Bent Logic

That's What I'm Screaming

2009-09-28T22:01:00.003+02:00

Read this NYTimes op ed piece for jewels of educational reason such as this:

One of the tests I scored had students read a passage about bicycle safety. They were then instructed to draw a poster that illustrated a rule that was indicated in the text. We would award one point for a poster that included a correct rule and zero for a drawing that did not.
The first poster I saw was a drawing of a young cyclist, a helmet tightly attached to his head, flying his bike over a canal filled with flaming oil, his two arms waving wildly in the air. I stared at the response for minutes. Was this a picture of a helmet-wearing child who understood the basic rules of bike safety? Or was it meant to portray a youngster killing himself on two wheels?

And trust me, it gets better. When will we realize that unstandardizable standardized tests are a complete fallacy?

I [heart] Bollywood

2009-09-27T15:56:00.003+02:00

We had dinner last night at a Hindu Indian restaurant in Barcelona called Bollywood. It's in the Raval part of town, not far from the Ramblas and the statue of Christopher Columbus. I must say I thoroughly enjoyed the food. I do miss certain kinds of food here in Spain (read here all manner of spicy food). And the food at this particular Indian restaurant is marvelous. Not to mention the excellent ambiance, which includes Indian dancing on weekend nights (we unfortunately missed it).

But there's one thing I noticed during dinner. I'm left feeling a bit out of the loop when exposed to the cultural phenomenon that is Bollywood. Not the restaurant itself per se. The movies. I haven't seen any actual Bollywood films. And I'm always left with the feeling that I should. Oh, I've seen a few westernized films with Indian themes and characters: Bend it Like Beckham, Slumdog Millionaire, and the like. But my exposure to the actual film genre has been horribly limited. I feel I should remedy this situation.

When I see something like this video which I noticed at World of Wonder:

I feel left out. What is going on in the video seems to have absolutely nothing to do with the lyrics, which appear to simply be a list of international film directors. I just don't get it. But with the catchy rhythms, brilliant costumes, and exciting dancing, I want to. Oh I really, really want to.

I'd like to ask for Sinead's hand in marriage

2009-09-12T13:25:00.002+02:00

Via Gay Family Values:

You may have already seen this, but I think it's just brilliant.

Wal-Mart Bingo

2009-08-28T19:38:00.003+02:00

Did you see this over at World of Wonder? You might have to click to see the whole thing. It's worth it.

So true.

Blue Corner of Texas

2009-08-26T21:17:00.004+02:00

The El Paso City Council voted 7-1 yesterday to allow unmarried couples the right to receive health benefits. That means the partners of gay city employees can now receive equivalent care to the partners of married heterosexuals. According to an El Paso Times article:

The decision means that live-in partners of unmarried municipal employees will
qualify for city medical coverage for the first time.
More than 40 people spoke
before council members voted 7-1 in favor of the benefit program. Northeast city Rep. Carl L. Robinson
dissented.
City Hall was tense as the crowd of speakers formed
to try to lobby the council one last time. Mayor John Cook warned visitors
against using hateful terms or inflammatory language.

Of course people are arguing that it's just a reaction to the recent bad publicity about an incident at Chico's Tacos. But who cares? If the "915" city council does the right thing, it doesn't really matter why.

At Least We're Not in Senegal

2009-08-26T11:38:00.002+02:00

Via Big Gay News:

A Senegalese court is trying two 17-year-old boys for the crime of homosexuality. According to a Voice of America article the boys come from Darou Mousty, a devoutly religious town in northern Senegal. Their trial in juvenile court is the latest in a series of cases against gay men. From VOA:

Three other young men from Darou Mousty were arrested with the teenagers in June, but were tried in an adult court in August. Two of the men received five-year sentences and a third, who is younger, was sent to jail for two years. In Senegal, homosexuality is punishable by a maximum of 5 years in jail and fines of up to $3,000.

Siré Ba is a lawyer representing two of the men, including one of the seventeen-year-olds. He says the men were in a private house when a neighbor walked in. Ba says the young men were not caught in the act of having sex, but rather were involved in what he calls 'questionable' activities.

Senegalese law requires that people of the same sex be caught in-the-act in order to be convicted. But Ba says the judge's decision in sentencing the men was subjective.

Senegal has a history of intolerance toward gays. When nine men were convicted of unnatural acts and conspiracy and sentenced to eight years in prison in 2008, their convictions were overturned. But that caused violent public backlash . The grave of an out gay man has been repeatedly dug up and dumped outside the Muslim cemetery. And many homosexuals fear for their lives and safety in Senegal.

Ted Kennedy

2009-08-26T11:14:00.003+02:00

Senator Ted Kennedy, 77 died of brain cancer Tuesday night at his home in Hyannis Port. A statement from his family as quoted in the Huffington Post:

"Edward M. Kennedy - the husband, father, grandfather, brother and uncle we loved so deeply - died late Tuesday night at home in Hyannis Port," the statement said. "We've lost the irreplaceable center of our family and joyous light in our lives, but the inspiration of his faith, optimism, and perseverance will live on in our hearts forever. We thank everyone who gave him care and support over this last year, and everyone who stood with him for so many years in his tireless march for progress toward justice, fairness and opportunity for all. He loved this country and devoted his life to serving it. He always believed that our best days were still ahead, but it's hard to imagine any of them without him."

He was an advocate for universal health care and LGBT rights as well as many other important issues. Sometimes he seemed like the only sane voice during the dark years of the Bush administration. He will be greatly missed.

Unexpected Pleasantness

2009-08-23T11:50:00.004+02:00

Ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you, I'm sure you've been victimized, been wary of, or at least heard of pickpockets. They're the whole reason people buy those strange wallets that hang around your neck and make you look like you have a misplaced colostomy bag. They drive ordinarily sane tourists to behave like paranoid schizophrenics when they visit major landmarks. But have you ever heard of a putpocket?

According to Reuters, there's an advertising campaign going on until the end of August by the UK broadband service provider TalkTalk that is hiring former pickpockets to actually put money into strangers pockets in public areas of London. Yep, they're giving away 100,000 pounds in 5 to 20 pound increments in places like Covent Garden and Trafalgar Square. The putpockets will be menacing open bags and easy access pockets with free cash.

From Reuters:

The initiative, which runs until the end of August in London before being rolled out countrywide, is being funded by a broadbrand provider, which says it wants to brighten up people's lives in unusual ways.
"It feels good to give something back for a change -- and Britons certainly need it in the current economic climate," said Chris Fitch, a former pickpocket who now heads TalkTalk's putpocketing initiative.
"Every time I put money back in someone's pocket, I feel less guilty about the fact I spent many years taking it out."

I still wouldn't leave my belongings open, hoping for a marauding putpocket if I were in any of those places. The unreformed pickpockets are still out there. Of course I wouldn't buy one of those neck wallet things either.

My Mom is Cooler than Yours

2009-08-23T09:51:00.003+02:00

Via The Hufington Post:

How about a bit of strangeness for your Sunday?

Philip Schuth, 56 of French Island, WI has been doing everything he possibly can to stay in solitary confinement for the duration of his 7 year prison sentence. Since he was sentenced in November 2005, he has earned more than 1,400 days in "the hole" for swearing at guards, threatening people, or just refusing to leave his cell. According to a Huffington Post article he is in prison for hiding a corpse, attempted homicide, recklessly endangering safety, and a concurrent 4-month federal sentence for Social Security Fraud.

From The Huffington Post:

For decades Schuth and his mother, Edith, lived in a crumbling two-story house in the town of Campbell, a hamlet of about 4,000 people on French Island outside La Crosse. Children teased him in school and he never found real work, neighbors said. He often walked the streets in knee-high rubber boots.
Things came to a head in April 2005, when Schuth shot Randy Russell Jr. after Russell came into his yard to ask if Schuth had hit Russell's 10-year-old son. Russell fled and Schuth retreated into his house. An all-night standoff with police ensued. Schuth eventually surrendered without incident and Russell survived his wounds.
Police then discovered Schuth's dead mother in a basement chest freezer, frozen into a 200-to-300 pound block of ice. Schuth told investigators she died in 2000 of natural causes. He kept her hidden because he feared police might charge him with homicide and he needed her Social Security payments.

The article also discusses a speech he gave in federal court that included Latin and a plea for actress Jennifer Garner to be given more roles and for Ben Affleck to be given fewer. It also indicates he spent at least a year of his prison term at "another facility" that could not be named due to patient confidentiality rules.

Now, I'm not psychologist, psychiatrist, or even a very good listener. But I think it's pretty clear this guy should not be in prison. He should be under treatment for his mental problems, certainly, but how is an obviously mentally ill person served (or how is society protected from him) by locking him up with (other) criminals?

And you know what? I don't think I'm going to refer to myself as antisocial anymore. Sure I don't like being around people that much but it could be much worse (apparently). In comparison to Schuth I barely qualify as a hermit. At least not until I clear out the ice chest for Mama so I don't have to face people coming into my home.

Maggie Gallagher PWND

2009-08-22T16:51:00.002+02:00

Via Joe. My. God.:

I'm not a fan of Lou Dobbs, but here he makes some sense about the whole gay marriage issue. Of course National Organization for Marriage's Maggie Gallagher tries her usual half-truth fear mongering shtick. While she's doing the changing-the-definition-of-marriage the sky is falling routine, Tobias Wolff tries to inject a bit of reasoned argument.

Pay special attention to 7:10 when Dobbs calls her out for her fear mongering in the nicest possible way.

Hate Crime No Hate Crime

2009-08-22T16:17:00.003+02:00

Via Big Gay News:

A 15-year-old from Portage Michigan was beaten by two other teenagers for being gay. According to a Chicago Tribune article, the two boys were charged as juveniles with aggravated assault and one of them has pleaded guilty. From the Tribune:

Although the victim's mother calls it a hate crime, officials say the closest thing under state statute -- an ethnic-intimidation law -- requires attacks to be motivated by race, color, religion, gender or national origin but not sexual orientation.

Lynette Rocha said Friday she will campaign to get the law changed following the attack on her son, Steven Harmon.

"I don't care what it takes or where I have to go," Rocha said, fighting back tears.

The boy said the teens who attacked him used gay slurs as they beat him, giving him a fractured cheek bone, two black eyes and other injuries on his head, face, and neck. The 15 and 16-year old attackers won't be charged with a hate crime because Michigan doesn't have hate-crime laws to protect LGBT people.

And some people are still arguing that hate crimes laws would infringe on their free practice of religion. No, hate crimes laws are not there to stop preachers from spewing hate from their pulpits. Hate crimes laws are there to stop our children from being terrorized like this kid was.

Mexico is the New Amsterdam

2009-08-22T15:33:00.003+02:00

Via Slog:

Now that Mexican President Felipe Calderón is no longer under the thumb of the Bush administration he has approved a law decriminalizing possession of small amounts of several drugs, including marijuana, cocaine, methamphetamine, LSD, and heroin. The law also encourages government-financed treatment for drug addiction. From a New York Times article:

The law sets out maximum “personal use” amounts for drugs, also including LSD and methamphetamine. People detained with those quantities will no longer face criminal prosecution; the law goes into effect on Friday.
Anyone caught with drug amounts under the personal-use limit will be encouraged to seek treatment, and for those caught a third time treatment is mandatory — although no penalties for noncompliance are specified.
Mexican authorities said the change only recognized the longstanding practice here of not prosecuting people caught with small amounts of drugs.

Just in case you're already packing your bags, you should know the Times article indicates you can now legally posses 5 grams of marijuana, 1/2 gram of cocaine, 50 milligrams of heroin, 40 milligrams of meth, or 0.015 milligrams of LSD in Mexico.

But don't expect the US to follow suit any time soon. Yes ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you, countries like Portugal, which decriminalized the possession of all drugs in 2001, have seen declines in drug use among young people. Also, according to a Time article in April treatment for drug abuse doubled and rates of HIV infection from dirty needles shrank since the country started offering treatment instead of jail time for people caught with drugs.

No, in the US they're still listening to the people who say that it'll just make the problem worse. The same thing critics said in Portugal. The same thing I'm sure critics are saying in Mexico.

Today In Earbugs

2009-08-20T18:42:00.003+02:00

Via Bearotic:

I just discovered The Cliks today. Now it's your turn.

They have a Web site.

Anti-Gay Bullying Alive and Well in NY

2009-08-20T16:55:00.003+02:00

Via Big Gay News:

The New York Civil Liberties Union filed a lawsuit against Mohawk Central School District for failing to protect a gay student from two years worth of harassment, abuse, and bullying. The 14-year-old boy, Jacob had to leave school two weeks early last school year because of escalating verbal and physical attacks by his peers and educators.

According to an article from the Evening Telegram (Herkimer, NY), the lawsuit is trying to change school policies and the way they are practiced and is also seeking compensation and punitive damages for the harassment Jacob suffered. The lawsuit also names several individuals including the the district superintendent, the school principal and an equal opportunity compliance officer for the district.

The superintendent released a statement saying, "Our district has not and will not knowingly tolerate discrimination or harassment of its students by anyone."

The article went on:

But the lawsuit is claiming abuse continued long after the administration became aware of the situation.
The parents contacted the NYCLU, an affiliate of American Civil Liberties Union, in June because the abuse had gotten progressively worse despite repeated complaints to school officials, Stoughton said.
It mostly began with verbal harassment in seventh grade at Gregory B. Jarvis Junior/Senior High School and “in eighth grade is when it turned violent,” [NYCLU attorney Corey] Stoughton added.

This escalation was a result of administrators not formally recording and investigating incidents, which is required by policy, as well as failing to discipline students responsible for abuse, Stoughton said.
There were several measures taken by the district to address the situation, though, according to affidavits.
A “safe room” was set up for the student to use if he felt threatened and he was allowed to bring a cell phone to school to call home.

The student’s affidavit, however, states he was kept from utilizing the measures on several occasions.
Stoughton said other students interviewed witnessed many of the instances of abuse. Some abuse, including one incident of comments made by a teacher, only involved the victim’s accusations, she added.
The NYCLU had been in contact with district officials over the summer, but Stoughton said “half measures” proposed for keeping the student safe weren’t sufficient to address the situation.
Attorneys with the NYCLU will be filing a motion within a short time, she said, and a jury trial is being requested.

Details of Jacob's accusations can be seen in his (NSFW because of language) affidavit, which was published on the NYCLU's Web site. It includes events such as:

In November 2008 a kid who picks on me all the time came up to me in the lunch room

and said "I'm glad your dad has cancer, I hope he dies soon, he's probably a faggot too so

why don't you go suck him off." There were lunch room monitors who were there but no

one said anything to the kid. I was really upset and shoved him. He shoved me back and

I hit him. I know I shouldn't have but I was so angry that he said he was glad my dad is

dying. Even though my dad told the principal what the kid had said to start it all, I got a

one day in-school suspension and I don't think the other kid did. We both got two weeks

of detention where they made us eat lunch together in a room alone and told us we had to

talk to each other. For the two weeks the other student just kept insulting me and saying

the same anti-gay things he always says. It was awful having to sit with him at lunch all

those days, it felt like an extra punishment on top of the suspension and detention.

and

Around December 2008 I was walking to class and as I passed my science teacher, Mr.:

Hartmann's, room Mr. Hartmann called me over and said "Come here, I need to talk to

you about something serious." He said I should be ashamed of myself for being gay and

also said "you should hate yourself every day unless you change."

and

On June 5, 2009 one of the students who is always bothering me leaned over to me in

Spanish class, took a pocket knife out under the desk, and told me he was going to stab

my "faggot ass" and hang me up on the flagpole. I was so scared I left class and ran

home where I told my dad what happened. I told my friend about it on my way out of

school and I think she told the principal. My dad went to the school to talk to someone

about it. No one ever interviewed me about what happened or asked me if anyone else

saw the knife.

Granted these are just Jacob's statements, and school officials haven't had a chance to respond to them yet. But these are just 3 of 41 points he talks about in the affidavit. Even if Jacob were (and I'm not saying he is) exaggerating or even lying about some of what happened to him, school officials should have stepped in long ago. Unfortunately Jacob's story is fairly common in schools in the US. How can LGBT students be expected to learn in an environment where they fear for their safety? How can they succeed when they suffer constant harassment? Jacob is lucky in some ways because he has supportive parents who are at least trying to stop the bullying. What happens to those who don't have that support?

Much Ado About Nothing

2009-08-20T14:35:00.004+02:00

Via the Husband:

Have you heard about the big controversy surrounding 18-year-old South African runner Caster Semenya? On Wednesday she took the gold at the Athletics World Championship in Berlin. But her victory was tainted by rumors that she is/was male. And now, according to a BBC News article, the International Association of Athletics Federations is asking her to take a gender test.

Her family, the African National Congress, and South Africa's athletics federation have stood solidly behind her through the controversy:

"I know she's a woman — I raised her myself," the 18-year-old's grandmother told South Africa's Times newspaper.
The ruling ANC party congratulated Ms Semenya and called on South Africans to rally around "our golden girl".
"We condemn the motives of those who have made it their business to question her gender due to her physique and running style," the African National Congress said in a statement.
"Such comments can only serve to portray women as being weak."

[and]

Her 80-year-old grandmother Maphuthi Sekgala said Ms Semenya had been teased when younger for her boyish looks.
She was also the only girl in the football team in Fairlie, a village in South Africa's northern Limpopo Province, Ms Sekgala told The Times.
"If the teasing hurt her, she kept the hurt to herself and didn't show what she was feeling," she said.

What exactly does a gender test entail anyway? Question one, Do you have a penis? Question two, Do you sit down to pee? Question three, When you look at your fingernails do you look at the back of your hand with your fingers pointing up or look at your palm with your fingers curled over? Question four, Can you write your name in the snow with urine without using stencils? Question five, Do you blow out a match or shake it?

Sure she has some sexy man-arms, but then again look at Michelle Obama'a guns. One would think we were beyond the whole if a woman succeeds in athletics she must be a tranny or a dyke thing. And ultimately what does it matter if she were transgendered? Is having testicles a form a cheating in competitive sports? If anything, I'd think man-parts would serve as a sort of handicap in running, but what do I know.

Anyway, I wish her good luck on her test.

Utterly Bizarre

2009-08-19T23:02:00.003+02:00

Via World of Wonder:

Just in case you haven't gotten your vomiting Asian trans bass player fix for the day...

I don't get it. But it's like a train wreck; I can't turn away either.

Barney Frank Answers

2009-08-19T15:01:00.003+02:00

Via Joe. My. God.:

For you ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you not in the US, the big lunatic issue in the US right now is healthcare reform. And a bunch of people are acting as puppets of the big businesses of the medical industry. They're interrupting town-hall meetings and spewing half-truths, pathos, and outright lies against the Obama administration's plans to fix healthcare. They're actually deluded into thinking crazy stuff like healthcare reform is a gateway to socialism; the government is going to institute killing squads to go around offing retarded people, poor babies, and the aged; and other silliness. In this video Congressman Barney Frank answers one of these morons.

