Rod Dreher, who thinks that same-sex marriage will destroy not only marriage itself, but civilization, posts today in an article titled, Newsom & Truth About Gay Marriage that…
Chai Feldblum, a Georgetown law professor, lesbian and pro-gay marriage activist, writes in the new book "Same Sex Marriage and Religious Liberty: Emerging Conflicts", that there is an irreconcilable conflict between civil marriage rights for gays and religious liberty for traditionalists. "[G]ay rights leaders are trying to deal with the conflict by simply wishing it away. That is neither possible nor intellectually honest."
And what is the nature of this conflict? Well…one commenter on Dreher’s blog sums it up thusly…
We have been over this ground hundreds of times, as Rod has pointed out. Why should the government care if Kate and Angela want to throw a party to celebrate their alternative lifestyle, which has nothing whatsoever to do with marriage?
But forcing my children to witness the lie that the relationship of two lesbians or two gay men (or three or four or twelve people of assorted genders) is *exactly the same* as the relationship of two people of opposite genders who not only can produce their own biological children but are expected to be completely responsible for them for eighteen years or so is an affront to my civil liberties, not just my religious ones.
Heaven forfend that he should be Forced to witness anything that contradicts his religion. I suppose he’s all for outlawing Jewish holidays too. But let it be said…he has given it a lot of thought…
The only way gay marriage and heterosexual marriage can be truly equal is if we require the sterilization of all heterosexual couples before they can marry. Otherwise, we’re creating a fiction that these two totally and radically different types of relationships, one of which has an overwhelming tendency to produce new citizens and the other of which has an overwhelming tendency not to–and *can never* do so in the same way, e.g., where each partner is equally the biological parent of each child–are exactly the same.
And if that’s not enough…
Since "marriage" as a civic concept has already been made completely meaningless by the advent of gay "marriage," and will only become more so as time goes on, I have a modest proposal: abolish it. End it altogether. Make "marriage" as important a secular concept as baptism and confirmation are–that is, not at all.
…
So, legally speaking, we’ll all be glorified cohabitators
Which is where I foolishly decide to jump into the discussion. Here’s my comment, being held for moderation last I looked…
Since "marriage" as a civic concept has already been made completely meaningless by the advent of gay "marriage," and will only become more so as time goes on, I have a modest proposal: abolish it. End it altogether.
That’s probably coming, but it won’t be same-sex marriage that makes it happen. When marriage in the United States becomes the moral equivalent of a whites only or gentiles only country club, heterosexual couples, good decent heterosexual couples, the very sort you really want to keep bought into it, are going to start abandoning it.
Not many certainly…not at first. But it’s already starting to happen. Opposite-sex couples are resorting to other forms of "civil union" or contracts or what-have-you more and more these days. Some think marriage is "old fashioned." Some dispute its relevance to couples in this day and age. Do you really think putting that Heterosexuals Only notice on the marriage license is going to change people’s minds about that? No…I don’t think you do.
How many couples with gay family and neighbors and friends are going to sign that document? Probably many, even so. But fewer and fewer, as people, good people, decent people, at long last get sick to death of watching loving, devoted same sex couples fighting constantly for rights they themselves can take for granted. You may not appreciate how the feeling of being privileged can make some people feel ashamed. Try.
So in addition to heterosexuals getting drive-in married and drive-in divorced, Plus all the heterosexual couples who just live together because they couldn’t care less about marriage to begin with, now you’ve got committed couples opting out of marriage because they don’t want their union, their mutual love, their devotion to each other and their kids, tainted by prejudice. And so that special place of honor marriage has in society, that I keep hearing folks babbling about in the same breath as "love the sinner…" just sails off, off into the sunset along with things like antisemitic homeowner covenants. Good job folks. Mission Accomplished.
It’s been well said that homosexuals can’t possibly do nearly the damage to the institution of marriage that heterosexuals already have. Orson Scott Card, who thinks homosexuality is a threat to the survival of the human race, said so in a recent column of his. Call it a testament to its power, and its essential truth, that marriage in the U.S. hasn’t been utterly finished off by now. A lot of big guns have been aimed at it over the course of my lifetime alone, and yet it still stands. But the righteous aren’t through with it either.
If the religious right finally convinces the rest of America that they can and will block same-sex couples from achieving marriage equality for generations, if ever, what will almost certainly happen is a faster movement away from marriage and toward other forms of coupling. Co-habitation is already a fact of life for a lot of young opposite-sex couples. Turning marriage into an instrument of discrimination is hardly going to change that. It’s just going to make decent people feel uncomfortable with the whole thing. Call it a win for the sexual radicals, with an assist by the sexual theocrats.
Mark Weigel reads a note from the kook pews, and takes it apart…line by line…
Another question yet to be resolved is whether Mr. Obama is a natural born citizen of the United States, a prerequisite pursuant to the U.S. Constitution. There is evidence Mr. Obama was born in Kenya rather than, as he claims, Hawaii.
What evidence? We have a newspaper announcement of Obama’s birth in Hawai’i from 1961, and we have a Hawai’ian certificate of live birth. Obama did have Kenyan citizenship until he turned 21; as the son of Barack Obama, Sr, it was automatic. And it did not negate his American citizenship.
There is also a registration document for a school in Indonesia where the would-be president studied for four years, on which he was identified not only as a Muslim but as an Indonesian.
Here’s the document. It does identify Obama as a Muslim and identifies Indonesia as his "nation of citizenship," but that’s what his parents wrote down on their seven-year old son’s school form. If Gaffney thinks this negates Obama’s American citizenship, he doesn’t understand the law.
If correct, the latter could give rise to another potential problem with respect to his eligibility to be president.
Completely false. The document lists Honolulu as Obama’s "place and date of birth."
Curiously, Mr. Obama has, to date, failed to provide an authentic birth certificate which could clear up the matter.
False. I’ll link it again. Unless Gaffney believes that the state of Hawai’i is forging documents for Obama, this is proof that he was born in Honolulu.
This is fever swamp, Vince Foster-was-murdered, Bush-blew-up-the-WTC stuff…
Yes…isn’t it. Oh…but look…it isn’t some babbling nutcase churning this stuff out from his parent’s basement…
Neoconservative pundit Frank Gaffney, former deputy assistant secretary of Defense, has bid adieu to polite society with this column on "the Jihadist vote."
Let me repeat that: Former Deputy Assistant Secretary Of Defense. These are the folks who have been running the country for the past, oh, Eight Years. The debacles that are Iraq, Katrina and the national economy starting to make sense now? Here…let me explain something to you… No…Wait… Let Them explain something to you…
In the summer of 2002, after I had written an article in Esquire that the White House didn’t like about Bush’s former communications director, Karen Hughes, I had a meeting with a senior adviser to Bush. He expressed the White House’s displeasure, and then he told me something that at the time I didn’t fully comprehend — but which I now believe gets to the very heart of the Bush presidency.
