A Not-So-Grave Marker

Brian asked if he could go outside this morning with a piece of tissue in one hand and a paper in the other; I said yes and watched him go out to the garden and back. When he came back in I went out to find this monument:
This post is dedicated to all those ants needlessly killed by bathwater each year.

Frivolity

I'm in the mood for it.

Yesterday I came across shreds (thanks to x96), where you take footage of a band and dub in terrible music over their rock star seriousness.

Even the muscles on the back hurt from laughing at them, and I want to share:



Am I officially crazy, to crack up at "Fat-man-Philanthropy"? Please tell me it's not just my odd sense of humor.

Anyway, here's the original:



Not as funny... Still though, grown men in costumes licking blinking guitars... Fit your pants! That's something.

Seeing Double

Lately we’ve noticed, when he’s focusing in on words, Alan sometimes goes a bit cross-eyed. So yesterday I took him to an pediatric optometrist (an aside complaint: Another reason I wish we could all be treated as a legal couple with equal right is to be on the same health insurance policy so that it wasn’t best for me, the breadwinner of this home, to take the kids to all the medical appointments, but hey, that’s local politics for ya).

Anyway the nurse was asking me all the basic questions and she gets to, “Has he ever complained of seeing double; like has he ever said he sees two moms or two dads?”

You just never know what’s going to out you, where or when ;-).

Turns out he’s just a bit far sighted and I guess it’s common for kids his age to compensate by moving one eye independently. Now he’s surprisingly excited to get reading glasses.

My Brain, My Brian

This morning, at 5 AM, I awoke to my sweet little Brian snuggling up. We laid there and talked for a couple minuets before I got up, woke his brother, and fed them breakfast. I bathed them, got their cloths out and their backpacks ready, with all the care in the world. As I knelt down and began to tie Brian’s shoes, he reached over and patted the crown of my head.

Was he about to say something sweet, something to hit that Dad button deep in the core of my being? I love it when they just, out of the blue, say something like “Papa, I love you,” and I began smiling in anticipation.

After a moment of patting my head he finally said with amusement, “Papa, I can see your brain.”

“My brain?” I asked, oblivious.

“Yes, at the top of your head.”

It wasn’t the best way to learn my hair is thinning up there, but far from the worst :-).

I Could Think of Worse Bombs

Story Here.

“Pentagon Confirms It Sought To Build A 'Gay Bomb'
...
As part of a military effort to develop non-lethal weapons, the proposal suggested, "One distasteful but completely non-lethal example would be strong aphrodisiacs, especially if the chemical also caused homosexual behavior."The documents show the Air Force lab asked for $7.5 million to develop such a chemical weapon."

The Ohio Air Force lab proposed that a bomb be developed that contained a chemical that would cause enemy soliders to become gay, and to have their units break down because all their soldiers became irresistably attractive to one another," Hammond said after reviwing the documents.
...”

Just come up with your own joke. I’m experiencing some sort block involving the presence of too many options.

Lupercalia

The book I own that I most enjoy owning sits unused, in tight care. I’ve never read more than a paragraph, and have only opened it with my grubby hands a couple times.

It’s a 15th century copy of Plutarch's Lives. I’ll stick to my paperback version, thank you very much :-). Besides, it’s not easy to read; the way of printing back then has some of the s’s looking too similar to f’s, and it’s annoying.

Anyway, from Plutarch’s Lives I found this description of Valentine’s day’s competition (a Feb 15th pagan holiday). This seems to be what the Pope of the time tried to replace and he succeeded in doing so. I'll leave it to you to decide if it was a good move:

It was, namely, the festival of the Lupercalia, of which many write that it was anciently celebrated by shepherds, and has also some connection with the Arcadian Lycaea. At this time many of the noble youths and of the magistrates run up and down through the city naked, for sport and laughter striking those they meet with shaggy thongs. And many women of rank also purposely get in their way, and like children at school present their hands to be struck, believing that it procures an easy labor to those who are with child, and makes those conceive who are barren.

