I'm A Phenomenon!!!

In perhaps the most priceless quote ever uttered -- well, supposedly uttered -- by a Middle Eastern leader, Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad denied the existence of gays in his nation.

"In Iran we don't have homosexuals like in your country. We don't have that in our country," Ahmadinejad told a hooting Columbia University audience in response to a question about the persecution of gays in Iran. "In Iran we do not have this phenomenon. I do not know who has told you we have it."

As happy as I am to be a phenomenon, I must say I doubt that Ahmadinejad actually said that. Yes, I know, it was on TV. I watched it. But Ahmadinejad was speaking in Farsi, and I'm thinking the translator blew it. My best guess is that he was speaking about the persecution of gays, not the existence of gays. Otherwise, he is indeed a complete dope.

Of course, either way, he was lying. Like many a Muslim nation, Iran treats gays despicably.

Food For Thought

First, let me stress that I love farmers markets. I love local vegetables. I love local maple syrup. I love local jams and jellies. Whenever possible, I like to eat and cook food grown fresh locally.

Having said that, I think localvores are crazy.

In case you don't know, a localvore is somebody who insists that all of your food should be produced within your extended community -- defined, apparently, however you choose. Some might say a 100-mile radius; others might say an entire state. The reasons for the movement are threefold: 1) environmental (it uses too much oil and other resources to transport food thousands of miles), 2) health (locally produced food is more likely to be organic or at least less drastically sprayed) and 3) lifestyle (local food tastes better because it's picked when it's ripe).

All good reasons.

But to suggest that we should restrict ourselves to those foods represents a pitchfork mentality. Not only would dismantling the national (and international) food system eliminate a huge number of jobs, but it almost certainly would jack up prices and lead to shortages of quality foods for working-class people. In other words, I doubt if there are enough tomatoes or apples being grown in Virginia to feed the people.

Beyond that, quality is important. Personally, I don't want a local cantaloupe or watermelon. Compared to the Deep South variety, they're insipid. As much as I enjoy local apples, I also like varieties from the West Coast. Ditto cherries. Not to mention bananas and every citrus fruit on the earth. The list goes on and on, from avocados to jalapenos. And, yes, I do enjoy Spanish clementines in December.

I also am not willing to give up fresh tomatoes or mesclun mixes in winter. So why not grow them locally in greenhouses? As a Wikipedia article suggests, some believe it is more environmentally taxing to do that than to ship tomatoes from southern climates to northern climes.

I think the logical solution is to eat locally as much as you can. For instance, it makes no sense to buy a cardboard supermarket tomato in summer when the farmers markets are groaning with great-tasting local tomatoes. But if you want a Rainier cherry, for God's sake, buy them.

YAY! He's GAY!

It's always a good day when another right-wing hypocrite is outed. Larry Craig, the icky senator from Idaho, is the latest -- assuming things are as they appear. Making it even more delicious is this clip that surfaced on youtube. My GOD, this guy is a creep:




OK, beyond Craig's apparent rank hypocrisy, I've got a question: Is this fucking 1975? Have these people never heard of the Internet? I mean, good God, who goes to toilets or parks or dirty book stores to find sex nowadays? Just click onto gay.com and you can hook up in a nano-second. Jesus.

Critics All Wet

The most annoying thing in the world right now? All of the people who are urging us not to drink bottled water. Their reasoning: Bottled water is environmentally unsound because it uses plastic bottles and needs to be transported -- both of which require oil.

OK, I agree that drinking Fiji water is idiotic. Or Scandinavian water. Unless those sources have special minerals that turn gray hair black or erase wrinkles or add 3 inches to your dick, there's no need to drink them. In fact, I chided one of my writers the other day when I spied his square bottle of Fijian H2O. The oil consumed to ship it to Virginia constituted environmental rape.