The aide said that guys like me were ”in what we call the reality-based community,” which he defined as people who ”believe that solutions emerge from your judicious study of discernible reality.” I nodded and murmured something about enlightenment principles and empiricism. He cut me off. ”That’s not the way the world really works anymore,” he continued. ”We’re an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And while you’re studying that reality — judiciously, as you will — we’ll act again, creating other new realities, which you can study too, and that’s how things will sort out. We’re history’s actors . . . and you, all of you, will be left to just study what we do.”
This isn’t just the heart of the Bush presidency…it’s the heart of the republican grassroots. ”That’s not the way the world really works anymore”… Actually…yes it is…
Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. They are not entitled to their own facts. Lies have consequences. The erosion of trust has consequences. You can’t just keep on making things up and expect nothing to come of it… When stocks become worthless, markets fail. When the word of the people becomes worthless, democracy fails.
UPDATE: Later in the column Gaffney cites Pennsylvania attorney Philip Berg, who’s filed a frivolous lawsuit against Obama on this citizenship conspiracy theory. That would be this Philip Berg.
Now, it is time for world leaders to take the lesson learned from Iraq and issue a warrant for the arrest of George W. Bush and Richard Cheney; arrest them; take them to a neutral country; try them for the murder of over 2,800 people from more than 80 countries on 9/11/01 and, when found guilty, sentence them appropriately. Jurisdiction would be proper in any of the more than 80 countries whose citizens were murdered on 9/11.
I compared Gaffney’s nonsense to 9/11 trutherism for a reason.
UPDATE II: This is pathetic: a Toledo station runs a "local hero"-type story on Berg, which puts legal documents from Hawai’i on equal footing with his fact-free claims. It’s mind-boggling. On the one hand you have a government certificate that says Obama was born at 7:24 p.m. on 8/4/61 in Honolulu. On the other you have Berg’s claim, from his lawsuit:
Obama’s grandmother on his father’s side, his half-brother and half-sister all claim Obama was born not in Hawaii but in Kenya. Reports reflect that Obama’s mother traveled to Kenya during her pregnancy; however, she was prevented from boarding a flight from Kenya to Hawaii at her late stage of pregnancy (which, apparently, was a normal restriction, to avoid births during a flight).
Notice the distinct lack of quotes and sources? It’s because the "Obama’s African family members claim he was born in Kenya" story is an internet myth. They have never claimed that. There is no such story. Go ahead and try to find it.
An internet myth. Note that. It’s what the grassroots are saying. To each other. Among other things. Over and over. Obama is a Muslim. Obama has ties to al Qaeda. Obama is a traitor. Obama is a terrorist. So it is, that the republican grassroots take their collective consciences around behind the barn and shoot it. Anything to win, even if it means taking a running bellyflop into the gutter. But it’s not just Obama they are hurling bullshit shit at. They are taking a dump on the very flags that they are busy waving.
It’s one thing to oppose the other party’s candidate on the basis of their record. It’s one thing to oppose them on the basis of their beliefs. It’s one thing to oppose them just because you don’t like their looks, the cut of their clothes, or because the sky is blue. Fine. It’s your right. But when you spread lies you are not opposing the man. You are hating on democracy. You are giving it the middle finger. A democracy is the sum of its citizens. Corrupt yourself, and you corrupt your country. It’s one thing for the politican on your TV screen to do it, it’s one thing for the talk radio host you tune into every day to do it, but when You lie to your neighbor for political gain, you are shitting on America.
This precious democracy we all share, that was bestowed us with the blood and treasure of so many of our forebears, asks only that you treat its core value, the election, with care and attention, and give to it whatever honest consideration you can, to the best of your ability. We all make mistakes sometimes in the ballot booth. Some votes we cast we long live to regret. But the important thing is we try and are honest. With ourselves. With our neighbors. Disagree we may. Vehemently. Fine. So long as it’s honest. That is what so many good people in so many generations past have died for, so that we could do. Speak freely and honestly to each other. Persuasively. Bluntly. Calmly. Angrily. Whatever. But honestly. Because you can. Because people died to give you that freedom. That’s all American is obliging you to do every election year. Instead, you are feeding it poison.
America is dying from that poison. I hear you speak of your patriotism, your love of flag and country. Over and over again I hear it. I see you wave the flag. I see it on your front doors. I see it on your bumpers. I see you wearing it on your lapels. Fine. Swell. Whatever. You love America? Then Stop Lying. Stop. Your motherfucking lies are killing it.
[Update…] Here’s a link to Factcheck.org on Obama’s birth certificate, since the one Weigel linked to isn’t enough for the kook pews. As if…anything could be…actually… I’m sure they have a way of explaining away this too…
In fact, the conspiracy would need to be even deeper than our colleagues realized. In late July, a researcher looking to dig up dirt on Obama instead found a birth announcement that had been published in the Honolulu Advertiser on Sunday, Aug. 13, 1961…
Dig it. They went looking through the newspaper archives and found the birth announcement. Of course…it’s all part of the consperacy you see…
Tech columnist Robert X. Cringely once wrote that "If the automobile had followed the same development cycle as the computer, a Rolls-Royce would today cost $100, get one million miles to the gallon, and explode once a year, killing everyone inside." I don’t know about costing one hundred dollars, but the explode once a year killing everyone inside part is on the way…
Authorities have blamed a faulty onboard computer system for last week’s mid-flight incident on a Qantas flight to Perth.
The Australian Transport Safety Bureau (ATSB) said incorrect information from the faulty computer triggered a series of alarms and then prompted the Airbus A330’s flight control computers to put the jet into a 197-metre nosedive.
At least 51 passengers and crew were hurt, many suffering broken bones and spinal injuries, when the plane carrying 313 people from Singapore to Perth climbed suddenly before plunging downwards on October 7.
The plane was cruising at 37,000 feet when a fault in the air data inertial reference system caused the autopilot to disconnect.
But even with the autopilot off, the plane’s flight control computers still command key controls in order to protect the jet from dangerous conditions, such as stalling, the ATSB said.
"About two minutes after the initial fault, (the air data inertial reference unit) generated very high, random and incorrect values for the aircraft’s angle of attack," the ATSB said in a statement.
"These very high, random and incorrect values of the angle attack led to the flight control computers commanding a nose-down aircraft movement, which resulted in the aircraft pitching down to a maximum of about 8.5 degrees."
The pilots quickly regained control of the jet, issued a mayday emergency call and requested an emergency landing at the Learmonth air force base in remote Western Australia where passengers received medical treatment.
"The crew’s timely response led to the recovery of the aircraft trajectory within seconds. During the recovery the maximum altitude loss was 650 foot," the ATSB said.
