Sundays


Wanted: a burly intellectual with a keen sense of humor who likes to read on Sunday mornings. Apply within.

I slept in this morning. A hour or so before I woke up, I dreamed about the morning. It was cool. It was a bright, sun-filled morning with birds singing, flowers in bloom. I imagined myself getting up and taking a five-mile walk around Lake Merritt, stopping at a small cottage to admire an incredible hill of irises and to chat with the two handsome men who live there. Back home, the coffee's made, fresh orange juice is on the table, and the Sunday morning paper. There was another character in my dream. He never had a face or a voice, just a presence, and it felt good.

I woke up to a gray morning that wasn't inviting. My back hurt from house cleaning on Saturday, so I didn't feel like a walk. My head hurt from my sinuses stuffing up during the night. I had to make the coffee myself, and there was no orange juice. No Sunday paper either. That presence? Probably that damn cat snuggling up under my arm early in the morning. Sigh. Make it an exasperated sigh.

My mother is due tomorrow for a short visit. She's 77 and in good health. Hell she's still working fulltime. She says she's going to continue working until she gets her social security payment up to $1,000 a month. She started late in that department. Her husband of 20 years divorced her when just before she turned 62. Having been a housewife most of the previous years, she wasn't well prepared for retirement alone. She chose to be contentious and petty in divorcing her husband, and between the two of them, they let the legal cost of the divorce consume about half of what the communal estate was worth. I told my mother she was paying a hefty "stupid tax." However, she didn't ask quarter and she didn't give quarter. The son of a bitch wronged her, and sons of bitches need to pay when they wrong a lady. And ladies have to pay when they spend their retirement money making those sons of bitches pay. So she works full time. She's a tax preparer for the leading name company of that industry.

We have not always been close. One of the characters in YaYa Sisterhood says that all Southern women model themselves after one of the women in Gone with the Wind. I sure as hell understood that. My mother was Scarlett O'Fucking Hara herself. This is my mother the year before I was born.


Dorothy Ruth Droddy English

My siblings and I were always supporting characters in her play, never the other way around. She was married 4 times, had 2 significant affairs, and one significant other that was with her for over five years in her late sixties. My mother comes from a line of such women that stretches back into the late 1700s. My mother is a Redbone woman, although she considers the word vulgar and demeaning. She was a beautiful woman, and she used her beauty as a tool with which she manipulated men. She retired from men around the age of 70. Frankly, none of her children believed her at the time, but she didn't say it for our benefit, she was just announcing a new phase.

I have not always given Dorothy high grades as a mother, but all four of her kids turned out pretty good. What other criteria does one use to judge a parent? We weren't always happy, but we were always fed and clothed. We weren't given a silver spoon, but we were taught that if we were going to have a silver spoon, we'd have to work hard for it ourselves, no one was going to give it to you. I resented her several times as a child, and I was only with her parttime. She shared my upbringing with her mother.

The most generous thing my mother ever did for me and my two sisters was to bring us to California in 1963. She had been married to the World's Greatest Asshole for about 10 years at this time. He had recently returned from Saudi Arabia and had taken a job in California. By now she despised him almost as much as I did, so when asked why was she going back to him, she calmly answered that women did better in divorce in California than they did in Texas. A year later she divorced him.

Then she tricked me into returning to my grandmother's in Texas to finish high school. I figured out that I was tricked and barely spoke to my mother for the next ten years. Jane Kazmarek who plays Malcolm's mother in Malcolm in the Middle says to Malcolm in one episode that she doesn't worry about him because she knows he's going to do alright. That was my mother's attitude towards me. She was right, but I think it was a lucky guess. So when I was finishing high school in Texas so I could afford to go the University of Texas as a state resident, she was in California with my two sisters, a good job, her looks, and a red Impala super sport with a white leather interior. She always had a certain style. I was real mad during those ten years I was mad at her.

I'm old enough now to appreciate my mother as a character. She was and continues to be the star of her own life. She and I are now close friends. I have no fan more loyal, nor friend more dependable. She is still the star, though, and retains the ability to relegate others to a supporting role. Last year I had a dinner party for her, and I was recounting a childhood memory, my mother corrects me in front of my guests and says, "That never happened." If it happened when she was off stage, to her it never happened.

Since 65, she has been around the world, missing only Africa and India. She loves New York and has been there twice, once alone. Five years ago, she went to China with a cultural exchange group. She went to Paris and Normandy with me. In Paris, she got to go on stage at the Folies Bergere and jitterbug to the music of World War II. Another year, we did a pilgrimage with one of her granddaughters to Ireland where she imagines her family is from.

She fell and broke her hip last year. That scared the bejeezus out of us. She's had a full recovery, but no longer do we have the luxury of thinking her invincible. Now when she takes off in her car to see my sisters 500 miles away, I worry a little bit more than I might have before last year. She has not turned over the job of worrying about her to me yet. I hope it doesn't become mine by default anytime soon, either.

Oh, and she despises Bush and Republicans everywhere. Say hi, Dorothy.

Poetry and Cats

First, poetry for our chimp-in-chief, Biff "You know, like wow, I'm the President" Bush.

Friend, that open mouth
Reveals your
Whole Interior ...
Silly Hollow Frog!
- Anon.

Now for cats. Beauregard again. Who else?

Giving President Bush Some Help


The pressure of speaking to the press got the better of President Bush Wednesday evening, and as a result he was unable to remember any of the mistakes he has made, much less the most serious mistake. The Center for American Progress is conducting an online poll to help the President by allowing people to vote for the worst mistake. I'm sure they'll send a nice note to the Prez and inform him of the final vote.

I'm still ranting about the press conference Tuesday night. I can't quite put it down. I was and continue to be shocked by his articulateness. He also excused himself for lying by saying he can only say what he has been told. To prove his point, he proceeded to lie about the amount of mustard gas that was "found on a turkey farm." We also know that "people hide things because they have something to hide." The man is truly clueless. It's almost enough to make you wish it were Jeb there instead of George. Almost.

Attention, Texans

Lisa over at Kamikaze Kumquat has uncovered a gem. You gotta go visit Juanita's, the World's Most Dangerous Beauty Shop. First, Juanita's takes on Gov. Hairdo and his Special Session of the Legislature to raise sin taxes in order to pay for everything. That is so very Texan. In a previous article, Juanita tells us about a recent Tom DeLay visit in Rosenburg (which I believe is in his district near Sugarland) where he rudely told a bunch of teachers they were living in an alternate universe. He's right about that, but not in the way he intended. Go visit Juanita.


Remember when we used to send these little fun links around to each other on email? I just got one from a friend. It was fun. Alcohol and Ammo.

Where Did That Body Go?

Some Christian sects actually go looking for the body on Easter Sunday. Only when they don't find it do they proclaim, "Hallelujah, He's Risen!" It's a little late to call off the celebration for this year, but it looks as though they found it. (Via Lisa, at Kamikaze Kumquat)

I saw Jesus in a tortilla once, but I was more hungry than I was curious, so I ate him.

TBogg Nails It

..."There was, you know, kind of departments that at times didn't communicate.." -Biff Bush

He's just three "like" 's and one "so I'm all..." away from being a 14-year-old girl at the mall.

This is the clown the Right sees as a strong war president? Is inarticulateness a sign of strength? I didn't get the memo.

Squawk, squawk, squawk!

Have you made any mistakes? Him, haw, him, haw, him haw.

Have you failed in any way? Him, haw, him, haw, him, haw.

Have you failed to communicate the importance of the war against terror? Him, haw, him, haw, him, haw.

Shorter, simpler Bush: No. It's not my fault. This is very difficult. I don't speak very well. These are tough questions. No, I communicate well, it's that some people hear stupidly. It's not my fault.

Shorter, simpler Ashcroft: It's Clinton's fault.

Back to shorter, simpler Houston. That man was so inarticulate that I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. He has absolutely no right in the world to claim victimhood because it's such a tough job and he has to read all the time. I'm pretty damn sure if he read half the shit that comes at him from day to day, he'd be more articulate that what we heard tonight. He'd at least know a few more words to use.

Kerry's op ed piece in the Washington Post today annoyed me to no end. It reminded me that Kerry was not my first choice.

Buckle up, folks, we're in for a bumpy ride. Hold on to one another. The election in November is not the great battle between the forces or darkness and evil on one side, and Justice and Liberty on the other. It's still important though. I have only one issue and that is the composition of the Supreme Court. I see that as the crucial issue. Kerry at his worst will do better than Bush at his best. Nothing else matters. What matters if Iraq is free and we aren't?

France, a Report

I am an unabashed francophile. When I was a kid growing up in East Texas, I used to imagine that I was French, even to the point of pretending to speak French. I studied French as soon as it was offered in school. To this day, I still drink red wine, eat several varieties of cheese, and love hanging out at cafes along the Boulevard St. Germaine. I'm only saying this because I'm about to make fun of France.

Wanda needs some light hearted distraction. This was sent to me last year when everyone was making fun of France.

