Someone, and I will not name names, wrote me this very pissy e-mail about how since I’d started writing about politics, I’d gotten a lot more conservative.
That’s not true. I’ve gotten a lot more indifferent. As a senior political science student, I do research that leads me to believe every damn day that both parties are completely insane and neither one of them really deserves the attention that the average American gives them… because in order to fix the parties, what really needs to happen is that the average American needs to start giving the Democrats and the Republicans more attention than they know what to do with.
Because believe me when I say that constituents intent on content are like kryptonite to Congress. Say that three times fast. I’m on a roll today.
There are members of both parties that would sell their mother for Jack Abramoff to take them to Scotland… and a good bit of them are trying to sell their mothers right now because Jack Abramoff did. If you haven’t gotten a chance before now, start reading Vanity Fair. It’s a little biased to the left, but even if you’re a right-wing conservative, you’ll still have plenty to chew on. My personal favorite was the roughly five page article that started with the President denying that he’d ever met Abramoff, and five (count ‘em, five) pictures that state otherwise.
For all you yellow dog democrats out there, are you following the story of William Jefferson? I know you’d like to think that the Republicans are the axis (or “asses”) of evil, but Jefferson is a Democrat accused of orchestrating a corruption scheme- demanding cash and prizes for negotiating African business deals. Now, I’m not a lawyer, but I think they’ve got some pretty convincing evidence:
The investigation became public on Aug. 3 when FBI agents raided Jefferson’s homes in New Orleans and Northeast Washington, where they found about $90,000 in cash in his freezer, law enforcement sources have said.
In the freezer? If you’re going to claim innocence, you for damn sure don’t hide shit in the freezer. This story will get weirder before it gets better. Law enforcement officials are lucky all they found was money. There could have been a severed head.
And if the two parties weren’t causing enough trouble, let me play a lawyer on TV…
My first love is constitutional law. Nowhere in the Constitution does it say that the Feds have the right to enter congressional offices and loot around. It doesn’t even have a sentence from which you can extrapolate the right to fuck up their program.
I was just about to say something very naive, like “when the founding fathers were writing the Constitution, they probably never dreamed this would be an issue…” Then I realized I’d only be saying it because it sounded good, not because it’s true. Half the Constitution was written by taking the right people and getting them too sloshed to move right before they were supposed to vote.
Surely the Framers figured out that something like this was bound to happen. So what we have now is a truckload of evidence and no way to use it… a lot like the OJ case, actually… (And confidentially to the pretentious fuckwit who told me to cite more recent cases because it made me look like a rookie, THIS is going to be the next huge precedent in Fourth Amendment violations. ) The problem is not that there’s too little evidence, it was that it was obtained in an illegal search and seizure. Whether or not they had warrants, Justice does not have the right to wrestle Congress to the mat during Saturday Night Smackdown. If you remember nothing else from this web site, remember this- one branch of power does not have the authority to make any other branch his or her bitch.
I’ve been spending some time reading my old blog, “Clever Title Goes Here,” and it’s the easiest way for me to see myself as a different person, often losing all the context around something, even forgetting the people I was with at the time. It’s what hits a home run for me every single time. I am batting a thousand at recording my own life, and I cannot tell you how valuable it is to me. I am only in charge of what I’m putting out there, not what I’m receiving. That means I can’t count on you to like my writing, it would just be nice. I’ve had imposter syndrome for a long time, but I realized two things. The first is that if I’d gone into journalism when I was young, I’d still be there. I know this because I can sneeze a thousand words, and it only takes a little bit longer than that to type them. I am connected to Mark Twain on a deeply spiritual level…… “I’m sorry this is long, but I didn’t have time to make it shorter.” I am a Stephen King kind of bitch. I start writing and who knows which way I’ll go, and I’m as fascinated by the way I think even more than everyone else because my eyes get opened quickly when I am no attacking it with a red pen. It’s so long ago I don’t care.
Today, though, I have a “guest blogger.” He doesn’t even know it. His name is Dr. Ken Wall, and he taught me Constitutional Law in 2006. I posted one of the lectures on my old blog and it fascinated me today. Mostly because I thought they were lost for good and Ken was one of the best teachers I’ve ever had. Since this is an hour lecture, you might want to bookmark this page because he’s worth the read.
When I’m in my classes, I type every word the professor says. Last week’s lecture in Foundations of Law was incredible, and I thought you might want to read it.
The Myth of Moral Justice
We need laws
Think of the legal system as an unloaded gun.
We need law. If there wasn’t law, people would come up with their own set of rules. We all have our own internal rules… laws that we live by. Very few of us are completely spontaneous because we need guidelines. We like the laws to be enforced and we enforce the laws ourselves. But we don’t want them enforced to the point where we get pulled over for doing 4 miles over the speed limit.
When you get married you inventory the situation. You move into the place that’s bigger, and then you find out that there are loaded revolvers in drawers, under the bed, etc. You don’t like loaded guns in the house. We all like to get along with our partners, but through no fault of our own, we make them mad, and all of the sudden there are GUNS IN THE HOUSE. The government is like an unloaded gun- I want it there, and I don’t want to be afraid to use it.
The problem is what do we really want out of the legal system?
I’ve not actually been sued or sued anyone. But I know if I were sued or if I was being sued what I would want is to win, but that’s an unfair thing to say because we don’t always deserve to win. What do we really need? To be heard. You want fairness, you want juries that are fair. You want fairness until you are the one that’s disadvantaged.
What are we looking for from the system?
Consistency
Justice
Fairness
No bias or prejudice
Facts
Truth
The bottom line
Remedies for grievances
Equal treatment
A soul?