But is it so bad to drink Deer Park if you live in Virginia? Or Poland Spring if you live in New York? Both are drawn from sources nearby (usually Pennsylvania and Maryland for the Deer Park sold here in Virginia, and Maine for the Poland Spring sold in NYC). Yes, they're in plastic bottles. The solution, though, is to recyle the plastic, not to discourage people from drinking bottled water. Because, I guarantee you, almost nobody is going to carry around a refillable bottle full of warm tap water. If anything, they'll turn to soft drinks or fake "juices."

So why are the anti-bottled water people annoying? Here's why: I'm guessing many are upper-middle class folks who live in sizeable houses and drive SUVs. That's just a guess. I've done no studies on the matter. And I'm not talking about the activists who spend their lives on these issues. I'm talking about the do-gooders who've taken up the cause. Perhaps they should downgrade to a VW before yapping about water.

(Sparkling waters such as Perrier and San Pellegrino -- which, along with Deer Park and Poland Spring, are owned by Nestle, by the way -- probably are OK to buy, even though they come from Europe. The market for sparkling water, I think, is a fraction of that for flat bottled water, so they're a luxury we can afford envrionmentally.)

Think, Not-So-Think

I watched two gay coming-of-age films recently -- one American, one Swiss. I liked both, but as you might suspect, the European movie was far more layered, far more thought-provoking than the American one. And, as you might suspect, the American flick was more fun to watch than the Swiss one.

"Garcon, Stupide" is about a 20-year-old kid who works at a chocolate factory in Bulle, a small town in the French-speaking part of Switzerland. He's an uneducated lad who relies on a slightly older woman to help guide him through life. The director, Lionel Baier, does a nice job of "growing" the kid -- showing how a handful of people enter his life and change him. Baier also touches on issues that all gay guys deal with: obsession, suspicion that everyone you meet wants sex, the desire to be "normal" (in this case, to have a wife and family).

"Dorian Blues" focuses on a teen-ager's coming out story. It's funny and touching, though sometimes a little too bitchy. The best part is Dorian's relationship with his ultra-loyal, straight, hunky, football-playing brother. It's a nice film about how tough it is for gay people to have relationships -- with everyone from family to friends to lovers.

Oh, Yeah, It's Working

I keep reading that the "surge" is working -- and not just from the dumb, demented or diabolical. Neocons aside, people like Hillary Clinton (please, Barack, find your voice quickly) also are acknowledging that the injection of more American soldiers in Iraq has pacified parts of that nation.

My reaction: So what?

The salient points remain the same: 1) Was invading Iraq worth -- at last count -- 3,725 American lives and tens of thousands of Iraqi lives? 2) Was it worth weakening the United States both militarily and morally? 3) Was it worth setting the stage for the election of an Islamic government once the Americans slink home? 4) Was it worth -- again, at last count -- nearly half-a-trillion dollars ($454,818,446,792)?

It doesn't surprise me that parts of Iraq are safer because more soldiers are patrolling them. It would surprise me if the end result was any different than I think it's going to be: that the Americans are going to withdraw (claiming victory, but -- in fact -- having been defeated), the Iraqis are going to suffer a period of turmoil (where fewer people die than have perished because of Bush's policies) and that Iraq will have a fundamentalist Islamic government in league with Iran.

Meanwhile, the whole adventure had zilch to do with combating terrorism. Well, almost nothing. As study after study after study has shown, Iraq was not a factor in terrorism before the United States made it one by its invasion and occupation -- thereby playing into the Islamic militants' hands. Read Lawrence Wright's "The Looming Tower" -- this year's Pulitzer Prize winner -- and tell me that Osama bin Laden isn't cackling in his cave at the sight of America bogged down in a war against Muslims. It's exactly what the terrorists want -- and, as luck would have it, a stupid president and his arrogant neo-con advisers accommodated that goal.

So, perhaps the "surge" is succeeding in quelling the violence in parts of Iraq. Unless you're willing to keep American troops there forever, though, it means little.

(The photo was taken by David Leeson of the Dallas Morning News)

Oh, I'm Gay?

It took me a long time to figure out 100 percent that I was gay. I mean a l-o-n-g time. But that speaks more to my naivete than anything else, because I certainly had clues.

