Help! I Can't Finish This Book

I'm stuck. I'm trying to read Robin Lane Fox's The Unauthorized Version: Truth and Fiction in the Bible, but I'm on page 165 and don't think I can go any further.

I really like biblical history; that, to be clear, is not so much history as portrayed by the Bible, but rather the history of the writings themselves -- who wrote it, when, where, why and for whom. It's not going to be everyone's cup of tea; a lot of people just aren't going to be open to the suggestion that Deuteronomy not only wasn't written by Moses, but was composed at the conclusion of the Babylonian exile by Jews returning to Jerusalem seeking to codify and re-establish temple practices and culture that had withered in captivity. See, I find that stuff fascinating.

This book is full of interesting information but there are two huge flaws: structure and style.

The chapters seem out of sequence. Presently I'm stranded in a chapter that seeks to define agreed-upon standards for what constitutes an ancient "historian." I can't help but feel that this probably belongs at the beginning of the book, and, at fourteen pages, is at least nine pages too long. There does seem to be a vague arc; the first chapter talks about the two separate creation traditions that got spliced together in Genesis, and most of the stuff relating to the New Testament is clumped together at the back. But it feels haphazard, and what comes in between does not have a sense of flow or development.

And, oh...the prose. Dull does not begin to cover it. Mr. Fox just has no voice. It's an effort just to turn the page.

There's stuff toward the back I'm interested in, but I feel like what I'm reading now is supposed to be laying the groundwork for what I'm to take away in ensuing pages. I'm tempted, however, to regard it more like an encyclopedia and just skip to what interests me. I'm also tempted just to put it back on the shelf.

Happy Belated Blogoversary To Me

Oopsie. Missed my own blogoversary, which was September 19. (Thanks, Assisi, for the generous reminder!!!)

The truth is, I'm kind of depressed.

I have a good job, but it's not really a fit. I can't really call it boring, because the pace is frantic and I spend most of my time lurching from crisis to crisis. But not huge, important, world-saving crises, like protecting endangered species. When I get home I am exhausted. I'm good at my job, but it doesn't really play to my talents or passions.

Now, I knew it would be like this going into it. I never thought that my calling in life was to be a corporate tax admin. My circumstances are what they are, and I have to pay the bills, and this is the most money I can make given my skills and experience. So, there it is. Nonetheless, it's kind of a drag sometimes. I don't blog as much because I'm just uninspired; I feel like my creative, analytical brain is atrophying, like a houseplant in a room with bad light.

My social life isn't quite what I'd hoped for, either.

It's not all bad news, though.

Since May I have been working with Integrity and the Episcopal Diocese of Oregon to develop an outreach program on LGBT faith issues, and last Thursday was the project's first outing. I thought about advertising it on the blog, but then I panicked and thought, "Oh...what if it turns out I'm terrible at this?" So I didn't.

The program features a licensed screening of the 2007 documentary For the Bible Tells Me So, followed by a moderated dialogue on homosexuality and the church (hosted by yours truly), and our first event was held at St. John the Evangelist in Milwaukie, Oregon. We had about 25 people show up, and it was a wonderful experience.

To be honest, it was a little bit like preaching to the choir, or at least the parents of the choir; no one was hostile or unreceptive to the issue. I heard some incredible and moving stories; there were elderly parents of a gay man there and they recognized their own journey of reconciliation in the film, and a man whose son had married a woman who turned out to be a lesbian. Another woman shared that she had a transgender brother. The vast majority of attendees were heterosexual.

I left feeling excited and inspired. When I come home from work, I feel literally physically heavy, like I have lead in my blood, but on that night I felt alive. I need to do more of this. Fortunately, I have at least two more "gigs" on the line, one in Monmouth, Oregon at the end of October and another at my own parish, date TBD. (Note to self: talk to rector today!) I need to try to get more opportunities like this, and maybe someday I can even branch out of the Episcopal Church to face a more skeptical audience.

Why I Don't Like Sarah Palin, Continued

She's totally Christy Masters from Romy & Michele's High School Reunion.

Andy Declares War on Sarah Palin

BREAKING NEWS: A personal friend of Governor Palin's revealed to ABC news this horrifying secret: "She doesn't care for cats."

A spokesperson for Rocky and Starbuck this morning responded, "The feeling is entirely mutual."

Earmarks vs Pork

One of the strangest themes of John McCain's campaign is his crusade against earmarks.

Congress exists to write and pass laws, yes. But another important job is to take taxpayers' money and divvy it up in appropriate ways, to determine how this money can most effectively be spent. We voters send our representatives and senators to Congress to fight for our piece of that pie. This is how Congress works; this is how Congress was intended to work. Specifically, "under Article I, Section 8 of the U.S. Constitution, Congress has the power to direct appropriations of money drawn from the national treasury. This includes the power to "earmark" funds it appropriates to specifically designated projects."

An "earmark" is just a piece of tax pie that Congress decides will be set aside for a particular program or project. Earmarks help fund all manner of projects, from public transportation to education and research. The Iraq Study Group was funded through earmarks. Earmarks can also be used for the national infrastructure like, oh, I don't know, let's say...umm...levees in New Orleans and, um, bridges in Minneapolis. Not incidentally, all of our aid to Israel is earmarked. Is John McCain really opposing aid for Israel?

Now, let's be honest: Congress is not infallible. Sometimes they screw up. Sometimes they want to fund projects for political purposes that will cost the taxpayers more than they will yield in public benefit; that's not an earmark, that's pork.

In the second part of her interview with ABC's Charles Gibson that will air tonight, Governor Palin will say this: "And it's not inappropriate for a mayor or for a governor to request and to work with their Congress and their congressmen, their congresswomen, to plug into the federal budget along with every other state a share of the federal budget for infrastructure."

That's right. That is one of the main responsibilities of Congress. No argument from me.

But this statement comes in response to a reasonable question about her repeated claim to have "told Congress thanks, but no thanks, on that Bridge to Nowhere."

The plain fact of the matter is that Congress stripped the earmark of funds for the bridge in November 2005.

Sarah Palin did not become Governor of Alaska until 2007.

In fact, as she campaigned in late 2006, she expressed support for the bridge.

The first time Sarah Palin told Congress "thanks, but no thanks," was at the Republican National Convention in August 2008, almost three years after the bridge became a national laughingstock.

That's not change you can believe in.
But wait, this gets better. Recently McCain and Palin accused Barack Obama of requesting "nearly $1 billion" in earmarks for the state of Illinois. But Obama has requested no earmarks for 2008, and in 2007 only $311 million, which works out to $25 per Illinois resident.

This year, Sarah Palin asked Congress for $198 million in earmarks. That's $295 per Alaska citizen. In 2007, she requested $256 million. While she was mayor of the tiny town of Wasilla, she hired a Jack Abramoff-affiliated lobbyist and secured "14 earmarks totaling $27 million."

Here are some sterling examples of recent Alaska "earmarks."

Unorthodox

Tomorrow I am attending the bar-mitzvah of the autistic son of two gay men, one Jewish, one Episcopalian, being held at a Presbyterian church.

Is it too much to hope for kugel at the reception?

Why Sarah Palin's Family is Fair Game

"I have said before and I will repeat again: People's families are off limits," Democratic presidential nominee Barack Obama said on Tuesday. "And people's children are especially off-limits. This shouldn't be part of our politics. It has no relevance to Governor Palin's performance as a governor or her potential performance as a vice president. So I would strongly urge people to back off these kinds of stories. You know my mother had me when she was 18 and how a family deals with issues and teenage children, that shouldn’t be a topic of our politics."

Noble words, with which I'd happily be first to concur. But no...not until I hear the same principled stance from Republican activists who have made discrimination and fear-mongering a rallying cry and make people like me political props in their campaign of distraction.

The 2008 Republican Party Platform explicitly calls for writing discrimination into the Constitution, seeking both to deny same-sex couples the right to marry and to deprive the courts of their proper role in protecting the civil rights of all citizens from the tyranny of the (shrinking) majority.

