People go to MySpace to flirt, to chat, to check out pictures, to catch up with friends.
More and more, they also go there to mourn.
Many American soldiers have MySpace profiles, a comforting reminder of home, of normalcy, of sanity. And when those soldiers die in Iraq, their sites stay active, unspeakably sad ghost pages in cyber space. Usually, there's a picture of the soldier, sometimes trying to look tough, sometimes trying to look cool, sometimes abandoning all pretense and simply smiling a kid's disarming smile.
Friends migrate to the dead soldier's page to say how much they loved him, to thank him for his heroism. To say goodbye.
If virtual tears exist, these pages are soaked.
It's difficult to look at the ghost pages, and I've done so rarely, in part because I wonder if I'm violating a dead kid's privacy by doing so, in part because they shatter my heart. But, sometimes, you need a reality check. You need to shake your head and forget about a delusionally evil president and his handlers. You need to forget about the politics. You need to forget about the big picture and zoom in on the people, the hundreds of thousands of Iraqis and the 3,454 Americans whose lives have been -- as the now justly marginalized and ridiculed John McCain said in an unguarded moment -- wasted.
So today I typed in the name of an 18-year-old soldier from Montana -- Matthew -- who was killed by friendly fire a week after arriving in Iraq. His mentor, another young soldier, died with him -- on perhaps his final day of combat duty. Time magazine reported that the Montana kid had been rushed into combat with inadequate training.
For those who knew and loved Matthew, of course, politics means nothing.
Their messages on his MySpace page are heartbreaking. One example:
OMG, MATT, IM SOR SORRY i GET TO SAY GOODBYE IM REally sorry, you'll be really miss now more than ever,since theres no goona be more chances for us to see each othere again I'll miss you budy, RIP,
In his boy-next-door profile on MySpace, Matthew wrote in the "Interests" section: "A happy life at my home and hopfully i can have children soon." He described himself -- with a smile, I'm sure -- as a "swinger." He was 5-foot-8 and "slim/slender." His education level: "High school." His occupation: "Army."
I'm reluctant -- out of respect for his privacy -- to put his picture here and to post more of his friends' anguished goodbyes. But, obviously, this was as typical a kid as you're going to find in the Army. A kid who no doubt believed his country would never spend his life recklessly. It's important to see his face and his heart.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Skin
Nothing is more sensual for me than when I first catch a glimpse of a sexy guy's skin, be it his side, his back, his belly. To pull up his shirt and lay my hands on his bare skin is electrifying.
Why, I don't know.
Skin, after all, is almost devalued now. Exposed flesh is more common than Big Macs. Girls, especially, have decided they have to show off their guts and backs. Fat chicks -- "It's my body, and I'm proud of it!" -- seem to take special pleasure in unburdening their shirts. Gobs of flesh droop over their pants as they thunder past in low-rise jeans licking ice cream cones. Guys are less obvious about it, opting for one-size-too-small T-shirts that hug the contours of their muscles while also offering peeks of skin here and there. But television makes up for any lack of male flesh in the real world. MTV is a swirl of hips, backs, nipples, belly-buttons, chests, sides and abs. So is every other youth-oriented channel.
Yet, somehow, the heart-pounding mystery of skin persists. Will it be dry or oily, smooth or hairy, darker or lighter? Will it be freckled or flawless, bony or muscled? Will the nipples be flat or pointed? Will the navel be a swirl, a plug, a simple indentation? So many possibilities, so many little surprises when the moment arrives. Unless, of course, you've seen the guy shirtless. Then, the mystery is gone, replaced perhaps by something less romantic -- lust.
Why, I don't know.
Skin, after all, is almost devalued now. Exposed flesh is more common than Big Macs. Girls, especially, have decided they have to show off their guts and backs. Fat chicks -- "It's my body, and I'm proud of it!" -- seem to take special pleasure in unburdening their shirts. Gobs of flesh droop over their pants as they thunder past in low-rise jeans licking ice cream cones. Guys are less obvious about it, opting for one-size-too-small T-shirts that hug the contours of their muscles while also offering peeks of skin here and there. But television makes up for any lack of male flesh in the real world. MTV is a swirl of hips, backs, nipples, belly-buttons, chests, sides and abs. So is every other youth-oriented channel.
Yet, somehow, the heart-pounding mystery of skin persists. Will it be dry or oily, smooth or hairy, darker or lighter? Will it be freckled or flawless, bony or muscled? Will the nipples be flat or pointed? Will the navel be a swirl, a plug, a simple indentation? So many possibilities, so many little surprises when the moment arrives. Unless, of course, you've seen the guy shirtless. Then, the mystery is gone, replaced perhaps by something less romantic -- lust.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Rubber Necking at Walmart
Come gather round, people, wherever you roam -- the times they really are a changing.
I was walking through the main aisle at Walmart -- the one in front of the cash registers with the constantly changing array of merchandise to entice weak-willed shoppers -- when my eyes spied ... are you ready? ... condoms.
Or c-c-c-c-condoms, as Kramer might say.
And not some will-it-be-a-boy-or-a-girl brand straight from China, but honest-to-penis Trojans. In Harrisonburg, Va., of all places. Yes, we're a college town -- metro population: 115,000, I'll have you know -- but we're also Church City, USA. Mennonites, Brethrens and evangelicals are big influences here, and they absofuckinglutely hate sex.
Yet, there they were -- condoms.
Walmart frequently surprises me. For all its flaws, it has been progressive on gay rights among its employees, it's becoming a major force in organic foods and -- in a nod to the environment -- it's now pressuring suppliers to significantly cut back on packaging.
But condoms! Up front! Right where little Melody and Jeremiah can see them! Fuck.
I was walking through the main aisle at Walmart -- the one in front of the cash registers with the constantly changing array of merchandise to entice weak-willed shoppers -- when my eyes spied ... are you ready? ... condoms.
Or c-c-c-c-condoms, as Kramer might say.
And not some will-it-be-a-boy-or-a-girl brand straight from China, but honest-to-penis Trojans. In Harrisonburg, Va., of all places. Yes, we're a college town -- metro population: 115,000, I'll have you know -- but we're also Church City, USA. Mennonites, Brethrens and evangelicals are big influences here, and they absofuckinglutely hate sex.
Yet, there they were -- condoms.
Walmart frequently surprises me. For all its flaws, it has been progressive on gay rights among its employees, it's becoming a major force in organic foods and -- in a nod to the environment -- it's now pressuring suppliers to significantly cut back on packaging.
But condoms! Up front! Right where little Melody and Jeremiah can see them! Fuck.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
The Fem Boy
A kid walked into the Nepalese restaurant in Harrisonburg this evening. Obviously gay. Mod haircut. A tight shirt revealing the countour of his chest and belly. A peek of skin when he leaned against the counter. A man's purse strapped around his back.
He walked like fem gay kids walk -- fast and scared. His face was blank and tense, almost unnervingly so. No doubt he's been the object of ridicule most of his life, so I assume he's put up an emotional shield.
When he entered the restaurant, he glanced quickly at me -- my table was directly beside the door -- and I smiled. I hope he saw the smile. And I hope he knew the smile was meant to convey love, not scorn.
Even in the gay community, you still see warnings on guys' on-line chat-room profiles: "no fems." In a way, it's our version of the dark-skinned/light-skinned black conflict. The "straight-acting" gays feel superior to the feminine gays.
I find the "no fems" admonition offensive, partly because it tries to marginalize a group of people -- something gays should be familiar with -- and partly because those guys face enough daily trauma in the straight world without being ostracized by their gay brothers.
But to be honest -- and it hurts to be honest -- I sometimes wince when I see "flaming fags." I absofuckinglutely hate having that reaction. But it's there. Why, I don't know -- I assume it's something middle America taught me as I grew up -- and I'm determined to fight it.
So I strip away the pretense and look into the eyes of those fem guys. Try it. You'll see a scared puppy. And you'll see another human being, a human being longing for the same things you want: love, companionship, respect and security.
He walked like fem gay kids walk -- fast and scared. His face was blank and tense, almost unnervingly so. No doubt he's been the object of ridicule most of his life, so I assume he's put up an emotional shield.
When he entered the restaurant, he glanced quickly at me -- my table was directly beside the door -- and I smiled. I hope he saw the smile. And I hope he knew the smile was meant to convey love, not scorn.
Even in the gay community, you still see warnings on guys' on-line chat-room profiles: "no fems." In a way, it's our version of the dark-skinned/light-skinned black conflict. The "straight-acting" gays feel superior to the feminine gays.
I find the "no fems" admonition offensive, partly because it tries to marginalize a group of people -- something gays should be familiar with -- and partly because those guys face enough daily trauma in the straight world without being ostracized by their gay brothers.
But to be honest -- and it hurts to be honest -- I sometimes wince when I see "flaming fags." I absofuckinglutely hate having that reaction. But it's there. Why, I don't know -- I assume it's something middle America taught me as I grew up -- and I'm determined to fight it.
So I strip away the pretense and look into the eyes of those fem guys. Try it. You'll see a scared puppy. And you'll see another human being, a human being longing for the same things you want: love, companionship, respect and security.
I hope I see that kid again. I hope he looks at me. I hope he sees me smile. And I hope he smiles back.
(Another post from my other blog, but I think the sentiments are worth repeating now and then.)
