Chely Wright Rules! Pass It On!

I’m not typically a curator-type pass-it-along blogger, but this interview with Chely Wright is one of the most refreshing interviews I’ve read in a very long time.  And it’s a coming-out interview!

I’ve been out for so long, that even though of course I respect and admire those who are courageous enough to come out, and I applaud and support them when they do—and encourage them to do so before they do, typically the story is the same and well, I’ve been there.

But Chely Wright.  She’s smart and wise beyond what she has any right being.

All that, and she left her cynicism somewhere far away from the journalist’s audio recorder.  Good girl.

My favorite quote:

I wasn’t just in the closet, Whitney. I was behind the sheetrock in the closet.

Anyway, you can read it for yourself. Unfortunately, she’s probably right about Nashville and the Country Music Community.  Back in 1995, when Ty Herndon was arrested for showing his penis to an undercover policeman while cruising in Griffith Park in Dallas, TX, that night in Nashville the news shows were doing retrospectives on Herndon’s career, talking about how his career was already over when it was just getting started.  Not because he got arrested, mind you, but because he was gay.

Herndon tried to ungay himself, plea-bargaining away the indecent-exposure charge by leveraging the drugs charge (they found amphetamines—probably E—in his truck): he claimed he was under the influence of the drugs and that’s what made him do what he did and so if he underwent drug treatment they’d drop the charge.

So uppers make you want cock in the uppers, and being a drug addict is far better than being gay. That’s what Nashville preferred to believe.

Herndon quickly released a video, a duet with a woman. W. O. M. A. N. and his label got it played in heavy rotation (sort of like you do with the cock in the uppers sometimes) so that everyone kept seeing Ty singing to a female and a female singing back.

His career wasn’t over after all, but it never did recover fully.

But Chely is having none of that.  She’s out and proud, living her life in truth, being a good shepherd to her life, as she puts it.

She makes me proud of her and proud of myself for having been doing the same.

So thank you, Chely, for your words, which are better than my words have been, in some ways.  Words which may be good enough for many others who would have otherwise remained living in the dark, living in lies.

Welcome to your life out in the sun.  With us.

The Missus We Missed

Let’s do an experiment. Which one is sexist and “anti-feminist” and “rhymes with witch[y]” and “vapid” and “sheerly mindless”, and which one slipped by the supposedly liberal MSM as charmingly in-character?

[She] would be a really good candidate [for president], is not interested. Probably because she is single, her parents are no longer living, she’s an only child. You need a very supportive family and supportive friends to have this job.

…and…

[Neither of us] have family members that will pay the price for this escalation. My point was to focus attention on our military families who continue to sacrifice because this Administration has not developed a political solution to the situation in Iraq.

Obviously the latter one was by Barbara Boxer. But the former? Why, none other than Mrs. “my husband tried to milk a bull” Laura Bush. Where was the so-called Liberal Media then, jumping all over her for being sexist and discriminatory towards Condoleeza Rice?

Poor cunty Andrew Sullivan thought Barbara Boxer, one of the most fervent and powerful politicians to support equal rights for gays & lesbians, to be “Vile”

That’s the only word to describe Senator Boxer’s ad feminam attack on Condi Rice yesterday. There was a trace of homophobia to the smear as well. This kind of attack is like the “chickenhawk” smear and worthy of low-life liars like Michael Moore. We really should be able to debate national security without the politics of personal destruction. The senator should apologize. Today.

Really, Andrew? REALLY? Maybe you should apologize—FINALLY, today!—for talking out your ass about gay men need to espouse monogamy and soi-disant mature behavior while your mouth was too busy parked at your favorite watering glory hole doing public service. And while you’re at it, apologize to everyone you castigated who fought for equal rights according to their own values and principles, simply because you don’t really care for “liberals”.

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The Uphill Drive To The Ambien Pit

Sleep and Not.

Write and Not.

Comes the blanketing of the sky, thick clouds bursting forth from a small oblong pill.