Their defense of "traditional" marriage is lined with all the discredited tropes of the waning anti-gay movement. They insist that restricting marriage to heterosexual couples protects "our children's future," although the government neither requires nor recognizes procreative intent or capability as a characteristic of civil marriage. The platform paints a disparaging view of children who grow up "in homes without fathers," while failing to note that the research they cite exclusively refers to the children of heterosexual mothers whose fathers chose not to live up to their responsibilities, not the children of committed same-sex partners. We are meant to ignore that some children of single-parent households turn out just fine (see Obama, Barack) and others have two fathers.

You see, according to Republicans like Sarah Palin, a family like this one is a better place for children than this one. The belief that any pairing of married heterosexual parents provides a stabler, healthier home than any same-sex couple could possibly offer is just not born out by any sort of evidence, at all.

Never mind their foreign policy disasters or the tanking economy -- look out! Here come Ellen DeGeneres and Portia de Rossi! Give me a break.

This is not a trivial issue. Palin and her ilk have literally campaigned on the promise to protect America from gay bogeymen (and women). Sure, in an ideal world, Bristol Palin and her circumstances would be irrelevant. They should be. And so should the private lives of millions of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender Americans, taxpaying, hard-working citizens. But when the RNC uses us to scare up voters, I refuse to sit idly by and not point out the egregious hypocrisy of people like Sarah Palin.

So Bristol Palin is 17, pregnant, and scheduled to marry the teenage father. Now, who knows? Maybe these two are genuinely in love and will live a happy, committed life together. It's entirely possible. My grandmother was pregnant (turns out, with someone else's child, my father) when she married her husband, and they're still married 65 years later and raised three kids, two of whom are divorced. But the research shows that pregnant brides are 50% more likely to get divorced, and that's factoring in a heterosexual divorce rate that isn't anything to be proud of.

Here's why Sarah Palin's family matters. You won't find anyone to argue that Bristol was being responsible by getting pregnant while unmarried and still in high school, even if they now assert she's doing the right thing by marrying the charming father. Though McCain aides may protest that the "liberal media" is smearing Palin's family, it was the GOP that first trotted out the Palins as a model to be emulated.

If you agree with Barack Obama that this subject should be off-limits, then you're at odds with James Dobson, whose activist organization Focus on the Family -- note the name -- is at least as political as it is religious. Here's his statement on the Bristol Palin situation.

Now, let's reflect back on his comments regarding the daughter of a sitting vice president who got pregnant outside the bonds of civil marriage.

Seventeen year-old Bristol Palin is about to marry a fellow teenager; they will have full government recognition and protection for a relationship that is, let's face it, a last-ditch attempt to make right a stupid mistake made in a brief moment of passion. Sarah Palin thinks this is just great. Yet compare that to Mary Cheney, who had been in a committed relationship with her partner for 15 years when they made the conscious decision to raise a child. (They're now at 17 years together, 6 years past the average heterosexual marriage duration of 11 years.) Sarah Palin thinks that Mary and Heather deserve no recognition or protection; Mary is the biological mother, so in the unfortunate event of her death, Sarah insists that Heather has no claim to the child. Sarah thinks Heather should not have been allowed to be present in the hospital for the birth, nor should she be allowed to be with Mary in the hospital under any circumstances. The couple, according to Palin, is not entitled to any insurance, inheritance or social security benefits.

Sarah Palin is receiving heaps of praise for supporting her teenage daughter's decision to have a child before she even completes high school and to marry another student who openly boasted on his MySpace profile that he doesn't want kids while simultaneously insisting that Del Martin and Phyllis Lyon, who had been in a committed relationship longer than Sarah has been alive, deserve no protection or recognition.

John McCain, Sarah Palin's running mate, cheated during his first marriage which ended in divorce.

Gay folk get scapegoated for the political gain and moral failures of uninformed ideologues like Sarah Palin, John McCain, Rudy Giuliani, and David Vitter. I will heed Barack Obama's call to leave her family alone just as soon as she stops blaming me for everything that is wrong with heterosexual marriage.

Republican, heal thyself.

The Straight Talk Express

PBS Gets Catty

I set the DVR to record the Republican National Convention. Of course, the program has been adjusted in light of Hurricane Gustav.

The first hour was replaced by Antiques Roadshow.

Andy for GOP Secretary of State

If John McCain wins in November, I think based on my extensive foreign policy experience that he should definitely consider me for Secretary of State.

First off, I was born in the State of Washington, which is on the border with Canada, and I have even visited Victoria. I grew up in Oregon, which is right across the water from Korea, which means that I am familiar with the threat posed by Kim Jong Il. After a year in Los Angeles (which is close to Mexico), I spent nearly fourteen years in Manhattan, which, as everyone knows, is the home of the United Nations.

In high school I traveled as an exchange student to Japan, which is close to China. I also visited Hawaii, which has only been a state since 1959 and so barely counts as the U.S., which is why Barack Obama is only kinda-sorta an American. From 2000-2001 I lived for 10.5 months in Zurich, Switzerland, which is a real diplomaticky sort of place, and I spent a major percentage of my time there as an ambassador for our nation, explaining to the citizens of "Old Europe" why it was that the candidate who received fewer popular votes was actually the rightful winner of the election and assuring them that, despite what they had heard about George W. Bush, everything would be fine. "What's he going to do," I asked them. "Start a war?"

During this time I also sang for the Mayor of Zurich and the President of Switzerland. I have met hundreds, if not thousands, of queens.

In addition to Switzerland, Canada, Japan and the Kingdom of Hawaii, I have also traveled to Mexico, the United Kingdom, Germany, France and Italy. While in London, I saw Buckingham Palace. I speak fluent English, conversational German, passable Italian and can read French. Perhaps more importantly for present times, I have sung in Russian, Spanish and Hebrew. I also took three years of Japanese in high school, and once slept with the son of a Brazilian diplomat. (Okay, twice.) Oh! and a friend of mine is married to woman from Zimbabwe.

I have never been to Washington, D.C., but this just means that I would confirm McCain's outside-the-beltway-box thinking and his maverickyness.

Though I admit I have never served on the PTA, my stepfather was a teacher. I was elected to the Vestry in January of 2008, which means I have held elected office longer than Barack Obama has been the Democratic nominee.

Given the depth and range of my foreign policy experiences, I believe I would make an outstanding Republican Secretary of State. Oh, and as for the vetting process, I assure you that Rocky and Starbuck are up to date on licenses and vaccinations. Thank you.

*******

PS, on an unrelated note, prayers for the people of New Orleans.

A Bold Prediction

Sarah Palin will not be on the ballot in November. She may well withdraw from the ticket by the end of the week.

Feminism's Big Leap

Senator John McCain and Governor Sarah Palin just advanced the cause of women's rights further than Hillary Clinton ever could have, even if she'd won the Democratic nomination. How? By unintentionally making gender irrelevant.

The selection of Governor Palin was an obvious play for the so-called "disaffected Hillary vote," which I believe is a politically insignificant bloc. The proudly defiant Hillary holdouts tout her 18 million primary votes as evidence of a deeply divided Democratic party, yet Barack Obama was made the nominee by unanimous acclamation, at the behest of Senator Clinton herself. Yes, Hillary came in a very close second and she has many passionate supporters, but the rumors of a sundered party have been greatly exaggerated by a media that seems to prefer that narrative to the one that plainly unfolded in front of them. (Or, behind them; how maddening to see the cable news talking heads bloviating and arguing with each other, flat-out ignoring the actual convention and, in one salient case, failing to air one of the best speeches of the week. Note to Keith Olbermann: I feel I need to see other people for a while. I will not watch your coverage of the GOP convention and will instead go back to PBS.) The media went chasing after Hillary supporters trying to keep their storyline alive, but failed to locate one single prominent Democrat or even any significant gathering of dissidents; when the PUMA's retire Hillary's debt or can get 75,000 people into a stadium, maybe I'll reconsider.