Isn't it just a little bit delicious?

All the Good We Failed to Do

2009-08-19T14:31:00.006+02:00

Via my friend John:

Just in case you missed it, the BBC recently reported that anti-gay attacks are on the rise in Iraq. Hundreds of gay men have been targeted, almost 90 have been reported killed, and many others are missing in a coordinated campaign involving militia forces according to a report by Human Rights Watch. From the BBC article:

So-called honour killings also account for deaths where families punish their own kin in order to avoid public shame.
The report says members of the Mehdi Army militia group are spearheading the campaign, but police are also accused - even though homosexuality is legal.
Witnesses say vigilante groups break into homes and pick people up in the street, interrogating them to extract the names of other potential victims, before murdering them.
"Murder and torture are no way to enforce morality," said HRW researcher Rasha Moumneh, quoted in the report.
"These killings point to the continuing and lethal failure of Iraq's post-occupation authorities to establish the rule of law and protect their citizens."
In some cases, Human Rights Watch says it was told, Iraqi security forces had actually "colluded and joined in the killing".

It goes on to say that posters have appeared in Sadr City, Baghdad that list the names and addresses of gay men. The result? The mutilated bodies of gay men are found on garbage heaps labeled with anti-gay slurs. Military and religious officials are encouraging the attacks and the government is doing nothing to protect gay men in Iraq. And the victims' families aren't going to speak out.

"They consider talking about the subject worse than the crime itself. This is the nature of our society," ministry spokesman Major General Abdul-Karim Khalaf said.

Just a little more evidence of Bush's "mission accomplished."

Ask A Gay Family

2009-08-18T02:48:00.006+02:00

I posted about these guys a while back. And since then they've started a new series called Ask a Gay Family.

If the regular Gay Family Values videos were excellent in representing the qualities of gay families and the inherent lack of honesty in the arguments of the anti-gay-marriage folks, this series promises to bring more positive attention to the truth about gay families. Jay, Bryan, Daniel, and Selena are not only a positive loving family but also a set of role models and an excellent example of what a family should be, gay or otherwise.

Reunion

2009-08-17T16:23:00.009+02:00

Prince George High School Class of 1979

So ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you, I spent this weekend in Prince George, Virginia at the Husband's high school reunion. The Husband took some (extremely rare) time off of work and flew in, and I drove over from Kentucky (for 9 effing hours) where I'm spending a little time with the kids. For four days we were the guests of one of the Husband's closest high school/college friends (read here self-proclaimed former fag hag) and her husband. Our hosts were infinitely gracious. And they made some marvelous meals for us including Greek chicken thighs with sugar snap peas our last day there. (btw, if you guys read this can you send me the recipe as well as the recipe of the curry chicken salad?)

The reunion itself was spread over two evenings with a buffet/meet-and-greet at a local Italian restaurant on the first night. I think I held my composure very well considering I was a nervous mess. I'm sure you can imagine. I'm not the most social animal to begin with. Gatherings tend to terrify me. Crowds of strangers induce panic attacks. And who knew how the Husband's former classmates would respond to him showing up with his male partner, especially considering they grew up in a small southern US town? Barring any closeted individuals, we were the only two gay people there.

At one point they went around the room with everyone introducing themselves and giving a brief synopsis of their lives since high school, "Hi, I'm so-and-so. I live in Some Town, VA with my husband, so-and-so. We have three children and two grandchildren with one on the way." Nervous Nellie that I am, I worried about how the Husband would deliver his introduction. He certainly wasn't out in high school, and I don't know how many of his classmates have kept up with him enough (or sought out enough gossip about him) to know that he's gay. He told them he lives in Barcelona and introduced me as his partner.

Smiles. Nods of acknowledgment. No glares of burning hatred. No uncomfortable aversion of the eyes. If they had a problem with his sexuality or my presence there, they certainly hid it well. Overall people were pleasant, even friendly. They asked the usual questions about where I grew up and the part of Spain where we live. I was pleasantly surprised.

Later on the Husband told me he was nervous about mentioning the fact that we were married and that I have two kids. He didn't know how people would take it. Of course I understand. All too often I've seen perfectly open minded people turn to raging bigots around the issue of gay marriage. He was at least as petrified as I was if not more so. But he's gregarious enough to hide any trace of timidness.

The second night was a more formal dinner at a restaurant in the now gentrified former tobacco warehouse district in downtown Richmond. I wore my suit and a tie for the first time in about three years. But this time I wasn't as nervous. I had met some very nice people during the previous evening, and I knew I could talk to our hosts.

The evening began with cocktails and conversation, followed by a slideshow of photos from previous reunions. It was a bit like watching someone else's vacation photos from a place you really have no interest in visiting. But as the meal began with a basic salad, the room was punctuated with some interesting conversation. Allow me to paraphrase a few:

"Oh, you know she won't be coming this year. I think she's afraid for everyone to see how ugly her new husband is."

"Let me just dispel a rumor. He's not dead unless he died within the last 24 hours. I just talked to him on Facebook. I don't know why his mother said that."

"I had such a crush on you in high school. I'm not going to let this chance get by me tonight." (This last one was said to my Husband by a gorgeous African-American woman with blonde hair. I was told she was a cheerleader in high school, and she looked like she had kept herself in excellent shape. I think she probably could have kicked my ass, so I told the Husband he was on his own.)

Then, before the main course they gave out a couple of door prizes. They started out asking if anyone had been married in 2007. "Alright, did anyone get married in 2008?" I quickly deduced the prize was slated to go to the most recently married classmate. And I knew without a doubt that all that stuff the Husband had said about not knowing how people would take the whole gay-marriage issue went right out the window.

Just as an aside, the Husband likes winning prizes. He likes it a lot. No, he LOVES winning prizes. Have you ever seen the way a dog's demeanor changes when it sees a cat or a squirrel it wants to chase? Its muscles get tense. Its fur stands on end. Its pupils dilate to the size of saucers. Its focus on the prey becomes absolute so that it forgets the existence of its owner on the other end of its leash. It pulls toward the other animal like it's trying to win the iditerod.

Well, that's my Husband when he thinks there's a chance he might win a prize. He immediately began bouncing up and down on his seat and shouting " did she say 2009? 2009!" And no, he had no idea what the prize was. That doesn't seem to matter. I can't tell you how many evenings we've gotten more intoxicated that we intended to because raffle tickets were given away with each drink purchase.

"You were married this year?"

"Yes!"

"What date?"

He was too excited to answer so I told them July 3.

Applause. Congratulations. A gift certificate to Starbucks. Even excited requests to see the rings.

Overall our marriage was celebrated as if we were a straight couple. Granted there was one person who asked, "Is it legal? It's got to be legal."

But that question was answered "It's legal in Spain," and I think it was mostly friendly banter anyway.

And I heard someone saying, "You didn't know? Well I think everyone assumed..." But most of the Husband's classmates responded with smiles and congratulations. One of the organizers even came up to us later to make sure there were Starbucks in Spain so we could use our gift card.

The next prize went to the longest marriage, and soon after the main course arrived. The prime rib was excellent, even if the broccoli that accompanied it was a bit overcooked. And the desert was probably the best cheesecake I've ever had in a restaurant.

To be perfectly honest I was really surprised at our reception among the Husband's classmates. It just goes to show how civil and welcoming people can be if you give them a chance. I wouldn't have expected people who grew up in a small town in the southern US to be so open minded. It has made me think maybe I ought to give more people a chance. Maybe, just maybe I could go to my own class reunion the next time they have one. Maybe I can proudly introduce the people there to my Husband. And maybe they'll be as accepting of him as his classmates were of me. Maybe.

Minute of Hate

2009-08-17T15:46:00.003+02:00

Via Joe. My. God.:

You can learn a great deal from One News Now about how we homosexuals are destroying the ability of Christians to practice their religious freedoms. For instance did you know that "it is common for Christians and pastors to suffer at the hands of homosexual activists, simply for abiding by biblical principles?" They don't provide any examples of this great suffering experienced by Christians, but who needs examples? Sure, even the most elementary writers know that to build an argument you must prove your main ideas with supporting details. But apparently you don't need supporting details if you pack your writing with enough emotional rhetoric and empty pathos to get people excited about what you have to say.

Like some lovely quotes by Alliance Defense Fund's Ben Bull:

"One of the things that the leaders of the homosexual legal agenda have been saying for years is that whenever religious freedom or the free-speech rights of Christians interferes with their agenda, that their agenda trumps," he pointed out to conference attendees.

Bull called it a clear and present danger. "There's a freight train coming and it's heading right towards Christians, and it's called the homosexual legal agenda -- and it will run right over our constitutional rights unless we're heard loud and clear," he added.

Homosexual activists, Bull explained, have used the courts rather than elections to consistently gain ground.

For many religious people it is far more important to perceive persecution than to actually be persecuted.

Something Lovely

2009-08-17T15:35:00.003+02:00

Via See My Briefs:

From Ukraine's Got Talent we learn that both Britain and America don't have talent so much as an overabundance of people desperate to have their 15 minutes of fame. Truly, truly beautiful and moving.

Minute of Hate

2009-08-12T18:33:00.004+02:00

Via Slog:

You can't make this shit up.

According to an August 9 story from Bernama, a Malaysian government news agency, "Avoiding masturbation and homosexual activities are among preventative measures one could take against Influenza A (H1N1) [swine flu]." Yes, that's what they said. Masturbation and homosexuality make you more susceptible to swine flu. The article, which can be read here, goes on:

Dr. V. M. Palaniappan said that such activities caused the body to develop friction heat which in turn, produced acid and made the body hyperacidised.

"Thus, the body becomes an easy target for H1N1 infection," he told Bernama, emphasising however, that normal sexual union between members of the opposite sex was absolutely safe.

The former associate professor of ecology at Universiti Malaya has authored several books on complementary therapy called, 'Ecological Healing System'.

Dr Palaniappan said his 33 years of research had shown that high acidity in the body resulted in loss of immunity, thus making people more susceptible to viral diseases like Influenza A (H1N1).

Hence, to prevent acidity, it was essential to consume alkaline food and drinks that could neutralise excess acid in the body.

Dr Palaniappan recommends coconut water, which is alkaline, and therefore could be used as a herbal medicine for the prevention of H1N1.

Does that mean it's alright to have homosexual sex if you use coconut water as lube?

So anyway ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you, if you're going to have sex in Malaysia, do so with a person with different parts than yourself and share some coconut water afterwards. For goodness sake, stay away from friction-causing activities like buffing your callouses, running marathons, and buggery. And it's also best to avoid sound medical advice based on scientific research in favor of propagandistic quackery.

Of course homosexuality is illegal in predominantly Muslim Malaysia. And prosecution for sodomy is common there. So maybe it's best not to visit Malaysia at all.

Sheesh.

Tell Me About Our Love Igloo

2009-08-12T18:18:00.003+02:00

Via Joe. My. God.:

Kathy Griffin filled in for Larry King recently. She delivered some classic Kathy Griffin humor to the accompaniment of Levi Johnston's Cro-Magnon grunts.

I just love Ms. Griffin. It's great to watch the little pull quotes CNN usually sticks at the bottom of the screen. One gets the impression whoever does that had no idea what to do with what they were saying.

Movies I'm Eagerly Anticipating

2009-08-12T15:16:00.003+02:00

I saw a preview for the new Alice in Wonderland movie a few weeks ago and meant to do a post about it. It's directed by Tim Burton and features his usual collection of mysterious creatures in jars of ether, i.e. the actors, composers, etc. with whom he frequently works. Music by Danny Elfman, Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter, Helena Bonham Carter as the Red Queen, Alan Rickman as the Caterpillar, Anne Hathaway as the White Queen, Crispin Glover as the Knave of Hearts, Stephen Fry as the Cheshire Cat, Christopher Lee as the Jabberwock, and on and on and on. It promises to be a Burton fan's wet dream.

This is just the teaser trailer, but I think you might be able to find the full trailer out there somewhere.

And now Heath Ledger fans are wetting themselves all over because his last, last last film role is slated to be released in October of this year. This is the one he was making when he died, and apparently three different excellent actors (Johnny Depp, Jude Law, and Colin Farrell) were brought in to finish the part. Terry Gilliam directs The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus.

This one looks like pure Gilliam magic. And by that I mean one of his films that is gorgeous enough for non-Gilliam-understanding people to still like it. If nothing else, it'll introduce the wet-panty mob of Ledger fangirls to some excellent filmmaking. Too bad it may never be known as anything except Heath's Last Film.

First Day of School

2009-08-12T14:21:00.005+02:00

The kids went back to school today.

The Boy feels obliged to be upset that he's returning to an academic setting. In fact, last night he said "You shouldn't be excited; you're supposed to hate school, right?" But I think he is glad to be going back. He has a teacher he knows, and his cousin is in the same class. And much to his pleasure, they won't be focusing so much on cursive writing this year. (He still refuses to read if it's in cursive.) And Aunt D (his mother's sister) will be teaching 5th grade just a couple of rooms down the hall. Right now he's focused on the little things. He doesn't want to wear any of his new clothes yet, not until it's cold enough to wear pants. That way his tee shirts will still be new with the jeans. He also wants to make sure he gets his pencil sharpener instead of it becoming communal property in art class.

The Girl, on the other hand is bursting at the seams ready to get back to school, and can't seem to focus at all on any one thing. She starts middle school this year. And apparently unlike her home behavior (and that of her antisocial parents) she's a social butterfly at school. She's in gifted English which will suit her well as she's a voracious reader and so will be working with one of my college classmates. I'm sure they can talk about books together (if we can get the Girl to stop reading the Twilight series over and over again). I think having an advocate in the school will be good for the Girl, as I'm less than certain about the middle school. It is the sole reason the district has failed to meet AYP (yearly goals). She'll be taking French this year and she wants to join the Band.

I walked the kids to the intersection at Main Street this morning so I could take the boy's breakfast plate back to the house (pancakes took a little longer than I intended to make). That's where their paths diverged. And I didn't want to walk them any farther. They'll be going to and from school unaccompanied this year. When I turned to go back to the house, it was difficult not to turn around and be a parent all the way to the door.

But they're growing up. Fourth grade and middle school. Jesus. It all happens so fast. I wonder if all parents feel this empty aching in their chests every first day of school, or if I'm just being overly dramatic since I don't get to spend as much time with them as I'd like. It was wonderful spending what time I did have with them this summer.

Anyway I wish them all the success in the world as they begin the new school year, and I wish the same to everyone going back to school be they students or educators. As my former principal used to say when I was first teaching: have a great day and learn a lot.

GLBTQ Online High School

2009-08-08T18:13:00.003+02:00

I saw a post on Queerty a few days ago about an all online high school for LGBTQ students, and ever since, the concept has been on my mind. The basic idea of the school is a safe, inclusive environment for students who don't have access to a GLBTQ-focused school such as the ones in New York or Los Angeles. Because it's all online, students (as well as staff) can be from anywhere as long as they have an internet connection. Their Web site is here. Their mission statement:

The GLBTQ Online High School will provide a safe and welcoming educational community that provides a high quality, comprehensive college-preparatory online high school experience for students who are gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender or questioning their sexual orientation or gender using the best technology and techniques of distance education.

The folks a Queerty clearly have some questions about the lack of social interaction inherent in an all-online environment. And I get their point. These students might be separated by thousands of miles and live in different time zones. They won't have opportunities to participate in certain activities like sports teams or clubs that require physical proximity. Dances and pep rallies will be ungainly to organize. And for many people the social aspects of school are what is important. Many people look back on high school as the best years of their lives. And it's not that great paper they wrote for U.S. History class that they're thinking of when they reminisce about their glory days.

But this school isn't for those people.

For many students, too many students in my humble opinion, high school isn't about having a great time at dances or making that awesome play on the ball field or delivering that soliloquy with Oscar-worthy precision. For many students high school is about fear and torture. It's about just trying to get through the day without breaking down into sobs from the damaging remarks hurled at you between classes. It's about praying that you don't get cornered out of sight from any adults and pummeled into a bloody pulp. It's about feeling like there is nothing and no one that relates to you. It's about physical and social isolation, despite the fact that everyone else seems to be having a great time. It's about not living up to your potential because you're so focused on just surviving through the day.

So maybe GLBTQ Online High School isn't for everybody, not even every GLBTQ student. It's for those kids that really need it.

I was talking about the school with the Ex. She was against it from the start. Her argument is that it's just another form of segregation. It's too much like separate but equal. And sure, the idea has its faults. And it certainly isn't the ideal situation. In an ideal world non-heterosexual students would be educated alongside their hetero counterparts in an inclusive, even welcoming environment. But that certainly isn't the case in the U.S. and I imagine it's not the case in most places around the world.

But I don't think GLBTQ Online is a case of separate but equal. For starters, those segregated schools for African-Americans weren't organized or funded by the African-American community. They were more or less "provided" by the white community to fulfill the minimum requirements for educating Black students. They weren't equal because the white establishment didn't really want Black students to succeed.

In this case the organizers don't seem to be trying to segregate students. They're trying to provide education for students whose needs aren't being met by the current system. They're trying to create a safe place where students who have already been failed by the system won't have to fail themselves.

It's Not the Dress that Makes the Man

2009-08-05T15:48:00.002+02:00

Via Joe. My. God.:

Mayor Stu Rasmussen of Silverton, Oregon made history as the first openly transgendered mayor in the U.S. Now he's being criticized for his choice of attire after wearing a short skirt to an event.

Alright ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you, I know trans folks have the hardest row to hoe as far as acceptance goes. It's easy to get befuddled around transgendered people, especially when it comes to pronouns. But come on. The whole we don't mind if you wear dresses as long as you don't wear THAT dress argument is transparent.

I'm sure Mayor Rasmussen knew from the start that people would react negatively. That doesn't excuse his critics' behavior.

Today In Earbugs

2009-08-03T11:05:00.003+02:00

If you don't live in Spain or Sweden you might not have ever heard of Billie the Vision and the Dancers. At least, I had never heard of them until the Estrella Damm commercial came out in June. Now I can't get "Summercat" out of my head.

They've been around since 2004 ("Summercat" is from that first album.) Their music is worth a listen, especially if you might be the slightest bit inclined toward Swedish indie pop. Or maybe beer commercial songs. Or maybe the mild suggestion of ménage à trois. The commercial:

In a video on Youtube there seems to be some cross-dressing going on, which of course just endears them to me a little more.

You can't buy their music on Itunes. They give it away for free - actually they ask that you donate whatever it's worth to you on their Web site. They say the money goes straight to the band, circumnavigating the whole music industry, which also endears them to me just a little more.

