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.

Getting into it with Christians

From my office today, I noticed that the line had formed again at City Hall in San Francisco. The line? Gays and lesbians from around the country had gathered at City Hall in an attempt to get married. During my lunch hour I walked down the line talking to the people waiting. Most were from California, although not necessarily San Francisco. There were, however, couples from half a dozen different states. I asked them if they had tried getting married back home. None had. I congratulated them and wished them luck. I also told them to take the revolution home with them. "Go home and get married. Go to your county clerks and demand licenses. Go to your priests and ministers and rabbis and demand they marry you. Make them either do it or look you in the eye and say no. Make it personal. Put a human face on their prejudice." I thought I was pretty fucking eloquent, but that's just me tootin' my own horn.

Later in the afternoon, the Christians arrived with their professionally printed signs (not that there's anything wrong with that) warning all that hell fire and damnation was waiting the soddomites flaunting their sin in God's face. No, really, they did talk like that. Now, I'm a Christian. I come from a very hornery protestant tradition of Christianity. My people have never been shy of looking someone in the eye and saying to them, "That's not what the scripture says to me."

I had a few issues with these "Christians." First, was the guy holding the sign wouldn't kiss me. Brother, says I, give me the kiss of peace, as Christ has commanded us. "Stay away from me," he hisses as he backs up. "Brother," says I, "I'm a Christian, too. In my church, it is customary for us to give each other the kiss of peace when we greet each other." "Stay away from me," he warns.

"By what authority do you judge me?" I ask. He proceeded to preach that I would be condemned to hell unless I repented. I noticed that he had 3 scripture references on his sign. We all know them. First, there's always Leviticus where it says men that know men should be killed and the blood is on their own hands. Then there's the two verses where Saul of Taursus, who was later called Paul, condemns what the fundies say is homosexuality. I read those verses tonight. I'm not that sure that's what they say at all.

Anyway, these people came down to harrass the couples lined up to get married. That pissed me off. So I decided to have some fun with these cretins. I was raised by a Pentecostal grandmother. I can quote scripture with the best of them. Although I was baptised a Roman Catholic as a child, I was mostly raised by my Redbone grandmother, and let me tell you right now, she was a Christian. I'm pretty sure she had Jesus' personal phone number. I learned to read by reading the Bible.

So, I asks the young homophobe, "Doesn't Jesus say anything about homosexuality?" They always switch away from Jesus to God when you go there. God spoke through Paul, the young idiot tells me. "Or so Paul says," I reply. Well, here's the story for those of you who didn't get it before. Because the Bible exists, that proves it is uncontrovertible. It is the word of God, because if it weren't, it wouldn't have survived the centuries. You can't make this shit up.

Just to keep my young homophobe Christian in check, I went back to "Why won't you kiss me?" He accused me of having ulterior motives of lust, like he should be so lucky as to be in my league. Puh-leez!"

I was on a coffee break, so I couldn't stay much longer, so I started this approach. "Do you know the only sin Jesus personally condemns in his ministry?" I ask. He starts by telling me all the things Jesus told us to do, so I interrupt him and say, "but what was the sin he personally condemned, and said that if it wasn't repented, it was an ongoing sin?" When he didn't answer immediately, I told him. Jesus said, "What God has joined together, let no man put assunder." He said that a man could not divorce his wife. It causes them both to be adulturers. Living in adultery is an ongoing act of sin against God. Continuing in my un-Christian like way, I asked them, are any of your parents divorced? Yes, of course, they are. "You heterosexuals have trashed marriage!" I screamed at him. "You have sinned against God, and continue it more so everyday. Your mothers are all whores! You're all the sons of whores!" I was being mean. I also hoped that one of the boys would make the foolish mistake of getting physical with me. First, I'd love to scrapple with those boys. I might even cop a cheap feel or two. That'd freak 'em. [I said I was a Christian. I didn't say I was a good one.] Second, I'd love to have them all arrested for assault. That would be a sweet headline. "Christians attack Gays at City Hall." Thirdly, I had about five of the butchest lesbians in the crowd covering my back. We would have had some fun.

Instead? After I called them "sons of whores," I looked at them and laughed, "You're a bunch of fucking idiots." Finally, the young man who had been entertaining me the most, said "Jesus says you shouldn't have a potty mouth." "I'm not sure where that is in the Bible," I answered. "Probably right next to where he says to love thy fellow man."

This was all fun and games, but it misses the bigger point. The argument over Gay Marriage is an issue of civil rights, not religious differences. I don't care what your religion says about homosexuality. That's your religion and none of my business. There is a 220 year tradition in this country of dividing civil and religious. If your religion says that homosexuality is wrong, then don't practice it. If I do it's my business, and the Supreme Court has backed me up on this, even with it's Republican majority.

As far as marriage goes, there is no "sacred" tradition of marriage in this or any other country. Marriage has always been defined by each generation. Used to, a man could have several wives. He could have children by his concubine. A man used to simply buy a wife. These are some of marriage's "sacred" traditions. If my generation wants to give every individual the right to determine the nature of his relationship with another person, i.e., the right to marry, then so be it. It doesn't have to be taken from you in order for me to have it. God may or may not be on your side. The Constitution, however, is on my side. See you in court.