Travel Advisory for France

Travel advisory for Americans heading for France The following advisory for American travelers heading for France was compiled from information provided by the U.S. State Department, the Central Intelligence Agency, the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, the Food and Drug Administration, the Center for Disease Control and some very expensive spy satellites that the French don't know about. It is intended as a guide for American travelers only and no guarantee of accuracy is ensured or intended.

General Overview
France is a medium-sized foreign country situated on the continent of Europe, and is, for all intents and purposes, fucking useless. It is an important member of the world community, although not nearly as important as it thinks. It is bounded by Germany, Spain, Switzerland, and some smaller nations of no particular consequence or shopping opportunities. France is a very old country with many treasures such as the Louvre and EuroDisney. Among its contributions to Western civilization are champagne, Camembert cheese, the guillotine, and body odor. Although France likes to think of itself as a modern nation, air conditioning is little used and it is next to impossible to get decent Mexican food. One continuing exasperation for American visitors is that the people willfully persist in speaking French, although many will speak English if shouted at repeatedly.

The People
France has a population of 54 million people, most of whom drink and smoke a great deal, drive like lunatics, are dangerously over-sexed and have no concept of standing patiently in a line. The French people are generally gloomy, temperamental, proud, arrogant, aloof and undisciplined; those are their good points. Most French citizens are Roman Catholic, although you'd hardly guess it from their behavior. Many people are Communists and topless sunbathing is common. Men sometimes have girls' names like Marie and they kiss each other when they hand out medals.. American travelers are advised to travel in groups and to wear baseball caps and colorful pants for easier mutual recognition. All French women have small tits, and don't shave their armpits or their legs.

Safety
In general, France is a safe destination, although travelers are advised that France is occasionally invaded by Germany. By tradition, the French surrender more or less at once and, apart from a temporary shortage of Scotch whisky and increased difficulty in getting baseball scores and stock market prices, life for the visitors generally goes on much as before. A tunnel connecting France to Britain beneath the English Channel has been opened in recent years to make it easier for the French government to flee to London.

History
France was discovered by Charlemagne in the Dark Ages. Other important historical figures are Louis XIV, the Huguenots, Joan of Arc, Jacques Cousteau and Charles de Gaulle, who was President for many years and is now an airport. The French armies of the past have had their asses kicked by just about every other country in the world.

Government
The French form of government is democratic but noisy. Elections are held more or less continuously and always result in a runoff. For administrative purposes, the country is divided into regions, departments, districts, municipalities, cantons, communes, villages, cafes, booths and floor tiles. Parliament consists of two chambers, the Upper and Lower (although, confusingly, they are both on the ground floor), whose members are either Gaullists or communists, neither of whom can be trusted. Parliament's principal preoccupations are setting off atomic bombs in the South Pacific and acting indignant when anyone complains. According to the most current State Department intelligence, the current President is someone named Jacques. Further information is not available at this time.

Culture
The French pride themselves on their culture, although it is not easy to see why. All of their songs sound the same and they have hardly ever made a movie that you want to watch for anything except the nude scenes. Nothing, of course, is more boring than a French novel (except perhaps an evening with a French family.)

Cuisine
Let's face it, no matter how much garlic you put on it, a snail is just a slug with a shell on its back. Croissants, on the other hand, are excellent although it is impossible for most Americans to pronounce this word. American travelers are therefore advised to stick to cheeseburgers at McDonald's or the restaurants at the leading hotels such as Sheraton or Holiday Inn. Bring your own beer, as the domestic varieties are nothing but a poor excuse for such.

Economy
France has a large and diversified economy, second only to Germany's economy in Europe, which is surprising since people hardly ever work at all. If they are not spending four hours dawdling over lunch, they are on strike and blocking the roads with their trucks and tractors. France's principal exports, in order of importance to the economy, are wine, nuclear weapons, perfume, guided missiles, champagne, high-caliber weaponry, grenade launchers, land mines, tanks, attack aircraft, miscellaneous armaments and cheese.

Conclusion
France enjoys a rich history, a picturesque and varied landscape and a temperate climate. In short, it would be a very nice country if French people didn't inhabit it, and it weren't still radioactive from all the nuclear tests they run. The best thing that can be said for it is that it is not Spain. Remember no one ordered you to go abroad. Personally, we always take our vacation in Oklahoma City and you are advised to do the same. -finis

I'll be back later tonight with some thoughts on Ashcroft's testimony and Bush's press conference.

Got an Easter Bonnet?



Size Queen! If you want some more pictures, visit my gallery.

Flying Pigs



This is Ramona.

Snapshots of Ourselves

1: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4. Write down what it says:
"day. In one sense we can all relax, because" (Lazy Man's Guide to Enlightenment by Thaddeus Golas)

2: Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What do you touch first?
A bookshelf

3: What is the last thing you watched on TV?
Jim Lehrer's Newshour on PBS Friday night

4: WITHOUT LOOKING, guess what the time is:
10:15

5: Now look at the clock; what is the actual time?
9:18

6: With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
Cafe Music by Paul Schoenfeld being played on From the Top, a classical music program for young people.

7: When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
A few minutes ago. Playing with plants on my deck.

8: Before you came to this website, what did you look at?
David's motorcycle on BlogAmy

9: What are you wearing?
Boxers

10: Did you dream last night?
No

11: When did you last laugh?
At dinner last night

12: What is on the walls of the room you are in?
From Right to left: a thermostat; an abstract painting; another abstract painting; a flying pig; a mirror; a moosehead made of paper mache; a candleabra; and a collection of stars of all sizes, and a bearskin rug. (It's a big room!)

13: Seen anything weird lately?
No.

14: What do you think of this quiz?
Interesting.

15: What is the last film you saw?
At home, on DVD, Sordid Lives

16: If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first?
A ticket out of here.

17: Tell me something about you that I don't know.
I'm a recovering Republican. Sober now for 36 years.

18: If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
Distribute wealth among nations a little more equitably.

19: Do you like to dance?
More than my body does.

20: George Bush: is he a power-crazy nutcase or some one who is finally doing something that has needed to be done for years?
Neither

21: Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Keziah

22: Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?
Alexander

23: Would you ever consider living abroad?
I'm moving to Paris as soon as I retire which will be between now and six years.

Okay, that's someone else's 23 questions. I think I'm going to come up with my own quiz of questions. Can't right now, I'm heading off to the 25th anniversary party of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence at Dolores Park in San Francisco. My best friend, Huntly, is their pope, Dementia I. He likes for me to drive him to their events because I have a black cadillac with lots of gold on it. I used to be afraid of going to their events. You know, lightening and all that. Why take chances. What if god doesn't have a sense of humor? Lord knows his followers don't. Then god spoke to me and told me it was alright, and that She would be there too. I'll take some pictures and report back tomorrow.

Last night Katie had her first seder. Not bad, all things considered. It's not exactly traditional to do a fifth night seder, but she's a working girl. The food was good, the Haggadah was awful. I think it was written by a friend of hers. The haggadah is the roadmap for the service. The biggest problem was too much of the writing was too small for these old eyes to see. The next problem was it was too "new agey." Since God is a Black lesbian, I don't think She matters if we occasionally slip and call her "He."

Happy Easter to all. I worked for two weeks on a "what do I believe as a Gay Christian" essay that I decided wasn't written well, despite my earnest desire to share my innermost feelings. Oh, well. I'm off to play.

Guess What They Have in Mind for Homosexuals?

Those Assembly of God folks sure have a keen sense of humor. NOT.

It may not have been as gruesome as Mel Gibson's movie, but many parents and children got upset when a church trying to teach about Jesus' crucifixion performed an Easter show with actors whipping the Easter bunny and breaking eggs.

People who attended Saturday's show at Glassport's memorial stadium quoted performers as saying, "There is no Easter bunny," and described the show as being a demonstration of how Jesus was crucified.

Melissa Salzmann, who brought her 4-year-old son J.T., said the program was inappropriate for young children. "He was crying and asking me why the bunny was being whipped," Salzmann said.

Patty Bickerton, the youth minister at Glassport Assembly of God, said the performance wasn't meant to be offensive. Bickerton portrayed the Easter rabbit and said she tried to act with a tone of irreverence.

"The program was for all ages, not just the kids. We wanted to convey that Easter is not just about the Easter bunny, it is about Jesus Christ," Bickerton said.

Performers broke eggs meant for an Easter egg hunt and also portrayed a drunken man and a self-mutilating woman, said Jennifer Norelli-Burke, another parent who saw the show in Glassport, a community about 10 miles southeast of Pittsburgh.

"It was very disturbing," Norelli-Burke said. "I could not believe what I saw. It wasn't anything I was expecting."

Cooking for Jesus

I stole this recipe from Norbizness over at Happy Furry Puppy Time. It just sounds divine. (Hee hee, pun intended.)

