Breathing (Human Sacrifice, 2 of 3)

Unfortunately the story of religious sacrifice isn’t always as benign as dietary restrictions.

A while ago I watched a documentary on the Jonestown tragedy (to head off trouble, I’m not saying Jones’ church is the same sort of creature as any mainline church, Muslim, LDS, or otherwise; it’s a very extreme case and chosen to the other extreme when compared to my first example). For those who don’t remember, this was a religious community led by Jim Jones. He eventually moved his congregation to Guyana. From there a congressman along with a group of reporters and concerned family visited Jonestown. Some were murdered on Jones’ orders.

Here you can listen Jones explain what’s to be done next, and I think all adults should. A warning: it’s emotionally difficult.

To Mr. Jones (or at least his followers), God had told him US troops were on their way to kill everyone, and he, “speaking as a prophet,” told his followers in order to conquer death and the enemies of good, they had to willingly sacrifice their life, “just like Jesus.” A lone woman, Christina, can be heard protesting in this recording, particularly “for the babies.” She makes her case, and it brought me to tears, but she is powerless in the face of the group’s unflinching faith. As happens so many times under questioning, she’s told she just has to trust. And how can she argue? God gives commandments and humans should follow. She’s even shouted down by fellow believers. Get that? People actually argue with her as to why they should kill themselves and their children.

In the end over 900 people were dead. Some adults were forced to take in poison. Some fed it to their children. But many just put it to their lips willingly.

There really aren’t words to adequately qualify such an event; it’s one of those pits of thought. I’d imagine this degree of unshakable, propelling faith in a religion is alien to most in the modern world (well, in the west). To me, it should speak to the false nature of that belief. In my experience, it’s not truth that’ll ask you for such a show of strong belief. Truth doesn’t care to be safe from objective investigation; it welcomes doubt and is steadfast for your belief or none at all. But for some I’m sure the sort of conviction shown by Jones’ followers was attractive (before the end). It’s a well known sort of human reflex, to take surrounding human’s conviction as evidence, and it often works to reasonable ends in mundane life, though an advertiser here and there may abuse it (They call the tool “Social Proof” ).

The thing that haunts me with this event is that I can’t blow this off as a 100% group of nuts. There were a lot of bodies, in the end. Undoubtedly, there were many intelligent people among them, and it would be a huge mistake to write them all off as crazed or dimwitted. In fact, intelligence, like any human tool, is there at the mercy of the will; it will work towards what you want, not necessarily what is right or rational. It is a common error of most people to assume those who believe false faiths do so for stupidity. Most often it is actually their significant intelligence that helps them remain recalcitrant. Without it they’d never find those the loopholes of empiricism, construct the necessary self-mystifications, or be able to talk others into following. These people had their faith, it gave them their reasons, and they applied their intelligence to decide they were doing good, well-intentioned work of God.

What’s worse is that Jonestown is nothing in comparison to what’s occurred in human history. There have been centuries of willing (and forced) human sacrifice for ideas, hopes, promises that never come true, from the crusades to those events involving religions only an archeologists would now remember. People even give all for faith in extraterrestrials. The intricacy, certainty, and conviction in such thinking is astounding on one level, but all too human on another, a potential that sits in all of us and of which I’m sure we’ve not seen the end.

The above example of religious sacrifice is the other extreme, in contrast to the first example. Of course, I can’t justify getting in the way of dietary restrictions; I don’t even want to. Such sacrifice is not near my business. On the other hand, I do feel obligated to get in the way of the sort of sacrifice for faith in this post. It can be as indiscriminate a killer as a bomb in a crowd. Respect for religion and personal conviction be damned. I’ll get in the way if I can. I can’t sit back and let people use the tools of faith to take lives, even if it’s only suicide. I’d attack that religion and its leaders, forcefully and publically. Is that wrong? Is that intolerant, or totalitarian even?

I do know Christina, in that tape, is among the people I know next to nothing about but respect. I’ve thought about her often since I first heard that recording. She should have gone further, shown more opposition. She should have called her fellow followers to reason, and said what we all know she’d realized but didn’t say: that their faith was wrong here. Nevertheless, she showed a lot of courage to buck social proof and challenge her community. Jones says how much he appreciates her; of course, he “likes an agitator” because she shows them “both sides of the issue.” He pretends to promote free will and to have nothing to fear in her questioning, but I have to hope, given enough time, given enough reasoning, he would have something to fear, and Christina could have saved many lives with a bit more disrespect for the beliefs of those living them.

Okay, there are the two extremes, and I react differently to both. It may seem that the answer is simple, but what if it’s not drinking poison? What if it’s refusing a blood transfusion for a faith? There is a gradient, not a step, all the way back to the bacon. So how to decide what to do in the middle; that’s what I’m hoping to work out next.

Yes, I know such posts get too long, but they're mainly for working things out for myself :-). I'll be done soon.

Bacon (Human Sacrifice, 1 of 3)

One of my friends is a conservative Muslim. We met volunteering for the same organization and hit it off right from the start; in fact, as unlikely friends we would be, I’d say we get along better than any other two people in this organization. Sure, some topics are probably no use for us to enter, but we share a work ethic and many common values and, together, have accomplished much beyond those communities that’d claim us. She is, in fact, my bad cop.

This friend wears full dress, even in July. I’ve never seen her hair, and she never shakes the hand of a man, even a gay one :-). In fact I have to watch myself that I don’t inadvertently, say, tap her on the shoulder when I want to get her attention. Often we’re fed by the organization for which we volunteer, but even if, say, ham is adjacent to an acceptable sandwich on a deli plate, she’d not touch it; she’ll go hungry all day. I hate to watch her do that, but that’s what she gives up for her faith.

Now, I’ve read the Koran a couple times. I’ve found it to be an amazing work, particularly considering its purported origins, and I could certainly say I found and felt the glinting strands of inspiration, truth, and morality running through it, as I do in every religious text I’ve read. But I’m not a Muslim, and, as any non-Muslim would, I think for good reason. While she feels she has had some personal, confirming experience with her God, and, while I’d take her word on most things, I don’t believe it here. Not near that she is dishonest--no way--she’s amongst the most honest, intelligent, and dependable people I know. I’m sure she feels something; I’m near sure everyone who makes such sacrifices does. I also personally know how you can cause yourself to feel something, and how easy it is to motivate oneself and inadvertently color one’s memory when the stakes are as high as eternity and fate has placed you in any tradition of faith.

I, in my tradition, have had many a ham sandwich and I have zero moral qualms for that fact. I’d even say placing such sacrifices into the realm of morality is morally wrong. It weakens the entire body of ethics, and it gets me upset to think of the ulterior reasons some manipulate people’s hope to do good with what, to me, are rules there to support a human organization, not morality or God. To play with such can be useful for leaders, but it can do a lot of unintended harm. In fact, I’d wager falsely calling something or some group evil has caused far more human tragedy than falsely calling something good.

Humans do naturally develop a deep and important sense of fairness (ask any 5-year-old ;-)). It’s vital to our everyday life as a social species, and most feel it deeply. We can even image the areas of our brain that work out such morality. And it motivates; following rules and exercising self control can, ironically, feel good, as it plays off this sense of morality, even if the sacrifice isn’t based in moral reasoning.

Leaders and organizations, secular and religious, use these tools in the morality kit all the time for reasons that have nothing to do with right or wrong, consciously or not. They build group unity and identity, separate people culturally from the influence of those not in the organization, increase group numbers (typically with sex laws), and make members feel good about being a member for abstaining from even false evils, particularly with the idea of pleasing God and/or receiving reward. To me, it’s for such reasons some organizations mix stuff like “don’t wear linen with wool” in with “don’t murder.”

Here, though and gratefully, with my Muslim friend we’re talking about ham, headscarves, and handshakes. While she sacrifices more for her faith than most (you should see her by the end of Ramadan!), she’s not hurting anyone and it’s none of my business. It’s simply far from liberation to tear the headscarf from someone choosing to wear it and free to leave it off; it’s nearer assault.