For example: As a seventh-grader living at Eglin Air Force Base on northwest Florida's sugary-white Gulf coast, I'd go to youth-league baseball games with my dad -- not because I was remotely interested in the sport, but because the local team had a cute pitcher who always threw himself out of his shirt. Those glimpses of skin -- along with the Pixie Sticks I'd buy at the concession stand -- sustained me for weeks.

Of course, there were other clues in my early teen years. When pink bellies became a fad, I was in absolute heaven. And what budding Baby Boomer queer can forget TV shows like "Flipper," where kids our own age were running around shirtless for 30 minutes.

Still, I put those feelings on the back-burner. Not only did I have no idea what a "homosexual" was -- though I can still picture the precise moment I asked my parents about the word, which had just come up on a TV show (a rarity in the '60s) -- but I figured I would grow up like everyone else in the official version of Mainstream America and settle down with a wife and children.

Boy, was I stupid.

It began to dawn on me that I was gay -- though, again, that was such a foreign concept in my world that I didn't really understand it -- when I was a junior at Baumholder American High School in Germany. My best friend was a smart, witty, slightly stocky kid named Rich. Never once in the year or two we spent together at BAHS did the words "gay" or "homosexual" cross our lips. But even then, I suppose, my gaydar was finely tuned: I knew he was gay from Day 1. He, on the other hand, apparently was clueless about my orientation. It wasn't until about five years ago that I told him I was gay, too.

Anyway, I remember us going to bars in Baumholder (there was no true drinking age in Germany at that time) and getting plastered. Weekend after weekend. Once, when I stayed over at his house, we were stumbling home and I pretended to be drunker than I was. The reason? Simple: I wanted him to have to half-carry me home, knowing there was no way he could avoid skin-to-skin contact, thanks to a particularly loose shirt. It worked. One of his hands kept me from falling to the sidewalk -- pulling up my shirt in the process -- while the other wrapped around my naked waist. It was a total turn-on for me -- and, I'm guessing, for him.

Pretty strong clue, huh?

Idiotically, I continued to ignore the obvious for years after high school. Now and then, I'd "date" girls. The dates, needless to stay, never ended in sex, unless you consider a back rub to be sex. I think the reason I was so naive was twofold: 1) Although I was a media addict, newspapers and TV in those days pretty much pretended gay people didn't exist, so I wasn't exposed to issues like gay marriage that are now so commonly discussed; neither was I exposed to channels like MTV, which portrays gay folks as completely normal (not to mention trendy); and I wasn't exposed to the Internet, where chat rooms would have shown that there were millions of people just like me around the world. 2) I was scared. The little I read about homosexuality suggested it was a bad thing done by weird people. I was deeply into politics and journalism at the time, so I didn't spend much energy researching the topic. Call me a Sexual Capitalist: My attitude was laissez-faire -- whatever I would become, I'd become. Eventually, of course, it dawned on me that the mainstream media's portrayals were simple right-wing and Christian propaganda.

Slowly, I understood who I was. Slowly, I began dating guys. Less slowly, I began sleeping with guys. And I'm now who I am. But, as a 20something gay pal once told me with deep pity: "Oh, you missed out on things when you were young and cute. " Ouch. So, um, gay kids, don't put off your coming-out parties. You'll never regret being honest with yourself.

The Kid and the Kid

I absolutely love this photo of Roger Maris with the 19-year-old kid, Sal Durante, who caught his 61st home run ball at Yankee Stadium on Oct. 1, 1961. Doesn't it connote an infinitely more innocent era? Maris looks like the quintessential baseball-playing boy of postwar America. Contrast him to the steroid-built bodies of Mark McGwire and Barry Bonds.

As for Durante, Maris told him -- a la Bonds to the guys who caught his home runs -- to keep the ball and cash in. So Durante, a truck driver from Brooklyn, sold it for $5,000 to a restaurant owner in California.

"People say I was crazy for selling it for $5,000, but that was a lot of money back then," Durante, now 65 and living in Staten Island, told the New York Daily News recently. "That was a year-and-a-half's salary for me - I was taking home $60 a week back then. I have no regrets."

