Examining the benefits plan of this friendship . . .

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Musing # 563 – All Hail the Earl (part 1)

 

8:05 am the night before King Charles’ Coronation

 

If someone had told me that I would be staying in a tent at St. James’s Park waiting in the tent for King’s gold carriage to pass and Camilia can wave at no one in particular, I would have shot them.  Right now, I just want to shoot myself.  No, I think I’d shoot Angus first.  

My husband, the 12^th Earl of Glamorgan, distinguished MP in the Welsh Senedd, venture capitalist, and one of the richest men in the world you'd never heard of, with the face and body from the cover of your last bodice ripper, chose to enjoy the making of history from a park full of strangers instead at one of the 15 different Coronation galas available to the well-heeled of all types.  Don’t get me wrong, I hate those things too but at least there I could find someplace quiet and one thousand fewer Legos in the grass.

“Da?” called my son David as he dragged his tired body up my leg.  Kneeling, he plopped his cheek against my thigh.  “Da?  I’m sleepy.  Will you put me to bed?  I don’t think I’ll need a story.  We have to be up anyway to see Uncle Chuckles.”  My five-year-old rocked his tiny body against me as a bit of extra encouragement.

I smiled at this boy who was the spitting image of Angus.  I ran my fingers through his mop of big auburn curls, his baby brown eyelashes flittered like the best silent film actress.  “Sure, Reb,” I replied as I pulled him over my shoulder and stood, "although I'm still down for the book if you are." 

“No, I'm really tired," he said shaking his head against my neck.  The family started calling him Reb (short for Rabbi) after he ascended the synagogue platform during my sermon, pulled on my pants leg, and said, “Da, I’m going to help you be a good rabbi.”  The congregation erupted in laughter, much to the boy's puzzlement, and the nickname stuck ever since. 

The children’s tent was only a few feet away and David entered it on his own after forgetting his neediness.  I peaked inside and took stock of what the adults in the family jokingly called “the Glamorgan Progeny”, nine children of various shades, races, and origins – a mixed multitude of ages 5 to 17 – trying to figure out sleeping bag arrangements.   I said nothing, just watched and grinned.  Their playful tussling and jabbing at one another ended up in a big pile in the centre of the tent all facing the holographic TV – Harry Potter always wins out.  I put a few water bottles and a couple of bags of crisps inside the flap and said, “Sleep tight!  And don’t say up late as the King arrives promptly at 10:02 am and expects our attendance!”  I heard scampering so I assumed they at least knew I’d been there.

We had a total of 6 tents directly in front of the steel temporary guardrails, ample tent space for each of the couples and our throuple along with space for supplies.  Angus was smart enough to plan for the hostility we could have experienced.  The 180-year-old family business, Reese Industries brought ribs and sausages that Angus BBQed for everyone parked there awaiting a glimpse of history.  That, some free merch, and two cans each of IPA paid for a great deal of goodwill.   

Standing again, I noted the cold drizzle and pulled my jersey's hoodie over my head.  All around people had also noted the increased rainfall and were packing up for the night, even though it was only 9 pm.  I looked for Angus and caught sight of him passing out 2-person pop-up tents and sleeping bags to those he saw needed them.  Toni was helping with extra small toys and figit spinners for the small children.  By the time they were done, the park looked like a homeless encampment.  But it was going to be peaceful and likely quiet all night in most of those tents.  Reese Industries has a chain of marijuana dispensaries across America and growers were always sending him “samples” somehow.  Now I saw him pass a few bags of gummies to folx I think he assumed would appreciate them, like the elderly couple who met at the Queen's Coronation.  Loosen the joints with Prosecco and maybe they could bring back some of that old magic.

Which gave me ideas . . .

I needed to prep the scene.  I stopped at the tent of provisions and grabbed a couple of packs of pretzels, some crisps, two bottles of sparkling water, grapefruit juice, and three plastic cups.  The pretzels were for Angus, his favourite snack, only these were handmade by me.  And they were infused . . .    I thought I had a bandana around to stuff in someone's mouth as a last or first resort.

I stumbled into our tent, managing not to drop the items I carried.  Toni sat in the middle of the king-size air mattress pressed against a cushy seat back built into the mattress itself.  She was engaging in her favourite hobby – sewing – by bedazzling our daughter Sarah’s costume for the school's end-of-the-year play.  My wife, Toni, was beautiful, like a 1970s Pam Grier, only with should-length dreads.  She looked up at me and smiled.  She was once my best friend.  How we got here, a polyamory relationship with my husband, is a complicated story.   And looking at those light brown eyes refocused me. “I’m almost done,” she said.  “Ugh, it’s barely 8:30 pm!  Maybe we can catch a quick movie or something before we go to bed."  She finished a bangle and examined her work.  Satisfied, she dropped the fabric in a wicker basket and plied the rest of her tools atop.  "I know we have to be up before 10 am but I can’t see myself falling asleep just yet.” 

Neither did I.  “Angus is right behind me.”

“Cool,” her American accent so lovely drifting into my ears.  “I’m thinking we should stay an extra day.  Everyone’s kiddos have Monday off.  We bring them to London so infrequently . . .  well, they should at least get to a museum or two, don’t you think?”

“Uh-huh,” I replied while handing her a thermos.

She looked at me queerly but Angus came in and distracted her.  “Done saving the park?”

Dishevelled and breathing heavily, "Right, well I think everyone is settled for the night.”  Angus held out his few remaining bags of gummies.  “Or about to be, I’d say.”  He opened a bag and popped two in his mouth.  I handed him his thermos.  “Cheers, Mate!” he said before opening it, sniffing it, and taking a big gulp with a satisfied expression.  “Wow, you’re seriously getting good with the mocktails.  This is refreshing as all get out!”  He stopped drinking when Toni got pregnant, at first to support her absence and it became a habit.

“Right, well, I was thinking . . . “was all I got out before Toni interrupted.

“Ah, well, ah, . . . “she started, “maybe this is a good time to . . . to talk.”

Angus is not fond of clothes.  So, he removed his pants, pulled his tee-shirt over his head, and dropped the items on the floor.  You see he missed those prep school classes on cleaning up after yourself.  I retrieved them like a good co-dependent – I am the son of a valet after all.  But that's complicated and part of another story.  Angus nonchalantly stood in front of the bed, scratching his horse-size balls, and asked, “Okayyyy, I'm all ears, I guess."  He climbed into the bed and plopped down to Toni's left.   And this is Britain’s elite?