Furthermore, my ham-philia and homosexuality somehow aren’t an issue for her; nor has it gotten in the way of our friendship. I don’t know if such was an issue before our friendship or if she harbors some “hate the sin” reasoning and I don’t care to, but she’ll support equal rights for my family, if not call it supernaturally equal. The consequences of what, to her, are serious commandments about her behavior, sex, food, and dress, straight from God, delivered by His prophet, are just not that pressing for her neighbors… As long as she doesn’t try to pass some sort of Defense of Meat Act (DOMA) to put her religious belief about ideal meals into her neighbor’s kitchen.

I certainly do feel and should say that I find her guiding moral here wrong, in my own life, and eroding to morality on whole. But hey, she thinks I eat abominably; I’ll call it even. In considering her life, though, I have to look at it a bit differently. I can’t keep how I regard those few ethics of hers that concern me in mind when I love so much else about her. Her sincerity, strong testimony, and, of course, friendship make those rules important and serious to me too. I’ll tell her if I saw a slice of ham near her sandwich. I’d even take that bullet and eat it for her :-).

End of part 1 of 3. I’ll work my way to a point, eventually.

Miscellaneous

--Rob’s dad stayed with us and offered to watch the boys. Once we got them to bed we went and caught I Am Legend. To admit to my inner sissy, I would have sat on Rob’s lap through the entire thing if I could have, and I’m sure I grabbed him too tight a couple times. It’s been years since I’ve seen a horror movie, aside from Doogal, which the boys suggested. I enjoyed it much more than I expected, despite jumping all over the place. The whole notion of a zombie of any sort really gets to me on a gut level, the familiar and loved turning on you and such (don’t even get me started on the dog… I’ve been a sucker for such since Old Yeller). Will Smith ain’t bad either ;-).

--I opened Brian’s closet to put some clothes away and stumbled upon this:
A group of picnicking stuffed animals, each with a cup of water, or more. I love these kinds of messes.

--I noticed the fruit dryer on last Friday and thought, “Great, I love Rob’s apple chips.” But I came to find that none of it was for my stomach. He was drying citrus fruit to use as decorations for our presents… to match our citrus fruit themed tree…
Yes, we are, indeed, gay.

--Seems MoHo, Todd, won Survivor. Sneaky and scheming, and I wonder how his actions might reflect on gays and Mormons alike, but that was what he was supposed to do, right? Sneak, lie, and scheme... Congratulations, then.

--I realized one more parental mistake. I started counting over the weekend to three with no idea what I’d do if I actually reached it. Thank goodness it’s so effective :-).

--We went to Rob's family Christmas party. I love his family. There's still that one uncle, though, who gives me dirty looks and has never said hi. Now that's dedication; it's been 15 years!

--We went to another Christmas party (tis the season):

And of all the people I could have ran into I saw this guy again, one of the two people with whom I’ve ever been physically forceful. He must have been out of prison for a while now, as he had a daughter, about a year old. I hope the personal demon that put away for so long is well behind him.

We just said hi. That’s it; no strong emotions left in either of us about the other I guess. Funny how your history means so much less to you once you become someone’s parent. It’s like it all was about someone else :-).

The Sins of This Father

After that last post I kind of worry I talked myself up too much as a parent :-). I think I’ll take a bit of Mr. Fob’s example and give a couple parental confessions a shot.

1. More than once but not more than five times I’ve answered “Because I told you to.” In response to “Why?” I promised myself I’d never use such a non-answer with our boys, and it used to grate on me when I heard other parents use it… but, beyond the tenth level of why’s after I ask them to do something, promises to self get broken. It will never happen again, I promise.

2. Twice I’ve brushed one of my son’s teeth with the other’s toothbrush. Yes, my heart sunk too when I realized it. Of course, I’ve no good defense for this one. There are simply those occasional nights when bed time can be what one might imagine it’d be like to go into the jungle, chase down and restrain a wild chimp, cajole it into Sponge Bob pajamas, and hope for it to calm down while you read it a story. Add to that the dim light of bedtime and I hope, boys, if you’re reading this in horror as an adult, you’ll give a modicum of forgiveness to your pop.

3. I ate some, only some of their candy after they went to bed last Halloween, and never got caught.

4. I taught them what the speed limit is and how to read the digital speedometer on our car. This may not sound bad; I know I didn’t anticipate any problems. Now, though, every time I go even a mile per hour over what’s posted, I make them think their father is turning to a life of crime. How to explain “But everybody does it, everybody goes about 5 over!” to your kids? You think about the teen years and you don’t. That’s how. Now I’m stuck by fear of guilt at exactly the speed limit, as I probably should be; parents be warned.

5. There have been times I’ve hurt my children by assuming they understood something on my level when I should have known they only heard it on their level. For example, our boys did pre-school three days a week, half-day. Kindergarten, though, is all day, and that’s how I phrased it, “all day.” First day of kindergarten, I found Brian crying, and he wouldn’t tell me why. After some talking he let out that he was sad because, in his mind, he’d not be home until bed time. When he understood that “all day” just meant he’d be at school for lunch and two more hours, he was fine, but my heart broke to think he imagined that’s what we wanted or were asking.

6. In one of our home videos I reversed the frames so that it looks like they’re sliding up a slide. When last at that same playground, Brian was trying to remember how he did that, slide up a slide. I thought it was so cute that I didn’t relieve him of his confusion. My excuse was that I want him to figure such out for himself, but to see him experiment at the bottom of that slide… well, I admit I was more motivated by the cuteness than imparting any lesson about magic or physics, contrary to my parenting policy on such. .

7. I have accused one son for something the other did. Okay, yes, sometime’s I’m not a great detective when I find a crime scene in the home, and face two suspects refusing to fess up. I have been fooled by circumstantial evidence. I feel horrible to have put one kid in the position of defending himself from false accusations, not to mention letting the other feel they can get off scot-free that way. Once, they even got heat for a mess I made; I did, though, confess. I’m grateful they seem to have begun to take responsibility more readily, but I am very sorry for those couple instances.

I’m sure there are others ways in which I’ve fallen short. I hate to think on some of the more serious of those above (though, sure, I don’t have much penitence for, say, eating their candy). Every parent is probably bothered that they’re not the perfect parent. Nevertheless, no one is, and I’d hate to have a parent who thought they were.

Simply, in defending my family’s right to be and have equal treatment, I hope to never give the impression that I think we do everything right as parents. Like most any parents, we may do an overall good job for our children, but we fail at times too, and still have much to learn with each new phase of their lives. I wish we could do so without the added scrutiny, without feeling like we have to be twice as good as average to be considered equal, but it is what it is.

Children Need a Mom and a Dad

To be plain about it, our children do not have a mother. For that, many argue our family shouldn’t be.

As our boys well understand, there is, of course, a woman who carried them, and took care of them for the months before their birth. I love her like a sister, the children know her, and know our deep gratitude. We have a special name for her, but a ‘mother,’ to us, is a woman who parents you, who is emotionally tied to you, and, while many will want to say that, of course, our children have a mother, focusing on the biology, we reserve that word for those women who do the work of parenting. The reason should be more than evident to any adopted child, or any child, really, who takes the time to wonder what’s important in their relationship with their parents.

The detractors of our families are not stupid, though. Most people are raised by heterosexual couples and feel strongly for their parents. Our opponents apply a slight trick of vocabulary and emotion and this argument becomes one of the most effective they have. I’d bet even a lot of folks reading this, when they read that first sentence, cringed somewhere inside, and some even became morally incensed, for their reflexive extrapolation of their familial feelings into our home. I’ve got no problem with such reflex, as long as it doesn't end there. Heck, I love my mom too, and am sure my life’s quality would have been greatly diminished without her.

But it’s not just a mom, a woman I love, right? I love my mom. I love my particular parents. When you think on it beyond the superficial, it’s clear what we love about our parents is not their anatomy, or genes, not the ‘M’ or ‘F’ on their birth certificates. We love the people they are, their parenting. We’ve a whole tomb of loving history to back up our strong feelings about ‘mom’ and ‘dad,’ beginning even before our memory, in places where baby books can only testify. We love every patched scrape, every late night they worked for us or paced in an emergency room. We love every encouragement to go beyond ourselves, every hug, smile, and lesson imparted. Though no child cares from what anatomical shape all those experiences come, the words ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ still become infused with wonderful feelings by the association.