10 Things
OK, being old and wise, here are 10 things I've learned in life:
1) Seize the moment. I've mentioned Robert Frost's poem, "Wind and Window Flower," in an earlier entry. It's the one about a winter wind that flirts with a flower in a windowsill. The flower can't decide whether it wants to hook up with the winter wind. By the time it makes up its mind, the winter wind is a hundred miles away. Believe it or not, life's short. We live only 2.5 billion seconds, and they go oh-so-quickly. Don't let life -- and all of its adventures, carnal and otherwise -- slip away.
2) Be generous. Money ain't shit. Spend it on your friends. And never ever ask a friend to pay you back.
3) Don't be coy. Paul McCartney was right: It's a fool who plays it cool by making his world a little bit colder. In other words, be eager. If somebody you like asks you out to dinner, go for it -- enthusiastically. Don't hide your emotions. And don't downplay your love or lust.
4) Read until your eyeballs drop out. I spend much of my life around 20-something guys, so I know that's an alien concept to most people under 40. But if you don't read after you get out of school, you'll stop growing. You'll become one of those old farts whose cultural tastes are frozen in their youth, who grow increasingly narrow-minded as they age, who find new ideas more frightening than exhilarating. Read at least one great newspaper every day -- meaning the New York Times or Washington Post -- to get a quick snapshot of the world each morning, however imperfect that snapshot might be. Read the New Yorker every week to remain culturally literate. Read novels now and then to nourish your soul. Read non-fiction books to give your opinions enough depth to be taken seriously. Do that, and you'll never stagnate.
5) Love people before you love your country. Love an Iraqi kid as much as you love an American kid. Because we're all the same -- we all want love, we all want security, we all want respect. Doesn't matter what color, ethnicity, religion or social class you are.
6) Be extremely skeptical of anything you're taught in school. If they tell you that the American criminal justice system is fair, think of O.J. -- think of how anyone with enough money for a brilliant lawyer can beat a murder rap, and how anyone with a court-appointed attorney is fucked. If they tell you that the high courts are blind to political considerations, think of Gore vs. Bush -- think of how the federal government's Republican Supreme Court tried to secure the 2000 election for George Bush and how the Florida government's Democratic Supreme Court tried to secure the election for Al Gore. If they tell you that American democracy is a beacon for the world, think of that same 2000 election -- think of how the people's will was circumvented in favor of the ruling class' preferred candidate. If they tell you that America is morally superior to other countries, think of atom bombs falling on Japan, think of napalm melting the skin off of Vietnamese peasants, think of the elected leader of Chile being overthrown, think of the Pentagon's glee at "shock and awe" in Baghdad. If they tell you that the American press is completely independent, think of Iraq -- think of how papers fell in line like tin soldiers when Bush was whipping up support for the war, think of how we never see pictures depicting the real horrors of war, think of how papers cozy up to the Washington establishment at things like the Gridiron Dinner. If you're got two oil men running the executive branch and they tell you that oil has nothing to do with a war, think only one thing -- impeach the motherfuckers.
7) When you become a boss, bend over backward to respect your workers. It took me awhile to learn that. But I now understand the importance of listening to them and consulting with them rather than barking orders at them. For one thing, they will be much better employees if they feel they have a direct stake in the everyday product. For another thing, they almost always deserve to be treated kindly and with respect. If I were to yell at one of my guys, he'd be in turmoil at least until he saw me again, probably a day later. That wouldn't be fair. Everybody in the world has an inherent right to be happy. At the same time, you need to push your workers to be the best they can be. But they need to know you're doing so only because you care about both their careers and personal lives. When I criticize one of my writers, I often preface it by saying, "You know I love you like a brown-spotted banana, Javy, but ..."
8) Always remember: You only live once. So if you want a bottle of wine, buy it. If you want a fancy meal, get it. Don't pinch pennies. You might be dead tomorrow.
9) Don't hurt people's feelings. Little white lies aren't sins. I mean, if your mother gives you a pie and it sucks, tell her how much you enjoyed it. She'll feel great, and so will you.
10) Make your body a priority. Whether you're 20 or 60, go to the gym. Keep yourself toned, build up your stamina. Don't put things in your body that will hurt you -- like Hostess Twinkies or cocaine. I shop for a lot of my basic groceries at Wal-mart. Which is good, because Wal-mart has more fat butts and guts per capita than any other location in America -- and all I have to do is look around and any urge I have to buy ice cream or doughnuts will evaporate.
1) Seize the moment. I've mentioned Robert Frost's poem, "Wind and Window Flower," in an earlier entry. It's the one about a winter wind that flirts with a flower in a windowsill. The flower can't decide whether it wants to hook up with the winter wind. By the time it makes up its mind, the winter wind is a hundred miles away. Believe it or not, life's short. We live only 2.5 billion seconds, and they go oh-so-quickly. Don't let life -- and all of its adventures, carnal and otherwise -- slip away.
2) Be generous. Money ain't shit. Spend it on your friends. And never ever ask a friend to pay you back.
3) Don't be coy. Paul McCartney was right: It's a fool who plays it cool by making his world a little bit colder. In other words, be eager. If somebody you like asks you out to dinner, go for it -- enthusiastically. Don't hide your emotions. And don't downplay your love or lust.
4) Read until your eyeballs drop out. I spend much of my life around 20-something guys, so I know that's an alien concept to most people under 40. But if you don't read after you get out of school, you'll stop growing. You'll become one of those old farts whose cultural tastes are frozen in their youth, who grow increasingly narrow-minded as they age, who find new ideas more frightening than exhilarating. Read at least one great newspaper every day -- meaning the New York Times or Washington Post -- to get a quick snapshot of the world each morning, however imperfect that snapshot might be. Read the New Yorker every week to remain culturally literate. Read novels now and then to nourish your soul. Read non-fiction books to give your opinions enough depth to be taken seriously. Do that, and you'll never stagnate.
5) Love people before you love your country. Love an Iraqi kid as much as you love an American kid. Because we're all the same -- we all want love, we all want security, we all want respect. Doesn't matter what color, ethnicity, religion or social class you are.
6) Be extremely skeptical of anything you're taught in school. If they tell you that the American criminal justice system is fair, think of O.J. -- think of how anyone with enough money for a brilliant lawyer can beat a murder rap, and how anyone with a court-appointed attorney is fucked. If they tell you that the high courts are blind to political considerations, think of Gore vs. Bush -- think of how the federal government's Republican Supreme Court tried to secure the 2000 election for George Bush and how the Florida government's Democratic Supreme Court tried to secure the election for Al Gore. If they tell you that American democracy is a beacon for the world, think of that same 2000 election -- think of how the people's will was circumvented in favor of the ruling class' preferred candidate. If they tell you that America is morally superior to other countries, think of atom bombs falling on Japan, think of napalm melting the skin off of Vietnamese peasants, think of the elected leader of Chile being overthrown, think of the Pentagon's glee at "shock and awe" in Baghdad. If they tell you that the American press is completely independent, think of Iraq -- think of how papers fell in line like tin soldiers when Bush was whipping up support for the war, think of how we never see pictures depicting the real horrors of war, think of how papers cozy up to the Washington establishment at things like the Gridiron Dinner. If you're got two oil men running the executive branch and they tell you that oil has nothing to do with a war, think only one thing -- impeach the motherfuckers.
7) When you become a boss, bend over backward to respect your workers. It took me awhile to learn that. But I now understand the importance of listening to them and consulting with them rather than barking orders at them. For one thing, they will be much better employees if they feel they have a direct stake in the everyday product. For another thing, they almost always deserve to be treated kindly and with respect. If I were to yell at one of my guys, he'd be in turmoil at least until he saw me again, probably a day later. That wouldn't be fair. Everybody in the world has an inherent right to be happy. At the same time, you need to push your workers to be the best they can be. But they need to know you're doing so only because you care about both their careers and personal lives. When I criticize one of my writers, I often preface it by saying, "You know I love you like a brown-spotted banana, Javy, but ..."
8) Always remember: You only live once. So if you want a bottle of wine, buy it. If you want a fancy meal, get it. Don't pinch pennies. You might be dead tomorrow.
9) Don't hurt people's feelings. Little white lies aren't sins. I mean, if your mother gives you a pie and it sucks, tell her how much you enjoyed it. She'll feel great, and so will you.
10) Make your body a priority. Whether you're 20 or 60, go to the gym. Keep yourself toned, build up your stamina. Don't put things in your body that will hurt you -- like Hostess Twinkies or cocaine. I shop for a lot of my basic groceries at Wal-mart. Which is good, because Wal-mart has more fat butts and guts per capita than any other location in America -- and all I have to do is look around and any urge I have to buy ice cream or doughnuts will evaporate.
My Cool? Va-po-rized.
So, I'm curious: How long will it take before other guys interest me? You know, what with the love thing. Which I still absofuckinlutely hate, by the way. I mean, it vaporizes your cool in an insta-second. You're bitchy, you're jealous, you're mopey. It's disgusting. I freakin hate myself right now. I'd chop off my dick if I wasn't so attached to it.