John McCain and Karl Rove may think they're picking up a crucial swing vote of angry feminists, but really they are only courting sexist women. The triumph of feminism will not be the first woman president, but rather the first election when we stop falling all over ourselves to discuss whether gender has any relevance to a person's qualifications for the job.

That seems to be where the Hillary die-hards went wrong; it's fine to prefer Hillary to Barack, but over on sites like No Quarter, you don't hear wonky discussions of the minute policy differences between the two; you hear gripes about the way Hillary was treated by the party that boasts the first female Speaker of the House and six women governors and, of course, baseless, frenzied slander about Michelle Obama's alleged secret radical agenda.

Awash in righteous umbrage over the Democratic Party's alleged machinations to deprive Senator Clinton of the nomination, they vow to teach the Dems a lesson by realigning themselves with John McCain, promptly misrepresenting his position on reproductive freedom in the process. But what is the lesson and who's getting schooled? Do they aim to teach us that gender trumps policy, competence and integrity? And do they propose to do that by electing a president who opposes equal pay for women? Are we seriously to believe that this is some kind of principled stance?

Enter Governor Palin, who by virtue of her gender has, instead of becoming a coup for the GOP ticket, completely neutralized the debate. Supporters of Hillary Clinton, who were understandably disappointed by the primary, now have another chance to put a woman into the White House. But should they?

Surely the media will hype this as a "dilemma" for women, just as they openly pondered just a few months ago whether black women would support Barack or Hillary, a blatantly sexist and racist question that reduced these voters to identity politics and glossed over the possibility that they might actually be considering the candidates on their respective merits. But it's not a dilemma, it's an opportunity.

"Were you in this campaign just for me?" asked Senator Clinton of her supporters this past week. Now with Sarah Palin on the ballot, Clinton voters have to accept Hillary's challenge to answer that question in a thoughtful manner. Because you could vote for McCain - Palin and have our nation's first woman vice president, but in order to do so, you'd have to support a litany of policies that are in direct opposition to everything Hillary Clinton believes and has worked so hard to achieve.

Inspirational

While listening to Senator Harry Reid, I suddenly realized I had not cleaned the litter box today.

A Home Run for Hillary

I think there's small chance Barack's speech will be anywhere near as good as Hillary's. Well done. No way, no how, no McCain. Sweet!

Knock, Knock

Hey did you hear the one about John McCain and his seven homes?

Come on, Democrats. You're all taking the same cheap shot. Don't any of you have anything of substance to say?

(And wow, I am really glad right now Obama didn't pick Sebelius as Veep. BO-ring. And yet, positively riveting compared to last night's appearance by Pelosi.)

I Have a Sinking Feeling About This

This show on Discovery about whether Noah's Ark and the flood were real is absolutely terrible.

Missing You

Almighty and everlasting God, who gave to your apostle Bartholomew grace truly to believe and to preach your Word: Grant that your Church may love what he believed and preach what he taught; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

I've been rather melancholy all day, perhaps because it's the Feast of St. Bartholomew, and my thoughts have wandered to my old parish by that name back in New York City. I definitely feel that I was "led" to where I am now in Portland, but St. Bart's will always be a very special place for me, and I miss the beautiful building, the amazing clergy and my many friends. And, oh yes, I miss the choir, and the seamless liturgy. St. John the Baptist is earnest and sincere and wonderful, but I always have the sense that we're still rehearsing.

An Andy Classic

I Google-searched my archives today to take a look back at anything I might have written about Joe Biden (which turned out to be not very much). I did, however, unearth this classic bit of snark:

"Bush Declines Katrina Request, Citing Security"

The Crucial Geek Vote?

Umm...why is Gordon Smith advertising during Stargate Atlantis on the SciFi channel?

When You Wish Upon a Star...

Please...please just don't let it be Evan Bayh.

The Power of Opera

A while back a co-worker told me that while driving around in the car scanning radio stations, she inadvertently landed on the classical channel. “What is that?” her four year old daughter wanted to know. “Oh, that’s opera,” she said, skipping onward. “No, no, turn it back!” the little girl demanded. So they listened to opera in the car.

When they got home, the girl made her try to find more opera on the radio.

I thought this was a nice story, so when I got home I created a CD that I called “Opera for Princesses” – mostly a hit parade of soprano arias – that I thought a four year old might enjoy. (Mind you, I have high expectations of four year olds.)

Here’s the playlist:

1. “O mio babbino caro,” Gianni Schicchi, by Giacomo Puccini (Renata Tebaldi)
2. “Viens, Mallika” (‘Flower Duet’), Lakmé, by Leo Delibes (Mady Mesplé & Danielle Millet)
3. “Sempre libera,” La Traviata, by Giuseppe Verdi (Renata Scotto)
4. “Habañera,” Carmen, by Georges Bizet (Tatiana Troyanos)
5. “Mesicku na nebi hlubokem,” Rusalka, by Antonin Dvorak (Gabriela Benackova)
6. “Quando m’en vo,” La Bohème, by Giacomo Puccini (Kiri te Kanawa)
7. “Mi chiamano Mimi,” La Bohème, by Giacomo Puccini (Angela Gheorghiu)
8. “Der Hölle Rache,” Die Zauberflöte, by W. A. Mozart (Edda Moser)
9. “Vissi d’arte,” Tosca, by Giacomo Puccini (Maria Callas)
10. “Je veux vivre,” Roméo et Juliette, by Charles Gounod (Ruth Ann Swenson)
11. “Caro nome,” Rigoletto, by Giuseppe Verdi (Daniela Lojarro*)
12. “Liebestod,” Tristan und Isolde, by Richard Wagner (Hildegard Behrens)
13. “D’Oreste, d’Ajace,” Idomeneo, by W. A. Mozart (Carol Vaness)
14. “Un bel di,” Madama Butterfly, by Giacomo Puccini (Mirella Freni)
15. “Glitter and be Gay,” Candide, by Leonard Bernstein (Dawn Upshaw)
16. “Non più mesta,” La Cenerentola, by Gioachino Rossini (Cecilia Bartoli)

So, yeah, not all the subject material here is appropriate for preschool-age children, I’ll grant you that, and it’s possibly not the most diverse range of music I could have come up with, but I was aiming for things that were tuneful yet also conveyed a sense of drama without needing context. I also imagined the girl, some years from now, listening to a commercial or seeing a movie and thinking, “Hey…I know that!” (We can debate my choice of singers…but I stand by them.)

I ran into the co-worker again today, who had an update for me. Apparently the little girl listens to the CD every night. Last night they went to check on her, and she was crying.

“What’s wrong?” her mom wanted to know.

“This song makes me sad,” the girl replied.

Score.

* Y’all probably have never heard of Daniela Lojarro, and I haven’t really, either. It’s from one of those budget LaserLight CD’s, but it’s the most amazing recording of “Caro nome,” if you can find it. She takes the high E-natural at the end, floats it effortlessly and manages a flawless diminuendo into nothingness.

Well, That Answers That

I've mentioned before that my father and I shy away from any kind of substantive discussions, especially about religion. (Brief summary for the uninitiated: he's a born-again Baptist and I'm a gay Episcopalian.)

Years ago he filled my head with all kinds of nonsense about Revelation and Biblical "prophecy" and "the Rapture" and whatnot, and only recently did I find the courage to look again at the marvelous last book of the New Testament and begin to explore what's really there. Some of my father's views have moderated a bit over time (he has stopped inquiring about my dress size and plans on voting for Obama this fall -- mostly because he has come to see that Iraq was a boondoggle of criminal dimension), but I've often wondered if he still held the same views about "the Antichrist" and all that.

Presently, he is on a solo bike tour of Oregon; he called me from a campground about 30 miles from Chemult (where?) to check in and let me know he's all right.

"Did we invade Russia, yet?" he asked.

"No, no, we're still talking that over," I said. Then, perhaps rather stupidly, I said, "Besides, everyone knows that Iran is next."

"I was kind of hoping Israel would take out Iran," said my father.

