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.
Sunday, March 14, 2004
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.
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.
Friday, March 12, 2004
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.
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.]
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.
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.
Thursday, March 11, 2004
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.
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." ]
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." ]
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
"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.
"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.
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
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.
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.
Monday, March 08, 2004
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
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.]
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.]
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
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.
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.
Monday, March 01, 2004
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.
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.
Sunday, February 29, 2004
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.
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.
Friday, February 27, 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.
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.
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
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.
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.
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
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.
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.
Monday, February 23, 2004
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.
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.
Saturday, February 21, 2004
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.
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.