[Update: I apologize to my friends and readers who are Christian. You're absolutely right: it's not fair to label all Christians just because a bunch of narrow-minded fundies manage to tarnish the word and the idea. I will henceforth call them either fundies (short for fundamentalists) or Taliban (because of their desire to impose a theocracy on us, by the sword, if necessary.]

This is Lame, just plain Lame

We all know the President is an "idea" man, like Reagan. Yeah, right. Mr. Altzheimer, the idea man. G.W. sure knows how to pick his heroes. He's allowed to say whatever shit he wants, but when he's held to account, his people tell us "he's not a statistician." Or like, whatever. You know, they really do talk like that. Like, really. They must, because they could never spout shit like that if they didn't believe it, and they couldn't believe it, unless, like, they were totally so lame. You decide.

First Bush, now Perry?

Of course, this is just rumor, but Byron over at Burnt Orange Report is pointing towards a story over at Buzz Flash that says Rick Perry, the Republican governor of Texas, is about to be divorced by his wife for his sexual shenanigans with another (gasp!) man, pictured here:
. Geoff Connor is the Secretary of State for Texas. Which one do you think is the top? I say it's definitely Perry unless, of course, Geoff has a huge dick. Everybody curtsies to the real big dick.

Y'all are thinking: he's getting kind of gross here. We are not here to talk about the size of anyone's appendage, especially the fucking governor of Texas. Okay, to you sensitive ones, I apologize. I have only one question: who did you call when Bush was fucking over us? Define once again what you mean by obscene. "Gross" is what those bastards have done to us and our republic.

Not that there's anything wrong with it, but ya' know, first Bush tells the Canadian Prime Minister's assistant that he has a pretty face, and now this. It gets curiouser and curiouser.

Of course, they are a cute couple.

What did you do during the war, daddy?


I've said it over and over. I'm not mad at Pres. Bush for avoiding Vietnam. I'm mad at him for being dishonest about his motivations and how he succeeded. He pretended to be for the war but worked hard to keep his own ass out of harm's way. That is just wrong. This country's success is predicated on our equality before the law. For him to take a short cut on his responsibility and then lie makes him lower than pond scumb in my mind. Anyway, the other night the Prez warned others not to denigrate service in the Guard. Let me tell you, service in the Guard today is a far cry from what it was during Vietnam. I'm copying a column by Larry David as he talks about his experience in the military reserves during Vietnam. The guy is funny and totally on target. Those of us who were there, know. From the New York Times, [registration required, that's why I quoted the entire column].

My War
By LARRY DAVID

LOS ANGELES

I couldn't be happier that President Bush has stood up for having served in the National Guard, because I can finally put an end to all those who questioned my motives for enlisting in the Army Reserve at the height of the Vietnam War. I can't tell you how many people thought I had signed up just to avoid going to Vietnam. Nothing could be further from the truth. If anything, I was itching to go over there. I was just out of college and, let's face it, you can't buy that kind of adventure. More important, I wanted to do my part in saving that tiny country from the scourge of Communism. We had to draw the line somewhere, and if not me, then who?

But I also knew that our country was being torn asunder by opposition to the war. Who would be here to defend the homeland against civil unrest? Or what if some national emergency should arise? We needed well-trained men on the ready to deal with any situation. It began to dawn on me that perhaps my country needed me more at home than overseas. Sure, being a reservist wasn't as glamorous, but I was the one who had to look at myself in the mirror.

Even though the National Guard and Army Reserve see combat today, it rankles me that people assume it was some kind of waltz in the park back then. If only. Once a month, for an entire weekend — I'm talking eight hours Saturday and Sunday — we would meet in a dank, cold airplane hangar. The temperature in that hangar would sometimes get down to 40 degrees, and very often I had to put on long underwear, which was so restrictive I suffered from an acute vascular disorder for days afterward. Our captain was a strict disciplinarian who wouldn't think twice about not letting us wear sneakers or breaking up a poker game if he was in ill humor. Once, they took us into the woods and dropped us off with nothing but compasses and our wits. One wrong move and I could've wound up on Queens Boulevard. Fortunately, I had the presence of mind to find my way out of there and back to the hangar. Some of my buddies did not fare as well and had to call their parents to come and get them.

Then in the summer we would go away to camp for two weeks. It felt more like three. I wondered if I'd ever see my parakeet again. We slept on cots and ate in the International House of Pancakes. I learned the first night that IHOP's not the place to order fish. When the two weeks were up, I came home a changed man. I would often burst into tears for no apparent reason and suffered recurring nightmares about drowning in blueberry syrup. If I hadn't been so strapped for cash, I would've sought the aid of a psychiatrist.

In those days, reserve duty lasted for six years, which, I might add, was three times as long as service in the regular army, although to be perfectly honest, I was unable to fulfill my entire obligation because I was taking acting classes and they said I could skip my last year. I'll always be eternally grateful to the Pentagon for allowing me to pursue my dreams.