The plane’s French-based manufacturer has issued an advisory on the problem and will also issue special operational engineering bulletins to airlines that fly A330s and A340s fitted with the same air data computer, the ATSB said.
Oh…your aircraft needs our $230,000.00 per seat service upgrade patch 3b_06-A…
Like that Airbus, my Mercedes-Benz is fly by wire. Seriously. There is no direct linkage between the accelerator pedal and the engine. I push down on the pedal and the onboard computer decides what to do, depending on how fast I’m already going, what gear I’m in, whether I’m driving up or down an incline, the road conditions as judged by the traction control system and I’m sure a zillion other variables it’s evaluating from one instant to the next.
The gear shifter is also more of an electronic control then a direct linkage, although it will lock the transmission in Park. I can press a button next to it to choose between two pre-programmed automatic shifting patterns, "Sport" and "Comfort". And it learns your driving habits and adjusts the pre-programmed shift patterns accordingly. There is a fairly complex set of steps you have to perform to reset the transmission program back to the factory default if you don’t like how its adjusted itself to the way you drive.
Mostly, while driving Traveler, I don’t really notice any of this. The car responds to me very sure and certain. I was driving in a sudden torrent of rain several weeks ago and never, Never have I felt so confident in the car I was driving, so solid and sure was the feel I had for the road while the skies had opened up all around me. I could barely see more then a few feet in any direction at times and the traffic was slowing to a crawl, but the car felt absolutely tight and sure. I never felt the slightest bit of skittishness or uncertainty in the car. The Mercedes was just There.
It’s easy to forget driving that car, that I am not nearly as much in control of it as I was my 1973 Ford Pinto. It just feels like I have more control. It’s a way better engineered automobile. It is much more a driver’s car then anything I have ever owned. But there is a computer, that’s trying to be as invisible as possible, between me and the car. This technology has been working its way into modern automobiles for quite some time now. You may already be driving a car with an adaptive transmission. Fly-by-wire is in the new 2008 Accords, so I was told when I went shopping last year. It’s probably in a lot of other cars by now too. The new hybrids would pretty much have to be fly-by-wire.
It’s nothing to be afraid of, so much as Aware of. All technology can fail. It’s just that computer technology is scary because it works invisibly. You can see the failure mode of an engine. You can take it apart and look at it and see where it broke and reconstruct the sequence of events from all the broken pieces. Software is like a ghost in the machine, running spirit-like inside hardware with no moving parts, just a lot of silent, miniature black monoliths on a green circuit board. When a program crashes, it vanishes like the soul from a corpse. You may know the instructions it was executing at the time it crashed, but it’s unlikely you’ll still have access to the state the system was in just prior to the crash. You have to debug it with whatever state it was left in After the crash…assuming you can get that out of it…and whatever other traces of itself it left behind before it died. It may take days or weeks or months to figure out what it was doing in those final moments, and why the fuck it was doing it.
This is why most cars these days have "black boxes" in them…just like airplanes. For those cases when…you know…the whole thing just blows up…
Hi, just wondering when your next installment of A coming out story will hit the gay comic list
Gulp…
Hi ***…
I’m so embarrassed about this one taking so long. Every night I see people all over the world pinging that page to see if there is a new episode up and I just cringe.
It’s in pencils stage now, and the work is slow for somewhat personal reasons. I don’t want to give away too much of what happens in the story, but basically the object of my affections in the story vanished from my life, quite suddenly, after high school. I started doing the cartoon, in part, to get something of that part of my life, that I’d never been able to put to rest since, out of me. Then after decades of searching, I actually found him. We’ve been chatting off and on ever since and it’s churned up a lot of old feelings I thought I’d laid to rest.
So it’s been a bit of a struggle to keep going with this…but keep going I will. I just need to get back into the groove of it again. I have it all plotted out…I just need to get on with it.
Thank you for asking. I really appreciate the interest people are taking in that story. If you like, I can put you on a mail list I have to notify people when a new episode is out. I am going to try really hard to get the next one finished by the end of this month at the latest.
-Bruce
I really need to just get on with it… Especially now…
October 11, 2008: The catering is all in line, and the outfits perfectly pressed. The months of planning have trickled down to hours. Andrew and I are holding our Manhattan engagement party, step one in our bicoastal wedding celebration.
October 11, 1995: I watch every word that comes out of my mouth for fear that my less-than-masculine speech patterns will lay bear the truth that is and has always been within my head. It’s unfair to date members of the opposite-sex, both for me and my partners in faux courtship. But what choice do I have? There are no gay people in my high school. Heck, are there gay people in my town? In all of Tennessee? The entire Southeastern region?
October 11, 2008: Andrew, the planner of our duo, has the day mapped out. Shave, manicure, and haircut are all booked into specific slots. I, on the other hand, am taking a fairly laxidasical approach to getting my stuff done. But while our approaches are different, our excitement is the same. We are both excited and shocked that this long overdue journey is finally in motion.
October 11, 1995: I’ll probably marry someday. I don’t feel like I have a choice. You get through school then ya get hitched. And hey, at least when I marry, I will finally prove to everyone that I am straight. I’m sure that in time, I too will believe it. Right?
October 11, 2008: The Connecticut ruling makes three states where we gays can legally marry.
October 11, 1995: It’s not like I can legally marry a dude even if I wanted to.
October 11, 2008: It’s not even noon, and there have already been two phone calls from my mom-in-law-to-be. She just might be the most psyched of all of us! And why shouldn’t she be? Her baby is finally getting married!!
October 11, 1995: Did anyone see me looking at that issue of "Entertainment Weekly"? The one with the cover story on "The Gay 90’s"? And if so, did they suspect anything? ::sigh:: I better go watch the game and talk about "hot" girls.
October 11, 2008: 115 guests will be on hand to send well wishes to the two fiancés. Acceptance or "tolerance" is not even up for debate. We are loved. We are accepted. Non-"controversially."
October 11, 1995: Will I ever feel love? Real love? A genuine, rock you to the core love?
October 11, 2008: Today is National Coming Out Day. And while the booking was purely coincidental, the resonance of the date is not lost on me.
October 11, 1995: I just learned that today is apparently something called "National Coming Out Day." I gotta remember to put my guard up extra high, since people will probably be talking about it. Questions are dangerous. And the "right" answers are hard to find since they really don’t jibe with what I know to be true.
October 11, 2008: I’m happy. Really frickin’ happy. I want to wish a joyous National Coming Out Day to everyone:
October 11, 1995: I’m scared. Really frickin’ scared. Please tell me it gets better than this. Please tell me there is peace to be had. Please tell me I will come out of this darkness.
Some photos Here. I’m so happy for both of them. I wish them all the best. This poor angry world needs so much more of this. So very much more.
