Ad Memoriam: America, July 4, 1776 - September 11, 2001

This past Sunday marked a painful anniversary for the United States. The image included today is Marcus Halevy's iconic photo from the week after; this image gave me hope. It still does. For me, the 9/11 experience can be summed up in three songs: “Three Little Birds,” by Bob Marley; “Times Like These” (live version, not studio) by The Foo Fighters; and “The Rising” by Bruce Springsteen.

I really wanted to ignore the tenth anniversary for a lot of reasons. First and foremost, I hate how the fascist corporate whores who were running the country into the ground at the time used and abused the incident to justify an unjust war that has claimed millions of lives. Second, how 9/11 was used to destroy our Constitutional freedoms; third, how it was used to justify prejudice and has helped to create a movement towards the elimination of the First Amendment and a push towards turning the U.S. into a Christo-fascist dictatorship. I wish I was joking or exaggerating. Fourth, the fact that the cocksucking politico whores didn’t invite NYPD, FDNY, and rescue workers to the memorial… yeah. Fifth, after sending troops into Afghanistan 10 years ago, Draft Dodger/Retard Bush* and his corporate masters passed legislation cutting benefits for veterans and their survivors… Sixth, the survivors can’t get decent health coverage (and have been coming up with lovely forms of cancer) or benefits because, hey, why the fuck should the ungrateful legislative whores in the pockets of the insurance companies defy their corporate masters? Seventh, the Bush administration allowed the Saudi royal family and friends to fly out of the US on the day after, when all other private and commercial jets were grounded. Eighth, shall we discuss the Patriot Act? Christ, I just want to spit—September 11, 2001 – the day used as an excuse to destroy America.

And then, yesterday, while I was driving down the Lynn Fells Parkway on a glorious, beautiful, stunning September Sunday morning, I happened to flip the radio and come upon Bruce Springsteen’s “The Rising.” I wept like a broken child because Bruce’s voice and lyrics captured the reality of the day for me—both anthem and hymn, praise and mourning, defiance and acceptance, and it flooded back—that horrible, awful day… coming out into the doctor’s waiting room from my appointment before 10 a.m. to have this couple who had just driven up from The Cape tell me what they’d heard on the radio, and me saying it couldn’t be true… and then… then the news. Frantically trying to reach the guy I had been casually dating because he’d been driving down to NYC every Tuesday for business. Calling former students and emailing and making sure everyone was accounted for because a few of our kids had gone to grad school down there (and I was never so thankful that I’d listened to my instincts and NOT gone to the Actor’s Studio for the MFA—it was in the same block as St. Vincent’s, one of the front line hospitals)… that horrible, empty feeling that something so ugly, so stupid, so evil could be done in the name of ideology.

Ever notice that “ideology” sounds a lot like “idiotology” when pronounced out loud?

All the dead. All those emergency personal. All of the ordinary people who did extraordinary things that day. All of those families, those children…

That was what was the good thing about that horrible day—we all were a little kinder, a little gentler to each other. As a nation, we’d been punched in the gut and realized for a few days what was really important—each other.

A few days after, I heard the Bob Marley song “Three Little Birds,” and I wept, grieving and knowing that somehow, it would get better.

I flew to Philly a couple of weeks later to see my best friend, KJ. My Mum didn’t want me to go—she was terrified of me flying so close to the time, and those planes… those planes had originated at Logan. Going through Logan wasn’t pleasant—seeing Staties in riot gear and automatic weapons was as shocking as it was the first time I went through DeGaulle in Paris. I had asked the people I’d been talking to on the plane if there had been a terrorist attack and was told, “Oh, no, this is normal.” It was painful to see it become normal here. Understand that I love to fly—I live for the moment of take off, when the plane “slips the surly bonds of earth.” It’s a magical moment. What transformed the experience for me that night was looking out of the plane and seeing lights—the Eastern Seaboard was lit up completely, shining in the night. I leaned my head against the glass, tears on my cheeks, proud, so proud to be an American at that moment—they had wounded us, but by the Gods, they had not extinguished our light—the nation founded on the principles of “government by the people, for the people” would not fall.