Still, after all this time, whenever I've mentioned my service in the Reserve during Vietnam, it's been met with sneers and derision. But now, thanks to President Bush, I can stand up proudly alongside him and all the other guys who guarded the home front. Finally, we no longer have to be embarrassed about our contribution during those very trying years.

Larry David, who served in the Army Reserve in the 1970's, appears in the HBO series "Curb Your Enthusiasm."

Reading Others

I just added another blogger to my roll on the right. She calls herself Viking Zen. I do not know her human name, just her virtual identity. I'm cool with that. She is Viking Zen. She's a hybrid mixture of culture and language, combining American and Brazilian, themselves both hybrids. I came across her blog one day after she was spotlighted by our host, Blogger. She's has a unique and well formed observation of things, and she's articulate enough to share them with feeling and color. Those are good things. Go visit, read her tale about the furnace, and if you're so inclined, say hello. Don't forget to tell her Houston sent you.

Anger

I ran into someone yesterday who read my blog here and said that I seemed angry. I don't think I'm exceptionally angry as a person, and it comes as a surprise to me that one would read my blog and come to that conclusion, but you know, when you're painting a picture, you have to allow that each person will have a different impression. Some will like the colors you use, and some won't. I don't think I'm especially angry, but I do get mad from time to time. I think there's plenty to be angry about in our society. However, I think I celebrate life more than I complain or rant about the inequities of it. Today I'm going to spend a few hours alone in quiet reflection, thinking about the colors I use. Today, color me curious yellow.

Making a Statement For Fashion Freedom

I was by Jennifer's History and Stuff this morning and was pointed towards this story. For the record, I have no idea who the people at Jennifer's History and Stuff are, but for some reason I put them on my list of Favorites some few weeks ago, so I stop by and visit from time to time. I thought the conversation about men wearing skirts to be interesting. I have always believed that men should have the freedom to wear skirts. If I can find a picture of me in mine, I'll come back and put it up.

Al Gore Gets in Right

I just saw a blip of Al Gore attacking Dubya for betraying our trust. That's exactly what Bush did. He told us that we were being threatened, but we were no more threatened than we had been for 11 or 12 years. He told us they had weapons of mass destruction. We believed him. He told us that there was a threat of nuclear weapons. We believed him. What he did was to play upon our fears. He lied to us. He exaggerated the threat. Was this about family honor? Was this about oil? I don't know. When you realize that your boyfriend's lying to you, the next question you ask yourself is "for how long?" I began this blog back last March in support of the President's decision to go to war. I argued with friends, family, acquaintances. What did Bush do with my trust? He allowed the extremists in his party to accuse my friends of aiding the enemy for opposing him. He allowed the extremists in his party to call my friends traitors. He also used the support he was getting for his conduct of the war against terrorism to consolidate his political position at home. He did not try to build a coalition. He attempted to brutalize any opposition to him or to his political party's extremist platform.

He was a coward during the Vietnam War. He avoided the draft for dishonorable reasons. He joined the Texas Air National Guard, after having a slot made available to him because of who is father was. If he supported the war, he should have joined rather the fight rather than dodging. His country needed him, but he was a coward.

His tax cuts have helped no one but the rich. He is breaking the economic back of the government. We are going to be saddled with so much debt that we will be unable to function as an efficient government. The Republicans are treating the government as a huge, all you can eat buffet, and they are cleaning the platters. There won't be anything left. He's so fucking stupid that he doesn't see or understand the results of what he is doing. I vote for stupid. He's not smart enough to be evil. That would be his brother, Jeb.

His political party, however, is evil. Tom DeLay would send his own mother to a concentration camp if it enhanced his political power. I love the quote about him responding to being told he couldn't smoke his cigar at a restaurant telling the poor chap trying to enforce the law that "he [Tom DeLay] was the government." That sounds real good when written in a history book.

Cheers.

Bush Meets the Press

Oh, but if he only would. Instead he's being fluffed by Tim Russert Sunday morning on NBC's Meet the Press. I don't get NBC so I guess I'll have to be satisfied with the wrapup. I don't expect much. Tim Russert is such a suck-up. His idea of a tough question is going to be "who d'ya think will win the world series this year?" There is so much shit on the table, I just don't know how Russert can't ask a couple of on point questions. The challenge to Russert is to follow up when he gets a bullshit answer. And that's the standard I'm going to hold Tim to: if he answers with a non sequitur, you better damn well ask him to explain himself.

Friday Cat Blogging

My unofficial blog block captain, Kevin Drum over at Calpundit, usually does cat blogging on Fridays, although not today for some reason. He has two cats, Inkblot and Jasmine. I have one. Or does he have me? Say hello to Beauregard:

Missing the Point

I saw Janet's titty. Oh whoopidee shit! Here's a picture of it if you're interested in seeing it for yourself. This guy is outraged. The idiots at Right Wing News (no way I'm linking to that sort of trash) think Dr. Dean is unsuited to be President because he wasn't outraged enough to condemn everyone involved. No, really, that's what they said over there. I was over there this morning to see if there was any shock at what Justin Timberlake did. He tore a woman's top in a similated act of male aggression. In their dance of sexual illusion, he responded to the dominitrix's supposed control of him by turning the tables and taking control, humiliating her by exposing her. I've seen the x-rated version of the movie already. I thought I recognized the plot. But no, cynicism ran high, and no one seem especially offended.