The restaurant owner eventually gave the ball to Maris.

Cool, no?

(Sources: New York Daily News and Time.com)

Of Cherries and Watermelon

Cherry season is over. Actually, it ended a week or two ago. The Rainiers that I craved 24/7 disappeared; the remaining Bings became subpar. If you haven't had a Rainier cherry, you cannot possibly understand the gap that now exists in my life. Firm, juicy and uncommonly sweet, they're to a typical cherry what Myrtle Beach is to Miami Beach. With one, you get putt-putt golf and taffy. With the other, you get palm trees and gelato. Soon, sadly, sweet watermelons, too, will be gone. Nothing -- absolutely nothing -- compares to crisp, sweet, juicy watermelon on a hot summer night. The only thing that keeps me going is the certainty that come June 2008, the cherries will be back, along with the melons. Hope. It's what makes life worth living.

Fratboy Flaks

Does anyone else wonder why major news organizations constantly quote spokesmen whenever politicians get into spats? I'm not talking about background information from campaigns, which no doubt is invaluable. I'm also not talking about substantive points from aides. I'm talking about the stupid, predictable "sound bite" quotes that come from PR people.

An example from the AP, quoting a Romney flak: "While we'd all like to be able to join Mr. Edwards and laugh off $400 haircuts, Mitt Romney believes that working families should be able to keep more of their money," Craig Stevens said.

That's like Swift Boat Lite. It allows the candidate to appear "presidential" while his people take jabs at opponents. Had Romney brought up Edwards' haircuts -- something that would never happen -- it would be newsworthy. To quote the aide is idiotic.

I know the rationale: Reporters can't always reach candidates, so they take what they can get from PR people. Even in my role as a sports editor at a college-town paper in Virginia, I understand how difficult it can be to get a hold of, say, a university president. But I would never quote his spokesman taking a cheap shot at somebody -- and not because of some holier-than-thou attitude. I just think it's dumb. The quotes add nothing to the public discourse and nothing to our understanding of the candidates (if only because they all do it). They just give one side a giggle and piss off the other side, like frat boys playing pranks on each other.

Hot Streets

For some reason I love this street scene from NYC. Yeah, yeah. I know. The guy is sexy as shit. But beyond that, it captures the city's feel on a sizzling summer day, I think. I took it in mid-July on the West Side. (You need to click onto the image to get the full effect.)

Yum July 27: Fresh Summer Pasta

This only works if you have fresh summer tomatoes -- like out of your garden or from the farmers market. It's a raw "sauce" that gets heated a little by the cooked pasta. A very summery flavor.

1) Chop some fresh summer tomatoes into a bowl (mix in some heirlooms, if you have them).
2) Chop in some fresh basil.
3) Mince a few garlic cloves and throw them in the bowl.
4) Add a splash of balsamic vinegar.
5) Drizzle generously with good olive oil.
7) Add salt and black pepper (I use sea salt and freshly ground pepper).
7) Add some pine nuts if you choose.
8) Mix everything together and let is sit while you boil water and cook penne pasta.
9) Drain the pasta and add it to the bowl.
10) Top with reg-parm (I use the cheaper, less-aged wedges).\
11) Mix it all together.

Quick and good.

The Sexist Billboard Ever

Armani Exchange has this billboard up all over NYC (top). It absolutely oozes sexuality, I think. Of course, the gay world's favorite shop doesn't ignore the homoerotic, either, as the ad below shows.

Yum 3

Here's a really good summer dish I concocted -- it's especially good if you have access to home-grown vegetables:

1) In olive oil, saute a small leek, a few cloves of garlic, two-thirds of a diced jalapeno pepper and about half a sweet bell pepper (red, orange or yellow) for a few minutes.
2) Add thinly sliced zucchini and yellow squash (a couple of medium ones, or four small ones). Sprinkle with salt and lots of freshly ground black pepper. Let it fry until you have to scrape the skillet.
3) Add a few fresh tomatoes, fresh parsley, a little fresh basil and some tomato juice (like from a can of diced tomatoes) and one-third to one-half a can of cannellini beans.
4) Add a few shakes of low-sodium soy sauce.
5) Cook on medium-high heat for a while, stirring occasionally to keep it from sticking (though the tomato juice also does that).