There’s Fine work to do, a specific handicraft called to task, and I’m wearing giant mittens made out of wooly-thought.

Swat at the walls with kite-sized mittens held hamfisted and ungainly, making a mess.

The need to sleep and the wish to not. Groggily we roll along, roll along, roll along! Tetchily we stomp it down, stomp it down, stomp it down!

Stomp it down, Skippy. It’s time to surrender to the pill, even though it couldn’t be buggered to better itself, fashion itself into an ambien CR. No, this ambien is a one-pump-chump, so I only get one shot at, well, the shot.<?p>

If my fingers stop aping my thoughts (such as they are) because I’ve wandered away from the MacBook Pro and, say, out into the flirty-bitter Dead Night Air of Northern Pennsylvania, how will they eulogize the irony of the small thoughts vanquishing the big head; how will they work their irenics to spin the dull dun deed into a rainbow of ironics?

How will they explain Thomas A-Quinone using his unstoppable force of mind to move the unmovable frozen body of the God of Ambien into Toby’s Creek (pron: crick)? As nothing more than an attempt at a recipe he found in 1978 Mixologists Bible?

They slap their heads in a dozen individual “ah ha!” moments as they land on the final product: Gin & Chthonics!

Except they didn’t become 100% sure until the limes were dropped in the tumblers.<?p>

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Purpose-Driven Hypocrisy

All you’ll hear from rightwing bloggers is how the MSM (mainstream media to those of you who aren’t total label-dependent losers) doesn’t care about religion, about how it ignores the fact of wide-spread christianity in this country.

Riiiiight.

Yesterday on Meet The Press, Rick Warren and the Editor of Newsweek were on talking about christianity and religions for the entire show. Rick Warren got to pimp his ministries and tell the world how he’s not like the other religions.

Tonight, ABC news had a whole special on christianity in this country, citing statistics like “79% of Americans identify as Christian, 26% identify as Evangelical Christian”. 26 was never such a scary number. Then the piece went on to talk about Christian schools and teen pledges of virginity and exploring the nuances of the jesusy teeny-boppers’ concept of “messing up”. Which apparently means when a teen boy masturbates.

At least no kittens get killed.

So back to Rick Warren. I was watching him talk. He was saying all the right things. About how there’s no respect among people who disagree. About how there are more important things in the world to be accomplished than political wins. Like poverty. Like education. Like HIV & AIDS.

Right on, Brother Warren!

And he talked about how the megachurches and politico-religious have forgotten that a central tenet of their religions is this: humility.

Can I really be hearing this? Is this the beginning of a new era of civil disagreement? Where everyone begins by respecting the basic humanity of one another while even vehemently disagreeing? Where not everyone walks in with the Correct Way to do things, without a socio-political Not Invented Here Syndrome? With—dare I say it—humility?

Off to Google. “Rick Warren”. “Saddleback Church”. “Purpose Driven”.

What did I find? I found Kay Warren, Rick’s wife, ministering to the sick:

“I’m here to tell you there is hope because the Church of Jesus Christ is getting up, and when the Church of Jesus Christ gets up, things happen,” Gataha said. “When the Church is getting up, HIV/AIDS will sit down.”<br/> “If we don’t do something, who will? If we don’t show God’s love, who will? If we don’t show up, who will?”

Ummm, ‘who will?’ How about the rest of us who have been trying to do and actually doing things for over twenty years, you stupid bitch? How about those who have been struggling to get people help, get prevention education in place, and all the while having to fight people like you who stopped us at every turn, who went on claiming that the wages of sin were death?

For someone who opts into a book of popular mythology which goes back over most of recorded history, you sure don’t have a sense of the past, lady.

As if you thought her “humility” wasn’t suffering enough already, she goes on:

Now she’s leading Saddleback’s HIV/AIDS Initiative and encouraging other churches to start their own HIV/AIDS ministries. “The goal I see is to end HIV,” she said. “Humanly speaking, it’s impossible. When God enters the problem, suddenly things become possible.”