Am I the only one to notice that Justin Timberlake has no hips? Bless his heart. My friend Stacy was over watching the show with us. She thought Justin sounded like Michael Jackson. That's interesting, huh? If Michael had been doing the dance with Janet, no one would have noticed Janet, with or without her boob haning out.

Tim Goodman, writing in this morning's San Francisco Chronicle, totally pegs the entire story. Ah, America.

Farting and Calling it Singing



The Bush budget. I'd laugh it it didn't have such serious repercussions as a result of its distortions of truth.

Adding Comments

It's a sign of the times. Now you don't have to write to me, you can just leave your witty bon mots here without grief or effort.

Is Bush Gay?

There's this guy over at the Gay Porn Blog who writes wickedly about many diverse subjects, but mostly Gay porn. Gay porn is one of those things that most practitioners would rather not talk about. Myself included. As we used to say about Playboy magazine back in the late 60s, I only buy it for the articles. But the guy who writes over there is a very interesting person. I've met him a couple of times, but he only knows me in conjunction with someone else, so he doesn't have a clue as to who I am, and it really doesn't matter. You don't have to know someone to think they're interesting. This week he's been writing about the new to this country baseball player from Japan, Kazuhito Tadano, who apparently was in a gay-themed porno back home in Japan. Apparently in some circles that's quite extraordinary. But he finishes up with that story, and moves on to the following which is very interesting. You should draw you own conclusions. You would anyway. So, here's what we're doing: I'm quoting him quoting them. He's footnoted his comments with links. That's good enough for me. Here we go. Here's a picture of Canadian Scott. At least we now know Bush's type.


Bush prefers our pretty boy to his pretty boy
By JANE TABER
Friday, January 16, 2004 - Page A1

OTTAWA -- This is the tale of the two Scotts -- one American, the other Canadian. One is dark-haired, the other blond. Both are 35 and both work for the most powerful men in their respective countries.

Scott McClellan is the press secretary to U.S. President George W. Bush; Scott Reid is the senior strategist to Prime Minister Paul Martin.

But, according to Mr. Bush, Mr. Martin has the prettier Scott.

Indeed. Welcome to a new era of "pretty face" Canada-U.S. relations.

This is what happened:

Mr. Bush met Mr. Reid earlier this week at the summit in Monterrey, Mexico, just after the President's breakfast with Mr. Martin.

Mr. Reid was not initially in the hotel room where the two leaders and their closest advisers met, but was called in to brief the Prime Minister at the end as the group waited for the media.

Mr. Bush wandered over during Mr. Reid's chat with the Prime Minister. Mr. Reid introduced himself and shook hands with Mr. Bush.

"Well, what do you do for this guy?" the President asked as he pointed to the Prime Minister.

"Well, you know, sir, I can't really say," Mr. Reid said. "It's not that I don't want to. It's just that, you know, I don't really know from day to day."

This is true. Mr. Reid handles a number of files and performs a number of different duties, depending on the issue and the day.

The President chuckled. "Well, you got a pretty face," he told the surprised Mr. Reid. He wasn't done. "You got a pretty face," he said again. "You're a good-looking guy. Better looking than my Scott anyway."

This is true. His Scott has a receding hairline and is on the chubby side, while Mr. Martin's Scott has a full head of hair and is quite fit.

For the first time in his life, Mr. Reid had no reply. "I didn't know what to say," said Mr. Reid, noting later that he wished that Mr. Bush had referred to him as a "rugged-looking young man or something.

"But I'll take what I can, I guess," he joked. "When a Texas Republican says you've got a pretty face, then I guess there is just no way around it."

[Joe Richardson: Does any of this sound familiar?]

But wait, there's more from the Ottawa Xpress,:



January 22nd, 2004
Frontline
THE DATING GAME
Stuart Trew

The gossip pages were nearly unanimous: Paul Martin's first date with new American boyfriend George W. Bush went so well that the two are talking about seeing each other again very soon! According to the press, Bush actually paid attention to Martin's hopes, dreams and needs. But did Martin pay attention to ours?

 We heard from Martin early last week that he had "already begun to change the tone" of Canada-U.S. relations. Talking the language of relationships in everyday life, he said, "If, in fact, you know the person you are dealing with and if you have confidence with the person ... then you are going to be able to make much greater strides than if you don't."

 As it turned out, both leaders love sausage, and over breakfast talk about business and baseball at the Summit of the Americas, Bush said that although he won't promise he'll never deport another Canadian to a foreign torture chamber, Martin will be the first to know before it actually happens. Tell that to Maher Arar, or even untortured Canadians worried about the country's sovereignty.

 Martin also allegedly sweet-talked us the right to at least try and profit from Bush's occupation of Iraq, although there's no guarantee we'll land any of the reconstruction contracts. Bush said last Tuesday that Canadians "want Iraq to be free. They understand the stakes." Prior to the meeting, the U.S. idea of "the stakes" meant a world under threat from Saddam-backed terror. We didn't see it that way, and thankfully we have no more troops to send.

