WWJS?: Or Who Would Jesus Shoot?

You know, I just don't get it.

Now, don't get me wrong: I am not one of those anti-gun, anti-2nd-amendment, more-gun-control types who think everyone just needs more laws to keep people from murdering one another: Far from it! What I don't understand, though, is how these people who are fervent, verging-on-psychotic, right-wing nut-job Jesus followers are also the same types who would brandish sixteen pistols, seventeen shot guns, seven rifles and a war chest of ammo...

Or is it just me? Does anyone else see... well, something not quite right about this image?

Let's look at the facts: There is not a command that says "Never go to war," although the OT god was so much about war, you would of thought his commission on giving the so-called "holy land" to Israel was close to 90% (God, Jesus, and Ghost Realty, Inc.)! But when it comes to the new testament? You read things like "turn the other cheek"; "love your enemies"; "whatever you do to the least of these, you do to me." When Jesus was getting arrested to be put on trial (and eventually nailed up like an oil painting) and Peter cuts off the ear of the high priest, did Jesus cheer him on? Grab his sword and say, "I can take it from here, Petey"? He admonished his disciples and (supposedly) healed the priest: In Matthew he is reported to have said "Put your sword back into its place; for all who take the sword will perish by the sword..."; in Mark he is recorded to have said "No more of this!"

When the Pharisees got everyone in an uproar and they tried stoning him, did he start throwing rocks back? Grab a sword and go all jihad on their asses? No, he "passed through them" (became Casper, if you will) and walked away... When I read "Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord," one wonders how many of these southern baptists and what-not think, as the bible is to be taken quite literally, that guns don't count--it's the sword they need to be concerned with... (Perhaps that might explain a lack of enthusiasm for the art of fencing here in the states?)

Of course, many a Christian likes to pull the old 10 Commandments out at this point: "The Bible says 'Thou shalt not MURDER,', not 'Thou shalt not kill!' so there!" (I have to be amazed that this is still the only bit of actual Hebrew most of these right-wingers have learned...) And it's true: it is "Thou shalt not murder" if one translates it correctly. But what is murder?

There are no disclaimers about self-defense not being murder. There are no asterisks (*) nearby calling attention to a footnote that reads "Except when protecting your land, crops, wife, child(ren), goats, sheep, cows, and American-made pick-up truck." If every person--let me repeat, every person--is made in god's image, and every human has an eternal soul, and you kill that human despite the NT examples set forth by your man-god...

What makes your life more important than the robber or murderer? Sure, you can justify it til the cows come home (or at least reasonably close to home), but can you find me the disclaimer? The one that reads "if your life is in imminent danger, you are no longer committing murder, you are simply killing"?

If one looks at the entirety of the new testament, the portion of the bible we are supposedly living under, show me where violence on the part of a follower of Jesus is condoned or otherwise not frowned upon...?

And remember context: The "sword" in the new testament? Always is a metaphor--it is never once referred to as an actual physical weapon to be used by a follower of Jesus...

But that's probably only because shot guns hadn't been invented yet... And Rome must have had sword-control laws in place... So now we have to ask, who would Jesus have shot? Anyone? Anyone?

The Betty Crocker Look...

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Me: Definitely black.
Rich: Uh...
Me: Just think about it...
Rich: I am, and... The ceiling?
Me: With maple beams and recessed lighting...
Rich: It seems so--morbid.
Me: It’s not like I’m moving a coffin in!
Rich: May as well...

---

Yes, dear reader, you know the routine by now, do you not? We’re painting another room--our room, this time. Two walls have gone redwood, two walls camel tan. The hardwood floors are a golden maple, and there are two rather nice-size windows with matching golden maple trim--it’s going to be a classy mod look with a hint of rustic, if you can catch my vibe here...