"Hmm...I'm not sure that's something we should really be hoping for."

"Well, it would mean that Christ's return is imminent, that's for sure."

Sigh.

No, Wait; Second Worst Vacation Ever

It occurred to me that the worst vacation I ever took was a trip to Victoria, B.C., with my father when I was 16, in a risky attempt to repair our relationship after I came out. He asked me, "So...am I supposed to start buying you dresses for your birthday?"

I didn't speak to him for about a year and a half after that.

Worst. Vacation. Ever.

So it turned out that the only thing I took with me on my fabulous August beach trip that proved to be even less useful than the condoms (hey...you never know!) was sunscreen.

It's been a busy, stressful summer and I haven't taken any time off, so I've been dying for a little "me" time to go hide somewhere and decompress. After church on Sunday, I drove out to Waldport, eager for some long walks on the beach and quiet time in prayer and meditation.

Okay, well...first, it immediately became apparent why the Howard Johnson had vacancies in mid-August. As Elizabeth Taylor said in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, "What a dump." Don't get me wrong: I wasn't expecting the Four Seasons, but wow, that place is long overdue for some fresh paint and some general maintenance. It might not kill them to pick up the trash in the grassy area between the hotel and the bay or clean the leaves out of the pool, either...not that it was warm or dry enough to go in the pool. Ahem.

I mean, sure, the room was clean. And by clean, I mean, it had this overpoweringly chemical "clean" smell that gave me a headache and made me sick to my stomach. Fortunately I had a sliding door with a screen...that opened up onto the "pet area." Watch where you step.

About 5 minutes after I arrived, fog as thick as pea soup rolled in and you couldn't even see across the street. I had planned on driving down to a decent restaurant in Yachats (there's not much in Waldport), but I looked at the fog and figured maybe I should stay local. I thought I would investigate the "Ahi Grill" on site at the hotel.

You can't really see what the restaurant looks like from the lobby; you have to go down a hall and around a corner and bang you're suddenly in the dining room, which is about the most depressing little excuse for a "restaurant" I've ever seen. But the waitress pounced and said, "One for dinner?" and I just didn't have the heart to say, "Oh, dear God, no," so instead I said, "Yes, please," with a sinking feeling in my gut. Ahi might be Hawaiian for tuna, but it's also Italian for "ouch."

The menu was depressingly limited; I had settled on the fettuccine alfredo with chicken, but just then the same dish was brought to the woman sitting at the table next to me, and it was far more food than I could possibly eat (and didn't look that great) so when the waitress came I asked for a burger and fries. ($6.95)

So, look, I just wanted to have a quiet dinner alone staring at the bay. Some people might find that depressing, I guess, but I think it's relaxing. Unfortunately, the tourists on either side of me had other ideas; they were the types that like to chat up strangers.

First they remarked on the weather, a reasonable enough starting point, and complained that it was 60, dark and rainy in the middle of August. (Hey, welcome to Oregon; you take your chances.) This prompted one man to say, "Yeah, global warming my foot, what a joke." To which the other table rejoined, "That's right, up in Spokane we had the coldest winter anyone can remember this year." And thus I found myself surrounded by global warming deniers. "It's just a plot so some people can make money." "Yeah, Al Gore -- he has a huge house and I heard he drives three humvees!"

Let's see...the Spokaners complained about how Governor Chris Gregoire "stole" the election from Dino Rossi, then they all commiserated about high taxes and moaned that Barack Obama wants to give us "Canadian" healthcare, "even though everyone knows Canada has the worst healthcare in the world." Naturally then we had to gravitate to Iraq, and it was generally agreed upon that "the Iraqi people are tremendously grateful we are there" and that "the liberal media" simply refuses to report the good news. The oldest man in the group then remarked, "Iran is next, mark my words. Just read Revelation, it's all there."

By this time my blood was positively boiling and the Revelation remark was the last straw. You read Revelation, you butthead. I held my tongue, though (see James 1:19-20) and instead said, "Can I get the check?" I didn't have anything to drink with my dinner because I'd brought along a bottle of Oregon Pinot Noir that was waiting for me back in the room; and it's a good thing, too, or I might just have told them off. Instead I wished them all a peaceful visit to Oregon.

About that wine: as I was shopping for the trip, I came across a new label, Anam Cara Cellars, and with my recent introduction to Celtic Christianity, I took that as a sign. Well...it's awful. Tart, no body, with strong hints of pickle. Gross.

It was only 7:00 and I was still mad, so I decided I'd go for a walk on the beach, even though it was windy and foggy. Alas, there is only one public access route to the beach from the hotel, and I hadn't gone very far past it when I realized it was already lost in the fog and growing darker. A storm was coming, so I turned around and went back to the room, cold, wet, sand-encrusted and depressed.

I decided to take the old fart's advice and read Revelation. All of it, so that I could feel justified about my self-righteous indignation. And it made me madder still, because it's actually quite wonderful and there's really nothing in there about Iran; it's about Rome. Anyone with seven heads and ten horns can see that.

A thunderstorm rolled in and, there being nothing else for it, I turned out the lights, reclined on the bed and watched. This was nice for about two hours, but then I felt really tired and wanted to actually sleep. I would drift off for about 10 minutes and then awake again to another window-rattling blast of thunder. The storm finally passed about 3:00.

I awoke about six and lay in bed debating with myself about whether I should try to get more sleep or get up and take advantage of the day; at 6:45 I rose and went for a walk on the beach, which was definitely the highlight of the entire trip. Got some great pictures -- see below -- until flashes of lightning appeared over the ocean and I decided I'd better high-tail it off the beach and get some breakfast.

After morning prayer I hopped in the car and drove down to Yachats to get coffee at the Green Salmon, which has amazing coffee and pastries and boy, if you dared insult Al Gore at the Green Salmon, you'd probably be thrown out. My kind of place.

They are closed on Mondays.

After sitting in the car in the parking lot in the rain for about three minutes chanting, "No! Fuck. No! Fuck. Fu-u-uck!!!!" I figured I might as well drive down to the Fred Meyer just north of Florence and go to the Starbucks there.

Ummm...I misjudged the distance. It's like 25 miles.

And the Florence Fred Meyer does not have a Starbucks.

They do have an imitation Starbucks. There were two customers in line ahead of me, which meant I stood there for 12 minutes until I got to order. (Yes, I counted.) I asked for a large coffee and a low-fat marionberry muffin. "Okay, sir, just so you know, the muffins just got delivered so it might still be a little bit cold, is that all right?" "Sure," I said.

Cold? Fucker was frozen. I'm serious. It was cold, wet and mushy on the outside and muffin-ice at the core. Also the coffee was weak and tasted like cigarettes. Within an hour I had a "you have not had coffee yet" headache.

It was raining.

At this point I decided it was time to give up and go home.

You know, the Oregon Coast is wonderful, even in inclement weather. All it takes is a good bottle of wine, a comfy chair and a marvelous view. Well...three strikes. I was outta there. I drove back to the hotel, told them I had changed my plans and asked for a refund for the second night.

The good news is, I got 37.25 mpg in the new car.

* * * * *

The day looked like it maybe had some promise; sunrise over Alsea Bay.

Alone on the beach; perfect.

The tide was definitely out; have you ever seen a beach so broad?

Kind of hard to tell, but these are pelicans.

A great blue heron.

As Paris Hilton Would Say, "Hot."

Okay...so, today is the third triple-digit day in a row for Portland, which is highly unusual. We usually see 100 degrees somewhere in August, but this is a little intense. Fortunately it's slated to drop to the upper 80s tomorrow and the low '70s on Monday.

Still, in the meantime, there's no question about the most popular spot in the apartment.

I have not (yet) taken a single vacation day this entire summer (too much to do!), but Thursday morning between fits of feeling like I wanted to cry I decided maybe I should ask for Monday off. I found a cheap hotel room for tomorrow and Monday night out at the coast, so I'm just going to drive out after church, spend the night, and then take all day Monday to do, oh, nothing.

