According to this helpful broadsheet about Proposition 8 mailed to us by the Knights of Columbus¹, there are books about gay people out there, and they *could* be used to teach gay marriage to elementary school students, whether You Like it or Not. But the important part is this quote:

A 'No' Vote Means Gay Marriage is Still Mandated

Which reminded me to remind all my California pals that just in case Prop 8 doesn't pass, that the deadline to get gay married is December 29. Don't delay - get gay married today! It's not just a good idea, it's The Law.


¹Knights of Columbus is a Catholic fraternal organization, like the Masons or Elks and such. And only a deeply cynical person would think that the funding for "Yes on 8" is coming from the Catholic Church, but the Church would prefer the ads not actually say "Thanks for putting a fiver in the collection plate, this is what we're spending it on."

So you're thinking to yourself "hey, dude, it's 2:09 AM - shouldn't you only be conflicted about whether to go to bed right now, or a minute from now?" And you'd be correct.

Except that some time in the past 40 minutes, the flag-stickers have come by. In our neighborhood, there is a real-estate agency which takes it upon itself late on the night of July 3 to stick plastic US flags into lawns across the neighborhood, with, of course, an advertisement for whichever agent they wish to promote this time. This year, it's one Bella Kay.

The trouble with this "patriotic" display is that it puts people in a difficult position.

1) People who aren't particularly patriotic. For these folks, it's not all *that* big of a deal, except until they notice the little flag they're unwillingly displaying as an opinion they don't actually have. (I doubt there are very many of these folks, but hey, let's be inclusive.)

2) People who actually ARE patriotic, who now have a flag that they did not want (because they would put out their own) and must dispose of in an appropriately respectful way. Perhaps this only applies to people who have had members of their family in the military, or people who have been in the Boy Scouts, or just people who think that the flag of our nation deserves respect. I'm pretty conflicted about it, myself.

I mean look. I believe that this nation is a pretty damned good one, or at least by gumby we set out to be a good one. The legal protection of the rights of individuals is not so bad of a way to start.

Does the flag which stands for the nation which is supposed to uphold those ideas thus deserve some respect? I think it does.

Yet I'd never prosecute anyone for burning it, especially if they were doing so to protest something the nation had done. Or throwing it in a trash can if you were trying to make some sort of statement. Remember the part about the rights of individuals? Free speech is part of that.

Nonetheless, I hate to see someone just going "well fuck, some asshole threw another piece of trash on my lawn" and chucking the thing out. It seems to me that the flag of this nation, for good or for bad, should mean *something*. If you are disrespecting it as a form of protest, then hooray! But it shouldn't be just another piece of trash that shows up on your lawn.

And that is the position that this year, Bella Kay of the Larchmont office of Coldwell Banker has put us in. Worst yet, she's only put those of us who actually give a shit in this position. Most folks will just pick it up, sigh, and throw it in the trash. Only the truly patriotic folks will be all conflicted.

Thanks, Coldwell Banker.

(Is it different than, say, a piece of mail that has the flag printed on it? I'm not sure that's a flag. Does it make a difference? Man... I dunno. It's all too complicated for the likes of me.)

(Also also, there are flags of other nations which I believe stand for the same things as well. Nobody will stick a flag of say, Denmark, or Australia, or the United Kingdom in my lawn, but should I feel the same way about their goals of the Rights o' Man?)

There is something about the whole Catholic sex abuse scandal that has been bothering me for a while. It's that people, and the media, and apparently the church itself, have been focusing on the wrong thing.

At the risk of sounding callous, the real problem is not the sexual abuse itself.

Please let me explain, and do not think for a second that I am trying to diminish the pain and shame and emotional trauma that the victims of the abuse went through. But... the abuse itself, while a crime, and reprehensible and deeply, deeply regrettable, is not a solvable problem.

The sad and terrible truth is that there are pedophiles in this world. There are pedophile priests, there are pedophile teachers, there are pedophile insurance adjusters, there are pedophile physicists, there are... pedophiles. They exist everywhere. It's not just Catholic priests, in fact, I would be incredibly surprised if there weren't a few of these assholes leading flocks in almost every religion. But even religion itself isn't the problem here, it's that sometimes, regrettably, there are predators in the world.