(1) Resurrection Rolls: Give each child a marshmallow, this represents Jesus... Then wrap up the coated marshmallow tightly in the crescent roll.. This represents the wrapping of Jesus' body after death... Place in a 350 degree oven for 10 - 12 minutes (The oven represents the tomb--pretend like it was three days!)... When the rolls have cooled slightly, the children can open their rolls and discover that Jesus is no longer there, HE IS RISEN! (The marshmallow melts and the crescent roll is puffed up, but empty). Alleluia.

Good Friday

Who casts not up his eye to the sun when it rises?
Who takes off his eye from a comet when that breaks out?
Who bends not his ear to any bell which upon any occasion rings?
Who can remove it from that bell which is passing a piece of himself out of this world?
No man is an island, entire of himself;
Every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less,
As well as if a promontory were,
As well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were:
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind, and
Therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.

John Donne


Iraqi dead: 8,800 - 10,600 and rising
Coalition Forces: 744 and rising

How was Condiliar's Performance?

I confess I had little to no interest in Dr. Rice's testimony. No one in Bush's administration is capable of telling the truth. I listened to her briefly, trusting that I could find a summarization of her testimony in the blogosphere. I never expected it to be done as quickly and succintly as this. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Neal Pollack's summarization of Rice's testimony to the 9/11 commission:

Lie, lie, distortion, half-truth, pander, manipulation, pseudo-intellectual bombast. Dodge, dodge, feint, lie, dodge, avoid, subject change, lie, slander, pretentious generalization, character assassination, bald-faced lie.


Oversimplification, undersimplification, condescension, insult, insult, lie, avoidance of responsibility, avoidance of question about avoiding responsibility, cheap political point, utter, malicious lie.


Grimace, slither, dodge, lie, deliberate misinterpretation of history, nonpartisan character disparagement, narrative designed by public-relations experts to create maximum “connection” with American public. Appearance of professionalism, resoluteness, capableness, preparedness. Major omission of lie to create partial truth. Lie for political convenience. Lie for partisan gain. Lie to protect the economic interests of an incredibly small number of people. Reception of flattery. Dispersal of flattery. Abuse of good will afforbed by ten people who are trying to gather evidence without partisan bias. Backhanded dismissal of all criticsism. Denial of any responsibility in orchestrating what will almost certainly become the most tragic and bloody war of this generation.


Rinse and repeat.

I came across this over at NTodd's place.

Which Famous Homosexual are You?

I was quite disappointed that I wasn't the answer to my own question, but I'll settle.

Which Famous Homosexual are you?
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey


This is from Diana. We're all feeling pretty bad today, so maybe this will lighten the mood somewhat.

I Yam Not a Drag Queen!
(although I played one once in a movie about my life)

Amy over at Blog Amy has the scoop on cross-dressing Republican state house candidate, Sam Walls, 64 of Johnson County. [For those not immediately familiar with Texas, Johnson County is south of Ft. Worth towards Waco.]

"... [P]ictures of Walls in women's clothing - several of which were provided to the "Fort Worth Star-Telegram" - began circulating late last week around Burleson and Cleburne, rival towns on opposite ends of the district.

"GOP Treasurer Roy Giddens, Jr., an elder statesman in the Johnson County Republican Party, met with Walls last week to discuss the photos and was assured there was nothing more than "cross-dressing" involved.

"And as far as Giddens is concerned, wearing earrings, a wig and high-heel shoes does not preclude Walls from becoming an excellent state representative.

"'I don't have a problem with cross-dressing,' Giddens said. 'There are lots of them. People think J. Edgar Hoover was one of the greatest Americans that ever lived. He was a cross-dresser.'"

I don't have a problem with cross-dressing either. Who says Texas hasn't come a long way?

Update: Via The Drudge Retort, we have pictures. I copped one, but if you want to see the rest, go visit the source.

Isn't he/she a beaut!

Let me say this about that: I believe in fashion freedom. Why should women get to wear pants and men can't wear skirts? If it seems I'm making fun of this poor sap, it's because I am. Republicans believe in one set of rules for themselves, and another set for the rest of us poor schmucks. Screw that. What's good for the goose is good for the gander. Want to wear dresses and have affairs with your secretary of state, governor, be my guest. I just want to help you get the publicity you deserve. Remember though, until the world is safe for drag queens, it's safe for no one.

THIS is Fucking Brutal Murder!

"Late Tuesday, U.S. warplanes destroyed four houses, killing 16 children. "

Fuck you bunch of wingnuts. You make me sick to my stomach. Eat shit, Owen.

I'm Glad I Didn't Say That

Last week when I saw those awful pictures of the charred bodies of those four Americans, I became sick, literally. It was so gruesome. You know we Americans are real sensitive to that sort of stuff, especially when it happens to us. By the time the bodies had been reclaimed, I had learned that the men were mercenaries. Over the week-end, the major news organizations showed dozens of clips of these private security guys--hired guns, with their expensive sunglasses, guns on their hips. We learned that these guys have been recruited from the elite corps of all branches of the service. These guys are fierce warriors, and well paid. By Monday, they had names, then faces, then families.

Knowing all of this, it is not likely that these guys were there by accident. They didn't take a wrong turn, they were well armed and en route. They were attacked by rocket propelled grenades and automatic weapons, probably because they were an available target. Death was probably instant. Although we cannot know for sure. We're pretty sure they were already dead when the mob went into action to create their own "Mogadishu" moment. Several reports since then have made much to do of the fact that Iraqis are very cognizant of "Blackhawk Down" and the disturbing images within it.

This ugly sideshow has added much fodder to the campaign of the Wing Nuts on the right who say and do everything in their power to demonize Mulims, Iraqis, and liberals. TV from the beginning kept saying what a "brutal" murder it was. Bloggers on the right and bloggers on the left talked of the "brutal murder." Even Kevin Drum referred to the "brutal murder" of the four Americans. The drum beat on the right had begun, and everyone was using it, even the left. The four Americans were brutally murdered by a mob of subhumans, either Iraqi or muslim or both, for chrissake. We Americans like to whip up a fervor when we go to war. Demonization of the enemy is part of the process of whipping up fervor, and the race card is a strong temptation.

Oh, fucking A, I'm offended and shocked by the gruesome mutilation of bodies. A big difference in my mind though, when it comes to extending sympathy is the fact that the four Americans who suffered such awful indignities to their corpses, chose to be where they were. Our soldiers do not have the luxury of choosing to be there or anywhere else. I am offended when anyone says that the four men were brutally murdered while the five marines were only killed in action. I am offended when anyone says that the four men were brutally murdered and casually dismisses estimates of Iraqi casualties that conservatively are estimated at over 25,000. All death during war is brutal.

When I saw those fools in Falujah celebrating this Pyrrhic victory by descecrating those corpses, I got sick to my stomach. In a moment of prescient vision, I saw them turning on each other with the same viciousness. I saw Sunni against Shiite, Kurd against Turkoman and Sunni. There is a terrible civil war coming to Iraq. Bush and Co. will hang in there until June, regardless of American casualties (none of their kids are there), then declare victory and pull out. Bush's withdrawal from Iraq is going to make Reagan's withdrawal from Beirut look like a pageant. After that, he'll look us right in the eye and say, "We won. Anyone who questions our victory is disrespecting the terrible sacrifice of all those young men and women." The crazy wingnuts will jump for joy and call us sorry losers, traitors, even wingnuts.

Then I snapped out of it. Those visions can be disturbing.

I found Sunday's paper this morning, so I thought yesterday was today.

Brenda, warn us to put down our coffee first! Miss What's Up Down South has the world's best collection of excuses turned in by kids in an anonymous school district that needs to stay anonymous as she probably has grandkids going there. At first I thought these excuses might be made up by the kids. I was very good at making up great excuses and signing my mother's name. To this day, our signatures look alike. But back to my point. After reading several, I had this sudden and awful realization that these were written by the parents. Lord, help us. This was my favorite:

"Please excuse Jennifer for missing school yesterday. We forgot to get the
Sunday paper off the porch, and when we found it Monday, we thought it
was Sunday. "

A French Conundrum


Rick Freedman who writes Worlds on Fire has a post up on the controversial banning of the hijab in French public schools. He has provided for us a balanced discussion of the subject and invites our comments. Read his posting first and take your time to follow some of his links.

I admit to a prejudice against the islamic religion as I see it practiced around the world. Its imans call for death to Jews and homosexuals. Women are treated as chattel, subjected to the will of their fathers, their brothers, their husbands. Does the fact that many cooperate in their denigration as second class matter to me? No. Is slavery wrong if the slaves don't object to it? Yes, I think so. The French think so as well. To their horror, they realized there are ghettos in Paris and Marseilles where muslim women are terrorized by muslim fundamentalists. Being unable to constructively deal with this clash of cultural values, the French decided to declare a symbolic war against this fundamentalist terror, and for their first battle, they banned from public schools the hijab, a scarf popular with many western muslim women. Next to the burqa required in some muslim countries, the hijab seems quite modest. Just to seem fair, they banned yamulkas and religious symbols as jewelry, such as stars of david, even crosses if they're too big, but it was the hijab that they were going for.