When it's done, serve over rice (which, of course, you should have started cooking before the main dish). I've used brown (tastier and more nutritious) or white (quicker). Top with shavings of parm-reg cheese.

For a salad, I sliced some strips of not-quite-ripe avocado, some strips of ripe papaya and a couple handfuls of mesclun lettuce sprinkled with salt and pepper. The dressing: the juice of two limes, a slurp of olive oil and a slurp of maple syrup.

Why Gay.com?

Guys have three reasons for logging onto gay.com: 1) they're horny, 2) they're lonely, or 3) they're socializing. Each is a perfectly good excuse for clicking onto a Web site that has both taken the toilets out of cruising and become the 21st century gay man's version of a town square.

Clearly, the cruising role is fundamental, but it isn't necessarily primary. Yes, gay.com is sex driven. Hang out in a big-city chat room for a few minutes and you're virtually guaranteed a quick hook-up -- assuming you want one. And lots of guys DO want one. But plenty of others are there just to chat, either because they're lonely or because they like the company. I've made lots of cyber friends and a handful of flesh-and-blood friends thanks to gay.com, and they're always mega-interesting people.

Of course, you do have to pick and choose. For me, a "way left" under the politics portion of the profile is a huge turn-on. So is a cute wit and sense of humor. Turn-offs are multiple, too. Among them:

1) A picture of your dick. You know, certain things should remain a mystery. I guess some guys get insta-chubbies when they see a penis staring at them. For me, it's just a total yawn. Not to mention classless.

2) A butt spread out like a filleted chicken breast. Again, not my cup of tea. I mean, a little butt is fine, but I can do without the visual anatomy lesson. If you insist on displaying your butt, please be under 30. A kid's butt is inherently cute; an older guy's butt is borderline gross. (And, for the record, I'm 20 years over the limit.)

3) Screen names of guys in their 30s or 40s that include "boy" or "kid." Um, here's a little piece of intelligence fresh from Bush's covert NSA spy program: You're NOT a kid anymore. Now, let me stress that I like guys who retain a young demeanor, be they 30 or 50 or 70. Too many "adults" become boring, closed-minded and humorless. BUT that doesn't mean you're a "boy" or "kid," so stop the subterfuge, please.

4) Guys whose first question is: "What do you like to do?" Answer: "I like to X you off my screen."

5) People who don't have enough balls to post a picture of themselves. These guys may be great folks, but you've gotta have some guts. I assume they're staying anonymous for one of two reasons: 1) they're unsightly, or 2) they don't want people to know they're gay. I do have sympathy for Reason No. 1. If a guy is fat or thinks he's unattractive for another reason, the only way he might be able to chat with people is by hiding his appearance. His goal, I suppose, is to get his foot in the door -- to get to know a guy, mesh personality-wise and then hope that looks don't matter. (Yeah, right. This is GAY.com, remember?) Reason No. 2 is just stupid. I mean, first of all, if you're on a gay site that requires you to register, your straight boss or straight brother or straight arch-enemy isn't likely to find your profile. And, second, nobody wants to chat with a blank face. Grow a set of balls and post your picture.

6) Guys who talk about nothing but sex. Usually, these are older people, like 40 and over. Why I don't know. Maybe because they're jaded and don't want to "waste their time" making friends with someone. Maybe because they've been cruising so long they've lost all sense of romance. Sad really.

Anyway, gay.com is cool. You just have to know why you're there and why the guy you're chatting with is there.