Toni didn't continue immediately but seemed to be waiting for me to sit down as well.  I shrugged, thinking my opportunity for some noogie had passed me by.   I got into bed too but on her right.  I sensed her tension as if she wasn't certain how we were going to feel about her news.   I wondered if I should have brought more marijuana-infused stuff.  Was she going to break things off?  The sex and the pregnancy were unexpected on our part.  But she wanted the babies and said that she'd give it until our kiddos were ready for regular school before deciding if she would stay.  We still played around together, making it a rule that if there was going to be intimacy of any kind, we'd all have to be together.  This was difficult to coordinate at first – there were many hurt feelings and wasted sperm in the shower.  But COVID changed things and helping the locals and our servants survive and thrive during the height of the pandemic, became our priority.  Soon we had projects to avoid many of the woes of lockdown and found the entire household, particularly us as Angus is head of the house, worked together, nearly always drama-free – Toni, who is a psychologist, wouldn’t have it.  And we shared a lot – from tremendous joy to debilitating devastation.  I'd thought sharing all of that and co-parenting had solidified our intimacy.  Many polyfamilies stayed together supportive by a whole lot less.  But maybe I was wrong. 

"Stop looking so serious!" quipped Toni.  "It's not bad, just, life-changing, I guess."

Angus lay flat on his back, staring at the small built-in LED lights across the tent roof.  Toni had them twinkling.  “Spit it out woman!” he grumbled.

She frowned at him then looked at me and lost her nerve.  But she inhaled deeply then let out in one exhale, “I’m pregnant.  But just one baby this time, Dr. Randolph double-checked.”  Angus said nothing and moved very little.  His eyes were closed and his breaths were very shallow.  Toni looked at him, slightly unnerved by his calmness.  “You’re not excited?” she asked him.

“Not yet,” he said turning on his side toward her.  “You know what I want and if you are still unwilling, I think we should start making other arrangements.  You came here initially just to tell us, not sure if you wanted us involved, if my memory serves me.”  Toni nodded, tears forming.  “Right, and the only reason you're still here is COVID.  COVID is over.  Please don't drag this on any longer.  It will be hard enough to accept that I may only see my current two children a few times a year, and I will have very little relationship with a third.  I have always felt you would leave us considering the number of times you have complained about how backward Wales is and Britain’s systemic racism.”  Toni was disgusted with the concept of the Commonwealth, the Crown, and British history which clashed with my Earl’s pride.  A nasty argument had me sleeping alone for several weeks.

Angus rolled back onto his back.  I knew he was going to start crying too.  They didn't hate one another.  But they are two alphas, and despite a quite equitable division of labour at Morganwg, they argued over every decision even when they didn't disagree.  Once in a while, you’d see one of them trying to hide a grin.

I started to reach over to him, but Toni stopped me when she replied, “Shut up silly!  Of course, I’ll marry you two.  It was just the pandemic; I mean who’s coming to any kind of wedding during a pandemic?”  She sighed then crawled atop Angus.  She just had to add a bit of control by pressing down on his hands.  “Yes, Angus Mc Innes-Reese, I will marry you and your husband.”  She looked over at me and gave me a big smile.  She touched a piece of jewellery from her neck and then took it off.  It was her engagement ring – his mother's ring – and she put it on her finger.  Admiring the sparkling diamonds surrounding a blue Saffire, she said, "I guess we've been doing this a long time anyway.  I know we bicker but, Angus you have to know how I feel about you and Deetz."

Angus sat up on his elbows, his hazel eyes sharp and commanding.  “It has never been about love, you have to know that by now.”  He reached behind him to adjust the back section.  He returned to her, “I know I was less than thrilled when you came to us pregnant with the twins.  I thought you were a gold digger – there have been enough of those, especially once Deetz and I got married."  He took her hand, and looked at the fingers, kissing each one in obligation.  “I did not expect this but then again, I didn’t expect him.”

“Pardon me,” I interrupted, “all this warm and fuzzy is quite fine but,” I pointed at my hardening cock, “this fellow has something to say as well, and he is quite urgent.”  I grinned at my assertiveness, particularly considering my typical submissive stance within our relationship.  I often feel like the secret story of our lives being driven by the constant jive for power between those two.  Me?  I’m a simpler creature.  A few good orgasms and a bit of a cuddle and this queen is just fine.  These two were the ones with standards.  I rested my body on my right elbow and rested my head in my hand.  The fingers of my left tranced long, light caresses between Toni’s bent knee and the top of her thigh.  “You already know how I feel.  And you being pregnant is got to the very best."  I rolled over slightly and pressed a chastised kiss on her arm.  "And right now, I feel deeply honoured to be the father of your children."

“Me too!” added Angus.

Toni looked between both of us, tears of relief falling steadily.  "I still don't understand how this poly thing is legal.  I mean you two are already married."

Angus started mimicking my touches.  Once our timing began to synchronize, Toni’s body started to hum, vibrating against my fingers.  “We’re rich.  Money buys the way with just about everything except a happy home, equity, nor a healthy climate for all.”  He pressed his lips against the top of her shoulder.  Through a long groan, he finished, “The attorneys have a legal plan that makes this throuple more ironclad than any Hollywood pre-nup.  A druid ceremony held in the Celtic Hills in the traditional ways will be honoured throughout Cyrumu and other aboriginal cultures throughout the Commonwealth.”

"Right, we'll have plenty of time for all of that later, won't we?"  I pulled myself up and pushed her back seat down so she lay below me. 

Big natural lashes fanned warm brown eyes.  “I’m sure,” Toni said.  She took his hand and grinned at him.  “You didn’t ask how many months I was!”

Angus beamed, “How many months?”

It roared and lightning flashed outside our cozy magic world, reminding me of the other momentous occasion happening around us.  A few kids and a security team walk past the obtuse front flap mesh.  “Are you sure no one can see threw this screen?” I asked him.

“Of course.  I tested its effectiveness personally.”

“I’m 25 months.”

“With whom?” I recoiled at the possibility of infidelity better than any silent-era actress.

Angus frowned at my over-overreacting.  “With myself and a camera  - and the AI it says it feels no attraction toward humans." 

“I’m 25 months, damnit!” Toni cackled.  We shut up and she sighed, “You two are such children sometimes!  I’m 3 months.”  She grinned and rubbed her belly.

I smiled sheepishly, accepting responsibility for my foolishness.  Another flash then a wave of heavy, cold rain.  I shivered slightly and pulled the warming blanket further up on my chest.  I pulled my body close to her so that I could inhale her perfume shamelessly.  Lightening shot through my body as my cock  skin on her thigh.  "My love,” I said in a low groan as my left hand began massaging her belly from underneath the covers, “you’ve got the kind of skin that makes shea butter covertness.”