The abuse of women in unassimilated muslim cultures does not belong to France alone. There are stories about the mistreatment of muslim women by their fathers, brothers, husbands, and even strangers coming to us from Norway, Germany, the Netherlands, Great Britain, even Australia. Indeed, every country which has opened its doors to immigrant workers has had to deal with the abuse of women in islamic culture. Islamic fundamentalilsm in Europe is like the camel sticking his nose into the tent. Slowly but persistently, it has sought to substitute itself for the laws and values of its host countries.

Should France do anything? You may not like the way your neighbor treats his wife, but unless he starts to beat her, you probably ought to stay out of their business. Even as uncomfortable as it makes you feel.

I empathize with the French for wanting to do something positive for young muslim girls. This law, while well intended, is doomed to fail. For this law to operate successfully, it requires a policeman at the door of each school, and that seems pretty oppressive. This law can only be successful if those at whom it is aimed cooperate. I don't see that happening.

It's a test of will between two determined opponents. France has chosen an unfortunate mechanism for reinforcing the secular nature of its schools.. It will fail and the problem will remain unresolved. The French will continue to struggle with it. Just as we do here.

Friday Cat Blogging



I haven't been able to express myself these past several days. Nothing is right. No words fit. There is a cloud passing between me and the sun, and its shadow chills me. It times like this, the best thing to say is nothing. Tonight I write. Right now I'm going for a 5-mile power walk with a co-worker through the streets of San Francisco.

Any Bets on Who's the First...


Cartoonist to come out with a drawing of Cheney holding a Dubya doll giving testimony to the 9-11 Committee? Am I the only one the see the ironic humor in this situation? If Iwere a cartoonist, I'd have it drawn and be famous by midnight on the West Coast. Whoever picks up on this, please give me my five minutes in the sun by crediting me for the idea. How do I call Mark Fiore?

What She Said

I recently blogged on the pledge of allegiance. Essentially I said it just isn't important to me. In my comments section, an anonymous visitor "YY", took the time to reflect on its effect on her/him as someone from a different culture than my own. So profound was this comment, in my mind, that I wanted to put it on the front page. Here it is:

"As a foreign (Japanese) kid in an American school in the fourth grade when first confronted with the pledge becoming familiar with the pledge was part of learning the new language. The act of reciting an oath to the flag of a country not my own (being just a visitor) did not bother me very much and I understood the politics of it for what it was. What always did bother me was the "under God" phrase.

"Growing up in the latter half of the twentieth century in a secular society, in a non-religious household, my natural inclination was toward, how shall I put it, atheism. I felt a greater deal of discomfort in acknowledging God than in proclaiming allegiance to country not my own.

"Americans typically would not be conscious of the invocation of God that occurs in context of authority as would a visitor from a more secular society. Sudden surprise of finding God reference occurs in typical instances: "In God We Trust" on the currency, in the pledge and in numerous instances of prayer as opening to gatherings. Being non-religious, these reminders do cause some discomfort, as blasphemy would to the religious. YY"

I don't think I could summarize the importance any more succintly than this. Thank you, YY. If you ever come back by this way, linger and get to know us. You are very perceptive and articulate. I'd like to get to know you better.

Taco Meatloaf

Now that I have your attention... Thanks, Lisa, it works.

This morning I went visiting, stopped by the Fulcrum to see what Charles2 had to say, and was introduced to Lisa who writes Kamakaze Kumquat. She was great. I didn't have a lot of time, but I read everything she had to say today including links, and still wanted more. So I went into her archives from day 1 to see who this woman is. She's my new best friend. I proudly add to to my list of Cousins in the Heartland. Hey, I llike that. I'm going to rename my blogroll that. Go visit and see what I mean.

What it Says

Amendment 1. Proposed September 25, 1789; ratified December 15, 1791.
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; ...

If Congress passes a law that says we are a nation "under God" then Congress has taken sides in the discussion as to whether or not there is a God. To require a group of school children to then affirm Congress' decision is forcing a religious concept on those children. It seems pretty clear to me.

If the Supreme Court says, "Dr. Newdow, sit down. You're incredibly silly for being here." I would probably agree with them. I think it's an incredible waste of effort and resources. In fairness though, I say that about a lot of issues with which I disagree. Dr. Newdow doesn't need to get your permission or mine to exercise his constitutional rights. It bothered him and he pursued it at his own expense and expertise all the way to the Supreme Court. That's his right. I still disagree with him on the importance, but then I'm a White, Protestant Christian, traditionally raised, so there is no doubt in my mind that the God being invoked is mine. I can afford to be cavalier about it.

As silly as I think Dr. Newdow is though, I have to say that I think he's absolutely right. I also think he's going to lose. Despite what the Constitution says, it means what five of nine justices says it means.

I predict the Supreme Court will allow under God to remain in the Pledge. Millions of kids will continue pledging their little hearts away, never giving any thought to what they're saying, just as they have for the past 100 years. I would like to propose some additional wording to the pledge. They can be tacked onto the end. Here's my proposed sentence: "And I promise to vote in each and all elections."

It would give it a lot more punch than invoking an indifferent God who really doesn't take sides in national disputes.

Friday Pet Blogging



Beauregard's an odd cat. Maybe all cats are odd. I don't know, this is my first. I grew up with dogs. We now have 11 years together. The person giving him to me gave me a line of bullshit about how he was from championship Maine Coon stock.
Maine Coons can get big, real big. Beauregard stopped growing at about 12 pounds. I realized Beau was not a Maine Coon at about 3 years of age when I visited a friend with a real Maine Coon like this one here.

I consider myself fortunate with Beauregard. He has a lot of character. He also enjoys people. I've had parties where it was wall to wall people, and Beauregard gets right in the middle. He doesn't like being treated like a stuffed animal. You may stroke him briefly, in an admiring sort of way. He is a cat after all. He doesn't like being picked up though. How would you like it if strangers 100 times your size picked you up and held you closely. He's not rude about getting away from you, just insistent. He doesn't run away from you once he's free either. It's not you he's rejecting. He just doesn't want to be picked up by a giant he's just met. He likes being on the same level as the company, so he sits on the back of the sofa, or the chair, or the stereo, or on top of my computer as I type--if I let him.

He greets me at the door when I get home, and follows me from room to room, talking. He has a rather small voice which sounds more like chirping than meowing. If I go to the garage, he follows me and hangs out while I putter. In the most charming of ways, he is my constant companion.

A Class Act

Norbizness over at Happy Furry Puppy sums up Richard Clark's testimony Wednesday, calling it a class act. I know a lot of words and their meanings, and I can't think of a word that better describes Clark than that. I thought his response to that idiot Jim Thompson was priceless.
"No, I don't think it's inconsistent at all. I think, as I said in your last round of questioning, Governor, that it's really a matter here of emphasis and tone. I mean, what you're suggesting, perhaps, is that as special assistant to the president of the United States when asked to give a press backgrounder I should spend my time in that press backgrounder criticizing him. I think that's somewhat of an unrealistic thing to expect." (Richard Clark in response to a question by Jim Thompson, former governor of Illinois.)

I haven't had much to say about the 9-11 Commission hearings. There are better people out there who are covering it. My expectations of this commission are absolutely zero. First, it was appointed by Bush & Co. The Republicans on it are party hacks and the Demoocrats on it are suspect. It is not the nature of American politicians to accept responsibility for anything, and that blanket indictment covers Democrats as well as Republicans. That made Richard Clark's apology to the families of the victims of 9-11 all the more poignant: "I also welcome the hearings because it is finally a forum where I can apologize to the loved ones of the victims of 9/11. To them who are here in the room, to those who are watching on television, your government failed you, those entrusted with protecting you failed you and I failed you. We tried hard, but that doesn't matter because we failed. And for that failure, I would ask -- once all the facts are out -- for your understanding and for your forgiveness." (Richard Clark in his opening statement on Wednesday.)

Drink Your Kool-Aid!

Go visit Jesse over at The Gotham City 13, via Michael at Musing's Musings. Kool-Aid. Quenching my thirstitude since I found Jesus. Brilliant, just brilliant. I may have to buy the poster.

Ennui

Listlessness and dissatisfaction. God, what a great word. I'm experiencing it right now. Not my first time, so don't worry for me. Too much.

I having a bit of a disconnect from everything right now. I know you all have felt it, feel it, will feel it, etc. etc. ad nauseum. Nothing matters. Nothing matters. Nothing matters. It doesn't matter how much they lie. It doesn't matter how much they get caught in their lies. They know that their side doesn't believe anything anyone says that's negative. Bush can fart between now and November and his mignons will swear he's singing, joining in the chorus, saying up is down, black is white. Bad is good. I want to focus my thoughts elsewhere. We need to stay balanced, too. Everyone, take a deep breath. Thanks for indulging me. I feel better already. Now, on to today's post.

Old Cat Man's rooster died today.