A while back I promised you a live-blogging roadtrip event for Hermiston, Oregon's first-ever Gay Pride. Umm...I didn't really get around to that. Co-traveler SMB live-blogged (as best he could, given spotty wireless access) on the JustOut webpage -- read here for details. (No, I did not go with him to the strip club. Honest.)

Here's where we stayed. "Tillicum" is a ubiquitous local Native American word, but I have no idea what it means. I confess that, churchgoer that I am, I picked the motel for its dirty, punny connotation. (And the $50/night rate...which, I have to say, was possibly a little inflated, given the amenities.)


Actually, we had a great time. For dinner Friday night, we ate at the first-ever Shari's Restaurant, which was founded in Hermiston, and had truly excellent table service. Breakfast the next morning was at a new restaurant in Umatilla (home of a chemical weapons dump), and while the waffle was excellent, the water was not; and I think the waitress was not entirely sure what to make of two men not in cowboy hats who whiled away the time until the food came by browsing the restaurant's antiques for sale.

Afterward I followed SMB around for some [wo]man-on-the-street interviews, and ended up buying some homemade lavender soap from a friendly, gray-haired lady who said, "It's okay with me if people choose to be gay [!!!], but I don't think Hermiston is ready for any 'New-York-style' protests." I don't think she has anything at all to worry about. As we walked away, SMB remarked that he wasn't sure she even comprehended that we ourselves were queers, despite the fact that I'd talked to her about living in New York and yoga and...well, I bought a lavender soap from her.

"Hermiston Pride" never really got off the ground. First, I guess "Pride" was judged to be a tad ambitious, so it was retitled "Equality Day." The "event" was co-hosted by Western Farm Workers and the Society of Friends, who were there to protest the Iraq war (and had an amazingly powerful Tibetan prayer-flag display).

Hermiston was represented by the local organizer, his mother, and one 18 year old girl who came up to me and said, "So...are you...G, L, T, B...?" I smiled and said, "Oh, I'm G, very, very G." She smiled back and said, "I'm B...which stands for 'bitch.'" I liked her immediately and immensely. Aside from that, the entire turnout consisted of two guys from local organizations in Portland (one of whom was beautiful but clad in a most unfortunate hawaiian-print shirt), a lesbian MCC minister from the Tri-Cities (Pasco/Richland/Kennewick), SMB from JustOut, and a reporter from Spokane's local gay paper. I don't think a single random person from the greater Hermiston metropolitan area even came by. I snapped this picture of a rainbow flag in the park where 'pride' was held because it seemed to me to perfectly encapsulate the flaccid nature of the entire day.

Because the Sanctity of Marriage Needs Defending From the Gays...

You can't make this stuff up. Well, I guess you could, but you'd have to be brilliant. From the Oregonian:

Clackamas rape report turns out to be consensual bondage

by The Oregonian

Thursday August 07, 2008, 11:00 AM

CLACKAMAS -- A man and woman arrested Wednesday night in a reported rape turned out to be engaging in consensual bondage sex after meeting through a Craigslist on-line bulletin board.

Detective Jim Strovink, Clackamas County sheriff's spokesman, said a homeless woman spotted the couple and called police, believing the bound woman was being raped. When deputies arrived, the couple ran.

Deputies then called a K-9 unit and used tracking dogs to catch the couple -- fully clothed. The couple, a Milwaukie man and a Portland woman, were booked into the Clackamas County Jail on accusations of public indecency, disorderly conduct and criminal trespass.

The man told deputies he ran because he didn't want his wife to find out.

The Antichrist is a White Male Evangelical Christian in his 60's from Sullivan County, Indiana, Who Drives a Blue 1998 Nissan Sentra

Is Barack Obama the Antichrist?

Short answer: no, long answer: what kind of biblically illiterate douchebag asks such a question?

Last week, the McCain campaign released an ad that purports to mock Obama's alleged "messiah" status with his followers (who would be, according to any and all available polling, a majority of the nation), but numerous observers have noted that, as Eric Sapp of The Eleison Group puts it, "If the McCain camp was trying to spoof Obama as Messiah, they missed a number of more obvious images and did a very poor job with this ad. If they were trying to draw parallels to Obama as Antichrist, they nailed it."

I continue to be appalled, saddened, infuriated and frightened that so many people insist on pushing the myth of "the Antichrist" while citing a "literal" interpretation of the Bible. A genuinely literal reading of the handful of relevant passages -- all from the first and second epistles of John -- would require one to acknowledge that "even now many antichrists have come."

So despite the fact that by the end of the first century the apostle John (as the tradition of authorship holds) is telling us that multiple antichrists are already in the world, many people today are on the lookout for "the One."

In an article for Time rife with errors on the Barack-as-Antichrist meme, Amy Sullivan points to a chain e-mail currently in circulation that "claims that the Antichrist was prophesied to be "a man in his 40s of MUSLIM descent."

Here is where Sullivan truly misses the boat. She points out that "the Book of Revelation was written at least 400 years before the birth of Islam." It's more like 500, but that's irrelevant, especially since the point here is that End Timers assert that Revelation predicts the future. First, the phrase "the Antichrist" is not found in Revelation, nor in Daniel, another apocalyptic writing she points to but messes up the reference. She refuses to call the bluff of the literalists who insist the Bible says what it plainly does not say.

In one particularly embarrassing instance, Sullivan compares Barack Obama to the description of the Antichrist (in the character of Nicolae Carpathia) in the popular (and nonsensical and heretical) Left Behind novels of Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins; in one sentence she gets multiple facts wrong about both Carpathia and Obama.

Here, though, is where she could really have gone in for the kill and written a great piece. In a predictably excellent post on the McCain ad, Slacktivist quotes LaHaye himself (via The Wall Street Journal) debunking the Obama rumors: "The Antichrist isn't going to be an American, so it can't possibly be Obama. The Bible makes it clear he will be from an obscure place, like Romania." [Emphasis mine.]
How is it that if the Bible is so clear on the identity of the Antichrist, no one agrees on who it is?

Jerry Falwell insisted that the Antichrist would be Jewish.

Others say he will be homosexual. (I guess that's not mutually exclusive.)

Historically, the favorite candidate has been the Pope.

Maybe it's Putin. Or Ahmedinejad. Or Suri Cruise. Here's an article that claims the Pope says George W. Bush is the Antichrist.

And all of this absurdity is pushed by people who insist they're just reading the Bible "literally."

The real story here isn't that some people think Barack Obama is the Antichrist; it's that the "Rapture" and "the Antichrist" are extra-biblical myths hawked by charlatans -- false prophets, if you will -- who distort Scripture to support their own secular agendas and call it "literalism."

Ugandan Archbishop on Homosexuality and the Church

On Friday, the Archbishop of the Church of Uganda, Henry Luke Orombi, published an Op-Ed in the London Times attempting to explain why he and the other Ugandan bishops boycotted this year’s Lambeth Conference.

The issue, as Archbishop Orombi sees it, is the Episcopal Church’s consecration of an openly gay bishop and the blessing of same-sex unions. “The American decision disregarded biblical authority by violating clear biblical teaching against homosexual behaviour,” he says.

“Even though some scholars have tried to explain away specific biblical passages that refer to homosexual practice,” he continues, “the fact remains that nowhere in Scripture is homosexual practice affirmed or presented as a legitimate alternative to heterosexual relationships.”

This is cowardice; he accuses the Episcopal Church of blithely ignoring “biblical authority” and yet declines to engage the scholarship he acknowledges, the scholarship that shows plainly that biblical teaching on homosexuality is anything but “clear.”

Let’s take a look at Orombi’s own approach to Scripture. As justification for shirking his responsibility to the global communion by refusing to engage the subject in person with other professing Christians, he writes, “The Bible says: ‘Can two walk together unless they are agreed?’”

“The Bible” says no such thing.