Our detractors, as low as it strikes me, try to turn those emotions into a weapon, to imply something that is false about our family. The implication being that only moms mother and only dads father, and so our children are only half parented, missing half all those many experiences. The implication is, for example, that when our boys fall down and scrape a knee that we both, both being their 1950’s stereotype of a father, turn to their teary faces and tell them to stop bawling; be a man.

I think, though, most modern humans would admit they parent for their child’s needs, aiming to make them moral, healthy, and happy individuals. Most fathers mother, at times, and most mothers father, when needed. Being a parent of twins, a necessity to parent in a way unique to each child is even more striking. I know my one son responds best to a gentle touch; the other is more rough and tumble. If treated with the same parenting stereotype of mothering or fathering I’d be doing both a disservice. So when they’re hurt, we comfort them, and when they’re crying in forced drama, we encourage them to get back on the horse. Our parenting, just as it is in any other home, is a balance of the notions behind mothering and fathering, though never perfect (but if you think you do a perfect job as a parent, you're doing it wrong ;-)).

I’m reminded here of my Aunt Beanie, a very old woman who’s lost that part of the mind that would censor her younger self. After about 6 months of our children’s lives, she complained to my mom that, if anything, we “mother them too much.” She felt we kept them too close, and didn’t insist enough they “soothe themselves.” That was how they mothered in her generation. By today’s standards she’d be a very masculine parent. Heck, many of the kids back then, in the golden age of “the family,” were raised by their siblings, particularly here in Utah. I just find it funny that the only criticism of our parenting we’ve received from those who actually know us is that we mother too much :-).

It’s also bit comical that the folks who’ll deride gay men as unfit to be parents for their inability to do the traditional jobs of mothers are the same people who’ll complain about gay men being too feminine. One of the best things about being gay is being let go from those artificial gender rules. You can more easily do what you're innately best at, regardless of what's traditionally in your gender, and this carries over into our homes. Some lesbian moms can teach their kids how to through a curve ball better than any man, and some gay men make better cookies than the most domestic matriarch. We are lucky to have this freedom to more easily do what we're best at for our family, even if at the price of some alienation.

Personally, we have one of the best homemakers I’ve known, my Rob. In all, I have to conclude that it’s not really our actions of parenting, or our children's happiness about which our opponents are concerned; it’s about maintaining their stereotypes and superstitions about what it means to be gay, or a man, or a woman.

On this topic, it’s typically also stated that our children suffer from merely having little influence or example from adult females, and thus they won’t know how to build a family. In a way, with Rob as a stay at home parent and with our great involvement of extended family, it seems to me we’ve a better example of a traditional family than most around here. Furthermore, it's not like our family is a no-estrogen zone. Our kids spend much of their day with their female teachers and friends, almost every day they see their grandparents, and there’s an aunt or niece at our home almost as often . In short I’d say they’ve more access to examples of diversity in human sex, race, and family types than most kids in Utah. We’ve been sure of that

It’s not like they’ll hit puberty and have no idea how to treat or court a woman, or have no close female they could, if they felt it necessary for any reason, turn to for personal advice. Nevertheless, as a guy who’s been chaste and kept a strong union for well over a decade, I don’t feel abnormally unqualified to teach my children about what it means to court, love, cherish, and respect either a man or a woman, towards whichever their orientation may point. I know I learned much from my parents that’s been applied to our home (I also know most of those who use this argument offer their gay children far worse than no example, without a moral flinch).

And hey, as a bonus, the woman who marries one of our boys will get a man who knows work, at home and in the office, can be shared. Unlike some of the men in our family, they’ll know it is actually possible for a man to do his fair part with the cooking and laundry :-).

Finally here, a typical gay marriage opponent will resort to a variant of something like: “So you’re saying that mothers are disposable then?!!” Yes, that’s what I’m saying… Let’s get rid of mothers. My kids don’t have a sister either; so I advocate getting rid of them too, right? Sheesh! Does this mean the Catholics I’ve encountered using this argument by logical extension believe non-catholic parents are disposable as well?

To be clear, no one is saying that mothers or fathers are disposable; quite the contrary. I’ve never met a gay man or woman who’s had anything bad to say about mothers or fathers in general, or the institute of traditional marriage. It is simply politically effective for our opponents to use such hysterics, again playing on the emotions behind ‘mom’ and ‘dad.’ Ironic, though, that it is these same people who are arguing that either Rob or I should have been replaced to make their idea of ideal. It’s as though, to protect “the children,” they’re willing to ignore the reality of their attachments and needs of our children. No, the same strong emotions that make this argument effective for some are present in our home too, and deserve respect as well. Parents are vital, indispensable, and it’s tragic when they’re lost. But every child needs their particular family, the people bound to them emotionally and obligated to them as parents. No one else will do for my children; no one else will do for your children.

Nielsen on Romney

I couldn’t and didn’t say it better myself.

Jeffrey Nielsen’s take on Romney’s speech.

He makes me want to fill a plastic bag with cheerios and head off to sacrament meeting today.

Romney’s Faith in America

I know that many here probably like Romney, a lot (some, considering the gay + LDS thing, may even love him ;-)). I caught his speech yesterday, though, and am motivated to blog on the matter. Though I know it was meant for very conservative early primary voters, I was expecting something else, and was quite surprised at the content.

Here’s a link to the text of the speech, “Faith in America.”

“And we are troubled at home by government overspending, overuse of foreign oil, and the breakdown of the family.”

Let me get the Romney-gay rights stuff out of the way first… :-)

I’m all for cutting government spending, getting off oil, and supporting families. I just wish he meant what he said. We may see if he does on spending and oil, but that last bit is clear code. Sure, “the family,” as defined by Romney took a hit when women gained the power to more easily leave their husbands. But divorce rates have been steadily declining for over 2 decades; teen pregnancy has been on the decline for a while as well. In fact, no one I know is attacking the family, or man-woman marriage; most everyone thinks such is amongst the most precious institutions of human life.

It should be clear to all that he is referring to his record of attacking our families, those headed by gays and lesbians, not defending from any breakdown. I’m sure the writer of the speech was counting on that to be clear to the religious right. The two topics are already tied on the Romney site.

I don’t think I’ll ever get over the brazen use of such Orwellian doublespeak. Defending “the family” means attacking families. Those who are "anti-marriage," are advocating marriage. Protecting “the children” means keeping children’s parents from legal responsibilities, and making them pay more in taxes, health insurance, and encouraging them to use welfare and put the kids in daycare (1, 2). Really? People are buying this, or do they really deep down know it’s a poor sound bite of an excuse to treat people in a way you’d not want to be treated?

Romney's excuse is the standard “Ideal Family” argument. I went over that in great detail in these posts. In the end it’s that he thinks it’s best for our children to have different parents (never mind that we could say that of more than half of all kids ;-); no one has an “ideal” home). While children do need mothering and fathering, he argues they need a mother and a father and hopes prejudice will assume the rest: that men don’t, say, nurture and women don’t push. It’s a cheap trick of vocabulary meant to tug on the emotions most of us associate with mom and dad, despite the fact that those emotions, along with mothering, and fathering all go on in the homes of gays and lesbians.

But even if Romney is right here, and the government’s position should be that our children should have different parents, it still makes no sense. It’s somehow better for our “deprived” children if the people raising them are not legally responsible to each other, and are encouraged to place them in daycare and so on? Wouldn’t legal marriage make Romney’s bad situation for them better? Isn’t that why “pro-family” folks decry out-of-wedlock births, because marriage stabilizes a child’s home? Or is it just a façade of an argument, meant to hide the sort of intolerance the man holds, and yet is also hoping to quell in others with this speech?

“Freedom requires religion just as religion requires freedom. Freedom opens the windows of the soul so that man can discover his most profound beliefs and commune with God. Freedom and religion endure together, or perish alone.”

When I heard this, along with the bit that the Constitution was meant for religious people, I was surprised. This is, after all, supposed to be a speech about religious tolerance. I know many atheists, my dad for one, and they are amongst the most principled individuals you could meet. They are so because they value morality, no hope for reward or fear of punishment, no means to absolve themselves of past sins either. If asked who would be the least risk to do harm with his freedom, the man who does right because he loves right, or the man who does so under want of reward, I think most would take the first man any day. Nevertheless, Romney apparently thinks differently and this comes off as a threat to both atheists and agnostics. Consider how you’d react if your President stated that, for your religious ideas, you can’t be trusted to sustain freedom, or that the constitution wasn’t meant for you.