[Sigh] I needed the levity... "Shaggy thongs"...

Happy Valentine’s Day!

(or Merry Lupercalia, if you're into that)

Born That Way?

While A is my rough and tumble kid, my little B is a sensitive soul. In any media, when he sees a person somewhat different, say, a three-eyed alien, I’m talking the cartoonish friendly type, he wants to know if they were born that way. In trying to figure out why and past a couple layers of child reasoning, it finally became clear that he assumes if they were born that way, then he can’t become that way. He’s more comfortable with three-eyed aliens, as long as he can’t grow into a three-eyed alien.

Certainly it’s something we have to work on. They’ve cousins with certain differences that make B similarly uneasy, and it’s taken a couple instances to get them to understand how such is okay, and to think of their cousin’s feelings before showing their discomfort.

Now, typically, if it’s in any sort of media, right after the “Were they born that way?” comes “Are they just pretend?” (I know, should go the other way :-)). We’ve had the talk about the difference between dinosaurs, dragons, and lizards, and pretend or not subsequently matters much to him. If they’re not born that way and pretend, then he’s at his most comfortable with the character.

But if they are born that way and not pretend, he has one last recourse. He wants to know if they live in Utah.

That said, I was faced with an uncomfortable set of such question last night for a particularly unflattering image of Michael Jackson.

Matchmaking Advice

We’ve this friend, a great guy. He’s adopted a couple children, biological siblings, out from an abusive home and he is amazing with them; his parenting skills make me envious. He has gotten them past some horrible trauma, and into being a couple of great, loving, and well mannered children, not to mention adorable. Even on the superficial scale, he’s quite a catch, very handsome.

But he’s single; he can’t find the right guy. I guess single dads have a tough time finding eligible and interested partners in the gay community. Seems many gay men have assumed they couldn’t have family and have stopped thinking about it or making their life conducive for it. If his idea of a date is a $200 dinner followed by clubbing, and would never step into a Jungle Jim’s, he’s not much of a catch.

Then when you find, of that 50% men, 5% gay population, a guy willing to make a family, you still have to weed out which ones you couldn’t see bringing into your children’s lives, even if you do like them… Well, you get the idea, if people like R and I don’t start early we end up with a pretty small pool.

In thinking of who I’d play matchmaker with, or what advice to give him, it hit me. Gay men of the world, listen up. I have some important advice. :-)

Find yourself a Mormon man, if you can.

[Blatant but positive prejudice based on my experience mode]

1. They come conditioned, experienced, and willing to build families. They’ve changed their infant sibling’s diapers. They’ve often dealt with more than five kids at a time, and have strong parental ethics. Throw those baby books away; while I was the last of my siblings and not as experienced, R (and our “practice baby”) taught me all I needed to know.

2. They are principled guys. Of course there are exceptions, but most have had ethics drilled into them from early on and they’d never think of cheating on you.

3. This may be seen as a negative; I don’t see it that way, but they aren’t much for partying. For goodness sake, don’t give them any liquor before they know how to manage it ;-). But, if you don’t like clubs, and would rather go to a movie or for a hike, they’re your guy.

4. If they’ve been on a mission, great. Last week I got bo po gee (sp? :-)), one of my favorites, and I often come home to a shabu shabu the likes of which you cannot get in any Utah restaurant. My man speaks Korean, does yours?

5. Sure, you may have a rough road with their family at the get go, but once that’s done, (and it will end) you’ve got some great in-laws and a strong extended family, people you’ll come to love.

[/Blatant but positive prejudice based on my experience mode]

Now, please, don’t steal another’s husband, be that another a woman or man, and certainly don’t find a guy in the closet or still thinking being in a gay relationship is a sin; that’ll be nothing but trouble.

But find yourself a Mormon man, if you can. They’re great.