What if every time you went to court, the judge said a different thing? Is it fair to make someone tear down a $35,000 garage because it’s two feet over into your property? Do you want your opponent to come in and say “hello, Uncle Fred” to the judge? Do we want the law to be feeling?
One of the major problems with law is what people want from the law is not what the law is set up to provide.
Falsehood 1
The law is in the business of seeking out the truth. It’s in the business of seeking out the facts. I’m driving along the street and there’s a 35mph zone. I’m doing 40. The light goes yellow, then red, and since I’m in Texas, I just go through. As I get through the intersection, a little boy steps in front of the car. I hit him and do serious damage. I’m going to be sued. One of the big questions is going to be how fast I was driving and what was the color of the light. Those are important facts that the court needs to determine to make their decision. This little kid wasn’t paying attention, might not even know his colors yet. There’s only me and my passenger, who is dependent upon me for her college education and everything she needs in life. Passenger corroborates the story. The other two people on the street say he was going slow. The young lady says, “I’m not sure. One of the lights was green.”
What color was the light? It was green. All the evidence says it was green. It was really red, but there is no way for the court to prove otherwise.
What is the law really trying to do? Find out the facts based on the evidence presented. It can be very confusing. We keep out more than we let in. We often keep out evidence that is highly relevant because of hearsay or copies instead of originals.
What if we changed the facts just a little bit and another car as the kid is laying there in the street and I’ve pulled on ahead to check my tires and see the kid “awww, man!” I go back and the mother is screaming. Another guy runs almost instantaneously through the light and runs over the kid again. The testimony in my lawsuit is that it was green and because I’m a nice citizen I testify for the kid in the other case because he got sued. The facts are different even though the truth is identical. Although the truth is the same, when the facts are decided by the court, it’s usually not the same.
Falsehood #2: The courts are here to do what is fair and what is right; Justice equals just, fairness, or morality
They’re enforcing the standards of the community. They want to come to the bottom line. Move it, tear it down, or leave it alone. In some cases the law does what is fair, but it’s an extra. Even ignorance of the law is no excuse.
Another example would be that there are people with certain expertise. Let’s say I’m an art expert that knows Old Masters. My little old lady next door neighbor is having financial difficulties. I’m over there sympathizing with her and say, “you could sell some stuff and make some money.” “All I really have is some old stuff that my parents brought over to the old country.” It turns out to be a Cezanne and a Rembrandt. They are dirty and need cleaning. The moral thing to do would be to tell her that she’s rich. But you tell her, “the paintings are okay, but no one will buy a picture of a fat lady. I’ll tell you what. What was your bill the last two months? I’ll pay your bill if you’ll give me the three paintings and we’ll call it even. We sign a contract. You read in the paper that I’ve just bought Galveston island. LOL cannot sue to get her paintings back. She accepted the offer, I’m not a merchant so it doesn’t have to be in writing. There’s a legal term called tough noogies.
Falsehood III: Negotiated pleas and settlements based on falsehoods are not allowed.
I don’t want to know how many times you’ve been arrested and pled guilty, but it does happen. It used to be and is still in a few jurisdictions that for whatever reason the head prosecutor won’t allow plea bargaining for criminal cases. Some other guy who looked like me was in a jurisdiction that didn’t allow plea bargains and I couldn’t make any agreements on charges, etc. Between 90 and 98 percent of cases are plea bargained. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that if every case went to trial that if you got arrested you wouldn’t go to court for thirty years.
Deals are made. Defendant pleas guilty. “Has any agreement not in writing been made concerning these charges? The judge will gavel down guilty. When you work out certain deals on civil cases, although maybe not quite as bad, the attorneys will decide how to work it out. We’ve all got dirt on our spouses that work in our favor. House of cards, house of lies.
I hope that I never knowingly took someone to trial that I thought was innocent. (He’s a prosecutor.) I don’t think I ever used the shotgun method- take every statute involving criminality and just load ‘em into the gun and start shooting. Charge ‘em with 100 different things because SOMETHING has to stick.
Falsehood IV: A lawyer that fastidiously maintains all the ethical requirements of his/her profession is a fair and honest lawyer.
It doesn’t mean that justice will be done if you follow all the rules. One of the codes of ethics says that you can’t knowingly present false evidence to the court and try to pass it off as truth. So I’m defense counsel, the question I NEVER ask is “Are you guilty?”
Now I know because I’ve seen the bank video that he’s guilty, but I don’t want to know so that I can always say, “I didn’t know because I didn’t ask the question. The video could have been manufactured. The witnesses could have been lying. I had to believe my client.”
Falsehood V: The reasonable person test is a good method of determining what one should do in differing circumstances.
I’m driving along talking on the phone putting on my makeup drinking a Slurpee. Would they be doing all those things? Probably, but is it reasonable? Today driving and talking on the cell phone is reasonable because that’s what most people do. There have been some tests that talking and especially dialing the phone is more dangerous than driving at .08 BAC.
Was it reasonable for the black man charged with raping the white woman to run? Generally, running is an admission of guilt. In the 30’s, no matter how innocent he was, it was reasonable for the black man to run. A black man that would have stayed would have been shot and the girl’s father brought down as some sort of hero even if no rape had occurred. (To Kill a Mockingbird)
If the community believes that the legal system is there to do what is just and to discover the truth, then the adversarial system of justice may not achieve a legitimate sense of the truth.
There’s a guy in NYC who was depressed and homeless. Decided to commit suicide by jumping in front of a subway train. Train missed him. Suffered severe shock. Wasn’t pushed. JUMPED. Sued the city of New York and was awarded over 3 million dollars. Tried to commit suicide and got MORE money from the city.