Worse yet, you often can't catch these people until they actually do something that someone is willing to report.

So when people get upset that the new Pope declines to meet with victims of the sexual abuse, I wonder who can blame him, because what the hell could he possibly say to make it better?

However, and this is the part that most of the media outlets seem to be missing but more importantly the Catholic Church itself seems to be missing, is that while it may not be possible to stop it from happening in the first place, it IS possible to respond properly. Which doesn't mean blaming it on "homosexual priests" or whatever blather Benedict was going on about.

It is the cover-up, and the continuing cover-up, that is the true crime. The media focuses on the abuse itself because it is titillating. The Church seems to feel that making big payouts to victims will solve the problem. It won't.

Had the pedophile priests been immediately turned over to authorities (and probably thrown out of the church, or possibly forgiven in their prison cell), this would not have been a huge deal to me, or, I think, to most thinking people. But instead the church moved the priests around, transferring them to different parishes as soon as there was a hint of trouble, even in cases where priests confided to their superiors that they did not think they could stop touching little children.

Even to this day, Los Angeles' Cardinal Roger Mahoney is refusing to give up the records of how and why his parish priests were moved around from church to church, while his Archdiocese pays out millions to shut up victims.

People can accept failings in their priests, Cardinal. Everyone is human, even pedophiles. They can be forgiven. What can't be forgiven is allowing that abuse to continue when you have, easily, not only the power to stop it but the power to give yourself some good PR by showing that you are DOING SOMETHING about the problem.

I am sorry to say that sexual abuse probably can not be stopped. But hiding it and purposefully allowing it to keep happening is a far, FAR worse sin. The entire Catholic hierarchy, from the lowest priest to the Pope Hisownself remains guilty until they promise to take the right steps the next time it happens. So far, that doesn't seem to be happening.

So, I'm feeling pretty okay about today. I suspect that this may have something to do with the fine products of a certain distillery concern located in Lynchburg, Tennessee (Pop. 361, as the label notes).

Because otherwise I'd be freaking broken, like everything else in my house: The refrigerator. My car. The vacuum cleaner. The kitchen sink. The dishwasher (sorta). Apparently the only thing holding this house together was my wife's presence.

So, the refrigerator is fixed, 263 dollars later. The vacuum cleaner I will see if I can deal with. I will call a plumber for the kitchen sink - while I am probably capable of fixing it, it's such a huge pain in the ass and in need of specialized tools that I'd rather just pay somebody. My car is fixed, it's just difficult to pick it up, but I should have the time on Monday afternoon. The dishwasher... will be okay. It still cleans things, just not as well as we'd like.

And the wife will be back on Friday. So there you have it.

So I had this little rant brewing in the back of my mind for the past week or two, because my wife watches Project Runway and they had their finale recently. I watched bits and pieces here and there, but as I sat here at the computer and listened to the finale, I kept hearing the words "wearable" or "wearability."

My initial reaction was, of course, rage: Of freaking COURSE clothes are supposed to be "wearable." People are supposed to be able to WEAR this shit, and this is what is wrong with fashion, these designers come up with insane and elaborate costumes designed to hang together for exactly 20 feet down the runway and 20 feet back, not actual CLOTHES! Why can't you assholes design CLOTHES!

RARR, I raged! Then I kept raging, screaming, "you jerks, if you're just putting together some godawful creation that couldn't be shown outside a gallery, it's not clothing, it's freaking... uh... um... art."

Well, shit. Maybe I have been looking at this the wrong way.

Maybe it's art. And, well, it's not like the stores aren't filled with actual clothes that express "wearability" so much so that it's pretty much all they've got. It's not like the selection at Wal-Mart and Target and Fashion Bee (and to be fair, at better clothing stores as well) change every season based on what happens in Milan. Haute couture is not destroying your mom's ability to buy a nice dress for your sister's graduation.