Two Test Cases for the Episcopal Church

2009-08-03T10:28:00.003+02:00

In July the Episcopal church enacted new legislation to consecrate openly gay bishops. According to the Huffington Post, now one lesbian and one gay priest have been nominated for assistant bishop positions. From the Huffington Post:

An openly gay priest and an openly lesbian priest are among six nominees for assistant bishop positions in the Episcopal Church's Diocese of Los Angeles.
The church announced Sunday that Rev. John L. Kirkley of San Francisco and Rev. Canon Mary Douglas Glasspool of Maryland, along with four others, will be up for election in December by lay members and clergy.

Of course, if they are confirmed it could cause a major rift in the church. Back in 2003 when Rev. V. Gene Robinson was elected, four dioceses and several parishes separated from the Episcopal church. Now the haters have another excuse to break away.

Three Dead in Tel Aviv

2009-08-02T19:11:00.003+02:00

Via Big Gay News:

According to an article on Huffington Post, a gunman entered a Tel Aviv club for gay teens and opened fire, killing 3 and injuring at least 11 others. From The Huffington Post:

Police spokesman Micky Rosenfeld said it was "most likely a criminal attack and not a terror attack." Tel Aviv has been a target for Palestinian militants in the past.
He said the gunman burst into the basement of the Tel Aviv Gay and Lesbian Association and opened fire on a support group for gay teenagers.
Police are searching the area for the gunman, who fled the scene, he said. Roadblocks were set up.

At this point no one seems to know what exactly motivated the attack. But the impression seems to be that it was hate:

"This was a hate crime, a premeditated attack," witness Yaniv Weisman told Channel 10 TV. He said Cafe Noir, the basement club, was popular with youth.
"Those hurt were very young," he said.

My heart goes out to the victims and their families.

Albania!

2009-07-31T11:02:00.003+02:00

Via Big Gay News:

According to an Associated Press article yesterday, the Albanian government has proposed a law that would legalize same-sex marriages. From the AP:

Albania's governing Democrats have proposed a law allowing same-sex civil weddings in the small, predominantly Muslim country.
An announcement on the government Web site Thursday said the bill "may spark debate" but was needed to stop discrimination against gay couples. Current law only recognizes heterosexual marriages.
Prime Minister Sali Berisha said the move followed requests from rights groups. His Democrats, who control 74 of parliament's 140 seats, are expected to easily pass the law.

Sure, the move may have a great deal to do with Albania's desire to join the EU. Sure, the law may shock and appall the rather conservative and traditionally majority Muslim people of Albania. But when it comes to civil rights, doing the right thing shouldn't really be left to popular vote. (Civil rights legislation for African Americans would have never survived a popular vote in the U.S.) If Albania of all places can see the value of protecting the civil liberties of its people, you'd think the rest of the civilized world could follow suit.

Uh Americans, I think it might be your turn...

Blame it on the Gays

2009-07-31T10:40:00.002+02:00

Via See My Briefs:

Catchy and kind of funny too. His other stuff can be seen here.

Christ Died for our Dunkin' Donuts

2009-07-31T10:24:00.002+02:00

Via Joe. My. God.:

Don't you just love a good example of juxtaposition? Maybe not. Ok ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you, let me be an English geek for a minute and say how much I love a good example of juxtaposition. Like in these pairings of billboards as seen on Buzz Feed.

It's worth checking out the rest of the post. Sometimes the unintended message is so much better than the intended one.

I'm particularly fond of the revelation that folks in Tennessee seem focused primarily on Jesus and breasts, not necessarily in that order.

Today In Earbugs

2009-07-30T12:38:00.003+02:00

Via Joe. My. God.:

Alright I've now heard this song exactly once and it's irrevocably stuck in my head. I absolutely adored Mika's last album for its infectious hooks (cheesiness notwithstanding), its myriad allusions, and the fact that it made me just feel good over and over again. For you listening pleasure "We Are Golden":

Apparently I have to buy his new album now.

Si Te Gustan Los Chicos...

2009-07-29T11:35:00.002+02:00

Via Joe. My. God.:

Sometime during that long period where I wasn't blogging at all a bit of gay-related news happened back in El Paso, where I used to live. According to the El Paso Times a group of gay men were hanging out at Chico's Tacos when a confrontation erupted between them and security personnel.

Just a bit of background: Chico's is a major El Paso institution. They're open late and so draw a significant after-party crowd. It's like Waffle House in the American South or the Sauna in Sitges. It's the place where people go after the place where they were partying closes. I'm sure they're used to a little unruly behavior now and then.

So this group of gay men apparently were committing such wretched indiscretions as kissing (eeew!) and dancing like a ballerina (what a fag!). According to the El Paso Times:

One of the gay men, Carlos Diaz de Leon, said that on June 29 a guard called the five men "jotos" before saying he didn't allow "gay stuff" at the restaurant.

and

Both the guard and Diaz de Leon called police, who arrived about an hour later and threatened to charge the men for homosexual conduct under a statute ruled unconstitutional in 2003.

I can just imagine certain people I knew in the 915 dancing around in Chicos, especially after a few cosmos. (Although with one of them my imagination adds a pink tutu and a chiweenie.)

But the most recent news about the incident indicates the ultimate outcome was positive. Again from the El Paso Times:

The city of El Paso won't tolerate discrimination against anyone, including gays and lesbians.
That's the message from a resolution that the City Council passed unanimously Tuesday. It reaffirms the city's commitment to "acceptance, tolerance and diversity."

and

City Manager Joyce Wilson told the council that the Police Department has made a commitment to provide more training to its officers so they can respond better to situations like the one at Chico's.

I haven't heard yet from any of my friends if they were actually involved. So in the meantime I'm going to chalk this one up to a victory for LGBT rights in West Texas and keep giggling as I picture various amigos of mine prancing around half drunkenly in Chico's.

The Reception

2009-07-22T12:05:00.005+02:00

Alright, I've got a few spare moments to write about our reception while the husband and the boy are out grocery shopping:

We had it at Cafe Sitges right after the ceremony. It was absolutely amazing. The guys really outdid

themselves. It was exactly what we wanted: something simple, casual,

and friendly. The food was excellent, especially the marinated quail eggs. The layout was perfect for the number of people there. The decorations were lovely. I couldn't have been happier with the way the whole thing turned out.

I do

wish James and Andrew, the guys who run the cafe hadn't been quite so busy so they could hang out as well. But I can't compliment them enough on the way they hosted the event.

They were even able to bring in

the tunos we had heard play there before. So the music was excellent.

I can't remember everyone who stopped by (some were the husband's friends I didn't know and I think at least one was a crasher). But let me hit a few highlights (read here people who traveled to attend): Chuck I've already mentioned. He was the husband's former partner and long time close friend. He came in from Los Angeles. Like at the ceremony, he took video, which I may be able to post on Youtube later.

Michael, one of our earliest and dearest friends in Sitges came in from France where he's been working lately. Andrew, another early Sitgean friend arrived from the UK for a few days. John, one of the sweetest and best people we made friends with in Sitges, and without whom Sitges has been much less t

olerable also came in from the UK.

And lest I forget to mention her, Irene our first, good friend we met in Spain, came in from Cerdanyola. She was an absolute delight and really made the event special as did all of the great people who showed up.

I had two major fears about the reception going in: that people who don't really like us would come and be obnoxious, and that the open bar would entice some people to behave in an unpleasant manner. Both of these fears were totally unfounded. The day was so hot people mostly stuck to cava. An

d the few people I was unsure about coming didn't show up. Everyone was lovely, and I hope they all had a great time. I certainly did.

Gay Marriage

2009-07-17T13:59:00.007+02:00

As you know I got gay-married a couple weeks ago. Since then I've been on my honeymoon and the boy has been with us (more about that later). So I haven't had much time to actually blog.

The ceremony itself was simple, just like we wanted it to be. Actually, our intention was to have the ceremony just us and family. Of my family (a cast of thousands) only my son was able to come. My daughter decided she wanted to "stay home and be bored" this summer instead of spending it with me. I was admittedly a little hurt by her declaration. But I understand. She's 11, and right now the whole gay dad t

hing is a bit weird for her. And she's pretty much a major home body, (like her father) she'd be more than happy to pass the time holed up in her room reading rather than... well... just about anything. That and I believe she's still worried about her mother because of her earlier health issues. The rest of the family, as great as they have been, either aren't comfortable enough

with the whole gay thing or simply can't afford to travel right now.

Of the partner's family one brother was supposed to have attended. He was supposed to be our witness. He came. He fought with the partner. He declared his disapproval of our marriage (despite being [I can't say he's gay because I wouldn't want to share his personal business] himself ). He mooched room and board off of the partner for a couple more days. He left before the wedding. The partner's other brother couldn't make it because of family responsibilities. His parents frankly weren't told. His father is an anglican minister and has fought homosexuality his whole life (don't you just love the irony of a man with such hateful opinions having two non-heterosexual sons?).

So the wedding party included the partner and

me; my son; Chuck, the partner's former partner and long-time close friend; our gestor, a legal representative; and the judge. Chuck took video, and the boy took photos.

We wore white, but not suits. The judge passed his written speech to the gestor, who translated. He informed us of the laws, and then delivered our vows.

We exchanged rings. And then he pronounced us married.

I know I keep harping on this, but I just think that what happened next was truly spectacular. A couple of signatures were required and then the judge gave us our libro de familia, our family book. (It even has space to list ch

ildren produced by our marriage should such a miracle happen.) This is our official and legal marriage document. This is the exact same document that all married couples in Spain receive, regardless of their gender or sexual orientation.

Spain is probably one of the most fervently and rigidly Catholic countries in the world. But the Spanish are not going to let their own personal beliefs interfere with the basic civil rights of others. They do what's right despite what they've been taught by religious leaders.

The only issue was that we had written the wrong time down and showed up thirty minutes late thinking we were thirty minutes early. But that didn't cause any problems. The ceremony was thankfully short and sweet. From there we headed out to the reception.

Get me to the church on time

2009-07-03T11:49:00.001+02:00

Alright ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you, no more bitchy posts for a little while. I'm getting married today!

What were they thinking...

2009-07-03T11:33:00.005+02:00

when they elected Oklahoma Rep. Sally Kern? I'm sure you've seen this from CNN:

She claims she wasn't wasting taxpayer dollars on her proclamation of hate. I hope not, as there is allegedly still such a thing as separation of church and state. An elected official is supposed to represent her constituents. All of her constituents. But this bigoted move she claims is trying to encourage people to get back to moral values is not representing all the people. Hate, however, is not a moral value. She's obviously anti-gay and anti-muslim. It seems to me people who have beliefs such as hers (those who believe the world would be a better place if everybody would just accept jeebus as their personal lord and savior) should never hold public office.

Tuesday's Bitch

2009-06-30T16:38:00.004+02:00

One thing with which I am confronted every time I come to the U.S. for a visit is the great dumbing of America.

Right now I'm reading my daughter's copy of Northern Lights by Philip Pullman. It's the first book of a trilogy called His Dark Materials. You American-types will not have heard of Northern Lights. That's because the book's title as well as that of the film were changed to The Golden Compass for some reason. While one might assume they changed the title because of other books called Northern Lights, I have to dismiss this assumption. Because the Aurora have such an influence on the human consciousness there must be a great many books with that title. And Pullman's work earns its own distinction by (at the very least) being part of a trilogy and other merits evident to its readers. Anyone with more than a glancing knowledge of the book will realize how perfectly the actual title fits with the book's themes. On the other hand the American title, The Golden Compass is a poor fit for the book. The object referred to, called an alethiometer in the book, is only said to resemble a compass a couple of times. It is almost exclusively identified as the alethiometer. And, while it is important to the story, it doesn't bear anywhere near as much significance as the phenomenon of the northern lights. The simple truth is the publishers assume Americans are too dumb to recognize the difference. And I get the distinct impression they're right.

After all, Americans ate up the first book of another children's popular fantasy series. Everyone recognizes the name Harry Potter. But few people in the U.S. probably realize the title of Rowling's first book was Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Not Sorcerer's Stone. I find this one even more annoying. Not only did they change the title for no apparent reason, but the American title makes no sense whatsoever. One of the things Rowling does successfully in her books is to adapt existing myths, legends, and fantasy figures into her world. There are legends of a philosopher's stone. Stories exist of the alchemist Nicholas Flamel, who created the philosopher's stone. In the stories the stone has some of the attributes that Rowling gives it. Before her book was released in the U.S. did anyone ever hear of a sorcerer's stone? No. If you search for sorcerer's stone on Wikipedia (not that I recommend Wikipedia as an end all be all source of information), you are directed to an article about the philosopher's stone. Are Americans too stupid to know the difference?

It seems so.

Right now corporations are waging a war of misinformation on Americans concerning healthcare. They want everyone to believe a public health option is going to drive the country into debt. The very concept is absurd. If the existing insurance companies, drug companies, and healthcare providers are becoming ridiculously wealthy on the backs of Americans, why wouldn't the government be able to at least make their own program practical if not profitable? The simple truth is those corporations in control of American health care made too much money. And if they spread lies to make Americans afraid of socialized medicine, they can continue to grow their wealth.

The two things may seem unrelated. But they're not. Americans continue to allow big business to feed them lies and treat them like idiots in numerous aspects of their lives. If they treat our children like they can't possibly know the difference, what must they be doing to adults who've grown up on the teat of corporate misinformation?

Pride

2009-06-29T16:45:00.011+02:00

So, I wasn't there for Barcelona Pride this year. Nor Atlanta. Nor Anywhere else that has a huge major pride festival. I was, however, near enough to Lexington's pride festival to swing by. So the ex and I drove up with the kids Saturday to check it out. There weren't miles and miles of sponsor and vendor tents. There wasn't an endless parade with dykes on bikes and floats overflowing with drag queens.

But what was there was excellent. It was held outside the old courthouse downtown.

There was a handful of food tents and trailers, several vendors (mostly local businesses), and dozens of organizations. They also had games and activities for the kids and a stage for entertainment acts. We were there for an American Idol-type talent show. We grabbed some food and then bought tickets so the kids could do the velcro wall.

After that they played out the rest of their tickets trying to win stuffed monkeys at the darts game.

The ex eventually just made a donation to the organization running the darts to get the monkeys outright.

On the way back to the car we stopped by the

fountains in front of the new courthouse to let the kids play.

Gay Family Values

2009-06-27T05:38:00.003+02:00

Have you seen the videos by these guys yet?

They're a married gay couple in California with two kids. I picked the particular video I posted because they're reading a book I used to read to my kids all the time (they're a little old for it these days). If you have a YouTube account you should subscribe to these guys. Their videos are just great. The more people who see their example of a "normal" family who just happen to be gay the better.

My Dramily - Part V - The Party

2009-06-26T14:59:00.002+02:00

Maybe this should have been my first post. Lead with the positives, and all that.

The whole reason for going to Georgia this past week, as I've said, was for a celebration of my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. My sisters, no. 1 and no. 2 have been working hard for the past several months to make everything perfect. Sister no. 6 and I have done quite a bit too, just not so much. We functioned more as grunts than anything else.

My biggest job was to create a slide show of pictures from over the past 5+ decades. If you're extraordinarily bored you can see the silent beta version on YouTube. I think the final version turned out pretty well. At least I got positive feedback. No. 1 was in charge of the cake, invitations, and decorations. The room was gorgeous. As was the cake (a slight lean aside). No 2. (an extreme foodie and inveterate drama queen) did the rest of the food. She was prepared for about a small bazillion people. And all the copious food was delicious, even if we weren't able to eat half of it. Sister no. 6 helped everything run like clockwork (even if she and I preferred to stay mostly in the background). Our brother, no. 3 came as a guest rather than helping or even paying his share of the costs (He has some kind of juvenile sibling rivalry thing going on).

Quite a few people showed up. So many that the building's air conditioning was strained to battle the Georgia heat. We held the event at the church where my parents were married, in the same "fellowship hall" where they had their wedding reception.

It was a little bit like being haunted by the ghosts of my childhood. Most of the people there knew me by my childhood nickname, so I ended up responding to anything people called me, including my brother's name. Many of the attendees looked vaguely familiar, older versions of people I used to know well. I had to fight the defensive mode some of those familiar faces put me in. I don't know how much those people know about me these days, so I found myself playing the pronoun and dodge the question with vagueness games. "Oh yes, I do live in Spain... I just... love it there."

A few rare exemptions included my siblings and in-laws. I knew they knew I was gay, so I could be myself. It was nice hanging out with no. 2's husband. He's a nice, fairly open minded guy (and a hell of a better person than her ex). We spent a good bit of time in the kitchen getting food ready, bantering with innuendos that often left visitors to the kitchen bewildered. "How do you take your fruit?" "I usually give him a back massage first."

Also there was a minister who has performed the weddings of several members of my family and now presides over a church in Atlanta where many LGBT folks worship. He has talked to my mom about me. He pulled me aside at one point and we talked about how great my parents have been. It's easy to forget in all that closeted hell I went through when I was younger that when I did finally come out, my parents were spectacular. They're pretty much rural southerners with some backwards ideas about things like race, gender, and sexuality. It's just how they were raised. But when I came out, they decided to be supportive rather than losing me. Frankly I was amazed at the time. As I told the preacher, I fully expected to never see my family again. But instead they were accepting and told the rest of the family that if they couldn't be nice, they were welcome to stay away. I don't know if my parents know how much that meant to me. I truly feel lucky for that.

Anyway, I think the whole thing went off very well. As I think I've said before, I've never seen my somewhat antisocial father talk to so many people. And my mom was her eternal social butterfly self and seemed to enjoy the attention. I hope they enjoyed it.

Minute of Hate

2009-06-26T14:01:00.003+02:00

Via my friend John:

Here's one that's been creeping around the interwebs for the last few days. A video was posted on YouTube recently that shows members of Manifested Glory Ministries, a Connecticut church performing an exorcism on a 16-year-old boy. The "daemon" they're trying to cast out of the boy? Homosexuality.

From the Daily Mail:

But a church official this week denied that the teenager was injured or that the church is prejudiced.
'We believe a man should be with a woman and a woman should be with a man,' the Reverend Patricia McKinney said.
'We have nothing against homosexuals. I just don't agree with their lifestyle.'

McKinney also claimed the boy was 18. Do you think she would have lied if she didn't know that what she was doing was wrong? The video was taken down but you can still find copies of it out there:

LGBT and youth advocacy groups have decried the abuses of the church, but McKinney is doing the usual "We're just poor persecuted Christians" thing. Also from the Daily Mail:

McKinney also has a weekly radio programme. She talked on Wednesday's programme about being 'persecuted' in recent days but did not mention the video specifically.
'It's been a hard time for me, but I'm looking good and I'm standing strong because when you have a mandate like mine you're not going to say what you want without the adversary coming after you,' she said.
'If you are a true prophet you're not going to be popular with the people.'

I know I don't have to tell you how heinous this child abuse is. These people should be in jail.