In this case, with these facts, should the city have put up a barrier to keep the guy from jumping?
In the next lesson, we’ll go over ways to fix the problems with the legal system. A lot of the problem is the way the law is set up in and of itself. It’s hard to get people to change. You’ve got to look at an opinion that just goes stupid to see what changes need to be made.
I am not picking something I don’t know anything about, but if I start now, I might learn some of the finer points by the time I die. I will never know them all. There is a crossover, and I’m starting to think that I’m more autistic than ADHD. Stopping the Adderrall only convinces me some of the time. I mean, I can list the symptoms I have and they’re all text book……. but they’re also signs of being autistic and trauma reflexes. Even if I went to a doctor, I think my issues are so complex that they would think what I do…. it’s not a case of just one thing. Everything in medicine starts with one diagnosis. Just one.
“It depends.”
That’s why med students are asked for diagnosis, secondary diagnoses, and protocols.
Experts in medicine are not counted by how many As they got in medical school, though if they fuck up, that’s definitely an indication. No, being a superb doctor depends only on what you’ve seen and what you haven’t.
You’ve seen it if you’ve ever watched “House” (it’s not lupus). Those kids go through every dependency like they’re on a bender searching for House’s opioids. They don’t tell you this on the show, but every illness they’re talking about is what’s called a “fascinoma,” probably Latin for “first case” or something. I’m too lazy to look it up, but that’s what it means for lay people, anyway. In law, it’s “prima facie” (pronounced “fa-chee.”). My three fields have dependencies in common. You have no idea how much they matter in Ubuntu.
In all of these things, particularly Ubuntu and medicine, the consequences for being wrong are drastic and cause gastrointestinal distress.
Here’s why I’m specifically mentioning Ubuntu. Most linux nerds have autism. Most nerds, for that matter. You don’t have to be neurodivergent to be a nerd, but neurotypicals, you should know not to intrude on a safe space. You do it all the fucking time by thinking you’re going to be cool and go to ComicCon, but when you get there you’re somehow put off by the other patrons. If you can’t learn anything about the Autism spectrum by observing a Star Trek convention, you’re not paying attention. Neurotypicals seem to live by the slogan “walk softly and carry a big stick.” That’s because you’re perfectly lovely until we do something you don’t understand, and then you get judgmental and sometimes angrily so.
Supergrover definitely didn’t have empathy for it, but at the same time, she didn’t know enough about me to really take it in, because she knows from autism. And she didn’t see any neurodivergence in me not because she wouldn’t, but because she couldn’t. I’m not blaming her, because it would have been totally different if I’d been hanging out at her house for the last eight years. If she’d actually seen me in my day in, day out appearance and mannerisms, she would have had me pegged by the way I walk. Also, I’m not sure that it would occur to her how much crossover there is between me and some of the other people she interacts with on a daily basis. She didn’t get it and not because she didn’t want to. It was impossible to do all that online.
“The medium is the message.” -Marshall McLuhan
I think after a while, we just got so used to our rhythm that meeting up seemed weird, plus I could have more of her if I was only in her DMs because I was the only one traveling with her consistently. I am not sure that anyone e-mails her more than me (by quite a large margin…. and if that’s not true, what I lack in frequency, I make up for in volume.
I wonder if she ever knew I was writing letters to her like a WWII-era high school sweetheart. I didn’t even realize that until today. News from the home front, essentially. I wanted to be one of the pictures taped up in the cockpit, but I never wanted to be the only one unless that was a possibility. Next to her son or something. I don’t know.. Just not left in a box in Virginia.
I know by now that I am every bit the photo I say I am, and here’s how I know that.
She rips me off all the time. We’ve been writing to each other for 10 years. I absolutely know that things I’ve said have entered her lexicon, and she quotes me almost every day. I know they weren’t all bad lines, and hers weren’t either. I think I’ve said “painting my feelings as fact” 50 times since she said it. She says “pack up your toys and go home” now. There are word associations with me by the thousands. This is why I believe that I am her Impossible Girl, woven into her from the inside out. I haven’t changed her because we interact. I have changed her because now our brains are inextricably interrelated because reading someone’s most important thoughts makes them last a lifetime. She has two legacies now…… the one that’s big and impressive, and the one that fucking matters. We’ve been writing to each other for 10 years. I absolutely know that things I’ve said have entered her lexicon, and she quotes me almost every day. I know they weren’t all bad lines, and hers weren’t either. I think I’ve said “painting my feelings as fact” 50 times since she said it. She says “pack up your toys and go home” now. T This is why I believe that I am her Impossible Girl, woven into her from the inside out. I haven’t changed her because we interact. I have changed her because now our brains are inextricably interrelated because reading someone’s most intimate thoughts is different than having a conversation.
Reading things makes you retain information longer than conversation.
It’s just that she’s so busy she cannot retain all of it. I’ve made it impossible. “LORDAMERCY” is a direct quote. 😛 I wish she would just not read it until she had time rather than responding immediately, because writing is what I do, not her. Of course I’m going to have more output than her if I’m workshopping an idea. During one of our big fights about it, I called her out on the carpet and she didn’t respond at all to it. “I told you to create a folder in Outlook and a filter so that my e-mails weren’t coming directly to your inbox, but going into that folder so you weren’t getting notifications for them. It was your choice not to do it. I didn’t expect you to be johnny on the spot, but you were.” That’s because she’s a fixer/pleaser always trying to please me as well.