Anyway, as I was implying, other guys still don't interest me at all. Cutest guy in the world could wag his butt in my face and I'd yawn. Just because of this love shit. And, as you probably know by now, I have zero chance with the guy I'm ga-ga over. I mean, he's straight, or at least he thinks he is, which at this point is just as bad. And there's a gazillion other reasons why I need to erase the dude from my memory banks -- all of which come down to one bottom line: It's consuming every spare second of my rapidly ticking life.
(I wrote this last year on another personal blog. So far, nobody else has caught my eye. But I'm at least dating again. Baby steps? Yeah, but that's better than nothing, no?)
Anyway, as I was implying, other guys still don't interest me at all. Cutest guy in the world could wag his butt in my face and I'd yawn. Just because of this love shit. And, as you probably know by now, I have zero chance with the guy I'm ga-ga over. I mean, he's straight, or at least he thinks he is, which at this point is just as bad. And there's a gazillion other reasons why I need to erase the dude from my memory banks -- all of which come down to one bottom line: It's consuming every spare second of my rapidly ticking life.
(I wrote this last year on another personal blog. So far, nobody else has caught my eye. But I'm at least dating again. Baby steps? Yeah, but that's better than nothing, no?)
Saturday, May 12, 2007
He Pays WHAT!?!?!
One of my former writers -- a Manhattan native whose father once owned a Times Square restaurant called Hamburger Harry's -- returned to New York City to attend grad school after leaving Harrisonburg. While doing so, he applied for a housing lottery. The lottery was open only to people who met certain criteria, low income among them. He won.
The reward was a loft in the Financial District for, at the time, less than $300 a month. He also had to put down a $16,000 deposit, refundable if he moves out. Sixteen-grand sounds like a lot until you consider that he, essentially, made it back in a year because of the absurdly low rent. Since moving into the loft two or three years ago, he's gotten at job with a Time-Warner magazine and is making more money, so his rent is now just below $500 a month -- still a steal in Manhattan. How much of a steal? Check this out (from the New York Times):
The rents for one-bedroom apartments in Manhattan average $2,567 a month, and two-bedrooms average $3,854 a month, according to data from Citi Habitats, a large rental brokerage company, but rents tend to be far higher in coveted neighborhoods like the Upper West Side and TriBeCa.
Because landlords typically require renters to earn 40 times their monthly rent in annual income, renters of those average apartments would need to earn at least $102,680, individually or combined, to qualify for a one-bedroom and $154,160 to afford a two-bedroom.
I have no moral qualms with any of this. Manhattan is an island. Space is precious. Prices reflect that. Ideally, of course, people of all incomes could afford to live there -- ideally because diversity gives places character. Fortunately, there are enough dumps in the East Village and Lower East Side to keep the place honest for a while longer.
The reward was a loft in the Financial District for, at the time, less than $300 a month. He also had to put down a $16,000 deposit, refundable if he moves out. Sixteen-grand sounds like a lot until you consider that he, essentially, made it back in a year because of the absurdly low rent. Since moving into the loft two or three years ago, he's gotten at job with a Time-Warner magazine and is making more money, so his rent is now just below $500 a month -- still a steal in Manhattan. How much of a steal? Check this out (from the New York Times):
The rents for one-bedroom apartments in Manhattan average $2,567 a month, and two-bedrooms average $3,854 a month, according to data from Citi Habitats, a large rental brokerage company, but rents tend to be far higher in coveted neighborhoods like the Upper West Side and TriBeCa.
Because landlords typically require renters to earn 40 times their monthly rent in annual income, renters of those average apartments would need to earn at least $102,680, individually or combined, to qualify for a one-bedroom and $154,160 to afford a two-bedroom.
I have no moral qualms with any of this. Manhattan is an island. Space is precious. Prices reflect that. Ideally, of course, people of all incomes could afford to live there -- ideally because diversity gives places character. Fortunately, there are enough dumps in the East Village and Lower East Side to keep the place honest for a while longer.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Here Kitty, Kitty
My favorite T-shirt is black with a catty message: "So Many Right Wing Christians. So Few Lions." I don't wear it in public, simply because it would offend most people. But I love the sentiment.I guess the bottom line is I don't understand fundamentalists. And, in truth, I don't respect them. I don't respect them because they form their beliefs on blind faith. Logic? Forget it. If the Bible says it happened, it happened. If the Bible suggests it's bad, it's bad. Want proof? The Bible says ... And that's where they lose me. Quoting scripture in a argument about religion is like quoting Bush in an argument about Iraq. If I'm doubting the premise, quoting the source won't convince me.
Needless to stay, many churches are wonderful institutions. They glue together communities, perform valuable charitable work worldwide and are a source of comfort to millions of people. Others, just as obviously, are evil. They preach intolerance, reinforce prejudices and demonize gays -- which is where I come in.
Being gay, it's hard for me to look fondly on religion. Even most mainstream churches believe that gay sex is an abomination. Most say they love all people, including sinners like gays. But most also marginalize gay people by treating them -- however benignly -- as deviants. Again, many churches do important charitable work. But why should I embrace them?
If there is a god, I can't imagine he created me and my gay friends by mistake or as a diabolical joke. If there is a god, I know he would consider me as much a part of him as Mother Teresa or Billy Graham. He wouldn't ask me to repent, which would come as news to people like the senior editor who said I was going to hell for having sex out of wedlock unless I confessed my sins or to places like Eastern Mennonite University that expel or fire gay people for having sex out of wedlock -- not because they're gay, EMU insists, but because they're not married. The catch 22? EMU opposes gay marriage. So if you're gay and never have sex, you're A-OK.
What bullshit.
Obama Obody
I'm as intrigued by Barack Obama as anyone. I'd vote for him over Hillary in a heartbeat, even though I think he's being a little too mainstream, a little too ruling class in his statements these days. But what about the sex appeal factor? I think Obama is cute, but he certainly looks better in his suits than in his swim trunks, no? (Though I could see a couple of nipple rings on that chest.)
Yum 1: Beans and Pasta
Beans and pasta. Odd, no? But this is really good:
1) Pour some olive oil in a skillet
2) Saute a leek or half an onion with several garlic cloves
3) Add red pepper flakes
4) Add sweet red or yellow bell pepper (diced or cut into little strips)
5) Add a handful of sliced grape tomatoes
5) Add a little salt and some black pepper
6) Add bitter greens (I use escarole, radicchio and endive, which you can buy separately or in Dole's Mediterranean mix)
7) Add half a can of cannellini beans (a creamy favorite in Italy)
8) Add some pine nuts
9) If you choose, you can also add a few drops of really good balsamic vinegar (by really good, I mean one of those little $50 bottles where each drop is thick and sweet)
10) Cook 15-20 minutes
While you're making the "sauce," boil some rigatoni. When it's done, toss it into the skillet with the sauce. Add reg-parm cheese. It's a great winter pasta because its so freakin hearty.
1) Pour some olive oil in a skillet
2) Saute a leek or half an onion with several garlic cloves
3) Add red pepper flakes
4) Add sweet red or yellow bell pepper (diced or cut into little strips)
5) Add a handful of sliced grape tomatoes
5) Add a little salt and some black pepper
6) Add bitter greens (I use escarole, radicchio and endive, which you can buy separately or in Dole's Mediterranean mix)
7) Add half a can of cannellini beans (a creamy favorite in Italy)
8) Add some pine nuts
9) If you choose, you can also add a few drops of really good balsamic vinegar (by really good, I mean one of those little $50 bottles where each drop is thick and sweet)
10) Cook 15-20 minutes
While you're making the "sauce," boil some rigatoni. When it's done, toss it into the skillet with the sauce. Add reg-parm cheese. It's a great winter pasta because its so freakin hearty.
The Not-So-Skinny On Locker Rooms
Locker rooms at places like Gold's Gym are cool, I think, because every strain of humanity uses them. Young, old. Black, brown, white. Skinny, toned, paunchy, muscular, fat.
And, yes, gay and straight.
I'm a little surprised, though, that nobody has suggested segregating queers into their own locker rooms. Actually, it would make dating a snap. It'd be better even than gay.com, simply because you could see your potential mate in the flesh. On the other hand, can you imagine how uncomfortable you'd feel if you thought every guy in the room was checking out your body? One good thing about universal locker rooms is that nobody knows who's gay or straight, meaning you pretty much keep your eyes to yourself.
Of course, at my gym in Harrisonburg, I'd just as soon gouge my eyes out with a fork as scope most of the guys in the locker room. As I've said before, it seems that when a man turns 60, he loses all inhibitions about his body. I've had old guys start up conversations with me stark naked, their ballooning bellies casting shadows over dicks tucked away in a lifetime of country-cooking fat. These guys pad back and forth from the showers, swinging their asses like chicks in a rap video, blinding passers-by with their utter whiteness. It's enough to turn a gay guy straight. (Yeah, right.)
My philosophy on nudity: If you're got a reasonably taut body, go for it. If you don't, keep the boxers on, please.
None of this would have to be spelled out in a locker room marked "Gay Men," which would smell fresh as flowers and be a de facto fat-free zone. After all, the saying is true: 2QT2BSTR8. Those of us who didn't measure up would just slink off to the regular "Men's" locker room and keep our eyes squarely on the floor.
And, yes, gay and straight.