Two Celebrity Deaths

2009-06-26T00:40:00.006+02:00

Today we saw the end of two major icons:

Michael Jackson died today of cardiac arrest. He was 50. The self-proclaimed King of Pop, Jackson was influential in dozens of genres of music over the last few decades.

From TMZ:

Michael suffered a cardiac arrest earlier this afternoon at his Holmby Hills home and paramedics were unable to revive him. We're told when paramedics arrived Jackson had no pulse and they never got a pulse back.

A source tells us Jackson was dead when paramedic

s arrived. A cardiologist at UCLA tells TMZ Jackson died of cardiac arrest.

Once at the hospital, the staff tried to resuscitate him but he was completely unresponsive.

We're told one of the staff members at Jackson's home called 911.

La Toya ran in the hospital sobbing after Jackson was pronounced dead.
Michael is survived by three children: Michael Joseph Jackson, Jr., Paris Michael Katherine Jackson and Prince "Blanket" Michael Jackson II.

And in case you haven't heard Farrah Fawcett, the actor who's hair defined a decade also died today at 62. She had been battling cancer.

From The Huffington Post:

Fawcett, 62, died Thursday morning at St. John's Health Center in Santa Monica, nearly three years after being diagnosed with anal cancer. Ryan O'Neal, the longtime companion who returned to her side when she became ill, was with her.

"After a long and brave battle with cancer, our beloved Farrah has passed away," O'Neal said. "Although this is an extremely difficult time for her family and friends, we take comfort in the beautiful times that we shared with Farrah over the years and the knowledge that her life brought joy to so many people around the world."

My Dramily - Part IV - The After-Blowup Blowup

2009-06-25T18:47:00.003+02:00

One of the themes I like to explore in my writing is how violence begets violence. So here's a little bit of family drama that came from someone being upset about drama. After my nephew blew up at my mother for referring to the similarity between his and his father's behavior, she was really unhappy. She couldn't stop rehashing it over and over. And honestly not too many of my family members are exactly very good at letting things go.

The siblings gathered in the kitchen to finalize the financial end of the 50th anniversary celebration. My mother was present. And my dad came into the kitchen to tell us about his experience at the party.

He thoroughly enjoyed it. I've never seen him talk to so many people (I do get my antisocial behavior naturally). There was one small incident that bothered him. He had been sitting at a table eating and socializing and decided to get some more food. When he returned to his seat, the husband of one of my mother's best friends had taken it. No big deal, right? So Daddy stood up and began talking to someone by the screen where we were showing a slide show of family photos. Then the same man who had (rather rudely) taken his seat (rather rudely) asked Daddy to move as he was standing in front of the screen.

Daddy wouldn't have minded moving, of course. And he did move. But he wanted to share with us the impolite way the guy had asked him. It was the only thing about the whole party my (often cantankerous) dad had any problem with.

However, this just happened to be the wrong moment to share the story. As Mama was still fuming about her grandson's recent blow up. She stood up and shouted at my father, "Don't tell that story again!" She (rather like my nephew) stormed out of the room yelling at my dad.

Mama was tired. It had been a long weekend. And I'm sure she was not only upset because of what had happened with my nephew, but also emotionally fragile given that many of her children and grandchildren were about to head to their own homes that day. Unlike my father and me, she adores the company of others. But anger is cyclical and self-feeding. Sometimes when the family has been together for a while we start quarreling. It was a perfect time to wrap things up and let everyone go back to their corners to nurse their wounds.

My Dramily - Part III - The Father's Day Blowup

2009-06-25T16:35:00.008+02:00

My siblings and I, as well as our children haven't always made the best choices when it comes to partners. Despite the fact that my parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary last week, we haven't been able to follow their example of longevity when it comes to marriage. Sister no. 1 is still married to her first husband (an abusive alcoholic) and claims she may make it to 50 years so long as they remain living in two different states. Sister no. 2 is on her second marriage, the first having been about 13 different kinds of asshole (more about that in a minute). Brother no. 3 is also on his second marriage. His first was an adulterous control freak with a Napoleon complex (their third child is named for her lover at the time and current husband). His second is taller, amazingly enough more controlling, and I hope I never have to hear about her sex life. Brother no. 4 died in infancy. Brother no. 5 is me; my first marriage didn't last because of irreconcilable similarities (we both like men). Sister no. 6 is on her first marriage. You can read about her here. Of the 5 nieces and nephews who have married, 3 are divorced.

Now about no. 2's first husband. For starters we was controlling. I can't tell you how many jobs he forced her to quit because he didn't like the lack of control he had over her life. When their three children played outside at my parents' house he would freak out, allegedly because they might get hurt. And abusive. She used to say things like, "I don't like red roses because [asshole] bought me a dozen roses the first time he hit me." The first time? Sheesh. Despite keeping her from working, he seemed unable to hold down a job himself. He often claimed he quit because of personal differences with his bosses. They tended to be under the impression they fired him because of stealing. There were other shady happenings, mysterious packages delivered to the house and the like. They never had money in the way gambling addicts and junkies never have money, but my sister seemed unaware of exactly why. They frequently moved from house to house through an endless series of evictions, foreclosures, and bankruptcies. When my sister finally got rid of him, he left her in horrible, horrible debt, since by that point everything had to be in her name. I have no idea what other indignities the family had to suffer under that monster. He did however have a lovely singing voice.

Suffice it to say no. 2's middle child doesn't like being compared to his father. At my parents' 50th celebration a well-meaning guest approached my nephew to say how much he looked like his father. He grunted in response. I was actually proud of him for his restraint, knowing how much he hates his father.

The next day was Father's Day. We gathered at my parents' house for a lunch of leftover party food. While the adults were finishing up lunch, the kids went outside to play, including my nephew's son. When the nephew saw his son at the top of the slide he freaked out (much as his father would have done). He yelled, "who told my son he could go outside?"

He dragged the boy from the playground equipment, brought him back to the kitchen, and returned to his food. My mother began talking to him about how difficult it was to watch when his father behaved the same way. Truthfully, many members of my family are control freaks. I've seen several of them spazz over such trivial things (and have struggled with similar outbursts of control freakishness myself). The nephew paused, glaring at his food. "I am so sick of coming here and being compared to that man," he said, the anger in his voice eerily similar to that of his father. He turned to his wife, "Get your stuff. We're leaving." He stormed out in a huff, timid wife and child in tow (like his father did many times when his authority was challenged).

My mother was upset. She couldn't stop going on and on about it. Sister no. 2 tried to explain how much he hated his father. How he wanted to find the man only to make him pay for the Hell he put his family through. How he had serious anger toward the man. And how he couldn't stand even being related to his father.

His rage is pretty much justified. And I understand how he probably hasn't had enough time to learn how to manage those feelings, much less attain anything close to forgiveness. The poor guy is stuck with a physical appearance that resembles that of his father. He never had significant role models other than his father and so exhibits behaviors like his. He even sounds like his dad when he sings.

I know he hates the man so much that he can only respond to comparisons with anger, but many of the similarities are beyond his control. And he hasn't had enough time or doesn't have enough control over his own emotions to prevent those that are. Nobody thinks he's his father made over. But I hope someday he learns to accept those elements of his appearance and personality that other people see as like his dad. And if he can't learn to accept them, maybe he can at least learn to live with them and/or learn to behave differently. Responding to those comparisons with anger certainly seems to only result in behaving more like his dad.

My Dramily - Part II - The Custody Battle

2009-06-25T15:01:00.003+02:00

Another aspect of my ludicrous family involves a 2-year-old child whom nobody seems to really want to (or be able to) raise yet several people seem intent to fight over. The characters:

My niece is deployed in Kuwait right now. She's in the Army. She's stuck overseas for the next several months and thereby can't do much to take care of her daughter right at the moment. Before the Middle East, she was stationed somewhere in Alaska. She has/did have legal custody of her daughter. Like many young people she seems prone to making foolish mistakes. Like hooking up with the father of her child, having a child with another young and foolish person (USE CONDOMS, PEOPLE), and believing the Army's rhetoric about how they'll make your life all better if you join up. She wants to be a mother and take care of her daughter but can't for obvious reasons. She claims the Army has refused to offer her any legal help despite their willingness to ship her thousands of miles from her daughter.

Her former partner (I'm not certain if they were married) was living with her and their daughter in Alaska. He was also in the Army, but was discharged for undisclosed reasons. His employment status is unknown and/or sketchy at best. My mother claims he hasn't sent any child support except for a dress. He has made no effort to see or communicate with his daughter and expects the girl's caregivers to make the effort to contact him. Despite all of this, he is fighting for custody of his daughter. The impression I get is that he simply doesn't want to have to pay child-support.

My mother has documented legal custody of the child until my niece returns. As far as parenting skills go, she must be pretty good at it. She raised me after all. However, she has, over the years, raised five kids and helped raise a dozen or so grandchildren and half as many great-grandchildren. She also has bad knees and the usual health issues of a person of her age. A 2-year-old is probably the last thing she needs right now.

The child is living (mostly) with my sister. Not my brother who is the child's grandfather. He is only marginally involved with the family in any way. She seems to have taken excellent care of the girl. According to my mother, when the child arrived, she was given to screaming tantrums, profanity that would make a sailor blush, and a few bizarre behaviors indicative of exposure to situations a 2-year-old shouldn't be exposed to. These days she appears to be a fairly normal, fairly well-adjusted child. She intermittently calls my sister Mama and/or her first name as would most girls her age with their primary care-givers. She doesn't like talking on the phone. And she is permanently attached to a small collection of bean-bag-types stuffed animals.

Add to all this mess a fourth person, an "older friend" of the father who is helping him lay claim to the child. My family refers to this man as a child molester, although I'm fairly certain they have no evidence. What they've heard is that he trades sexual favors for financial help and friendship with a mixed group of 20-somethings including the father. He seems intent on helping the father, despite having no legal "dog in the fight" as it were. The father claims he sent child support money to this man (instead of the child's actual care-givers) who then used it to buy clothes for her. He apparently offered to fund legal council for the father as well as travel expenses when he comes to get his daughter.

To complicate matters further there is a "child advocate" involved whose most helpful advice so far has been to suggest that my sister call the father, put him on speaker phone, and follow the little girl around in lieu of the supervised visitation he's entitled to.

Now the father claims he's won the custody battle, despite the fact that the custodial parent is deployed and it's technically illegal for them to take any action against her while she's overseas. And usually courts in the U.S. tend to be reluctant to take children away from their mothers (or their representatives) unless abuse or neglect is proven. He's coming to Georgia in a few months to collect his daughter with the help of the alleged child molester. My family is horrified. I told them that they had legal documents indicating that the clild was to remain with them until my niece returns from Kuwait. That they didn't have to do anything he told them to until they were served legal papers. They go on and on and on about the whole situation, but won't bother retaining legal council. What my mother was willing to do was to email the office of Alaska Governor Sarah Palin. They were most conciliatory but not at all helpful with their form response. Go figure.

Rien à être fait (or however Becket spelled that). I don't really know why I'm sharing all of this. Except that it's sad. Divorce is heinously difficult, especially for children the involved. There's no need to make it worse. Sure, children are resilient. My great-niece seems to be doing well under the care of my sister. But all this battling and back-biting seems unnecessary. And why doesn't the Army step in to support its personnel? Or just let her go if they're not going to help her?

My Dramily - Part I - Le Petit Prince

2009-06-23T18:08:00.005+02:00

Hello again ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you. Sorry for the long silence, but I was at my parents' house for their 50th wedding anniversary, which allowed for very little time for quiet reflection (and/or internet access). I want to talk about several happenings among my absurdly dramatic family. And since it bears connections to one of the themes I hoped to talk about when I started this little blog (parenting) I first want to talk about my nephew.

At least one of my siblings refers to my youngest nephew with the (not always justified) moniker The Prince. He's 5, and he is my parents' youngest grandchild and his other grandparents' first grandchild, and is thereby somewhat spoiled. He also has the misfortune of living within walking distance of my parents' house and so has ample opportunity to pursue said spoiling. My sister works obscene hours as a nurse (bless her) and tries to work against the damaging effects of the grandparents and other influences. But her husband is a giant child himself and actually manages to make things worse by pestering the child instead of parenting him. No one, not her husband, not either of their parents, nor anyone else in the family supports her in her efforts at discipline.

An example: Our first night at my parents' house my nephew and his father came over for dinner. We had roast, potatoes, and fresh vegetables from my dad's garden. Additionally my mother fixed miniature pizzas especially for the nephew. (When we cook for my kids we try to include foods they will eat, but we don't cook separate dinners just for them. And if they don't like what is prepared they are welcome to politely choose to not eat.) When he saw the pizzas he threw a walleyed fit, screaming they were the wrong ones and demanding that she make something else for him. When he was told nothing else was available, the fit became a violent tantrum with screaming, threats of violence, and raiding the pantry for cans of Spaghetti-O's, which he demanded that my mother prepare for him.

The fit continued through dinner. And needless to say he didn't join us, nor did anyone do anything to stop him. After dinner while the family retired to the living room to watch television, he raided the bucket of snacks my mother keeps in her kitchen. Another fit followed because he couldn't find the particular "gummies" he wanted. He screamed for someone find them for him until his father did so.

Throughout all of this I stayed quiet. His father was present, so I figured it wasn't my job. However, no one else seemed willing to do anything about it.

Another: My father has planter boxes on either side of his front steps. This year he has marigolds in them. The flowers are dying because the nephew urinates on them daily. No one seems to be willing to do anything about that either.

Yet another: The last time we visited my son spent the night at their house. The nephew jumped on him, threw toys at him, and hounded him late into the night. My brother-in-law did nothing to stop it. My son came away saying he never wanted to visit again. This time my son did spend the night again and came away with the impression the behavior situation is getting better (although he did get smacked with a marble slide, whatever that is).

On another day the nephew was throwing another fit because he wanted his game from his house and no one would unlock the door for him. My mother was on the phone and couldn't hear the person she was talking to. I went outside for a cigarette. This time his mother was present. She took him outside for a time-out until he calmed down. His response? He refused to sit on the bench where she put him, screamed, threatened violence, and attached himself to her leg so she couldn't leave him. He bellowed that he didn't want to be alone and she always stayed with him through his time-outs.

I know it wasn't really my place, but I stepped in. I told him that I was outside, so he wouldn't be alone. I told him to let go of his mother and do what she told him. When he started to argue with me, I refused to engage. I placed myself between him and his mother. I waited a few yards away while he calmed down.

When the screaming subsided, I spoke to him. I tried to keep my voice calm since he was still visibly upset. I validated his feelings (something I've never heard any of the adults in his life do). And I asked him to think about other people's feelings, especially when he yells and screams at them. The idea that other people might have feelings was completely foreign to him. I know a few adults who aren't that great at perspective-taking, but a five-year-old ought to be able to at least acknowledge that other people have an internal life even if he hasn't mastered empathy yet. We talked about how it was easier to comply with people's wishes when they asked you in a nice way. And I modeled how he could ask someone for help in retrieving his game.

He said, "Uncle, will you go with me to my house and help me unlock the door so I can get my game?" Well, I couldn't very well say no then, could I? Much to my surprise, he went inside and used the modeling I had given him to politely ask his mother to borrow the house key and to ask my son to accompany him to find the game.

I'm not the best parent in the world by any stretch of the imagination. I make gross errors all the time. I tend to fall on the permissive side of the permissive-authoritarian scale of parents. And I'm not always a great master of my own emotions. But I think my "little prince" of a nephew might not be such a holy terror if the adults in his life were just a little more consistent, responsive, and better role models for his behavior. I know I didn't "fix" him in a few minutes. His parents (and grandparents) have more work to do to be positive influences in his life. But, he didn't throw a fit in my presence for the rest of our visit, and I'd like to think I had something to do with that.

MOW

2009-06-15T16:06:00.003+02:00

Via Joe. My. God.:

I unfortunately won't be in the country. But the March on Washington needed to happen:

Someone Else 2012

2009-06-13T21:11:00.002+02:00

Via The Huffington Post:

What the FUCK?

The Obama administration has gone from annoying inaction to downright animosity. The administration has filed a motion to dismiss the case of a married California couple who are challenging the 1996 [sic] Defense of Marriage Act. In their incendiary filing the Obama administration makes the usual one-man-one-woman bullshit arguments we've seen too much of recently.

From The Huffington Post:

U.S. Department of Justice lawyers argued that the act _ known informally as DOMA _ is constitutional and contended that awarding federal marriage benefits to gays would infringe on the rights of taxpayers in the 30 states that specifically prohibit same-sex marriages.
"The president made very explicit and emphatic campaign promises that he opposes DOMA and would provide leadership calling on Congress to repeal it," said Jennifer Pizer, marriage project director for Lambda Legal. "This brief is not consistent with that promise."
Justice spokeswoman Tracy Schmaler said Friday that the department is abiding by its standard practice of defending existing law and that the filing doesn't mean Obama has changed his mind about wanting to see gay couples win federal recognition.
"Until Congress passes legislation repealing the law, the administration will continue to defend the statute when it is challenged in the justice system," Schmaler said.
More than four months into his first term, Obama has been under growing pressure from gay rights activists who supported his candidacy to move forward on repealing DOMA and the "don't ask, don't tell" policy that prevents gays from serving openly in the military.

That's it. I'm done. If Obama doesn't take immediate action to undo the damage his people have done. If he doesn't start fulfilling his campaign promises. Then I'm going to do whatever I can to help someone else win the presidency from him in 2012. We had enough of lies, deciet and double-talk during the last administration.

This Is How I Remember U.S. History

2009-06-13T19:45:00.001+02:00

Via Slog:

Third Gender

2009-06-08T20:52:00.004+02:00

Via Current:

This fascinating video is about an intersex person named Adele. She was born with ambiguous genitals. Her parents and doctors chose to make her male. And so she underwent a series of operations to make her physically look like a male. Now, as an adult she identifies as mostly female. She can have an operation to make her genitals more like those of a cisexual woman, but she hopes that eventually the medical profession will allow intersex children to choose their gender for themselves and that society as a whole will accept intersex individuals as what they are.

Before I saw this I had no idea that there are 46 different intersex conditions. I also had no idea that "All angels are intersex, they're hermaphrodite." I'm also pretty amazed at how much she had to fem up to impress upon the doctor the extremity of her situation. It just goes to show that we as a society have a long way to go.

My Balcony Garden

2009-06-08T16:19:00.008+02:00

So, for the last couple of days I've been working on my garden. And by garden I mean a small collection of containers on my balcony. I miss having a yard sometimes. I miss cutting grass like I miss having a hole in my head, but everything else was nice. There's something satisfying about having something that you planted grow. I've done the best I can with the space I have.

There are four window box-type things with herbs. One is devoted entirely to mint. (Not because I need that much mint, but mostly because mint just takes over and swallows up anything else you put by it. We bought several plants yesterday, and the boxes are looking not so bereft as they were before.