While firmly kneading Toni’s soft belly while I watch the changes in her expression in favour of each tension or lightness.  Suddenly, she arched her back and let out a loud gasp.  Angus had his fingers between her legs.  He and I locked eyes, simultaneously acknowledging the need for further sound reduction.  "Spotify.  Playlist #823 with buffer."  The mini speakers sowed in the tent pools ensured that the only sound your neighbours heard from your spot will be Chopin's Nortune quietly drifting up and away within the next breeze, according to the manufacturer seeking investment from Reese Capital.  It’s no wonder we stay rich – people keep giving us shit we don’t have to spend our own money.

"Stop thinking, you!" Angus demands.  "I swear you'd live in that head of yours if I didn't plough that ass regularly!”

“As you wish, your Grace.”  I gave him a deferential nod then got the handcuffs and the ballgag from the duffle.

END OF PART I

What kind of boundaries do you see?. Function/Purpose Keeping People IN Keeping People OUT Mark limits of jurisdiction – symbol of SOVEREIGNTY Promotes. - ppt download

What kind of boundaries do you see?. Function/Purpose Keeping People IN Keeping People OUT Mark limits of jurisdiction – symbol of SOVEREIGNTY Promotes. - ppt download: The partition of India left both India and Pakistan devastated. The process of partition had claimed many lives in the riots. Why was India partitioned this way by the British?

OFFICIAL PRESS RELEASE FROM REESE INDUSTRIES AND the REESE FAMILY FOUNDATON

 The Mac Innes-Reese family, the staff of the Glamorgan Estates, the employees of the Reese Foundation and Reese Industries are deeply saddened by the loss of our Queen.  Yehi zichra Baruch (May her memory be for a blessing).  Our hearts go out to her family and our Commonwealth.  Her love and care for our family can never be repaid and she wouldn’t have taken payment anyway!  Good-bye old friend – how will we do this without you?

Black folx in Wales

 REPRESENT!

Pride in Wales: Rural towns to hold events for first time

Pride in Wales: Rural towns to hold events for first time

OFFICIAL PRESS RELEASE FROM REESE INDUSTRIES & THE REESE FAMILY FOUNDATION

PRESS RELEASE from Reese Enterprises

July 8, 2022

RE: the Prime Minister’s resignation

Boris Johnson has been a blight on British politics since he assumed office.  His leadership of the Tory Party has been chaotic and his energies have been misdirected.  He has allowed nearly 200,000 of his people to die of COVID while he lifted glasses and laughed during unauthorized gatherings.  The Conservative Party has done quite well over the last decade however he cannot take the credit just as he cannot take the credit for many of the good the party has done since taking power. 

I am sad that it all came to this – someone losing an important seat of government.  It is also problematic as he leaves the next prime minister with a mess.  Although the state of the economy is not wholly his fault, I am stunned by the number of opportunities to ease the pain of the average British citizen that were squandered because of someone’s arrogance. 

As always, my family continues to support the Tory Party and we will do all we can to ensure the next prime minister is focused on the Commonwealth and not his or her prestige.

Last Chapter of Felix Tempts Jack Harkness

 Part VII

You never wanted me to get too close

We love and hate the ones we need the most

I tried to find a way to you

One thing I could say to you.

Whatever's written in your heart, that's all that matters

You'll find a way to say it all someday (yeah)

Whatever's written in your heart, that's all that matters

Yeah, night and day, night and day.

 

-          Whatever’s in Your Heart, as sung by Gerry Rafferty

 

“Lube?” asked Jack.

Ianto pointed to a drawer inside a nearby side table.  Jack opened it and grinned.  He looked at the items inside - BDSM equipment, lubricants, and ass toys.  The number and assortment were stunning.  “Wow, Ianto Jones!  Usually, people keep these things in their bedroom.  Are you a secret exhibitionist?  Are you slowly killing the poor pensioner across the street, showing your cock like that . . .”  Jack stopped abruptly and stared at Ianto’s cock like a hungry virgin.  His eyes slowly moved up Ianto’s body, taking him in like a tourist at the Grand Canyon.  When he reached Ianto’s face, Jack’s eyes were all doughy, full of desire and promises.  They projected his true feelings about the younger man – feelings he had done an excellent job, up and to now, of hiding from himself.  Shit, he thought to himself, I don’t want to be in love again.  Not now!  But Jack knew it was too late, precisely two hours too late and this included the hour he spent convincing himself that this sex could be meaningless fun. “My Ianto Jones doesn’t do fun.”

“Huh?” asked Ianto, uncertain if what Jack said was an endearment or a judgement of his character.  “I most certainly enjoy fun.  It may be that my idea of fun is quieter than some others!”

Jack started to explain but decided on candour.  “I think your one of the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever wanted to sleep with.  And I want to sleep with you, Ianto Jones, badly.”

Ianto’s stomach tightened and he took in a sudden gasp of air.   His face got hot and his dick twitched.  “Thank you?  I guess.”  He thought for a moment then continued, “I’m not used to those kinds of compliments.”

It is usually at this point where most couples would have exchanged “I love yous” or pet names.  But a sadness covered this relationship from the beginning and both of them knew it.  Finally, Jack was, for once, the bigger man.  He didn’t have the strength but maybe the young man did.  “Stay away, Ianto Jones, stay far away.  I’ll only get you killed or worse.”  Despite saying that, Jack took the other man’s hand, squeezing the fingers.  Opera directors would have appreciated the stage blocking.

Ianto looked at Jack for a long moment then replied, “I know.  And you know that this is inevitable.”  He kissed Jack’s palm then stood to walk back to the bedroom.  It took Ianto a minute to realized Jack wasn’t following.

“We could fight it!  I could get you a transfer to Torchwood India or Torchwood Tel Aviv.  You’d like Tel Aviv – lots and lots of filing, the Israelis just love organizing things.”

Ianto smiled at him.  “Jack.  There’s no point.”  He took a few steps to be close to that hyper-masculine scent.  He inhaled deeply, like taking a drag on a joint.  “If we’d live in a different world, if we weren’t Torchwood, would you question this attraction?”

“So, you admit being attracted to me?”

Ianto rolled his eyes.  “You already knew that otherwise, you wouldn’t have come to find me.”

Ianto's cock – as it was rolling side to side against the bottom of the trouser zipper – made that question seem silly.

It was Jack’s turn to blush.  He sighed heavily then replied, “You are right, of course.  It’s just I’ve lost so many, so many of the people I’ve loved are gone from me now.”

“I’d imagine that such is the downside of immortality.”  Ianto offered a reassuring smile as he walked back to stand face to face with this mysterious human.  “Jack, let’s just enjoy the time we have.”  Ianto let his lips graze Jack’s right cheek, a light touch that made both men shiver.  “I would rather have just one year with you, really with you, than I would want to live 75 years without you,” Ianto whispered in Jack’s ear, his tone lusting and inviting.