---

Rich: And track lighting is so.... So...
Me: 1983?
Rich: Yeah, sounds about right.
Me: Who mentioned track lighting?
Rich: You did!
Me: Recessed lighting, not track lighting. This isn’t an art gallery, it’s a bedroom!
Rich: It’s a morgue.
Me: Yes, yes, that’s the look I’m going for. I thought it’s be a nice change from what everyone else does with their bedrooms. Very TrueBlood meets Betty Crocker.
Rich: Ha-ha, very funny.
Me: Look, does the rest of what I’ve done look good?
Rich: (Shrugs.) Yeah, it does.
Me: Okay then, have a little more faith, okay?
Rich: Seems I have no choice. I’ll pick out a suit to wear while I lay in state every night.
Me: Yes, and I’ll check your teeth for lipstick.

---

On Being a Local Celebrity of Sorts...

I was accosted in Wal-Mart today. There I was, between the pharmacy and the pet section, minding my own beeswax as I pondered over what the best way was to construct a fency-type trellis to keep my gladiolas from falling over once they bloom. (I know, to have my problems, right?) So as I'm standing there mulling over new and inventive ways to use towel racks, I feel a tap on my shoulder from behind. I turn around, ready to proclaim my "No, I don't work here" line (am I the only one in the world who gets asked by random people in Wal-Mart where things are located? I must have "a look" or something) when a couple of little old ladies say:

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Old Lady #1: You're that young man who had the yard sale last weekend, right?
Me: Um, yes, over on Rt 895, yeah?
Old Lady #2: Well, my friend here and I were having a very heated disagreement ever since we left your yard sale last week and were wondering if we could run our problem by you?
Old Lady #1: That would be nice if you could...
Me: Um, sure, I guess. A problem with something you bought from me?
Old Lady #1: Oh, no, no--
Old Lady #2: Nothing like that--
Old Lady #1: Why I wouldn't dream of returning--
Old Lady #2: It's just that--
Old Lady #1: --something I bought at a yard sale--
Old Lady #2: --when we left--
Me: (Am I in hell?)
Old Lady #1: --even if it was broken or something--
Old Lady #2: --we fought a bit and almost--
Old Lady #1: --which it wasn't, no worries--
Old Lady #2: --turned around...
Old Lady #1: --but I was thinking--
Old Lady #2: --Frita, please!
Me: (Yep, hell... In Wal-Mart... Who knew?)
Frita: --what?
Bernice: Let me handle this, all right? We were just wondering if you two gentlemen were...
Frita:Put it delicately, Bernice!
Bernice: Oh, shush. Well, are you gentlemen--together?
Me: (Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!) Uhh...
Bernice: Not that it matters--
Frita:--so cute together--
Bernice: --as my daughter is actually--
Frita: --just the way you two--
Bernice: --maybe you know her?--
Frita: --sat there, so happy together--
Bernice: --what's the name of that gay place?--
Me: (I should always know where the fire exits are, shouldn't I?)
Frita: --as I was saying to Bernice--
Bernice: --Emeralds? Rubies? No, that's a burger chain--
Frita: --I think it's so nice--
Bernice: --Diamonds! That's it! Do you go there?--
Frita: --and complimented her on her tank top--
Bernice: --that was the biggest clue, wasn't it, Frita?--
Me: Uh, well, yes, we are "a couple," ten years now...
Bernice: I told you, Frita!
Frita: Yes, yes you did...
Bernice: Well, we just wanted to tell you gentlemen good for you!
Frita: Yes, very much so!
Bernice: And in this area!
Frita: It's so sad...
Bernice: And that California thing? Shameful!
Frita: We should let him finish his shopping...
Bernice: Yes, we've bothered you enough, but, well, good for you!
Frita: You have our support!
Me: Uh, thank you, ladies. You have a nice day, now...
Bernice: So polite!
Frita: Real gentlemen...

---

So that, ladies and gentlemen, is what I imagine a celebrity must feel like. Even if it was just for a few moment... In a Wal-Mart...

Speaking of Luck....

But... No one even mentioned it! you're thinking...