And then the rest of the pots all have plants I've migrated out of the window boxes, stuff I've adopted (and/or stolen) from other people, and the hydrangea I won at Drag Queen Bingo at Monroes (who said all you ever get is shite wine and porn).

It's not much, but it's a little bit of beauty I've helped contribute to in this tired old queen of a world. And yeah, I know gardening is a hobby for septuagenarians and those on permanent disability. But I like it, dammit. It's something to do that's not drinking or hanging out on the beach. And if I've put in a day's work (or more if you count the time it took for the rotten kitchen scraps to become compost) to make my balcony pretty it doesn't require any lip from the likes of you whippersnappers.

What the Partner Does for a Living

2009-06-07T20:03:00.003+02:00

Via See My Briefs:

This is what the partner's conference calls sound like. This is what I listen to all day long as I'm writing to you, ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you:

Gay-Marriage Bans Increase HIV Infection Rates

2009-06-06T14:53:00.002+02:00

Via Gay News Blog:

According to an Emory University study, increases in HIV infection rates can be tied to the atmosphere of intolerance that surrounds bans on same-sex marriage. The Southern Voice quoted a press release stating:

“In the first study of the impact of social tolerance levels toward gays in the United States on the HIV transmission rate, the researchers estimated that a constitutional ban on gay marriage raises the rate by four cases per 100,000 people.”

This makes sense. When HIV/AIDS was first spreading like wildfire through the gay community it was in a country that still persecuted gays. People were made to feel like they had to hide what they were and what they did. That sort hostile environment leads to risky behavior.

Hugo Mialon, one of the economists who conducted the research said, "Intolerance is deadly. Bans on gay marriage codify intolerance, causing more gay people to shift to underground sexual behaviors that carry more risk."

About Drinking Too Much

2009-06-06T13:40:00.002+02:00

Once an old friend asked me, "What do you do in Spain on a weekend?" I went into a spiel (probably longer than she really wanted to hear) about the beaches, the restaurants, and of course the bars. The truth is there's not much to do here in Sitges that doesn't involve drinking. The beaches have churringitos (bar/snack huts). The cafes are licensed bars. In fact a friend told me the government license for a cafe and a bar are exactly the same. It's not uncommon to have a drink with lunch and go back to work. And if you don't order wine at dinner, the wait staff will give you strange looks before going to get your bottle of water.

That said, Spanish culture generally frowns on public drunkenness. People drink, a lot, but usually only the tourists drink to the point of stumbling in the streets.

Here in Sitges it's easy to get into the habit of drinking too much. I've witnessed new expats struggling with the element of the culture that encourages constant consumption of alcohol. I've experienced it myself. That first year we lived here there were nights I don't remember. I've spent mornings trying to piece together the events of the preceding evening through a hangover haze. I've awakened with concussions, black eyes, and cuts (apparently self-inflicted) that I couldn't explain.

Not to mention, I have a history of depression. And alcohol and depression mix together to form a lovely cycle of self-loathing and self-medication that isn't easily escaped.

So this year I decided to change. I looked into AA, and there are English-speaking groups that meet in the Barcelona area. But that particular blend of group dependancy and religious propaganda doesn't appeal to me. And maybe it's just a form of denial, but I don't think I need to stop drinking altogether. What I do need to do is to figure out when to stop. I can have a few drinks on occasion and suffer no ill consequences. The problem is when I get out there and forget to call it a night.

Add to all this, the partner was told by his doctor that he had to quit drinking. At first it was one drink or wine of beer every now and then is still alright. Then a couple of months ago the doctor said his liver counts were dangerous and he had to quit completely. That hasn't been easy for him. I think his problem with alcohol is worse than mine.

He was doing great for a while. He replaced alcohol with Bitter Kas, a Pepsi product served as an aperitif that tastes something like a cross between cherry cola and windex served in an unwashed anus. And when we went out to bars without Bitter Kas he drank fruit juice or water.

But this week he had a major presentation for work that involved traveling to Poland. He had a (just one) drink each of the three nights leading up to his trip, a couple of drinks the first night of the trip, and an absolute meltdown last night. He called me this morning to apologize for not calling me last night. He did call me last night blitzed out of his head on that lovely Polish vodka. He slept through a visit to Auschwitz this morning and woke up with a monster hangover not certain he hadn't drank his way out of a job last night.

Not that I haven't done incredibly stupid things under the influence. I once wound up in a (allegedly) heterosexual sadist's flat tied up, tortured, and robbed. I once passed out standing in front of the toilet while in the middle of urinating. Concussions and black eyes and wet pants, oh my! Not to mention the usual instances of technicolor vomiting, public ludicrousness, and blistering hangovers.

So ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you, I don't really know why I'm confessing all this to you. Except to say this is what I'm doing today. I'm searching online for alternatives to Alcoholics Anonymous. I'm wading through all the quackery and psychobabble and mail order 12-step programs. It's not looking very hopeful yet.

Did You See This?

2009-06-03T12:28:00.002+02:00

Via Slog:

Is Cheney trying to keep his hand in for some reason? He just won't go away. And to be honest, if he's going to say things like, "I think people ought to be free to enter into any kind of union they wish, any kind of arrangement they wish," I don't mind so much if he does stick around. It's a message people, especially Republicans in the U.S. need to hear. The problem, as Andrew Sullivan points out, is he was a part of an administration that made strides against LGBT rights.

The more serious problem is the Obama administration doesn't seem to be doing much to counteract what the previous administrations did against LGBT people. I know he doesn't want to make under-researched policy choices (like Clinton) and be forced to backpedal. But come on, there were campaign promises made to the LGBT community. People voted for him because of those promises. What do we have to show for it several months in?

Dear god, I hope Cheney doesn't start looking like a viable moderate candidate in the near future. Didn't we already have enough of the Dark Lord while he was Bush's V.P.?

Drama Queen

2009-05-31T10:41:00.005+02:00

Every little town in the U.K. has an amateur dramatics group. Kind of like the community theater groups in the U.S. but they tend to be much more involved. Every Christmas they organize the pantomime, an elaborate, stylized comic play with drag, over-the-top characters, and audience participation that is a long-standing tradition for Brits. And they host plays, monologues, fundraisers and other events throughout the year. Some of the fundraising events resemble live game shows like Who's Line is it Anyway, Twenty Questions, and Call My Bluff.

Enough British ex-pats reside here in Sitges for us to have our own theater group. It's appropriately titled the Sitges English Theatre Company. There are a few Americans involved as well as Catalans, French, and Dutch, so maybe the English part refers to language more than country of origin. I've been meaning to join the group for a while.

In high school I was involved in drama, both in school and with community theater. Yes, I was a drama fag. I loved it. Even though I had been in band, scouting, church, and other group activities all my life, drama was the first time I felt any sense of belonging. There was a certain camaraderie involved in drama. A sense of community, familiarity. Here was a group of people who accepted me without judgement, who engaged with me intellectually and artistically.

I wasn't much of an actor at the beginning, but I was one of the youngest in the group. I did get better parts over the next couple of years. But the number of lines I had was never very important. What I loved was that group dynamic. The team-building and trust activities. The work days building sets and learning technical aspects of theater. The quiet conversations in the green room waiting for the next big scene.

So maybe I could find some of that again with Sitges ETC. I've seen a few productions, but last night was the first time I participated in something. Last night we played Twenty Questions in front of a live audience at the Hotel Liberty. You know, the game where you have to guess something. You're told if it's an animal, vegetable, mineral, or abstract and you ask 20 yes or no questions to try to guess what it is. Is it larger than a bread box? Is it human? Is it manufactured? I was the youngest person on the panel and the only American.

I had a great time. I was admittedly quite nervous at first. I haven't been on a stage in years, and I'm fairly shy by nature. But it was a small, comfy audience, quite friendly. I thoroughly enjoyed the evening. Here in Sitges, there often aren't many things to do for an English speaker that don't involve the beach or the bars. It was a refreshing change of pace. I just hope they enjoyed my involvement as much as I enjoyed being involved. I did exchange contact information with several people concerning upcoming events. We'll see.

Talking Equality

2009-05-30T12:04:00.002+02:00

Via Slog:

I think I've posted one of this guy's videos before. But I think what he's doing is important. His ideas are solid and his arguments reasonable. He blogs over at Waking Up Now.

It's true. I keep hearing the same bigoted claims against gay-marriage over and over and over again. It's nice to have a voice of reason out there.

How the Mormon Stole Everything

2009-05-28T14:38:00.003+02:00

Via Joe. My. God.

Really, really NSFW:

More Gay & Lesbian Videos At LogoOnline.com

This is from the Big Gay Sketch Show from Logo, and it is hilarious. Jonny McGovern narrates this bit of comic genius.

Barcelona Wins, I'm at a Loss

2009-05-28T12:42:00.006+02:00

I don't know much about football (American football either, but that's not what I'm talking about). Seriously, back when I was teaching a student wrote a persuasive paper on the infamous off-sides rule. Which apparently is a very hot debate topic for football fans. Although he was very passionate about his argument and had researched famous instances where the off-sides rule had changed the course of history, he might as well have written the paper in Cantonese. It failed to convince me not only to agree with his side, but it also failed to convince me that the topic was worth persuading someone over. I apparently just don't get it. I simply wasn't part of his audience.

So it comes as no surprise that I failed to recognize the importance of last night. Yesterday F C Barcelona played Manchester United in some kind of very important Champion's League Final thingy. And they won, apparently. According to an AP article this is a major feat and the first time a Spanish team has ever done so along with winning some other really, really important titles earlier this year. It seems to me rather like professional wrestling where every match is for some kind of title and the fans seem to be under the impression the fate of the world rests in the balance.

From the Washington Examiner:

Eighty-five police officers were hurt out of 153 overall injuries and 134 people were arrested during celebrations of Barcelona's victory over Manchester United in the Champions League final, according to police.
Arrests were made mainly for public disorder, vandalism and disobeying police orders in Barcelona, while 15 other people were apprehended in the Catalan towns of Lleida, Tarragona, Girona, Granollers and Igualada.
Trouble had also flared at previous celebrations in Barcelona earlier this month after the team won the Copa del Rey and then the Spanish league title.
An estimated 100,000 jubilant supporters gathered at the Canaletes fountain on Las Ramblas, the traditional site for celebrating the club's wins, soon after the team won 2-0 over 2008 Champions League winners Man United in Rome on Wednesday.

I'm sorry. I just don't get it. Why destroy things to celebrate a football game? I can tell you from an eyewitness account that police shut down the center of Barcelona to try to control the rioting. Cars were smashed. Tear gas was used. People were urinating on one another in drunken celebration. I really, really don't get it. They were doing this because they were happy their team won?

And why do I have this eyewitness account?

The partner had a major teleconference yesterday for an account someone else in his company is trying to win. Because this teleconference involved at least four sites around the world, the partner was chosen to represent the European site in Barcelona. And because Americans are so effing stupid about the rest of the world they scheduled this meeting when it was convenient for them. Which meant he had to be in the Barcelona office for the teleconference at 9 p.m. And to top it off, the Americans were running late and had to push the meeting back an hour. Never mind the people in Kuala Lumpur, Santo Domingo, and Barcelona have to work ridiculous hours and have to tack on an extra hour just for them.

So the partner finished up well after midnight (about the time the trains stop running that could have taken him home). It seems someone at the American site decided to ramble on for an hour and fifteen minutes. The whole point of the partner's presence at the teleconference was so they could say (at the end) "and we also have people joining us from the other sites." The whole effing thing was another pointless example of how idiot Americans think they are the center of the world. And people wonder why I'm embarrassed to admit I'm from the U.S.

So the partner made it back to Cerdanyola, the little town we used to live in where the closest train station is to his office. From there he planned to take a night bus into Barcelona. And then from Barcelona he could take another night bus to Sitges. The night bus from Cerdanyola never made it to its destination.

This is where the blocked off streets and riots come in. The bus stopped as close as it could to Plaza Catalunya. The partner was left to his own devices in the center of the chaos. He was terrified. When he called me it was approaching 2 a.m. I could hear shouting, singing, and the occasional reports of fireworks in the background.

Not only could the Cerdanyola night but not make it to its destination, but the Sitges night bus couldn't make it to its origin. The partner had no idea how to find where the night bus would be able to go. He decided to get a hotel room. After five tries he finally found a place in all the chaos that had a vacancy. They gave him a key and he went to his room. Someone was sleeping in the bed. Apparently the hotel had been the scene of some intense partying as well. They said they didn't have another room. Finally after 4 a.m. he found a hotel with an empty room. In another hour the trains would start running again. But by that time he was desperately tired and his feet were blistered from extensive walking in dress shoes.

It is 1:37 p.m. right now. He still hasn't made it home from a teleconference more than 12 hours ago that he didn't really need to attend. But hey, at least Barcelona won whatever it is that they won.

I knew I Loved These Guys

2009-05-27T16:42:00.002+02:00

Garfunkel and Oats recently posted a pro-gay marriage music video. It's a response to Pat Robertson's claim that legalizing gay marriage would inevitably lead to legalizing sex with ducks.

Enjoy.

Wedding Update

2009-05-27T15:18:00.002+02:00

My big accomplishment yesterday was to make invitations for our wedding reception. My whole idea for this wedding has been to keep it simple. I don't want a big ceremony. I don't want a big to do. I just want to be able to say comfortably that this is the man I love and want to be with. I've thrown my lot in with this guy and I intend to stick with it.

For the reception, we didn't want a meal or anything. We just wanted a small cocktail party-type thing where our guests could drop by and maybe offer some congratulations and have a glass of cava or two. We don't need gifts. Our tiny apartment runneth over already. We don't need a cake. I'm fat enough, thank you very much.

But these things are not very simple, are they? There are traditions involved. There are expectations. I looked up wedding invitations online. You wouldn't believe the ridiculously formal, sappy, overblown crap people put on their wedding invitations. Stuff like, "As we decide to forsake the world for one another and join in eternal bliss, Joan and Jim wish to have the pleasure of your attendance at our wedding to be held at three o'clock on July eighth at Gothic Catholic Church with a reception to follow at Beamer's Country Club." Ick.

Let's just tell people about it. Then they can come if they want to. But no, the partner thought we needed to hand out some kind of card so people would remember. Fine, I'll just print out the details on a quarter sheet of paper and we can pass them out like that guy who stands at the intersection of Parellades and Bonaire distributing adds for the various bars and restaurants in town. Apparently it's just not done that way.

I sure as shit wasn't going to have wedding invitations with all that lace and bows and pictures of rings and crap. So we went to a paperia (paper store). The partner wanted something off-white. I found some lovely beige-colored paper we could use. But that wasn't fancy enough. We ended up with some bifold card stock in a marbled cream color with matching envelopes.

Yesterday I set about trying to design the bloody things. I asked the partner if I should include an image on the front of the cards. He suggested "that picture with the two men's hands touching." I told him I didn't think Michelangelo's "Creation of Adam" was exactly appropriate to the occasion. I settled on a double leaf. I'm not a graphic designer or print artist at all, but in the end I think I did alright. I came up with two matching designs: one for the paper invitations and the other to send by email to those people whose addresses we have and those who are too far away.

I hope it doesn't come across as pretentious or frivolous or rude that we're keeping it simple. We already got one response from one of the e-invitations. It was from someone who likes to think they know a lot about etiquette. But it was curt and fairly offensive. So I'm guessing the invitation somehow bothered that person. I can only guess as to why. I certainly didn't mean any offense.

The wording on the invitations was as follows:

[front]
You Are Cordially Invited
[little double leaf thing]

[inside]
[The Partner] and Ben invite you to celebrate our marriage
at a reception on July third from three to six o'clock in the afternoon
Cafe Sitges, Calle San Pable, Thirty-two
Hours d'oeuvres and open bar
Casual attire required
Your presence is our gift
R.S.V.P. at bentorbush@gmail.com

There wasn't enough space for me to say just drop in for a while and say hi if you're not too busy that day. We'd just like to celebrate our nuptials with a few people we know and like and you're one of them. There was, however enough space for the partner's desire to make it clear there'd be an open bar; his somewhat tacky phrase, Casual attire required;" and the whole, "Your presence is our gift" thing which is just a wee slip from being the patently absurd phrase, "Your presence is our presents." But the invitations, like our lives together are a collaboration.

The whole prospect of having a formal affair just gives me the willies. It's not that I'm embarrassed to be married or having second thoughts. It's just that marriage to me is about two people. It's about me and the partner. Nobody else.

The last time I got married the whole thing became a huge stressful headache with people sending out invitations, throwing showers, buying cakes, wanting to decorate the cars, and trying to add on to what could have been a simple, lovely ceremony. I know they just wanted to show they cared. They just wanted to take part in the whole process of a wedding people have in their heads. But with all the family and friends a hoopla, I barely got to spend time with the person I was trying to marry. Not that that marriage worked out all that great in the end given my latent homosexuality and all. But it's easy to lose focus on what's really important when you get caught up in all that pomp and circumstance.

So, if you're going to be in Sitges on July 3 and you'd like to stop by, you know where to find us. Don't dress up. Don't feel like you have to bring us presents. And don't expect anything over the top. I'll be one of the guys in white, hopefully standing or sitting close to the other guy in white while we hang out with some of our friends and have a few drinks.

Proposition Hate Upheald

2009-05-26T19:29:00.003+02:00

Advocates of same-sex marriage in the United States suffered a blow today when the California Supreme Court ruled to uphold Proposition 8. According to a Los Angeles Times article:

The decision virtually ensures another fight at the ballot box over marriage rights for gays. Gay rights activists said they may ask voters to repeal the marriage ban as early as next year, and opponents have pledged to fight any such effort. Proposition 8 passed with 52% of the vote.

At least they had the human decency to leave the 18,000 marriages between same-sex couples that had been performed between May and November of 2008. Those lucky people won't have been surreptitiously divorced by the tyranny of the majority.

I know the there's not much point in me weighing in on the U.S. political stuff. You've either already read it somewhere else or you don't care. But this just pisses me off. You would think Californians would know better. You would think that with the tide moving toward civil rights for LGBT people in the U.S. a state as generally forward-thinking as California would be on the forefront of this issue.

About the Perfect Mojito

2009-05-26T15:25:00.003+02:00

Before moving to Sitges the partner and I lived for a year in Cerdanyola del Vallès. It's a little town in the valley north-ish of Barcelona. It is an industrial town, a university town, sometimes a dreadfully dull town. It wasn't always easy to get to know people, especially with our lack of skills in Catalan. We did meet a few lovely people during our time there. The people at the restaurants we frequented knew and seemed to like us. We hung out in a three or four great little bars (all of them distinctly hetero).

Of the bars, there was Shelter, which closed due to noise violations; Jordi and Jordi's, which was run by a father and son and actually had a Catalan name I can't remember; and Cafe la Bohème. Bohème was as best we can tell the closest thing to a gay bar in Cerdanyola. It had a French-bohemian atmosphere with eclectic decor and a schizoid collection of tables and chairs. Students and "artsy" people gathered there for coffee, cocktails, and conversation. You always got great service from Carlos and his family who ran the bar with him. The music was an mix of popular hits spanning the last three or four decades.