Still, I bet there’ll be little fuss over this in his party, and it will help him in the primaries. Though, in the US there are about 3 to 5 times more nontheists than LDS, almost 75% of republicans say they’re less likely to vote for an atheist and only 28% are less likely to vote for a Mormon (link). How’s that for a religious test?

I suppose, such shouldn’t be a surprise. Minorities, once they begin to take a place in the majority, often show the same low tolerance they once experienced. I don’t mean to say this is the case for the LDS as a whole; it happens in parts of the gay community too.

“Americans tire of those who would jettison their beliefs, even to gain the world.”

More code, but hey, I know I’m absolutely exhausted by such people too, Mr. I’d be “better for gay rights than Ted Kennedy” in the 90's :-).

“They seek to remove from the public domain any acknowledgment of God. Religion is seen as merely a private affair with no place in public life. It is as if they are intent on establishing a new religion in America - the religion of secularism. They are wrong.”

Thank goodness such bogymen don’t exist, then, or at least that such folks are so small in number that I’ve never encountered one. They are so bad that the mere idea of them gets the troupes to the polls, right? Everyone I know, though, is just fine with public displays of faith and acknowledgements of Gods. The problem comes when you ask your neighbor to pay for your religion, when you ask a Baptist to, say, pay for a granite statue of the Buddha in the public square.

Here in Utah we just had a fight over a Ten Commandments monument a while back, and the government eventually won the right to keep it on public land, and that’s fine by me. We paid only for the land, and I’m a sucker for monuments. But then the local Summums came in and wanted their monument of the Seven Aphorisms in the same area, and guess who fought of that? They were fueled by religious intolerance, but not from the dreaded secularist war machine.

“We should acknowledge the Creator as did the Founders - in ceremony and word. He should remain on our currency, in our pledge, in the teaching of our history, and during the holiday season, nativity scenes and menorahs should be welcome in our public places.”

It is best to acknowledge what or who created you, be you Christian, Hindu, or even Atheist. But for the record, as far as I can tell, the founders didn’t put statements of faith on our currency (more irony, God on Mammon :-)), nor did they put it in our pledge. All that was added later.

I'd watch it on the Founders. I mean, have you ever read the derogatory things Thomas Paine wrote about the Bible in the Age or Reason? Heck, Thomas Jefferson took the bible and removed all the supernatural events and republished it. He also wrote:

“That Jesus did not mean to impose himself on mankind as the son of God, physically speaking, I have been convinced by the writings of men more learned than myself in that lore. But that he might conscientiously believe himself inspired from above, is very possible.”

Believed? Possible? Can you imagine if Romney rewrote the Bible, or said that instead of what he said yesterday?

If you don’t get elected, Romney, it may be some comfort that Jefferson would more likely be burned in effigy over a pile of Paine’s books on the campus of Bob Jones University than be reelected these days. That’s religious tolerance today; our 3rd President would probably not get a tenth of either party’s vote.

“I'm not sure that we fully appreciate the profound implications of our tradition of religious liberty”

That makes two of us.

Okay, it’s nice to get that off my chest. I hope I wasn’t too inflammatory, but please, this was a speech on religious tolerance, right?!

Eh, at least I know I’m manlier than Mitt. ;-)

And hey, once I find the candidate that meets my requirements, you can all pick on him or her (not an endorsement of Hillary) too. Don't hold your breath.

Christmas and Very Local Politics

Last night, as we do every year, we took the boys out separately to shop for Christmas presents. Brian went with Rob this time and Alan with me. Every time we separate them it means, without fail, whoever is with Alan will be eating at the Training Table while the other will be eating at Noodles and Company. No offence to Brian’s tastes, but I much prefer the cheese fries, and a #24.

Anyway, while driving to dinner, I had a podcast on of a npr story on about poverty in South Africa. Alan was listening with interest and, once we sat down he began asking all sorts of questions. Do they have a bathroom? A bedroom? Why don’t they have food? And so on. As our experience with volunteerism has shown in the past, they are both already, to my great joy, quick to feel concern for others.

The program had talked about the government’s inefficacy in dealing with some of the problems and finally Alan asked, “Do they have a president?” I guess he was wondering why no one was helping them.

I explained a simple version of South African History and politics, to the extent that I understood it. I talked about how lucky we are to live where we do and so on (though, ironically, South Africa does recognize gay unions).

He then asked if George Washington was our president. I smiled and told him no and then paused to think how to introduce George W. Bush without giving him credit for keeping our family from such poverty, when the man has done a good deal to keep us as second class citizens. To be honest, we haven’t really talked as much as we probably should about politics with them for the complex issues it brings up for our family.

In the pause, though, Alan asked, “Is Daddy the president?”

I’m sure my chuckle was too loud. I told him “No, he’s too busy being your Daddy.” but I wanted to say “Yes, of our home, daddy is president. But I’m the legislative and judicial branch ;-).” Rob was touched Alan thought he's responsible for our running water, and plentiful chests of toys, not to mention food, such as cheese fries, but I couldn’t give him all that credit.

For Mr. President, Alan ended up buying a CD of Brahms piano concertos. He had to listen to many tracks at Barns and Nobel before picking the right CD; it was cute. For his brother, he got a puzzle and a spirograph (two things I loved as a kid, but I swear I did not exhort undue influence). No worries, neither Rob or Brian read the blogs :-).

From me Mr. President will be getting, of all things, a vacuum. I know, how 1950’s male chauvinist of me, in some weird alternative gay 1950’s universe. It’s what he asked for though, I swear, and it’s a really cool robot vacuum. Besides, all that was on my list was a car recharger for my ipod.

ForeSite

Hey, didn’t I say a long while ago that I was going to put up a site? Wasn’t I almost ready to publish it? :-)

Okay, yes. So why not, one imaginably could ask?

Well, the software I was using was the trial version, and it expired just before I was going to publish. I thought I’d just buy the real deal when it expired, and keep at it, but I kept putting it off, forgetting it every time I was at a software store. I realized, though, I had been putting it off purposefully as well.

My last site was a lot of fun at start, and it was fulfilling to get letters telling me I’d helped or humored, but it ultimately left me with a bad taste. Sure, it became contentious and a chore, at times, and that’s tolerable. It climaxed, though, in threats to my life from some pretty nasty regions of the homophobes. I’m sure that this blog could become a similar problem, but it’s not the same. That site was getting orders of magnitude more traffic.

I now realize, while I very much want a venue where I could have a more substantial voice than this tiny internet corner allows, I guess I’m a bit gun shy now. It embarrasses me to write that. I used to enjoy the fight. But then the kids came, and everything changed. I’m comfortable now to check my e-mail without the expectation of threats or profanity. It’s no longer exciting to see a poor argument coming at me, just begging to be humiliated; it can mean a threat to my home. However, that cuts both ways. To defend us I have to be out there and speak up too. I have to try to do something.

So I’m left wondering how to balance that? Pawning it off on someone else sounds good ;-). I’ve been busy with a lot of other time-demanding work, but I hope to eventually organize a couple people who are where I was before our boys were born. I don’t want to and don’t have the time anymore to manage a big site, and it can take a lot of time to do it right, but I’ve much research collected, essays (and screeds ;-)) written, and would love to put it all up again, not to mention some pages that were substantial traffic draws though had nothing to do with gay issues. Maybe when the primaries are over I’ll be able to talk some of the younger gays from our community to take on such a horrible task ;-).

Snow

I know I said I’d take a break, for Paul :-), but this post will have no comment-worthy material. It’s just; it was a great weekend.

We got our tree up on Friday. On Saturday we had a big snowstorm, and we took that as the sign to stay home and decorate. The kids worked on the bottom 4 ft of the tree while Rob and I put on the lights. Then, once the bottom was overburdened, I took them out to play in the new snow while Rob finished up.
It’s funny how some of the best feelings of your childhood get lost in places from which only your children can retrieve them. Anybody else remember this feeling?
Falling back into that tempting cushion of fresh snow, soon to be an angel… Or this one:
Slipping on a trampoline with the weight of a foot of powder jumping with you… Or this one:
The perfect quiet you seem to only find now in the dampening effects in a mass of snow covered trees.