That's Big Daddy. That's what Old Cat Man called him. He probably called himself Sylvester, or something like that. Big Daddy died today. OCM is marking his passing by taking a moment.

If you haven't read Old Cat Man's blog yet, take a minute or two and stop by. OCM lives on a few acres on the side of a mountain somewheres in Colorado. I think he's in his 60s, retired in the sense of not having to go to an office everyday, but he's wide awake and paying attention, all the time, everywhere. He's also irreverently chronicling our times, cleverly using letters, a bit of photoshop, a sharp eye and biting comment. He and I are close in age and sentiment, yet worlds apart in our experience. As I get to know him, I learn everyday how much more we're alike than different. I'm Gay, he's straight. I live in a mad urban environment, he's up on a mountain in Colorado. Still, our lives and our goals have become interconnected. He may be a new friend to me, but damn, it sure seems close.

Big Daddy's death triggered a lot of thought and memory for me. I grew up in the country with chickens that lived in a yard with a rickety old chicken house with a couple of old roosters, one old, one a little younger. I thought it was natural selection until my cousin told me that it's customary to eat the ones that don't lay eggs, leaving an occasional rooster for whatever reason. You wanted a good rooster, though, cause when a hen decided to nest, you didn't want her incubating blanks.

We boys watched those roosters, too. Remember, we're farm kids. We know the score. That old rooster was getting himself some everytime he turned around. I sure liked that idea, once I learned what "getting some" meant. You hear people say if there is such a thing as reincarnation, they want to come back as a cat and just lie around all the time and purr and get fed. Yeah, and probably be castrated. Farm boys want to come back as roosters. Man, the odds may not be good for becoming Big Daddy, but if you made it, the rewards were great!

Old Cat Man, buddy, I'm with you tonight. Rest in peace, Big Daddy. You had your moment in the sun.

Stupid is as Stupid Does

From the Letters to the Editor of the Cleveland Plain Dealer, via Michael at Musings Musings via Atrios.

"Too high a price on naughty words?"

"I was wondering why the Republicans believe that hearing a four-letter word on the radio is more damaging than death or catastrophic injury. Consider that the Bush administration wants to increase FCC fines for indecency up to $500,000 per violation per station, yet at the same time, it wants to restrict noneconomic damages in tort cases to $250,000 or $350,000.

"So if a DJ says a four-letter word on the radio, the harm is so appalling that a fine of $500,000 per word, per station is justified. But if someone is paralyzed, killed or otherwise catastrophically injured, the most the family could get for the (noneconomic) loss would be up to $350,000.

"Apparently, Republicans have reworked the children's adage about words never hurting to: 'Sticks and stones may break someone else's bones, but words will hurt me worsely.'"

Dennis Mulvihill.
(Mulvihill practices tort law.)

This is convoluted logic at its fundamentalist Republican finest. Fining stations for obscene words enhances the power of the state. Limiting the ability of the individual to obtain redress for injury, intentional and accidental, limits the individual. Hmmm. Oh, now I get it. I don't like it, but I get it. Saying "fuck" is dangerous. Getting "fucked" by bad doctors, sloppy hospitals, and such is just part of the risk each of us takes for being so fucking plebeian as to put ourselves in harm's way in the first place. What a brave new world Republicans want to create for us.

One Year Later



And no, I wasn't there. Instead, I sent another $20 to the Kerry campaign. That's what I would have spent on tolls, fares, lunch and probably a drink at my regular pub.

Last year I was a bit hostile towards the demonstrators. I was still in the "they wouldn't be saying those things about Iraq if it weren't true" phase of denial. I have learned a lot this past year. First of all, yes they would say those things if they weren't true. There are no weapons of mass destruction. Intent to develop programs is not the same. That's not what they said. Yes, I'm happy Saddam Hussein has been taken down. My heartfelt best wishes to the Iraqi people as they attempt to put their lives back together. I'm gloomy about their prospects, though. Iraq sort of reminds me of Yugoslavia in that once the glue (Tito, Saddam) is gone, there's nothing holding the rest together. Just replace the Serbs of Yugoslavia with the Sunni of Iraq, and you have the promise of serious grief down the road.

It doesn't take a crystal ball to see moderation taking the most hits. Extremism always wins in these kind of fights. I guess the most important question Americans can start asking is, "Which state do we put our two or three million new Iraqi immigrants that we'll be forced to take on humanitarian grounds to save them from massacre?" I say we send them to Texas. If they take to Texas as well as the Cubans have to Florida, it won't be long at all before they can have several of their own Congressmen and maybe even a Senator.

Bush & Company's efforts against terrorism seems to be about as successful as puring gasoline on a hill of fire ants. It burns a few, disrupts the colony, spreads them around and makes them real mad. It doesn't get rid of the fire ant problem. Bin Laden is still free. Probably his money is still free, too. Those details are always murky. We've certainly learned that just because our government says something it don't make it so. Boy, are the Europeans mad about that. I fail to understand why Republicans in this country aren't mad as hell, too, but they just keep denying that there's anyway but Bush's way. Everybody's wrong in the whole world except them.

It's true that there haven't been any bombings in this country since September 11. Fundamentalism however doesn't target just the United States. In the case of Islamic fundamentalism, it targets anything identified as Western: Australians in Bali, Germans in Egypt, a neighborhood in Morocco, Jews everywhere. Does anyone truly believe they are safer because Saddam Hussein has been captured and his brutal reign in Iraq is over?

It's understandable how we got sucked in by Bush & Company's strategy. It seems to be an American tradition. In Vietnam we faced a near invisible foe. Did we give up fighting just because we didn't know who to fight? Hell no, we tried our best to bomb southeast Asia into the stone age. Problem with that strategy is that they were already in the stone age. Fast forward to Afghanistan, another stone age country with no rich targets. Damn, what's a cowboy general going to do? Choose another country with lots of rich targets ruled by an ugly dictator that no one likes, especially his own neighbors.

I can just hear those guys talking amongst themselves. "Hey, in Crawford, an A-rab is an A-rab. It don't matter if its Bin Laden, just as long as its A-rab butt being kicked." "Right, boss. We get two birds with one stone. You get credit for standing tall in the face of terror. We get a country rich for sacking." Who knew they were talking about sacking the U.S. Treasury and economy? Who knew?

I'm rambling now. Happy Sunday, all. Take some time off today, take a walk, smell a flower, bless a child, visualize a new government we can trust to help us imagine a better world. I'm going there now. Peace.

Blog Anniversary

One year ago today, I made the first entry into my "blog."

March 19, 2003

Everyone seems real tense. This war thing is getting on everybody's nerves.

Posted by: Houston / 2:40 PM

The Scalia-Cheney Connection

I agree with Scalia. If he didn't recuse himself when he made his friend Vice President, why should he recuse himself now. He's absolutely right. His mind was made up well before he went duck hunting with a man who was Vice President only because of the persuasion of Scalia's influence among his fellow justices, in an airplane owned by an oil company. I might well ponder, who owns whom? Scalia snubs our middle-class expectations of impartiality my attacking the Sierra Club for its audacity of suggesting that his long-term friendship with Cheney would somehow influence how he might hold in a case. Any case. And in doing so, no one asks about the plane owned by the oil company. Maybe Scalia will recuse himself from all future cases where the Sierra Club is a party. That would itself be a plus.

I honestly believe that the duck-hunting trip did not influence Scalia in any way whatsoever. That is not the only reason for recusal, though, and Scalia knows this.

Recusal is also used when the justice wants to demonstrate how important and sacred the law is, by avoiding even the appearance of influence. You want to see this demonstrated, observe the California Supreme Court and how they practice the art of recusal.

If the public loses faith in the courts, our civic agreement is damaged. In this country, we have resorted to civil war only once. To do anything which would make Americans lose confidence in an impartial judiciary is to do serious damage to our tripartite government. Scalia in his cynicism has done us great harm.

Think not? Ask anyone you know if they think the Supreme Court would be impartial should a case similar to Florida occur again in 2004. Watch the ones who say yes. Watch their eyes. Notice the flicker of fear in some of their eyes just before they answer. That flicker of fear is the acknowledgement that the Court is no longer accepted as impartial by half of the country. The fear you see in their eyes is genuine.

I have not voted for a Republican candidate for President in over 30 years. The one issue that has always motivated me: the Supreme Court. I wish I had the option of having other issues in the Presidential race. I don't. It's totally about who appoints federal judges. Kerry at his worst, will do better than Bush at his best. I used to be critical of Bill Clinton for his appointments of Ginsburg and Breyer, but a good friend pointed out to me that both Breyer and Ginsburg are masters at building consensus. That's equivalent to playing no-trump over a bid of spades: stay away from trump and you're commanding the game.

Every night before retiring, I pray for the health of Stevens (84), Renquist (80), and O'Connor (74). Scalia is also up there at 68, but that seems young when compared to Stevens and Renquist. Scalia is evil. He has the kind of ego that would sink the ship just to show his superiority to the rest of the passengers. Intellectually, I think he's incredibly dishonest. He's as faithful to the Constitution as a Church of God minister is at interpreting the Bible.