It was Jack’s turn to blush.  Gently swinging Ianto’s hand in his felt . . . nice.  He imagined their life together.  After a long week hunting aliens, they would retire to their small flat where Ianto would cook fabulous meals and serve him shots of hypervodka then fuck like crunch bunnies between bouts of binge-watching tellie.  All they needed was a balcony herb garden.  “You’re not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?”

Ianto kissed his cheek again but then hugged Jack.  “You deserve love and kindness too Jack, no matter what you say,” he stated like an affirmation meme.  “You deserve to be loved and I guess . . . I guess I will be the one to bring love to your life . . . for now.”

“Fuck,” said Jack, “I’ve done bad things, Ianto, unforgivable things.”  Jack couldn’t help but put his arms around his man – his mouth said no but his body went its own way.

Ianto tugged back and looked at Jack with bewilderment.  “Another problem of immortality, I’d say.  You just have more time to get into trouble than we mere humans do!”  He shook his head.  “Right, now listen.  I’m horny as all hell.  If you want a good shag, you’ll come to this bedroom and show me how to please a man.  If not, I’m going back out!”

Jack walked directly to the to the bedroom.  “I thought we were doing it in the living room.”

“Spotify, give me playlist #12.”  Joshua Bell’s violin recreating Shubert’s Serenade in D minor was the first piece.  The intense, cerebral melody helped him relax and be in the moment.  Ianto lay supine in the middle of his bed, patted the left side, inviting Jack to lay next to him.  Jack did as he was commanded, lying on his side.  Ianto came close to him.  He touched Jack’s shoulder with his two middle fingers, making circles down the man’s arm.  Ianto enjoyed the goose-pimples his touch left behind and the sharp intake of breath when his hand found a sensitive spot.  “Where do I start?”

Jack kissed him deeply, quickly moving his tongue around Ianto’s.  When they pressed the tongues together, both their dicks stretched like the tentacles of some of their aliens.  Soon they were rubbing their bodies against one another as if somehow, they could get closer.   Two lonely men opened their hearts to one another and this made the souls smile.  Their bodies vibrated with each contact. When Ianto’s chest hairs brushed against Jack’s nipples, he got a loud groan.  “Jesus, man!  If you keep doing that I won’t last!”  Jack caught his breath then continued.  “Just like every woman is different, every man is different.”

Ianto thought for a moment to recall which movements or touches got the more intense reaction.  “Still, give me a starting point?”  Ianto was embarrassed by his relative sexual inexperience – Owen would use it to bully him. 

Jack offered a sidelong grin, “You were already doing it.”  He put his lips over Ianto’s and looked deep into the other man’s eyes then whispered, “I love to kiss, wet and wild.  I love touching and being touched.”  He lightly bit Ianto’s earlobe.  “And I love to play.  And hear you moan, hear you scream my name, Ianto Jones.  I can’t wait to hear you scream.”  He said this while tugging lightly on Ianto’s dick which was stuck between their lower bellies.  Jack watched Ianto’s eyes roll back, his mouth dropping slightly which made Jack imagined his cock’s head surrounded by those lips.  He pushed Ianto onto her back to make things easier.  Then he sat up, Ianto’s stick still in his hand, and declared, “However, you are somewhat right – blowjobs are different between the human sexes.  Now, the Jussenians were quite the challenge with their two pusses and one very large dick.  It was explained to me that this allowed the individual the possibility of multiple types of orgasms.  It is considered in poor taste on that planet to walk away from a sexual encounter with having your partner come at least four times.”

Ianto gave Jack a grimace.  “Have you ever been diagnosed with ADHD?”

“What?”

“Never mind,” said the eager man, “right, either we can continue talking about your various intergalactic sexual adventures or you can suck my dick and I can offer up a few of those moans you said you like.” 

Jack shook his head briskly, feigning the exasperation of a drag queen with a make-up malfunction.  “You can’t rush perfection.”  He had to slow things down.  A heavy silence fell over them.  This moment was the straw, the line in the sand.  Unless they both got up, dressed, what happed here would change everything – everything would be different. They looked at one another dumbfounded, Jack still holding Ianto’s frustrated prick.

Are we fucking nuts or something?

Jack’s solution was to figure it out later and, meanwhile, submerge Ianto’s cock in his mouth like a sub diving down.  Ianto’s solution was to let him, to fall into a contented body buzz that grew or rested as Jack’s tongue rolled against the sensitive vein along Ianto’s length.  Ianto knew he was fooling himself – Jack was right.  He would get Ianto killed then go on . . . live on without me.  Would he even miss me?  A psychotic panic started rushing through Ianto, another potential buzz kill.  “You won’t leave me, will?  Not while you’re alive, right, you were always loyal to your partners in the past, right?”  Ianto’s voice was frantic and fearful.

Jack lifted his head to note the needy, hungry look in his young man’s eyes.  Puppies have nothing on Ianto!  Jack stretched out and pulled him in an embrace.  But Ianto quailed.  “Don’t trust me, eh?  Don’t blame you on that, with my intergalactic reputation and all.”

Ianto decided to lay it all out as if he had nothing to lose. “If I know I have all of you, dying is insignificant somehow,” he said, everything coming out in a rush.

Jack looked deeply into those trusting eyes, full of hope and anxious tears.  “I can give you what I can,” he said after another moment of silence.  “I wouldn’t give you it all, no, never!  Those things will be too hard, too much evil – much of it I don’t even understand.”  Jack sighed, “Just know, I will give you as much as I can – you can trust that.”  A single tear fell down his face.  “My G-d, those eyes will always get me.” 

Ianto felt the sadness exposed by Jack’s words.  Ianto found himself drawn in deeper, awash in a desire to help – to love away all that melancholy.  He lifted Jack’s chin and began kissing him, chastise first.  But, soon it rose again to the level of desperation and lust from before.  And Jack hadn’t lied, he loved to kiss and was very good at it.  His tongue rubbing against Ianto’s was intoxicating and their movements more urgent.

Kissing, touching, and grabbing one another like two desperate men at an oasis.  They couldn’t get enough of each other, both finding new areas to adventure, both making mental notes about where and how to tantalize the other.  As if by divine intervention, the gospel hymn turned pop song, Bridge Over Troubled Waters as done by Simon and Garfunkel, came across the room’s speakers.  Its rising chorus seemed to infuse their movements with dynamic sparks like a marijuana gummy on an empty stomach.  And there on Ianto’s bed, rubbing their bodies together, both came, one after the other, with sweaty exertions.  When their breathing settled, they pull apart a bit to find themselves stuck together by their now dried jizz.

Jack laughed lightly but Ianto was immediately concerned.  “Sorry, I should have held back.  Does that . . . what we did . . . does that count?”  Ianto blushed at his ignorance.