If you donate between now and election day online (for any amount), and send me your confirmation email, I will draw, if you wish, an editorial cartoon on the topic of your choice. Or…alternately…a Mark and Josh cartoon on the topic of your choice. Or…if my cartoons don’t do it for you…you can have a signed 11 by 19 print of the image of your choice out of any of my photo galleries.
By All Means, Let Me Know How You Feel. I WANT To Know. Really.
There are many reason why I do not regard myself as a Christian anymore. Probably chief among them is I am no longer convinced that God even exists. But even so, fundamentalism notwithstanding, I think you can still regard yourself as a Christian nonetheless. If you think God worship is all there is to Jesus’ message, then you weren’t listening.
Forgiveness. Here is why I just can’t call myself Christian anymore:
Over at Box Turtle Bulletin, Jim Burroway posts that he received a phone call from a reporter saying that many proposition 102 (the Arizona anti same-sex marriage amendment) yard signs are being damaged.
I got a phone call last night from a reporter from Phoenix’s ABC15, telling me that a spokesperson for the ’Yes” side for Prop 102 says that more than a hundred of their campaign signs were vandalized. Obviously, everyone here at No on Prop 102 condemns such vandalism. While we are happy to engage in a vigorous debate on the issues, vandalism has no place in rational debate.
Oh…good grief. Look…if some people are willing to spread the open sewer that is their conscience out on their lawns for everyone in the world to see, then by all means leave the fucking things alone. Seriously. Leave them alone.
Photograph them. Document it. We are living through a moment in history, however these votes turn out. Document it. Document it. Document it. And later, if the thing passes, should these fine God fearing folks feel the need to pretend that they never supported it (and they will, many of them, never doubt it), remember how you felt seeing those signs waved in your face, remember how it felt to have your ring finger cut off while they praised God, and wave their signs right back in their faces. Yes…yes you did…
If you stick a knife nine inches into my back and pull it out three inches,
that is not progress. Even if you pull it all the way out, that is not progress.
Progress is healing the wound… -Malcolm X
It’s good to know the names on that knife in your heart.
Jesus would say that I have to forgive. I can appreciate how anger can turn into hate. I can appreciate how it can corrode your soul, turn it to rust. There is a reason why we have to forgive. Jesus was right. But there are some things I simply cannot forgive. Just…can’t. Ironically my Baptist grandmother was exactly like me in this regard. Neither one of us could let go of a grudge. It’s a dangerous combination I’ve lived with all my life: dad’s loaded gun temper, grandma’s ability to hold onto a grudge forever. If I didn’t have some small smidgen of mom’s endless capacity for love and sympathy I’d be some kind of absolutely legendary asshole. I have grudges from back in elementary school I still take out and polish every now and then.
Instead of loving your enemies, treat your friends a little better. -Edgar Watson Howe
Forgiveness. Hopefully after November gay couples in California will still have their ring fingers, and those in Arizona and Florida will still have hope. But if not, don’t ask me to forgive. Ever. I’ll laugh in your face.
You could say these are hard times to be gay, let alone have a conscience, and be a Catholic Priest. But then…you could say these are hard times to be gay and be sitting (or standing) in a lot of churches…
A week ago, Father Geoffrey Farrow stood before his Roman Catholic parishioners in Fresno and delivered a sermon that placed him squarely at odds with his church over gay marriage.
With Proposition 8 on the November ballot, and his own bishop urging Central Valley priests to support its definition of traditional marriage, Farrow told congregants he felt obligated to break "a numbing silence" about church prejudice against homosexuals.
"How is marriage protected by intimidating gay and lesbian people into loveless and lonely lives?" he asked parishioners of the St. Paul Newman Center. "I am morally compelled to vote no on Proposition 8."
Then Farrow — who had revealed that he was gay during a television interview immediately before Mass — added a coda to his sermon.
"I know these words of truth will cost me dearly," he said. "But to withhold them . . . I would become an accomplice to a moral evil that strips gay and lesbian people not only of their civil rights but of their human dignity as well."
…after which the parish Bishop had him burned at the stake. Well…not Literally…
Parish leaders concluded two morning Masses on Sunday with an apology to parishioners.
Farrow’s statements, they said, were not in accord with church teachings. Also, the priest did not inform church elders about his plans before delivering his sermon, said Deacon John Supino, who read a letter from Steinbock reaffirming the Catholic Church’s support for Proposition 8.
Quoting Steinbock, Supino said the church teaches that sex is a gift from God to be acted on only by a man and a woman within marriage. But Proposition 8, he insisted, does not represent a condemnation of gays or lesbians.
"The teachings of the church on these matters did not arise with Proposition 8 but have been in place for over 2,000 years," Supino said.
There’s something else that’s been in place for over 2,000 years. They call it antisematism. Or as James Carrol put it at the beginning of his history of antisematism, Constantine’s Sword:
We shall see how defenders of the Church take pains to distinguish between "anti-Judaism" and "antisemitism"; between Christian Jew-hatred as a "necessary but insufficient" cause of the Holocaust; between the "sins of the children" and the sinlessness of the Church as such. These distinctions become meaningless before the core truth of this history: Because the hatred of Jews had been made holy, it became lethal.
Ten years ago yesterday, a five-foot, two, 105 pound gay college kid died after being tortured and beaten by two thugs almost twice his size. He was beaten so badly the hospital staff who received him after the police cut him from the fence he’d been tied to, compared his condition to that of automobile accident victims. But it was no accident. His killer’s knew that while God might hold them accountable for stealing his wallet, He would look the other way while they tied that kid to a fence, beat him to a pulp, put their cigarettes out on his body and left him to die slowly in the cold plains night. In most American churches, today still, the sermon is that Christ’s call to love your neighbor ends at the doorstep of your homosexual neighbor’s house.
Farrow became a priest 23 years ago, working in parishes in Visalia, Merced, Bakersfield and the nearby town of Arvin. A graduate of St. John’s Seminary in Camarillo, he also served as a chaplain in the Air Force Reserve at Edwards Air Force Base near Palmdale in the early 1990s.
Farrow, who said he realized that he was gay in boyhood, revealed his sexual orientation only to close friends and family. He told his parents just four years ago.
"This was the secret I was going to take to my grave," he said.
That changed when he received a June 30 "pastoral letter" from Steinbock’s office in which the bishop condemned the California Supreme Court’s ruling in May that legalized same-sex marriage, and supported the passage of Proposition 8, calling marriage between a man and woman the "foundation blocks for society." He compared the court’s action to efforts by Nazi Germany and the Communist regimes in Russia and China to alter family arrangements.
Only Nazis or communists would want a society that treats homosexuals as the equals of heterosexuals…right? That’s what these righteous men of god are saying there isn’t it. And never mind that this is what the Nazis actually did to homosexuals…
…er…along with something like Nine Million Jews. Which is pretty much what you’d expect after…what…two-thousand years of calling Jews Christ killers and waving Leviticus at homosexuals. And the communists weren’t, and aren’t what’s left of them, any better.
