So as you’ve no doubt heard, the Democrats finally pulled their heads out of their collective asses last night and passed the damn bill. However it wasn’t without its own particular hysterics. In particular several protesters yelled racial and homophobic epithets and Democratic members of Congress. I think it’s rather self-evident that bigotry plays a rather large role in the Conservative movement as does a general lack of empathy for human suffering, however it’s been interesting in a rather depressing way to watch those two forces interplay in the health care reform debate. A lot of this sentiment rises from the Tea Party elements of conservativism, which for better or worse has been driving a lot of the grassroots energy to the Republican party over the past six months. So of course Republican politicians have no desire to alienate these people, which leads to some rather repugnant justifications for this language.
First Devin Nunes (R-CA), who represents the 21st district which includes Clovis and Visalia, said this:
Yeah, well I think that when you use totalitarian tactics, people, you know, begin to act crazy. I think, you know, there’s people that have every right to say what they want. If they want to smear someone, they can do it.
Now we have Steve King (R-IA) saying this:
“I just don’t think it’s anything,” King said, emphasizing that the incidents were isolated. “There are a lot of places in this country that I couldn’t walk through. I wouldn’t live to get to the other end of it.”
So apparently totalitarian tactics (by which he actually means majority rule) and the fact that an old white guy is afraid to walk through black neighborhoods makes it okay for protesters to use hate speech. It’s things like this that make prognostications of the coming Great Republican Takeover seem a little… myopic.
Today the choir I sing in sung for a Unitarian Universalist service. The service was on Holly Near. Holly Near is an American singer-songwriter, actress, teacher and most importantly, social change activist. We sang several Holly Near songs including “I Am Willing” (I have a solo), “The Great Peace March”, “All That There Is”, and “Simply Love”. The words to “Simply Love” are as follows:
Why does my love make you shift restless in your chair
And leave you in despair
It’s simply love – my love for a woman
It’s a simple hand on a warm face to say
A glance to see if love is still ok
A glow at dawn when love is still there
Tears and strong arms at the end of the day
And simply love – my love for a woman
It’s the laughter as the kids clown
And tease our weary thoughts away
It’s looking ’round the table
And knowing hard work fed us one more day
And simply love – my love for a woman
Why does my love make you shift in your chair
It’s the bombs across the border
That should make you tear your hair
And yet it’s my love leaves you screaming out your nightmare
Perhaps you know there’s something you should fear
If my love makes me strong and makes
you disappear
It’s simply love – my love for a woman
When we sung “Simply Love” in our Spring Concert last year, I had a speaking part as part of the introduction before the song was sung. I talked about my marriage to my wife and how it’s not only not recognized legally where I live, but was also not supported by all of my friends and family. Several months ago I gave this introduction in the city I was born and raised. This was shortly after I was married. Of course, being in my hometown made me think about my mother who does not support my marriage or the thought of me being a lesbian and before we could get through the song, I was in tears.
Well today I felt that same deep moving and was unable to get through the song without crying. The words are beautiful, and the song is beautiful. Every time we sing the song, it makes me think of my mother who I haven’t talked to in over a year now and people in the world who want to judge me because of the person that I love.
My mother and I use to be close, very close. We would talk everyday and we would talk about everything. After I came out, we did not talk for almost a year. Eventually we started talking again, but she was short and distant. She never would call me; I would always have to call her. If my wife’s name (girlfriend at the time) ever came up she would shut down, and basically the conversation would be over. Eventually I got tired of being the one that always had to do the calling. I got tired of her shortness. I got tired of her being evil. I got tired of the uneasiness of our conversations. So, on January 1, 2009 I stopped calling her. I stopped subjecting myself to her shortness. I stopped subjecting myself to her evilness and the uneasiness of our conversations. When I stopped calling, we stopped talking because she refused to call. I am her oldest daughter (she has 1 other daughter) and she has yet to pick up the phone and call me.
Recently my wife and I have been talking more and more about having kids. It’s sad to think that a child that I birth will have no interaction with their biological grandmother.
I’d be remised if I didn’t however mention my father who has been more supportive than I could have ever imagined. He was not only at my wedding; he walked me down the aisle. He has tried to get my mother to come around, but to no avail.
So when we sing “Simply Love” I honestly wonder why my love for a woman makes my mother shift restless in her chair? I can’t fathom while people are so concerned about my marriage when we are in not one, but two wars? I am in a healthy happy relationship with a wonderful woman. She is one of the kindest people I know. Sadly, my mother hasn’t even tried to get to know her. She doesn’t know what a wonderful person I have in my life.
The service today was good and gave me a lot to think about. Thank you to Holly Near for all of the social justice work she has done and continues to do and thank you to my wife, my family and friends who support me and “Simply Love”.