“Did it feel good to you?”

Ianto didn’t hesitate.  “Yes!  Yes, of course.”  He kissed Jack’s nose then thought again.  “But there’s more, right?  More things we can do?”

“Did you have anything specific in mind?”

“Right,” Ianto pushed out of his mouth, “I want to bend you over my dining room table with your hands bound then fuck your ass until you beg me to stop!”

Wow, he must of made it past PornHub’s cover page, thought Jack.  “Okay, I’d enjoy that actually but let’s pace ourselves, okay?”

“Yes, right!”  Ianto thought for a moment then asked, “Should I put the kettle on?”

“Makes’ sense.”

Ianto joyfully popped up and got off the bed.  Feeling the cold in the room, he put on the robe hanging on his bathroom hook.  “I’ll be right back.”  He felt content and giddy at the same time.  He felt something else as well – powerful.  His dreams about Jack weren’t always as virginal as their last session.  Ianto hadn’t given Jack a complete answer to that question, as he left out the securely applied ball gag and a white ass covered in red handprints.

Jack sat up and leaned against the headboard, closing his eyes.

He didn’t see or hear Felix come in.

Jack was allowing himself to dream of white picket fences surrounding a small country estate, a United Nations of colours represented by children running playing and laughing.  Jack reassures a five-year-old girl that her boo-boo “would stop hurting as soon as her daddy kissed it”.  As he put a parental smooch on the wounded knee, Ianto came out the door with lemonade and cookies.  And as Ianto called out to the children and everyone gathered at the picnic table, a bomb dropped on the house.  It blew up, turning everything into small, unrecognizable pieces.  When the incinerating fire finally died down the only thing left whole was a naked, reformatted Jack Harkness.

Felix’s snarl greeted Jack as he arose from his nightmare.  Felix stood next to the bed, daring him to move slightly in one way, enough of a reason to justify killing the pseudo-human.  He was undaunted, however.  Jack leaned toward the creature and snarled back.  “Why do you hate me so much, cat?”

“He loves you, . . . very deeply actually.”

“I know, and I said I would care for him.”  Jack shook his head then continued, “Why does he love me so much anyway?  I gave him a chance to back out.  He should of taken it!”

“Yes Harkness, it’s all his fault you’ll lead him down the primrose path to destruction.”  Felix sighed heavily, tired of fighting with this man.  “It isn’t his fault after all.”

“I’m irresistible!”

“Arrogance and irresistible are two different things,” sighed Felix.  “Ianto’s feelings have a biological basis, so to speak.”  Felix jumped on the bed and sat facing Jack.  “Many mammals and birds around the universe are programmed to seek their soulmate, to turn a phrase.  Their soulmate is the one whose pheromone pattern matches theirs.  When mates find one other, it is as if to find the other part of yourself, you just click, like a child’s building toy.  Once found, the two would be bonded for life.  The need to find this completeness explains why youthful offspring, particularly the males – who do poorly on their own – become so energetic during adolescence.”

“Is that their excuse now?”

“Frankly yes.  This society has tried all kinds of ways to tame them by repressing their female population, keeping them from full exploration and expression of their sexuality.  The fear is that men won’t be able to handle it and their aggressive tendencies will rage out of control.  Things like the hijab help keep women safe.”

“Now that is the most sexist shit I’ve ever heard,” Jack hurled at the feline.

“Maybe so but it is the truth of the matter.  Because you see, only a few of species, like the humans of Earth, can choose someone who is not their soulmate, some people either don’t look and settle or join with someone based on other factors such as safety or loyalty to one’s family.  In other words, humans can choose marriage outside of their hormonal tribe, so to speak.  The couple, through their children, create a new combination of pheromones that help maintains the right enough of  diversifies in the genetic pool.”

“I guess I’m lucky then.”

Felix hissed at Jack and her ears were pulled back.  “I tried hooking Ianto up with numerous women and more than a few men,” the feline snarled, “but he is your natural mate and for as long as you are around, he can’t help his feelings.”

“You’re saying his pull toward me is related to smell I can’t control?”

“No, I’m saying he is your soulmate.  You know this.  Your people used the original research as part of their attempts at population control.  Idiots ended up with monsters that destroyed the planet”

Jack bristled at the reminder of home.  He was irritated by the painful reminder.  “I’m getting tired of your threats animal!”

“Let me remind you one more time, a bit more forcefully, of my pledge for it seems you didn’t quite understand the gravity of the statements.”  The creature seemed to grow as he stood up and made a few heavy steps toward Jack.”  Felix spit, “That man saved my life and I will be eternally grateful.  You will care for him, look after him, love him . . . you will do this . . . “

“Until I don’t.”

 “That can’t be helped.  It is your fate,” Felix said dismissively.

“Yes, I know.” 

The two of them sat staring far away, the heaviness of inevitability hanging like icing on a cake, until Ianto returned carrying a tray.  “Right, that’s nice!  I’m glad you two are becoming friends!”  They both smiled at Ianto as he served Jack and gave Felix half a biscuit.  He petted his friend as the creature started crunching on the snack.  “Normally I don’t let him jump on the bed, particularly when eating but this feels somewhat special, don’t you think?”

Jack smiled weakly, reached up and pulled Ianto down toward his waiting lips.  “You’ll always be mine, my Ianto Jones.”  He kissed the young man for so long and with such ardour that round three of their lovemaking soon commenced and their tea grew cold at the bedside.

***********************************

Epilogue – after Ianto’s funeral

“What will you do now?” Felix asked Jack as the latter sat in a chair after guests had already left.

“Run, like I always do,” said Jack, his words slurred from days of drinking.  “You?”

“Ianto’s landlady has adopted me.  Her granddaughter lives with her.  They are sweet and felt sorry for me when Gwen and Reese came to clear the flat.  They don’t seem to notice or care about my unusual features.”  Felix watched Jack take another sorrowful pull from the bottle of hyper-vodka.  He felt for the man who missed his partner more than even Felix predicted.  “If there is anything I can do . . .”  It was the best he could offer.

“I thought we’d have more time . . . I wanted to show him so much, go off world with the Doctor.”  Jack’s voice drifted then he shook his head and stood.  He nearly fell over.

“Are you sure you’re supposed to be drinking that stuff?  I mean, in your condition?”

Jack rubbed his extended belly like any expected parent.

“It’s okay.  Baby will heal quickly, just like his daddy.”  He started to take another swig but belched instead, which left an unpleasant taste in the back of his throat.  “Maybe, on the other hand, you’re right.”  He tossed the bottle into a nearby garbage container, the alcohol coating the wall above the waste can.  He pulled his coat over his belly. “I’ve been pregnant and a single parent before.”  He grabbed an opened water bottle from a nearby table and drank some.  “I’d better say goodbye to Gwen and Reese.”