Anytime anyone cites a solitary verse free of any context – known as “proof texting” – mental red flags should go up. I was unfamiliar with this one, so I had to do an internet search. It turns out that’s Amos 3:3, in the New King James Version. Other translations render it differently. The New International Version has it as “Do two walk together unless they have agreed to do so?” and the more academic NRSV puts it, “Do two walk together unless they have made an appointment?” The English Standard says, “Do two walk together, unless they have agreed to meet?”

Orombi clearly intends for us to take away that the Bible “says” that people are forbidden or at least discouraged from meeting for any purpose unless they are in total agreement about everything; at least, that’s his defense for playing hooky from Lambeth. But that’s not even how the cited verse (in one variation) reads. Amos is asking, albeit perhaps rhetorically. But there is an answer to the question, and it’s clearly “yes.”

Just today – and I am not making this up – I chanced upon a co-worker as I was heading back to the office from lunch. We hadn’t planned to meet, and yet we walked together probably a quarter of a mile or so across the corporate campus to our building. He’s a Mormon, and I’m a gay Episcopalian, so clearly our theologies aren’t going to be in total agreement. Yet we walked together amiably enough.

What else does Amos ask in this passage? “Does a lion roar in the forest, when it has no prey?” Umm…it might. Why not? “Does disaster befall a city, unless the Lord has done it?” (Jesus had a different take on urban disasters.)

Instead of smacking millions of prayerful, conscientious (and biblically literate) Episcopalians across the face with a single (questionably translated) verse ripped from its context and misrepresented as a commandment rather than an open question, perhaps Archbishop Orombi would want to sit with the 14th chapter of Paul’s letter to the Romans for a while and get back to us.

The Archbishop Misses

Walking with Integrity has published the transcript of the Archbishop of Canterbury’s “Presidential Address” given today for the bishops of the Anglican Communion gathered at Lambeth in the UK.

As has been widely covered in the media, the once-a-decade Lambeth Conference has been closely monitored for signs of a rift in the global church over the issue of homosexuality, especially the consecration of openly-gay Bishop Gene Robinson of the Diocese of New Hampshire and the increasingly widespread pastoral practice of blessing same-sex unions throughout the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Church of Canada.

This is not a new controversy. Resolutions in previous Lambeth meetings have repeatedly called for a “listening” process, in which the global community is supposed to open its ears and its hearts to each other as a means of finding the common ground, or at least mutual understanding, necessary for moving forward together.

In his address today, Abp. Rowan Williams notes that while there seems to be a lot of talking, he is unconvinced that much listening is going on – a criticism he levels squarely at both sides of the debate. In the course of his talk, he outlines what he imagines is the core message each side wants the other to take away.

It’s a gentle idea but is unfortunately premised on the notion that we in the more progressive camp are not properly sensitive to traditional church teachings or the authority of Scripture.

This is absurd on its face, because it presupposes that we have largely come from a tradition that embraces the ordination of gay people and the sanctification of same-sex relationships. Nothing could be further than the truth; nearly all of us have grown up with the traditional understanding that homosexuality is an aberrance and a sin. It is not accurate to say that we are casually ignoring inconvenient Scripture or altering practice merely to keep pace with popular, secular culture. Whether gay or straight, it is our faith and our abiding love and respect for the Bible that has caused us to engage this question, to go deeper into Scripture and examine the problematic passages and to seek to understand them.

I personally grew up with a quasi-literalist understanding of the Bible; in the Lutheran church where I attended Sunday school, no one was promoting the idea of a literal six-day creation, but I doubt you’d have found anyone – especially me – who claimed to detect any wiggle room in the twin verses in Leviticus that appear to condemn homosexuality as an “abomination.” That was not up for discussion, and in my early teens, as I became aware of my orientation, I can recall the abject terror those verses inspired in me, because I took them seriously.

For the Archbishop now to muse on behalf of the Africans that Episcopalians haven’t spent enough time appreciating where they’re coming from is an enormous failure to comprehend the painful and scary journey that many of us – both gay and straight – have undertaken to reconcile our faith in a loving God with passages of Scripture that simply contradict what we objectively know to be true about the spiritual gifts of God’s gay and lesbian children. The arguments and appeals we have made on behalf of greater inclusion for Christ’s church are based specifically on our profound regard for Scripture, a regard that inspires us to re-evaluate and re-assess the traditional understanding.

Indeed, he is so far off the mark that he actually manages to suggest that the progressives have not bothered to consider “what it is to be known as the 'gay church' in a context where that spells real contempt and danger.”

That’s the entire experience of “coming out” – the fear of what it will be to be known as the ‘gay person’ in an environment full of contempt and danger.

Oh, yes, Archbishop. We know all about that.

A New Addition to the Family

Sorry I haven't blogged all week; I've just been incredibly busy. I've barely kept up with what's going on in the world.

However, I am pleased to report a significant upgrade to my lifestyle.

Socially responsible and sexy. (Just like me.)

Non Prophet

Oh, my God. I agree with James Dobson.

"There's nothing dishonorable in a person rethinking his or her positions, especially in a constantly changing political context,” Dobson told the Associated Press.

Well, bravo. This is exactly right; in fact, that’s what mature people do, pause to re-evaluate ideas – even long-held beliefs – in light of changing circumstances and new information. Indeed, even (and especially) Christians should heed this call. It’s not merely not “dishonorable,” it’s frankly a moral imperative. It doesn’t mean you necessarily have to change your mind, but the responsible person is open to bouts of second-guessing themselves.

Okay, I snark, because while I find this morsel from Dobson agreeable, the context in which he said it is pretty deplorable.

"Speaking as a private individual, I would not vote for John McCain under any circumstances.” That’s James Dobson on January 13. Note his emphasis on ‘private individual’ – as head of the quacky “spank away the gay” organization Focus on the Family, Dobson has to be careful to refrain from commenting in an official capacity on elections to avoid jeopardizing the group’s tax-exempt status. Their budget for 2007? $150,606,000.00.

Well, apparently, Dobson is re-evaluating whether there might be, in fact, “any circumstances” under which he would not just vote for but actually endorse John McCain.

It turns out there is one: if a Democrat is leading in the polls.

Last month, Dobson assailed a 2006 speech given by Senator Obama on faith and politics at Call to Renewal in Washington, DC, and proclaimed that he was "deliberately distorting the traditional understanding of the Bible to fit his own worldview." Oh, the delicious, delicious irony, topped with a zesty hypocritical glaze…kind of like fruitcake, the word Dobson famously used in the same jeremiad to describe Obama’s interpretation of the Constitution.

[Here I might add that Obama is a recognized constitutional scholar, previously a member of the adjunct faculty at the famously conservative University of Chicago Law School where he lectured on that very subject.]

On a Focus on the Family radio broadcast today, Dobson moaned, "Barack Obama contradicts and threatens everything I believe about the institution of the family and what is best for the nation. His radical positions on life, marriage and national security force me to reevaluate the candidacy of our only other choice, John McCain."

Yes, indeed, Obama is so radical, so wildly out of touch with American voters that only a small majority of the country agrees with him. I mean, pulling out of Iraq and focusing on Al Qaeda in Afghanistan and Pakistan? That is some serious left-wing crackpottery. His foreign policy was recently lauded by Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki, who – I might add! – just happens to be a Muslim. Maybe there is something to those rumors.

Clearly one can’t in good conscience vote for Obama, right? We’d be much better off with a Commander-in-Chief who doesn’t know Iraq doesn’t border Pakistan and thinks Shiite Iran is training and funding Sunni Al Qaeda in Iraq. Plus, he’s almost mastered The Google. I’m so relieved that Dobson went back for some deep introspection on this matter. It shows such character.

"While I am not endorsing Senator John McCain, the possibility is there that I might," added Dobson. Today. On the not-for-profit Focus on the Family radio broadcast.

Hello…IRS?

Meet the Prez

I'm watching Al Gore on Meet the Press.

My heart is aching --- aching -- that this man has not been our president for the last eight years. We would just be in such a different place now.

Plus...I have to say it, the man is hot.