“Oh, Kate, I never imagined you would be this tight!” The blond who peeked up from between my bare legs, perfectly framed between my gently rising breasts, peaked by pink nipples, giggled as she struggled to get a finger into my pussy.
I smiled, “I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.” I moaned a little as she pushed her finger slowly into my vagina, my muscles gripping onto it hard.
To imagine that just an hour ago I was shyly glancing at this gorgeous woman was just amazing. It turned me on to think about how fast it went by.
I was rushing hard to the elevator, flushed and a little irritated. It hadn’t been the best day – work was frustrating, and the two-hour taxi ride in the traffic jam had been hot and stuffy and uncomfortable. I wanted more than anything to just strip down right there in the back seat because my skirt and heels were getting so itchy and suffocating.
I was running as fast as I could in my heels, making as large of strides as possible in my tight skirt, to make it to the elevator, where Jen was standing. She saw me there, rushing to the elevator, and held the door open for me. I remember seeing the way her clothes were so casual – tight jeans that curved around her legs and thighs, showing the shape of her ass quite well, and a low-cut shirt that showed off enough cleavage to want, but not enough for her to be a slut. Her blue eyes and blond hair shone in the light of the elevator nicely.
Of course, at the time I wasn’t too sure, but I could definitely see some signs of her being a little horny. She rubbed her thighs together slowly, trying not to let me see, but I noticed. I decided to take a leap.
“I love your shirt, but it might look better somewhere else…” I said slowly, unsure of myself and what I was doing. My heart was pounding, but I couldn’t pass this gorgeous girl up.
She looked at me, a slight smirk on her face. “Oh, really? Where would that be?”
I took a deep breath and pressed on – my face was getting hot. “On my apartment floor.”
Her eyebrows jumped a little and her smile widened, her eyes brightening as she stepped toward me slowly, seductively. “Hmm… I think it would look good there, too. In fact, it would look even better on your floor next to your shirt.” She winked and ran her hand over my ass, squeezing it gently. I could feel a tingle running through my vagina. My resistance was running down, quickly.
Her hand ran around to my front, sliding up my shirt and feeling my breasts slowly – I had the unbelievable urge to take my shirt and bra off and force her to suck on my nipples. She leaned her head in and kissed my lips, pressing in roughly, but not quickly. I kissed back, pulling her in a little. As our lips parted, she looked me in the eyes. “You’re a good kisser. What’s your name?”
I smiled. “Kate. What’s yours?”
“Jen. How did you know I was horny?”
I shrugged as the elevator doors slid open and the two of us walked out. “I watched you. Want to come to my place?”
She licked her lips. “I would love to.”
I moaned a little louder now. Jen’s finger was inside me, pushing in and out hard, trying to loosen me up, but my pussy just refused to stretch. “God, Kate, your pussy is absolute heaven!”
I moaned again in response, sliding my hands over my body slowly and gently caressing my nipples, pinching them and rolling them between my fingers.
As soon as we had gotten inside I closed the door and Jen had me pinned on the ground, unbuttoning my shirt and rolling her tongue around in my mouth roughly. When my shirt was off, she unhooked my bra and threw it across the room and began attacking my nipples – sucking on them, squeezing my tits, pinching, rolling, biting them… It was amazing. I had to stop her before she got too into it so we could get off of the floor.
We finally found a good spot on the kitchen counter, and she quickly pulled off my skirt as I took off her shirt and bra, playing with her nipples and listening to her moan softly in my ear. She pulled down my panties and I pulled off her shirt, but she kept my nylon stockings on and rubbed her cheek up and down my leg, feeling them. “I love nylon, it’s so sexy.” She’d said.
She was wearing a thong, which I pulled off of her and threw onto the couch in the sitting area of my apartment. I sat up on the counter and laid back, watching as her face came into my pussy, licking it roughly.
After a short while of her fingering me with one single finger and me twisting and pinching my nipples and moaning, she climbed on top of me on the counter and sat so that my head was between her thighs. “Lick my pussy. Make me cum.” She ordered.
I did as she commanded. I spread her pussy with my fingers and licked it roughly, listening to her moan and feeling her wriggle and squirm each time I nibbled on her clit.
I was getting unbearably wet, and I wanted to orgasm so badly. I began fingering her pussy and my own at the same time, pushing three into hers and one into mine after making an attempt at two. After a while of three, I pushed in four and heard her moan louder, begging me to push in more. Finally, I tucked my thumb in and fisted her pussy. This really got her going – she started moaning louder and louder and louder until I was sure she wouldn’t be able to stand it anymore – she suddenly flipped over so her ass and pussy were in my face and her head was down between my legs again, licking roughly at my pussy.
