The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence,Inc.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence

Dedicated to the promulgation of universal joy and the expiation of stigmatic guilt.

A gang of gay men who consider themselves a bonafide religious order... We are very much dedicated to pre-Christian pansexual traditional religions, the nature-loving, sex-loving, pleasure-loving religions of the earth and that people celebrated long before patriarchal Christianity came along and started burning witches at the stake. Our goal is the re-liberation of sexuality based on real joy and sensuality, not fraught with guilt and games. We are joyous pagans and believe in the sanctity of the earth.

Some of the Sisters: Sister Homo Fellatio, Sister Missionary Position, Sister Marie Ever-Ready, Sr. Sensible Shoes, Sr. Marry Rich, Sr. Loganberry Frost, Sr. Boom Boom, Sister Quaalude Conduct, Sister Stigmata, Sister Banana Nut Bread, Sr. Sleeze, Sr. Rosanna Hosanna Fellabella, and more.

At a memorial service for Harvey Milk they used the traditional litany prayer form. They chanted, let us deliver ourselves, interspersed with such phrases as from the hatred of patriarchal religions, from the Ku Klux Klan and Cops for Christ, from greedy speculators, from the two faces of [then] Mayor Dianne Feinstein.

Burr Snider, SF Examiner, Sept. 23, 1981

The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence

... The fundamentalists--a group called S.O.S.-- are here on a crusade to drive the devil from Sodom, and the gays--plus the feminists, pro-abortionists, sexual anarchists, radical lesbians and various free-speech/free sex/free thought outfits--are here to tell them to go to hell--don't pass GO, don't collect 200 souls . . . a sort of entropy has set in . . . but uh-oh . . . The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, honey, have made the scene. Yes, it's the Sisters, San Francisco's sweetest street guerrillas, charging into the Square from the Stockton Street side in all their mock ecclesiastical-cum-high slut glory. A great unified howl of recognition goes up and a circle forms around their procession as the Sisters go dancing and chanting around Union Square, looking for all the world like as if somebody slipped some acid in the communion wine. The Sisters are simply the wildest, most outrageous irreligious vision you ever saw, an order of gay male glitter nuns . . . in habits and high heels, flashing dazzling smiles and sly good humor, oozing out miles of vamp and camp. Nobody ever told the Bible people they'd run into something like this on the road to Damascus.

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A less traditional Sister of Perpetual Indulgence