My point in all of this is let's just make sure the next person who gets to shape the future by his appointments to the Supreme Court is someone whose opinion in this matter is one that we can trust, and it ain't Bush.

What country are you?

I got this from Diana Moon over at Letter from Gotham. The test is deceptively simple.

For the record, I challenged the first conclusion, and demanded a retest. The questions change, so obviously the results. I didn't like my first answer. This answer is okay.

You're Canada!

People make fun of you a lot, but they're stupid because you've
got a much better life than they do.  In fact, they're probably just jealous.
 You believe in crazy things like human rights and health care and not
dying in the streets, and you end up securing these rights for yourself and
others.  If it weren't for your weird affection for ice hockey, you'd be
the perfect person.
Take
the Country Quiz at the href="http://bluepyramid.org">Blue Pyramid

Hail, Canada.

We are called to bear witness to the truth.

My blog-buddy, Wanda, wants everyone in the world to read an essay by a friend of hers.

My reaction to Amy's essay was to first ask, how can I make everyone I know read it? Can't do that, can I? Okay, let me ask nicely. Please, please go read Amy's essay. She says everything that my heart is screaming and that I try to say with each word I write.

I don't have anything to say right now because unnecessary words are but clutter in our minds. What she said.

Getting the Message Across


Going to work this morning, I noticed a guy frantically drawing on the sidewalk in front of the MacArthur BART station in Oakland, California. On my way home this afternoon, I saw up close what he had been doing.


"the dead are ours, the wars are yours"

On another sidewalk, he had done a chronology of the past year on the sidewalk, much like our blog entries have also done. The last panel was this message.


"Here Now, the Future is unwritten. The World is at War. We are both targets and accomplices. What they can do in Spain, we can do here." I do not know who this sidewalk prophet is, but he sure as hell spoke to me today.

What Spain has done, let us do here.

Terror is a symptom of the illness

Lambert, one of the writers of Corrente has an excellent discussion about Bush's failure to make any significant headway against terror because of a fundamental flaw in his understanding of the nature of fundamentalism, the true source of all terror, Muslim, Christian, and plenty of others. He suggests we redefine our efforts by calling it a Campaign Against Fundamentalism. I found it over at The Right Christians. Go read it when you have a few minutes. It's very thought provoking.

Al Qaeda or ETA

The Talking Dog thinks the bombings in Spain are the work of Al Qaeda: "Yesterday's atrocity in Madrid occurred, of course, precisely 30 months to the day after the events of September 11, 2001; more scary, it was pointed out that the two attacks were... 911 days apart (I do the math at 912-- but that's so freakishly close I'll concede the point). Did ETA do it? Not on those facts. Only the gollum monster created by Saudi corruption and paid for by Saudi petro-dollars could be capable of evil to that degree...." The Dog has plenty more to say about the Bushes and their friends, the Saudis. In the comments under this post, is a letter that someone penned in the style of Mark Twain's Letters from the Earth. It is satire at its best. I hope Bernie and Talking Dog don't mind my quoting it here.

"I can't take it anymore. I'm driving this clown around, and it eats at you. Lately, it just doesn't stop eating me up. I've gotta tell someone to ease the pressure. What better place than this site. First, no one I work for reads it. Second, my boss is very familiar with talking dogs. He used to see them all the time, along with yodeling monkeys and scat-singing rabbits. I've been with this joker a long time. In fact, a talking dog told him to run for President. I was there for the hallucinations. I've been there since the boob stumbled his way out of college."

"The final straw was on Thursday, when I drove him to a memorial service in a public park in Long Island. At first, all he kept asking was what was popular with the "Long Islandonians", or was it "Long Islandians?" Once the Crew set him straight (usually by giving him the Gameboy to play), he wanted to know what the memorial was for. "Hey, who died?" Now you know why he didn't speak there."

"Afterwards, it was off to a local fund-raiser, or "fun-raiser" as he calls them. The scene is usually the same, he wants to limbo dance while two blonds pour Jaegar and cranberry juice shots down his mouth. This explains why only a select few have access to him. They pay so much to get into the inner circle, they're gonna keep their mouths shut so they don't ruin their investment. He picked up $1.6M that night, asking each contributor to 'bark if you love me.'"

"I gotta go, there's only a short amount of time when I'm not watched."

"Posted by Bernie Z at March 13, 2004 09:49 AM"

Brilliant, f*cking brilliant.

We are all Spaniards



My heart is heavy with grief tonight. Terrorists have killed almost 200 people in Spain in the most despicable act of terror since the Bali bombing last year. May the dead rest in peace. Amen. May the survivors be healed and made whole, physically and spiritually. Amen. May the guilty be brought to justice. Amen.

Friday Cat Blogging and Poetry

My blogroll to the right is literally, the blogs I read on a regular basis. It is not a static list as it changes constantly. I'm about to celebrate my first year anniversary as a blogger. I'm almost embarrassed to look back, but I grew up believing the measure of a man is not where he is as much as how far did he come to get here. I've come a long way. Everybody over there influences me. Flavors me. Teaches me. And I shamelessly borrow from all of them.

Viking Zen does poetry on Fridays. Calpundit does pictures of his two cats on Friday. N'Todd has pictures of his dogs and cats, and even occasionally a poem. In solidarity with my virtual friends everywhere, here's my cat, Beauregard, in all his regal splendor, and for poetry, one of my very favorite poems that influenced me when I first imagined what my young kitten told me when I asked him the name by which I would call him. (I know that's a convoluted sentence, but I'm pretty sure it says what I meant for it to say.)

The Thought of His Name



And now, from T.S. Elliot, a treatise:

The Naming of Cats
The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, or George or Bill Bailey -
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter -
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum -
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover -
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

Happy Friday. Go out and do good, be kind, be well.


[I substantially changed the first part of this post. It didn't say anything very important before I changed it, and all my changes did was to lengthen it considerably in the same rambling nonsensical sort of way, so... No harm no foul.]

A Few More Pictures


This picture was taken by Sherry Glassman, one of my friends and colleagues at work.

This next picture is one of the two guys I mentioned in my previous entry who exchanged their vows in front of the demonstrators last night.


Stuart Sanders and Ross Ladouceur. Congratulations, boys. You can just tell my their expressions that they are a real threat to heterosexual marriage.

The March

At 4:00 p.m. today, the call went out from one of the very respectable, mainstream (for Gay) , same-sex marriage advocacy groups [Marriage Equality California] for citizens to rally in reaction to the California Supreme Court's decision. I answered the call. For all of you, dear friends of my new virtual community, I responded.



Along with a little help from my friends.




How can my camera make so many look like so few? I was hoping for 25,000 people. We probably had less than 1,000.


These are the faces that the religious right is saying are attacking marriage.



On the steps of the Supreme Court. There was a couple, two young men, who were in the line to be married today, smartly dressed in tuxedos, wearing flower leis, who addressed the crowd and spoke of their heartache at being denied marriage. To an insistant chant of exhortation, the couple expressed their vows of devotion to each other, witnessed by the thousand there gathered. That same assemblage, with a mighty voice, declared them spouses for life. That was a very powerful moment for me.

I don't even have a boyfriend. Still, I can't begin to tell you how this has affected me. In my own mind's eye, I am an unlikely poster boy for Gay and Lesbian rights and same-sex marriage. One of these days I'll have to tell you more of the story of how I came to be, but later. What I'm saying is, I would never have picked me as the one likely to write about this stuff. I'm kind of surprised by it. If what I'm writing doesn't make sense to you, don't worry, it doesn't make sense to me either.

I am experiencing an extreme transitional moment. I am being redefined by it. As with most experiments, if there wasn't an element of doubt as to the probable outcome, there wouldn't be any fun in doing it, now would there?

I'm glad I'm in the same boat as the rest of you.

Cheers.

The Cost of Bigotry in Human Terms

Jeanne Rizzo and her partner Pali Cooper arrive ten minutes after the California Supreme Court issued a stay stopping the city's issuance of marriage licenses to people of the same gender.



It's become clear to me in the past month that the only reason Gays and Lesbians are denied the right to marriage is because of state enforced religious bigotry. That's the long and short of it.

The California Supreme Court's action is not a surprise, but ya' know, it still hurts. This is a short post. Twenty or thirty thousand of my friends are getting together in the Castro this evening and plan a little march down to the civic center. I'll be there with my friends and my family. I know that some of you are with me, and I've got a little index card with your names on it. It's symbolic, but what the hell.

