Americans have become so painfully obsessed with morality we’ve all but abandonded ethics.

Too many steer by some absurd moral compass as opposed to basic rules that any group of humans should abide.

I’ll put that another way and not to make you more comfortable. We’re so ridiculously consumed with judgement and diving for a role to render it, we’ve abandoned common sense and the idea of walking in the shoes of another.

Tragic in more ways than one could possibly swing a dead cat.

The rub is thus, morality is nebulous and subjective. More than vulnerable to wrongheaded interpretation. Ethics are hard and fast rules, based more on the doctrine of ‘do unto others’, rather than the ‘don’t covet thy neighbor’s wife’ school of thought.

See? One is Jello. The other is currency.

Don’t bother telling me I can’t lust. I have no control over it and refuse to beat myself up for it.

Those who value morals over ethics, go home, cook up some lime Jello and cover your gold bullion with it. If you’re not rich, you’re obviously stupid. If you’re stupid, try mayonnaise and pineapple on top. It’s tasty.

The wealthy can afford to perpetuate a moral code of their own because they have money to cover their asses and it’s a wonderful vehicle for them to exert influence and control.

We have ethics. Trust me when I tell you it’s better to have ethics than the morals of anyone else.

Pineapple and kiwi make my tongue itch and swell. The sides of my tongue will then chafe against my bottom molars and cause considerable discomfort for a few days.

Morality inevitably sucks compassion and sensitivity out of a society if allowed to commence without check.

I have my own moral code. I struggle with it. It is mine, I’ve no desire to foist it on anyone else. I may have set my bar a bit high but it’s better than too low.

At the same time, I expect that others will not steal from me, betray me, treat anyone without equality or kill anyone I love. These are ethics.

They seem elementary. They are. There is a myriad of ways to break these simple rules, however.

My particular morals are an extension of ethics. As it should be, but they are my individual rules. I decide these things myself. They are mine. I endeavor to keep them to myself.

But, I’ll share a little for the sake of example. I do not betray confidence, especially if I understand that something bad has happened. I wouldn’t protect a serial killer mind you, let’s just say I possess secrets that will never experience sunlight on my behalf because it wouldn’t change a goddamn thing.

I don’t care who you fuck, why or how, as long as it’s consensual and not my girlfriend. I believe war is immoral unless we’re attacked or know for sure we will be. I believe the rich should help the poor and shouldn’t seek tax loopholes or to hide their filthy lucre in offshore accounts.

I believe I don’t want fuck all to do with your church, your thoughts on abortion, sex, contraception, civil rights et. all. Those are morals generated and perpetuated by a religious bureaucracy that is absent accountability or logic and insists on defying the brick and mortar fundament of ethics.

It is unethical in every way to fuck little boys or exploit the poor by taking their money. It is a betrayal and a theft to posit that God favors one political candidate over another. It is a betrayal to insist creationism is taught in any classroom or to withold any information about birth control.

Any grey area associated with issues like these are afforded by someone’s morality. Ethics remain crystal clear.

I trust my friends to go further. We are friends and I will not take advantage, exploit or lie to them. My real friends see it the same way. We are here to support and enrich each other. I try very hard not to lie to anyone.

If I don’t give a mad fuck about you, I might lie to you. Morals.

Drinks for my friends.

I watched the American Women’s Gymnastics team at the Olympics tonight and had two thoughts:

They are amazing. They tease and defy gravity with muscle and balance. Fascinating and compelling.

I felt vaguely pervy as these are not women, but girls, who’s physical maturity has been suspended by vigorous athleticism.

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