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Visiting Scientist: Surely you don't believe that horseshoe will bring you good luck, do you, Professor Bohr?
Bohr: I believe no such thing, my good friend. Not at all. I am scarcely likely to believe in such foolish nonsense. However, I am told that a horseshoe will bring you good luck whether you believe in it or not! How can one argue with such logic?

---

Indeed, it's much like the "What harm does it do to believe in God?" (Ask the last group that drank the Kool-Aid...) For the record, Bohr is a Nobel Prize-winning physicist, but there he is, with a freakin' horseshoe hanging on the wall over his desk. And why? Even he isn't sure...

We humans are a generally stupid species, for all of our technological innovations and such--perhaps our one saving grace (perpetual curse?) being we are just smart enough to know how stupid we are without being quite smart enough to know how to not be so stupid. Why, for instance, do we knock on wood? Call off on Friday the 13th? Expect people to act just a tad crazier under a full moon? Worship gods? Pray to angels?

Did you know that, while wearing a seat belt has been known to save more lives in the drivers' seat of a moving vehicle, the number of pedestrians and cyclists who die increases in areas where seat-belt wearing is mandatory? Honestly! Any lives "saved" through the use of seat belts has been negated by the fact that, since the drivers feel more secure in the automobile, they in fact drive more recklessly than they had previous to being forced to wear such a safety device! But so many people believe that seat belts save lives that we thus made a law saying you must wear one, even though as a result more people will now die--just on the other side of the wheel... Gotta love the irony there.

Remember back in the 80s when we were all told that heavy rock music stars actually recorded Satan speaking backwards on their records? (How many of you just wondered what the heck a "record" was?) People by the hundreds threw out thousands of dollars worth of albums so that their children wouldn't be influenced by the evil Satanic speech coming from their record players (as if!!). Most of these songs you can now hear on any commercial-filled yet Satan-free "classic rock" or "easy listening" station.

Now, somewhere between the unreasonable panic over swine flu and the even more unreasonable panic over the thought of terrorists using a cargo container to sneak in a nuclear bomb (as if...), one wonders how the term "common sense" ever came to be coined when it's obvious so many people lack the very stuff. (Perhaps "common sense" is just one of those mythical things, like demons, gremlins, and luck dragons...? Often mentioned, never seen...?) Yet for sense to be "common" (in that, every one is supposed to have it), one has to simply observe how many buildings do NOT have a 13th floor; how many people refuse to go to work on Friday the 13th; how many actually stop and change their path to avoid going under the ladder (I actually think a painter made this one up just to prevent himself from getting nervous up there watching all those doofs go under him!). What is it about irrational and illogical beliefs that so many refuse to give them up?

Could it all actually be for shits and giggles? Somehow I doubt this...

Most people know the principle that any action causes an equal and opposite reaction. (Okay,maybe you don't, just google it and it's won't be long til you're all caught up.) We step on a loose rock and lose our balance, we quickly form quite a few beliefs:

• Falling hurts
• Loose rocks cause falling
• Loose rocks are dangerous
• Loose rocks are to be avoided whenever possible

But, before you know it, all things "loose" are suspect. Of course, this is a very logical conclusion to come to, not only because of your experience, but it's rationally sound. Loose footing = falling down = pain. It's not that hard, is it?

But then think about "Break a leg!" To wish an actor or performer "Good luck!" is to jinx them--why? Because somewhere along the way, a few to many people were wished "good luck" before their performance and proceeded bomb in front of an audience. There's no direct correlation between these spoken words of "good luck" and bombing your rendition of "Baby Got Back!" (one wonders how many contestants on American Idol have been inadvertently wished "good luck" before Simon ripped their hearts out with a toothpick). But our minds do make that correlation for no good reason. It's illogical, irrational, very unsound, and if you based your thesis for graduating on such a premise, they'd revoke your right to say anything at all about anything afterward! We silly, stupid humans do this sort of thing all the time!