Russia is not the only post-Communist country with a gay problem. In Poland, authorities have recently undertaken an initiative to outlaw all discussion of homosexuality in schools, and a high-level official in charge of children’s rights, Ewa Sowinska, followed in the footsteps of the late Rev. Jerry Falwell by expressing concern about the sexuality of purse-carrying purple Teletubby Tinky Winky and its possible effects on young viewers.
A few days before his personal experience with homophobia in Moscow, Tatchell wrote about the problem of anti-gay bigotry in Eastern Europe on the blog of the British newspaper, The Guardian. "With the demise of communism," Tatchell noted, "religious fundamentalism and ultra-nationalism are filling the void. Homophobia is the hallmark of these reactionary movements."
But this argument is not entirely accurate. Far from being a new phenomenon in the former Soviet bloc, homophobia was also a hallmark of communist regimes. In the Soviet Union, male homosexuality was punishable by up to eight years of imprisonment; while sodomy laws in American states required proof of specific sexual act, a gay man in Soviet Russia could be jailed if his neighbors testified that he had no female company and frequent male visitors who stayed overnight. Castro’s Cuba has been notorious for its persecution of gays.
This isn’t rocket science. The totalitarian state cannot allow you to own your heart. Your heart must belong to the state. Orwell understood the puritanical nature of totalitarian states. In this passage of 1984 he captures it perfectly:
Unlike Winston, she had grasped the inner meaning of the Party’s sexual puritanism. It was not merely that the sex instinct created a world of its own which was outside the Party’s control and which therefore had to be destroyed if possible. What was more important was that sexual privation induced hysteria, which was desirable because it could be transformed into war-fever and leader-worship. The way she put it was:
"When you make love you’re using up energy; and afterwards you feel happy and don’t give a damn for anything. They can’t bear you to feel like that. They want you to be bursting with energy all the time. All this marching up and down and cheering and waving flags is simply sex gone sour. If you’re happy inside yourself, why should you get excited about Big Brother and the Three-Year Plans and the Two Minutes Hate and all the rest of their bloody rot?"
That was very true, he thought. There was a direct intimate connexion between chastity and political orthodoxy. For how could the fear, the hatred, and the lunatic credulity which the Party needed in its members be kept at the right pitch, except by bottling down some powerful instinct and using it as a driving force? The sex impulse was dangerous to the Party, and the Party had turned it to account.
But this is the essential nature of sexual puritanism as well. The theocrats claim to be merely serving God’s will…but what king didn’t also claim exactly the same thing? What dictator? When the leaders of the Catholic church complain that Nazis and communists were trying to bend the shape of the family to their liking, they are the pot calling the kettle black. Totalitarian states have always sought to dictate the nature of family life. And they have always needed their scapegoats.
Let it be said, the Catholic church isn’t now, and wasn’t then, the only righteous house of god busy campaigning to purge society of its deviants. A lot of fine, upstanding protestants were and are doing exactly the same thing. Proposition 8 isn’t about protecting marriage. It is about protecting the stigma theocrats have placed on gay and lesbian people. That’s it. That’s all that it is about. Because when the day comes that Americans take for granted that the homosexual is a fellow American and neighbor too, then America’s tinpot dictators won’t have any scapegoats left to rouse the passions of the mob toward. We have always been at war with homosexuality…
What kind of America do you want to live in? The one where the dream of liberty and justice for all still lives, or the one where only the dream of theocrats are allowed? Would you rather live in an America where neighbors can look each other in the face as equals, or the America of James Dobson and Karl Rove and Pope Ratzinger, where some are more equal then others?
Do you dream the dream of freedom…of a world where totalitarianism is just a distant, ugly memory? Where everyone is free to follow their hopes and dreams wherever they lead? Do you believe in liberty and justice for all? Do you believe in love? Please help fight the good fight. Donate Here, to No on 8. Or Here, to Arizona Together. Or Here, to Say No On Two.
Donate between now and election day online (for any amount), and send me your confirmation email and I will draw an editorial cartoon on the topic of your choice. Or…alternately…a Mark and Josh cartoon on the topic of your choice.
Or…if my cartoons don’t do it for you…I’ll gladly mail you a signed 11 by 19 print of the image of your choice out of any of my photo galleries.
Sometimes the images just leap out at you as you’re strolling down the street…
This was taken by a Blockbuster Video store that’s downsizing. They used to put current release posters up in the windows on that side of the store. Now they’ve vacated that side and the posters are in tatters.
Another dream I had just now. I want to say it’s another odd one, but to tell the truth this is pretty typical. Not so much because it was unpleasent…most of my dreams are actually quite nice…but because it was so vivid, and yet so damn weird in places. I’ve had dreams like this all my life.
It starts with me mowing the lawn…something I was doing late yesterday because I’d let my tiny back yard go to seed again. So getting it back under control was a lot of work for a back yard so tiny. In this dream, I’m living in some suburb somewhere, in a somewhat larger detached house with a nice lawn all around it. There’s a bug infestation that’s killing my grass, and I go get some lawn and garden pesticide to put down.
The next thing I know is I’m under arrest. They tell me that a cloud of gas rose up from my lawn after I laid down the pesticide, and drifted over to a neighbor’s house and killed him while He was mowing His lawn.
I don’t remember the trial at all. Just…next thing I know I’ve been convicted and given a sentance of death, and I’m being led to the death chamber.
Here’s where the dream takes on a Twilight Zone-ish quality. They sit me down in a comfortable, somewhat overstuffed chair in what looks more like a doctor’s waiting room then an execution chamber. I’m given a single shot of poison. Then I’m free to go. Somehow I know that the way execution works in this particular dream world, is the condemned are given a shot of some sort of slow acting poison that takes something more then a day to kill you, and when it does it happens all at once, not slowly and painfully. You’re then allowed to leave the prison, go settle your affairs, and basically spend your one last day however you wish.
Next thing I know I’m in the parking lot of some large, but not mega-large, Baptist church with mom and a few other people I don’t recognize. This was not how I wanted to spend my last moments on earth, being emotionally suffocated among people who couldn’t care less about me, so much as using my life as their own stepping stone to heaven.
Mom, as always, excepted. She’s the only person there I know. Everyone else is a complete stranger, which is odd in retrospect because the dream could have easily populated that church parking lot with people I knew from my church days, or other family members on mom’s side who go to church…er…religiously. Instead they’re all stereotypical Southern Baptist church droids, and I feel oddly, like a missionary surrounded by cannibals. They’re all giving me, the condemned man, these sickly sweet fundamentalist smiles that barely hide the emotional hunger behind them.
