Already Gone
Adam Daley Wilson
Hold Me Back From My Humanity is a story of crime and abandonment. This story weaves several elements and voices to juxtapose the Catholic Church, a President at the border, and the Mafia. First the narrative recounts a disgraced Church: Its systematic rape and abandonment of children, and its intentional lies, coverups, and false litigation thereafter—Catholic-sponsored crime. Next, the narrative recounts a disgraced President and his disgraced voters: Their systematic orphaning of children, stripping them from their parents, abandoning them in cages—Government-sponsored terror. These parts of the narrative conclude that two of the most central-in-our-society organizations are proven, by their pattern and practice, to have no moral boundaries. No floor of depravity beneath which they will not hesitate to sink. If they ever had a moral floor to begin with, we must remember that their floors have rotted away.
The story then pivots radically to objectively observe that, however antithetical to society it may be in some respects, there is another venerable organization in society that does have a moral floor as to children—standards, limits—a code. Particularly with respect to not harming, abusing, or exploiting innocent children. That organization is the Mafia. Given the evidence we all have before us, as to children, the Mafia is the most moral and trustworthy organization of the three. As such, the narrative asks, if you were at the border, and had to leave your child all alone, who would you trust more? A disgraced Catholic Priest? A radicalized ICE Agent? Or a Mafia Don. If the narrative question seems perverse, consider, objectively, what we all know is happening to our children, and the children of others. We look the other way. We intentionally forget. And it goes on: Children, crucified then abandoned on God’s altar, used and thrown away. Toddlers, shoved in cages, abandoned with malice then, abandoned with malice for life.
It is established in other contexts that the Catholic Church meets all the legal elements to be indicted by a grand jury in federal court, under our RICO statute, as a corporate enterprise engaging in systematic racketeering and organized crime. The Catholic Church is Mafia. The narrative is clear. Only we should not forget—we must remember, if we are who we claim to be—the Mafia is better than the Catholic Church, and less dangerous to the children in our society. The Mafia has standards below which it will not sink. The Mafia has codes. In contrast, the Catholic Church has proven it has none. The Catholic Church, rotting now two thousand years, still has no ethical or moral floor.
This work draws heavily upon Caravaggio’s Basket of Fruit, focusing the viewer on an appropriated section that has been altered. What remains, by intention, is the evidence in the still life of rot and decay—representing, according to many art historians, Caravaggio’s view of moral rot and hypocrisy deep within the Catholic Church. The work then incorporates additional language, written in the artist’s longhand, that adds a final text narrative, in language that is purposefully illegible to the viewer but known to and retained by the artist.
The story then pivots radically to objectively observe that, however antithetical to society it may be in some respects, there is another venerable organization in society that does have a moral floor as to children—standards, limits—a code. Particularly with respect to not harming, abusing, or exploiting innocent children. That organization is the Mafia. Given the evidence we all have before us, as to children, the Mafia is the most moral and trustworthy organization of the three. As such, the narrative asks, if you were at the border, and had to leave your child all alone, who would you trust more? A disgraced Catholic Priest? A radicalized ICE Agent? Or a Mafia Don. If the narrative question seems perverse, consider, objectively, what we all know is happening to our children, and the children of others. We look the other way. We intentionally forget. And it goes on: Children, crucified then abandoned on God’s altar, used and thrown away. Toddlers, shoved in cages, abandoned with malice then, abandoned with malice for life.
It is established in other contexts that the Catholic Church meets all the legal elements to be indicted by a grand jury in federal court, under our RICO statute, as a corporate enterprise engaging in systematic racketeering and organized crime. The Catholic Church is Mafia. The narrative is clear. Only we should not forget—we must remember, if we are who we claim to be—the Mafia is better than the Catholic Church, and less dangerous to the children in our society. The Mafia has standards below which it will not sink. The Mafia has codes. In contrast, the Catholic Church has proven it has none. The Catholic Church, rotting now two thousand years, still has no ethical or moral floor.
This work draws heavily upon Caravaggio’s Basket of Fruit, focusing the viewer on an appropriated section that has been altered. What remains, by intention, is the evidence in the still life of rot and decay—representing, according to many art historians, Caravaggio’s view of moral rot and hypocrisy deep within the Catholic Church. The work then incorporates additional language, written in the artist’s longhand, that adds a final text narrative, in language that is purposefully illegible to the viewer but known to and retained by the artist.
Hold Me Back From My Humanity, 2020
oil on new media
42.5 x 96 in 108 x 243.8 cm
oil on new media
42.5 x 96 in 108 x 243.8 cm