I don’t remember the first time I heard the live version of “Times Like These,” just the raw emotion of Davy Grohl’s voice transforming a nice song into a soul wrenching testimony of survival, and weeping because it was so fucking true: “it’s times like these you learn to live again; it’s times like these you give and give again; it’s times like these you learn to love again.”**

And then the morons started waving flags and chanting, “USA! USA!” on street corners. And people wonder why other countries hate us; why even our allies are disappointed in us. Could it be we allowed a functionally illiterate draft-dodging corporate failure, backed by an unethical, amoral, consciousless corporate tycoon to be the titular head of this country for eight years? Could it be that we, as a nation, have acted like a bunch of bullying, uneducated, ill-bred hooligans? Could be it be that we have forgotten our real history and instead believe in the government-censored fairytale the least-enlightened state in the Union approves of for the rest of us?*** (Christ, I wish I was making this shit up.)

That is what has made the past decade so painful for me—the destruction of the light of America. When our country was founded, it was by men profoundly influenced by the French Enlightenment and from families deeply affected by the English Civil War, not to mention the Reformation. This nation began as a commercial venture and penal colony, and when the time came and independence was earned, the law code those leaders codified was a direct reflection of it. The Constitution of the United States was a document born from a society trying to learn from history; it was never intended to be a static code that remained unchanged and unchallenged. The government established by Jefferson, Franklin, Washington, Adams… they never intended that we would have the same government over two hundred years later. They established a base for us to build on, but never expected us to fail so radically by clinging to the past and ignoring history. They did not expect us to follow the example of the monarchies of Europe.

That is where we have failed, my friends, and how we, as a nation, have dishonored our honored dead. Those who died for this country, who gave their lives willingly or unwillingly, did so to uphold the principles of the Founding Fathers. The problem is that we no longer bother to study those principles. Patriotism is not blind adherence to the government’s policy—patriotism is the belief and love of the principles that governed the founding of this nation—that we are all created equal in the eyes of the law, that we all have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, BUT that with those rights, comes RESPONSIBILITY. We have forgotten as a nation the concept of citizenship; we have become rotten, corrupt—intellectually lazy and cowardly in the face of losing our creature comforts. We have allowed cowards, liars and thieves to take control of our government, and surrendered our wills to corporations, and our partisan identity is more important to us than what is best for our country. We have allowed our elections to become nothing more than muck-raking popularity contests that have nothing to do with public service and everything to do with lining the pockets of the winners and their corporate sponsors, while we allow ourselves to be sidetracked into discussions of irrelevancies and forget we are supposed to be voting for a public servant who will serve the common good, not just our special interests.

We have pissed on the graves of the honored dead and debased ourselves in useless warmongering, destroying not only our own citizens, but decimating the populations of foreign nations under false pretenses. We, as a nation, have sunk lower than France in 1789, and are following the example of Germany in the 1930’s. The pity is that, because we have allowed our schools to become indoctrination centers, history is not studied and ANALYZED, and we as a nation live in denial. Our people are suffering, and we are causing suffering around the world with our selfishness.

I wept Sunday for all that was lost on that beautiful September day in 2001—the lives needlessly, cruelly cut short and for the death of my country. Today, I pray for all of us—that we have the courage to go beyond our self-imposed limits and embrace our responsibilities.

May the benevolent Gods bless us all and guide us to enlightenment and compassion.

*W served in the AF Reserve as a pilot; he never saw combat. He was also seen rather erratically after the Air Force began random drug testing. W is a coke addict; note the present tense usage. There were reports (reliable, sadly) that he was still snorting when he was in the White House. His behavior pretty well confirms it. As for Dick Cheney, he was quoted in Rolling Stone, when questioned as to why he didn't serve in Viet Nam, "I had better things to do." Sorry, but if you're not willing to shed your own blood for your country, don't ask anyone else to, you cowardly scum.