Random Thoughts on a Friday Night

1) I was startled to see a Virginia license plate here this week that read: "NOMOMEX." Offensive? Unless I'm reading it completely wrong, I think so. But, then, I also for the first time saw a Sons of the Confederacy plate with a tiny Rebel flag affixed to it. For a minute, I thought I'd been flushed into Mississippi. I wonder if Virginia would allow the Human Rights Campaign or PETA or NORML or a pro-abortion group to have special plates. I know, I know. The Sons of the Confederacy represents part of the state's heritage. So does a noose. Doesn't mean I want it on license plates.

2) Queen Anne's Lace might be my favorite weedy flower. It's no tulip, but there's something wonderfully egalitarian about this plain-jane white flower. It seems to grow anywhere. I've seen it in the high mountains of West Virginia, and I've read that it's also common in Sicily -- meaning its habitat includes both northern and Mediterranean climates. Today, driving through Harrisonburg, I saw a clump of them growing out of a mound of dirt at a construction site. Cool, I thought. Even its fragrance is down-to-earth -- a very faint sweetness if you put your nose directly on the flower. Ironically, the English -- supposedly so frilly compared to Americans -- have a different name for Queen Anne's Lace: wild carrot. How perfectly egalitarian.

The Gong Show -- American Democracy At Work

American presidential elections jumped the shark in 1988. Remember Michael Dukakis in the tank, looking like a Tonka Toy puttering around the yard? Or Willie Horton, a Massachusetts criminal whom the Republicans twisted into a symbol of Dukakis' supposedly squishy soft record on crime? Or the clinical answer Dukakis gave when asked during a debate what he would do if his wife were brutalized and raped? Or Lloyd Bentson eviscerating Dan Quayle?

Such is how we select the leader of the free world.

Ensuing elections weren't quite so comically idiotic, mostly because they got slicker. Bill Clinton stands up and walks toward the audience during a debate, and the people cheer. George The First glances at his wristwatch during a debate, and the people scowl. An uncommonly bright man, Al Gore, is ridiculed, while an uncommonly dumb man, George The Second, follows his handlers' script straight to the White House. John Kerry, a decorated war veteran, is trashed for his service, while a chicken-hawk, George The Second again, is portrayed as a man of courage and vision.

Out of this come the candidates who, presumably, possess the intellectual firepower and intellectual honesty to deal with Islamic terrorism, dwindling oil resources, China's emergence as a superpower, global warming, the potential of a society-crippling flu pandemic, the changing face of America and a cruel megalomaniac in a nuclear-armed North Korea. Not to mention health care and the environment and social issues like abortion and gay rights.

The platform we've chosen to test these men and women adds insult to injury: two rural, white states that reflect American society as accurately as a carnival mirror.

Having said all of that, I'm utterly addicted to the entire stupid charade. I'm glued to CSPAN this time of year, watching the candidates' antics at diners, parades, businesses and rallies throughout Iowa and New Hampshire.

With that in mind, here's my thumbnail views on the men and women who would lead us:

DEMOCRATS

Hillary Clinton: I respect her command of issues and her experience. I think she was wrong on Iraq for way too long, but I also don't think she would have launched a "preemptive" strike. I also think she would do almost anything to become president, which isn't necessarily a deal-killer. And, hey, we'd get Billy Boy back.

Barack Obama: I really like his brain-power and his thoughtfulness. I really don't like his lack of fire. Overall, though, he's my man. Being black and multi-cultural is a huge plus, simply because it brings a mindset that whites rarely can match. He was right on Iraq from the beginning, though I'd like to see him be more radical in his exit plan.

John Edwards: Man, that youtube video of him preening is devastating. He looks so fake. But I think that's just because he's been a lawyer and politician his whole life, meaning a degree of subterfuge is ingrained in him. I do believe his views on two Americas -- rich and poor -- are sincere and correct. And I respect his forthright acknowledgement that he was wrong to vote for the Iraq invasion. I'd enthusiastically vote for him, either for prez or veep.

Bill Richardson: The man should have more gravitas than he's given credit for. Nobel Peace Prize nominee, cabinet member, governor. He's got credentials. But ... he lacks "it."

Joe Biden: OK, he is gabby, but articulately so. He's extremely reasonable -- if that's possible. But he seems like yesterday's news.