The sudden pleasure was beginning to become too much. I fisted her harder and faster, trying to get her to cum before I came, as it became a contest. Before long, though, the intensity reached its breaking point, and both of our pussies opened the floodgate as sex poured out. Her pussy began a stream out of it, as my own squirted hard into her mouth. It felt absolutely amazing. She tasted amazing. It was delicious. After that, we both ran over to the couch and curled up against each other, tasting each other’s pussies all night.
Today’s Daily Helmsman, the daily campus newspaper of The University of Memphis, ran a headline reading, “Students seek LGTB safe zone”. The article refers to the campus’s GSA (gay straight alliance), known as the “Stonewall Tigers,” a group I joined personally at the beginning of the fall semester, though I have been an inactive member since. However, even then there was much discussion of this “Safe Zone” they speak of. In September, they described it as an area of campus designated for LGTB students to go and feel safe–a resource center of sorts–where they do not feel oppressed or hated by the community. The article in The Helmsman also discusses faculty being educated in how they are to handle LGTB students in the classroom, dealing with discrimination and counseling.
While I do not argue the need to educate people on the ideal ways to treat fellow human beings and how to fight against homophobia and discrimination, this idea of a “safe zone” is ridiculous to me. This seems to me to be an opportunity to separate the LGTB students from the rest of the student population–to corral us almost. This rings to me similar to having separate buses and water fountains for black students to “keep them safe.” I have to call bullshit on this. To give everyone a separate fenced in section of campus based on things as arbitrary as sexuality is horrendous. The image to mind (admittedly, this is a radical image of the proposed agenda) is of a fenced in section of campus with rainbow flags on the gates, homosexuals gathering there to be watched by the rest of the campus like animals in a zoo. “Look! Here we are! Now that we’re all in one spot, you may strike!”
The president and members of the Stonewall Tigers mentioned that posters promoting the group’s activities and fundraisers have been torn down by students. To this, I roll my eyes. I challenge those making these complaints to walk through the halls of Richardson Towers one day. All posters get torn down. While it would be naïve to assume that none of these vandals were expressing homophobia in these acts, I refuse to allow that all of the vandals were. When they are tearing down signs advertising free viewings of PG rated films on campus, are they expressing hatred for movies? Filmmakers? Maybe the rating board? Is that an act of protest? No. Not at all. When these punks tear down signs it’s because they feel destructive. Nothing so dramatic as an intense hatred for homosexuality.
There is a significant gay community on campus and, while again I cannot say that there have never been any problems of discrimination because I’m sure there have been, the general consensus from LGTB students seems to be that they have been unbothered. The University of Memphis seems, at least to me and other LGTB students I’ve met and who were interviewed for the Helmsman’s article, to be a safe campus for LGTB students. It’s a tolerant place. There is no need for this “safe zone” here.
The Oklahoma Court of Civil Appeals has said “no” to a lesbian divorce.
Legal Counsel Tim Tracey of Alliance Defense Fund (ADF) explains that what was at stake in the case was the validity of Oklahoma’s marriage law.
“If you look at this situation, it’s almost absurd,” he comments. “What you have here is a fraudulent attempt to try to undermine the marriage amendment of Oklahoma that was passed by 76 percent of the voters. So you have here a same-sex couple that alleged that they were married in Canada, but yet they could never even produce a marriage certificate.”
The two still sought a divorce by going through the “back door and trying to get an Oklahoma court to recognize it.”
“[The court] saw this for what it was,” Tracy notes. “It was a fraudulent attempt by a same-sex couple to undermine the voice of the people in Oklahoma, and they dismissed it outright. So we think this is the end of the road for that.”
The Oklahoma court is the second to encounter this case and the second to decide that the government cannot issue a divorce for a marriage it does not recognize.
I’ve decided to put a bit of a twist on this cabinet entry. Unlike the others, for this one, I’m not only going to analyse it, but I’m going to be heavily comparing it to it’s print counterpart. To do this, I sought out the article in ‘The Coventry Telegraph’ (18/1/2010) then searched for the same article on the newspapers’ website. Here I found the same article, but tweaked in various ways for online consumption.
Instantly recognizable is the way the print article aims to make the reader empathize with the couple’s situation in an attempt to create a bond and therefore a sense of involvement, to keep them interested in the story. In contrast, the online version states the empirical facts in breviloquent paragraphs, not bothering to draw in it’s audience to the same extent as the print version, due to the expectation that online media consumers will simply scan through the key points and move on.
I have also noticed relevance in the accompanying images. In the print article the story is surrounded by pictures of defeated-looking childless couples, whereas online has no image at all, assumedly due to the fact that the pictures being used for the print article would be somewhat out of place accompanying the more scientifically-focused version.