But the real draw to Bohème was the drinks. They served the usual Spanish bar fare: what people in the U.S. call well drinks, beer, espresso, and an assortment of soft drinks. But when it came to cocktails, Carlos was a perfectionist. He made a vodka and Baileys martini with fresh cinnamon that was to die for. And when he served absinthe, he did it right with the perforated spoon, a sugar cube, and flame. I (barely) remember my first Santa Tecla in Spain because of Carlos' absinthes. (If you've never experienced Santa Tecla before, it's amazing. There's a parade of devils with spinning fireworks. A heavy dose of absinthe adds immensely to the wonder and the stumbling.)

The drink that brought us back to Bohème over and over again was the mojito. Carlos started his mojitos with natural sugar, fresh mint leaves (from a plant), and lime juice. These he crushed in the bottom of a glass with a muddler (I had to look up what the thing was called.). Then he added crushed ice, which he kept on hand especially for mojitos. Next came white rum and a special ingredient. The fifth ingredient of a traditional mojito is soda or plain carbonated water. Numerous attempts to recreate Carlos' mojitos with various sodas, however, have failed miserably. He then garnished it with a sprig of mint and two straws.

This mojito, Carlos' mojito is the best I have ever tasted. Sweet but not cloyingly so. The spicy flavor of the rum, the freshness of the mint, and the acid of the lime were perfectly balanced with the dark sweetness of the sugar. No alcoholic burn. No bitterness. No syrupy viscosity. It was cool, clean, and refreshing.

Mojitos are extremely popular around here, especially for tourists. It's a specialty drink used by many bars to lure visitors. Not many local bars serve them. And honestly most of the tourist bars that do, shouldn't.

I miss Carlos' mojitos, especially during hot afternoons at the beach or while relaxing at a street cafe in town. As the weather is warming up and tourists are filling the town, I find myself desiring one of those delicious cocktails more and more. Sometimes I miss them enough to order one at another place.

Just the other day we ran into some friends sitting out front of one of the big bars on our street. The bar had an entire page of their cocktail menu dedicated to mojitos. I decided to try one hoping to come at least close to those divine mojitos in memory. Now, I've had hastily made mojitos with white sugar and obviously old mint. And there was one with so much bottled lime juice you couldn't taste anything else. This one arrived with a mysterious green color. I tasted it. Revolting. It turned out to have mint liquor which completely wrecked the flavor of every other ingredient.

Ah well, it is better to have loved a mojito and lost it than to have never experienced a great cocktail at all.

New Underwear

2009-05-22T16:12:00.004+02:00

Alright ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you, I'm starting to feel better. So maybe I'll go back to posting on a regular basis soon. But until I get my stuff together enough to do a serious post let me tell you about my new underwear (that's pants to you British types).

I think I posted about the Eurovision party. I was feeling pretty miserable, so I may not have given the best impression. But one of the good things that came out of that experience was that the partner won a 50 Euro gift certificate to ES4U.

We don't really go into ES4U very much. It's a boutique-type store for men. Yes, that's one of the odd elements of Spanish life. Men (at least the queer ones seem to and I think the heteros do as well) shop in boutique stores for their clothing as much as the women do. The partner and I have, at least in the past, tended toward the simple mass-market-type clothing stores. We're not all about the couture and all that. In fact we're both pretty good candidates for the "before" photos on an episode of Queer Eye. Sorry, there are just many more important things in life than wearing this year's Prada. So, I guess I'm an off-the-rack kind of guy.

But anyway we had this gift card. The only thing we knew ES4U sells is underwear. So we set out to buy some new panties. Much to my surprise ES4U has all kinds of clothes. Of course they have underwear too. Lots of it. And nice stuff too. But there were shirts and pants and bathing suits as well as briefs and boxers and jock straps. And the guy working there that day (I think his name is René) is really sweet.

I looked around. To be honest I've worn boxers since the 90s, and the underwear they had in stock was, for lack of a better term, brief. Even the products called "boxers" were briefer than the briefs I've worn in the past. But it would be nice to have some panties to wear to underwear parties and the like, right? So I was shuffling through the rack. Then I made a discovery. One of the pairs of underwear had a sort of pocket in the front, and in this sort of pocket was a sort of foam pad kind of like a Dorothy from the Golden Girls shoulder pad. Yes, these underwear had a crotch pad in them. A veritable wonder bra for your man-parts. No need for that sweaty tube sock. Just don these briefs and it'll look like your junk is at ample half mast at all times.

Now I'm not big down there by any stretch of the imagination. I'm more of a grower not a shower, as they say. But how embarrassing would it be to have someone discover that not only am I not super-well-endowed, but I was faking it with some kind of shoulder pad thing? Why would somebody do that?

Then René pointed out that they have underwear with butt pads too. Yes, you can buy underwear that makes you look like John Holmes in the front and J-Lo in the back. No joke.

But I didn't buy those. They just seemed too dishonest to me. I went for a three-pack of boxers that were on sale for 55 Euros. The partner tried to suggest I get extra-larges, but one of my objectives was to have some form-fitting drawers for show. I got large, in three colors. Pretty impressive for an off-the-rack guy, huh? Right at this moment my underwear is more expensive than all the other articles of clothing I have on combined. I'm used to paying less than 10 bucks for a 5-pack of underwear. Let me have my moment.

But in all seriousness, they are great-fitting very comfortable underwear. And (without pads thank you very much) they sort of hold my junk up front and center and make it look very nice. Well, as nice as it looks anyway. Now I just have one little side effect to deal with: new underwear always makes me kind of randy. I don't know why. It just does. Now I want to show off my front-and center junk. Too bad I don't have a body that looks great around it. Oh well, one thing at a time.

And A Good Time Was Had By All

2009-05-19T11:25:00.003+02:00

During our first off-season visit to Sitges someone recommended a restaurant called Monroes. We went in for their Sunday roast, an ample traditional English meal. I could do an entire post on the food at one Sunday roast. We thoroughly enjoyed it. It was somewhere between Ben's friendly berating of the customers and Pablo's generous savory cuisine we began to realize we could live in Sitges.

Fast forward to last week. Sunday roast ends for the summer in April. The bookings start dwindling as customers elect to spend their Sunday afternoons on the beach. So the guys cut it off for the season. We had attended the last roast of the season among the final trickle of customers. At that scantily attended dinner the suggestion was made we gather on the beach next Sunday instead. We agreed.

The next Sunday, the partner and I were the only ones to make it to the beach. The partner thought he'd be funny by leaving an angry phone message. Something to the effect of: Look, we we're all going to the beach together and you stood us up. Next Sunday we expect you to come to the beach and we expect you to serve us a full Sunday roast, naked, to make up for you forgetting. (Oh, by the way I should mention we go to the clothing-optional beach. I should probably do a post on that sometime.)

Sunday morning we received a call: "Your naked maitre d', your naked head chef, and your naked waiter will meet you at Cap de la Villa with your Sunday roast for the beach. Wash your willy and be there in one hour."

They had been up since 9 that morning shopping and cooking in preparation for our jaunt to the beach. When we met them near the center of town they were laden with bags of hot and cold food, bread, beach towels and sunscreen. We brought water and shandy (beer with lemon) We made our way to Balmins on the far side of town.

Once settled onto our beds and lathered in tanning lotion, they began passing food. First English-styles sausages. Then sausage rolls (sausage surrounded with flaky puff-pastry and delicious with English mustard). Then they brought out Cornish pasties (think roast beef, gravy, and vegetables wrapped in a pie crust a little larger than one's fist) with Branston Pickle. Now, to be honest I've had Cornish pasties on a couple of trips to the U.K. before, and I honestly thought I really didn't like them that much. These were delicious. Amazing. Apparently everything else I've ever had that was called a Cornish pasty was in fact a mere shadow.

The cold dishes came a little later. Bread with pate. Egg mayonnaise (akin to what they call in the southern U.S. egg salad). Boursault Cheese. Mixed olives, pickled onions and gherkins. And then fresh strawberries with sugar.

We lay a few meters from the lapping waves and soaked up the sun. Brief spurts of conversation waxed and waned through us. I went to the snack hut for more drinks, fruit-flavored ices, and ice creams. We admired the views, inclusive not only of the beach, the rocks, the distant town, the sailboats on sea, but also the naked and semi-naked men frolicking and meandering around the surf. Daryl (our "naked waiter" who wasn't actually naked) flirted shamelessly with a gorgeous South African man stationed on his towel behind us. I think all of us stared in amazement at a particularly well-endowed Spanish man (who probably suffers from bruised knees if he runs).

It was a beautiful day. But unfortunately it did have to end. About the time Ben, Pablo, and Daryl had to head back to get ready to run the restaurant that night, I was beginning to get nervous about my intestines. So we headed home. Some of us a little extra crispy (the partner fell asleep and didn't reapply often enough), but all of us well sated and having thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

Eurovision

2009-05-18T13:36:00.003+02:00

For you American types who don't know, Saturday was the final of the Eurovision Song Contest. This is, apparently, a BIG deal. Forty-two countries enter, including several that are not actually in Europe. The scoring system is almost as complicated as tennis. This year's winner, Alexander Rybak from Norway:

Isn't he adorable? This video is from Norway's final. I'm sure there are a billion versions out there, but in this one he's not smiling so much. His big scary grin kind of gets on my nerves after a while.

This year was my first time actually experiencing Eurovision. We had plans to celebrate with some friends of ours who live in one of the nice neighborhoods overlooking Sitges. However, my illness prevented me from moving more than a few minutes dash from our toilet.

The partner, bless him, was so excited about viewing the contest he couldn't sit still. A pub, just a few doors down from the flat was celebrating Eurovision with a raffle and a 250 Euro prize for the person who correctly selected the top three acts. We decided to go. Or rather he decided to go wether I felt like it or not. He went down early to get a good seat in front of the big screen. Two and a half hours early. That's how excited he was.

By the time I had loaded myself down with painkillers and was sure I'd have a while before the diarrhea kicked in again, it was still more than an hour before the contest, no one was in the bar (except the partner), and tennis was on the television. We sat for a while, cheering on Rafael Nadal and racking up tickets for the raffle.

Eventually a British couple occupied the table next to us. They had flown in to Sitges just for the night to watch the contest. Yeah, that's how important Eurovision is to some people (read here homos). Forms were distributed for scoring the acts. The bar began to fill as tennis ended and the preliminaries played on the screen. Then the show began.

A brief summary of Eurovision for the uninitiated: Each of the 42 countries has a contest. One artist or band is selected to represent that country at Eurovision. Over several days the 42 are reduced down through quarterfinals and semifinals to 25. On the night of the final, all the artists perform in a big (very expensive) show. People from all the countries phone and text in their votes. You can't vote for your own country, but many do vote for their neighbors and allies. Also, there's some business with a group of people in each country who award points to 10 entries (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10, and 12 points) of their choice. The group points count 50% and the phone-in votes count 50%. And somehow at the end of this there emerges a winner. Simple, right?

ABBA's "Waterloo" won in 1974. Sandy Shaw won for "Puppet on a String" in 1967. Usually the winner has a silly pop feel. And nonsense words help as in Lulu's 1969 winner "Boom Bang-a-bang" and Teach-In's "Ding-a-Dong" from 1975.

Imagine the insane popularity of American Idol multiplied by 42 and concentrated into three or so days.

We watched. We scored. Some of the songs were bizarre, some weird amalgam of pop and folk with awkward dancing and beaming smiles. Some were pretty standard fare pop with blatant borrowing from the likes of Skakira and Madonna.

Once the performances finished there was a New Years Eve-style countdown to the end of phone voting. Then one by one the countries appeared on the screen to deliver their scores. Cheers went up as favorites received high scores. Boos also followed for countries that blatantly gave high scores to less gifted performances from neighboring countries.

Norway, the obvious favorite, quickly pulled way ahead in the scores. I admit, I hadn't liked the video for "Fairytale" when I first saw it. But Rybak and his entourage's performance was stunning. And the song grows on you like a stomach virus. A couple of other songs I really liked didn't do as well:

and

And the entry from the U.K. was terrible. The performer had an amazing voice. She was immaculate. The song, however, was utter rubbish. I think Joe. My. God. said it best:

Written by Andrew Lloyd Weber and Diane Warren, Jade Ewen's entry for the UK sounds more like a song justifiably cut from the second act of Wicked than the usual over the top Eurovision fare. Show queens will lurve it, of course.

And they did. That song scored very well. Others I though were pretty good didn't. But overall the evening was enjoyable. We (of course since we were there two hours+ early) won several of the drawing prizes. I have yet to use my handcuffs, but I'll convince the partner to try them out soon enough. Anyway, by the end I understood some of the excitement surrounding Eurovision. And yes, unless I'm spending my days on the toilet again, I can't wait to watch Norway host it next year.

And Not A Drop To Drink - Part 2

2009-05-18T12:00:00.003+02:00

I know, ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you, I haven't posted for a week. My sincere apologies.

I'm certain as a result of the poor sanitary conditions in which I've been living, I became terribly ill Tuesday. Monday I was dirty but fine. Tuesday I began to run a temperature. I also had pain in my head, throat, back, joints, and abdomen. And the crowning glory, diarrhea.

Wednesday and Thursday passed in a feverish nightmare. Pain that defied high doses of ibuprofen. Arctic heat and tropic cold. Uncontrollable shakes. Frenzied rushes to the toilet every thirty minutes, twenty if I ate a cracker. And when I did sleep, dreams from which I woke up literally screaming for help.

On Friday the partner called an ambulance. I didn't want to go to the hospital, but I couldn't make the walk to the doctor's office. He insisted. I spoke to a doctor on the phone and she decided to send them to make sure I wasn't carrying swine flu.

One of the paramedics was adorable with a diamond stud in his ear. The other obviously thought I was a waste of their time. Oh, and the uniforms. I don't think I've ever mentioned how much I like men in uniform. Suffice it to say that if I had been able to focus on anything other than not shitting my pants in front of them or keeping the various parts of my head from exploding in all directions, I would have been drooling like a lap-puppy.

They put a mask on me in case I was infectious and walked me down the stairs to the ambulance. My legs were cramping probably from dehydration. The cute one rode in the back with me, and the irritated one drove, with the partner in the passenger seat. On the way he assured me the mask was just a precaution. I tried to say "in case of swine flu" to indicate I understood. I had the words all wrong, but he figured out what I was saying. He then went on to explain that swine flu started when, "one person, one man was fucking with a pig and it mutated." He could have told me it started when a gum drop tumbled down off the big rock-candy mountain and I would have reacted with equal surprise. You don't hear about these things in the papers.

At the hospital there was a great deal of waiting around in a wheelchair while they admitted me and made my little plastic bracelet. Then they wheeled me into a room. It was much more efficient than many experiences I've had in the American health system. The doctor was already talking to me while another person took my temperature and blood pressure. The doctor focused first on the onset of my symptoms and exactly when I arrived from the U.S. She then told me I could take the mask off. It wasn't swine flu.

She listened to my stomach and looked in my ears. She determined it was just a virus. She recommended switching off between paracetamol and ibuprofen for the fever and consuming nothing but water for at least a day while the diarrhea continued.

By Saturday my fever had broken. I'm still shitting pure liquid, but it's once every two to four hours now instead of every twenty minutes. And thank goodness we can finally flush the toilet again since our cistern is beginning to fill.

This is the best, the quickest diet I've ever been on. If I can keep this up for another week I'll weigh as much as I did at the onset of puberty. I just wish it didn't have to be this painful (he said, pausing to double over the keyboard with cramps). Seriously though, it will be nice to feel normal again some day. The doctor said two or three days four days ago. I'm still waiting.

Monday's Minute of Hate

2009-05-11T18:30:00.003+02:00

Via Good As You:

This ad was released last week by Cornerstone Policy research in conjunction with the National Organization for Marriage:

G. A. Y. had a lovely response:

So in order to fight same-sex marriage you have to lie and/or affiliate yourself with a nationally recognized hate group? 'Nuff Said.

Stuff

2009-05-11T17:43:00.003+02:00

Via Slog:

This video created by Annie Leonard is rather U.S.-centric, but the message is a good one. Her Web site offers an interactive version of the video. And a New York Times article about the video indicates it's spreading virally and being used as a teaching tool. It just proves that one person can make a difference.

I know I'm always going on about the differences between the U.S. and Europe. Several elements of life in Europe that are just better than life in the States are ones she talks about here. The big-box consumer model that thrives in the States doesn't quite work the same way here. Sure we have Carrefour and Corte Ingles. But there exists here a much better sense of living with only what you need and not wasting resources. Because most of the food we eat is from this region it's fresher and requires fewer chemicals to preserve it. Because living space is limited we don't fill our homes with crap we can't use.

You'd be surprised at how much you don't miss all that stuff when it's gone. And the one thing I miss the least? My car. My life is so much better without all the gas and insurance and license fees and traffic and maintenance and tickets and accidents and mess, I only wish I didn't need one when I visit the States.

Meeting the Judge

2009-05-11T15:32:00.004+02:00

Today we met the judge who will perform our wedding ceremony in July. I was, suffice it to say, quite nervous about the experience.

Why was I apprehensive? (Aside from the obvious reasons like we're two men getting married in a predominantly Catholic country and this guy pretty much has the authority to refuse to marry us just because he doesn't want to.) I've done this before. The last time I got married circumstances were quite different. And yet that time too, there was a meeting with the official beforehand.

When the ex-wife and I got married back in those hazy youthful days clouded by societal compulsion we met with the minister. He officiated at a small-town Kentucky church and went by the title Brother Dan. Or at least I think it was Dan. Anyway it was Brother and some normal name like Bill or George or Dan. He was something of a last resort as we had left a few important details of the wedding to the last minute.

That meeting was a bit scary. There were difficult essay-type questions like: What are your expectations of the duties of your future wife? and What precautions will you take so as not to bring children into this marriage until you've both had time to navigate the challenges and difficulties of married life?

And then there was the biggest scariest question of all: Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your personal lord and savior? I had an easy dodge for that question. I was baptized and confirmed in my parents' church back home in Georgia. (This was before I did enough thinking to realize I didn't agree with all the hypocrisy and bigotry inherent in the church.) So Brother Tom understood me to be a confirmed member of the flock and no problem. But when the same question was posed to my then-fiance the answer was a little trickier. You see, she has never been so foolish as to be taken in by the church's tricks. And she's WAY too honest a person to just lie about it so we could avoid a confrontation. No, she told Brother Ted, she'd never really been to church other than as a child when her grandparents took her on sundays to fill in her coloring books on the pew beside them.