Interestingly enough, this did not start happening until after I was a total idiot, so I’m wondering if she’s reacting to me like she reacts to her husband now. That nothing is ever good enough for me because she’s trying to please me and doesn’t see that I don’t need it. That gives me more empathy than anger, enough to bring me to tears because if I’d noticed what she was doing, I could have said, “my beautiful girl……. stop. You’re perfect.” And in fact I did try to say that a million different ways, but it didn’t take.
She is so pure- concentrated hope, love, sweetness, and light. She will also eat your face off.
Only my mother knows the whole story, and she didn’t hear it until long after she died. I comforted her and told her she could go, because I was safe. That she never had to worry about me again, both because she couldn’t and didn’t have to anymore. All the mother-love I have in me transferred to her and not as a replacement. Because she has kids. She’s already a mom. She got offended when I said she had that vibe, like it was some sort of joke. Even if I had been joking, I would have meant “I think of you as that vibe because it’s the one I need most desperately.” But it’s a mix. I kidded her later about our past and she destroyed me, not a sick burn that I thought was funny, either.
I told her that, too. Then she got even more defensive. I realize that I dropped an absolute bomb on her, but it’s never about me. Ever. I don’t have needs. I just said something to piss her off. It’s only my behavior, not what triggered it.
But my mother is the only one who knows exactly who I’m dressing down when I do it and she would be horrified. Absolutely horrified. That’s because my mother put a lot of stock into titles. But the rest of the world sees her as her title. In my head, she’s six. Our inner children talk to each other in adults’ voices. (What could possibly go wrong? Editor’s Note: A LOT). I am not sure that she’s taken in that I’m 14 when I talk to her…. and I’m not 14 with anyone else, because I don’t trust anyone else that much. She got in under the wire and disarmed the bomb. You only think my anger management is bad now. She metaphysically hugged and kissed me back together…. but I’m still a work in progmess. I have just begun the process to complete the transition.
Transitioning is a big word in my community. I hope I have a quarter of resurrection in me that my friend Evan has. God, he’s the most beautiful trans boy I know, and a redhead like Zac. Trans people have a lot of crucifixion moments. Lots of Sanhedrins out there, lots of Pilates…… but unlike Pilate, they were never chosen by anyone to have input.
I don’t have contempt for the Sanhedrin, because they were always going to be assholes. I have contempt for people who have the ability to not be an asshole and DON’T. Pilate could have saved all this from happening…. crucifying someone for their words and not their actions, a minority in culture because the Jews were ruled by the Romans. Jesus has more in common with Sandra Bland than he has with Joel Osteen, and please go right up and tell him to his face…. also don’t be an asshole. Put that shit on YouTube and send me a link. 😉
I would give up my life’s savings for that asshole to get a clue. He is a white supremacy Jesus apologist with one of the biggest platforms in the world.
He could overhaul American Christianity………….. but he doesn’t.
What all of this has to do with ADHD and Autism is that I’ve been rambling for 30 minutes without stopping regarding things that excite me because I can. I cannot do this in conversation witih anyone else, and I have stopped trying. No one puts up with it
Even when I can’t help it.
So I have to learn it on my own.
I just want you guys to know that I’m crying right now. Writing these entries take a lot out of me, a tempest in a teacup. Sorry for the cut and paste mess.I left it in because it proved my point.
Share a story about the furthest you’ve ever traveled from home.
A friend said this about New Orleans, but this is how I feel about travel. It’s a full-on parade of thought; I’m excited until I’ve been away from home for an amount of time that’s never enough to settle. It’s why I’d like to do Air BnB. It would be great to spend a month in Paris rather than a few days in a hotel and at a better rate. Paris is a city that in order to understand it, you have to adapt. You’re from the United States. Your rhythm is not the same. That cognitive dissonance takes time to resolve, so I like trips that are long enough to make you forget your other reality and stop comparing things to it. When I’m in Mexico, what takes the longest is flipping my brain into Spanish. Having conversations where you are both processing thoughts and emotions while translating is exhausting, and Mexicans are so kind about it. The French are not, or at least not the ones I’ve met because I’ve only been to Paris. It has less to do with the fact that I only know a few words and they’re frustrated and more with the fact that Paris is like New York and London. They don’t have time for you not to know what you want, just like if you need something from someone on the tube in London, say the bare minimum and move on. Talking to strangers isn’t their thing in either city. It would take me a long time to adapt to Paris, but “my wife” says that when she reads me, she sees colors of David Sedaris.
That wasn’t flattering at all, JFC.
It makes me feel comfortable that David is the kind of person that if I ran into him in Paris, we might be able to strike up a friendship because I would remind him of the time we met in Frederick without hounding him for anything. I have so many creative friends in my life that fame doesn’t faze me. I just want to sit at the table if they think I’m worthy of it. Writers don’t give other people their time if they don’t think that person can keep up with them intellectually. They have so much fun and devastation on their own that it takes a lot to get through to them. You have to prove that your company is better than “the characters they keep.” Nothing is more important than complete isolation when you’re writing. For me, that looks very much like the classic image of a coder because I did web development for a long time. My favorite tools are text editors that color code and I type with all the lights off and my editor in dark mode. I’m just not doing the HTML because WordPress does that for me. I mention the way I work because it leads to the fact that the story of the farthest I’ve ever traveled includes times where I haven’t left my house.
I have lost myself in this world where I spill out everything in order to lead from the back, and it has fed me in every way that’s been missing. I love feeling confident in the fact that I can express myself, and don’t mind that my archetypes are Steve Jobs, Mark Zuckerberg, and Mr. Robot. I also have to accept that the virtual world is not the physical, and to be responsible with relationships. For instance, I don’t know if my new writer friend knew how I felt beforehand, but it made me feel good that when I asked to friend her, she really saw me as an actual friend because when she messaged me, she sent voice notes instead of typing. It just normalized everything, and she’s got a gorgeous voice Yes, we’ve sung for each other, and now I know a karaoke night would be in order if I was in the ATL or she was headed to Air and Space.