I'm a little surprised, though, that nobody has suggested segregating queers into their own locker rooms. Actually, it would make dating a snap. It'd be better even than gay.com, simply because you could see your potential mate in the flesh. On the other hand, can you imagine how uncomfortable you'd feel if you thought every guy in the room was checking out your body? One good thing about universal locker rooms is that nobody knows who's gay or straight, meaning you pretty much keep your eyes to yourself.
Of course, at my gym in Harrisonburg, I'd just as soon gouge my eyes out with a fork as scope most of the guys in the locker room. As I've said before, it seems that when a man turns 60, he loses all inhibitions about his body. I've had old guys start up conversations with me stark naked, their ballooning bellies casting shadows over dicks tucked away in a lifetime of country-cooking fat. These guys pad back and forth from the showers, swinging their asses like chicks in a rap video, blinding passers-by with their utter whiteness. It's enough to turn a gay guy straight. (Yeah, right.)
My philosophy on nudity: If you're got a reasonably taut body, go for it. If you don't, keep the boxers on, please.
None of this would have to be spelled out in a locker room marked "Gay Men," which would smell fresh as flowers and be a de facto fat-free zone. After all, the saying is true: 2QT2BSTR8. Those of us who didn't measure up would just slink off to the regular "Men's" locker room and keep our eyes squarely on the floor.
Tears
Why do I still cry every time I see footage of 9/11?
What happened that brilliant blue day that seared itself so deeply into my being?
The answer, I think, is elemental, almost trite: The attacks were the embodiment of man's inhumanity to man. It wasn't the act of a lunatic, like Virginia Tech. It wasn't an act of nature, like Katrina. It was a group of men -- men blinded by religion -- deciding to kill thousands of their fellow human beings.
I think of the beautiful blend of humanity inside the World Trade Center. I think of the humbling bravery of the firefighters as they began their ascent up the towers, bravery captured in a heroic, life-affirming documentary by Jules and Gedeon Naudet. I think of a world weeping with America. And I cry.
Nobody has more cynically capitalized on 9/11 than George Bush. And now he's again using 9/11 to justify his attack on Iraq, a grotesque distortion of history. Maybe Bush's delusions allow him to wash the blood off his hands, to vanquish the angry ghosts that surely pound at his windows every night, to wipe dry a billion tears shed by the shattered living. Or maybe he's really that ignorant. Maybe he hasn't read study after study -- some by his own government -- that say Iraq had nothing to do with the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington.
At least the press -- even the establishment press -- is calling foul this time. Here's what Washington Post columnist Dana Milbank wrote this week (in bold):
President Bush is at odds with the American public and a restive congressional majority over the Iraq war, and even some Republicans talk about imposing new requirements that could trigger a troop withdrawal.
It's time to play the Qaeda card.
In a speech about Iraq yesterday morning at the Willard Hotel, the president mentioned Osama bin Laden's group -- 27 times. "For America, the decision we face in Iraq is not whether we ought to take sides in a civil war, it's whether we stay in the fight against the same international terrorist network that attacked us on 9/11," Bush told a group of construction contractors.
Never mind all that talk about sectarian strife and civil war in Iraq. "The primary reason for the high level of violence is this: Al-Qaeda has ratcheted up its campaign of high-profile attacks," Bush disclosed.
The man who four years ago admitted "no evidence" of an Iraqi role in the Sept. 11 attacks now finds solid evidence of a role in Iraq by the Sept. 11 hijackers.
"I don't need to remind you who al-Qaeda is," Bush reminded. "Al-Qaeda is the group that plot and planned and trained killers to come and kill people on our soil. The same bunch that is causing havoc in Iraq were the ones who came and murdered our citizens."
Yes, all indications are that Al-Qaeda is in Iraq. But it has been drawn there by the American invasion. To insinuate that the United States is in Iraq because of Al-Qaeda is another lie by a government that stole the White House in 2000 and has since redefined arrogance.
I wonder if Bush cries when he thinks about 9/11. He often says his view of the world changed on Sept. 11, 2001. Rightfully so. But, because of his fundamental ignorance, he failed to give us a reasonable plan to fight the terrorists. Never in its history was the United States more justified than in its attack on the Taliban and, by extension, Al-Qaeda. The world was poised to bond in common cause. Then came Iraq. Then came hundreds of thousands of deaths. Then came tears of a different kind -- tears of rage at a senseless war, tears of sorrow over lives wasted by misinformed American aggression.
I'm glad I cry when I see the Towers imploding, when I see the courage of those firefighters, when I see the British play the "Star Spangled Banner" at the changing of the guard in London. It reminds me that every life is profoundly important. And that reminds me of why Iraq is so wrong.
What happened that brilliant blue day that seared itself so deeply into my being?
The answer, I think, is elemental, almost trite: The attacks were the embodiment of man's inhumanity to man. It wasn't the act of a lunatic, like Virginia Tech. It wasn't an act of nature, like Katrina. It was a group of men -- men blinded by religion -- deciding to kill thousands of their fellow human beings.
I think of the beautiful blend of humanity inside the World Trade Center. I think of the humbling bravery of the firefighters as they began their ascent up the towers, bravery captured in a heroic, life-affirming documentary by Jules and Gedeon Naudet. I think of a world weeping with America. And I cry.
Nobody has more cynically capitalized on 9/11 than George Bush. And now he's again using 9/11 to justify his attack on Iraq, a grotesque distortion of history. Maybe Bush's delusions allow him to wash the blood off his hands, to vanquish the angry ghosts that surely pound at his windows every night, to wipe dry a billion tears shed by the shattered living. Or maybe he's really that ignorant. Maybe he hasn't read study after study -- some by his own government -- that say Iraq had nothing to do with the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington.
At least the press -- even the establishment press -- is calling foul this time. Here's what Washington Post columnist Dana Milbank wrote this week (in bold):
President Bush is at odds with the American public and a restive congressional majority over the Iraq war, and even some Republicans talk about imposing new requirements that could trigger a troop withdrawal.
It's time to play the Qaeda card.
In a speech about Iraq yesterday morning at the Willard Hotel, the president mentioned Osama bin Laden's group -- 27 times. "For America, the decision we face in Iraq is not whether we ought to take sides in a civil war, it's whether we stay in the fight against the same international terrorist network that attacked us on 9/11," Bush told a group of construction contractors.
Never mind all that talk about sectarian strife and civil war in Iraq. "The primary reason for the high level of violence is this: Al-Qaeda has ratcheted up its campaign of high-profile attacks," Bush disclosed.
The man who four years ago admitted "no evidence" of an Iraqi role in the Sept. 11 attacks now finds solid evidence of a role in Iraq by the Sept. 11 hijackers.
"I don't need to remind you who al-Qaeda is," Bush reminded. "Al-Qaeda is the group that plot and planned and trained killers to come and kill people on our soil. The same bunch that is causing havoc in Iraq were the ones who came and murdered our citizens."
Yes, all indications are that Al-Qaeda is in Iraq. But it has been drawn there by the American invasion. To insinuate that the United States is in Iraq because of Al-Qaeda is another lie by a government that stole the White House in 2000 and has since redefined arrogance.
I wonder if Bush cries when he thinks about 9/11. He often says his view of the world changed on Sept. 11, 2001. Rightfully so. But, because of his fundamental ignorance, he failed to give us a reasonable plan to fight the terrorists. Never in its history was the United States more justified than in its attack on the Taliban and, by extension, Al-Qaeda. The world was poised to bond in common cause. Then came Iraq. Then came hundreds of thousands of deaths. Then came tears of a different kind -- tears of rage at a senseless war, tears of sorrow over lives wasted by misinformed American aggression.
I'm glad I cry when I see the Towers imploding, when I see the courage of those firefighters, when I see the British play the "Star Spangled Banner" at the changing of the guard in London. It reminds me that every life is profoundly important. And that reminds me of why Iraq is so wrong.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
An American Idiot
It's almost silly to bash Bill O'Reilly for his bullying distortions. The man, like Rush Limbaugh, is a propagandist. If you're smart, you understand that. If you're stupid, you don't -- and nothing will convince you otherwise.
Often, like any clever liar, O'Reilly sprinkles in just enough rational statements to make him appear momentarily objective. Of course, he isn't. His mind -- picture a black-and-white TV -- lacks nuance to an astonishing extent. He responds to the Iraq mess by asking this question: Do you want us to win? It's a simpleton query designed to elicit a simpleton response. He responds to criticism of the president by asking this question: Do you think George Bush is evil? Again, a simpleton query designed to elicit a simpleton response. Unless you immediately answer "yes" to the first question and "no" to the second, you're an un-American lunatic.
Worse, maybe, is the way O'Reilly twists words. During an interview with retired U.S. Army Col. Ann Wright last month on his FOX-News show, O'Reilly slandered the 29-year veteran, accusing her of being anti-American because she criticized some of the Bush administration's practices in Iraq and in the "war on terror." Nothing, of course, could be more patriotic than speaking out against abuses within your own country. O'Reilly appears unwilling to accept that fact, either because he's too dumb or because he knows the value of his shtick to TV ratings. Watch the segment. It's a case study in how to bully and distort (fortunately, Col. Wright stood her ground admirably):
Which brings us to O'Reilly's newest target: Bill Moyers' brilliant documentary on the American media's complicity in making the Bush administration's case to invade Iraq, a case that appeared false to many of us at the time and a case that has since been proven to be either wrong or a lie.