Eine Große Katastrophe

Yesterday was the seventh anniversary of the day I fled Switzerland, following an incredibly difficult year in the young artist program at the Zürich Opera. I decided I would celebrate the occasion by cooking up a traditional Swiss dinner.

Some months ago -- it may well have been Christmas -- my mother gave me a box of Hero brand Rösti. Rösti (pronounced "rœ-shtee") is a popular but simple Swiss potato dish that's basically like a giant hashbrown, but oh, so good. I decided I would pair it up with my all-time favorite Swiss recipe, Kalbsgeschnetzeltes, basically sauteed veal in a cream sauce with paprika and marjoram.

First, let me just get out of the way that I haven't really mastered the art of cooking more than one thing at a time. Second: what happened to the price of veal? I used to buy veal in New York every once in a while and it never bankrupted me; it was $21/lb here. I'll be having top ramen until my next paycheck (not a popular Swiss dish, but nonetheless, often what I ate while I lived there).

Hero Rösti comes in this space-age, air-tight silver pack; there's not even an expiration date on the box. (This was the same technology the Swiss used to seal up their national sense of humor.) The directions are simple enough: heat up a frying pan, put the potatoes in the pan, pat down into a patty shape and cook over medium heat for 15 minutes until a nice golden brown crust forms on the bottom. Carefully place a plate over the frying pan, turn it over, drop the Rösti onto the plate, then slide it back into the pan on the uncooked side for an additional 6 minutes.

Easy, right?

Okay, so at the 15 minute mark, I very, very carefully flipped the frying pan while holding a plate over it. I heard a little "thhhhheeeeerrrrrrrrthupkkt" and felt a delicate plop onto the plate. I gently removed the frying pan...and discovered a mass of yellow, uncooked potato pieces on the plate, while most of the Rösti hung in black and brown shreds from the bottom of the frying pan.

Crud.

The veal turned out okay, though.

Of the Birds and the Bees...and the Mice

Another absolutely perfect summer day in Oregon. I was able to leave work early again today, and made it out to the pool about 3:00, and for the first 20 minutes or so, I was completely alone as I stretched out on the chaise. I fell asleep almost instantly. I could feel my muscles relaxing in the warm golden sunshine, a gentle, dry breeze blowing away my cares.

Alas, my reverie was broken by that most unwelcome of pool intruders; no, not a cloud, or a raindrop, or a hornet...a toddler. Not even maximum volume on my iPod could keep out the stream of conscious shrieked forth unceasingly from this little girl.

As her grandmother was applying her sunscreen -- "Gramma, it's COOOOOLLLLD!!!" -- a small garter snake, about six inches long, slithered across the patio. The scream that emitted from the tyke...indescribable. I am hoping my hearing comes back tomorrow.

"Oh, you don't need to be afraid of him, dear," said Grandmother.

"He can't eat me?"

"No, honey. He's much too small, and he wouldn't want to, anyway. Snakes eat...well...let's see, I suppose he'd eat small birds, and bird eggs, and maybe turtle eggs if he found them, and mice --"

"And mice eggs?"

"...."

"Well, no...mice don't lay eggs, honey."

"Why not?"

"Well...because they're not the kind of animal that lays eggs."

Safely strapped into a vest and inflatable arm thingies, the little girl splashed about in the pool while Grandmother sat in a chair and tried to read a magazine.

"Gramma...Gramma...Gramma! Watch this."

"That's good, dear," said Grandmother, not looking up.

"Gramma...Gramma...Gramma!....GRAMMA!!!!!"

"What, honey?!?"

"Did you know mommy has a bagina?"

Am I Buying a Car or a Senator?

I am currently researching automobiles, in gleeful anticipation of a far-from-certain improvement in my income next month. I'm thinking about the Honda Civic Coupe. (Yeah, yeah, I know...the Hybrid would be lovely but waaaayyyy out of my price range; even the Coupe is pretty wildly optimistic, but one can dream.)

However, I did feel obligated to share with you this description on the Honda website of the Coupe's design: "A wide stance and exceptional body rigidity help provide a solid and sporty ride."

Heh.

Is that a $600 Check in Your Mailbox or are You Just Happy to See Me?

I am officially stimulated.

Most of you are probably thinking, "You just got your check TODAY?" Well, yes. The IRS distributed the checks according to the last two digits of the taxpayer's social security number. My last digits are 98. Could have been worse, I suppose.

My dear friend "Anonymous" was looking in vain (though, not very hard) for some instance where I disagreed with Barack Obama; this is one. In fact, back in January I said the only politician on the right side of the government's "economic stimulus" bill was...Mike Huckabee. I am still upset that we're going to borrow billions of dollars from China (ummm...that we have to pay back, with interest) to send people a paltry $600.

Granted, right at this moment I'm pretty relieved to have $600 more in my checking account, but it irks me that this isn't actually a tax refund, it's essentially a cash advance on a credit card that George Bush and the Congress took out in my name.

* * * * * *

Following up on Bp. Robinson's visit to the UK during the Lambeth Conference from which he is being excluded on account of some other bishops' discomfort with homosexuality, the Vicar of St. Mary's, Putney -- where Robinson preached this past Sunday -- wrote one of his predictably acidic and hilarious columns for The Guardian about the event.

Money quote: "How on earth does Gene Robinson cope with the disgusting abuse to which he is subjected most days – the protester who interrupted his sermon in my church on Sunday being a pretty mild example? Day after day, buckets of spiritual shit are thrown at him, sometimes by fellow bishops, and he just keeps going."

Wow, I am loving the phrase I emboldened there (to use a favorite word of the President's). It's vulgar, sure, but so, so, so accurate. Absolutely the right metaphor for the situation.

* * * * * * *

It's To Wong Foo meets Priscilla meets The Last Debate: fellow blogger and JustOut columnist SMB and I are teaming up to cover Hermiston, Oregon's first ever Gay Pride event. Okay, well, no SMB will cover it, I'm just driving and along for the thrill of it. It's the weekend of August 1-2; stay tuned for another exciting Road Trip Live Blogging Event (this time without cats, I'm afraid.)

Not One of the Gifts of the Spirit

I kid you not: "An Oklahoma church canceled a controversial gun giveaway for teenagers at a weekend youth conference.Windsor Hills Baptist had planned to give away a semiautomatic assault rifle until one of the event's organizers was unable to attend." [Emphasis added.]

UPDATED JULY 15: They've changed their minds; the gun-giveaway is back on again. Money quote: "Windsor Hills Baptist apparently has a history of worshipping God through firepower, and last year ran a shooting competition as part of its annual shindig." Now, that is some snarky reportage! Bravo.

"I Believe in the Living God"

Over at Walking with Integrity (Integrity is the national GLBT advocacy network within the Episcopal Church), they've posted a recent sermon by Bishop Gene Robinson.

As I ponder the direction I think I want to go professionally in life -- working within faith communities as an advocate for LGBT people and as an ambassador to those who have been wounded by the church -- one of my main tasks will be to open new windows of understanding on the handful of Bible passages which have been used to condemn homosexuality.

"Could it be that even the Bible is too small a box in which to enclose God?" asks Bp. Robinson, a question that is likely to be met with disbelief and outrage in parts of the Christian world. For many, even within the Anglican Communion, the Bible is the Word of God, and to question or doubt the historic or scientific or theological accuracy of any given passage is to directly challenge God's self. This is a non-starter for a lot of people.

Nevertheless, as I have argued before, questioning God is what we are called to do. The Almighty isn't afraid of a mere question; indeed, what are the Gospels but the record of an extended Q&A session with Jesus? Within the stories contained in Scripture, people question God all the time. Questioning and even confronting what we read in Scripture is how we go deeper in faith.