I have to remember the fact that other people don’t have the archetype of Mr. Robot and don’t write like they’re coding into the night, one thought pouring into the next at a frantic pace, made more urgent by the sound of their own typing. I get going and I say things that are over the line without truly thinking of the consequences. The separation of being virtual heightens everything, and I don’t want to feed into it.
I don’t want “my wife” to feel like I am wandering from who I really am, and she can be a better judge of that by hearing what I mean in the way I meant it. Her voice notes were just a good reminder to keep it real, and we’re having a good time. She’s not only an actress starring in a play right now, she’s a recovering attorney who went to school in the DMV and does conflict management in the ATL now. Endlessly fascinating and we haven’t found a lag in conversation yet. It’s what really examining how far from home I was willing to go has meant to me over the last 10 years. It’s been the journey to hell and back with someone because I caused the root of the conflict. Losing someone is one thing. Being responsible for it is another.
It’s why I’m glad there’s medication to help me cope with all my silly ruminations, and ironic that the more I spill them, the more you gather. My medication just introduces upper and lower limits. It guides the direction of my compass, the only thing that matters when sailing foreign seas.
Being raised as a preacher’s kid caused me to alternate between carrying my heart on my sleeve and shutting down so that my real emotions remained hidden. This is due in a small way to my dad’s congregation and trying constantly to be the one who doesn’t need anything from anyone. I was actively trying for perfection in this area, because according to my mother, I needed to be the perfect child. But she didn’t say that in words. It was more that we had a job to do. Stiff upper lip and all that. It was bonkers, because my dad was the one with the actual job and he never expected any of that crap. My mother was the puppet master, and I don’t know that she knew that, but we did. We all lived in fear of rocking the boat.
This is going to sound horrible, but you’ve never known me to do anything but tell the truth. I never told my mother to shut the hell up and get with the program, and I desperately needed to do it for my own sanity. And, of course, she’s not here to defend herself, but on this one, she really can’t. It’s the one time in my life where I thought, “I will never forgive her ever in my lifetime.” I was just angry, of course. I did indeed get over it. But it took a very, very, very, very, very long time.
When I came out, my mother cornered me in my room and told me “I will not embarrass this family that way.” There’s more to it than that, but thankfully I’ve blocked it out. Only that one line remains, a scar on my skin healed over with time, but never forgotten.
Here’s what she never really took in:
Everyone already knew and talked shit behind her back. They knew before I DID. People with eyes recognize baby queers, even if their parents don’t. When I was 14, they thought I was being molested and at least two people cornered her and told her she needed to get me the hell out of that situation. It was too late, because I was already gone. It was a Supergrover kind of love at the wrong place and wrong time. However, if that hadn’t been a factor, I do think I would have been stuck in a miserable relationship considering how I think marriage is working out for her partner. I wouldn’t be her for cold hard cash. I am sure that she professes her love to everyone no matter the case…… because she has more in common with my mother than she would ever admit. She’s the puppet master, and I don’t know that she knew that, but we did.
Actually, that’s bullshit. Of course she fucking knew. I had all the rights and responsibilities of a partner, listening to all the crap going on in her life that was wildly inappropriate for a teenager. But I didn’t have her. She wanted me to be the one that wanted her while she played blissfully ignorant. I didn’t get laid, but I was well and truly fucked. The situation didn’t have to be romantic for it to be terrible. Supergrover is actually a tiny, tiny bit older than this woman, and I’m picturing her at her age when I was 14, and that was my BAZINGA! moment. I couldn’t picture her telling me jack shit for anything in the world….. to protect me, the very thing that I thought was happening and it turns out it, in fact, was not.
At some point, I’m going to go see about a boy. He’s already married, so it’s not like that. It”s that he was my boyfriend before Ryan, so, seventh grade, the one that was there every single Sunday and could probably tell me a lot more than I could tell him about what was going on if he remembers at all. It’s not that I was insignificant to him, it’s that it’s been 31 years now.
If he doesn’t remember, his dad could have written the dissertation. He was one of the ones that really saw through the bullshit, and he didn’t stop anything, but he was really the first person that made me absolutely lock down.
Unfortunately, the F is no longer with us.
Contrast my mother’s reaction to everyone else’s, including the actual pastor in the family.. My dad told the United Methodist Annual Confereence to shut the hell up and get with the program. Very politely, of course. He went to the floor, where there were hundreds of his colleagues gathered to vote on whether “homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching.” You could wake up a Methodist in the middle of the night and the only thing they know from The Discipline is that one line.
I would have been an incredible Methodist pastor. The best, really, because I learned from the best. I would have brought something new and completely different to them if they hadn’t taken me out like it was Trash Day in Harris County.
Here is a paraphrase of what he said, made all the more brave, crazy, and stupid because it was 1995. The other thing you should know is he did not tell me what he was going to do beforehand. He didn’t tell anyone. He stepped out on a ledge, and he flew:
“It’s really easy to say that homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching…. to group everyone together and call them ‘the homosexuals.’ But it looks different when it’s Carol’s niece. Bob’s nephew. David’s daughter.”
The vote did indeed pass, but it was closer than it had ever been.
I went to the church that day seeking God. They weren’t there until my dad finished.
The Bible says in Matthew 18:20 “where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there in the midst of them.” In that moment, no one else was in the room except my dad and me. It wasn’t the first time I had a spiritual experience. Life is full of them. But that’s the moment “Jesus wept” became extremely loud and incredibly close. The church itself was just an expensive building….. as if no one had bothered to invite him. He wept in sorrow for some of his followers, and elation for others.