Oh, and what about this one, poor guy:
Here, that deserves a closer look:
Ain’t he cute? Okay, not as cute as when he was a pup, but the spheres of snow firmly packed into his fur help.

Then, that night, we had our formal family party, where it’s just my parents and my siblings (the big one, with all the grandkids, is later in the month). Though, with some, we do indeed have our differences, I do love my siblings and enjoy being around them.

Finally, this may sound odd and crude, and it is, but it was a good, unexpected cap to the weekend. At Sunday family dinner my dad taped a… umm… remote controlled flatulence sound producer to the bottom of my niece’s chair, and gave the remote to our Allan, who, amazingly, didn’t let us on to the joke, and held off tripping it until she was well into her meal. My sophomoric sides were hurting... You had to be there, I guess. We're quite different, but I love my dad's humor.

Also good, there’s no sign of coyote in the snow this morning at our place, yet. Though, at my parents, we could see where two of them were following a deer; Ultima, you’re safe for now.

I'm in a Sad State

Once again Utah is top in the nation in depression. We’re 51st even… Did we finally liberate the great state of Canada? North Montana now? ;-)

Utah, why you so down, baby? You’ve got great mountains, beautiful national parks, and a huge lake. Sure, it’s one part stagnant salt water and two parts rotting brine shrimp, but it’s huge and attractive, from orbit. According to Bart Simpson, you’re the home of America’s most powerful weirdoes, and we even just convicted one. What more could you want? Is it because our state song is so, um… I very much regret ‘gay’ is the most descriptive word for it (see for yourself: I dare you to disagree. The old one was much better)? Is it that your state bird is the California Gull? We can change all that, dear. Chin up.

Okay, depression isn’t funny, but I don’t really know what to do when I see it and light-heartedness is my fallback position.

So what is wrong with us? Something in the water? The culture? That radiating, mind-altering meteorite buried deep below Provo? Sure, we have a low number of psychiatrists, but why aren’t our depressed folks pumping up the demand for more? Nevertheless, we already spend near the national average per person on mental health here. So why are there so many depressed in Utah in the first place?

It’s personally confusing. I know Utah can make me tense and anxious at certain times, and I know there are days I want to leave for friendlier politics. But this is a response to times when our legislature and local culture aim at my family and gay rights (something most Utahns don’t face, else I’d have Rob on my health insurance already). Sure, that puts me on edge, and makes us have to work harder here than we would elsewhere, but, even under those circumstances, never depressed. Heck, we moved back here because we love it here and we stay because we’re happy here. Utah really is "a pretty great state", really (If only I could afford to relocate all our family, friends, and national parks… ;-)). Apparently, though, I walk our streets with a bunch of sad folks.

It also seems we’re 45th in the nation in suicides per person. No state wants to be high on that ranking, and I hope, Utah, we feel a bit of motivating embarrassment to change our ways and help these people. I'll throw in a bit of time, attention, and/or money; just get us organized.

Smug

As I mentioned a couple posts ago, I’ve been bothered by our air here in the Salt Lake valley. It came to a head last month when I realized that I’d just told my kids they couldn’t go out and jump on the tramp because there was a health advisory out against unnecessary breathing out of doors, as ironic as that sounds. So I decided to so something to alleviate my guilt a bit and recently bought a hybrid.

I typically don’t much care about cars; that’s Rob’s thing. I must admit, however, that I like this car in a way that’s given me a glimpse into what it’s like to be a car lover. Most of the things I really like about it are things I never really considered to be a plus on a vehicle. It’s doesn’t have much power, but I like that it has a jack for my ipod so that I don’t have to monkey with those sketchy FM transmitters. It looks like it’s about to give birth to a riding lawnmower, but I like having a Bluetooth connection to my phone so that I can look cool/insane talking into the air in an empty car. But more than I could have ever possibly anticipated, I really enjoy not having to use a car key anymore. You just get in and push a button. I had no idea how unhappy reaching into my pockets had made me all these years.

What I did, admittedly, anticipate was the benefit of having a driver’s side ego-inflator.

I’m doing something for the planet… by driving… burning gas still… but Yeah for me!! I’ll take that extra trip to the grocery store :-).

I know I shouldn’t use the ego-inflator too often—it’s not real, and it’s certainly a waste of resources—but… but it’s a temptation that hangs in the air of this car right with that new car smell (which is probably a cocktail of volatile carcinogens, carcinogens that smell nice). It’s like an added feature, as comforting as having heated seats in the winter.

Must… resist… singing…



There but for the grace of God go I.

Moral Orientation

After over a year of looking at the variety in gay Mormon blogs, one thing sticks out: “gay” can mean a lot of things. Some experience their orientation as merely a defective response to physical cues, some see it as a psychological scar from bad parenting, and some, of course, don’t care from whence love springs :-). I’ve posted on how important these differences are (here). But I think I missed one and am having a sort of epiphany (bear with me; sometimes my epiphanies just fizzle out). There seems to be an ingrained moral component to only some people’s experience of being “gay.”

A long while ago I posted on research that has begun to tease apart the mechanics of our moral reasoning (here and here). To sum up and simplify, the research basically seems to show two main moral reasoning centers in the human mind: a so-called emotional moral processor and a more logical moral processor. For example, when people are given the option of killing one man to save five the emotional center only knows to shout “Don’t kill him” while the other does the math and says “5-1=4. Kill him!” (Read more in this post). Furthermore, if you physically damage the emotional moral processor, people begin to make very different moral decisions (Read more in this post).

Okay, now add to that a fact I just posted as a bit of a joke (at the end of this post): there seems to be a significant genetic component to homophobia. Looking back at those posts in the light of this idea of a moral component to sexual orientation, I’m struck by a couple things.

When I was coming out, homophobia was something to which I paid great attention. Some of my friends were simply not bothered at all by my being gay. My best friend, a very manly, 100% heterosexual guy, had and has no problems seeing Rob and I be affectionate. He should have a problem, by stereotypes: a guy from South Carolina with a conservative Baptist background in a hyper-masculine profession (firefighter). I know by experience, though, many straight men do reflexively gag at the idea of two men kissing. While all my friends were great, I did have some, even among the more liberal of them, who had a visceral negative response to homosexuality, and they basically learned to stifle this response when it came to Rob and me. I don't care a bit about such homophobia and greatly respect them for muting it. For themselves, though, I’m sure they never could.

So, I’m beginning to wonder if such gut reaction homophobia may be an inherited part of the emotional moral reasoning center of some human minds? 28% hereditable, in fact :-)? To me, that could make sense and would explain a couple things.

It would make sense in that we need to be preprogrammed to develop wills to do stuff like eat, keep warm and so on. While there may be a benefit to there being a small portion of homosexuality in a species, in humans (though certainly not in some other species), it’s most efficient for the majority to be oriented towards producing new offspring. Just as we’re programmed to not find, say, rocks attractive and suitable for pair bonding (well, most of them ;-)), and because the male and female human can be somewhat similar, perhaps some come programmed with a strong “no homosexuality” gut reaction in that particular moral reasoning region and some do not.

This would explain the difference I’ve experienced in homophobia in straight men. Though, logically, two straight men may have no moral problem with homosexuality, one may have this gut aversion and the other will not.

Such a preprogrammed gut aversion could explain the persistence of homophobia. It’s too easy to mistake disgust with moral disgust, and even easier to call something “immoral for everybody” when your gut moral reaction is “immoral for me.” It is clear why many organizations haven’t been fans of homosexuality; it hurt group numbers and when groups fight, physically or ideologically, numbers matter a lot. Today, some of that is certainly still a reason to pose homosexuality as immoral, but I think this gut personal reaction in some heterosexuals regarding a gay relationship may be a comparable player.