“Goodbye, Jack,” Felix said with some sadness.  Jack had been good to Ianto, as good as any immortal time traveller could.  And Ianto loved back and found the happiness he had thought was reserved for other men.  “You did good, Jack.  You should remember that.  It must be of some solace for you.”

Jack started again to leave but before he walked out the door, he tossed back, “If I’d done good, Ianto wouldn’t be dead now and this daughter I'm carrying would have a father.”  He saluted the feline, turned on his heel and left.

Felix sighed then made his way back to his new family.

 

 

Yep, what he said . . .

George Soros on China: Remarks Delivered at the Hoover Institution 

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

First Chapter of Project Iceworm: a human marriage in three parts

 

From my biographer . . . .

Thank you fans of Deetz and Angus!  You've been waiting for so long for the second book and it is coming together, albeit slowly just like everything else in this pandemic!  My travels to home of the Glamorgan Progeny, Wales, UK, has been limited and interviewing these two on Zoom is not that easy - Angus is kind and a bit flirty while Deetz is the king of one word sentences.  But a flight in late March is looking quite likely as the variant numbers seem to be dropping.  Keep your fingers crossed.  I'd say I'd cross my legs too but that sounds constricting.  Meanwhile, I could use your help.  Here is a link to a draft of chapter one of Project Iceworm: a human marriage in three parts.  It is five years later and Deetz Mac Innes-Reese is about to graduate from rabbinical school.  Hubby Angus is anxious for them to start a family but Deetz has other ideas.  Meanwhile, Deetz's best friend, La Tonya "Toni" Hoffman has come for a visit and Miss Sassy needs a favor.  And, of course, the aliens never stop - this time something is killing members of an Inuit village in Greenland but do deities have such unusual teeth?  As always, there are government shennagins, passionate sex, and, of course, things are complicated - in the 21st century, what does marriage look like?  You know the boys will have unique answers, some of which will piss off the "woke" in Project Iceworm: a human marriage in three parts.

I miss him deeply

 

THE LAST BOOK FROM R. SACKS

BOOK REVIEW

Felix Tempts Jack Harkness - Part VI: Is this wise?

I've been keeping my biographer busy with research, so I apologize this took this crafty writer so long.  Here is her next chapter in this Torchwood fanfiction.  Enjoy!

Part VI – Is this wise?

And you make me talk

And you make me feel

And you make me show

What I'm trying to conceal

If I trust in you

Would you let me down?

Would you laugh at me

If I said I care for you?

Could you feel the same way too, I wanna know

The name of the game

·       Name of the Game, as sung by ABBA

Under normal circumstances, Ianto would be fully engaged in movie watching, the older the movie the better – the silents were his favourite.  But now was not that time.  Now, both of them were semi-dressed again and sitting in the living room.   Additionally, To Have and Have Not was on the tellie and just past the part where Lauren Bacall asks if Bogart knows how to use his lips.  That scene revealed the heat growing between the actors that would bloom into a happy marriage lasting until Bogart’s death.   Watching it now made Ianto a bit sad.  He’d wanted such passion between Lisa and him but it never got there.  And as Ianto thought about it more, he started to accept the possibility – no, the reality – that Lisa did not love him as he loved her.   And he wondered if she would have gone to the same lengths he had to save him from turning into a monster.

“Penny for your thoughts!” Jack asked.  He’d noted Ianto’s face and didn’t like it.  “You look like you’ve come to some unhappy conclusion.”

Ianto shook his head, dismissing the older man.  “No, eh, nothing,” he waved off.  “Right, cup of tea?”

“Sure, should we pause the movie?”

“That’s okay, I can hear from the kitchen.  I put a second screen and speakers in there a few months ago.”   Ianto stood up.  “Snacks?  My sister made me some fabulous,  They should still be fresh.”

“Sure,” said Jack.  “Are you and your sister close?”

“Do you mean does she know about Torchwood?  No, but otherwise we are close.  She’s married with a couple of kids.  I visit when I can.”  Ianto looked off longingly, wondering if he too would ever have a family.  “Visiting them is a nice change.”

Jack chuckled.  He recalled the families he had created over the decades, some successful, others not so much but each long gone and visits became awkward over time as folx aged and he did not.  Yet, Jack had forgotten how much he liked being married, despite its difficulties and struggles.  “Have you thought about having a family?  I mean, to hear Gwen and Reese . .  . well, that’s all they talk about when I go to their house for dinner.”  Jack wasn’t sure he should or could talk about that part of his past, especially after his last marriage – it was all so painful, and he’d done things for which there was no forgiveness – no coming back from.  Immortality just gave you more time to fuck up.

Ianto didn’t answer.  He was already in the kitchen wondering how he could convince Jack to return to bed and finish Ianto’s education.  Jack heard the young man moving around, the clink of items being loaded on a tray.  It took Felix to remind Jack why he should not get any crazy ideas.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Harkness!” sneered Ianto’s pet.  “You have little to offer other than your sex skills.  We both know this.”

Jack leaned into the animal who lay on a fluffy grey bed on the floor near Ianto’s recliner.  “Now you shut up, you scraggly feline!  I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you, Harkness?”  Felix sat up in the bed, looking imposing.  “I love that man, you know!”

“I love him too!” The words fell from Jack’s mouth before he could stop them.  He would have retracted it, but the creature would have known he was lying.  Nevertheless, saying it aloud stunned Jack.  “I’d never hurt him”, he whispered.

Felix came closer to him then said, “I know you wouldn’t hurt him intentionally – that lovemaking from before was not something out of a Tinder fling.”  The cat’s face was less accusatory as he was feeling sorry for Jack all of a sudden.  “Listen, I know you care for him.  I know you have kept it to yourself for quite some time.  I know you will protect him with your life, if necessary.  But, I also know that your lifestyle, your world is what kills those who love you.  The longer he is with you, the higher the risk . . .”

“I know,” growled Jack.  “Do you think I like this?”  He clinched his lips and sneered, “I’ve tried, I really have.  But . . . he follows me and his . . . smell . . . is intoxicating.”

“He says the same thing about you.  Do you know he sniffs your coat at night before going home?”

“So that’s why he always ‘straightens my office’ before he leaves.”

Felix turned twice and curled back into his bed.  He sighed, “I suppose then there is nothing I can do.  You’re both hooked.  Just promise me, promise me you’ll be good to him . . . good to him until the end.”

“I promise nothing will happen to him.  I will protect him, I said!”

“Jack Harkness,” the cat sighed again and closed his eyes, “I know you will protect him whatever way you can.  But Ianto Jones will die on your watch . . . it is the fate of everyone who tangles with you.  I just want you make sure Ianto knows until the end that you love him and will not forget him as you have the others.”