The question before us is whether God stopped revealing His will to us when the ink dried on the last page of John's apocalypse, or whether God continues to speak to us today. Bp. Gene helpfully points to John 16:12, when on the night before he died, Jesus commented to his disciples, "I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now." There is a clear Scriptural argument to be made that the Bible does not contain everything the Lord wants us to know; there is a promise that "when the Spirit of Truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth." That process -- as we look backward over a church history that includes the burning of women as "witches," the endorsement of slavery, the Crusades, the Inquisition and all manner of horrors -- is ongoing. It is essential to note that Scripture was used to justify all of these grievous sins; yet the Spirit never abandoned us, and continues today to call us and pull us and push us forward in the "spirit of truth," to go back now and re-read those parts of the Bible we thought we understood and discover them anew with astonishment that we ever thought they said what it was claimed they said.

"It is the brilliance of Anglicanism that we first and foremost read scripture, and then interpret it in light of church tradition and human reason. No one of us alone can be trusted to such a process because, left to our own devices, we recast God's will in our own image," says Robinson.

What a shame, then, that this year's Lambeth Conference will not include the duly elected and consecrated Bishop of New Hampshire, nor will it include more than a fourth of all bishops, due to their decision to boycott the gathering over the ordination of women and God's gay children. Where is the Gospel passage recalling the time Jesus said, "No, I won't speak to that person"? When we read the Great Commission -- "Go forth, therefore, and make ye disciples of all people" -- where is the fine print that excludes some of those people or allows us simply to choose not to engage with others in conversation about our disagreements? Can we not trust "The Spirit of Truth" to guide us into deeper understanding and reconciliation?

A Follow-Up

It's been a crazy couple of weeks. Work has been busy and then of course on Wednesday we had the memorial service for my stepfather, which was a moving and fitting tribute attended by a couple hundred people (including a couple of this blog's readers; thank you, again).

* * * * *

My company has "summer hours," which means that we can leave at noon on Fridays until September, provided the boss is satisfied that everything that needs to be done is done. I worked like a crazy person for four hours yesterday morning and disappeared precisely at the stroke of 12. A few minutes later I could be found reclining on a chaise by the pool at my apartment complex, basking in dry, 83-degree bright sunshine with a gentle breeze, exhaling a deep sigh of exhaustion.

There was a familiar face hanging out with a couple of friends. They were deep in vapid tweentalk which I tried hard to ignore, until suddenly their voices dropped to a hush. My ears pricked up, because I'm wise enough to know that meant they were actually going to say something interesting. Here's what I overheard:

Girl 1: ....

Girl 2: How do you know that?

Girl 1: He told me.

Girl 2: What, he just came out to you, like, randomly?

Girl 1: Umm...it's a long story.

I can only imagine she was referring to this.

* * * * *

Readers may note that I have disabled anonymous commenting for this blog. It seems I have tremendous difficulty restraining myself from feeding the trolls. So now, if you'd like to comment, you'll need to sign in.

No doubt "Anonymous" will once again accuse me -- or would, if he were still allowed to comment here -- of being unwilling to debate (note the blog title), but the truth is, I will happily engage differences of opinion as they relate to a common set of what are known as "facts." "Anonymous" accuses me of not wanting to know "the truth" about Barack Obama, and then proceeds to insist that he is a stealth Muslim who, like all blacks and Hispanics, hopes to initiate slavery reparations using white folk's 401(k)'s.

For a time I found attempting to educate this dullard entertaining, but I've grown weary of it. His repeated "threats" to not return to my blog have not been kept, and he has ignored my pleading to go the hell away.

Poor Hillary

The New York Times reports today on the, shall we say, tepid response from Democrats to Barack Obama's gallant request for donations to help Senator Clinton retire her $23 million campaign debt.

Ahem.

I think it was a nice gesture on Obama's part -- he even personally contributed the legal maximum of $2,300 -- to acknowledge Senator Clinton's historic accomplishment.

But I am confused about this notion that there should be any obligation on the part of Democrats -- especially Obama supporters -- to provide financial aid to one of the world's richest, most powerful couples.

Gas prices are soaring, the US is hemorrhaging jobs, people are rioting around the world protesting the skyrocketing costs of basic food staples (16,000 children will die today from hunger-related causes) and we're supposed to dig deep into our pockets and pass a buck to a Senator and her ex-President husband who are collectively worth $109 million?

Senator Clinton was not some political neophyte. She knew well what she was doing when she spent $11 million of her own fortune -- check it, folks, eleven million dollars of her own money she spent, and she wants help!?!?!?!?!? -- on her presidential campaign. That was a gamble, not an investment. Even if she'd won the nomination, there's no guarantee she'd recoup that loss from donations.

It was many weeks from the time that her path to the nomination became mathematically improbable until the day she surrendered -- pointedly, not on the day Obama clinched the nomination; no, on that evening, she delivered a bizarrely Bushian alternate-reality speech in which she announced she would ponder her options -- and during this time her campaign wildly spent beyond its means.

It is particularly ironic that she wants help from Obama supporters, after she spent months (and millions of dollars) trying to damage his reputation with cheap guilt-by-association smears and misrepresentations.

I think we can breathe a sigh of collective relief that she will not be put in charge of fixing our economy. No wonder conservatives deride welfare and entitlement programs, when you have millionaire liberals telling the Times that they are "bitter" that no one is rushing to help them recover from their financial folly. Imagine if the Clintons had to pay for their own debts! Why, by my calculations, that would leave them with only around $80 million. Poor dears. How would they get by?

I don't know what she's going to do. Maybe she'll have to write another book?

A Good Morning Kiss

It's an image from ancient myth and classic fairytale: Brynnhild and Princess Aurora are both awakened from deep, epic slumbers by the gentle kiss of a lover.

Today it was my turn.

And I also solved the age-old question, "Do cats have morning breath?"

Starbuck decided she wanted breakfast early today. 5:16, to be precise. At least, that's what time her plaintive, high pitched squeak first roused me from my dreams. I rolled over. I love you, cat, but I'm not getting up at five on a Sunday.

She then proceeded with a series of strategic "meow and run" bombings: she'd sneak up to my ear and emit a plaintive squawk and then dart away before I could grab her and force her to snuggle. Each little mew grew louder in volume and insistence. I sat up and she hopped off the bed and looked at me, pointedly.

I threw a pillow at her.

It only took me a few minutes to drift back to sleep. This time, Starbuck decided she wasn't messing around. She sidled up to me and purred, and did that head-butt thing. It felt good. Awww, I love you, kitty.

Then, without warning, she stuck her tongue in my mouth. And ran away.

EWWWWWWW!

I decided it would be bad to encourage this sort of behavior, so rather than reward her with breakfast, I chased her out of the room and closed the door, and slept for another hour.

Blogroll Update

I've cleaned up the blogroll on the right. I deleted several links that are now defunct or ones that I just don't check in with anymore. I've also added a bunch of new links to blogs that I've started reading recently.

Well Hello, Oregon

Jeez Louise, this is about the dreariest-looking 4th of July in history. It looks like February outside (though fortunately it's warm enough to have the windows open, and my lilies bloomed overnight!).

Happy Independence Day, y'all!

Things that Make You Go "Hmmm"

This morning I was out of milk, both at home (so, no cereal) and at work (so, no coffee) so I decided I'd go ahead and stop at Starbucks and get coffee and a treat to take with me.

Behind me in line was a very handsome, very well-dressed guy about my age who pulled up in a BMW. He ordered a "non-fat, one-pump peppermint latte."

I could not decide whether that was the gayest drink in the history of the world or something so disgusting that only a straight man could love it. Thoughts?

If Only James Dobson Were Right

My new upstairs neighbor is gorgeous. I mean...wow. He is hot sex in a bottle. (Now, where on earth did I pick up that phrase?)

Alas, his girlfriend isn't bad, either.

I hate them so much.

I wish I could work my secret evil gay powers; in tandem with the combined force of Oregon and Washington's Domestic Partnership laws and California's legalization of same-sex marriage, according to the wing-nuts that should be more than sufficient to wreck this relationship and make him go gay. I mean, the government has clearly sent the message that it's okay; why is he still hanging out with this chick?

I mean, I know that this would mean the collapse of civilization as we know it (or at least, that's what I'm told), but honestly, for him I'd risk it.