Finally, this would explain the differences I see in the gay men around here. Personally, when I think of heterosexual sex and intimacy, I feel a gut reaction of being repelled. I don’t want to say disgust, as I’m so used to seeing it in media and in my life that I’m effectively comfortable with seeing heterosexual behavior in others, but, for me, it strikes me as wrong to the core. I’m supposed to pair up with a man (Well, one in particular ;-)), and, as odd as it may sound to some, to think of doing the same with a woman strikes me as deviant, against some law of life. It's as though that logical part of my moral processor knows there’s nothing wrong with it, and in fact knows it’s a great thing for many, but there’s still this emotional moral sense in me that says it’s somehow wrong. I fear, if raised in gay bizzarro world, where I wasn’t conditioned to accept heterosexual behavior, I may have became a heterophobe :-). In all seriousness, I regret that I can see that potential in myself, as a one-time fan of conservative orthodoxy, and I fear, if I were a straight male in this culture and had the same gut aversion to relations with a man for myself as I do now for relations with a woman, I’d tend to homophobia. I can understand why some so easily become homophobic with little cultural prodding (thanks goodness I’m gay :-)).

Nevertheless, it seems some gay men may be oriented towards men in many ways, but not similarly morally oriented (away from women or towards men). This could be the same as the difference between the straight guy who can watch two men kiss without squirming and one who cannot, though both may be great allies to the gay community. This could also explain why so often it seems people around here may be talking about what it means to be “gay” or “ssa” or whatever, and totally miss the mark in the eyes of others.

I have to admit, though I knew there was much diversity, I came here more so thinking that my “gay” was what being gay means, particularly in this regards. I was wrong and there are clearly many aspects to orientation. Among them, the moral orientation may be amongst the most important factor for LDS gays, above the physical and emotional. As I guess, again, I already knew :-).

Anyway, I’d love to see the results of similar research on gay and straight men when shown images of various couples or asked about sexual hypotheticals, not to mention how those with the VMPC lesions in their emotional moral processor respond and how they express homophobia. If only I went into that area of study; too late now :-).

Fanksgiving

Last year, I wrote a post, based on our family tradition of going around the table and saying why we’re thankful for in each person. I’ll not do that again. No, I’ve not succumbed to the undercurrent of us v. them. Yet. I just don’t have the time for a post that could fit in all the new folk around here :-). But I do want you all to know I’ve gratitude for getting to know those who visit (and particularly those lend their voices and good nature to) my little spot here, to whatever extent this medium allows. I’m also thankful to get to know the people whose blogs I frequent. Many make me smile, make me think, or just plane entertain. Even when they leave me feeling down for the author’s difficult predicaments, I know it’s better than not listening, and it makes the almost inevitable upswing in their lives all the more welcome and worth the feelings of investment (again, to whatever extent this medium allows :-)).

We just returned from Moab where we spent the holiday. This was a particularly memorable thanksgiving for us as Rob and I combined families this year. It’s always difficult to tell either of our parents we’ll be spending a holiday with the other set, and so we try to be as fair as possible. This year, we were headed down to be with Rob’s clan and Rob called my parents to tell them. Long-story-short, by the end of it all he had invited my parents, one aunt, one sister and a couple nieces and in-laws with us (I told him not to offer unless he was willing to hear yes :-)).

I can’t help but imagine an outsider would expect mixing such different families to result in some trouble. Add in the fact that the families are joined together by a gay union and you’ve the makings of a short-lived sitcom. Nevertheless, we all get along great. In addition to our personal bit of diversity, we had representatives from all across the political, religious, social, and racial spectrums there. I think it shows how much the world has changed that such categorizations now mean next to nothing in the face of the modern human family, far less than the quality of, say, your stuffing. Heck, in my parents’ lifetime, not only would it have been unthinkable that a gay couple could bring such great families together; it would be highly improbable for even an interracial couple. It’s hard to remember, but things really are changing quickly, and for that I am, of course, thankful.

With both families, though, our numbers were so large no home could hold us. So we had Thanksgiving outside this year, in Canyon Lands.
A bit untraditional, and a lot of fun. Rob organized everyone into a perfectly choreographed potluck. I’ll be honest, not everybody in our families is a good cook--Rob is, by far, the best--but this way we got the best dish from each family member (some were smartly assigned to bring the paper plates). We also brought a bunch of 4-wheelers and motorcycles to replace the traditional post-dinner tryptophan nap. Good times.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking. I thought the same. A pilgrim and an Indian, isn’t that too cutesie? Maybe in the same way as wearing, say, matching pink outfits? Yes, you’re right, yes it is. But, in our defense, again, we bought those costumes for a school pageant a week ago, not even thinking about using them for the holiday. Furthermore, at the idea, both the boys wanted to wear them to show their other grandparents and we were all for getting more use out of them.

Unfortunately, once we got home, Brian, my pilgrim, manifest-destinied right into Alan's room, gave him a cold, and took all his toys. No worries though, Alan's been relocated to a wonderful reservation in the laundry room, where he's set up a slot machine.

Finally, the day after thanksgiving we took my parents to see some of the sights; they haven’t been in the area much, though my mom grew up near Price. We planned a drive to beautiful, scenic Dead Horse Point:
Damn cloud.

Eh, I know I’ve been a lucky man, weather aside. So, to whatever person, place, or thing; to whatever luck, accident, or fate; to whatever God, law of physics, will, gene, or meme there may be out there coming together to make my Thanksgivings less of a reminder to be thankful, fanks (As my Alan up there would say).

Here’s to hoping to deserve it then :-).

This is Ridiculous

You know what I mean. It seems I must have prophetic power.

Let’s debate, of course. I mean, I’m right and oh so many others are wrong, after all. And sure, maybe we can occasionally argue, post a heated comment or two. I know I’ve written what I’ve regretted, once time cooled me down.

I had no idea, though, the seriousness of what goes on through the back allies of this internet neighborhood until today. I knew the streets here were a bit more mean, yep, but I now get the feeling I don’t know the half of it.

Sure, I caught wind of some serious threats from other’s blogs, threats of calling the morality police, and so on. But now I hear of physical threats and know people’s personal, perhaps professional lives are being put in jeopardy. Some of these people have spouses, kids too; none of whom deserve the repercussions, regardless of what we think has been done to us by their family member. But when a person is attacked with such real world threats their family can’t help but pay a price too.

There’s a wide line between arguing a point by reason and by threat. This community must go back to respecting that border, or else, in a matter of months, all that will be left here are the people out for a fight, and nothing more. Trust in my prophetic abilities. It’ll be a post-apocalyptic wasteland of filthy sodomites and sadistic homophobes, and you just know my team will end up with the studded-leather Mad-Max outfits. No one wants to see that.

Personally, I want to make sure this place is as safe for all as possible; not safe from dissent, of course, but from real world danger. Furthermore, I think we should all want this place to be particularly safe for the people who are the most vulnerable to such threats, those who have something like a family to frantically defend. If we lose their voice, we’ll lose a lot (myself, for one ;-], and I want to stick around).

So can’t we all just fight and get along? Don’t make me dress like The Humongous every time I want to blog. It looks like it would chafe:

The WSGCAPDP Vote

The race for the white house is heating up. Now, I don’t claim to be politically savvy, or all that knowledgeable in the arena. But, as a service to all those candidates hoping to capture that influential western-suburban-gay-christiany-agnostic-prudish-doctor-parent vote, let me tell you the top ten things you need to say (not necessarily in order). So listen up. I’m looking at you, Huckabee.

1. Tell me you’ll do all you can to be sure my children won’t end up paying my debts. Our national debt is ticking away; at tens of thousands per US citizen now. I haven’t been in any debt in my personal life for many years and can’t stand paying any interest, but here I am with this government debt, and it’s even worse that it’ll probably be my kids who’ll pay for it. Send us the bill; let’s pay it and balance our national budget. We need, say, to go to war? It’s necessary? Fine. Tell me to sacrifice and I’ll sacrifice now. I mean how embarrassing would it be to be the first generation in a long while to leave the next with less?

2. Tell me that you’ll keep our military strong, well equipped, and intimidating; providing for our national defense, I feel, is one of the top jobs of government. But also tell me that you’ll never use the military carelessly. If you want my vote, I have to know that, when my boys turn 18, you’ll not have gotten us into a pointless war that will chew them up. If we need to send our kids or ourselves into battle, I have to trust that you’ll know what a need is; give me more than rumors of, say, yellow cake and grand visions of transforming the middle east. Show me that we must do it to defend ourselves, or that we’ve the moral duty to defend others (and that in doing so we won’t make things worse for those others). On this same topic, let gays be open in the armed forces already. I mean, if we really are at war, let’s not be firing translators because they talked about who they went on a date with last night.