Jesus wasn’t crying because I’m queer and therefore bad or unworthy. He was crying because these supposed “fishers of men” were trying to lift the net after they got into it. But they will certainly spend queer money……. because they love you…….. when you tithe. Otherwise, good luck. You can belong to a church for 30 years and give them millions, but they still won’t do your wedding or ordain you.
When I could have been a “contenduh.” I know I talk a lot of shit, but not about this. When I’m on fire, I’m unstoppable. It just doesn’t happen all the time…… but that’s not being a bad preacher/pastor. That’s being a perfect human.
My dad didn’t quit his job because of me. He acknowledged his divinity and his humanity. It is both too complicated to explain and above your pay grade to know why. But on the way out, he raised hell in front of THE PEOPLE WHO FUCKING DESERVED IT.
Not me.
But everything was fine.
You can completely ignore me and I will be totally fine until I explode, angry at the world because NO ONE IS PAYING ATTENTION TO ME. It seems so ridiculous on my part to feel like a toddler, but sometimes I do. It’s okay for no one to notice that I’m sad or hurt or depressed or whatever… but if they love me, what should happen when I fade into the woodwork and am not noticed for years? I can keep it up flawlessly right up until I can’t.
How I have turned needing other people into not needing them at all is knowing that everything in the world would disappear and it would take a lot for me to notice if I was in the middle of an entry. I am now in charge of taking care of me, and I am much better about expressing a full range of emotions, especially when I am sitting alone and writing here, because nothing is directed. It is not my job to have a reaction when I’m finished.
Again, I don’t need friends. I want them. I cannot be dependent on them for validation, however.
It is to acknowledge that writing itself is a spiritual experience, and you (plural) becomes you (singular) in my mind…………
Where two or three are gathered, and Christ walks into the room.
If I know Christ as well as I think I do, here’s what Jesus would have said to the Annual Conference that day, actually the words of “Paul” in the second letter to the Corinthians:
You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts. known and read by everyone. You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the Living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.
Such confidence we have through Christ before God. Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God. He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant- not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.
Homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching.
The letter of the law killed me…….. and resurrection happens in the middle of the mess.
There is nothing more responsible for that rebirth than you are.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Coffee and doughnuts will be served in the Fellowship Hall. 😉
News just broke that Jussie Smollett has been indicted on felony charges for giving a false statement to the police regarding his racist and homophobic attack. The two men that were arrested previously claimed that Smollett paid them to attack him because Smollet had arranged hate letters to be sent to himself that contained “a white substance” and they were not getting enough attention by local and national media.
To a complete outsider and armchair psychiatrist, this looks like some kind of mania, so I’m going to go easy on him. I have a huge amount of sympathy for doing the wrong thing while not being able to see the world for what it really is. But having sympathy is not the same as thinking that he shouldn’t have consequences. Consequences are the only thing that really work in terms of forcing self-reflection.
Just because my actions created emotional issues and his created legal ones don’t have much weight with me. They are two sides of the same disastrous coin…. well, legal trouble creates emotional trauma, so in this case, the coin has landed on its edge and Smollet is looking down.
The main reason I believe this can be chalked up to mental illness is that he didn’t play this out to the end. Being such a public figure only increases the chances that he would get caught, because the case is automatically more high profile.
And past that, there are the consequences for the queer community at large, not that Smollett ever signed up to be any kind of poster boy, but to me, the unintended consequence is possibly less enlightened people regarding the plight of LGBT people will say that things in the United States aren’t that bad. This attack was rigged, so maybe others are, too.
I would argue that violence against gay men and transgender people is worse than it is for lesbians, statistically, because lesbians fly under the radar, due to the fact that most men think we’re cute and harmless, playtoys for their fantasies and not individuals with agency. There’s also the demeaning and insulting trope I run across frequently, that it’s cheating for straight women to sleep with other men, but women? That’s not cheating at all. That’s an opportunity.
I will never forget one of Kathleen’s friends taking us to a bar where the friend’s parents were drinking and the dad asked us to kiss in front of him. First of all, eww. Second of all, that’s your daughter’s friends. I wasn’t angry because he was drunk, but I was eager to leave because I was extremely nauseous.
So, my hope is that people do not write off emotional and physical violence toward our community, because it happens all the time. ALL THE TIME. We don’t need to make up threats, they’re already here. And with a conservative federal senate and even more conservative state congresses, the law isn’t often on our side. Before the indictment came out, I was reticent to believe that a black gay man would get a fair shake from the Chicago Police, anyway.
From what I have seen, the investigation looks fair, but surely you can see where I’m coming from based on past history.
It will be interesting to hear what Smollett has to say when he is ready to give a statement. I am willing to forgive him, but not to let him off the hook. Apologies must come with changed behavior. Otherwise, the apology is null and void. The intended and unintended consequences are going to be a ripple effect for a long time to come.
What happens when the next queer person is attacked? It’s only a matter of time. It could be happening right now. Are they going to be believed? Or will the echo of Smollett’s attack create more scrutiny than before?
I want to know that when I say something happened to me, that I will be given the benefit of the doubt immediately.
My gut is telling me I should write something. My mind is saying, “I got nothin.’ This is because so much has happened that the pictures from each event are swirling so fast that I can’t grab one long enough to describe it. As one Tumblr user said, “do you know how much braining it takes to make the words go?” I’m not sure I’ve ever identified more with any statement. Ever. I am much better one-on-one, so I’ve been writing a lot of letters… believe it or not, there are actually some things I won’t vomit all over the Internet. I know it’s hard to imagine. I mean, I’m so shy and retiring when it comes to talking about myself. But right now, so many things are internal that I literally can’t force them from the river that runs underneath my skin into my fingers.