Ahh, so she does have a sense of history after all. She acknowledges that others have been trying to save peoples’ lives. But where have our efforts fallen short? We haven’t left it up to God to fix.

Well, how about that.

So let’s think about all this “humility” floating around. These are like the cavalry, letting everyone else fight the good fight and coming in, refreshed and ready and loving the smell of abstinence in the morning, to save the day.

Not only that, but apparently, HIV is a blessing for Christians:

HIV/AIDS gives the Church the chance to do what it has been called to do – to love other people and to love God, [Robert Redfield] said.<br/>

•••

Sam Brownback, a senator from Kansas, said that American Christians have been given much and must use those gifts to help people who are suffering. “If we’ll just give them the crumbs off our table, they can live and we can save our souls,” he said.

So there we have it. They do for their own rewards, offering the rest of us their crumbs, so they can sleep at night.

I write this while watching Saturday Night Fever on Cinemax. Tony Manero just said something relevant:

“Everybody’s gotta have somebody to dump on.”

Well, how about that. Maybe that’s the true anti-gay agenda. They just need someone to dump on.

And what, then, is humility? Humility is this: I welcome all their true efforts to end HIV and AIDS irrespective of their motives if it means life for more people. Not only do I welcome their help, I am begging their help, begging everyone’s help. I miss Allen each and every day. I would do anything to have him back, including selling my soul so that Sam Brownback will give us those precious, supposedly life-saving crumbs from his table.

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So What Happens Now?

So Mary Cheney is pregnant. Done deal.

From a progressivist standpoint, she’s chosen to have the baby, but her choice wasn’t one based on anguish or even desperation. She chose before she got pregnant. It’s obviously a bit more difficult than an accidental unprotected cock clasped in vagina for a gay couple to become pregnant. They discuss the idea, do whatever level of math on it that they’re comfortable with, and take steps to make it happen. It’s quite Pro-Life, actually, to decide in favor of bringing a new life into the world. So yes, from a progressivist standpoint, she will have the baby.

From a neocon standpont, she’s stillllll pregnant! Only we all know ahead of time what kind of family the child will be born into. We know that the baby won’t have a one-mother, one-father environment. We know, as neocons, that he or she will be under the influence of the Gay Agenda. We know, as neocons, that the one-man-one-woman context is better than any kind of environment a gay couple—simply because they’re gay—could ever provide. We also know that we’d never “murder an unborn baby” because it’s wrong…meaning, we know, from a neocon standpoint, she will have the baby.

Progressives—at least the ones who put humanity before politics—are happy that the child will have loving parents who will provide a stable home. The same subset of progressives—among which I fancy myself to be included—breathed a huge sigh of relief when the more famous set of the the child’s presumptive grandparents announced how happy they were to be welcoming a grandchild.

We know that not all is well for the neocons. Janice “Vulvamatic” Crouse called the situation “unconscionable” and Carrie Gordon “Sugar Tits” Earll insisted that “Love can’t replace a mother and a father.”

So why haven’t the Crouses and Earlls of the world come forth to proactively be “prolife” and try to remove the baby from the custody of the two big dykes? I mean, if they want to live according to their principles, they should be fighting to remove the child once it’s born from the clutches of the obviously inferior parentage and into a foster home that has a one-man, one-woman configuration. Those neocons less interested in the christianist side of the argument should be encouraging Mary to abort.

If they don’t, they’re just talking out their nethermouths and should shut the fuck up—but not before admitting their hatefulness and apologizing to Mary and Heather.

There’s no way to directly contact Mrs. Crouse, but you can email her work to see how she intends to correct Mary Cheney’s unconscionable act. As for Butter Nipples Earll, well, there’s a less indirect route, but still not so satisfying as it could be. But then again, you’ll be emailing someone who’s probably never been truly satisfied in her own lifetime.