3. Tell me that you care passionately about freedom of expression, association, and religion. Tell me the Constitution, the Bill of Rights are important to you. I want to be able to say what I feel, I want my government to listen (by my elected representatives, not wiretap), and I want even my detractors to have those rights. I also, being a Utahn :-), want to keep my guns, though don’t mind some regulation on some weapons. I mean, I’m sure the founders didn’t intend the 2nd amendment to apply to all arms, from side to nuclear, but I want the option of defending my family somewhat effectively when threatened, and we’ve been threatened at times.

4. Health care. I don’t claim to understand why things are becoming so ridiculous, but I’ve got my own horror stories. To be honest, I don’t know what would be the best solution here either; just that it’s a growing problem, nationally and in my personal observations. If you want my vote, I’m going to need to hear what particular steps you back. Less regulation? Universal coverage? I’m willing to listen to any good arguments.

5. Speaking of health insurance... Advocate full and equal legal rights for all families, regardless of the sexual anatomy of those involved. You don’t want to call it “marriage”? I can live with that. But my family pays into our coffers and should have equal rights. Anything less is simply wrong and I want to see you stand up and say it in the face of the PC pressure to be, if at all publically for equal rights, some lukewarm begrudging supporter.

6. Tell me the US will behave morally. Tell me the United States Government will not torture or send prisoners to jurisdictions where torture is practiced, with zero equivocation. Tell me, when we do business and trade with another country, we will always take into consideration the treatment of the citizens of that country by their government, not merely the gain of having them as a trading partner. Just as I don’t want to pass on a financial debt to our kids; I don’t want to pass on a moral debt.

7. Tell me you’ll do something about our air. I’m not talking even about global warming, though that’s a concern. I’m talking about the immense embarrassment we should feel as a population that there are literally days we can’t let our kids out to play in our cities because the air carries well past a safe level of pollutants. I’m talking about the fact that we know this air is killing thousands of people in our cities prematurely. Think about it. There are days we foul our outside air so bad that we shouldn’t breathe it. That’s crazy.

8. Abortion and stem cell research. See this post.

9. Tell me you'll be above reproach. I don't want you to even have a way of knowing who gave what to your campaign. Don’t accept any donations from PACs. Take public money, or small personal contributions, keep away from the loopholes, and publically disavow and discourage folks who, for your cause, do things like push polls and smear the reputations of, say, people who served honorably in the military. I’m not a fan of telling people how they can spend their cash or speak, but politicians are free to accept it or not and I want a candidate who plays fair and is obligated to no one, unless it’s everyone. Of course, this probably means you won't win...

10. Briefs. I don’t trust a man in boxers. I’m not, however, sure how I feel about a woman in boxers.

And if you want my vote 4 years from now, do what you say. Furthermore, if you happen to cheat on your wife and end up going on national television and lying about it, you’ll not get my vote again either. I’m just say’n, just in case; I don’t want to have to vote for Nader ;-).

The Missionary Man

A couple days ago the missionaries knocked on my parent's door, and my mom, though a former LDS member, let them in to talk for a while. Many of her grandchildren are or have been on LDS missions, and so she, of course, wanted to offer these kids her hospitality and let them do their thing. She used to even pay the church some tithing when I came around to pick up the offerings.

Anyway, the whole visit went downhill fast. Small talk led to "the talk," which is fine; she's used to attempts to convert her and has seen it all before. Heck, a group of local relief society members made her into a project a couple years ago for about 6 months. When pressed by this missionary for areas where she disagrees with the LDS church, she eventually brought up my family and the church's active involvement in changing the constitution to keep us from equal rights. Then it got ugly.

Fortunately it was just the one missionary that became combative, while the other kept quiet. This kid began telling my mom our family was illegitimate and sinful. He told her we were selfish because we weren’t raising children. Then, when she corrected him and showed him a picture of her grandkids, he reversed and told her that we were selfish because we were raising children, and even suggested they weren’t really our children because they weren’t biologically related to us both. So are they not “really” someone’s grandkids too? (I don’t think it’ll ever cease to surprise me that so many people do or will consider children they parent only theirs if it’s by biology, as if a change in DNA sequence would change their love and devotion. It’s kind of depressing to think on it.)

Finally the guy had the nerve to say his faith had nothing against either Rob or I. They just want us to basically break up, and pay more in cash and legal intangibles than they do. See, that’s okay, in his eyes. That, in his doublespeak, is treating people with love and respect.

Now my mom, as has been her nature as long as I’ve had the fortune of being her son, didn’t get upset and remained patient but clear (fortunately, my dad wasn’t at home ;-). He'll outright fight for us.). In fact, she related the encounter to me with some amusement. And, at first, it was kind of a funny encounter to me too. But, as I’ve been thinking about it, about what that kid was trying to do, it’s starting to look much worse.

What was this guy’s ultimate goal? To turn my mom on our family? To get her to (“lovingly”) begin to see our home as illegitimate, evil? Our home that arguably has the best, most stable marriage of any of her eight children; that’s what he was hoping to end? To get her to hope, as he was, for us to split up our kid’s home? And then I start to wonder, did he want her to impart such “values” to our children, during the many visits they all enjoy by living so close to us? To teach our children to undermine their very home?

I'm a bit upset. No, more than a bit upset. Today, I’m feeling outright nervous and combative; I’ve even been wondering if staying here is ultimately best. I’ve began to even worry about the LDS kid in Brian’s class who keeps talking to him about going to heaven. I know it sounds minor and it wasn’t a bother until now, but trying to temped our kid’s with the idea of heaven leads to the dogma and allegiances that are the supposed price for that reward.

And I, being agnostic, can’t ethically suggest such rewards and punishments as heaven and hell. I can’t compete on promises of pleasure and pain alone; all I can offer their young minds is a complicated lecture on why I’ve come, after a long path, to see doubt as the more correct and more humane position. But I’d never want them to give that lecture in school; I’d lay down the law if they even tried to debunk Santa there. But this little kid is promising Brian a great deal already, an escape from death for himself and those he loves, and goodness knows that the human mind can talk itself into a lot of varied and mutually exclusive beliefs for that comfort. The research on our coloring of experience alone is quite striking. So what, when faced with these pressures, will happen to our boys?

I don’t know. Such a worry simply comes with being a parent, I guess, along with many others, and I don’t mean to pose it as extraordinary.

I do know no missionary from any faith could turn my parents on us. In that case, it’s just the thought of the missionary’s goal and his complete disrespect for family (if the anatomy isn’t “right”) that makes me upset. But I know, in my teens, I wandered quite a bit from the positions of my parents, and they always encouraged my inquiry. I was everything from Baptist to Buddhist (1, 2); I was even LDS and could have been that missionary, arguing against my family at some point in my life. And I’m sure our boys will wander too… Looking back on it now, I have to admit, I want them to wander. It will hurt, but it’s one of those trials a parent shouldn’t stop (as I guess I already knew :-)).

Eh, and I’ll get over this combative mood too; I always do. All our neighbors and family here in Utah are great, and I’m close to sure none of them hope for us to split up our home. These border skirmishes, however, put me on edge. They start me wondering about when, not if, the local culture will want to intervene in our homes in ways more damaging than making us constitutionally unrecognized. Just the thought that such a huge organization in my state is sending people door to door saying such things about my home gives me chills.

Maybe, when this particular missionary gets married, I’ll go to his in-laws house and try to talk them into understanding how wrong his family is and that they should encourage his wife to leave him. Sure, I’d have little chance, but at least the returned attack might make me feel better ;-).

Not on a Writers Strike

No, I was just at a conference all last week. I'll not go into the details of the many power point slides I enjoyed/endured... oh, the exciting life of a science guy ;-). Maybe I'll write a post some time about writing for grants. Bait your breath.

It was fun though to, for the first time at one of these things, have my ego repeatedly stroked by folks addressing me as Doctor LAST-NAME-REDACTED, and nice to go to the social events and call everyone by their first name.