How many of us know rationally that knocking on wood doesn't do anything, yet, once we say something out loud, there go our knuckles, banging out a River Dance of the fingers! We know that those random numbers we picked at 2:00 pm are just as unlikely to be winners at 8:55 pm, yet we are 90 percent more likely to be unwilling to trade our lottery ticket for another ticket of equally random, equally chance of winning numbers at 8:55 then we were at 2:00... Why? Who knows... Because we're stupid. We believe prayer actually does something... We believe standing in the rain causes a cold... We believe all sorts of crazy, stupid things...

With a little luck, here's hoping this post causes you all to stop and think before you start knuckling out the Star Spangled Banner...

As if "luck" has anything to do with it...

First Principles: Know Thyself...

We are a curious creature, are we not? I do believe we are the only ones that can actually think about ourselves while simultaneously thinking about thinking about ourselves...

But that's a philosophical dead-end... At the moment...

Oddly, most of the things that form who we are as people are locked in the recesses of our minds, the formative years in which most us (if not all of us) cannot recall nor think about or ponder on--between the merging of our genes from our biological parents to the nurturing we receive in the beginning (not to sound all biblical about it!) make us who we are, and in turn bias us toward a lot of our later actions, desires, motivations, fears, worries, and wonders. Not that these cannot change through either further outside or inner factors (a death, an injury, the continuation of "nurture" in a sense), but most of us experience a relative "freedom" from the most cruel and unusual of circumstances, allowing us to mostly remain the core human being we became at conception through young childhood. (Granted, these are my opinions and feel free to disagree, of course, but from all I've seen and read and thought over, this mostly holds true...)

Anyway, back to it: The other evening, I was out having a great evening and it was said to (and about) me, "He avoids adversity. The only adversity he's ever had was the military!" Regardless of the emotions this elicited from my mind, it did begin my mind turning and thinking: Isn't "adversity" really open to interpretation? I mean, not only is one man's adversity another man's walk in the park, so to speak, but the term itself tends to open-ended gradation, doesn't it? I mean, what is adversity? And who is to decide how much is "too little" or "too much" adversity for one person to bear? And further, is an avoidance of adversity a sign of cowardice, or a sign of intelligent avoidance? Again, it's probably in the eye of the beholder sitting in judgment of another, isn't it?

My mother is very fond of saying "God never gives anyone more than they can bear." Of course, if that were true, no one would ever go crazy or insane in traumatic times, would they? Of course, she is also fond of saying "Everything happens for a reason," as if reasons were the end-all be-all of our existence.

Or are they? One of the first things we learn as children is to ask "Why?" Why indeed! "Why is the sky blue?" "Why can't I go there?" "Why did you say that?" All in an attempt to find out where we are, and how we fit into that picture, our environment. While many a child has driven their parents up one wall and down the other with the endless queries, these are the times and the questions which form the later human being (if indeed circumstances even lend themselves for a child to ask about who it is and why it's there...!). All of which will eventually lend itself to how these young persons will react (or act) in the face of "adversity" of whichever degree presents itself (in terms of one's perceptions of adversity and its varying degrees that individual thereof holds!).

If any given person takes the time to reflect on what they do or don't find to be adverse, that is. How many persons take the time (perhaps we should ask, have the time? make the time?) to not only think about things in general, but themselves in particular? Why they feel this way about this? That way about that? A certain reaction to this person or that circumstance?

A certain general attitude?

I'm a big "believer" in you are who you think you are (scare quotes on purpose--know why?) and an even bigger "believer" in that only you can make that happen. But beyond that (and this may get a bit dodgy, I suppose) I find it even more important to let others be themselves, if you catch my meaning. To say it slightly longer and a bit clearer (I hope!), just as it is important to know yourself and hopefully to like yourself, I believe it just only slightly less important (perhaps equally as important) to let others be themselves insofar as it is not an infringement on others (or yourself). A large part of who you are is how you react and engage with others in your environment, both from within and without!