** Surprised to discover that "Times Like These" came out in 2003. For some reason, I associate it with 2001. Time is fluid...

*** Truth: most states use textbooks approved by the Texas Board of Education. Be afraid. Be VERY, VERY afraid when the books your children use come from a state-approved board. Ever heard of Stalin? Hitler? Mao? Yeah--they believe in state-approved text books as well. When it comes to history and learning history, you don't want to learn the party line--you want to learn all sides of the story. Because hey, wouldn't it be awesome to learn a balanced view of history? One of the best anecdotes I have to share about this--and about the fact that even American history teachers in AMERICAN schools don't know their history: I had the pleasure of seeing Neil Gaiman speak back in June at the Music Hall in Portsmouth, NH on the 10th anniversary tour for American Gods. The novel contains interludes--his way of overcoming writer's block--which are anecdotes of how the Gods crossed the ocean. One of them involves a Cornish woman named Essie Tregowan who was a tranportee (twice!). For those of you unfamiliar with American history. the colonies were not established for religious freedom and human rights, but as a commercial venture and a penal colony (much like Australia). Neil's son was 12 at that point; he came home from school and told his father that his history teacher said that Neil was a liar.

Yeah. Evidently, they're not teaching history teachers about transportees--the other side of the King's Hard Bargain (hang or be a soldier). Being transported meant you escaped the noose, but instead were condemned to a (possibly) temporary servitude. If you read A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn, you can also discover even more ugly truths about transportees and slavery. All true, sad to say, and all serious contributing factors to today's racial issues in the US (and other countries). What's even sadder is that people from other countries know more about our history than our history teachers.

"They sang another victory song..."

Two-three-four!

Tessie, 'nuff said, McGreevy shouted,

"We're not here to mess around.

Boston, you know we love ya madly

Hear the crowd roar with the sound

Don't blame us if we ever doubt ya

You know we couldn't live without ya

RED SOX! You are the only, only,

Oh, there is joy in Mudville today, my cherished blurkers. The Red Sox had their home opener against the Evil Empire (aka the NY Yankees) and kicked arse, winning 9 to 6.

Considering the bastards lived up to their old nickname of the Dead Sox (or the Hahtbreak Kids) this past week--losing SIX FUCKING GAMES, oh, boys, PLEASE! All the fans were saying prayers to the Gods of Baseball that they'd pull their bats out of their arses and swing for the Green Monstah.

OK, I realize that I have just lost almost all of my chick street cred by writing this, but, please understand that, as much as I hate professional sports (with the exception of hockey), the Red Sox are something else. They're almost a religion here, something that everyone from the sweetest little white-haired Nana to the droopy-drawered kid on the street loves.

And, by the Gods, we love our Sox. Bostonians talk about them like they're next door neighbors, either using their nicknames--Papi, Tek, Tito, Pap, YOOOOUKKK!--or their last names--Pedroia, Drew, Crawford--and always in the thick Bawstin accent. So, for Ortiz, it's pronounced "Paaahpee," fer instance. The best Sawx player's name evah rendahed in a Bawstin accent was Nomah Gahceeahparrah. We were all sad when Nomar got traded to the Cubs (and then the Sox won the Series; poor bastid), but he came back for a day to retire a Sawx.

Yes, I have dropped into my native accint. I'm tawkin' about THE SAWX!

'FNX played "Tessie" by the Dropkick Murphys this afternoon around 5. "Tessie" was released in '04, and for me, that song will always be the song of that year. I can't hear it without tearing up a little--'04 was a magical year in Boston. We reversed tha curse.

"The Curse" was the legendary (and semi-mythical) Curse of the Bambino, Babe Ruth, traded from the Sawx, leaving them to nevah win anothah series evah.