What I can say is that my birthday was full of joy at having my family here to celebrate. It’s been years since I had a birthday party with my dad and sister. What’s even better than that is my sister is the good kind of lobbyist, so I see her almost as frequently as I saw her when we both lived in the same city. Now that Congress is winding down, I won’t see her again until possibly October and definitely in November, but it was great that this month’s work trip coincided with the transition from 40 to 41.
Movies and television about the CIA are so fascinating to me that I love that my age is the same as George H.W. Bush’s presidential number. No comment on how I’ll feel about 43. In this vein, I would like to skip directly from age 44 to 46.
Interesting sidenote about CIA television. Jack Ryan on Amazon Prime Video begins in Lebanon, so I’ve been able to look at amazing pictures from the real country (it wasn’t actually filmed there) thanks to Hayat’s upbringing. For those of us just joining us, I rent a room from a Lebanese family, complete with photos in country throughout most of the house. Because of them, Lebanon is on my bucket list- too beautiful to ignore.
I will just have to find a big, strong man to accompany me, because I’m a feminist and I’m also not stupid enough to ignore the rules in a Muslim country. Lebanon is not as strict as some of the others, but I’m not taking any chances. Because I’m such an introvert, I’d probably be the most comfortable in a burqa, and I’m not kidding. I’m a writer and observer. Not so much with the talking to strangers, and although I am generally delightful in conversation, for the most part it is me overcoming my natural shyness and jumping into The Leslie Lanagan Show.™ You don’t generally get the real me until we’re at a secluded table, cups of coffee between us… and even then, we have to have known each other a while. I don’t feel entirely comfortable with people until I’m assured that they know the real me, and for better or for worse, love me anyway. But no one I’ve ever come across dislikes The Leslie Lanagan Show.™ It comes from years and years of practice. Fake it til you make it and all that comes with it.
It is probably for this very reason that I spend so much time alone, because I want to spend my time as an authentic person, able to walk around in my own gargantuan inner landscape. I think mostly about where I want to go from here, not career-wise, necessarily, but who I want to be as a person. As my anxiety goes down, my capacity for love goes up. It’s easy to love people who love you back. Hard to love the irritable, the angry, and the unknown.
My authentic self wants the capability to love the world where it is, how it is… and at the same time, so angry about the things that divide us as a country and as citizens of the world.
For instance, it is inconceivable that people are having trouble believing that Bob Woodward’s book, Fear: Trump in the White House is just a basic hatchet job, when this is the same reporter that broke the Watergate story and has also covered seven other presidents in addition to Trump and Nixon. For instance, my favorite Woodward book is Obama’s Wars, where he doesn’t even blink in his critique of the president, and presents some information that tempers unfettered adulation, such as his own Syrian blink of 2012-13. No president is above reproach, and while I admire Barack Obama greatly, and would do basically anything he asked, that does not transfer into thinking he is a perfect person. No one ever is. We are all angels & demons, depending on the choices we make and when.
Trump… opens with staffers stealing things off the president’s desk, knowing that if the papers aren’t there, he’ll just forget about the issue… and one of them involves instigating conflict with North Korea. I am not kidding when I say that almost literally, the bombs start dropping in chapter one.
So, to discredit a reporter and non-fiction writer who has an amazing reputation is infuriating to an enormous degree. If anyone is capable of telling this story, it is Bob Woodward.
Write it down.
So, to put it mildly, my thoughts have moved past the personal into the global, which is probably what is driving my interest in intelligence-gathering. One of the points that Woodward makes, which is very relevent at this time, is that the FBI and CIA have different standards for espionage. This is because CIA evidence is rarely used in court cases, and “the Feebs'” evidence often is. Therefore, vetting in the CIA doesn’t have to be quite as high, because it does not have to meet the “beyond a reasonable doubt” or “preponderance of evidence” requirement- the former in criminal cases, the latter in civil litigation.
This, of course, bit CIA in the ass during the WMD years, which has, in turn, made them even more cautious now… in the words of Martha Stewart, “a very good thing.” Now I’m just pleased with myself. I made a complete sentence using CIA and Martha Stewart. #touchme
But, of course, it’s not just thinking about the world that has me interested in intel. I am just one of those people who likes Knowing Stuff.™ To be in a room full of journalists or government workers is being invited to sit at the cool kids’ table for me… the reason I know DC is where I belong.
One of the great joys of my life is when Dan and I meet for lunch, and I get to walk her back to her office in Foggy Bottom. I’ll let you guess what that means. More fun to figure it out on your own. However, I will say she’s not a spook. But she’s sure as hell smart enough to be. Also, because she’s so small, it tickles me to think of her back in her Army days, running around in full battle rattle. I have no doubt that one of her main strengths was running right at the enemy and knocking them off-balance. 😛 (Oh, am I ever going to catch hell for that one…)
Now I’m back to thinking about the personal, all the light my friends bring into my life. I am one lucky, lucky 41-year-old. I’m not sure how the next trip around the sun can top this one, but I’m sure going to try. It seems easier when I feel like I’m literally lifted off the ground, the warmth of friendship holding me aloft.
I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.
-S. G. Tallentyre (Evelyn Beatrice Hall)
We are in a moral morass thanks to the SCOTUS ruling that a baker does indeed have the right not to sell a wedding cake to a gay couple due to religious beliefs. It would have been a totally different case had the baker just posted a sign that said, “we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone,” and kept his mouth shut. But, he didn’t. He brought in the phrase through counsel that “decorating cakes is a form of art through which he can honor God and that it would displease God to create cakes for same-sex marriages.” Here’s where that gets tricky. It was masterful to bring in artistic expression…. probably the only reason that this became a SCOTUS case in the first place.