Of course, this greatly simplified philosophical excursion has smaller parts and larger ramifications (what wandering wonderings don't!) but to slightly sum up (without getting into the personal details--after all, I have to retain some type of mystery or else you'll grow bored and find someone younger!) when it comes to one's proclivities toward engaging, avoiding, embracing, or dealing with "adversity," can one really say for certain who is dealing with them and how they are fairing?

Or should we simply reserve our harshest judgments for ourselves and allow others to lead their lives in whatever manner makes them content?

Should contentment even be one of our goals in life?

Okay, this could go on forever, granted. Suffice it to say this:

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There is always a well-known solution to every human problem--neat, plausible, and wrong. --H.L. Mencken, Prejudices

---

Indeed. But the beginning of finding a solution that isn't wrong?

Know thyself.

The rest should fall into place...

Unless you find out you aren't any good at it... :D

"And in the end, should someone die?"

I awoke this morning to a note sitting on the computer desk:

---

Ja,

They can play with the guns.

Rich

---

I guess I should give some back story on this one, eh?

We took the nephews to see the new Star Trek movie last night, and between the four bags of popcorn, three sodas, and three bathroom breaks, we learned a lot as uncles taking young nephews to the movies, the first of which being "no soda!" Additionally, since Rich and I are selling things on eBay, there are various toys and such laying about the house, much to the joy of said nephews and fear of one certain uncle--after all, most of these toys are older than myself and worth a bunch of $$$...

So they were toy guns... Nonetheless, a strange note to wake up to, wouldn't you say?

When the parents of the nephew's came to collect their children, me and the sis-in-law took a tour of the yard to locate various plants to boost their flower beds back home. In the course of our travels, the neighbors... unfortunately were in full force. I swear to god, it's like they spot me and they come rushing out of the woodwork--it's HELL! Even Ann commented, "Dude, what's up with your neighbors?"

Well said, if I do say so myself... All this time I thought it was just me...

One of these hellish neighbors had the gall--no, the audacity!!!--to walk through my FLOWER BED! I nearly had a heart attack... Excuse me?! What the FUCK do you THINK you're DOING!! I wanted to scream. These people KNOW the pride I take, the care I put in, the immense work it requires to get these beds looking weed-free and blooming year-round! What the FUCK!!!

But being that I have various hang-ups of confrontation stemming from my childhood, I simply downplayed it with a simple, "You didn't step on anything, did you?" (As if that were the sole reason for my heart palpitations...)

"No, why would I do that?" came the reply.

Why the FUCK would you WALK through some one's fucking FLOWER BED!!!! "Just checking" and a friendly smile later (Where is my Grammy award, by the way?) we left her behind as we continued our circuitous route around the house. Two more neighbors later and the family was on their way to plant some great beauties in the yard while I was left contemplating how I would confront my stupid, unemployed, bored-out-of-her-mind neighbor about walking through the beds when they are just as easy to get around if one simply goes six feet to the LEFT. On the GRASS. In the fucking YARD!!!

It also crossed my mind what a shame it was that I did only have toy guns lying about the property. What is up with my neighbors indeed...

If I could afford it, a ten-foot-high privacy fence would enshroud my 3/4's of an acre. But until the blessed day when we sell this place and get a secluded neighborless piece of land on which to build my dream house...

Sometimes in the end, no one dies...

But they should...

Reflections on the City...New York City, that is...

Having traveled for just over twenty-four hours to Manhattan for a brief glimpse into what makes the Tribeca Film Festival a festival, I can easily say without a shadow of a doubt I am a country mouse.

Not that visiting the city is bad, dear reader, don't get me wrong! We had a glorious time walking the city, seeing the sites, riding the subway, eating, laughing, talking and drinking with friends new and old--but it was just enough, you know? I defer to my friends when in the city (sometimes to my own chagrin--can you say "Pink Berries"? Yech!) especially as they have been there more, seen what's good and what isn't ("Yech!" goes double for a strange concoction called "bubble tea"... Puh-blah!) and generally know their way around, and they almost never disappoint. Whether it was the Staten Island Ferry, Grand Central, the Strand, chicken on a stick... The list of things to do, see, smell, taste, touch, hear...