 "I think it went very, very well," Martin told reporters. "The vibes were very, very good on both sides." Louise Elliott, with Canadian Press, was impressed enough to note that "Bush spent close to a half-hour of private time with Martin and another 45 minutes with him at breakfast with officials from both countries - in total, half an hour more than the allotted time." Yeeouch - a cuddly favourite in the American harem.

 But as Jane Taber wrote in Friday's Globe, Bush might have his eyes on Martin's right hand man, Scott Reid. "Well, you got a pretty face," Bush told Reid, after asking him what he does for the PM. "You're a good-looking guy. Better looking than my Scott anyway," referring to presidential press secretary Scott McClellan. Maybe the prime minister should leave him at home next time.

Back to Me.
Have we discovered the real reason Andrew Sullivan is so hot to be Bush's bitch?

This is by Bruce Yurgil. He's dynamite. Visit him here. He's dynamite.

This is me:

I Used to be a Republican


No, really, I did. I was young. They had better parties. They were just a crowd and I worked them. I don't know why, but at one time they made sense to me. I used to be a Catholic in the same way. When it was a romantic idea to be Catholic, I enjoyed being there. When I found out what they believed, I was appalled! Same with Republicans. Trouble is, I have close friends from that period. Not only are my close friends Republican, but they are devout Bushies! Oh, God. I maintained with them as long as I could, but one day Leon called and started spouting that nazi shit, er-I mean, her Fox-news inspired commentary on current events, and I lost it and told her what I really thought. I mean, I told her what I really, really thought.

So now she's mad at me for having an opinion different from her own. You know, I can live with that. She and her people have been good to me. Thank you. My people and I have been good and generous to her, as well. She's welcome. But there is a history at work here, as well. My families and her families have been on opposite sides of almost every war and subwar they have ever experienced together. I was as adamant in my opposition to the war in Vietnam as she were in her support of Nixon and his lies. During the Civil War, my great-grandfather and his brother were deserters and copperheads. My Ashworth great-great grandfather avoided service to the South and named one of his boys, Ulysses. Just guess who he thought the real hero of the Civil War was? During the American Revolution, her family was rebels, my family was loyalist. Even before that, during the Regulator-Moderator fight in South Carolina after the Cherokee Wars and before the Revolution, her family was Regulator, mine outlaws and Moderators. There's a pattern here, duh?

But I'm mad at her right now because she's giving that draft dodging lowlife a free ride. I love her dearly, but she brought the skunk to the dinner table and is now mad at me for saying it stinks. Leon showed me disrespect by her original call to me, and then got mad at me when I gave you my opinion on the subject she brought up. Think about it. I would immediately call her and say whatever would be necessary to heal this breach I feel, but I can't change my mind about how stupid I think she is for not ever questioning the obvious in regards to Bush's claimed military service during Vietnam. Her failure to acknowledge that fact to my satisfaction has become a barrier between us.

And just to harden my heart, her political party has declared itself anti-Me. They want to AMEND the Constitution to permanently and forever exclude ME from full participation in the many rights inumerated within it. Her memory is short, but let me remind everyone of this fact: the Germans never did anything to the Jews that wasn't perfectly legal. They wrote the laws that made it legal to persecute Jews. Leon's people, her political party, would make my people legal targets. If you allow those people to speak in your name, you're fucking well endorsing all of their points of view. You're as evil as they are.

There. I feel better. Well. Okay, I'm going to save you the grief of banishing me from your life this time, though. I'm just going to say goodbye now. Good-bye.

Free Lunch Conservatives

I like that term. I'm starting a list: Free Lunch Conservatives; Cheap Grace; inflated salvation.
More later.

Celebrity Watching


I watched Diane Sawyer interview Jennifer Anniston last night. Yawn. On both counts. Diane Sawyer's pablum serving delivery did nothing to warm Miss Iceberg up. Nothing she could ask made Ms. Anniston sound interesting or engaged. I watched as long as I could, flipping back and forth between something on PBS that was much more interesting. Towards the end of the interview, Ms. Sawyer asks Ms. Anniston to say something about her five co-stars that they probably don't know about themselves. Ah, shucks, Diane, that's powerful stuff. And wow, what an answer Ms. Anniston gives: Why, the tin man doesn't need a heart with all that love! And scarecrow, you're the smartest person here. You just need a degree. Or in the case of Courtney Cox, why Courtney, you're absolutely beautiful with an inner beauty! Oh please, dear Jesus. What drek.

We did learn that Jennifer got mad at her mother for a book her mother wrote that Diane tells us Jennifer felt was exploitive of her fame. Jennifer didn't have to say anything, and as inarticulate as she came across, it's a good thing. I hope both she and her mother live long enough for her to get over herself and beg her mother for forgiveness. The question she should be asking, is not whether her mother made any mistakes, but whether she did the best she could given the circumstances. Ms. Anniston is now old enough to interact with her mother as an adult, and the standard of expectation is different for adults than it is for young girls whose mothers drive off their daddys.