[Update: After discussion with my editor and advisor, I've changed the title to say "Cost" rather than "Price." ]

"People Are Poor Because They're Lazy" - George W. Bush

"At Harvard Business School, thirty years ago, George Bush was a student of mine. I still vividly remember him. In my class, he declared that "people are poor because they are lazy." He was opposed to labor unions, social security, environmental protection, Medicare, and public schools. To him, the antitrust watch dog, the Federal Trade Commission, and the Securities Exchange Commission were unnecessary hindrances to "free market competition." To him, Franklin Roosevelt's New Deal was "socialism." Recently, President Bush's Federal Appeals Court Nominee, California's Supreme Court Justice Janice Brown, repeated the same broadside at her Senate hearing. She knew that her pronouncement would please President Bush and Karl Rove and their Senators. President Bush and his brain, Karl Rove, are leading a radical revolution of destroying all the democratic political, social, judiciary, and economic institutions that both Democrats and moderate Republicans had built together since Roosevelt's New Deal." - Yoshu Tsurumi, Professor, International Business, Baruch College, New York City. (Glocom Platform, Japanese Institute of Global Communications) [via Wonkette]

I just thought you'd like to know.

Hate for Jesus

There was a mob of extreme fundamentalists picketing San Francisco's City Hall today. From the looks of them, I'd say they were pentecostal fundamentalists. The women had long hair in buns, plain dresses with 3/4 length sleeves. The men were dressed in cheap suits and ugly ties. They were screaming hellfire and brimstone. I quickly made a sign that read: JUST FOR THE RECORD... CHRIST SAID NOTHING ABOUT HOMOSEXUALITY, and headed off for the steps of City Hall.

I thought several would have a stroke on the spot from overexcitement. I gave them about 15 minutes before my boredom threashold was breached. Thank God, too, because with that idiot yelling his hellfire and brimstone directly into my face, I wasn't sure my eardrums could stand much more. I still have this ringing in my ears.

Tomorrow I think I'll march against them in drag carrying a book of etiquette and pounding it like its a Bible, imploring them to give up their boorish behavior before it's too late.

In the Flow

This past week-end was an eleven on a scale of ten for week-ends. We've had a lot of rainy and cold week-ends this past winter in California. Spring did not come in February as we're used to. It waited. This past week-end, Spring arrived at my house with all the glow that it brings with it. My jasmine started opening the buds it has sported for two weeks now, my cattalaya orchid spikes seemed fatter and ready to pop open with color, there were plenty of spring smells in the air. I did use my nose spray every six hours both Saturday and Sunday, but that seemed a small price to pay for the two days.

On Saturday, my friend Gary (who is also my hair stylist) and I went thrift shopping for a couple of hours. I enjoy thrifting on a couple of levels. First, I fancy myself a pop-culture anthropologist digging through piles of artifacts. I can't tell you how many times after pulling a strangely designed article of clothing with a message in the design I've exclaimed out loud, "What were they thinking?" I can delight myself for a couple of hours, spend less than $20, and walk away with at least one new outfit. I go thrifting rather than bowling, not that there's anything wrong with bowling, it's just a different kind of high for me.

I end up buying a lot of clothes. Was I a clothes horse before I started thrifting, or did I become a clothes horse because of the advantage I had from thrifting? Tough question, but the answer is the same to both, I'm a clothes horse with a certain, muted flamboyant sense of style that comes from having a wardrobe that most theater groups would be proud to call their own. I know my colors, so to speak, from nothing other than having tried on a lot of clothes. I'm told that long distance runners get into a kind of flow after about an hour or so of running. I'm that way at thrifting. It's a gift. That was Saturday.

On Sunday a group of us drove up to northern Sonoma County and tasted the zinfandels from the 2002 harvest. The weather was perfect with the termperature in the high 70s, daffodils in bloom every direction you looked, and the company of four good friends. The wines were not memorable, but the company and the day were.

I was home by six and in bed by nine. I floated through today from the week-end's glow. God I love it when it happens like that.

Blessed be.

Give Till it Hurts

I gave the Kerry campaign $100 today. If one million people give $100, Kerry can compete with Bu$h. There has to be one million people who are able to give $100 to save this country. If I can, I'm going to give another $100 next month, just in case there are only 999,999 people who can afford $100. I'll take up the slack. This is a time to think that $10 is as important as one vote in Florida. Lord, people, it's the cumulative effect. Reach in your pockets and give. Here's their site. This is our fight.

[I retraced my steps and this idea came from N'Todd Says His Peace. Okay, so now I know exactly to whom I should give credit. Go, dude! You just got the queen of cheap to give money. That's a fucking miracle in itself. I hope John Kerry has about two or three million friends like you and me. It's showtime folks. Let's go out and make it happen.]

Just Say No to Republicans Borrowing Money


What a wild ride this past year has been. We recall a twice-elected governor and replace him with his exact opposite, a steroid pumping, botoxed diletante whose solution to California's budget crisis is to borrow money and let others pay it back. Just say no to Arnold. Vote no on Propositions 57 and 58. If Arnold wants to borrow the money, let him get his hands dirty with figuring out how to run the state with more economic efficiency. It's easy to run against the government, much harder to make it work.

Even though this is not a Gay issue, per se, this is an opportunity for Gay and Lesbian voters to send a message to the governor. We are not just a group he can bash conveniently when he's with his Republican friends in Washington. Riots in the streets, indeed. He owes us an apology for that remark. Not only was it a bald-faced lie, it was offensive. I think this is an appropriate way to demand it. Go ahead, Arnold, try to run the state without our cooperation.

Just say no.

Family History


I spent the past 8 hours or so inputting data from my family tree. I'm trying to re-create a virtual community of my Descended From Families and their neighbors and allies in western Louisiana and eastern Texas in the 1830s through the 1840s. They were a very interesting group of mixed-blood people who left South Carolina for a lot of different reasons around 1803.

Something unique happened to them between 1790 and 1860, they became an identifiable subgroup who came to be known as Redbones. They were mostly isolated from the dominant culture, and facing increasingly discriminatory laws that even denied them the right to legally marry their neighbors who saw them as being insignificantly different than themselves. On three and maybe four occasions the conflicts between my family and the White culture ended in shoot-outs. We didn't take to marginalization quietly. We had guns, plenty of young men who saw themselves equal to any man. Don Marler, author of Redbones of Louisiana, thinks we developed a culture perceived by the dominant society as violent in part to show our unsuitability for slavery, a condition not exclusively confined to African-Americans, but easily included Indians and people of mixed Indian and/or African blood. There is no denying that we were not full-blooded White. We're dark. We claim we're a mixture of American Indian and Whites. We're even willing to concede that there may be some Black blood. No big deal. Well, it was a big deal in 1836 in Texas where we were called Black for the first time. In Louisiana, we were called Mulatto, but nothing inferred by it other than the likelihood that one or both parents had a parent that was Black or Indian. You might say we eventually won. The U.S. census was still listing us a Mulatto until they discontinued use of the term, putting us in the White column from whence we came (we began as White in the 1790 census). Interesting, huh?

We have been considered Whites in Texas and Louisiana since the end of the Civil War for purposes of Jim Crow laws. Throughout the 1800s, there were a couple of dozen cases of members of my family being prosecuted for marrying across racial lines, always White. Extreme racism towards Blacks has been the rule in my family until recent generations, making it unlikely that there were any additional marriages with Blacks. End of story?

Not quite. Texas continues to write its history based on the assumption that since we were accused of having Black blood, therefore we were African-American identified then and we present day descendants of those Ashworths are just in denial for having Black ancestry. This is what the Online Handbook of Texas History has to say about my ancestor, William Ashworth. What they don't say is that in 1800, he is counted in the White column of the South Carolina census, but by the 1810 census, the United States began arbitrarily assigning people into racial categories, first FPC, then later, Mulatto. You can see, the Texas Handbook doesn't see William as being mixed-Blood, but represents him to be a Black-identified African-American. They even use socially acceptable terms rather than those old racist terms from the 19th century, like Mulatto.

A few years ago, I did a Google search of my ancestor's name and discovered a drawing of four of the sons of Keziah Dial and James Ashworth, William, Moses, Aaron and James, as Black men. The author, Dr. David Williams, never bothered to say that the drawings were an artist's conjecture, but even more deceitfully claimed the drawings to be part of a "collection" of the Texas African American Heritage Organization, or TAAHO. Dr. Williams declined to answer any of my several questions and will not be interviewed for the book.

We have never told our own story. I think it's time for us to tell the world who we are. Our name is our story. My other blog, Colored, Outside the Lines is where I work on that project. I know Mr. Steven Spielberg will want to do an epic movie of my family's struggles with Texas, if I can just have ten minutes to pitch it to him... (If anyone knows him well enough for an introduction, please call me me.)

The long and short of it, it's taking me dozens of hours to create a database that will allow me to create a virtual community of this time period. I think I once mentioned that I have 84 first cousins. Square that by a few generations, and you get an idea of how many cousins comprise my database.

My book, like myself, is a work in progress.

Being Cute, Late at Night


Wanda wants to know which Peanuts' character I am.


You are Woodstock!

A Word About Gay Marriage

From BILL MAHER and the Boston Globe
We don't need laws about love

By Bill Maher, 2/14/2004

NEW RULE: You can't claim you're the party of smaller government, and then clamor to make laws about love. If there's one area I don't want the US government to add to its list of screw-ups, it's love.