In "Buying The War," Moyers shows how the major establishment media outlets -- including the New York Times and Washington Post -- played along with the administration in the buildup to the invasion. To demonstrate the mood, Moyers included two snippets of O'Reilly making statements that suggest anyone who criticizes the war effort will have to bear the consequences. From a transcript at truthout.com:
Bill O'Reilly (Fox 2/26/03): "Anyone who hurts this country in a time like this. Well let's just say you will be spotlighted."
Bill O'Reilly (2/27/03): "I will call those who publicly criticize their country in a time of military crisis, which this is, bad Americans."
On his show this week, O'Reilly acknowledged those quotes looked bad. But, he said, they were taken out of context. He then played the full quotes. To me, there was no significant difference. Moyers carved out the essence of O'Reilly's comments, leaving the excess verbiage behind. Nothing wrong with that.
In a typical fit of arrogance and pique, O'Reilly sent one of his people to do an ambush interview with Moyer. Because O'Reilly is a propagandist, I have no idea if the information presented in the interview was accurate. In it, Moyers appears to have said things in a Rolling Stone interview -- things that have nothing to do with the integrity of the documentary -- that he denies saying. Essentially, he said, on tape, that the O'Reillys of the world are slimey. Maybe because he was generalizing, he didn't think his words should apply directly to O'Reilly. Maybe he thought the interviewer was referring to his documentary, not the Rolling Stone interview. I don't know. I do know it was irrelevant. O'Reilly -- did I mention his arrogant spite? -- condescendingly suggested Moyers' age (72) might have something to do with his apparent forgetfulness during the interview.
The bottom line, of course, is that Moyers is right: O'Reilly was -- and is -- part of the machine that produced the disaster in Iraq. Quibbling about quotes won't change that.
Often, like any clever liar, O'Reilly sprinkles in just enough rational statements to make him appear momentarily objective. Of course, he isn't. His mind -- picture a black-and-white TV -- lacks nuance to an astonishing extent. He responds to the Iraq mess by asking this question: Do you want us to win? It's a simpleton query designed to elicit a simpleton response. He responds to criticism of the president by asking this question: Do you think George Bush is evil? Again, a simpleton query designed to elicit a simpleton response. Unless you immediately answer "yes" to the first question and "no" to the second, you're an un-American lunatic.
Worse, maybe, is the way O'Reilly twists words. During an interview with retired U.S. Army Col. Ann Wright last month on his FOX-News show, O'Reilly slandered the 29-year veteran, accusing her of being anti-American because she criticized some of the Bush administration's practices in Iraq and in the "war on terror." Nothing, of course, could be more patriotic than speaking out against abuses within your own country. O'Reilly appears unwilling to accept that fact, either because he's too dumb or because he knows the value of his shtick to TV ratings. Watch the segment. It's a case study in how to bully and distort (fortunately, Col. Wright stood her ground admirably):
Which brings us to O'Reilly's newest target: Bill Moyers' brilliant documentary on the American media's complicity in making the Bush administration's case to invade Iraq, a case that appeared false to many of us at the time and a case that has since been proven to be either wrong or a lie.
In "Buying The War," Moyers shows how the major establishment media outlets -- including the New York Times and Washington Post -- played along with the administration in the buildup to the invasion. To demonstrate the mood, Moyers included two snippets of O'Reilly making statements that suggest anyone who criticizes the war effort will have to bear the consequences. From a transcript at truthout.com:
Bill O'Reilly (Fox 2/26/03): "Anyone who hurts this country in a time like this. Well let's just say you will be spotlighted."
Bill O'Reilly (2/27/03): "I will call those who publicly criticize their country in a time of military crisis, which this is, bad Americans."
On his show this week, O'Reilly acknowledged those quotes looked bad. But, he said, they were taken out of context. He then played the full quotes. To me, there was no significant difference. Moyers carved out the essence of O'Reilly's comments, leaving the excess verbiage behind. Nothing wrong with that.
In a typical fit of arrogance and pique, O'Reilly sent one of his people to do an ambush interview with Moyer. Because O'Reilly is a propagandist, I have no idea if the information presented in the interview was accurate. In it, Moyers appears to have said things in a Rolling Stone interview -- things that have nothing to do with the integrity of the documentary -- that he denies saying. Essentially, he said, on tape, that the O'Reillys of the world are slimey. Maybe because he was generalizing, he didn't think his words should apply directly to O'Reilly. Maybe he thought the interviewer was referring to his documentary, not the Rolling Stone interview. I don't know. I do know it was irrelevant. O'Reilly -- did I mention his arrogant spite? -- condescendingly suggested Moyers' age (72) might have something to do with his apparent forgetfulness during the interview.
The bottom line, of course, is that Moyers is right: O'Reilly was -- and is -- part of the machine that produced the disaster in Iraq. Quibbling about quotes won't change that.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Getting Uppity
I wrote this is February 2005, but I think it's still relevant:
Now that gays are America's new whipping boy -- and the first culture to truly incite the nation's rural Christians since blacks freed themselves in the 1960s -- perhaps it's time to alter our tactics.
Time, maybe, to get retro and replace the oh-so-lofty Human Rights Campaign with the in-your-face Queer Nation, time to stop watching "Will and Grace" and move en mass to the hump-a-minute "Queer As Folk," time to pick up our guns -- figuratively speaking -- and take aim at Red Amerika.
Time, in other words, to fight back.
George Bush declared war on the gay community in 2004 by using gay marriage as a hateful wedge issue designed to inflame his benighted base. It worked. The Christian right helped return Bush to office and swatted down gay initiatives in state after state.
The message was simple: You disgust us.
We disgust them for many reasons, I assume, but foremost because of the way we have sex. I use the term "have sex" carefully, by the way, because I think that's the way straight people view our carnal activities. They make love; we have sex. By thinking of gays as perpetually sex-starved creatures who prey on boys in bathrooms, it demonizes us. Just as it did blacks in the 1950s, when it wasn't wise for a "colored" kid to look too long at a ruling-class white girl.
Not that the black-gay analogy should be overdone. Blacks were legally enslaved for 250 years and effectively enslaved for another century. The gay man's experience -- except for those 100,000 poor souls who wore pink triangles in the Holocaust -- has been infinitely easier. As long as you kept quiet.
If you kept quiet, you climbed up the corporate ladder, the social ladder, the church ladder quite briskly. It was the genesis, really, of Bill Clinton's don't ask/don't tell policy for the military. Clinton was a great president because he was a small-g governor. He sought consensus on every issue -- prompting critics to say he lacked a moral compass -- knowing that in a nation as diverse and polarized as the United States, compromise was essential to keep the glue from melting. Nevertheless, don't ask/don't tell was cowardly. Clinton, already suspect because of his anti-war draft-dodging youth, didn't want to alienate his generals. So he declined to order his troops to start regarding gay soldiers as human beings worthy of respect.
Instead, he told gay airmen, sailors, marines and soldiers to shut up. Have sex, if you must, but do it in private and don't tell anyone. Don't put a picture of your boyfriend next to your bunk. Don't bring him to the NCO club for lunch. Don't tell any of the guys -- your brothers in war -- that you like boys.
At the same time, however, Clinton fostered a climate of tolerance for gays. Note the word "tolerance," another indication of our status in America. If straights decide to be benevolent, they'll let us be. But, never forget, it's up to them. We're like dogs in the city. If we don't poop in the park, we're acceptable.
So, sanitized gays popped up everywhere in the '90s. "Will and Grace" was a mainstream television hit. Gays became ubiquitous on MTV, where a reality series without a queer would be like a loaf of Wonder Bread at Dean and Deluca -- decidedly un-hip. Actors and actresses, and even a few athletes, came out. It seemed like every politician had a gay child, sibling or lover. And, of course, everyone thought the boys on "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" were the personification of edgy, urban fun.
Then, we got uppity.
Out of nowhere, it seemed, gay couples were demanding the right to marry or at least the right to be recognized as a civil union. Some simply wanted the same legal benefits as straight families; for them a civil union would do just fine. Others, though, wanted more. They wanted the binding moral authority of a wedding ceremony, a ceremony where they would profess their love in front of friends and family, perhaps in a church and definitely with the blessing of the state.
Churches clearly have the right to embrace or condemn gay marriage. Governments do not. Governments represent the people, all the people. They exist at the pleasure of the people and, in the United States, they exist to protect the rights of minorities, whether that minority is black, Jewish or gay.
Regardless, it seems so obvious that gay marriage is a pro-family initiative. How many straight people would have walked out on their husbands or wives if they weren't legally married, if they hadn't committed their hearts and wallets to their spouses? I assume it would work the same way with gays, turning them -- for better or worse -- into homebodies.
Gay marriage is only the most obvious issue being fought by Red Amerika. In Virginia, a state legislator's bill to eliminate a gay club at Harrisonburg High School sailed through the House of Delegates 92-0, in part because its stated purpose was to outlaw student groups that promote sexual activity. The sponsor, however, has admitted he was motivated by the local gay kids' club. What a stupid assumption: that because gays want to socialize, it promotes sex more so than any other teenagers' club. Another bill in Virginia -- a state that tried to marginalize blacks by yanking whites out of public schools rather than integrate after Brown vs. Board of Education, and a state that banned interracial marriage until the Supreme Court told it to get real in 1967 -- singles out gays for background checks if they want to adopt children. Other states also are goose-stepping backward.