Card

“clark was handsome, no he was pretty. with that porcelain skin and kind nature and a flair for gourmet cooking; well, we all said a silent prayer for marlene.”

This card gave me a laugh yesterday. I can easily imagine some of my aunts saying the same of some sweet couple decades ago.

Anyway, I hope all us pretty, kind, porcelain skinned, gourmet chefs have a good day.

If You Need Someone To Pity…

…pity our grandchildren.

For about a year now our B has been planning his children. I know, too soon :-). But it’s adorable. We have DVDs I’ve put together of each 6 months of their lives, and they love them, and one of B’s favorite parts is the part where we give them their names and I suppose that’s where his interest originates. Anyway, while I’d not post my kids’ names online, I feel pretty safe giving my eventual grandkids’ names:

B’s 1st iteration (from about a year ago):
Three children with the names:
1. Ivanhoe
2. Shaday
and, finally:
3. Lumpy.

Poor, poor, Lumpy... You think you’d be grateful to not be named Ivanhoe or even Shaday, but then you get hit with Lumpy (is that a girl’s or a boy’s name?). And I'm still stumped at where he could have heard Ivanhoe.

2nd Iteration (from about 6 months ago):
Two children:
1. Shawday
2. Treehoe

Treehoe... better than Lumpy?

Finally he’s come to:
Two children:
1. A (His brother’s name, and, yes, that made me all warm and happy but…)
2. Mace Windu

Certainly, he’s improving in his baby naming skills, but will he improve to a tolerable level soon enough?! These are my grandkids!

But I’m in the land of quirky names here in Utah; maybe a Treehoe or a Mace would go over relatively smoothly.

Then there’s A who doesn’t give this stuff much thought, but last night he informed us that he was going to make his children wear clothes made of wolf fur. He concedes that may be uncomfortable but tells us if the children ask to wear chicken ‘fur’ instead (presumably he feels that would be more comfortable?), he’d not let them. Why only the two choices? Beats me.

Honestly, a good measure of the joy of parenting is in the detective work of trying to find out how such ideas form in those little heads.

And sure, I’ll soon get back to somewhat serious topics, but I needed a break :-).

Important Announcement

After long, serious discussion with my family and thoughtful consideration, I’ve decided to make an announcement, and I am humbled and honored to be given this forum to do so. That said, I am hereby announcing my candidacy for the presidency of the United States of America.

I know, so unexpected, but I think the time is right; the country is ready.

Please, please put down your pens; put away those checkbooks; I’ll not be asking for your donations. No doubt I’ll win on my grassroots appeal alone. But I do hope I can count on some of you to be in my cabinet; heck, I don’t even yet have a vice president. Sure I’ve got some folks in mind for particular positions, but I’d rather not say. With something this important I’d certainly start a struggle for power…

But don’t you dare try to run against me. I’m already working on attack ads… Just one example:

Scary deep-voiced announcer guy:
“L says he’s pro family. Why then does he go online and write about sexual orientation?”

Random woman on the street:
“I thought I could trust L, but is that even his real name? If I don’t know his real name how can I know he’ll protect our children?”

Random man on the street:
“I thought L would care about the baby proboscis monkeys going hungry in the zoos of Bulgaria. But why hasn’t he come out opposed to baby proboscis monkeys going hungry in the zoos of Bulgaria? No, I’m sticking with Scot, at least we know where he stands on proboscis monkeys.”

[Cue black-and-white skewed image of L’s avatar; music in minor chord]

Scary deep-voiced announcer guy:
“L, wrong on protecting children, wrong on hungry baby proboscis monkeys, wrong for America. Vote Scot (um, yeah, just Scot); Scot puts America first”

Scot [in front of fireplace with children by side; no R though (that didn’t test well)]:
“Hi, I’m Scot, and I endorse this message”

Quick-talking deep-voiced announcer guy:
“Paid for by The People for a Great, Moral, and Great America, the Sinister Cabal of Queer Agenda Pushers, and Ordinary Citizens United For President Scot”

And that’s just one example; I’ve them working on all my potential opponents.