Maybe we should leave it up to that self-satisfied, never-satisfied screeder, Bill O’Reilly? From Salon.com:

the December 13 edition of Fox News’ The O’Reilly Factor, Bill O’Reilly dismissed scientific research on same-sex parenting to assert that “[n]ature dictates that a dad and a mom is the optimum” form of child-rearing. O’Reilly asked “why,” if children suffer no psychosocial deficit from being raised by same-sex parents, “wouldn’t nature then make it that anybody could get pregnant by eating a cupcake?” O’Reilly declared that by arguing in favor of same-sex couples’ right to raise children, “you’re taking Mother Nature and you’re throwing it right out the window, and I just think it’s crazy.”

Bill must have had some really good cupcakes in his day.

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Two, Two, Two Loves in One!

How did I not know until right now that two of my favorite actresses, Sarah Paulson and Cherry Jones, were a couple?

Tonys This is like Christmas come early! Ever since I saw Sarah Paulson in Down With Love, I knew she had that magnetic something going on. As for Cherry Jones, well, c’mon. Just look at her and you know there’s magic going on.

I’m not sure if I’m happy because it’s just two people who I admire, or if it’s because I’m happy to share a demographic with two such talented people, or if my affinity for each of them makes me extra happy that they both have each other.

I’m just happy about it!

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Fuck Reuters and Fuck the Pope

Reuters runs this ad on cnet’s news.com.com:

Reutersad

And if you follow the ad’s link, you get another story about the Pope bitching and whining about the “folly” of gay marriage as he belittles the “freedom of choice”.

Wasn’t Free Will a Gift of the Creator? Call it a cassock & surplice, or call it a robe, but it’s still a dress he’s bedecked in, and so I can call it crossdressing. Isn’t it fun to fuck with word-meanings?

All these “signs” of Western “decay” point to “an eclipse of God” in the West.

So while we’re telling Reuters and the Pope to fuck the fuck off, let’s include Catholic butt-boy Aquinas in it, too: who the fuck cares about your theories of god playing unstoppable badminton with an immovable shuttlecock? God isn’t playing physics, y’all, he’s too busy sunning himself under a sun that he can lose access to.

Oh, and Reuters? O Bastion of “Liberal Media”? You’re missing a third checkbox: Equality.

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I’ve Finally Been To Me

NovSo this Saturday is the November installment of a dance club/event called “Bearracuda”. It’s a themed event, geared towards to jovial boys with sometimes jovian bodies, and with lots of follicular, furry, fleecy, fuzzy funness. “And their admirers.”

A couple of months ago I was approached by the producer of the event (a tall, handsome, can’t-say-no-to kind of guy) to be a “model” for their events. I had been to one of these events before, and it was a whole mess of fun, aaaaand, having never done anything like this before, I said, “Sure, why not!”

And so I did.

For the last few weeks, posters featuring me and a guy called David with our shirts off made their appearance on the web and, more germanely, in the Castro. As Paula-Bone and I were walking down the street last week, I came face to face with….ME! There was my visage, in all its circular glory, hanging on the door of an softcore porn erotica store.

Click on the pic and take a look, IF YOU DARE!!!

But by all means, don’t let the bearity of the event, or more likely, my face gracing the poster, stop you from attending the event this Saturday, November 18. The Deco Lounge is a fun place, and everyone’s friendly and there’s zero attitude. It’s classic Bear, without the typical bitchiness from the lookists.

All that said, my favorite feedback so far for the poster comes from my friend Derek: “That poor cub, with the PleasurePiggy stuck to his back!”

I love my friends, I love my friends, I love my friends…

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“Gay Marriage” and “Pro-Life”

Same-sex Marriage is not gay marriage. It’s marriage. You don’t have to be gay to avail yourself of a same-sex marriage. Just like I can avail myself of the institution of marriage right now, so long as the one I’m marrying has an inny to my out-y.

Pro-Life is not Pro Life: it’s Pro-pagation of the Faith. I should know, I remember the agency’s relationship the Diocese of Scranton. Every Diocese makes obeisance to the Society for the Propagation of the Faith. After all, it’s the sales & marketing arm of the Catholic Church and no amount of truth (or “Truth”) is enough to keep membership up. It’s like KQED and Public Television: it’s free and it’s awesome, but you still have to have membership drives—and some of the funds raised by the membership drive go to fund the next membership drive, etc., etc.