Except crickets. Frogs. Birds. The wind in the grass... Being in New York was... Well, it was like trying to roller derby through a herd of 250 million water buffalo all going in different directions... Slightly less hairy, slightly more dirty, but just as difficult to get used to. My friend Scott claims that unless you've lived there for more than two years, you will hate it--it's just a given, but it will grow on you. If you ask me, that's like saying the city grows on you like cancer, but that's just me I suppose.

As I sit now in my own home, having showered the grime and dust of the New York City streets from my body and mind, I listen to the wind chimes on my front porch, a slight breeze coming through the screen door, crickets singing a serenade to the stars and bats pirouetting after their prey, I can't help but to appreciate the lack of people; the absence of noise and sirens; the lack of light shining from roof tops and bridges.

But it was nice to visit. In another year, I may get the urge again! And, of course, if Scott does move there permanently, it may have to be slightly more often--after all, he's well on his way to being a great film and television writer. But until I have to once again traverse those streets and enter the bowels of the earth to ride the metal snake, I think I'll just sit here in my small slice of country side and enjoy...

All part and parcel of being a country mouse...

The Bonuses of Life...

Dear reader, I'm ecstatic! Granted, Rich would be the first one to tell you this is all too easy an emotion to elicit from me...

I've recently joined freecycle--you may have heard of it? Communities in local geographic areas join an email list, and whenever someone has something they want to get rid of--they spam everyone on the list! Brilliant! And over the last few weeks, spammed I've been, mostly with offers for baby clothing and such, but being spring time...

Yes, offers for dirt. Honestly, dirt is the first thing I've gotten from freecycle. (Go figure...) Being that freecycle has come with its fair share of vultures, it's rather hard to get anything for free, especially on freecycle. (Again, imagine that...) But be that as it may, one of my philosophies in life has almost always been "If it's free, I'll take two!" So when I was spammed with free dirt, well I simply hijacked my father's relaxing Sunday afternoon (as well as his truck) and before we knew it, we had unloaded a pick-up full of dirt into a rather rocky / sandy / jungly / stumpy / poison ivy area of the yard.

At this point, I was satisfied. Not ecstatic, but satisfied.

And then Monday came. An offer of thirteen bags of dirt in Lansford. After work, I hijacked Rich (and his car) and off we went to the hopping metropolis of Lansford (population 2) and grabbed the dirt. In the rain. In the dark. (Did I mention how thrilled Rich was with my newly found dirt-o-matic sniffer?) We made quick work of dumping this dirt on top of the old dirt and called it an evening.

Today, I go out with a rake to level out some of the dirt, remove some of the rocks, and...

Is that...? I dig a bit, shuffle some stuff...

It is!! Hosta's! A shitload of hostas! A smattering of daffodils, a little bit of snow on the mountain...

But hostas!! Bonus!!!! NOW I was ecstatic... Hosta heaven, freecycled into my yard with the dirt... (Oh, have I mentioned how Richard told me just two weeks ago he didn't understand my love of hosta's? He thinks they look "weedy"...)

I just spent the last few hours re-"weeding" my flower beds....

Simply ecstatic about the bonuses of life...

Where Time Stand Still...

Don't get the wrong idea, dear reader... Time standing still isn't anything that happens around here--in fact, time flies just a bit too quickly for this country boy wanna-be. Has it really been that long since my last post? So many things have drifted through my mind the last few days (okay, okay, weeks!), the least of which is "Why does a giant hafta have a companion ox who's not only named Babe but has to be blue?" Such are the drifting ruminations when the mind has time to wander. Included among these were passing glimpses into the strange mind of Jason that I felt needed to written about (although the time to do so never seemed to materialize) are

• Who decided "clockwise" was the correct direction for things to spin?
• Doesn't Tony Perkins ever get tired of lying about the so-called "gay agenda"? (I'm assuming he must not be a fan of top ten lists...)
• Why must you say every single M. Night Shyamalan movie title in a Haley Joel Osment whisper?
• Why would anyone--anyone--think that stretch pants look good on them?