Hm. So, okay. Let's take "fashion" as its highest expression - runway shows and the like, not just stuff for everybody to wear - we're talking Paris Fashion Week, New York Fashion Week, etc. Nobody but nobody expects these creations to be sold on racks nationwide. They are there to, presumably, show off a designer's creativity.

The question: Is fashion - namely, a highly-designed piece meant to be displayed once, even if that display is on a person's body... is it art?

Today's dueling headlines:

Calls in Sudan for Execution of Briton (for allowing a teddy bear to be named "Mohammed")
Papal Letter Blames Atheism for World's Worst Woes

If I'd made these up, you would all laugh at me for being ridiculously over the top.

My only further commentary, with apologies to Ogden Nash:

Mohammed the Bear
Should we care?

He was sad to be blasphemous
When he'd only been made to be fuzzimous

He wanted to have his fur ruffed and mussed
But Islam wanted him to be Inquistion-esed,

Lo! How sad to be a bear of very little blame,
When folks are calling for death over your name.

A moveable feast was created over the past few days. We (and by "we" I do mean "we" but also I mean "mostly my wife") cooked and cooked on Tuesday, Wednesday, and today to create a full-on bitchin' Turkey Day that could be transported to my mom's house: Appetizers (including a delicious pate), salad, dinner rolls, mashed potatoes, green beans, stuffing, fancy-ass experimental cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie. Every single bit of it was home made, with the exception of the appetizer cheese and the canned cranberry schmutz that my wife likes. (Which, for all I know, is ambrosia for people who like cranberries.) Oh, and of course there was a roasted turkey, carved inexpertly by yours truly mere minutes before we left for mom's house.

In the rush, though, the rack of the turkey, as well as some delicious skin and other delectable/interesting turkey bits were left behind, such as the little nodule of goodness that hangs off the end of the cavity, and the wishbone, and a fair amount of meat from the legs and such. But we were pressed for time, these things had to be left where they were, on the kitchen table. With only a gate standing between this pile of mostly bone but also a lot of deliciousness... and the dogs. The ravenous, ravenous dogs.

As we drove away, my wife said "I sure hope they don't break down the gate and get at the rack!" We laughed nervously. Ha ha ha ha ha. Yes, that would be awful, ha ha ha.

Well, you already know what happened, don't you? Yes. They managed to break down the gate, something that they've never been motivated enough to do before. But then again we've never left the cooling remains of what has to smell like heaven to a dog nose AND the gate was a bit loose in the door frame.

The good news? Neither of the dogs died from choking to death on a splintered turkey bone. The bad news is that our kitchen looked like the pit of that monster in Star Wars - broken bits of bones everywhere - and remarkably, a few bits of turkey still left in place on the kitchen table. I guess the dogs ate and ate until they got not just full, but tired. Also, apparently one of the dogs, we know not which, was so excited at getting to eat turkey that she pissed on the floor. Whee.

Molly has been whining at us all evening, though does not actually seem to be sick. Small puffs seem to be escaping her anterior aperture, so I think she's just got gas. I imagine that'll probably happen when you crunch up that much bone and give it to your stomach acid to deal with, eh? Just rewards, my fine young pup.

So what we have learned is this:

1) Amazingly enough, Molly can actually be filled. Hard to believe but apparently true.

2) No matter HOW pressed for time, don't leave that kind of temptation not only in nose range but also in sight of these dogs. It's not fair to the dogs, and bad things will happen.

3) Make sure the gate has well-tightened wall connections at all times (especially now that they know the thing can be broken down with enough persistence - it should be solid if it's tight enough, which it wasn't tonight.)

4) Our dogs are bastard, bastard dogs. Their parents were not married.

A Ms. Amelie Gillette, author of the Onion's weekly "The Hater - Pop Culture Something Or Other" asks us, "Star Whats?"

I've never seen "Star Wars." This is partly because I was either nonexistent or significantly lacking in motor skills when they first came out, and partly because I'm generally not interested in outer-space adventures. I don't just mean the Star Wars prequels starring Hayden Chritensen and Natalie Portman as the world's most wooden members of future space royalty. I've never seen any of them, including "Star Wars," "The Empire Strikes Back," and "Return of the Jedi." What's more unless they suddenly somehow become about something other than outer space, I don't plan on seeing them. Which usually makes people pretty angry, or at least shocked.