On the occasion of this Valentine's Day, let's stop and ask ourselves: What business is it of the state how consenting adults choose to pair off, share expenses, and eventually stop having sex with each other?

And why does the Bush administration want a constitutional amendment about weddings? Hey, birthdays are important, too -- why not include them in the great document? Let's make a law that gay people can have birthdays, but straight people get more cake -- you know, to send the right message to kids.

Republicans are always saying we should privatize things, like schools, prison, Social Security -- OK, so how about we privatize privacy? If the government forbids gay men from tying the knot, what's their alternative? They can't all marry Liza Minnelli.

Republicans used to be the party that opposed social engineering, but now they push programs to outlaw marriage for some people, and encourage it for others. If you're straight, there's a billion-five in the budget to encourage and promote marriage -- including seed money to pay an old Jewish woman to call up people at random and say ''So why aren't you married, Mr. Big Shot?''

But when it comes to homosexuals, Republicans sing ''I Love You Just the Way You Oughta Be.'' They oppose gay marriage because it threatens or mocks -- or does something -- to the ''sanctity of marriage,'' as if anything you can do drunk out of your mind in front of an Elvis impersonator in Las Vegas could be considered sacred. Half the people who pledge eternal love are doing it because one of them is either knocked-up, rich or desperate, but in George Bush's mind, marriage is only a beautiful lifetime bond of love and sharing -- kind of like what his Dad has with the Saudis.

But at least the right wing aren't hypocrites on this issue -- they really believe that homosexuality, because it says so in the Bible, is an ''abomination'' and a ''dysfunction'' that's ''curable'': they believe that if a gay man just devotes his life to Jesus, he'll stop being gay -- because the theory worked out so well with the Catholic priests.

But the greater shame in this story goes to the Democrats, because they don't believe homosexuality is an ''abomination,'' and therefore their refusal to endorse gay marriage is a hypocrisy. The right are true believers, but the Democrats are merely pretending that they believe gays are not entitled to the same state-sanctioned misery as the rest of us. The Democrats' position doesn't come from the Bible, it's ripped right from the latest poll, which says that most Americans are against gay marriage.

Well, you know what: Sometimes ''most Americans'' are wrong. Where's the Democrat who will stand up and go beyond the half measures of ''civil union'' and ''hate the sin, love the sinner,'' and say loud and clear: `There IS no sin, and homosexuality is NOT an abomination' -- although that Boy George musical Rosie O'Donnell put on comes close. The only thing abominable about being gay is the amount of time you have to put in at the gym.

But that aside, the law in this country should reflect that some people are just born 100 percent outrageously, fabulously, undeniably Fire Island gay, and that they don't need re-programming. They need a man with a slow hand.

Happy Valentine's Day everybody!

Bill Maher is host of ''Real Time with Bill Maher.''

This story ran on page A15 of the Boston Globe on 2/14/2004.

Rosie's Wedding

I was there, but I didn't have a very good seat. That's all right, though, since I don't know her that well. We were going to sing "Here comes the bride," but we realized that none of us knew the words and we didn't have enough time to go back for our kazoos. We were back in our offices by 2 p.m., just in time for the hail. Scroll down for the picture. It's there, I promise.



This is the view from my office window.


This was the view inside City Hall a few minutes earlier. The photo is by AP Photographer, Marcio Jose Sanchez. He obviously had a better seat at the marriage ceremony than did I. All I could see from my vantage point was the baby blue coat that turned out to be Rosie. Don't care if it was a bad seat, I was there and very proud of Rosie and Kelli. Congratulations to both of them, and a thank you, too.



Be sure to visit S.F. Gate for complete coverage of this phenomenon to which we are honored to bear witness.

Wanda, Go
Bitch Slap this Woman

Susan Sanford, writing for the Daily Mountain Eagle in Jasper, Alabama, says Those who do such things, and those who think they are amusing - or innocent - are worthy of death." Now isn't that special? Susan is beside herself. "My first question is, do these people not read the Bible? Have they forgotten Sodom and Gomorrah? At what point do they think the Lord changed His mind about the sin of homosexuality?"

I think Susan's been breathing too much hairspray, and I know she doesn't get out of Alabama as much as she ought to. Well, there was that one time she and her husband were in New Orleans, you know, in Louisiana, and they were there on Labor Day and lord, Jesus, you wouldn't believe what they ran into on those streets of New Orleans. It wasn't lesbians pushing baby carriages, that's for sure. Hell, I bet her husband is still trying to get her to use the lipstick he bought her. Anyway, somebody needs to tell this woman that we are not a theocracy and it is not all right to advocate in print that someone deserves to die because of something your religion teaches. I don't care what you think at home, Susan, or at church. That's your business. But I don't go to your church. My church says stupidity is a greater threat to humankind than same-sex love. It's been my experience that someone as retarded as you is at the receiving end of a lot of grief. Or as my people say, people like you pay a hefty stupidity tax.

Calling a Spade a Spade


While strolling around the internet, I stopped by my buddies at Buzz Flash to check up on Rick Perry rumors. Other than a demonstration this morning in front of the Governor's Mansion (I've always thought it would make a great Gay bar), not much was happening. I did notice a headline that caught my eye: "Hate Always Lands on History's Bad Side." The author is a member of the Houston Chronicle's editorial board. I'm pleasantly surprised.

Oh, Arnold! You're so, like, girly!


Arnold thinks all those radical lesbians and gays getting married is equivalent to rioting in the streets. No, really, this is what Arnold had to say to Tim Russert on Sunday. "All of a sudden, we see riots, we see protests, we see people clashing. The next thing we know, there is injured or there is dead people. We don't want it to get to that extent.'' No, Arnold we don't, so don't go inviting those kind of people to our party.

He goes on to liken it to someone somewhere deciding its all right to sell assault weapons and, no, you just have to read it for yourself. Okay, let me be the first to say it: BRING ON THE FUCKING RE-CALL PETITIONS! He is a very bad joke in very bad taste. If this is total war, why allow a buffoon to be in charge of the assylum. Let's bring him down.

First step in the war, as I mentioned earlier, vote no on Proposition 57.

The Governor Weighs In


Via S.F. Gate: "Our civilized society and legal system is based upon a respect for and adherence to the rule of law," the governor wrote. "The City and County of San Francisco's unfortunate choice to disregard state law and grant marriage certificates to gay couples directly undermines this fundamental guarantee. As Attorney General, you have the authority to take legal action to require the City and County of San Francisco to comply with the laws of the State.

"Because the City and County of San Francisco's actions are directly contrary to state law and present an imminent risk to civil order, I hereby direct you to take immediate steps to obtain a definitive judicial resolution of this controversy."

Imminent risk to Civil Order?



This threatens civil order? Come again? You've just convinced me to vote against Proposition 57 which I have never really liked anyway. You've just given me a reason. Just because it would cause you to loose your easy out of the budget crisis. Hell, Davis could have done that. You come in, borrow a bunch of money, claim you fixed things and then become Senator when Diane Feinstein retires. (Which my sources tell me may very well be at the end of this term.) Let's just say no to lightweight celebrities messing with our government. So screw you, Arnold. You fuck with us, we're going to return the compliment.

Listen, Arnold, we're hip to the fact that you really don't give a shit about this one way or the other. You really are a live and let live kind of guy. You're getting sucked in by your insufferable ego and false flattery. The Republicans are not your friends. Fate and fortune have put you in a unique position. Don't cheapen your legacy with acts of political expediency that harms others.

Threaten civil disorder, Arnold? Give me a fucking break.

Marriage in San Francisco

Here are some pictures from Friday, February 19, 2004. S.F.Gate also has a wedding photos album here.

But wait, there's more... Middle America has been sending flowers to those courageous young people so intent on celebrating marriage.

"Robert Yamaguchi and Raymond Mungo were waiting outside City Hall in the cold early Friday morning when a florist clutching wedding bouquets handed them one. The outside of the accompanying envelope read, "To The Happy Couple, " and the card tucked inside said simply, "With love from Minneapolis, Minnesota."

That is so incredibly touching. Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

This battle over our right to marriage has percolated to the top all on its own. Most of us would probably have been comfortable leaving it sit for another year, hoping to avoid having it be a spoiler of some sort in the presidential election. We've waited a long time. We could have waited another year. However, the lines are drawn and we now have a moral compulsion to act. Americans have never been more divided on any issue since slavery. I have no doubt as to our ultimate victory, but I do not have enough confidence to think that it's going to be a quick contest and we'll win outright. After all, a woman's right to choose is still being challenged every day, every single day, and Roe vs. Wade is over 30 years old.. The Religious Right is as relentless as the Taliban in their desire to enslave us in their bigotry. I know that's rather dramatic, but when's the last time you saw demonstrators at someone's wedding? How many funerals have you seen picketed other than Matthew Shepherd? These people have us in their cross hairs and are as determined as the Nazis were in Germany in the 1930s. This is not the final battle, merely one in what promises to be a long and sometimes exhausting campaign.