Hmm... Perhaps some of these things are best left unexplored, yeah?

So, as I'm enjoying the first beautiful Saturday of the spring building the brick pathway on the right (the left hopefully to be done on the next beautiful spring Saturday...) contemplating the fact that on Friday we laid off four workers due to losing our second-biggest client on Monday, the bane of my existence (aka Luthor from across the street) decides he's going to yap my ear off for three hours... THREE MISERABLE HOURS!!! I'm all for lonely old men getting out of their homes every now and then to see what they're missing in life, but not on my time... But I deal with it, grunt an acknowledgement of his existence on this planet every now and again as I saw timber, lay sand and brick, measure distances and do higher math (aka anything more than two plus two...) to get things right and accurate until...

---

Man: Hi there!
Luthor: I'll see you later Jason. I haven't had breakfast yet.
Me: But it's 1:30 in the afternoon! What--? Oh...
Man: Is that your grandfather? I'd like to speak to him as well.
Me: No, and if you do find out we're related somehow, pull the plug. Who're you?
Man: Hi, I'm Stan, and I'm a member of the church just up the street, you may have heard of us? Din--
Me: Hi, Stan. Say, listen, can I ask you something?
Stan: Uh... Sure?
Me: Do people walk up to you when you're dirty, laying a brick sidewalk, listening to old men yammer endlessly?
Stan: Uh--
Me: Do I come knocking on your door to tell you the wonderful time my life is because I enter a building once a week?
Stan: I, uh....
Me: Do I look like I'm in any position to quit where I am on this project just so you can ask me if I've found the love of Jesus or some such other nonsense?
Stan: (extremely distressed look) Well, I...
Me: Fine, you don't waste my time, I won't waste any more of yours. Have a nice day.
Stan: But--
Me: I said have a nice day, Stan, now please go on about your business while not being on my property, okay?

---

Yes, I'm sure I took away his happy thought. In fact, I guarantee it! While I did happen to appreciate the irony of the bane of my existence being scared off by the less annoying bane of existence, really--would you walk up to someone who looked very busy, annoyed as hell at his "grandfather" (shudder shudder) while he's holding bricks, and expect him to listen to your spiel about fairy godfathers and such?

Hmm... Well, maybe you would. But I'm sick of wasting my happy garden time for yappy neighbors and holy rollers (believe it or not, Luthor's term!!). Luthor, of course, later came back to tell me that he was actually a "very nice" holy roller "for a Lutheran," but apparently didn't know "we were Baptists."

While my "baptist" status in the neighborhood came as a bit of a shock ("Who is 'we'?" I asked. "You know, real Christians, not these holy rollers!" was his reply), I asked how it was possible a man named Luthor wasn't a Lutheran? (He didn't get it--84 and addle brained!!) Thankfully, his "breakfast" was on the stove and he needed to get back. He just wanted me to know how nice the young man was...

Yeah I thought, he and his big blue ox...

At least the right half got done... Something tells me it'll be a while before I get around to the left, especially if the rest of this year follows today's pattern...

A Turning of the Tide? orThe Calm Before the Storm?

In just the last two weeks, the number of states with legal same-sex marriage has doubled. (I'm still not sure if that's sad or amazing.) The first was Iowa which, just last week, ruled that denying marriage to same-sex couples was unconstitutional. I think I speak for most East Coasters when I say I almost fell off my chair... Iowa? Seriously? A mid-west state has just legalized same-sex marriage? Let's face it, the mid-west bread-basket portion of our country gets the short end of the stick when it comes to social policy. Not only has the so-called "Family Research Council" been in over-drive, slamming my in-box full of emails exhorting me to "speak up" for marriage since it's "in the cross hairs" (because everyone knows you ruin more marriages with gays than guns...). But even after I got up off the floor and back into my office chair, it seemed just moments later when the legislators of Vermont voted to override their governor's veto and pass a bill for same-sex marriage (I'm sure we all feel bad for Tony Perkin's not being able to use the "activist judges" phrase in this case...)