Simply, join my presidency of benevolent bipartisanship cooperation or suffer the dire consequences, the consequences of, I suppose, homopartisanship. And, of course: [maniacal laughter]

And I hope I can count on you support.

(Clearly I'm in no mood for intricate topics this weekend :-))

Poorly Directed Marketing

On a postcard in our mail today:

“[Scot],
You’ve been selected to receive
a special student discount on
PLAYBOY for under $1 an issue,
Plus a FREE DVD!”

Well, I’ve no chance of taking advantage of this very special offer; does anyone else around here want it?…

Yeah, I didn’t think so.

Vasopressin and Titillating Lives of Voles

One of the cutest bits of research I’ve collected on sexual behavior and genetics has to be that regarding the vole (1-3).

Seems the typically prairie vole (Microtus ochrogaster) is a paragon of puritan chastity. They find a mate and that’s it; they’re dedicated husbands and fathers.

Not like that slutty meadow vole (Microtus pennsylvanicus). Seems the meadow vole sleeps around, uh huh. They’re generally neglectful of both the wife and kids. I bet they try to blame it on “selection pressure” due to the "vast" difference between prairie and meadow environments, or the way they were raised. Whatever, we all know they have vole free agency.

But it turns out prarie voles generally have longer microsatellites (“genetic stutters, usually just two or four bases long”) near the encoding region for a receptor for vasopressin, causing them to take in more of the hormone. Researchers have even been able to take the licentious meadow voles and, using a viral vector, alter their genes to increase the number of these receptors. The voles are thus converted into faithful mates.

It’s an injection for mortality ;-). Would you take it?

Studying humans is far more difficult, not to mention controversial; no one will be altering our genes in a double blind study to see if we abandon our illicit trysts. Furthermore, a possible mechanism in humans for such would likely be more complicated. But this same hormone has been found to play a role in autism, which is well known for it’s social limitations, and a similar microsatellite has been found to be far shorter in chimps than in humans, but near the same size for the more social and gregarious bonobos.

No, it’s not highly relevant to homosexuality, not near other studies I could (and have and will :-)) reference. But it’s one of my favorites, something about the cute vole I guess.

It is a striking effect on sexual and familial behavior, though, and it does make one wonder. If your justice involves punishing people for their “free will” choices, instead of controlling already constrained human will by presenting additional consequences, what happens if people are found to make all their choices for a reason?

Also, let me add to this long held post, I’m posting this today as it was brought to mind by the post on monogamy by Mark, here. Personally I feel monogamy is as right for me as homosexuality. I check my innate self and it reports back the same: I’m a gay prairie vole ;-). As I wrote there, I can’t really say monogamy is a righteous thing that I cling to in a noble act of self-sacrifice. It’s not; it’s what I want, something in which I find great value. I’ve no ethical problem with my meadow vole cousins—clearly there’s a pressure to keep both of us in the population. I’ve no problem with sex as long as it’s not used to hurt the other voles :-).

References:
1. Lim, M. M., Z. Wang, et al. (2004). "Enhanced partner preference in a promiscuous species by manipulating the expression of a single gene." Nature 429: 754-757.
2. Hammock, E. A. D. and L. J. Young (2005). "Microsatellite Instability Generates Diversity in Brain and Sociobehavioral Traits." Science 2005(308): 1630-1634.
3. Pennisi, E. (2005). "In Voles, a Little Extra DNA Makes for Faithful Mates." Science 308: 1533.

On the Package

Thank you for purchasing Gayness* TM. We appreciate your patronage. Please, before operating Gayness, read all warnings and familiarize yourself with the owner’s manual. No warrantees expressed or implied. If you feel Gayness was shipped to you mistakenly, please, attempt to return it to [address smudged off]. If you wish to exchange Gayness for another of our fine products, keep Gayness in its original condition and meet all the terms of our return policy. Write to the address above for a copy of the return policy, in paperback or hardcover. Shipping may take 2 to 80 years.