So what's a gay to do? Is it really better to fight back than to quietly try to get along? Nobody wants to be snickered at or sneered at or yelled at. Isn't it OK to just live our two-tier lives, one in the gay ghetto and bedroom, one everywhere else? After all, gays aren't being lynched, they aren't being kept out of universities, they don't have to drink out of separate water fountains. What's the big deal?
The big deal is human dignity. You can't live proudly and live a lie. It's taken some of us half a century to realize that. Fortunately, today's gay kids learn that lesson much earlier. They hold their boyfriend's hand on the street. They kiss him goodbye at the bus stop. They walk without shame, without fear.
That's why it's a big deal. And that's why, somehow, someway, we have to fight back. Just like black Americans fought back 40 years ago to achieve their dream, their rightful place in society, their dignity.
Now that gays are America's new whipping boy -- and the first culture to truly incite the nation's rural Christians since blacks freed themselves in the 1960s -- perhaps it's time to alter our tactics.
Time, maybe, to get retro and replace the oh-so-lofty Human Rights Campaign with the in-your-face Queer Nation, time to stop watching "Will and Grace" and move en mass to the hump-a-minute "Queer As Folk," time to pick up our guns -- figuratively speaking -- and take aim at Red Amerika.
Time, in other words, to fight back.
George Bush declared war on the gay community in 2004 by using gay marriage as a hateful wedge issue designed to inflame his benighted base. It worked. The Christian right helped return Bush to office and swatted down gay initiatives in state after state.
The message was simple: You disgust us.
We disgust them for many reasons, I assume, but foremost because of the way we have sex. I use the term "have sex" carefully, by the way, because I think that's the way straight people view our carnal activities. They make love; we have sex. By thinking of gays as perpetually sex-starved creatures who prey on boys in bathrooms, it demonizes us. Just as it did blacks in the 1950s, when it wasn't wise for a "colored" kid to look too long at a ruling-class white girl.
Not that the black-gay analogy should be overdone. Blacks were legally enslaved for 250 years and effectively enslaved for another century. The gay man's experience -- except for those 100,000 poor souls who wore pink triangles in the Holocaust -- has been infinitely easier. As long as you kept quiet.
If you kept quiet, you climbed up the corporate ladder, the social ladder, the church ladder quite briskly. It was the genesis, really, of Bill Clinton's don't ask/don't tell policy for the military. Clinton was a great president because he was a small-g governor. He sought consensus on every issue -- prompting critics to say he lacked a moral compass -- knowing that in a nation as diverse and polarized as the United States, compromise was essential to keep the glue from melting. Nevertheless, don't ask/don't tell was cowardly. Clinton, already suspect because of his anti-war draft-dodging youth, didn't want to alienate his generals. So he declined to order his troops to start regarding gay soldiers as human beings worthy of respect.
Instead, he told gay airmen, sailors, marines and soldiers to shut up. Have sex, if you must, but do it in private and don't tell anyone. Don't put a picture of your boyfriend next to your bunk. Don't bring him to the NCO club for lunch. Don't tell any of the guys -- your brothers in war -- that you like boys.
At the same time, however, Clinton fostered a climate of tolerance for gays. Note the word "tolerance," another indication of our status in America. If straights decide to be benevolent, they'll let us be. But, never forget, it's up to them. We're like dogs in the city. If we don't poop in the park, we're acceptable.
So, sanitized gays popped up everywhere in the '90s. "Will and Grace" was a mainstream television hit. Gays became ubiquitous on MTV, where a reality series without a queer would be like a loaf of Wonder Bread at Dean and Deluca -- decidedly un-hip. Actors and actresses, and even a few athletes, came out. It seemed like every politician had a gay child, sibling or lover. And, of course, everyone thought the boys on "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" were the personification of edgy, urban fun.
Then, we got uppity.
Out of nowhere, it seemed, gay couples were demanding the right to marry or at least the right to be recognized as a civil union. Some simply wanted the same legal benefits as straight families; for them a civil union would do just fine. Others, though, wanted more. They wanted the binding moral authority of a wedding ceremony, a ceremony where they would profess their love in front of friends and family, perhaps in a church and definitely with the blessing of the state.
Churches clearly have the right to embrace or condemn gay marriage. Governments do not. Governments represent the people, all the people. They exist at the pleasure of the people and, in the United States, they exist to protect the rights of minorities, whether that minority is black, Jewish or gay.
Regardless, it seems so obvious that gay marriage is a pro-family initiative. How many straight people would have walked out on their husbands or wives if they weren't legally married, if they hadn't committed their hearts and wallets to their spouses? I assume it would work the same way with gays, turning them -- for better or worse -- into homebodies.
Gay marriage is only the most obvious issue being fought by Red Amerika. In Virginia, a state legislator's bill to eliminate a gay club at Harrisonburg High School sailed through the House of Delegates 92-0, in part because its stated purpose was to outlaw student groups that promote sexual activity. The sponsor, however, has admitted he was motivated by the local gay kids' club. What a stupid assumption: that because gays want to socialize, it promotes sex more so than any other teenagers' club. Another bill in Virginia -- a state that tried to marginalize blacks by yanking whites out of public schools rather than integrate after Brown vs. Board of Education, and a state that banned interracial marriage until the Supreme Court told it to get real in 1967 -- singles out gays for background checks if they want to adopt children. Other states also are goose-stepping backward.
So what's a gay to do? Is it really better to fight back than to quietly try to get along? Nobody wants to be snickered at or sneered at or yelled at. Isn't it OK to just live our two-tier lives, one in the gay ghetto and bedroom, one everywhere else? After all, gays aren't being lynched, they aren't being kept out of universities, they don't have to drink out of separate water fountains. What's the big deal?
The big deal is human dignity. You can't live proudly and live a lie. It's taken some of us half a century to realize that. Fortunately, today's gay kids learn that lesson much earlier. They hold their boyfriend's hand on the street. They kiss him goodbye at the bus stop. They walk without shame, without fear.
That's why it's a big deal. And that's why, somehow, someway, we have to fight back. Just like black Americans fought back 40 years ago to achieve their dream, their rightful place in society, their dignity.
Shit! Another Gay Guy!
So, one of my ex-writers sent me an email about his apartment search in metro New York. To paraphrase it: "The thing I hate about Craigslist is every time I find a great apartment, it always ends with the potential roommate describing himself as a '29-year-old gay guy.'"
My ex-writer is a very cool dude. I nicknamed him World Boy because he's been everywhere from Beijing to Cairo to Rio. Plus, he's the New American Blend: a 24-year-old Latino who was raised in a high-brow Pittsburgh neighborhood (Squirrel Hill) by a Colombian mother and a half-Colombian/half-American father. The family is just as diverse religiously. World Boy describes himself as half Jewish and half Catholic, but he also has Mormon ties. Money? Lots of it. His mom is now president of a mortgage bank in Miami. The kid also is not shy sexually. Have dick, will travel.
In other words, he's Mentos. (You remember -- the hip Euro ads for the Freshmaker.) Yet, he's also homophobic. We never discussed my sexuality, although I always assumed he knew I was gay by some of his comments when we went out to dinner. Now, obviously, I'm not so sure.
But substitute the "gay guy" in his email with "black" or "Muslim" or "Jewish" or "Asian." Is there a difference in the prejudice somebody would exhibit toward a race or religion and the prejudice somebody would exhibit toward sexual orientation? I suppose you could make an argument that there is. If you lived with an Asian or Muslim, you might find the food or music or books or philosophies alien, but you wouldn't have to worry that your roommate might want to hit on you or that he might get turned on when he saw you shirtless.
Of course, in reality, the gay guy probably would have no romantic interest in the straight guy -- meaning there'd be no sexual tension at all. And if the straight guy was free of sexual hang-ups, he wouldn't care if his roommate found him attractive. Some of the coolest relationships, I think, are between gay and straight guys who become friends and can tease each other about their preferences. I often tell one of my straight friends how freaking sexy he looked in this or that outfit.
Anyway, I was a little hurt by the email. But I wasn't deeply wounded, as I would have been if I'd been black or Asian and World Boy had taken a jab at my race. The reason, I guess, is because it's socially acceptable to express distaste for gays. Sad as that might be.
My ex-writer is a very cool dude. I nicknamed him World Boy because he's been everywhere from Beijing to Cairo to Rio. Plus, he's the New American Blend: a 24-year-old Latino who was raised in a high-brow Pittsburgh neighborhood (Squirrel Hill) by a Colombian mother and a half-Colombian/half-American father. The family is just as diverse religiously. World Boy describes himself as half Jewish and half Catholic, but he also has Mormon ties. Money? Lots of it. His mom is now president of a mortgage bank in Miami. The kid also is not shy sexually. Have dick, will travel.
In other words, he's Mentos. (You remember -- the hip Euro ads for the Freshmaker.) Yet, he's also homophobic. We never discussed my sexuality, although I always assumed he knew I was gay by some of his comments when we went out to dinner. Now, obviously, I'm not so sure.
