Come and meet the Letter People

WSET-TV, my local low-production quality news source, had a segment on the Ex-Gay movement last night. I listened to the amazingly anti-charismatic Jerry Falwell Jr. speak about stuff he knows nothing about. Luckily the topic was about homosexuality otherwise I would've fallen asleep right there on the elliptical machine he's that boring. They interviewed others in the Walters/King softball style of questioning. The whole segment went essentially like this: "Blah, blah, blah... gays can change. Blah, blah, blah...no they can't."

This lack of journalistic integrity infuriated me. In the crowded Jamerson YMCA I gave the TV the tallest finger salute twice and said "stupid mother fucking fuckers". That got the attention of my fellow sweathogs.

So I went to wset.com to see what kind of comments were being posted by my fellow free-thinking intelligent citizens. I've never seen so many scriptural references being lobbed back and forth in my life. It was like Sunday School with weaponry. Someone needed to stop the dogma war and I politely stepped in with this little post:

We live in a country where freedom of religion means that anyone can believe whatever and worship whomever they choose. And that is wonderful! Do whatever you wish in the name of your religion unless you harm others. When what you believe becomes detrimental or actively hurts people, no matter how willing they might be, society has a duty to step in and protect them.

Many people are commenting here with scriptural references to back up what they believe but you are arguing the wrong thing. Believe whatever you want. Interpret your holy books however you want. That's not the real problem here. Convince me that you are doing no psychological harm to these individuals. That's all I care about. I'll never convince you that gays can be made straight and you will never convince me otherwise. Just assure me that you are not harming these people. And remember, I don't share the same religion as you so quoting the bible, no matter how accurate, is not going make a good argument.

Holy Mother Loving Roller Skating Jebus. Never has the lack of an 'T made such a difference. I'm off to brush up on my Tall Teeth.

Spin it Gramps!

Ever since Gordon Hinckley (Grandpa and Grand Pooba to Mormons everywhere) died, I've been trying to verbalize how I felt about him and his passing.

Since I am a little busy today, I'll let Troy Williams tell you EXACTLY how I feel.

Fond memories from Windblown Dandelion

Sometimes, on days like today, I'm reminded of my time at the New Oneida commune in Northern California. There life was slow, love was free and the food always burnt.

Oh how I fondly recall when Starwhisper would gently kick me awake every morning to lick the dew off the grass while breathing in the sun's birth rays with my eyes. We would soak it in while eating his strangely piquant mushroom omelets. What amazing sights and feelings! I've never been able to recapture it alone. That Starwhisper had a magic all his own!

And how could I forget the dances around the fires at night as we dialed in to Nature's frequency. The chanting, the drumming, the searching for a spot to commune with a tree and big, soft leaves. Hopefully in a spot that no one has communed before you. Those nights when our Cirque du Soleil friends visiting from Reno would join in the festivities singing their polite French Canadian folksongs were not to be missed! Oh the costumes and contortioning!

I would live it all over again! Even the time we had that run in with the camping NRA club. But not our misguided attempt to attend Burning Man... I still have a quickened standing heart rate from that little "adventure".

Oh New Oneida, I'll never be able to forget you!

Why I Heart Apple Juice

Yesterday I had a little run in with some dust. Well, more like a 50 car pile up.

He're the deets. I got to work and noticed that the office was in serious need of some dustbusting and I provided. And promptly after the good deed came the punishment. My throat completely closed up. In bear trap fashion it snapped shut and wouldn't even open to my raccoon-skin cap Daniel Boone-like strength. I could breathe fine but could swallow nothing. Not a drop of water. AND to top it off with rich velvety buttercream, my body's natural defenses went to DEFCON 5 and immediately started to produce copious amounts of a clear viscous liquid. I felt like I was in an airport security line: choking on my own defenses.

After 58 trips to the bathroom, 10 hiccup hoedowns, 3 attempts to sprinkle antihistamines under my tongue (bitter, bitter, nastiness), 2 resolutions to go to the emergency room, and 1 hot bath, I fell asleep. I was sure I was gonna drown as my own zealous immune system kept finding untapped sources of phlegm.

But never fear! I woke and felt like Tutankhamen must feel when he rises to politely choke archaeologists - cranky, creaky and made of dust. I've never been so dehydrated. I lurched to the fridge, poured a tall, cold glass of apple juice, put it to my lips and paused. What if I still couldn't swallow? My mind rapidly went through a delightful scenario with a trip to the hospital tended by the pigfaced nurses from the Twilight Zone who forcefully ram a stint down my throat. I shuddered and delicately sipped..... Heaven. Gloriously cool bliss. This wasn't apple juice! Somebody must have switched it with liquid gold!

Facebook Fauxpas

Ok, here's the deal. Hey! Listen up. When I say "listen up" that means you stop talking and start listening. Ok then. Here it is.

When you are thinking about posting your main photo on Facebook, for the love of Phil Hartman, PLEASE BE IN YOUR PHOTO!!!

I don't want to see a pic of your baby. I don't want to be friends with your whole family. I want to see you! I want to reconnect with YOU. Yes, yes, I am sure you are very proud that you finally got married after years and years of searching for that one person who can accommodate all your weird ticks and quirks. AND I'm sure you want eeeeeeveryone to know that you had sex and eventually squeezed out a lump of flesh that's not even a person yet. But please people, that's what your photo albums are for.

Eventually I'll get to hear about your wonderful spouse and all 15 kids you've astoundingly had in less than a decade. And I will be ecstatic for you. I'm great at being happy with people. It's one of my super powers. But for right now I want to see YOU and tell YOU how much I've missed you. You left a hole in my life that neither your baby, your hunky spouse or your whole family can fill. Only you.