Physically, the paragraphs are much shorter in the online article, comprising of only one or two short sentences at a time. Again highlighting the somewhat hyper active needs of today’s online consumer culture when compared to the print article. Similarly, the online version is separated into pages, each with a vaguely satisfying conclusion, giving readers the option to read deeper into the story, or just move on with the information they have already gained, whereas the print article is, naturally, all together.
Sources:
- Original Article: http://www.coventrytelegraph.net/news/coventry-news/2010/01/18/ivf-couples-cheated-out-of-having-children-92746-25625670/ (as accessed 18/1/2010)
- Image found at: http://images.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http://i.telegraph.co.uk/telegraph/multimedia/archive/01217/IVF_jpg_1217221c.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.telegraph.co.uk/health/healthnews/5159380/Fertility-treatment-doubles-in-15-years.html&usg=__aqYAlepx7PxidJss3m9c9OefYwU=&h=288&w=460&sz=17&hl=en&start=2&itbs=1&tbnid=Qb6leyVg8aUxAM:&tbnh=80&tbnw=128&prev=/images%3Fq%3DIVF%2Btreatment%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DG%26gbv%3D2%26tbs%3Disch:1 (as accessed 18/1/2010)
Recently I shared this story with a good friend of mine and it resonated around the lives of several of my friend’s lives right now, so I thought I would share it on here, partly to possibly help others and partly to remind myself where I was several years ago!
My mother’s birthday was always a special occasion and every year my ex-boyfriend and I would do something for her; typically staying overnight in a casino near Louisville, her choice for a birthday adventure. On the day of her last birthday, my ex and I got into a horrible fight just minutes before going to my mom’s house. It’s important to understand that at this point in my life, I was frustrated with several different levels of my life including my relationship, my job and the overall quality of my life.
After reaching my mother’s house, my ex decided he was not going to spend the day with us, due to our fight, so my mom and I headed off to go shopping at the outlet mall and then head down to the casino to spend the day gambling and drinking fountain cokes. I think if you live in Indiana it’s a right of passage, once you reach 60, to spend several weekends a year, sitting at a slot machine, drinking cokes and smoking cigarettes, praying for a big win. Although my mom prided herself in being a woman who would never fit this definition, secretly, she enjoyed sitting there watching cherries come up instead of three sevens, hoping to hit a few thousand. Instead, she’d pull a ticket out for $30 stating that she would buy us breakfast the next morning.
Needless to say, my mother, who loved my ex dearly, didn’t understand why we were fighting and why he didn’t want to come with us. I tried to explain to her that I was frustrated with several aspects of my life and that he and I had been arguing a lot recently and I had been thinking seriously if I was in a healthy relationship. I explained that I needed passion and desire in my life and that maybe we had let the problems take over the good parts of the relationship and it was long over due for us to go our separate ways. I explained that, although I loved him dearly, I thought maybe we each deserved something better in our lives.
Now, you would have had to know my mother, who had an opinion on every topic from oriental literature to Trip to Bountiful being the greatest movie next to To Kill a Mockingbird. She rarely knew silence and often, she drove people crazy with her incessant talk; a trait I believe she passed down to me. When, on rare occasions, she sat in silence, it was almost as if you could feel her mind ticking, profound wisdom about to pass from her lips. And then it came…almost like a whisper.
“Be very careful. Weeds grow fast in a garden.” She said.
And I sat there, not entirely sure what she meant by this statement.
“Our lives are like beautiful gardens which need watering and special care. If you aren’t careful, and you let the weeds of negativity begin to take over; all you see is a garden of dandelions. And sometimes, you start convincing yourself the dandelions are a more beautiful sight than the garden itself.”
And that, my dear friends, is exactly what happened in my life. And looking back, I don’t regret it. No, I’m a believer that everything that happens in life happens for a reason. That we are on some great journey with several guides and teachers along the way. But I do believe that we can pick the weeds so we careful to make sure and see the beauty we have in our lives. And maybe at the time, I just wanted a different garden. And that’s exactly what I got.
But is that for everyone? I love my life now, but if at the time I had been more careful, I think I could have saved some of myself and repaired that garden. I don’t think that’s what was supposed to happen, but for anyone whose unsure…your garden can be saved…just make sure you get out there and pick the weeds.
Luckily, I came out on the other side, tangled in a new, amazingly beautiful garden of lilies and daisies, spinning and spinning in the sunshine. But all around me, I see my friends tangled up in weeds, unable to break free and I wonder, if maybe they started picking away, one by one, they might have the beauty I enjoy every day…
But be careful. Because if all you see is the weeds, you miss out on the beauty that may already exist. And that would be a shame…
Because after all…we’re on borrowed time as it is…
The Oklahoma Court of Civil Appeals has said “no” to a lesbian divorce.