Dennis Kucinich: Gotta love Dennis The Menace. Not only is he dead-right on almost every issue, but he's also a vegetarian. Sadly, he looks like Alfred E. Neuman (the Mad magazine guy) and is totally unelectable.

Chris Dodd: The former party animal is a very likeable candidate. But he completely lacks presidential presence.

Mike Gravel: A gruffer Kocinich. Plus, he looks like a libertarian.

Al Gore: Not a candidate. Not a chance.


REPUBLICANS

Rudy Giuliani: How weak are the Republicans? Look who's leading the polls. My god. This guy's personality would kill him before Labor Day. Yes, he was a profile in courage during 9/11. No, that doesn't qualify him to be president.

Mitt Romney: It's become politically incorrect to mention that Romney is a Mormon. But he is, and a devout one. That's a legitimate political issue, just as Joe Lieberman's extremely conservative Judaism was in 2000. Why? Simply because both men have made a point of wearing their religion on their sleeves. And, it should be noted, the question isn't one of faith; it's how closely Romney would adhere to Mormon doctrine on social issues.

John McCain: I have no doubt McCain would melt down under the glare of a national campaign. Give him credit for standing tall on issues he really believes in -- immigration reform and campaign finance reform, both anathema to the right wing -- but I question his stability. And he's delusional on Iraq. (Remember the infamous stroll through the market in Baghdad?) Plus, he looks like 100 rather than 70.

Fred Thompson: He was a lousy senator and he'd be a lousy president. He's definitely positioning himself on the rabid right. Earlier, I thought he was the biggest threat to Democrats. I still think he has the charm and acting ability to fool America and get into the White House. But I'm hoping his extremely conservative views will eventually sour the public on him.

Tommy Thompson: I've seen way too much of this clown on CSPAN. He's the most awkward, annoying campaigner in history. Zero chance.

Sam Brownback: I respect Brownback. I think he's genuine, and I was impressed that he spoke at one of the memorial services for -- I think -- Coretta Scott King. He's a thoughtul guy who's just too damn religious. Hence, he's wrong on every issue.

Jim Gilmore: Please, get this nobody off TV. He has the charisma of a doorknob, and his legacy in life will be cutting the car tax as governor of Virginia. Yay. And doesn't America really need a former party chairman as its leader?

Tom Tancredo: The good thing about him is he's helping ensure that the Democratic Party will get the lion's share of Latino votes for decades to come. His anti-immigrant rhetoric is disgusting.

Ron Paul: OK, I love his views on Iraq. But he's a libertarian, so there's the wacko factor.

In short, I don't think there's a winner in the Republican field.

Yum 2

This is vegetarian version of Brazilian stew. I checked out various recipes, using one in Vegetarian Times as a rough base. But instead of tempeh or potatoes, I used mushrooms to give it a hearty taste. It ain't bad.

1) In a skillet with onions and olive oil, saute a box of sliced mushrooms (I used baby portabellos). Sprinkle them with salt, pepper and low-sodium soy sauce. Toss in some freshly chopped parsley.

2) In a deep skillet, saute a red onion, three-quarters of a jalapeno pepper and a sliced celery stalk in olive oil and the juice of one lime.

3) After the onions have cooked for a few minutes, add 1 cup of vegetable broth, a can of black beans (or, if you have the patience, uncanned black beans), some fresh chopped tomatoes, a couple cloves of minced garlic, a half of a minced chipotle chile in adobo sauce (weird little things), the previously sauteed mushrooms, some dried italian herbs, a few minced basil leaves, a dash of Saigon cinnamon, a small slurp of maple syrup, the juice of another lime, salt and pepper. At the end, stir in some freshly chopped parsley.

4) Simmer for 20-30 minutes, covered (or uncovered if you want it to be crispier).

5) Serve one of two ways: a) as a soup that you can dip crusty bread into (I used a walnut-raisin bread), or b) as a stew on top of rice (delish). Toss in some cheese chunks if you choose (anything from cheddar to mozz).