It was also interesting to listen to out of town colleagues talk about our great state. Seems Utah is a butt of jokes. Just before giving my presentation the room was going on about their trip to temple square and about the quaintness of our little city. I could literally see some of them blush when I took the podium and introduced myself as a local. It was one of those times I was happy to be assumed to be LDS again.

Oh Baby

It seems each day I lose another one. “Watum” is gone, and so is “orangen” along with “lellow”. But I just noticed we’ve lost my favorite one, sometime last week.

“Oh baby” is gone.

Here, I’ll use it in a sentence:

“Papa, can I have a banana? Oh baby I’ll have an apple instead.”

I really am sad to see these cute mistakes go. Curse their teachers :-).

At least Brian made up for it a bit by telling me next year for Halloween he wants to be FrankenEinstein.

I may steal that costume idea from him.

It's a Trap!

So I read this on MoHoHawaii’s blog, and it turned out to be a trap. Now I’m tagged and bound to answer some 56 odd questions. Here goes…

1. Taken a picture completely naked? No, while naked, I’ve never taken a picture.

2. Made out with a friend on your MySpace/Facebook page? What’s this “Facebook”? (Gee I’m getting old…) Regardless, I’ve only made out ("made out"? Is that what the kids say? ;-)) with one man and a handful of luckless girls.

3. Danced in front of your mirror naked? No, I don’t dance, regardless of my clothing.

4. Told a lie? Yes. In fact, this particular answer is a lie.

5. Had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back? Yes, attraction (and anger, indifference, and respect too) but never love, knock on wood.

6. Been arrested? Yes, for bank robb… I mean, um, no.

7. Made out with someone of the same sex? Uh…

8. Seen someone die? No.

9. Slept in until 5pm? Never, and if I ever seem to have slept in to 5pm don’t bother shaking me; you’ve likely just changed your answer to Question 8.

10. Had sex at work? No way; that’d be dangerous for all sorts of reasons. I won’t even eat in my workspace.

11. Fallen asleep at work/school? See #9.

12. Held a snake? Yes.

13. Run a red light? Yes, on my 1st week of driving.

14. Been suspended from school? No.

15. Totaled your car in an accident? No, it was my dad’s car and the other vehicle was a deer, a very big deer coming at me at 55 mph (by my favored point of reference). I think he was drunk, or something.

16. Pole danced? See #3. I can’t even manage a hula-hoop.

17. Smoked? No. Besides a drink about once a week now, I pretty much follow the Word of Wisdom.

18. Been fired from a job? No. I’ve left for my boss’s bigotry, though he never knew I was gay.

19. Sung karaoke? Yes, badly.

20. Done something you told yourself you wouldn’t? I’m sure; this questionnaire, for example.

21. Laughed until a drink came out your nose? Yes.

22. Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Yes.

23. Kissed in the rain? Yes, in all sorts of inclement weather.

24. Sung in the shower? Yes, badly, with reverb.

25. Given your private parts a nickname? None of your business, but no.

26. Ever gone out without underwear? Yes, I spent most of my youth on a swim team.

27. Sat on a roof top? Of course; I’ve stood there too.

28. Played chicken? In a car, no. In rhetoric, yes.

29. Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? No. Jumped in once to get my niece out, though. It’s one of those family stories that gets retold and retold.

30. Broken a bone? Never one that belonged to me, or my species.

31. Mooned/flashed someone? Sure, but only the one guy, and I eventually made an honest man out of him.

32. Shaved your head? No.

33. Slept naked? Again none of your business, but no, too distracting.

34. Played a prank on someone? Of course.

35. Had a gym membership? Yes, but now I workout at home where no one nags me about my “technique”. Dude, back off.

36. Felt like killing someone? Never to the point of planning. Yet. Okay, sure, I’ve been very angry before, but I don’t have much endurance in my temper. Thinking on it more though, if someone hurt or threatened my kids, I can see that dark ability in me.

37. Made your girlfriend/boyfriend cry? Yes, I had a poor string of girlfriends. Sorry.

38. Cried over someone you were in love with? Yes, I cry quite easily if I think too hard about my family. Heck, I even cry at the Return of the Jedi for the parent-child thing. When Darth Vader tells Luke he saved him, I just can’t contain myself.

39. Had sex more than 10 times in one day? Is that medically possible?

40. Had Mexican jumping beans for pets? No.

41. Been in a band? LOL yes. I was a keyboardist. We were called The Foxes and the Hounds and we played church dances mainly. There’s a tape of us hidden somewhere in my memorabilia; it’s of me singing Elvis’ All Shook Up. It will remain hidden.

42. Subscribed to Maxim? No, but I’ve received a free copy, in a doomed attempt at marketing.

43. Taken more than 10 shots of alcohol? I fear, for my drinking experience, ten shots of alcohol may as well be 10 shots of antifreeze.

44. Shot a gun? Please, I am a Utahn.

45. Had sex today? It’s pretty early in the day yet.

46. Played strip poker? No; Rob isn’t into card games. Maybe we could play strip scrabble? I bet there’s some rules for it already out there on the net.

47. Tripped on mushrooms? I’ve never encountered mushrooms tall or sturdy enough.

48. Donated Blood? I’ve tried to but was turned down because I’m gay. It pissed me off, really. By my sexual history, I’ve about as much chance of having an STD as a lesbian nun chess champion.

49. Video taped yourself having sex? No, but, if I did, I see my porn name would be Lucky Valentine. Cool, huh?

50. Eaten alligator meat? No. But the best cut of meat I’ve ever had was an ostrich fillet. Why is ostrich not at my local supermarket?!

51. Jumped out of an airplane? Nope.

52. Been to more than 10 countries? Does the Epcot Center count?... Yes, either way

53. Wanted to have sex with a platonic friend? Yes, once. It was funny though, after I came out and was dating Rob, this friend told me he had messed around with his gay roommate while in college. He’s a great platonic friend now and I’m just glad we didn’t explore his bisexuality when it could have really hurt me, once he was done experimenting.

54. Shaved yourself bare? No. Shaved my legs once for my swim team, though. How do you women do it?! It took forever and I was itchy for weeks.


55. Dressed in drag? No, but with the huge and glamorous closet my mom has... Well, I’ll just say it’s a waste of a drag gold mine that I’m not a transvestite. Alas.

BONUS: If you could be any celebrity for an entire week, who would it be and why? Oprah, because I’ve always wanted to know what it’d be like to be able to choke someone telekinetically. That, and I know Rob respects her a lot.

Okay, seriously. A whole week? Ummm…

Okay, I’d be Pat Robertson, and I’d spend the week as the biggest queeny flirt on a well-publicized cross country tour of gay bars.

Was that serious? Maybe not. Umm… I don’t know. I don’t want anyone else’s sex, celebrities aren’t really all that powerful, and what use is a grotesque pile of money for just a week? If it came with their abilities too, I suppose I’d pick an artist I like, like Beck or Thom York. Then I'd spend the week frantically creating what I never could otherwise. But if I could be a politician instead, I’d be whoever the US President is at the time, for the obvious reasons.

And now… Ah Ha!! You’ve been trapped too, and by reading this you are contractually obligated to answer these same questions.

All Saints Sugar Hangover

Hope you all had a good Halloween.

Ours was a lot of fun; the boys were really into it this year, much more than any other. They actually wanted this year, from the start, to put on a costume, go to a stranger’s door, and threaten them for candy. It used to take some encouragement.

We spent the holiday with a Jedi and a space alien:

First we went to our annual neighborhood potluck dinner. I know I've said this before, but I can’t say enough about how great our neighborhood is. We’ve been here well over a year now and everyone has been terrific to our family, from the kids to the adults. Even the guy who gives the cold shoulder to most of the other neighbors for their more liberal LDS lifestyles is warm and congenial to us (maybe he just had very low expectations, easily outdone ;-)).

Then we, of course, went trick-or-treating.

The alien got a little tired, though, and asked for a ride. It didn't help that his eyes kept fogging up either.

I complied, of course. He had a laser gun.

Now, how to manage the two piles of tooth-rotting candy sitting at home that, by it’s volume, could only be described as obscene? Maybe Rob and I should eat it before the kids get home from school… maybe just the chocolate, you know, for the kid’s health.