But substitute the "gay guy" in his email with "black" or "Muslim" or "Jewish" or "Asian." Is there a difference in the prejudice somebody would exhibit toward a race or religion and the prejudice somebody would exhibit toward sexual orientation? I suppose you could make an argument that there is. If you lived with an Asian or Muslim, you might find the food or music or books or philosophies alien, but you wouldn't have to worry that your roommate might want to hit on you or that he might get turned on when he saw you shirtless.
Of course, in reality, the gay guy probably would have no romantic interest in the straight guy -- meaning there'd be no sexual tension at all. And if the straight guy was free of sexual hang-ups, he wouldn't care if his roommate found him attractive. Some of the coolest relationships, I think, are between gay and straight guys who become friends and can tease each other about their preferences. I often tell one of my straight friends how freaking sexy he looked in this or that outfit.
Anyway, I was a little hurt by the email. But I wasn't deeply wounded, as I would have been if I'd been black or Asian and World Boy had taken a jab at my race. The reason, I guess, is because it's socially acceptable to express distaste for gays. Sad as that might be.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Gay Flicks, Part 1
I hate Hollywood movies, yet my favorite gay flick is a light romantic comedy. Go figure. Anyway, here's my little guide to gay-themed films. (Nos. 1 and 2 top my list; the third one onward simply represent a numbering system. I think.)
1. Trick
1999
MY TAKE: Sure, it's a little fluffly, but "Trick's" popularity is no mystery. It speaks to every human being's deepest desire: to find somebody and fall head over heels in love with him. Doesn't matter if you're gay or straight, male or female. Of course, it doesn't hurt that Gabe, the budding screenwriter, is boy-next-door cute and Mark, the go-go dancer and former CUNY journalism student, is slinkily sexy. It also doesn't hurt that the film is set in Lower Manhattan, the epicenter of Gay America, where guys holding hands is as normal as licking an ice-cream cone on a summer evening.
PLOT: Two boys meet and spend the evening looking for a place to hook up. It turns into a cool and highly entertaining romantic comedy.
FAVE SCENES: 1) Mark (upper left on the subway) takes an uncomfortable Gabe to a gay club. Needless to say, Mark immediately strips off his shirt and starts dancing. Gabe demurs until -- with transvestite Miss Coco belting out "I Am Woman" -- he too catches the fever. The expressions on Mark's face are priceless. 2) The boys, who had noticed each other during Mark's performance at another go-go club, end up in the same subway car that evening, make eye contact and begin their hook-up. 3) In a tiny scene at a late-night diner, Mark confides to Gabe that he lives with his mom in Brooklyn. It goes by in a flash, but it's one of the most endearing moments of the flick.
SEX QUOTIENT: It's sexy, but nothing's explicit. Straight people could watch the movie without blanching.
TRIVIA: Queens native J.P. Pitoc (aka John Paul Pitoc), who turns 33 on Monday and has done lots of TV since making "Trick," is half Colombian (which accounts for his amazing looks) and studied drama at NYU (brains, too!).
MORE: http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/trick/
2. Angels In America 2004
MY TAKE: Obviously, this is one of the greatest theatrical achievements in American history -- Tony Kushner won a Pulitzer in 1993 for his efforts. The movie ain't bad, either. An HBO miniseries, it ran for 352 riveting minutes, sucking the viewer into a vortex of overpowering drama and breath-catching comedy. In a word, it's massive. The performances of Al Pacino as an AIDS-ravaged Roy Cohn, the brilliant but despicable anti-communist who helped fry the Rosenbergs, and Meryl Streep as Ethel Rosenberg and a Mormon mom (among others) are astonishing. So is the poignancy of the relationships between straights and gays, HIV-negative and HIV-positive lovers, out gays and closeted gays, and on and on. The subtext, of course, is profoundly political.
PLOT: Wow. In short, a little-know disease -- AIDS -- is ravaging the gay community. Relationships are affected.
FAVE SCENES: Again wow. 1) Prior Walter, fighting AIDS, is visited in, shall we say, dramatic fashion by a sex-crazed angel. 2) Prior meets Louis, who ditched him because of the disease, in a reunion of sorts in Washington Square Park. 3) A black gay nurse interacts with a dying Cohn.
SEX QUOTIENT: Zero.
TRIVIA: The charismatic Jeffrey Wright, who played the gay nurse, also excelled as the lead role in a film about Jean-Michel Basquiat.
MORE: http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/angels_in_america/
The angel visits Prior.
3. Latter Days 2003
MY TAKE: You've gotta love a flick that takes on religion, in this case -- obviously -- the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, aka the Mormons. There's lots of comedy here and some all-too-obvious moments, but the underlying messages are strong: 1) You are what you are, and 2) intolerance is fueled more than anything by religion. Again, this isn't original, but it's highly watchable.
PLOT: Slutty gay boy in L.A. meets cute-but-closeted Mormon missionary and falls in love.
FAVE SCENES: 1) Christian, the West Hollywood party boy, thinks Aaron, the Mormon, is dead, so he tearfully visits the latter's family home in Idaho to return a family heirloom. It's then that Aaron's mother -- who had been piously anti-gay -- understands how wrong she's been. 2) At the end of the movie, Aaron shows up at a restaurant where, coincidentally, Christian works. In a tear-jerker, they're reunited.
SEX QUOTIENT: Moderately explicit, but if I can watch sex scenes in straight movies, I assume enlightened straights could watch the scenes in "Latter Days" without being too grossed out.
TRIVIA: Written by a gay Mormon, the movie was filmed in 24 days, according to IMDb.
MORE: http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/latter_days/
m/m/latter_days/
Steve Sandvoss (left)
and Wes Ramsey
1. Trick
1999 MY TAKE: Sure, it's a little fluffly, but "Trick's" popularity is no mystery. It speaks to every human being's deepest desire: to find somebody and fall head over heels in love with him. Doesn't matter if you're gay or straight, male or female. Of course, it doesn't hurt that Gabe, the budding screenwriter, is boy-next-door cute and Mark, the go-go dancer and former CUNY journalism student, is slinkily sexy. It also doesn't hurt that the film is set in Lower Manhattan, the epicenter of Gay America, where guys holding hands is as normal as licking an ice-cream cone on a summer evening.
PLOT: Two boys meet and spend the evening looking for a place to hook up. It turns into a cool and highly entertaining romantic comedy.
FAVE SCENES: 1) Mark (upper left on the subway) takes an uncomfortable Gabe to a gay club. Needless to say, Mark immediately strips off his shirt and starts dancing. Gabe demurs until -- with transvestite Miss Coco belting out "I Am Woman" -- he too catches the fever. The expressions on Mark's face are priceless. 2) The boys, who had noticed each other during Mark's performance at another go-go club, end up in the same subway car that evening, make eye contact and begin their hook-up. 3) In a tiny scene at a late-night diner, Mark confides to Gabe that he lives with his mom in Brooklyn. It goes by in a flash, but it's one of the most endearing moments of the flick.
SEX QUOTIENT: It's sexy, but nothing's explicit. Straight people could watch the movie without blanching.
TRIVIA: Queens native J.P. Pitoc (aka John Paul Pitoc), who turns 33 on Monday and has done lots of TV since making "Trick," is half Colombian (which accounts for his amazing looks) and studied drama at NYU (brains, too!).
MORE: http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/trick/
2. Angels In America 2004
MY TAKE: Obviously, this is one of the greatest theatrical achievements in American history -- Tony Kushner won a Pulitzer in 1993 for his efforts. The movie ain't bad, either. An HBO miniseries, it ran for 352 riveting minutes, sucking the viewer into a vortex of overpowering drama and breath-catching comedy. In a word, it's massive. The performances of Al Pacino as an AIDS-ravaged Roy Cohn, the brilliant but despicable anti-communist who helped fry the Rosenbergs, and Meryl Streep as Ethel Rosenberg and a Mormon mom (among others) are astonishing. So is the poignancy of the relationships between straights and gays, HIV-negative and HIV-positive lovers, out gays and closeted gays, and on and on. The subtext, of course, is profoundly political.
PLOT: Wow. In short, a little-know disease -- AIDS -- is ravaging the gay community. Relationships are affected.
FAVE SCENES: Again wow. 1) Prior Walter, fighting AIDS, is visited in, shall we say, dramatic fashion by a sex-crazed angel. 2) Prior meets Louis, who ditched him because of the disease, in a reunion of sorts in Washington Square Park. 3) A black gay nurse interacts with a dying Cohn.
SEX QUOTIENT: Zero.
TRIVIA: The charismatic Jeffrey Wright, who played the gay nurse, also excelled as the lead role in a film about Jean-Michel Basquiat.
MORE: http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/angels_in_america/
The angel visits Prior.
3. Latter Days 2003
MY TAKE: You've gotta love a flick that takes on religion, in this case -- obviously -- the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, aka the Mormons. There's lots of comedy here and some all-too-obvious moments, but the underlying messages are strong: 1) You are what you are, and 2) intolerance is fueled more than anything by religion. Again, this isn't original, but it's highly watchable.
PLOT: Slutty gay boy in L.A. meets cute-but-closeted Mormon missionary and falls in love.
FAVE SCENES: 1) Christian, the West Hollywood party boy, thinks Aaron, the Mormon, is dead, so he tearfully visits the latter's family home in Idaho to return a family heirloom. It's then that Aaron's mother -- who had been piously anti-gay -- understands how wrong she's been. 2) At the end of the movie, Aaron shows up at a restaurant where, coincidentally, Christian works. In a tear-jerker, they're reunited.