Mom’s the only person there who I know loves me, and I’m distraught at having to put her through all this. That’s the other wierd thing about how executions are done in this dream world. The trials are secret and nobody knows when you’ve been released from prison that you’ve been given The Shot unless you tell them. I figure that’s so you can go on about your last day as close to normal as you might want. Somehow I’ve ended up here in this church parking lot with mom and she’s making another attempt to get me back in church again. She doesn’t seem very upset though. In fact, she’s her usual cheerful self. So I figure, releaved, that she doesn’t know I’ve just been executed. But she’s the only one there who doesn’t know. All the church droids know, and they’re all giving me that concern troll look I came to know and despise when I was a kid.
Like everyone else there except me, mom’s in her Sunday best. I’m dressed as I always am, in blue jeans and sneakers and a light short sleeved shirt. And as is typical in my dreams whenever I’m self-aware I seem to be, at various points during the dream, the age I am now and a teenager again. When I tell her I’m not interested in going inside the church she smiles and says that’s okay, and gives me a little hug. Once I got old enough to make my own decisions, she never tried to force me into going to church. She walks inside, leaving me out in the parking lot. The church droids follow her in. Irritatingly though, not all of them.
One church droid stays behind with me…some middle age man I’ve never met before, wearing a dazzlingly tacky polyester suit, is looking at me with that expression I know all too well as a prelude, not to making a pass at me, but worse, to a proselytize. Incoming…!
I sit down and lean up against a car in the parking lot. I have my laptop with me and I open it up and decide to blog. Somehow when I open up the laptop I have an internet connection and I can post to my blog. Maybe there’s a wireless portal somewhere nearby…I don’t know. But I can sign into my blog. I want to write one last post. I want to apologize for killing someone…whoever that someone was. I want to write some last essay about how I found life to be, now that I know how it ends. But I can’t write. This is a dream and deciphering written words has always been a major struggle for me in dreams. It’s like the part of my brain that decodes words on a page just isn’t online when I’m asleep.
So instead I decide to draw something. Somehow, my blog software has a Photoshop plug-in and I can start drawing right into the blog. And here the dream gets a tad science-fictioney. My laptop all of a sudden has a drawer in it that I can pull out, and in it I have my drawing tools…the traditional one’s I’ve always used: technical pencil, ink pens, kneeded rubber eraser, charcoal sticks… I don’t need the Wacom tablet…a thing I’ve never really mastered the knack of drawing with anyway…I can draw with all my traditional art tools right on the screen of my laptop, and it all just goes into Photoshop as though I was doing it on art paper.
(Can I get a patent on this idea? Probably not…)
So I start drawing something. I start drawing a landscape. It’s the field behind one of the apartment complexes I grew up in. There was a place there where I used to watch the sunsets when I was a kid. That’s what I start drawing. The church droid starts asking me the usual leading questions about what I’m drawing. I say nothing to him. After a while, he just shuts up. Good! Leave me alone!
I really start getting into my drawing. It feels good…real good…because I haven’t been able to draw now for so long in real life. I’ve been so heartached I can’t even go near my drawing table. Now here, in the dream, I can draw again. It feels wonderful. The drawing trance is so much better then the coding trance, when I can get it.
I’ve almost got my drawing finished when suddenly I start feeling the poison begin to work. My hands and the rest of my body start going numb. I loose fine control of my fingers and it’s hard to manipulate the keyboard. It feels like a really severe fevor is sweeping through my veins. I realize I don’t have much longer and I need to tell everyone this is the last message. I try to find a clear spot on the artwork where I can write something out but I can’t. The view is magnified and I can’t scale it back. All I can do is drag the viewport around and try to find some open spot on the artwork where I can enter some text. But it’s all varying textures of charcoal and ink everywhere I look. For a moment I’m afraid I won’t be able to get my last words out there. But then I find a spot, and…somehow…I manage to enter a few brief final words to…well…to everybody:
I am about to be executed. This is my last post. Goodbye.
I hit "Publish" and close the laptop. Then I get up and start walking out of the parking lot. I’m feeling feverish, very feverish. Suddenly I’m not in the parking lot of the church, but of Congressional Plaza…a large strip shopping center near where I grew up way back when. It’s odd…once again I’m a teenager, yet I’m carrying my silver Mac PowerBook and I’m walking to a spot behind the little Hot Shoppes Cafateria that stood by itself in the front of the Plaza parking lot. And I’m going there because I know that’s where I’ve parked my car. The Mercedes. Yet in my dream I’m a kid again and I sure didn’t have the kind of money back then for the laptop, let alone the Mercedes. But when I get to the Hot Shoppes, I decide instead of getting into my car I would go sit by the small green dumpster out back and die there. Somehow I find that fitting.
As I walk back to the corner where the dumpster is, I meet a homeless man heading for the same place. He grins at me and asks me if I’m looking for a place to rest for the night too, and I tell him he might not want to spend it with me because I’ve been given The Shot and I’m about to die. Well don’t die in front of me, he tells me, but not unkindly; more like he’s sharing a friendly joke with me. But he knows I’m serious. He’s a middle age black man, with a touch of grey in his hair and beard. But for a homeless man he’s dressed pretty well…casually, clean slacks…pressed no less…sneakers and a sport shirt. His hair is neatly trimmed and he looks clean as a whistle. Yet, somehow, I know he’s homeless. I notice then that he’s with a young teenaged white girl, who looks more the part of a homeless person. Her clothes are worn and dirty and she looks like she’s slept for the past several days in them. She has long stringy blond hair and looks like she hasn’t bathed in weeks. They don’t seem to be companions though…more like two people who just happened to be in the same place at the same time with me, looking for a spot to spend the night. The man seems decent and very friendly. The girl lonely, tired and very sad.
The three of us walk together toward the dumpster, looking for a place to rest. They for the night. Me for…well…for forever.
The two of them sit down on one side of the dumpster and I go around to the other side and rest with my back to it. I am miserable, and I want to be alone. The sun is getting low in the sky now, but it’s not near twilight yet. It’s still bright out, but the angle of light is low and the shadows are getting long. My body is getting really, really numb now. I start bawling. I’m really, really sorry I killed that guy…whoever he was. I just start crying my heart out over it…
…and then, I wake up.
As always when I wake up from a crying dream, I’m a bit surprised to find my face is perfectly dry. But I’m not fully awake either. It’s still early in the night and I can tell I haven’t had a good deep sleep yet because of the way my body feels. Whenever I wake up before I’ve had a deep sleep my body feels a tad like it’s in a fever. So I just lay there for a while and think about trying to get back to sleep.
The dream is lingering oddly…I can still hear the other two people by the dumpster talking softly, distantly. I can’t make out the words. Then I distinctly hear the sound of the dumpster’s hinged lid being opened. Then I hear something, like a sigh. I’m still half asleep in this lingering dream and I know what I just heard was the sound of my last breath. I just died.