“What?  I have forgotten none of them.  Each one is like a deep scar on my heart!” groaned Jack.  “What do you know, you . . ,” but Ianto returned with a tray of tea and small white pastries.

“Are you two talking?  It would be nice if you got along,” said Ianto as he set the tray on the coffee table. “I mean, if you come by sometime again.”

Jack reached up and grabbed Ianto’s hand, palm-side up.  He looked deep into Ianto’s eyes before he kissed the sensitive skin at the pulse point.  “Ianto Jones, I plan to come here often.”  Jack waited for the image to reach Ianto’s cerebral cortex and for the shiver to roll down the man’s arm.  He waited a few heartbeats more to let sexual images float in the young man’s mind like an erotic dream on acid.  “However, right now, let’s have tea and some of these delightful treats.”  Now Ianto blushed then shook a little while serving Jack.

Jack noted how Felix shook his head like a strict schoolteacher.  He also knew that the disapproval pointed to Jack’s overreliance on sex and sexuality.  “Why do you serve me?  You’re a Dom by nature.  If anything I should be serving you.”  In the back of his mind, Jack wondered if he had anything to offer this man whose eyes betrayed his deepest feelings.  There was sexual curiosity along with care so intense, it stunned Jack and he wondered what he did to deserve it.

Ianto finished serving them both and returned to his recliner opposite Jack before answering.  “I’ve never thought of myself in such terms, but your suppositions have some merit.  However, there is much power in submission.  Someone once told me that it is the sub who controls the relationship.  By serving you, I make you dependent on me – ‘need’ has a strong allure and service can be very intimate.”

“Sounds like an advert for Downton Abbey!” Jack teased.  It reminded him of something Angelo would say –a statement that was erotic and sensible at the same time.  They both fell silent and found themselves awkwardly staring inside their cups, unable to determine next steps. 

Ianto summoned up the bravery to speak first, “Jack?”

“Yes?”

“Let’s take the tea into the bedroom.”

Jack smiled sheepishly then replied, “Yes, that sounds like a good idea, Ianto Jones.”

They brought their nervousness with them.  They sat next to each other in the bed, as if locking eyes would cause the next tear in the rift.  Instead both studed the saltwater fish tank across the room.  Jack couldn’t help but think of how that was just so Ianto – every imaginable gadget and formula to have a colony of aquatic life swim one way and back again like a meme.  And for some reason, this made Jack smile for he found the idea of it “How do you British say it, ‘brilliant’?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.  I’m Welsh.” 

Jack looked at him queerly which led both of them to break out in laughter and made moving forward less daunting.  Ianto kissed Jack tentatively at the corner of his mouth, almost like what your Nana gave you when the family came for holiday.  But for Jack it was searing like a steak touching a hot cast iron pan.  Jack closed his eyes and let go, releasing all his fears about the future and the guilt from the past.  Jack turned his body toward him, cupped Ianto’s face and pushed his tongue inside the other man’s mouth.  He was rewarded with a deep satisfying groan. 

Suddenly, Ianto pulled back.  He looked at Jack then said, “Be gentle with me.”

Jack offered one of his famous sidelong glances.  “Are you kidding me?” he said as Ianto got up to straddle Jack’s legs.  “I’m afraid I’m the prey here!”

Ianto removed Jack’s undershirt.  He returned to slowly caressing Jack’s chest.  He liked the goosebumps this was creating.  Jack’s skin felt alive, like each cell was a cornel of popcorn and Ianto’s hand was the heating element – pop, pop, pop.  When he raised his pointer finger and traced Jack’s lips, Jack let it happen, breathing deeper to control his growing arousal.  “Amazing,” slipped from Ianto’s mouth.  Ianto took Jack’s wrists and crossed them over his head.  He pressed them firmly against the wall, and instructed, “Keep them here.”   

Ianto had that strict schoolteacher voice down.  The baritone flair made Jack grin but held back as such was an inappropriate reaction in such circumstances – just plain bad form.  “Yes, . . . sir?”

“Yes is enough,” Ianto confirmed.  But now what?   Ianto had never gotten much farther than this in his fantasies.  Usually, he’d blown his load by this point.  At least once a day, especially during the work week, he had to wank off about Jack  – preferably in the shower before dressing for work (to get him through the day otherwise he’d spend all the day trying to hide his erratic erection) and before bed (Ianto did this on the couch; he didn’t know why).  Then he had an idea.  He bounced up, finished removing his clothes then said, “Get up.  Finish undressing and get up.”  He moved frantically and didn’t know why Jack didn’t understand the urgency of the moment.  Then Ianto realized that Jack was staring at him; no, Jack was admiring him or, more accurately, admiring Ianto’s body.  It was as if Jack saw something that Ianto couldn’t.  No one looked at me with desire before, not even . . . what’s her name? was inside Ianto’s thought bubble.  He realized then that he’d reflectively grabbed his cock, stroking it distracted as if its pleasure in it all was superfluous. 

Jack noted Ianto’s hand slowly moving up and down his red beast.  He didn’t move his arms despite an ache to reach out and put that tasty lollipop in his mouth.  But Jack held back, determined to help this man walk through the door and explore who he was.  “Should I release my own wrists?”

“What?  Oh, right.”  He walked over and leaned in front of Jack, then acted like he was removing the binding.  Unfortunately, Ianto didn’t initially realize the disturbance he was causing Jack until he watched Jack’s eyes move back and forth as Ianto’s prick swung like a pendulum in front of the seated man’s nose.  “Oh, terribly sorry,” he said while quickly getting back off the bed and covering his jewels with his hands.

“Doms never apologize.  They only adjust direction.”  Jack got up to follow orders.  He discharged his clothes on the floor and while Ianto was diverted by that mess, Jack added, “You are beautiful, and I can’t wait for you to sink that rock hard pole in my ass.  But I think a high-back chair would work better this first time.”

Ianto grabbed a wayward towel from the bed then followed Jack back to the living room.  “What do you mean?”

Jack looked around and chose a dark brown chair near the window.  He started to sit when Ianto jolted forward and dropped the towel on the seat just before Jack’s ball sack hit the cushion.  “Are you sure this is such a good idea?”

“What?” asked Jack, his hands dramatizing his question. 

“I don’t think my neighbours need to see this,” Ianto replied.  He walked over to the picture frame window and lifted a switch.  “Several seniors are living across the street and I don’t want to be the cause of their demise,” Ianto added as the vertical blinds closed.

“Are you sure they wouldn’t be taking notes?”

Ianto shook his head then checked that the binds were secure.  “Get up,” he said in a slight growl.  