Thoughts on a Summer Night

Random thoughts on a Saturday night:

1) I think I have a new favorite Edward Hopper painting. I still love "Nighthawks," the stark, lonely diner in Greenwich Village. But I think I like "Gas" even better. It reminds me of my visits as a kid to my grandmother's house in the mountains of West Virginia.

2) Nothing -- nothing -- smells worse that rotten tomatoes. Unless it's rotten bananas.

3) After five decades, it's official: my two favorite fruits (shut up) are cherries (especially Rainier) and watermelon. I eat them non-stop from June to August.

4) I continue to think Obama would make a fab prez. But he isn't catching fire, I think, because of his low-key rhetoric and because of his extreme caution. His cat-and-mouse game with Hillary on the Iraq vote a few weeks ago was disgusting. It was a great opportunity for him to demonstrate leadership, regardless of the fallout. Instead, he played crass politics.

5) A friend showed me a study by a University of Virginia prof on how most straight guys have a visceral repulsion toward gays. The reason: Gay sex disgusts them. No duh.

6) If you had any doubt that Dick Cheney is an evil puppet-master, read the Washington Post series on how he helped steer America into the Iraq war, how he made sure the U.S. was allowed to torture prisoners and hold them indefinitely without charges, and how he helped circumvent environmental safeguards. That is one son of a bitch.

7) Do your brain a favor and read "Looming Tower" by Stephen Wright. It's a fascinating account of the rise of Islamic extremism. Regardless of your political beliefs, you'll come away with a far better understanding of Osama and his crowd.

8) I played Gay Gumshoe the other day. (It seems, by the way, that nobody under 40 knows what a "gumshoe" is; it's a private eye.) A straight friend asked me to check out his 18-year-old cousin's myspace page to see if I could detect his sexuality. The reason: the kid had asked somebody else about ways people commit suicide, and my friend was worried about him. After 20 minutes or so, I concluded, with near certainty, that he was gay -- newly minted, though, and worried about the consequences of his orientation. I asked a college-age friend in Houston to check it out, too. It took him maybe 25 seconds. Verdict: gay. Anyway, I passed on the info to my pal. I hope he talks to him. Soon.

Um, Yeah, He's Sexy

Ronaldinho

(AP Photo -- click for hi-res)

Funny, But ...

Being gay, I hate religion. I don't think there's an alternative. That doesn't mean I hate the idea of a god. On the contrary, it would be great it there were one, if there were an afterlife, if we were reunited with our loved ones in bliss. But religion and god aren't synonymous. Far from it.

I've never understood why rational men and women subjugate their minds to the Bible or the Quron or other holy books. I can see using them as a resource, just as you would use another philosophical tract. But to take it as gospel baffles me.

Anyway, I got to thinking about this again when I stumbled across a Muslim comedian named Baba Ali. His stuff is on youtube under ummahfilms. It's very funny and sometimes thought-provoking, especially his explanation of why he converted to Islam.




Did you watch it? Funny, no? But also sincere.

As a gay person, of course, Islam is abhorrent to me. While Christians consider us sinners and abominable, most don't want to execute us. I believe the same could be said of most Muslims. BUT there are theocracies -- Iran and Saudia Arabia come to mind -- where gays have been killed for being gay. Sometimes beheaded. Sometimes hanged. All in the name of Allah. Want proof? These hideous photos from the Iranian Student News Service, published worldwide two years ago, show two gay teenagers -- one 18, the other 16 or 17 -- being executed. Gay rights advocates said it was simply for having gay sex; Iran said they "raped" a third boy. Because the third boy was 13, it was considered rape whether or not he consented.




Photos of gay teens' hanging in 2005 by ISNA



Obviously, there are tolerant Muslims and intolerant Muslims, although I'd use "tolerant" carefully. The tolerant ones might throw gays in jail rather than hang them. The Quran, after all, makes it clear that homosexuality is evil. Even Iran, according to one activist there, doesn't aggressively pursue gays for punishment. But it happens. Legally. Because of religion.

I'd love for a converted Muslim to explain to me the appeal of his new religion.