I could tell by Brother Bill's expression he wasn't too pleased with this answer. He pressed her further. Wouldn't she feel more comfortable knowing that her soul could avoid eternal damnation by simply accepting Jesus Christ as her personal lord and saviour. He could do it that day. All they'd really have to do was to say a prayer asking Jesus into her heart. It wouldn't take a moment.

No, she wouldn't have any of it. She's not exactly an atheist, but she's sure as hell not going to lie and say she believes the church's take on Jesus. Not even as an expedient to making sure Brother Tom will marry us. She pretty much told him point blank she wouldn't say his prayer because she won't lie. Brother Jeb meanwhile was developing a stress tick in the muscles of his forehead. He would have really liked to refuse to marry us. But thank goodness the ex-wife's sister was one of his faithful church members. He eventually relented. But he expressed his strong reluctance and admonished her to think about the precarious condition of her hell-bound soul.

So like I said ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you, I was just a wee bit petrified of reliving that historical pre-wedding interview.

But (thank Brother Bob's Jesus) this experience was completely different. First, he greeted us warmly, confirming our names as he shook our hands. He is a man probably in his seventies with uncontrolled wisps of white hair and a paternal smile. Then he took us into the chambers where the wedding ceremony will be performed. It's a wood-paneled room with a big desk at the front and benches in the back much like you might find in the courthouse of any small town. "You sit there," he indicated two thick chairs in front of the desk. "But not right now, on the day. Some people are so eager they jump right in when I show them," he joked. (I'm paraphrasing as my Spanish is fairly imperfect.)

Then he took us to his office. He gave our documents a cursory glance and then described to us the options we could include in our ceremony. He showed us pictures of other weddings he had performed. "You can bring in flowers. You can have pictures made. You can even hire a musician. Will you be using rings?"

We told he we would.

"That's fine, that's fine. Flowers, music, rings are all fine, but the important thing, the thing we can't do it without, is the two of you." All those concerns I had about being gay, being foreign, or being otherwise rejected melted in his genuine friendliness. "And two witnesses with their passports," he added with a smile.

We confirmed our details on the paperwork and signed a document confirming our appointment for the wedding. He bid us a kind farewell, adding the Spanish equivalent of "A pleasure to have met you."

Same-sex marriage in Spain (unlike many of the unions legalized throughout the civilized world) is the exact same thing as heterosexual marriage. You get the exact same "family book" (the official marriage document) as the straights. The benefits and responsibilities are exactly the same here. I went into this meeting today with all kinds of trepidation. I expected reluctance. I expected disapproval. Instead the judge treated us no differently than he would any couple. Why can't it be like that everywhere?

And Not A Drop To Drink

2009-05-11T13:14:00.004+02:00

One of the little quirks of living in Spain is the domestic water system. Visitors will note the public fountains scattered through the streets and plazas. And I don't mean the decorative fountains seen in the formal gardens and major intersections. I mean the small spigots, often little more than a stone pilaster with a brass bowl and push-button faucet. They seem a quaint throwback to medieval times when they were the only source of clean water in the heart of the city. Some are quite lovely, having been designed by famous architects and urban planners or decorated with exquisite statuary. They are, however during these modern times, dreadfully inadequate when they become one's only source of water.

Today is Monday. I have been living without running water in my home since Thursday.

I know, I know. I'm probably coming across as a whiney fat-cat American right now. But ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you, I challenge you to go without water for five days. It will totally change your perspective on a resource too many people take for granted. I know there are people living in this world who have never had running water. I know there are people who can't take a drink without worrying about dysentery or cholera or any number of horrible diseases, infections, and parasites. But for me this is the first time I've gone this long without a steady source of water I could assume was clean. I've been accustomed to simply turning on the faucet any time I need to clean my hands. I've been horribly wasteful.

On Wednesday I drank a couple of cups of tea, I took a shower, I used the machine to wash a load of laundry, I washed dishes, I flushed the toilet countless times, I watered all the plants on my balcony, I mopped the floor, and I washed my hands at least a dozen times just during the preparation and consumption of meals not to mention on several other occasions. On Thursday I drank tea and started a load of laundry. That was when I heard the frustrated humming of the washer.

No big deal. It's downtown Sitges. The water system here is considerably older and sometimes less trustworthy than that of newer developments. Our flat has a cistern on the roof that is supplied with a constant stream of water. A valve with a float (kind of like the ones you see in toilets) stops the water when the tank is full. An electric pump pulls water from the cistern and sends it into the flat. We've had sand and other particles get caught in the pipes before. I knew I just had to check the valve and the pump to make sure both were unclogged and functioning properly. I went upstairs and checked everything out. Nothing seemed to be wrong.

I emailed the landlord (who, like half the men in Catalunia is named Xavi [The other half are named Jordi.]) to ask for his assistance and if he knew of any work going on in the building that would require the water to be shut off. I didn't hear back from him until Saturday. That's when he told me he didn't know what was going on. By that time the laundry was spilling out of the hamper, the dirty dishes were piled in the kitchen like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie, my plants were beginning to wilt, and my body odor was to the point I didn't want to be around me anymore. I'm not even going to mention the stress of having to move my bowels and knowing I can't flush the toilet.

The partner emailed the landlord too and eventually heard back that the water was shut off for nonpayment. Xavi never moved the water bill into our names so we never received any notices. We just assumed he was pulling the money out of the checking account like he does for the rent. Utility bills have been moving out of the account for months. And just as a side note: here in spain, utility bills tend to be bimonthly, trimonthly or at random intervals I have yet to understand.

Today the partner went to the water office here in town. He discovered not only have no water payments been made for our flat during the time we've been here, but no payment had been made for the entire previous year. It took them TWO YEARS to turn off the water for nonpayment.

You think homestead rights are pretty crazy in the U.S.? Try having the right to get water and electricity, to even not pay your rent for two years without recourse. That's Spain for you. It's nice to know as a renter I have that extra layer of protection. It would have been nicer to know I was using it.

Mothers Day

2009-05-10T18:19:00.001+02:00

Happy Mothers Day

Celebrate by reading some excellent wisdom from modern mothers.

The "Best of" section is hilarious.

A Step (Or Two) In The Right Direction

2009-05-09T16:15:00.002+02:00

OK ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you, I was trying to avoid some of that political stuff for a while and concentrate on more personal posts. The result? I just avoided posting. But I have to celebrate a couple of really great things that have happened in the US recently.

Really great thing number one: same-sex marriage passes in Maine!

Really great thing number two: The Washington D.C. Council voted to recognize same-sex marriages performed in states where it is legal!

Of course the uber-conservative lunatics immediately lashed out against both the moves. Remember the cracked-out D.C. Mayor Marion Barry? He rather vocally opposed the measure on moral grounds. And isn't it lovely that he was the ONLY council-person to do so?

And then there are the folks in Maine who are gearing up to fight to have voters repeal the legislation. Bishop Richard Malone has appeared at the forefront of the anti-gay-marriage movement. He called same-sex marriage a "dangerous sociological experiment" and went on to yammer the usually unfounded b.s. about protecting children from the scary homos. Same-sex marriage will have to be taught in schools? Is "opposite-sex" marriage taught in schools? I've never seen it in any of the standards or the curricula of any of the states where I taught. It's an absurd claim. But YOU already know that, don't you ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you?

Anyway it's nice to see some good stuff happening back in the ol' red-blooded white-skinned blue-balled U. S. of A.

BTW, Don't miss Jon Stewart's take on the whole thing. (I would have put it here but I can never get Comedy Central's stuff to embed.)

A Sweet Little Fuck You

2009-05-06T15:37:00.002+02:00

Via every blog I've read today:

I've got to start listening to more Lily Allen

Straight-Only Toilets

2009-05-03T12:16:00.002+02:00

Via Pam's House Blend:

According to a Kentucky Equality Federation press release, Fifteen students protested Friday outside Franklin County High School in Frankfort Kentucky. They were protesting a policy initiated by a school "official" communicated to teachers via email that told them homosexual students were not allowed to leave the classroom to use the restroom.

The Superintendent Harrie Buecker indicated that steps were being taken to "address the students' concerns." Which is pretty much your classic media stonewalling school officials do.

The email went out in response to an incident where two female students were found kissing in the restroom.

It happens. Especially in Kentucky. When I was teaching, there was a lesbian couple who were constantly harassed by teachers and other personnel for public displays of affection. I saw a teacher walk right past an area where several heterosexual couples were being affectionate and yell at the girls for kissing. And yeah, I agree it's pretty nasty for an adult to walk up on a couple of high school kids making out. But when homosexuals are specifically targeted it's a problem.

The school official who instituted the policy went too far. No one has the right to deny someone access to restroom facilities based on that person's sexuality. That school official and that school should be ashamed. And they should be sued.

Something Groovy

2009-05-02T12:53:00.003+02:00

Via Boing Boing:

How to Avoid Jury Duty

2009-05-01T11:58:00.003+02:00

Via The Smoking Gun:

He almost went to jail, but he was ultimately excused from serving.

Click to see the whole thing better.

La Vida Toca (La Guitarra)

2009-04-29T14:14:00.003+02:00

(Yes, I know my title makes no sense whatsoever.)

Alright ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you, I know I was bitching a little too much yesterday about living in Spain and all that. It was a bad day all around, but it's over. Sometimes people get jealous when I talk about living in Spain. (And maybe they should be.) But if my post yesterday says anything of worth it's that life in Spain isn't all sunshine, amazing cuisine, and gorgeous bodies. But (much more often than in the US) the true beauty of living here is the little surprises that come up in one's day to day life.

It's the little differences that add so much value to the experience of living here. Not just the strange, entertaining differences like there are no penalties for growing up to three marijuana plants for personal use; or everything closes between 2 and 5 in the afternoon for siesta; or it's completely legal to be naked anywhere in Spain; or or everyone owns eyeglasses as fashion accessories; or it's perfectly acceptable to bring dogs and children into bars. But there are other differences too, things that seem never to happen in the US.

Like today. We had a few errands to run and the partner had a break between work calls (the trip to Ghana was canceled at the last minute). So we went down to the new mercado by the train station. Our little market is something like if a mall and a farmers' market had a baby: It's indoor, but there are all kinds of stalls with fresh fish, meats, cafes, flowers, vegetables, and (for some reason) one little hardware store. I wanted to get some more herbs for my balcony boxes. The flower shop, however, only had one edible herb which was something I already had. We meandered the streets for a while, stopping by all the flower/plant shops in town.

Before going home we stopped into Cafe Sitges which is run by a couple friends of ours. We ordered a couple of coffees and paninis. After a few minutes two men walked in carrying guitars and dressed in medieval garb. At first I though some kind of festival must be going on nearby. (These things do tend to spring up periodically.) But it turned out they were some kind of traveling musicians out of Terragona. They ordered a couple glasses of wine and sat down at one of the tables.

Then, as if it were a perfectly normal thing to do (as I think it was for them) they began playing their guitars and singing. It was absolutely beautiful. If you've never heard decent Spanish guitar music you're seriously missing out. Not to mention, one of the guys playing was absolutely beautiful himself. It turned out they were part of a program where students earn money for school by performing as wandering minstrels. Their Web site (in Spanish) is here. They played several sweet romantic songs as we sipped our coffees and ate. Their voices leaped and twined around one another as their fingers danced intricately over the strings. Some of the regular crowd in the cafe sang along.

It was one of those brilliant and yet completely unexpected experiences. Like something you'd see in a movie about Americans traveling to Europe. Spain is like that. You stumble on random instances of beauty almost every day. A shopping trip turns into a parade. A walk to a friend's house leads you into a neighborhood festival. Stopping by your favorite cafe yields gorgeous men making gorgeous music.

Something Lovely

2009-04-28T22:10:00.003+02:00

Via Get That L@@k!:

If you don't want to take the time to read my (rather long) previous post, just watch this video. It's... well... lovely.

That's How Spain's Bureaucracy Works.

2009-04-28T18:33:00.004+02:00

I really, REALLY need to work on my Spanish. I get by most of the time, but I'm constantly finding myself in situations where my language skills are utterly lacking. Like the time my friend had a panic attack while we were out walking by the shore and I had to call emergency services. How the Hell do you say heart palpitations in Spanish?

Or like yesterday. The partner is going to Ghana, West Africa for a business trip. (I'm not going as Ghana is one of those places where they still put you in jail for sodomy.) Of course to go to Ghana you need to have vaccinations and a visa. His company was supposed to arrange for his visa. Guess who had to arrange for his vaccinations. Me.

So last Thursday I took him up to the local health clinic. He finally had his paperwork processed for his medical card. (That process has been going on for months.) And he needed me to tag along to explain his situation. Luckily the woman at the front counter spoke enough English to tell him they don't do vaccinations at the local clinic. She gave him an over-photocopied paper with the addresses of all the clinics that do vaccinations in the area. No problem. We've been here long enough to know that they're always going to send you to someone else. That's how Spain's bureaucracy works.

We chose the closest place to home, Belvitge, a thirty-minute train ride away. The next day the partner had an appointment in the morning so we took the afternoon to go get his shots. I googled it so we'd know where the heck we were going. (That's another reason I went, to be a navigator. The partner could get lost in a particularly large bathroom stall.) The hospital is about a twenty minute walk from the nearest train station. Not bad. So we decided to walk instead of navigating the Metro or trying to catch the right bus.

We had no problem whatsoever finding the right building. Belvitge is a human bee hive, nothing but ugly apartment blocks and highways. There are exactly two buildings that don't look identical to all the others. One is the hotel, which resembles a high-rise with a big blue jiffy-pop pan stuck to its side. The other is the hospital.

Let me take a moment to describe the hospital. To say it's big would be litotes of the most offensive variety. This leviathan of a conglomeration of medical facilities has its own zip code. (That was NOT exaggeration.) The first two massive multi-story structures we walked past were just the university classroom buildings associated with the hospital. Next came a giant concrete and glass fortress without signage. We decided to try in there. The very nice lady at the information desk gave us a map. An effing map of the hospital. She also directed us to the correct building and told us to look for preventative medicine. We had barely delved a third of the way in. That's how Spain's bureaucracy works.

The next (and the largest) place we went past was the main hospital. It comprised all the normal hospital-type services you could think of but NOT preventative medicine. By itself it was the biggest hospital I'd ever seen and included a cluster of round towers and several hulking wings. Our destination lay beyond the main building.

The correct building was about the size one might expect of a metropolitan hospital. And we had to walk all the way around it to get to the entrance. At the front desk I asked where preventative medicine was. The rather bored-looking young woman directed us to the fourth floor. We went up. We walked in. No one was at the front desk. We waited. We got bored. We looked around. No one was in any of the several offices. The cabinets and refrigerators where the vaccines were stored were unlocked and available to any passers by. If he hadn't needed a certificate we could have easily stolen the inoculations and done it ourselves. But he needs the certificate. That's how Spain's bureaucracy works.

We went back to the front desk on the ground floor and asked the bored-looking woman when they would all be back. I think she said something like "I don't know. We're just the dentists." (She was the secretary for the Orthodontia wing.) We went back up and waited some more.

An old woman tottered by and pilfered through the empty offices. She seemed to know what was going on so I asked her when everybody would be back. "I don't know," she said. "It's friday. They'll be back on Monday maybe." It was at that moment we realized that Thursday had been a holiday (Sant Jordi's Day). The Spanish usually take a "bridge" day if a holiday falls on Thursday or Tuesday. That's how Spain's bureaucracy works.

We went home.

On Monday we tried again. This time we knew which building to go to. This time someone was manning the desk and the lobby was crowded with patients. When I explained the partner's situation to the lady behind the front desk of the preventative medicine department she nodded sagely and told me they'd have the (required for entry into Ghana) yellow fever vaccine on May 12. When I haltingly explained that the partner needed the vaccine for a trip on Wednesday she said "Wednesday! Wednesday? It's not possible." She gave us a (not photocopied this time) list of all the places that do vaccinations in the area. Again we'd been sent somewhere else. That's how Spain's bureaucracy works.

Next came an hour of standing outside while the partner yelled into his bluetooth earpiece. Yes, he's one of THOSE people you seen in airports who you first think are crazy and then realize are just rude. He called the listed number of the next closest place, in downtown Barcelona. When he couldn't understand what the woman was saying he handing the bloody thing to me. I can understand fuck-all in Spanish over the phone. It just goes by too fast and there are no facial and body-language clues. So all I was able to do was to confirm that he could make an appointment for the day their vaccine came in. The day was May 12. That's how Spain's bureaucracy works.

She told him there was an "emergency" clinic and gave him the number. He called it. There was no answer. He called her back. For the next forty-five minutes he yelled the same handful of words repeatedly: Urgencia! Vacinaciones! por ma trabajo! escussa! miercoles! Ghana en Africa! febre amarillo! Hoy! Urgencia! Vacinaciones! por ma trabajo! escussa! miercoles! Ghana en Africa! febre amarillo! Hoy! Urgencia! Vacinaciones! por ma trabajo! escussa! miercoles! Ghana en Africa! febre amarillo! Hoy!

The words for today, emergency, Wednesday, and work were pretty close to their Spanish counterparts. His version of vaccination sounded French. And his word for sorry was nearer Italian than any language I know.

Finally (thank god!) we decided to try to go to the Drasanes office downtown. The partner continued to try his luck on the phone. On the way I kept my distance. I didn't want to be associated with the strange Englishman screaming Italian to no one in particular. And I can assure you I'm surprised he didn't have the crazy police called on him for all the bewildered looks he was getting in the street. Thank goodness he couldn't get a signal on the Metro.

I navigated us to Drasanes (the street where the emergency vaccine clinic was located.) Luckily it's a fairly short road. We found the medical center and were directed to the correct office. The person behind the counter told us to come back at seven in the afternoon. I asked her if they could do it earlier. (I could understand her since it wasn't over the phone.) She explained that they only do "emergency" vaccinations at seven p.m. That's how Spain's bureaucracy works.

Today In Earbugs

2009-04-26T20:16:00.003+02:00

I needed some happy today after I found out Bea Arthur died. Luckily there was a post on Slog about this duo.

I can think of a few people I should have played this for.

Rest in Peace

2009-04-26T20:12:00.001+02:00

Bea Arthur

May 13, 1922 - April 25, 2009

Thousand-Hand Guan Yin

2009-04-24T17:23:00.004+02:00

Picked this up from Joe. My. God.

How about a bit of stunning beauty for your Friday?

Guan Yin, also called Kuan-Yin and Guanshi'yin among other names is the Bodhisattvi of compassion. She is an East-Asian religious figure often misidentified as a god. According to Buddhist tradition she was a human who obtained enlightenment but was so compassionate she returned to help others instead of going on to Nirvana. Her name roughly translates to "hears the cries of the world."

This Web site indicates the performers in this video are all deaf. They are members of the China Disabled People's Performing Art Troupe. Which just adds another layer of amazing to the performance.