Thanks, Diane, for an evening of vapidity, yours and hers. (houston)

Mars, my Ass

Listening to NPR this morning, I heard that Bush is going to announce a new space exploration mission this week. Why? Did they hear that there was oil there and the locals were hiding terrorists? That's about the only reason I can think of that might warrant how this administration actually spends our money. They sure don't spend it on education where they said they would. This is actually an example of how much power the White House has in setting the agenda in an election. For the next week, reporters will be asking the Democrat presidential candidates what they think of the President's plan, not what they think of space exploration. Why? Because we're all for space exploration. It's like motherhood. Who's against it? That isn't the issue. The President's vacuous, attention getting "plan" is the issue. It's not going to fly. The President knows it won't fly. Everybody for it knows it won't fly. Everybody against it knows it won't fly. So why are we even saying the word "fly"? It's just bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit! I'm sick and tired of bullshit.

We need to be talking about what's going on. There's no reason talking about where we're going if we don't know where we are. (raven)

Happy New Year!

I'm back from the holidays. If you're curious, this is what I've been up to.


Well, Britney's back in the news. Is there any better example of how marriage has been trivialized by heterosexuals? I am not a proponent of Gay marriage. I am adamant about equal treatment of Gays and Lesbians, but I have never thought we should emulate a failed institution.

The Britney Spears Phenomenon

I don't get Britney Spears. She's the one we watched grow up on videos, right? She started out as a little girl on one of the star search shows. She's done well since then. I heard she heads a $200 million empire with dozens of employees. I watched her the other night as she was interviewed by Diane Sawyer. She came across as vacuous, sensitive, nice, trailer park White version of Michael Jackson except maybe not as perverted--yet.

Yeah, but can she sing? I'm not sure that's a requirement. Consider Bob Dylan. She's interesting though. I watched for 30 minutes before my mind wandered on to more important things. After 30 minutes I didn't know any more about her music than I did when I started watching. I know that she's rich, pretty, well known and widely recognized. If she lived next door I'd like her. So, enough about me and my lack of relationship with Britney.

One of the blogs on my list to the right is Toby. He reviewed Britney's new album for his college newspaper. It's very insightful. I never realized. Toby, you are so in the zone!

A Letter from West Virginia

Not exactly a letter, but my blog cousin, Sara, over at Hillbilly Sophisticate, is my single source for commentary about Jessica Lynch, our reluctant heroine. I agree with Sara. I thought Jessica was very composed, and surprisingly well spoken for someone not used to being in the public eye and speaking a lot. Diane Sawyer has always reeked of empathy, so she would have been my choice of all of the news models with whom we are familiar.

Have we learned anything from this entire episode? Probably not, but it is a cautionary tale.

Prayers placed gently upon the wind

A long time ago when my life was in a period of extreme turmoil, I was touched by an angel. Out of nowhere, I ran into a wall of calm. It was a profound experience. I never forgot the name of the person in the center of all that calm. I've always wondered what became of him. Last week I asked the gods of Google if they knew. They did.

I think the year was 1969, maybe 70, and Ben Torrey was about 18, maybe 19, fresh from Korea where he had been living with his parents at a primitive Christian community in the mountains of central Korea. It was called Jesus Abbey. This boy man radiated empathy and calm, as yet unspoiled by the American common culture. I think I was struck dumb. I've never forgotten him nor the impact I felt from just meeting him.

It was like getting a postcard from God telling me "oh by the way, you remember that nice young man you're always praying for? Well, he's doing pretty good. Just thought you'd like to know." Of course I wrote to him in an expression of my joy at having the opportunity to know that he was doing well.

Thanks, God. Ya' know, God, he's one of your better efforts.

The Right Christians

This is my favorite new blog this week. I'll tell more when I know more about them.

Obscure Bible Passage of the Day: Jeremiah 12:1-3

You will be in the right, O Lord, when I lay charges against you; but let me put my case to you. Why does the way of the guilty prosper? Why do all who are treacherous thrive? You plant them, and they take root; they grow and bring forth fruit; you are near in their mouths yet far from their hearts. But you, O Lord, know me; You see me and test me—my heart is with you. Pull them out like sheep for the slaughter, and set them apart for the day of slaughter.(NRSV)

Comment
Jeremiah wonders whether justice will ever come.

The Week-end

The fund raiser came off without a hitch and was enjoyed by all. My gumbo was fabulous, even if I say so myself. The boudin balls were a delightful surprise to my little group of California foodies. Ain't nothing like discovering a new food to make them go nuts. The weakest link in the dinner was the crab cocktails, but no one sticks their nose up at a generous serving of crab. I made Helen Corbitt's cocktail sauce which was a nice touch. Dessert was a freezer version of keylime pie.

Friday night, however, my car died. My poor old cadillac. I was cruising down Oak Street in San Francisco and suddenly every light on the dash came on, and there are a lot of them. I was warned that the engine was overheating, my electrical system was failing and then my power steering went out. I was sure the car was doomed.