I lay in bed turning it all over. I think I’ve died about a zillion times in my dreams over the course of my life. But now I feel like the fates have given me a gift of some sort. You never know when your last breath is, it just happens and you’re dead so you never know that was the last one. But I heard it. I heard my last breath.
I’ve said it before. Over and over. The shit doesn’t really start hitting the fan, until the republicans start loosing power…
LA CROSSE, Wis. (AP) — Some of the anger is getting raw at Republican rallies and John McCain is mostly letting it flare. A sense of grievance spilling into rage has gripped some GOP events as McCain supporters see his presidential campaign lag against Barack Obama. They’re making it personal, against the Democrat. Shouts of “traitor,” “terrorist,” “treason,” “liar,” and even “off with his head” have rung from the crowd at McCain and Sarah Palin rallies, and gone unchallenged by them.
Everyone is starting to notice now, the frenzy of hate the republicans are whipping themselves into. From Sullivan:
To some, a president Obama is simply unimaginable. From a McCain supporter in Wisconsin yesterday:
"We’re all wondering why Obama is where he’s at. How he got here. Everybody in this room is stunned we’re in this position."
There was always going to be a point of revolt and panic for a core group of Americans who believe that Obama simply cannot be president – because he’s black or liberal or young or relatively new. This is that point. As the polls suggest a strong victory, the Hannity-Limbaugh-Steyn-O’Reilly base are going into shock and extreme rage. McCain and Palin have decided to stoke this rage, to foment it, to encourage paranoid notions that somehow Obama is a "secret" terrorist or Islamist or foreigner. These are base emotions in both sense of the word.
But they are also very very dangerous. This is a moment of maximal physical danger for the young Democratic nominee. And McCain is playing with fire. If he really wants to put country first, he will attack Obama on his policies – not on these inflammatory, personal, creepy grounds. This is getting close to the atmosphere stoked by the Israeli far right before the assassination of Rabin.
For God’s sake, McCain, stop it. For once in this campaign, put your country first.
But Garrison Keillor was right…they’re republicans first, and Americans second. And they have a history of this, which goes right back to Kennedy. When King was assassinated in Memphis, they were calling him a traitor too…
And really the unsayable. But I’ve been thinking about this McCain-Palin Obama "palling around with terrorist" idea more lately. The saddest thing about many Republicans isn’t just that they disagree with liberals on race–it’s they are largely ignorant on race. When the McCain campaign cast the spell of diabolical jingoism, they have no idea of the forces they are toying with. We remember Martin Luther King’s murder as a sad and tragic event. Less remembered is the fact that ground-work for King’s murder was seeded, not simply by rank white supremacy, but by people who slandered King as a communist.
This was not some notion bandied about by conspiracy theorist, but an accusation proffered by men who were the pillars of the modern Republican Party:
As late as 1964, Falwell was attacking the 1964 Civil Rights Act as "civil wrongs" legislation. He questioned "the sincerity and intentions of some civil rights leaders such as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., James Farmer, and others, who are known to have left-wing associations." Falwell charged, "It is very obvious that the Communists, as they do in all parts of the world, are taking advantage of a tense situation in our land, and are exploiting every incident to bring about violence and bloodshed."
Falwell was not alone. These men didn’t kill Martin Luther King, but they contributed to an atmosphere of nationalism, white supremacy and cheap unreflective patriotism that ultimately got a lot of people killed. Confronted with Aparthied South Africa, men like Helms and Falwell used the same "communist" defense. While Mandella wasted away in prison, they dismissed the whole thing as a communist plot.
Let me be clear–This is the ghost that McCain Campaign is summoning. This is the Ring Of Power that they want to wield. The Muslim charge, the "Hussein" thing is nothing more than today’s red-baiting, and it is what it was then–a cover for racists. You may say I’m overreacting, and I really hope you’re right. 999,000 out 1 million times we’ll go on like normal and proceed to Election Day. But if some shit pops off, the thug and thug-mongers will not be able to throw up their hands and say "How could I have known?" Ignorance will not save them. Their stupidity is a scourge on us all.
Let me smack the subtext here out into the open: they’re trying to get him killed. As recently as a few days ago I was content to believe they just wanted to lay the groundwork for the scorched earth campaign against President Obama and a democratic congress. But that’s naive and anyone of my generation should know better…really…
I still remember vividly the day president Kennedy was assassinated. I was home from school, very very sick with a flu and a high fever. I was drifting in and out of sleep with the bed stand radio on, playing soft music. I woke up, to the sound of a man’s voice saying over and over again, "The president has been shot…The president has been shot…The president has been shot…"..
Two days before President Kennedy’s trip to Dallas, right-wingers began circulating around the city some 5,000 anti-Kennedy handbills. Entitled “Wanted for Treason,” these leaflets were designed to look like a police “wanted” poster, with front and profile photographs of Kennedy’s head.
The handbills shrieked:
“This man is wanted for treasonous activities against the United States:
1. Betraying the Constitution (which he is sworn to uphold):
He is turning the sovereignty of the U.S. over to the communist controlled United Nations.
He is betraying our friends (Cuba, Katanga, Portugal) and befriending our enemies (Russia, Yugoslavia, Poland).
2. He has been WRONG on innumerable issues affecting the security of the U.S. (United Nations-Berlin wall-Missile removal-Cuba-Wheat deals-Test Ban Treaty, etc.).
3. He has been lax in enforcing Communist Registration laws.
4. He has given support and encouragement to the Communist inspired racial riots.
5. He has illegally invaded a sovereign State with federal troops.
6. He has consistently appointed Anti-Christians to Federal office:
Upholds the Supreme Court in its Anti-Christian rulings.
Aliens and known Communists abound in Federal offices.
7. He has been caught in fantastic LIES to the American people (including personal ones like his previous marriage and divorce).”
On the very day JFK visited Dallas and died, the local newspaper, The Dallas Morning News, featured a full page, black-bordered anti-Kennedy advertisement prepared and paid for by persons affiliated with the John Birch Society, one of the most infamous right-wing extremist organizations of the 1960’s. The ad claimed to be the work of “The American Fact-Finding Committee,” in reality a nonexistent organization. Bernard Weissman, listed on the ad as the chairman of the Committee, however, did exist; he was the person who actually placed the ad. Weissman later testified before the Warren Commission. He was one of the few witnesses before that body who deemed it prudent to appear accompanied by an attorney.
The ad began with a sarcastic “Welcome Mr. Kennedy to Dallas,” a city which had been the victim of “a recent Liberal smear attempt” and which had prospered “despite efforts by you and your administration to penalize it for non-conformity to ‘New Frontierism’.” The ad then posed a series of belligerent, insulting loaded questions, including:
“Why has Gus Hall, head of the U.S. Communist Party, praised almost every one of your policies and announced that his party will endorse and support your re-election bid?”