On the other hand, I never thought the word “gay” would be said so frequently and so relatively blithely by everyone. Still, it’s a demonizing word when used to build the phrase “gay marriage”. It’s ironic, too, because as the Rightwingers attempt to separate marriage from gay marriage, their real argument is that people will confuse them as the same thing and therefore the notion of marriage will mean nothing.

You know, it’d be like Baptists saying that Catholics aren’t Christians because if you let the Catholics call themselves Christian then Christianity will be diluted by welcoming everyone to Jesus.

And look! A timely timing for me. Today the Catholics issued a set of guidelines on how to handle the homos. They’re (we’re) supposed to be welcomed, but we’re not to have sex or, god forbid, fall in love. We’re only supposed to ‘come out’ to a ‘small group of people’—I have a feeling that they didn’t explicitly set a number on what constitutes ‘small group’. And if we ‘openly embrace’ the ‘homosexual lifestyle’ (what is this, the 1970s?), then we are not permitted to hold ‘leadership positions’ in the Church. Does that mean that only bottoms of the non-pushy variety are allowed to be as out and proud and stylishly-lived as they wish and still be held close to Jesus’ muscular bosom?

So get it right, folks. It’s same-sex marriage. If you’re straight, you can have one. The gays aren’t interested in abridging straight’s rights. You’d be able to marry within or without your own gender, just like everyone else. As an added bonus, your race will be rendered equally moot with respect to your choices!

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“I, Rank Scrotum”

That’s R-I-C-K-S-A-N-T-O-R-U-M, anagramized.

Or exposed. Exposed for what he really is. Whatever.

With apologies to the interruption I’m creating in easier-thinking of the right-wing whack-jobs “out” there, I am most certainly not a student of schadenfreude. I don’t enjoy the misfortune of others; however, I don’t have to make the effort to help certain people avoid bad things happening to them.

Sometimes irony is more than just a useful rhetorical device; oftentimes it provide exactly the right camera angle from which to accentuate particularly vicious or vituperative hypocrisy.

The irony of Ted Haggard isn’t that he preached real, if non-physical, violence against gays and their spouses and children and ends up being a big ol’ dicksmoker himself. Nor that he preaches the sanctity of marriage can be achieved/maintained by the simple existence of a law: even thought there are currently laws in place which “protect” heterosexual marriage it doesn’t stop him from desecrating his own holy union by having sex with someone else. Nor do anti-drug laws stop him from spending hundreds of dollars in tithed money on crystal meth while most gay men would try to stop even him from going down the horrible path of crystal meth addiction.

The real irony, to me, is pulling a Clinton with “I didn’t inhale” tactics. He bought crystal multiple times and never used it? Paid an escort several times and got massages? Bullshit. Clinton smoked pot; Haggard smoked meth and dick.

And then Taggard lied about it, several times. Good lord.

But then there’s Rick Santorum, down by “thirteen points!” says Marie.

She asked me if I had plans tomorrow and I said, “just to vote”. She said, with glee, that she expected to be parked in front of the TV to watch Rick Santorum go down in flames. That’s not schadenfreude either; she knows to what extent that man has damaged people both generally and specifically. She knows what’s at stake for her gay son and for other people.

She knows that it’s comeuppance.

I don’t necessarily buy that, nor any of the arguments based on karma or cosmic retribution.

For me it’s much simpler, more concrete: rot at the core spreads outward. And when it starts to smell, there’s no hiding it and there’s no keeping people from distancing themselves from the putrescence.

Rick Santorum is not an honorable anything. He’s a scrote. He’s an opportunist interested only in protecting that which helps him disburse his vile phenotype as widely as possible.

I was going to say ¡adios! to him, but that means “go with god”. Rick is so far gone it’s more valid to say “go to god”. Go, Rick. He misses you. You’ve been too far away from him for too long.

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