She goes on to explain that she has received a Cliffs Notes of Star Wars because so much pop culture references Star Wars, and how that is in fact better than watching it.

Well, I am neither angry nor shocked, though I am surprised that if you wish to bill yourself as someone versed in pop culture, that you would actively ignore one of the largest artifacts of pop culture. Imagine, for instance, an Egyptologist who declined to visit Tut's tomb, because hey, enough people have talked about it, I get the general idea.

But really, it is the smugness that bothers me. And the idea that it is about an outer-space adventure. No random outer-space adventure could capture the mind the way Star Wars does. It is, and I assure you I am not the first person to mention this, a retelling of the Joseph Campbell hero story with a thin veneer of sci-fi pasted on. It's not ABOUT outer space, eejit, it's about people, and it happens in outer space.

The best science fiction, which I am sorry to say that Star Wars actually isn't, uses new and imagined technologies and strange settings to explore, well, us. Isaac Asimov tried to explain and define what is human. Poul Anderson used sci-fi to attempt to find an answer to the question of who is God and why it's important. Niven and Pournelle kept chopping away at what is right and good and moral and why. And Harlan Ellison kept reminding us how once we thought we'd found the answers, that we were terribly, terribly wrong and needed to start over and think again.

It is a shame that most people's view of "Science Fiction" is still set by, say, Flash Gordon and the like. And it's kind of sad, I guess, that someone who calls herself a pop-culture expert refuses to see a movie about the hero in all of us, merely because it's not set in her home town.

I'm tired and cranky and I blame YOU. Yes, you.

I would advise against doing any business with Chase Manhattan bank, and especially against getting a credit card from them. No matter what rate they promise you, I assure you that they will continually raise it.

I've gotten these promises from them. And I've been doing business with them for 19 years, have never missed or been late on a payment in NINETEEN FUCKING YEARS, have been such a good customer that my credit limit has gone from the initial $500 to over $20,000... and yet they've still seen fit to slowly jack up the interest rate on my card to 21.99%. Over the past few years I've never owed them enough that it was a big deal (high balance=$4,342), so I only noticed it a few months ago when they sent me a brochure explaining how I could keep from getting interest rate increases, which was apparently filled with LIES. Because even though at that time my rate was under 20 percent, it's still gone up despite my making quite regular payments.

I'm keeping their goddamned card, but for no other reason than my credit rating - having a long-standing relationship helps, and also having 20 grand in unused credit helps too. But only catastrophe will ever make me charge anything on it ever again. It will forevermore be a piece of plastic that sits in my "important documents" drawer and almost never sees the light of day.

Oh, and my balance is -0.40 and has been for the past two months. I wonder, if they keep my 40 cents for long enough, can I sue them for the forty cents plus 22% interest? I'd like to. It wouldn't make me any money, but it'd still be fun. I'm sure there's something in the fine print that prevents doing so, the fuckers of pigs.

Anyway, the upshot is: Don't do any business with Chase Visa, Chase Mastercard, or Chase Manhattan Bank. No matter how long of a relationship you've had with Chase, they will still fuck you over if they think they can squeeze a few more bucks out of you.

Please leave Abraham Lincoln alone. It is not necessary to continue trying to find new things that were apparently wrong with him. Anyway, glowing health is no guarantee of other Presidential qualities.

I'm not normally anti-people, but honestly?  Reading comments on YouTube makes me wish for the extermination of the entire human race.

I beg your indulgence for the following short paragraph, concerning taxes and what must be done by those of us who do things properly yadda yadda yadda:

FUCKING STUPID GODDAMNED BITCHES I HATE YOU AND YOUR FUCKING SCHEDULES AND THE STATE IS EVEN WORSE AND FUCK ALL OF YOU FUCK FUCK HATE HATE HATE HATE FUCK HATE FUCK

Thank you, that is all for this year. See you around January/February-ish of next year.

There are very few things less relaxing than being told to relax.