“Why have you ordered or permitted your brother Bobby, the Attorney General, to go soft on Communists, fellow-travelers, and ultra-leftists in America, while permitting him to persecute loyal Americans who criticize you, your administration, and your leadership?”
“Why have you scrapped the Monroe Doctrine in favor of the ‘Spirit of Moscow’?”
Later that morning there were disparaging protests by right-wingers against JFK along the route of the presidential motorcade as it traveled from the airport to downtown Dallas. As the motorcade drove through the suburbs, with President Kennedy only minutes from death, an unfriendly-looking man in a business suit stood on a sidewalk in an aggressive posture holding a protest sign which screamed: “Because of high regard for the presidency I hold you JFK and your blind socialism in complete contempt.” (A photograph of this right-wing protester with his sign, taken by Dallas newspaper photographer Tom Dillard, is reproduced on p. 438 of Richard B. Trask’s Pictures of the Pain: Photography and the Assassination of President Kennedy (1994).)
In Dealey Plaza, at the time of the actual assassination, there was at least one right-winger present publicly expressing his scorn for the president. On the sidewalk near the Stemmons Freeway traffic sign, only a few feet from the slow-moving presidential limousine during the very moments rifle bullets were slamming into JFK’s body, a mysterious man stood wearing a suit and, unlike anyone else there, holding up an open, black umbrella on this warm, sunshiny day. (The “Umbrella Man,” as this enigmatic character soon was dubbed, is visible in the Zapruder film. He also can be seen in a famous still color photograph of the assassination taken by amateur photographer Phil Willis. The Willis photo is reproduced on p. 190 of Robert J. Groden’s The Killing of a President (1993).)
The identity of the Umbrella Man remained a secret for 15 years. Then, in September 1978, a man named Louie Steven Witt appeared before the U.S. House of Representatives Select Committee on Assassinations and admitted that he was the Umbrella Man. He told the Committee that he been there in Dealey Plaza to heckle JFK, and that he displayed the umbrella because he was under the impression that brandishing an umbrella would irritate JFK. He testified: “I was going to use this umbrella to heckle the President’s motorcade. … Being a conservative-type fellow, I sort of placed him [JFK] in the liberal camp, and I was just sort of going to kind of do a little heckling. … I just knew it was a sore spot with the Kennedys. … I was carrying that stupid umbrella, intent [on] heckling the President.” Witt denied that the umbrella he had in Dealey Plaza symbolized the appeasement practices of English Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain (who often sported a black umbrella), or that the umbrella was intended to suggest that JFK was appeasing Communism the way Chamberlain had appeased Hitler. This denial is not credible. Among right-wingers, it was an article of faith that JFK’s supposedly soft, weak-kneed policies against the threat of Communism were the equivalent of Chamberlain’s futile attempts to appease Adolf Hitler.
Not even Kennedy’s death at 1 p.m. at Parkland Memorial Hospital in Dallas stopped right-wingers from publicly displaying their loathing of JFK. As William Manchester notes in his classic The Death of a President (1967): “At 3:05 p.m., when 80 percent of the American People were in deep grief, an NBC camera panned toward a group of spectators outside Parkland’s emergency entrance and picked up a young man with a placard that read, ‘Yankee, Go Home.’” (In a wealthy Dallas suburb, Manchester reminds us, “pupils of a fourth-grade class, told that the President of the United States had been murdered in their city, burst into spontaneous applause.”) -JFK Blown Away-Hooray! – D. Wilkes, University of Georgia
If you think the McCain campaign is playing with fire you are sadly mistaken. They Are of the fire. America, and the American Dream, lives or dies depending on how many of us are left, who still believe in it, and will defend it against the mob. Democracies don’t die at the hands of foreign enemies. They die when the mob overwhelms the dream of freedom and liberty and justice for all. The gutter cannot tolerate and will not willingly endure a world, where they have to witness what free men and women are capable of when the chains are cast off, and their dreams take wing. They will burn it all down if they have to, so they don’t have to know what humanity is capable of, that they might have been…
Well after all, California isn’t the only state fighting an anti-gay same sex marriage amendment. Florida and Arizona are also fighting. So in the spirit of we’re all in this together, if you donate to the fight in any one of those states too (any amount), and email me the acknowledgment of your contribution (sans any personal info like SSN or credit card numbers…of course) I will honor the offer I made below to No On 8 in California.
…or photograph. To repeat from the previous post…here’s the deal:
Donate Here to the fight against Proposition 8…the California referendum that would take away the right of same sex couples to marry. You must be a U.S. citizen to contribute. If you donate between now and election day to No On 8 online (for any amount), send me your confirmation email, and I will draw an editorial cartoon on the topic of your choice. Or…alternately…a Mark and Josh cartoon on the topic of your choice.
Or…if my cartoons don’t do it for you…I’ll gladly mail you a signed 11 by 19 print of the image of your choice out of any of my photo galleries.
In a world that can’t seem to hate enough, please do what you can to help same sex couples keep their marriages secure. This poor angry world needs a lot more of this…
Here’s a handy database form you can query to see who is donating to the fight over California proposition 8 (for and against). It’s probably incomplete though, as it says it was updated on the 7th and my donation of $500 dollars (to the folks fighting against of course) doesn’t show up…
You can donate Here to the fight against Prop 8. You must be a U.S. citizen to contribute. Between now and election day, anyone who donates to No On 8 online (any amount) and sends me their confirmation email, can commission from me an editorial cartoon on the topic of their choice. Or…alternately…a Mark and Josh cartoon on the topic of your choice.
Or…if my cartoons don’t do it for you…I’ll gladly mail you a signed 11 by 19 print of the image of your choice out of any of my photo galleries.
Insulting The Owners Of Other Car Brands Is An Iffy Sales Plan
Via Benz Insider… Yes. I know. Mercedes sedans are owned by senile old rich guys. With trophy wives no less…
I’m really not sure who Audi is trying to sell their cars to here, but I’m guessing it’s people who don’t already own a BMW, Mercedes or Lexus. I have to say though…the two girls in the back of that Lexus SUV do the best Wednesday Adams since Christina Ricci in the Adams Family movie. That Lexus family should get its own show. The Adams Family, only instead of everyone being disturbed the same way, everyone is disturbed in their own special way.
As for the old guy in the Mercedes…look…I’ll gladly endure senility, if the ‘S’ class, the mansion, a hot young guy and a good cigar go with it. Was all that supposed to be a disincentive?
This blog is powered by WordPress and is hosted at Winters Web Works, who also did some custom design work (Thanks!). Some embedded content was created with the help of The Gimp. I proof with Google Chrome on either Windows, Linux or MacOS depending on which machine I happen to be running at the time.