For customer service, please call 801-5#5-18*7. A very limited number of operators are standing by. Thank you for your patience.

Contents include:
1-Gayness.
1-Owner’s manual. (Tomorrow)
1-Madona CD.

*Gayness should not be operated while under the influence of alcohol, or certain cold medicines. Side effects may include alienation, anger, weakening of the wrist muscles, angelic assault, and hallucinations of improved fashion sense. Do not use Gayness if your wife is or may become be pregnant, or if you’ve been diagnosed with homophobitia or closetal occlusion. If you feel you are experiencing guilt or shame while operating Gayness, please discontinue use and consult your physician.

The Militant Anti-LDS Queer on the Corner

A conference memory…

A number of years ago, I couldn’t keep myself from visiting the web site of… Hmm, let’s see... I dare not summon his spirit… how about “He Who Shall Not Be Named”, or, backwards, “SplehpDerf”.

Ever since my first reading of Sun Tzu’s Art of War, I’ve had a need to know and understand the enemy; sometimes to an unhealthy degree. That’s me, methodically trying to fix what can’t be fixed again.

I finally gave that up with Fred. I grew to even feel like I couldn’t maintain anger towards him anymore; it’d be like being angry at a person with tourettes for cursing. Also, I eventually realized he was one of the gay community’s best friends, from a PR perspective. At the time, though, I’d print all his outrageous pamphlets, and worry about him gaining ground.

Then one day I read on his site that he was headed to Salt Lake to protest at the LDS general conference. I knew I had to see it for myself, just see it. So, I got in the car, and left R at home. Saner regarding such things than I, he had no desire to witness this train wreck of humanity.

I got there and there the monster was, not really a monster at all. He was just an old guy in white gloves being as outrageous and insulting as he could be, feeding off the LDS passersbys, enjoying every angry word. It was more sad than the big confronting of my fears for which I’d hoped.

He had his typical signs, and his clan carried them in a line, mostly his family I gather. Aside: the next day, I think, I’d go to their protest at our friend’s Episcopal Church. There a little kid, about 9 I’d say, was protesting with them. He called to their minister and said, “Hi, I have a secret. Would you like to know?” She said yes, a kindly woman not expecting what was to come. The little kids said “You’re a dike whore.” Cute, huh?

Back to the general conference: I watched the interaction with the crowd, and felt bad for the LDS folks who had to walk past and see that on a day so important to them. There are times and places for protests, important religious events are not those times.

Then I noticed another group of protesters approach, protesters with gay flags. I was at first afraid they were doing what Fred’s clan was doing, and I approached them to feel them out. I was grateful to learn they were only there to counter-protest Fred. Still, they only had gay flags, and no visible explanation. Clearly they were not clear, not to the LDS folks.

Then the fascination with Fred took hold of me again when I saw one of the lesbians there had a camera; I needed a picture of Fred and me. Silly yes, but it seemed to be an invaluably funny thing to have at the time. I stood next to him and the photo was snapped (and she never sent it to me! Grr).

But once I asked that favor, she felt free to ask one of me. She had to go to the restroom and wanted me to hold her flag. I said sure, not thinking it through.

So there I found myself on the corner of North Temple and Main with a bunch of people holding gay flags as LDS faithful filtered between us to get into conference. Oops, I thought.

As soon as I wasn’t visibly talking to someone the angry comments started, and I realized I was trapped with a flag too big to downplay until the woman came back. “I’m not here protesting you; I’m protesting them” and “I’m just holding this for a friend” I’d counter, but I guess that doesn’t sound too reasonable...

In the end, I spent about 10 minuets in front of that huge granite building, being insulted and questions, and I knew I’d have deserved ever bit of it if things were how they appeared. What a pathetic protester I’d make, constantly apologizing :-).