Until 2004.

Fuckin' magical, that year. To stage the greatest comeback EVAH, EVAH, EVAH INDA HISSTAREE OF BASEBALL! To come from three games down to the fuckin' Yanks in the ALC East to beat the shit out of them and win, win, WIN THE CHAMPIONSHIP! Holy mutha Mary, you nevah saw such a celebration! Fenway, Kenmore... madness on the TV.

And then... the series.

It looked almost like it was going to be a one-of-a-kind, holy-fuck-NO-ONE-can-win-this-one when the Cubs were doing really well (and then their curse kicked in, poor sonsabitches). I mean, there were a few of us going, "Shit, BOTH teams deserve it--just call the fuckin' series and give 'em both the trophies."

But then, the Cahds (excuse me, the St. Louis Cardinals) who made it from the National League. The World Series was almost anti-climactic after the ALC; I mean, we shut down and shut up the fuckin' Yanks. (Which is why, for me, I don't give a rat's ass about the rivalry any more.) But the World Series... I called my best friend Keith and just said, "How 'bout dem Sawx?" Outside there were people running up and down the street--people came out of their houses, just to share the moment, just to say, "We won!"

Some crazy bastid ran down my street (which is a main street in my city) high fiving every single person.

It was the balls. It was history. All the faith... paid off.

Our Boys did it. And we LOVED that team... Damon. Tek. Papi. Pedro. Manny. Schill.

And there wasn't a one of us long-time fans, fans that grew up here in houses full of Sawx fans, who remember being taken to a game by their father, grandfather, mother, grandmother... someone long gone, who didn't say, "I wish s/he was alive to see this." Any cemetary you visited that year, you'd find Sawx hats, pennants, something, draped on graves, because even the dead needed to know that The Hahtbreak Kids had broken our hearts again, but this time with joy.

Nike ran a commercial that year... I remember talkin to a bud at work about it, both of us had teared up because it showed a family progression over the years from 1918 to 2004, going to Fenway, sitting in the bleachiz, both of us wishin' someone had lived to see it.

That's why when they won again in 2007, we were all like, yeah, '04 was for histaree, this one is for US! Never forget Pap and Tek... that monstah hug on the mound... Magic. Just magic. Mike Lowell. Dustin Pedroia. Jacoby Ellsbury. Kevin Youklis. Papi, Big Papi. Pap dancing on the truck in a kilt with the Dropkick Murphys, and the whole city, the whole damn state, turning out to welcome them home and show 'em the love.

That's the thing... we love our Sawx. There's something special about the Red Sawx. Boston fans... we're... well, we're fanatical. Some of us are fuckin' idiots, to be honest, but most of us... the Sawx are a paht of growin up. They're a paht of life. Y'got three seasons in Bawstin--wintah, baseball, and post-season. The rest... the rest don't mattah. You'll also notice one othah thing 'bout the Sawx and the playahs we love the most--they're good guys. Decent guys. The kinda guys you'd buy a beeyah for down th'pub. The kinda guys who give back--who take their paht of their salaries and staht charities, who support people who need it. Guys who give back. (There's a reason Rogah Clemmins ain't liked in Bawstin; ditto, Manny Ramirez--they're JERKS who treated people lousy and didn't act like gentlemen. In short, they didn't act like Sawx.)

And it also don't mattah if they don't make it ta th'Series. Just so long as they play their hahts out.

(And don't give me any shit about the color of your cap means the kind of fan you are--I'm a GIRL, ASSHOLE--I LIKE PINK! and red clashes with my hair, so fuck off. *rolls eyes*)

And while normally you couldn't drag me to Fenway unless I was bound, gagged and sedated, the Cubs are coming in next month. THAT could be wikkid frickin awesome.

So, fah me, Spring has sprung. Tha Boys are back at Fenway, the bats are swingin' & crackin', and all is right with the world.

PLAY BALL!

