Waite Tarot deck associated with Crowleyan magic and Christian Theosophy. Murphy’s spirituality is an all-American kitch collection, a cargo cultism drawn from a universalizing impulse to, as he says, tell sacred stories.
His Instagram post is therefore a sacred story about his asshole, and its readiness to get fu*ked at random, anytime anywhere, in the name of God. Even, say, a US Senate hearing room chamber. Why, that invocation of religious freedom will surely own the right wing! If Brian Murphy is not free to get fu*ked in the name of God anywhere he wants, is any American truly free?
Thus the Fool, naive and ready for misadventure.
Here at The Distance, we have been calling out the religiosity of ‘gender identity’ gibberish in particular, and queer ‘theology’ more generally, as well as the larger ‘woke’ mindset, since our first days.
Thanks in part to our work analyzing the gender identity belief as a belief, qua belief, it is commonplace for prominent fellow critics of that belief to call it a “cult.” Helen Joyce is merely one example of the trend we have observed. We will set aside a discussion of the difference between a cult and a religion for now. While definitions vary, a faith movement must generally display three behaviors in order to be seen as one: the use of symbols, the conduct of rituals, and a set of beliefs.
This is where the “queer storytelling” comes in. Murphy tells believers in Queerness that wearing symbols on their body, for example underneath what appears to be a pair of denim jeans, will better “connect” their queerness to their spirituality.
Selling sex as salvation is not new in the world. The new thing in the world is “queer theologians” advising the alphabetical organizations shaping public policy and law in the United States around concepts like “the lesbian penis” and men in women’s boxing. We are simply supposed to believe that a man is a woman if he says so, because he is a man who believes very much that he is a woman. That single word, “belief/believe,” fills all the spaces where evidence is missing and excuses all the clothing that is missing.
Meanwhile, a conservative social media influencer created a controversy last week by wearing a gray tee-shirt to bake a cake. Isabella DeLuca, an all-American cake mixer, calls the brown butter caramel cake “by far one of the messiest things i’ve ever made but also the most delicious.” Imagine being so careless as to wear a gold crucifix where it might get splooged-upon in cake batter! Such disrespect. Tsk. And no hair net? Clearly she ought to have worn a holy HAZMAT suit. Sister, do you even halal?
Thus queer theology exalts the sexualized, objectified body, even and especially the de-sexed body, with none of the modesty rules that inform traditional religion, without ever liberating the female half the human race to “be themselves,” even in the kitchen. “Queer” rather inverts modesty rules altogether by putting the man in a hijab to sanctify his fetish for sexual humiliation. This is what they mean by “queering” the culture.
Indeed, Murphy’s jockstrap is also a fetish in the pre-sexology meaning of a material object that he has imbued with magical or spiritual significance: a bottom totem. If you met Murphy in the street, or at a church, or a conference in Denver, Colorado, however, you would never know that he was so very in touch with his spirituality, that the denim material softly rubbing his bare ass cheeks makes him want to shout praise to Jesus.
He might seem entirely sane and normal, if you met Brian Murphy somewhere random, and did not know that he is ready for action like that, almost any time, anywhere.
Brian Murphy wants rainbow religionists to have “resources about building queer rituals and spiritual practices.” Seekers can subscribe for more pearls of wisdom from his spicy homosexual pants. Gayness is just not enough to qualify someone as a unique guru, anymore; you have be a spiritual hedonist in your branding.
The Distance is a reader-supported publication. Please like, share, subscribe, and consider a paid subscription to support our work