When I pried my head out from the ceiling tiles and dropped back down to the floor, it hit me fully: Two states in less than seven days! Then another email came in: Washington D.C. had voted to recognize same-sex marriages performed in other states...

The nation's capitol city... Will recognize same-sex marriages...

I do believe I passed out...

There are now four states in which same sex marriage is currently legal (five states in which same-sex marriages have been performed--I think at this point California can suck it!): Connecticut, Vermont, Massachusetts, and Iowa. There are now four more states considering bills to legalize same-sex marriage: New Hampshire, Maine, New York and New Jersey. There are even more states (and districts [D.C.]) that will recognize those relationships even if they won't perform those marriages: Rhode Island, New York, and New Mexico!

I'm still flabbergasted that the East Coast is demolishing the West Coast in terms of equality--not to mention Iowa representing for the bread basket! (What is UP with THAT?!) And when you look at the world view? Sweden just became the fifth European nation to allow same-sex marriage, following the Netherlands, Norway, Belgium and Spain! And who could forget our neighbor to the north Canada! Add South Africa and Nepal--the tide does seem to be turning indeed!

But then I read Ryan's Blog where he talked about gays in Iraq. After some research I found the following map (clicking on map will open it in a larger window...):


Homosexuality legal

██ Same-sex marriage recognized

██ Other type of partnership (or unregistered cohabitation) recognized

██ No recognition of same-sex couples

██ Foreign same-sex marriages recognized

Homosexuality illegal

██ Minimal penalty

██ Large penalty

██ Life in prison

██ Death penalty

Does anyone notice anything disturbing? Places where religion have a stronghold on a nation's laws and policies have a very disturbing record when it comes to equal rights for same-sex couples... Conservative Christians in the United States, Fundamentalist Muslims in the Middle East, the combination of both in various parts of Africa, not to mention the socialist and communist areas of the map--more and more the "defenders" of "traditional marriage" are seen side-by-side with very strange bed fellows! Russia, China, Islamic countries, and the conservative Christians of the United States united together in preventing same-sex couples from entering into life-long, committed relationships so that they can care for one another in the same way heterosexual couples take for granted--truly a "godly plan" if I ever saw one... It's quite scary that the only difference between the fundies over here and the fundies over there is that I can no longer be put to death simply for existing... Sparse comfort, but comfort nonetheless I suppose...

But I remain hopeful (if only because the "depths of despair" isn't nearly as cozy as the highs of anticipation...). I can't help but to believe in my fellow human beings, for I truly believe that everyone, even when they make the greatest mistakes and commit the most awful atrocities, are almost always sincerely trying to do the right thing, no matter how misguided or mistaken.I can't help but think that the ignorant fear and misguided "defenders" will realize the error futility mistakes they are making with their current decision-making processes. As if what two consenting adults do with one another is more important than the millions starving around the world. As if two penis's in one bedroom were more important than thousands dying from inadequate health care.

I can't help but to believe that, in the end, before I breathe my last breath, before I leave this Earth for eternity, I will be able to declare my love in front of my friends and loved ones, to be able to care for him as he grows older, to not have to worry that our dying days will be filled with angst and worry over money instead of spending our last days sharing in one another's company, cherishing our time, sharing our love...

Dear America--dear world!--I have faith that eventually, you will all realize what a mistake you have made in fighting against equality. That you will come to terms with your irrational fears and conquer them with the reason you possess. That you will finally recognize your fellow man and woman for the individuals they are--just like you, with the same hopes and dreams you have, with the same expectations from life, family, and friends you have. To be loved, accepted, deserving of respect, and treated equally in the eyes of the law and in the depths of the heart.

I have faith in you, my fellow human being--can't you have the same in me?

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Sources for this post:

• Chicago Tribune
• National Public Radio
• Wikipedia