Today's pic is the joyous hug between Jonathan Papelbon and Jason Veritek after the final out of the 2007 World Series. I still get a little choked up when I remember that moment... the young pitcher and the solid team captain, the moment of victory that was just pure, unbridled joy, a "WE DID IT!" I wish they'd made an action figure of that moment. It would be on my desk.

The Cloak of Hypocrisy

"I like your Christ; I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." - Mohandas Gandhi

Yesterday was the day to wear purple in support of those who have been lost because of bullying. I didn't wear purple because I discovered I don't have any in my wardrobe. Who knew? So I'm writing this instead and encouraging everyone to support Dan Savage's "It Gets Better" Campaign because GLBTG kids need to know that not everyone out there is a fucking hate-filled moron; that there are good people who will love them and accept them for who they are. And because the yahoos need to get the message that they need to CUT THE SHIT. Mob behavior like that is for Nazis, not intelligent human beings, and bullies... *grrrrr*

Anyway, something has been sticking in my craw over the past week, and I finally realized what it was: hypocrisy.

Yeah.

My best friend Vicki introduced to me to today's quote, and I truly love it. It's better than Gandhi's comment about Western Civilization ("I think that would be a good idea!"). I had a hard go at religion last week, and the more I think about it, the more I feel like I was too soft on the hypocrites.

See, whenever someone wants to get away with saying something that will expose their prejudices, they start their sentence with one of the two following clauses:
"I'm not prejudiced, BUT..."
"I have PLENTY of friends who are insert group here..."

Both of those bastard phrases were used at me last week. They're bullshit. You ARE prejudiced; you are being narrow-minded, you ARE WRONG, so just own it and shut the fuck up because you're embarrassing yourself in public.

Now, I have used these phrases at various times in my life. The first one has been around for a while--it's the one that really got popular when political correctness became rampant. The other one has been a phrase white people have used for a looooooong time to cover up that they are scared as hell of anyone not from their color/nationality/religion/social class/etc.

And they're both BULLSHIT.

For fuck's sake, WE ARE ALL PREJUDICED. EVERYONE--I don't care what color you are, what higher power you do or don't believe in, how much money you have, where you're from, who you sleep with--EVERY HUMAN BEING ON THIS PLANET OVER THE AGE OF 9 MONTHS IS PREJUDICED. Learning to discriminate one thing from another is one of the first things babies do--little babies KNOW who Mom is, and most of 'em know who Dad is, too. Discrimination is the beginning of the learning process, and in and of itself, is not a bad thing.

It becomes a bad thing when it's used to penalize, exclude, hurt, whatever, others.

Allow me to be concrete:

Natural, acceptable discrimination:
Example 1 - Objects: There is a blue shirt and a green shirt. I chose the green shirt because I like green better--it makes me feel warm and goes well with my coloring.
Example 2 - People: There are two people standing across the street. One is my mother; the other is a clown. I walk over and give my mother a hug because I have, through the power of discrimination, determined that she is the person known to me, and I can do this.

Learned, unacceptable discrimination:
Example 1 - Objects: There are two rare, autographed books sitting on my coffee table. One belongs to me; the other is the property of my ex. My ex's is in better condition because he is semi-illiterate and has never cracked open the book; he just got it signed for the ebay potential. I keep the pristine copy and sell the crappier one and keep the money. (Yeah, I know, I'm reaching here; give me a break.)
Example 2 - People: Person A belongs to a group I find unacceptable for irrational reasons (color of skin, religion, sexual orientation). I take steps to curtail their Constitutional rights.

Now, I've been labeled a liberal by many (and sometimes, I'll own it myself), but I'm not, really. I'm not really even a Democrat. I'm a Rational Anarchist. What does that mean? It means that I hate rules, but at the same time, I understand the need for some of them. In short, it means I believe in common sense, something that just doesn't seem to exist these days in great supply.

