Jesus kills He-Man

"Care Bears, eastern cults and satanism" was the kind of headline I remember seeing in the tabloid magazines that littered corner cafes and dining room tables in the late 80's.
Who knows what set me off. Another screening of Left Behind at Sunday school, another video on backmasking. Either way, 8-year-old me got up one day and decided that Masters of the Universe was evil and that by having them all over my room, by playing with them all day, I was pretty much fiddling with the schlong of the devil himself, making it nice and red and stiff like a good little devil-worshiper would.

So, I grabbed my entire Masters of The Universe collection and walked into the kitchen.

It was afternoon and no one was around. Lawnmowers, sprinklers, the smell of fish as I opened the garbage, rubber snapping, the guilty voice in my head.  I pulled off every limb of every He-man I owned that day. The rubbers snapping more and more aggressively; I tossed each one into the bin and I cried the entire time that I did it.

I don’t remember having any conversations about it after it was done. It’s just this painfully silent memory of me and my toys.

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