SEX QUOTIENT: Moderately explicit, but if I can watch sex scenes in straight movies, I assume enlightened straights could watch the scenes in "Latter Days" without being too grossed out.
TRIVIA: Written by a gay Mormon, the movie was filmed in 24 days, according to IMDb.
MORE: http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/latter_days/
m/m/latter_days/Steve Sandvoss (left)
and Wes Ramsey
The Goode, The Bad, The Ugly -- Oh, They're All The Same
Being in Virginia, I rarely expect my politicians to make me proud.
There's George Allen and his racist remarks during the 2006 campaign. There's Virgil Goode, the redneck congressman from southwestern Virginia who criticized a recently elected Minnesota representative for choosing to take his oath of office on the Koran. There's the old fool in the state legislature who said blacks should "get over" slavery. There's the homophobe state legislator who tried to shut down gay clubs in public high schools. There's the dummy, also in our august assembly, who tried to ban extremely baggy pants that expose underwear.
Wow. (All but the baggy-pants guy were Republicans, by the way.)
On the other hand, Allen lost his re-election campaign last fall, in large part because of the "Macaca" comment. Goode was condemned for his religious intolerance. Virginia, not long after the "get over it" comment, became the first state in the nation to formally express regret for its role in slavery. The state senate told the house to get real and quickly killed the anti-gay club measure. And the baggy-pants proposal also was DOA in the senate.
So, while we have an uncommon number of dumb politicians, their ideas usually are shot down.
One politician who has always had my respect, however, is John Warner. I've rarely agreed with him on the issues, but he has always seemed reasonable and gentlemanly. In recent weeks, though, the 80-year-old Republican -- and former husband of Elizabeth Taylor -- has stunned me. First, he and Chuck Nagel of Nebraska became the leading GOP senators to oppose Bush's escalation in Iraq. Then, a few weeks ago, Warner weighed in on Gen. Peter Pace's bigoted comments about gays. The day before, Pace -- chairman of the joint chiefs of staff -- told the Chicago Tribune that homosexual acts were "immoral." Warner told him he was full of shit.
"I respectfully, but strongly, disagree with the chairman's view that homosexuality is immoral," Warner said in a written statement. Now, that goes above and beyond the call of duty. Warner, as a Republican in a still fairly conservative state, could have kept silent on the issue. Instead, he joined the voices that are helping tip the nation toward acceptance of gay lifestyles.
For a change, I'm proud. Well, until I see shit like this -- from Mr. Goode again, this time spewing his racism on the U.S. House floor:
There's George Allen and his racist remarks during the 2006 campaign. There's Virgil Goode, the redneck congressman from southwestern Virginia who criticized a recently elected Minnesota representative for choosing to take his oath of office on the Koran. There's the old fool in the state legislature who said blacks should "get over" slavery. There's the homophobe state legislator who tried to shut down gay clubs in public high schools. There's the dummy, also in our august assembly, who tried to ban extremely baggy pants that expose underwear.
Wow. (All but the baggy-pants guy were Republicans, by the way.)
On the other hand, Allen lost his re-election campaign last fall, in large part because of the "Macaca" comment. Goode was condemned for his religious intolerance. Virginia, not long after the "get over it" comment, became the first state in the nation to formally express regret for its role in slavery. The state senate told the house to get real and quickly killed the anti-gay club measure. And the baggy-pants proposal also was DOA in the senate.
So, while we have an uncommon number of dumb politicians, their ideas usually are shot down.
One politician who has always had my respect, however, is John Warner. I've rarely agreed with him on the issues, but he has always seemed reasonable and gentlemanly. In recent weeks, though, the 80-year-old Republican -- and former husband of Elizabeth Taylor -- has stunned me. First, he and Chuck Nagel of Nebraska became the leading GOP senators to oppose Bush's escalation in Iraq. Then, a few weeks ago, Warner weighed in on Gen. Peter Pace's bigoted comments about gays. The day before, Pace -- chairman of the joint chiefs of staff -- told the Chicago Tribune that homosexual acts were "immoral." Warner told him he was full of shit.
"I respectfully, but strongly, disagree with the chairman's view that homosexuality is immoral," Warner said in a written statement. Now, that goes above and beyond the call of duty. Warner, as a Republican in a still fairly conservative state, could have kept silent on the issue. Instead, he joined the voices that are helping tip the nation toward acceptance of gay lifestyles.
For a change, I'm proud. Well, until I see shit like this -- from Mr. Goode again, this time spewing his racism on the U.S. House floor:
Sunday, April 22, 2007
When? Now.
Whenever I ask people if they think America should withdraw from Iraq, they say yes. When I ask them how quickly, they almost always talk about a phased withdrawal. Their rationale: that if the Americans got out too quickly, Iraq would dissolve into ... into what, I ask, into chaos? Into civil war? Into carnage?I don't know how much worse Iraq can get. If you believe a Johns Hopkins University study, more than 600,000 Iraqis have died because of the American invasion. More than 3,300 U.S. soldiers have been killed and another 25,000 wounded. This month alone, 72 coalition soldiers (almost all American) have died, most of them in their 20s, at least three in their teens.
It seems almost crass to talk about money, but the United States is spending $2 billion a week -- a week -- to perpetuate its immoral policies in Iraq.
On a human level, again how much worse can it get? Iraq already is engaged in a sectarian civil war. America's presence will only prolong the killing. And once the U.S. leaves, Iraq almost certainly will ally itself with its fellow Shias in Iran. So what will America get for its thousands of dead? In all likelihood, an Islamic government with strong ties to another Islamic government, this one fundamentalist and repressive. (Yea democracy.) Won't that be wonderful? Iran and Iraq, flush with oil and weapons, strutting around the Middle East.
And all because of an evil or stupid -- take your pick -- American president.
It's too late to put the genie back in the bottle. It isn't too late to get out.
Although I value their lives as much as I do those of our soldiers, I can do nothing to prevent an Iraqi kid from killing another Iraqi kid. I can do something, if only by voting and speaking out among friends, to prevent more Americans from dying.
During Vietnam, of course, John Kerry asked a haunting question after returning home and becoming an anti-war leader burnished by medals for bravery: "How do you ask a man to be the last man to die in Vietnam? How do you ask a man to be the last man to die for a mistake?"
How do you ask Michael Rivera's mother in Brooklyn to accept that her 22-year-old son died in a roadside bombing this month in Iraq, just six months after the birth of his daughter?
How do you ask Barry Mayo's family in Ecru, Miss., to accept that their 21-year-old son -- a kid who joined the Army at 17 -- was killed this month during his second tour in Iraq? How do you tell Kory Koster's mom and dad in The Woodlands, Texas, that their 19-year-old boy (pictured at the beginning of this entry) died this month in Iraq, died at a time when he would have been home on leave had he not given up his slot to another solider whose wife was expecting a baby?
Three young guys out of 3,319 who have perished in a morally bankrupt war. Three young guys who were betrayed by their government. I think it's important to look at their faces, to read their stories. Then ask yourself, when should the United States get out of Iraq?
Twink Cars?
I'm thinking this is a BIT of a reach. The New York Times did a story on "gay" cars. Of course, as I'm reading it, it's dawning on me that gay has nothing to do with it. It's a metrosexual thing. Period. End of story.Believe me, living in the Shenandoah Valley, I KNOW there are plenty of style-impaired gays. Redneck queers? We got 'em, baby. And I'm thinking they're driving pickups and picking the soup out of their beards rather than hopping into cute Mini Coopers. So this is a STYLE thing, not a sexual-orientation thing, I dink.The first few paragraphs of the New York Times article (everything in bold is part of the Times story):
Ron Geren, an actor in Los Angeles, commutes to auditions and jobs throughout Southern California in a sleek black Mazda MX-5 Miata convertible. But for a recent date with a woman, he rented a Cadillac Escalade because he was so used to friends saying his Miata is “gay.”
“Guys say, ‘Hey, that’s cute,’ ” Mr. Geren, 40, said, adding that the comments come from gay as well as straight men. “You have to fend off that perception.”
A few years ago, Meghan Daum, an op-ed contributor to The Los Angeles Times, wrote about a promising first date with a man that never led to a second one because, she later learned, the guy saw that she drove a Subaru Outback station wagon and concluded she must be a lesbian.
And when Joe LaMuraglia, the founder of gaywheels.com an informational site modeled on the likes of autoweb.com, told his partner he wanted to buy a Mini Cooper convertible, the boyfriend joked that he would not be seen in it because the couple “would look like such a gay cliché,” Mr. LaMuraglia said.
Cars are no more straight or gay than cellphones, office chairs or weed whackers. But in recent years that truism has not stopped a perception among some motorists that certain cars can, in the right context, be statements about a driver’s sexual orientation.
People actually appear to believe this. But, as the writer noted at the end of the story ...
On Gaywheels.com, one indicator of actual gay buying trends is the list of vehicles most frequently researched. As of last October, the Toyota Yaris, a $12,000 economy car, led that list, followed by the Toyota Camry, which was the No. 3-selling car in America last year.
The Mini Cooper. Gay? Well, it IS too cute to be straight, but ... no.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