How does that translate? Well, it means that I think you should use things like turn signals and observe speed limits in populated areas. It means I think you should stop and think before you open your mouth. It means I think you have a right to believe in what you believe in, but you don't have a right to force it on anyone else. You've a right to your opinion (though no right to being taken seriously).

It also means that I think you have a responsibility to the world around you and to yourself. It means that you have to take responsibility for your thoughts and actions and behavior. It means that if you say stupid shit to me and expect me to back down because you've taken something seriously that wasn't meant that way, you need your head examined.

I work in Political Correctness Central--I work in a university in Cambridge, MA, a place where we have tissues, not issues. A place where I learned to hate feminism even more than I already did because of the way a great idea was bastardized and destroyed by a bunch of hypocritical women who suffered from bad cases of denial, ignorance, and white guilt, and who had extensive educations to give them words to hide behind. And I have seen what happens when a minority gets uncontrolled power and how corrupt it can be--I saw a number of good people lose their jobs because they were the wrong gender or orientation, so NO ONE is innocent. Israel is a good example of this--they learned Hitler's lesson from the Holocaust really well and have nothing to be proud of. (And before you call me an anti-Semite, note I said "Israel," NOT Jews--my ex-husband was Jewish, and I experienced anti-Semitism up close and personal as it was assumed I was as well. My point is that every human being is capable of being an oppressor if they do not maintain awareness of their fears and remembers to THINK FOR THEMSELVES.)

Political correctness started out as a good idea--watch the hate language, think about what you say--but quickly devolved into just another bastard form of racism. Sorry, kids, but if you're saying "African American," but still thinking the n-bomb (I really DON'T use that word--I'll say "cunt" without thinking, but only use the n-bomb when I'm talking about my own people), you're really not doing anyone any favors.

Political correctness--or, as I like to call it, intellectual Naziism--has forced prejudices underground and prevented people from speaking freely. It's created more prejudice and problems than any hate speech ever did. And while I don't think using racial/social/sexual slurs is appropriate or acceptable, I'd rather hear someone come out and say it than get that sidelong lying look on their face, and say, "Well, I'm not prejudice, BUT those people..."

As for claiming to have friends who are from the group you are discriminating against... tell me, if that person is your friend, why won't you grant them the same rights you enjoy? What is the difference between denying a gay person the right to marry and racial segregation? You are telling another human being that, because of a condition beyond their control--a PHYSICAL difference from you--they aren't good enough to be treated like a full citizen. There's no logic to it, there's no rational reason to it--it's a decision based purely in prejudice, and you should be ashamed of yourself.

Now, I am NOT claiming innocence here. I learned almost every racial slur I know at home, most of them from my grandfather. My mom, however, had friends from all walks of life--she had friends across the spectrum and taught me from the beginning the necessity of tolerance and acceptance. However... we ARE Boston Irish, and a more exclusionary, isolationist, racist group of white people are pretty damned hard to find. Mum didn't escape all of her conditioning; neither did I. That is not a justificiation of wrong-doing--it's a statement of fact. The other side of that statement is that, since becoming an adult, I have done my best to be aware of my prejudices and NOT act on them--to rise above bigotry and stupidity and be the person I think I should be, not the person I was taught to be.

I don't always succeed; that's not possible. I'm not perfect. The positive thing that's come out of it is a driving need to understand hatred--fear is the base of it all: fear of the Other, fear of what is different, fear of what we've been taught is WRONG. And the fear we feel when we recognize what we dislike or distrust in the Other in ourselves--human denial. That's at the very bottom level of homophobia, especially in men in this society. We teach our boys to fear anything soft inside themselves, to be as "masculine" (whatever the fuck that means; I still don't get the false concept of feminity so many people try to shove on girls), and that to feel anything tender towards another man is BAD, never mind any kind of attraction.