Let me be clear- these are the ramblings of my legal brain, after completing a course in Constitutional Law (in which I did very well) and becoming a paralegal in the state of Texas, which does not give me license to either claim understanding of Colorado law or dispense legal advice, but does prove that I understand rules of civil procedure. It has nothing to do with how I feel morally about being treated like a second class citizen. I am talking about jurisprudence, which often departs from morality.
The truth is that the ruling was sound. I’m sorry, it’s terrible, and it’s the truth. One paragraph in a news article regarding Kennedy’s opinion stands out to me, and apart from anything else, it is the question at issue on which the entire case rests:
Kennedy, the author of some of the court’s most important gay-rights rulings, began by explaining that the case involved a conflict between two important principles: on the one hand, the state’s power “to protect the rights and dignity of gay persons who are, or wish to be, married but who face discrimination when they seek goods or services”; and, on the other, the “First Amendment rights to freedom of speech and the free exercise of religion.”
In that vein, I find for the baker as well. Again, artistic expression is key in this First Amendment ruling. It is also important to note that this case began before Kennedy’s landmark gay rights rulings occurred, so some of the ruling reflects being “grandfathered.” On the other hand, the state of Colorado did itself no favors:
The Court concluded that the [Colorado Civil Rights] Commission’s actions violated the State’s duty under the First Amendment not to use hostility toward religion or a religious viewpoint as a basis for laws or regulations. Under the facts of this case, the Court determined that Phillips’ religious justification for his refusal to serve Craig and Mullins was not afforded the neutral treatment mandated by the Free Exercise Clause.
This conversation is not over, but it does not begin and end with this SCOTUS ruling. It begins with the American population. An overwhelming majority of Americans support gay marriage, and, in fact, its sanctity. It is time for the hand of the market to reflect it. More powerful than any court decision is not giving money to businesses who discriminate against anyone, and to fight like hell for sexual orientation to become a state and federally protected class.
I understand both sides of the issue- wanting to correct a wrong, and also being skeptical of wanting to give a raging homophobe your money in the first place.
And if you are a liberally religious person, it is time to stand up and reclaim Jesus as your own. Jesus never said anything about homosexuality, so as theologian Jim Rigby proclaims, it cannot be essential to his teachings. I personally believe that because Jesus was all about widening the net of acceptance, he would be horrified at current Biblical literalism. As in all things, I could be wrong, but I doubt it. If we are to have true religious freedom in this country, the Religious Left needs to do more to make itself known- not that they are not fighting the good fight, but they do not have the clout, basically controlling an entire political party, of the Religious Right. It is not my goal for the Religious Left to control the Democratic Party, because I believe that separation of church and state should remain intact.
I do believe, however, in protesting all of the freedoms that the Religious Right says we should not enjoy, because they are trying to create a theocracy…. As in, you can have religious freedom as long as it’s the one we believe, too.
Never forget that we also have the right to fight like hell for freedom from religion, as well. Even as a liberal Christian, I am on board with this, because again, separation of church and state should remain intact. Religion can and should influence how we vote, but as a result of going into our closets to pray and meditate, not trying to subvert the entire political process.
We were warned a long time ago, and we didn’t listen:
Mark my word, if and when these preachers get control of the [Republican] party, and they’re sure trying to do so, it’s going to be a terrible damn problem. Frankly, these people frighten me. Politics and governing demand compromise. But these Christians believe they are acting in the name of God, so they can’t and won’t compromise. I know, I’ve tried to deal with them.
-Barry Goldwater
It has become so prevalent that the word “Christian” is associated with bigotry and literalism that it sometimes makes me sick to my stomach to admit I am one, because I don’t want to be lumped in with the uncompromising Word of God™ that needs no translation after thousands of years, becoming stagnant and not the ever-living document it was meant to be. For instance, I think that we are constantly adding to the Gospel, that our words are no less important than the ones set forth for us by the writers of the Old and New Testaments. They were just regular people, like us, who felt divine inspiration…. and not only that, it was a regional council in 1546 which resulted in the Canon of Trent.
Furthermore, the King James edition was specifically made to reflect the views of the Church of England, the basis for the Protestant church today. So think about all of those regular people we left out…. all of whom had something to say and weren’t deemed worthy of inclusion.
We all need to keep writing the Gospel of our lives, whether or not it is deemed officially worthy of inclusion, because even if we are not included in “canon,” it is already well-documented that it doesn’t matter. Someone else long ago threw out regular people’s truths because it didn’t line up with their beliefs…. but that doesn’t render them invalid.
Because if we’re going to talk about religious freedom and the government, it has to reflect the changes in our own lives, as well. My favorite stories are the ones in which Biblical literalists step into the light of inclusion, leaving behind the comfort zone that is only “thisbig,” due to the threat of hellfire and damnation…. or simply reaching out to someone unlike themselves after un-thinking that it is unpleasing to God.
The reality is that reaching out to people unlike yourselves is the entire point of the Gospel. For that part, there is no translation needed.
We have to prove it with our money. Few things speak louder than fear of losing money or going completely bankrupt because of discrimination. We may have to drag bigotry out of society kicking and screaming, but it is what needs to happen. We cannot rely on the courts to do it for us. Some things have to start with realizing what is true for us, and acting on it.
Sometimes, the invisible hand of God working in our lives coincides with the invisible hand of the free market. It can either be life-stifling or life giving.
Stories That Are All True 