Okay, when the car died Friday night, I parked it and walked away from it. I gave the s.o.b. to the universe. I refused to go near it on Saturday (NOT that I had time, but I didn't anyway). On Sunday I went into San Francisco and checked on it. It was fine. No parking tickets, depsite the fact that it was in a location that warned that street cleaning occurred daily. I did notice that there was a lack of signs of extreme motor duress. So, I blessed it again and promised I'd be back.

On Monday morning, I checked in with it again and still no tickets. At that point in time, if the rules had been followed, I could have had as many as a dozen parking tickets. Is that a sign from God or what? I called Triple A and had it towed to a garage recommended by the tow truck driver. It was close by. They took it in, diagnosed the problem, called me within an hour with an estimate, and by 4 o'clock, had my car ready. Bear in mind, I was ready to walk away from it as a hopeless and expensive cause. I did not blow the engine, I only lost a waterpump. So, once again, I have a car. I am so happy.

Well, not entirely. Do you ever do computer dating? I'm registered with several: Yahoo Singles, Chicago Singles, Planet Out (or some such shit), and occasionally I run ads on Craigs List. I'm not always sure I'm looking for someone, but as long as I'm single, I dutifully put bait on the hook and cast the line. About the only ads I never answer are the ones who are looking for a hairy chested alpha male. I am defintely not that, and besides, that's what I'm looking for. But I love to meet people. It's like an old fisherman who talks to everyone he sees. Since we're all looking for fish, we do have something in common and something to talk about.

So I answered an ad of this real cute guy who, by his own admission likes my stories, enjoys my writing, blah, blah, blah, but feels it necessary to write to me and tell me that our "chemistry" is not right. Excuse me? What chemistry? We haven't met yet. How can one determine "chemistry"? I think he wasn't honest in his ad, and that annoys me. A lot of guys won't say that they're only interested in White men, so they write an ad that is inclusive and then they just don't respond to Blacks. Same with HIV, same with age. Oh, well. Next?

Enlightenment

Sounds kind of pretentious to say it, but it means different things to different people. How about, I had an epiphany? Well, walking to work the other morning, suddenly, a light went off in my head. Oh. And I can couch it it buddhist terms, christian terms, California-new-age-let's-all-feel-good terms, but in the language of my people, I figgered something out. I figured out how to let go of some of the struggle. A weight was lifted off of my shoulders. A close friend dismissed it by saying it was just my drugs kicking in, but that's not true. It is true that I had a third cup of coffee that morning, but it was more than that.

For the past few months, I've been less energetic than usual. OH, hell, I was seriously depressed. Wasn't nothing wrong with me as far as I could tell. I was a year older and fatter, working at a dead-end job that I'm trying to milk out another half dozen years, have lost interest in a sexual relationship of any sort, what could I possibly have to be depressed about? On top of that, I felt like I was skiing down an expert slope and I'm a beginner. Everything was going a little too fast and I felt that I was in the last turn instead of the next. There was this layer of anxiety. I didn't feel like I could pull it off. I was losing control.

Control is an illusion, anyway, right? I have no control over anything. Never had. I surrendered that illusion Tuesday morning while walking to work. With that surrender came the most peaceful feeling. I'm three days into it, and maybe it won't last out the week and I'll go back to that steep slope, but I don't think so. But even if I do, I won't be quite as afraid as I was two or three weeks ago.

Tomorrow I'm cooking gumbo for 16 people I don't know. I donated a gumbo supper/cooking demonstration to my girlfriend's choral group, the San Francisco Choral Society. Usually we sell 4 slots for about $50 each. It's a total win-win situation. I get to have nice people come over for a smart party where I get to entertain in my best Louisiana or Texas accent, show off my china and silver, regale them with tales of my life on the bayous "back home." The choral society gets a $200 cash gift, the people get a lesson in making gumbo, and we have one fun afternoon. I play cajun music, ply them wine, and real good food. This year, a couple who bought tickets, asked if they could invite their cooking club along, adding 10 to the count. That's $800 to the chorus and oh, my god, I've got a crowd coming over to eat.

I've noticed that when one is depressed that their house cleaning skills seem to be one of the first things to go. I looked around my house and thought, oh my god, I can't let people see this mess. Then I remembered Tuesday's epiphany and thought, people aren't necessarily looking at the things you're pointing to. Sometimes they're just looking at you point. You know, I think my place is charming, just as it is. Is it a mess? No, I prefer to think it has a "lived in" feeling to it. Those people are coming to taste my gumbo, not to judge my housekeeping. (I will clean the cabinets, floors and bathrooms and put out flowers, but that's it! The tub doesn't need to be scrubbed--no one's going to be taking a bath, ya' know?)

I'm cooking chicken and sausage gumbo. The reason it takes a cooking lesson to cook gumbo right, is because you can't start with a recipe and do a traditional gumbo unless someone has showed you how. Why? Because you wouldn't know if you got it right or not. It's not because it's hard to do.