It's stupid, dangerous, and it's costing lives, and bringing out the very worst in people, and I am bloody fucking sick of it. Listen to a child cry because they've been told, "you can't be gay and live in my house." Watch the face of a beautiful young man you know twist as he fights between accepting who he is and the shame that's been put on him by his family. Hear the bitterness in a friend's voice when they tell you how their parents no longer speak to them because they came out... then tell me your prejudice is correct. Don't be surprised if I spit in your face. I am tired of seeing these beloved children and friends hurting because of the ignorance and fear in others. GROW UP AND GET THE FUCK OVER IT!

Claiming to not be prejudiced--in the case last week, homophobic--and then trying to limit the civil rights of a group of people because of your religion is an act of homophobia. Sorry, it is. Claiming you can't be seen as homophobic because you have gay friends and love them is also bullshit--if you love them, why won't you grant them the same civil rights as you enjoy? It's already been proven that sexual orientation is not a choice--it's hardwired in the brain. If our society wasn't so twisted up about sex and so stupidly uptight and obsessed with it, this might not be a problem, but because the rules the religions operate on were created by human beings (and some really FUCKED UP human beings; this is where being a historian with a fair grounding in psychology comes in handy--human denial of humanity and sheer hypocrisy in the religions have caused more pain and agony than anything on the planet. I give away no secrets here).

As I stated last week, I'm not asking the various churches and religions to sanction homosexuality and perform same-sex marriages if it really does go against their beliefs, but don't tell me you're a Christian and a follower of Christ if you hold to that because you're not--Christ NEVER came out against homosexuality--NEVER--and hey, when you hang out and travel with twelve other men, it would be a bit hypocritical, eh? Especially if you believe the expurgated version of the Jesus story that would have you believe him unmarried. Thirteen normal men, traveling around together, sleeping together... *stands back and warms self at the fire I have just thrown gasoline on*

See, sex isn't a sin. It's not--it's a part of being human. It's natural, it's normal. All the rules that we've put around it? Bullshit, honestly. Just social crap that's been forced down our throats. It's the prejudices and fears that others have developed and passed down that have become ingrained. I'm a historian--I've researched it. Want to know when the Church came out seriously against homosexuality? Happened after the Plague, when too many of the men in Italy (I think it was Venice, but I might be wrong--it's been a few years since that class) were spending too much time in the brothels which were staffed by both male and female artists (and if anyone knows how to prevent or disable a pregnancy, it's a professional who can't be out of action to make a living) and not enough on rebuilding the population.

The government of the city-state cooperated in this because they needed bodies for the army because they were always waging war back then. There was no real separation of Church and state--you bowed to the Pope or you were excommunicated. It took Martin Luther's 95 Theses and Henry VIII's dick before Europe found its backbone.

Outlawing prostitution made sense up until the later half of the 20th century when reliable birth control and disease prevention became a reality, and crime statistics have proven that legalized prostitution cuts down the sex crimes. Now? Now, it's just old prejudices and fear keeping women in a place of powerlessness and poverty.

Abortion is another issue that drives me up the wall. I would love to see the need for abortion to disappear--for a universally effective and universally available means of birth control (aside from abstinence because, after the age of 18, it's bullshit and a denial of humanity) to become available, for that to happen it would mean that universal, common sense-based sex education would need to happen. You know, the kind that involves information: this is what sex is, this is what happens, these are the possible consequences, these are the REAL odds, with no fear, no paranoia, just INFORMATION and treating kids like they're intelligent human beings capable of making sensible decisions for themselves. I don't think kids should be having sex before 18; high school is complicated enough without throwing fucking into the mix. I lost my virginity to date rape at 16, and I was stupid enough to want to prove to myself that it didn't hurt me, and I was fine. Sex can wait, but the only way a kid can make that decision is to be given clear, simple information without all the bullshit.