Alas Poor Naked Wizard

2009-04-23T18:41:00.005+02:00

Via The Huffington Post and Slog:

Wanna see hilarious slowly descending into uncomfortable? NSFW at all unless your workplace likes full-frontal male nudity.

Naked Wizard Tased By Reality from Tracy Anderson on Vimeo.

Doesn't everyone feel just a little bit safer now?

St. Jordi's Day

2009-04-23T13:25:00.001+02:00

To you English types it's Saint George's Day, a day to make merry, dress up, and wave white flags with red pluses on them. To you American types today is Thursday. In Catalunia St. Jordi's Day is something equivalent to the American Valentines Day. The tradition is for men to buy their women single roses and for women to buy their men books. And people run around all day buying up fistfuls of roses and scads of books for their loved ones. Others run around all day terrified they won't be on the receiving end of at least a pamphlet or something.

Don't worry if you haven't pre-purchased a book. Little stalls selling books (and of course roses) crop up everywhere. Here in Sitges they're lined up on the Passeig de la Ribera. Depending on the level of amorousness you feel for your significant other you can do anything from a brand new full-color coffee table book to a used paperback.

The modern tradition has become a little more fluid. Women give men roses. Men give women books (shudder to think). And in Sitges Men give men roses. Women give women books, It's all very mixed. Two years ago I received a rose and was asked if that meant I was a bottom. Last year the partner gave me a used copy of Stephen Fry's The Liar. He then started reading it and never finished.

Digging a little deeper into the tradition reveals that the whole rose thing goes well back into the middle ages, when the feast day was celebrated with contests by the aristocrat men to win the hearts of their chosen maidens. The book tradition is a little newer. It began sometime around 1923 with a bookseller who probably wanted to offload some stock. The day, April 23, however coincides with the traditionally established death days of Miguel Cervantes and William Shakespeare, so it makes sense.

Also there's the legend of Saint Jordi. It's the same as Saint George and the dragon, but this version takes place near Tarragona. There was a dragon hanging out near a village. The people offered daily human sacrifices to keep the dragon satiated. When it came time for the beautiful and beloved princess to take her turn, Saint Jordi showed up to intervene. Saint Jordi subdued the dragon with his spear. The princess was saved and the village freed. Hooray!

From this we get books and roses? Well, I guess the modern iterations of feast days don't have to make sense. At least the greeting card industry hasn't taken over this holiday yet.

Bon Diada de Sant Jordi.

Uncomfortable

2009-04-22T16:38:00.004+02:00

I recently spent a couple months in the US visiting the kids and the rest of my family in Kentucky. Originally my trip was related to spending some time with the kids during their Spring break. But due to unforeseen circumstances I ended up staying for much longer. My mother, god bless her, saw this as an opportunity for me to drive down to visit them in Georgia.

To be honest, I'm not all that crazy about the idea of driving down to Georgia. Since I don't drive anymore traffic makes me very nervous, especially with the kids in the car. And then you have the whole big wet cotton ball of discomfort that is spending time with the conservatives.

Admittedly, most of my family is fairly liberal. They're by and large the modern evolution of the good ol' civil rights-fighting southern Democrats. Long before I came out I spent many Sunday afternoons arguing the finer points of why a white person can't say the N word even if "they say it about themselves all the time."

Of course now that they know I'm queer, they really do try. I have to take the little wins and try my best for the sake of peace to let that be enough. I have to remind myself it's a good thing when they tell me my "choice" to be gay doesn't mean they love me any less. But hey, I've said it before, I had 27 years to get used to the idea before I told them. They need time.

I can survive around my family just fine for the most part. I know when I can make fag jokes to keep them comfortable. I know when to bite my tongue. And I know when to stand my little piece of ground. The difficulty comes when I interact with people who don't have to (at least pretend to) love me.

My kids were invited to an Easter egg hunt at the home of one of my mother's oldest and dearest friends. Being out to one's very southern mother means you are out to everyone she knows including all ministers, friends, hairdressers, and guys in the grocery store line in front of her who're buying a copy of the Advocate. So I knew my mother's friend knew I'm gay. I wasn't sure if the other people at the egg hunt knew.

The group included my mother's friend's daughters and their children, a middle-aged neighbor and her granddaughter, someone's elderly grandmother, my sister and her son, and me and my two monsters. Preparations were made for the kids to decorate eggs and the adults stood around making specious compliments to their artwork and small talk. Small talk in the southern US almost always includes everyone's health and what they're doing, the weather, and church. Discussion of the new minister at my parent's church (specifically the fact that she's female and by extension inept) let me know this was an excellent opportunity to keep my mouth shut.

Eventually conversation alighted on my personal history and what I'd been up to in the years since I last saw most of the people there. One of the daughters turned to me and asked, "So, what in the world brought you to Spain?"

A direct question requires a direct answer, right? I looked at the expectant faces of the elderly and the impressionable. The older ladies wouldn't really want to hear about my partner and his globe-trotting job. The mothers might not be too keen on me exposing my "lifestyle choices" to their children. So I gave the best answer I could come up with at the spur of the moment. "An airplane." I smiled my most becoming please-drop-the-subject smile and endured the giggles.

"Yes, I know but why Spain? What are you doing there?"

I wasn't going to get out of this one easily. I was only trying to avoid a potentially uncomfortable revelation. I was only trying to preserve their false memories of the sweet shy little boy they once knew. I was only trying to hold the tattered remnants of the closet door over myself for the sake of their social comfort. Sure I would like to be out and in everyone's faces about it, but sometimes it's just easier to leave people in their closed-minded cocoons.

"I'm writing, blogging and fiction, short stories mostly. It worked for George Orwell." Another not-so-clever dodge. But, thank their misogynistic racist god, it worked.

She pointed at her teenage son who'd been bored with everything, shuffling his sneakers through the whole scene waiting for the first opportunity to get back to his Facebook chats and PlayStation games. "Oh, he's been reading Orwell, haven't you?"

I was off the hook. No old minds were cracked open with my sinful ways. No children's futures were shattered with the knowledge that homosexuality exists. I was, however, left with the feeling I owed her a real explanation. She was, after all, something of a childhood acquaintance. Both of the daughters had been too old to play with me when we were kids, so we had never been really close. But I don't like the implied dishonesty of my question dodging.

Alas, the opportunity never presented itself. We hid and then helped the kids find eggs. We ate pizza. And then her boys were ready to be somewhere else.

As we were leaving the hostess pulled me aside to thank me for coming.

"Thank you for having us." I hadn't completely forgotten my manners.

"I'm glad you came. I didn't know if you'd be, um, uncomfortable." I suppose a sweet attempt at an allusion to my newly known sexuality.

"It was great to see you all again. The kids had a great time."

I don't know exactly what my mother has told her. I don't know what she thinks of homosexuality. But I can guess given the conglomerate of conservative social opinions among my family and their associates. I certainly didn't want to "throw my queerness in their faces." I was more concerned about their comfort than my own. Maybe she and her daughters were just as worried about being invaded by my unfamiliar world as I was about returning to theirs. But hopefully if there's any bit of light to be found in this muddy mess it's that they got to see an example of a normal gay man. A loving father. A person who hasn't forgotten the politeness of his upbringing. Someone who is still who he was before they knew his sexuality.

Stay Tuned for an Important Message

2009-04-22T15:27:00.002+02:00

Via Joe. My. God.:

Ten years after Matthew Shepard's grisly murder his mother joined with HRC to create an video in support of federal hate crimes legislation.

Massachusetts Ministers on Gay-Marriage

2009-04-21T23:55:00.002+02:00

Via Good As You:

You've heard me harp on same-sex marriage endlessly. This is a pretty interesting video given all the arguments about how same-sex has wrecked Massachusetts and will carve a streak of god's wrath through the US.

ALL the Single Ladies

2009-04-21T19:55:00.002+02:00

Via Towleroad:

This is, obviously, an ad for gum or Beyonce concerts or something. Still I find it enjoyable.

Another Bullying-Related Suicide

2009-04-21T16:28:00.003+02:00

Via Joe. My. God.:

I know you heard the story of the 11-year-old from Massachusetts Carl Joseph Walker-Hoover who committed suicide earlier this month after being bullied.

Today's Atlanta Journal-Constitution bore the story of another 11-year-old kid, Jaheem Herrera who committed suicide last week after anti-gay bullying. From the AJC:

On Thursday afternoon, after returning home from school, fifth-grader Jaheem quietly went into his room and hanged himself. His 10-year-old sister, Yerralis, also a fifth-grader, discovered Jaheem’s dead body.
[snip]
Jaheem was bullied relentlessly, his family said. Keene said the family knew the boy was a target, but until his death they didn’t understand the scope.
“We’d ask him, ‘Jaheem, what’s wrong with you?’” Keene recalled. “He’d never tell us.”
He didn’t want his sister to tell, either. She witnessed much of the bullying, and many times rose to her brother’s defense, Keene said.
“They called him gay and a snitch,” his stepfather said. “All the time they’d call him this.”

This is what your bullshit "Gathering Storm" and "Silencing Christians" and "Dare to Stand" videos lead to. Propagating this environment where LGBT people are seen as the bad guys leads your children to spread hate. They're bullying kids they perceive as gay because you teach them to not tolerate others. These poor kids don't even have to identify as gay to be targets.

This shit has to stop.

Never Do That Again

2009-04-21T15:57:00.003+02:00

Via The Huffington Post:

I'm sure those of you from the USA know that America doesn't torture. George Bush said it. It must be true. Right? This inalienable truth is even supported by the recent release of documents from the CIA explicitly discussing exactly how agents used advanced interrogation techniques to not torture detainees. From the Huffington Post:

Last week the Department of Justice released memos detailing techniques used for interrogation of terrorism suspects aka torture memos. This decision by President Obama has been lauded by some, but several members of the Bush administration and their supporters have been making the rounds on Fox News and the Sunday talk shows saying it was a huge mistake. A former Bush administration official told Politico:
"It's damaging because these are techniques that work, and by Obama's action today, we are telling the terrorists what they are. We have laid it all out for our enemies. This is totally unnecessary...Publicizing the techniques does grave damage to our national security by ensuring they can never be used again..."

These people are upset that these torture techniques can never be used again? They should have never been used in the first place. The only reason anyone should ever be tortured is if they specifically go looking for a dom on Craigslist.

I like Jon Stewart's take on the whole thing:

Homosexuality Is Not Pedophilia

2009-04-21T12:56:00.004+02:00

Via Big Gay News:

According to an article from the Telegraph Monday a Bridgend area magistrate has resigned over anti-gay remarks. (Now for you American types: A magistrate is something like a circuit judge. Bridgend is a town halfway between Cardiff and Swansea, Wales. And the Telegraph is a newspaper. ) The former magistrate, Byron Butler made the remarks while being interviewed for a program called The Only Gay in the Village, hosted by the Steps singer Ian H Watkins about his life growing up gay in Wales. From the Telegraph:

When asked by Mr Watkins what he thought of homosexuals, Mr Butler, 68, a retired butcher, replied:
"We have not got much time for them."
He continued: "Well, I think probably it is a suspicion of the mainstream that they perhaps will interfere with young people and so on and that has historically been the case.
"That is the danger. Paedophiles, not necessarily but they do, don't they, that is the reality."

A complaint was filed against Mr. Butler for his remarks. However he resigned during the proceedings, and his resignation was accepted. Mr. Butler had been a magistrate for 30 years.

So yeah, he deserved it, right? The man shouldn't be judging other people if he can't be impartial. That makes sense. But at the same time I'm thinking the guy is what? 68? He's close to my father's age. His opinions are going to be difficult to change. Some leniency is probably in order.

More importantly, I'm not sure if I like the idea of the government policing people's opinions. What if the government mood of the day were against homosexuality? Would they get me fired for catching some cute guy's eye in a bar? Such things have happened.

Then I start to think about Mr. Butler's actual opinions. They're not altogether uncommon. In way too many people's minds homosexuality and pedophilia and very firmly connected. I imagine that connection comes from earlier times when the only male to male sex you ever heard about was when the local preacher got caught diddling the altar boys. The ministry, like the priesthood before it has long been a refuge for queers and pedophiles alike trying to escape their desires by repressing them. But I think modern people should realize that homosexuality and pedophilia are two very different things.

Hey, even among my own family I sense a certain distrust among the parents of male children. During a recent visit my nephew wanted to walk around my parents' pond. I volunteered to lead the expedition since he's not allowed to go down there without an adult. Both of my children were going as well as a great-nephew. The great-nephew's dad said he couldn't go because they were about to leave. The nephew's dad followed us the whole way even though he didn't originally want to go. We walked around the pond. We threw pine cones into the pollen-coated water. We pretended we were going to throw children into the pollen-coated water. We visited the big rock that had been my childhood fortress. We found a mysterious deflated basketball. We returned to my parents' house. The great-nephew and his family were still there.

Hey, no big deal. My family has a long tradition of being over-protective. And for some of them the idea of having an out homo in the family is still new. They need time to get used to the knowledge that I like men and yet mysteriously do not also like little boys too. Also, I suppose the youth-worshiping nature of the gay culture doesn't help. Far too many gay men like to pretend they're still young and find the pretense of youth to be attractive in others.

Not me. I've always been attracted to men. Even when I was a young boy I found adult masculinity extraordinarily intriguing. I was never really into guys my own age.

But like my family the general public (especially the old and the conservative) is going to need time. As more and more LGBT people become more and more visible in their everyday lives, the average Joes and Janes out there will hopefully start to understand that we lead perfectly normal lives free of child-molesting tendencies. And to be perfectly blunt, individuals with such calcitrant bigoted ideas are going to eventually die off.

Good Riddance.

Monday's Minute of Anti-Hate

2009-04-20T15:18:00.002+02:00

Frank Rich over at the New York Times wrote an excellent op-ed column a couple of days ago. Everyone should take the time to read it. It makes a lot of sense. He begins breaking down the silly fear-mongering of "The Gathering Storm."

Far from terrifying anyone, “Gathering Storm” has become, unsurprisingly, an Internet camp classic. On YouTube the original video must compete with countless homemade parodies it has inspired since first turning up some 10 days ago. None may top Stephen Colbert’s on Thursday night, in which lightning from “the homo storm” strikes an Arkansas teacher, turning him gay. A “New Jersey pastor” whose church has been “turned into an Abercrombie & Fitch” declares that he likes gay people, “but only as hilarious best friends in TV and movies.”

And he finishes discussing the imminent demise of the anti-gay-marriage movement.

As marital equality haltingly but inexorably spreads state by state for gay Americans in the years to come, Utah will hardly be in the lead to follow Massachusetts, Connecticut, Iowa and Vermont. But the fact that it too is taking its first steps down that road is extraordinary. It is justice, not a storm, that is gathering. Only those who have spread the poisons of bigotry and fear have any reason to be afraid.

These two quotes are just a tiny piece of the well-written well-thought whole.

We Didn't Start the Flame War

2009-04-19T18:28:00.004+02:00

If you've ever played around in the comments section of, well, any Web site the content of this video will look familiar to you. NSFW.

Watch We Didnt Start the Flame War and more funny videos on CollegeHumor

It's from the mostly hilarious folks at College Humor. Hell, it's better than watching more videos about how effing stupid the tea-baggers were.

Teaching is Such a Drag

2009-04-18T13:23:00.003+02:00

Via Detentionslip.org:

When I was a teacher I used to think I was terrible. I was always slow to get papers back. I never liked calling home for good or bad things. I rarely felt I was accomplishing much. Looking back there are SO many things I could have done much, much worse.

According to a Cincinnati television station Web site, a Marketing teacher at Edgewood High School has resigned after she admitted taking four teenagers to a gay bar.

The story indicates three of the young women were old enough to get into the bar (18), and one wasn't (17). However NONE of the girls was old enough to drink alcohol legally, which they apparently did.

The teacher, Lori Epperson obtained permission from the students' parents to take them to the bar. Officials are still pretty much going to go for her jugular anyway, which they probably should for being so very stupid as to take underage girls to a drag show.

From Local12.com:

Stevie Moon-Mom of other Edgewood students, "She's a teacher, they're her students. They're not her friends. She's there to teach them, not to take them to clubs and party. That's ridiculous."

Jeremy Moon-Dad of other Edgewood students, "There's a level of professionalism that needs to be kept between the students and the teachers and she crossed that line, I think. I don't think that she may be wrong, I definitely think she is wrong."

The bar, Club Masque in Dayton, OH may face charges related to giving alcohol to the young women. The students were punished using an zero tolerance for alcohol policy. They were not allowed to attend a cheerleading competition in florida.

Now, I did know a teacher who hung out in strip clubs back where I used to live. (They called them titty bars back there.) But as far as I know he went separately from the students. And if he provided them with alcohol, they were smart enough to keep it quiet. Me, I never met a student I'd want to hang out with in a bar, gay or otherwise.

Tennessee Student Fights Unfair Site Blocking

2009-04-17T14:26:00.003+02:00

Via Good As You:

A 17-year-old Tennessee student was shocked to find he couldn't locate LGBT-related scholarship information on his school's computers. He discovered sites like PFLAG, GLSEN, and HRC were blocked while anti-LGBT sites like this one and this one were accessible. So he sent a letter to the ACLU, smart kid.

From the ACLU's press release regarding the student:

“When I found out about this web filtering software, I wasn’t looking for anything sexual or inappropriate – I was looking for information about scholarships for LGBT students, and I couldn’t get to it because of this software,” said Andrew Emitt, a 17-year-old senior at Central High School in Knoxville. “Our schools shouldn’t be keeping students in the dark about LGBT organizations and resources.”

[snip]

“One of the problems with this software is that it only allows students access to one side of information about topics that are part of the public debate right now, like marriage for same-sex couples,” said Karyn Storts-Brinks, a librarian at Fulton High School in Knoxville, pointing out that the software blocks access to organizations that support marriage for same-sex couples like the Religious Coalition for Freedom to Marry or the Interfaith Working Group while allowing access to organizations that oppose marriage equality. “Students who need to do research for assignments on current events can only get one viewpoint, keeping them from being able to cover both sides of the issue. That’s not fair and can hinder their schoolwork.”

This Video from WATE.com shows Emitt talking about his experience.

The ACLU responded by sending a demand letter to the school systems requesting they unblock non-adult LGBT Web sites so that student could have equal access to information.

From the ACLU:

Blocking students’ access to content that is protected speech under the First Amendment as well as the Tennessee state constitution, and only allowing access to one side of an issue by blocking certain websites is illegal viewpoint discrimination, according to a letter the ACLU sent to the districts and the Tennessee Schools Cooperative. We’re asking them to come up with a plan to restore access to the LGBT sites or any other category that blocks non-sexual websites advocating the fair treatment of LGBT people by the beginning of the 2009-2010 school year.

The Knox County School district referred the letter to the Knox County Law Director's office for review. They haven't indicated weather they will take action or wait for the lawsuit to be filed before they allow students unrestricted access to unbiased information about LGBT issues.