My families started arriving in Louisiana in the late 1780's, about 20 years behind the Cajuns, following them into the back bayous of southwestern Louisiana. It didn't take ten years to begin seeing our names marrying theirs. We immediately became part of Louisiana's fusion of culture. I'm pretty sure my people, the Ashworths and Perkins and Clarks and Drakes and Bunches and a dozen others, reflected the Scots-Irish culture of backcountry South Carolina. Cooking was at best primitive. Meat would probably be stewed or fried. Bread would be corn pone. It is doubtful that they even had sourdough. Next to the Cajuns we were primitives. We were also Baptist and they were Catholic, but still there was intermarriage. Abner and William Ashworth, the sons of Keziah Dial and James Ashworth, married Cajun women: Abner to Rosalie Gallier, and William to Deliede Gallier. Thank god for it, too, because the cooking in our family got good, quickly.

How Stupid is Stupid?

I gotta ask this question.

Here's the set-up: there's this guy who feels a connection to bears. He's an amateur, but he's had a modicum of success in marketing his connection. I don't imagine he's a bad guy, just a little obsessed to the point of lacking a certain ability to stay rooted in reality. I mean the potential has always been there. It always is when someone successfully markets an avocation.

Okay, this guy's name is Timothy Treadwell, and according the L.A. Times. I'm going to link to the Times story, but you have to register with them in order to read it, so don't be afraid. Anyway, this dude has a reputation with the Park Service up there as not having a realistic attitude about the bears, and in their opinion, he takes too many chances. Make that took too many chances, cause, he's daid now. He was eat by a bear.

But that's not why I'm writing about stupid. By cruel irony and coincidence, we have an audio recording of his last moments. ("Chomp, chomp, chomp.") I apologize to anyone who's sensibilities I offend with this.

"...the tape begins with sounds of Treadwell screaming that he is being attacked and calling for help to Huguenard [Treadwell's companion whom we are given to believe was his girlfriend], who was apparently still inside a tent.

"It's obvious that the attack was going on before the tape was turned on," said Wilkinson, who then repeated quotes from the tapes.

"Come out here; I'm being killed out here," Treadwell said.

"Play dead!" Huguenard yelled in reply.

"That strategy is commonly used to pacify angry bears in an attack. But Treadwell told Huguenard the strategy wasn't working and she then urged him to "fight back."

"Treadwell, who never carried weapons [emphasis mine], then asked her to get a pan and to hit the bear, police said.

"At that point, the tape stops. Much of it is fuzzy or inaudible . . . .

We are left assuming that she grabbed a frying pan and went after a thousand pound grizzily. More probably? I don't know. Did she try playing dead in the tent only to have the bear rip it apart to get to her? What do you think she did? What would you have done?

But do you understand my question? How stupid is stupid?

What Do Conservatives Want for Us?

In a op-ed piece in the Wall Street Journal today, Andrew Sullivan asks If it's not a crime to be gay, why can't we get married? I don't know, Andrew, they're your friends. Be sure to tell us what the answer is.

Meanwhile, back in Texas, a Republican state senator says to one of the Democrats, "If you're going to act like Mexicans, then you're going to be treated like them." (via Eric Alterman)

Now let's talk about California's recall. So long, Gray, hello Arnold. Eric Alterman sums it up well for me. Quoting Eric, "This is a lesson to Democrats everywhere. Don’t think you can win if you ignore your base. They will ignore you back. . . . If Arnold makes politics fun and interesting again, well then, I’m all for it. And if he screws up the state horribly, well then, tough luck. You people [we] voted for him."

Maybe Robert Rosencrantz can get a break now. The Governor-elect understands that people sometimes deserve a second chance. That seems to be something that Davis never understood.

The Collapse of the Enron Presidency

Josh Marshall uses a business metaphor to examine the Bush Presidency.

The Debate

What a bunch of crap. The moderator should have been given a switch enabling him to turn off microphones. I tuned out after about ten minutes, screaming at the tv for all of them to "shut the fuck up!" Ms. Huffington both impressed me with her dogged determedness and annoyed me with her lack of manners. She didn't get my vote, though. I'm not sure what the purpose of her being there was. I think she was there because she can afford to be. She's promoting Ariana, and she's doing it well.

Big winner: Arnold Schwartzenegger. He didn't look any more stupid than everyone else there. Second place was Ariana Huffington who was offered a part in Terminator IV.

Big loser: well, there were two. Tom McClintock, who looked almost like a senior statesman in the first debate, was invisible next to Arnold. All of his common sense was drowned out by the fireworks between Arianna and Arnold. Second big loser: Ariana Huffington who came across so caustic that she won no converts and made Peter Camajo look like a reasonable candidate.

I would like Peter Camajo if he were running as a Democrat. Unfortunately for him, he is running as a Green, and I am having to take medicene on a daily basis because George W. Bush is President of these United fucking States. If Ralph Nader hadn't been such an ass, we would be living in a different world. As for the Greens, they're a sad joke of would-be hippies who fart, think it's righteous, and call it singing. I am simply not interested. The whole country is being FUCKED right now because of their Bobo self-righteousness. Screw them. Peter Camajo might sound normal were it not for his association with those people.

Okay, today's prediction. The recall fails. What a bunch of clowns we witnessed tonight. Gray Davis looked down right reasonable in comparison. Tomorrow his numbers will go up. I'm still voting no on recall and I'm voting for Garrett Greuner, just in case. If it ain't Davis, give me someone who hasn't been tainted by this shit fest.