Think I'm wrong on that one? Allow me to share: when she was about 14, myself and my friend Keith took my niece, Sammi (who is now 21 and utterly fabulous), out for coffee. We got on the topic of substances and substance abuse. I was honest with her that yes, I drink at times and occasionally smoke weed; however, I also made it clear that I smoked for the first time when I was in my 20's and already knew my limits, and that I never did it unless I knew I wasn't driving and I was in a safe place with people I trusted. Also made it clear that I didn't touch any other substances. At which point, Keith and I started telling her stories about people we'd known who'd done all of that crap and what happened to them.

Sam sat back, looked at the two of us and said, "If my parents had put it like that, it would have totally made sense! They just said, 'DON'T DO IT,' but didn't tell me why!"

Now, to be fair, this is what she remembered them telling her. Also, I am NOT her mother--I have a remove and a freedom her with her that her mother doesn't because of the role she has to play in her life, so this is not a criticism of her parenting style. I have the Aunt's Advantage--I could send Sam home and didn't have to live with her. ;-) I didn't ask for the other side because she got the message we were trying to get across to her: keep clean until you're of age because substances can really fuck you up if you don't know your limits and don't play safe. By being honest and up front and giving concrete reasons and examples, by respecting her intelligence and ability to make a good decision--in short, by treating her with the same respect we expected from her--we were able to give guidance rather than creating a climate of fear (and the rebellious curiosity that comes out of it).

By not framing it as "sin" or "wrong," but as a part of life and a choice she had the power to make, Sam was given power over her own fate.

"Love the sinner; hate the sin" was quoted at me last week. The problem is what some people consider "sin," I don't. A "sin" involves deliberately causing harm to yourself or another. It involves intention and action. It isn't about how you think, so long as you're aware of destructive thought patterns. Sin... sin is a human concept, like "god" and "religion" and "beliefs." We created it to keep people in line to prevent them from hurting each other and make it possible to live side by side. The common sense rules about not murdering, not stealing, not cheating--they make sense. The other crap--about honoring a god and parental figures--not so much. Those rules are about submission--control. "Do what I tell you to, OR ELSE!" Bastard rules, the kind you give a small child when they're misbehaving. (And sometimes, absolutely necessary--there comes a point when an authority figure does have a right to say, "Because I say so!" but it needs to be used lightly and carefully or it just becomes an arbitrary attempt at controlling another human being for your own pleasure. It's all about balance.)

Trying to control how another person behaves or thinks--trying to force them into conformity--is an admission of your own powerlessness and fear. It's an admission of your own inadequacy and ignorance.

So, as I've said before, I don't give a rat's ragged ass if you think the same way I do. I'd prefer that you're intelligent enough and mature enough to think through your prejudices and reason out whether or not you're doing right by others by trying to control them and prevent them from enjoying the same rights you do.

And if what I'm saying is making you angry--if it's making you feel defensive, or hatred towards me... go back and read what I wrote above about that reaction. You're letting your fear rule you. It's not me you hate ; it's the dark places and doubts inside yourself that you aren't ready to accept. What you hate me for is pointing them out to you.

Judge me as you will, but don't be surprised if I throw it back in your face. I am who I am--flaws and fabulousness, brilliance and stupidity, arrogance and wisdom. I know what I've done in this life and who I've done it with or done it to. I know what I am willing to do, and what I am not. I have a strict code of ethics and honor--not morals. I don't love everyone in this world; there are a fair few people I hate with a passion and would gladly carve out their hearts with a spoon. But then, I'm not a Christian. I'm just a human being. My Higher Power is a sensible one who accepts me for myself and only demands that I do my best and make amends when I wrong and take my laurels when I excel; and also, that I try to accept others for who they are; that I take right action, not act on my desires and self-gratification alone.

In short, like every other god, created in my own idealized image.

BTW, today's pic is of a magnet offered by Northern Sun, a progressive accessory company. Pop over to www.northernsun.com for awesome shirts, magnets, buttons, stickers and other cool stuff that let the world know you've got a brain and aren't afraid to use it.