Jack sensed that the young man was no longer joking.  He stood up and watched Ianto take his place in the chair, leaning back a bit to push his waist forward.  He took a hold of his cock again, this time with mindfulness, as if it was a holy offering.  “Didn’t you say something about riding this?”

“Oh yes, that I did!

November 28, 2021 - PRESS RELEASE

 

From the desk of Rabbi Viscount Desmond MacInnes-Reese

Congregation Emanu-El – Cardiff, Wales, United Kingdom

(DRAFT) This letter to the editor is in response to the Winter 2021 piece issue of Jewish Action “The View from Pew: Where Do We Go from Here?”

This article is a wonderful starting point for understanding the 2020 Pew Study of Judaism in America. It clearly identifies not only the population loss in the American Jewish world but begins to elucidate how these causes are different within the orthodox and progressive communities. Yet, it isn’t honest enough. We have to present and face some of the difficult questions and behaviours that exist throughout the tribe but also appreciate that some problems are unique to the particular denominations and thus need different answers. I strongly believe that if we approach this “crisis” directly, we can turn a problem into a catapult of religious expression not seen since the days of the rabbis.

Just as in the last studies over the for 40 years, there has been handwringing on the preverbal Jewish “left” and “right” when it comes to the 2020 Pew study. Each time, you hear “End is Near” for Jewishness in the US as youth  continue to abandon or simply ignore the faith community. I believe, as did Rabbi Lord Johnathan Sacks, z’l declared in one of his last presentations, that this is an opportunity to again reconstruct Judaism post the Shoah. 

However, the only way we will transition from a crisis to an opportunity is if we consider the similar and unique needs in progressive and orthodox communities (I am purposely avoiding the “secular Judaism” of most Israelis as well as our homeland’s rabid, power-hungry ultra-orthodox.  The additional factors vivid in those groups are better left for another time).  And we need not wait until anti-Semitism has disappeared, as many of our elders' caution. In the 21st century, we expect that anti-Semitism won’t go away anytime soon and its disappearance is not our responsibility but the responsibility of those who claim to be our allies. A few of us can stand guard – foundations and action groups who have been doing this for decades – while we straighten ourselves out. Frankly, it’s hard to fight yetzer hara, the evil inclination, outside while plagued by the one inside. Ask any abuse survivor.  

We need honest conversations within and across progressive and orthodox Jewish groups about how we are failing the current and future Jewish community. And we shouldn’t be afraid. I imagine these are some of the same discussions since the days of the rabbis. 

We are the only civilization that exists in a perpetual identity crisis. A proactive approach would mean both groups:

·                 Recognize one another as natural, historical tensions across people trying to manage the challenges of the world they live in now. This is particularly true for those living outside of Israel where Jews are a minority and sometimes a minority within a minority (Jews of Color or JoC, for example.

·                 Recognize one reading of the Torah isn’t better or worse than another. Our faith is based on argument, debate and no interpretation of a living document is truer than another. All understandings and conceptualizations have emotional traps and philosophical dead ends. Like Mordecai Menahem Kaplan insisted I believe each generation must reconstruct the text to answer the questions faced today in ways that are relatable to Jews who live in the present. The orthodox are certain and the progressive hate to admit they too believe Torah has only one truth and only the orthodox know it. 

·                 Recognize and visibly fight against the discrimination and abuse rampant in their midst, whether it’s the excessive costs of day schools or the sexual abuse within yeshivas. I will speak to the racism found amongst progressive Jews in a moment. Stories of sexual abuse of children and the horrendous treatment of women escaping domestic violence need open, honest investigations by civil authorities so we don’t follow the example of the Catholic church.  Anyone who uses a child for his or her own deviances should be shunned, not a woman in fear for her life escaping a violent marriage.

·                 Recognize that the losses from both camps have different causes and thus different solutions; once we address those, attacking the above will be easier because each group would come to the table from a position of strength instead of a position of fear.

·                 Recognize that expressions of Judaism always lead people back to the synagogue. Does that mean that the shul needs to be all things to all Jews? No, it just means that it needs to be the spot that the Jews in that area recognize as safe and sacred. It may be now where we go for formal occasions (conversion classes, bar/bat mitzvahs, weddings, etc) that are more often associated with families and elders. However, more couples are not having children and their needs may feel more comfortable celebrating life and contemplating Hashem in other environments.

·                 Can’t synagogues have affiliated groups, extension activities and groups “off-campus” that offer a different access point to Judaism? And if you don’t have the type of shul you need to feel the joy of Hashem’s presence, then build it – Chabad figured this out early on and has grown in members as a result.

To capture the hearts and souls of those Jews who have wandered away from the tribe, progressives and the orthodox also have some internal struggles, for example:

·                 The orthodox need to accept that not only is there too much to tempt youth away from observant living, but social media makes those things too easy to access. Like some communist satellite state circa 1970, you can only isolate people so far for so long before everyone becomes an enemy of the state for wanting a pair of jeans.  

·                 The orthodox have gotten too otherworldly. The Torah is a living thing given to us to help with the world we live in now. And the answers aren’t “let’s go back to the 15th century” – we can’t no matter how much we want to. And the problems/needs of the most Haredi of families are very different than anything imagined by the Baal Shem Tov.

·                 Progressive Jews have to decide if orthodoxy is the true Judaism that we “just don’t do anymore” or if Reform Jews who fully participate in shul are good Jews too. Progressive Judaism is Judaism.

·                 Progressive Judaism has to remember that not everyone wants to be a social justice warrior and there are other important, fundamental reasons people join a faith community. People have questions around hope, family, sadness, loss and other of life’s queries.  In community, we celebrate the best and comfort during the worst of life, by always being available when one’s life gets interesting. The line in the Wedding Song goes “For whenever two or more of you are gathered in His name-There is Love, there is Love.” (I know, a problematic reference considering its focus on non-feminist, cis-gendered unions but a cute song nevertheless).

·                 Racism has no place anywhere in Judaism but this is particularly onerous coming from folx who claim their liberalism like a badge of honour.  I don’t care how many social justice activities you have participated in during the last decade, if you ask a Black person who walks into your synagogue, “Excuse me but do you belong here?”, you are a racist.  Additionally, let’s be honest – as most people apply a hyper-capitalist, cost-benefit analysis to most decisions - Jews compete for souls with a Christianity that offers an easier historical and familial option for many POC. By the numbers, frankly, we should welcome anyone who is seriously willing to join a club that assures additional social distain.

In private, there are discussions amongst people of different backgrounds but who, by some happenstance, formed personal friendships. Those conversations need to be more public and louder. If we are the “Chosen people” then we need to pull up our trousers and accept the struggle like adults.  Let’s show the Christians and Muslims how to do it, eh?