Once again, Arizona has lost its freaking collective religious right mind. Unless you live under a rock, you’ve heard by now that Arizona legislature passed a bill making it legal for businesses, public servants etc, to refuse service to anyone who does not conform to their religious beliefs. Dubbed the “right to discriminate act,” similar bills are currently being considered in 10 other states, with Georgia hot on the heels of Arizona. While many feel as if these bills solely target the LGBT communities in these states, that’s not exactly true. In Georgia and Arizona for instance, a hotel for example, can refuse to give a room to anyone who does not fit the religious criteria of the owner. Muslims, Hindus, virtually anyone can be refused service. Currently in Arizona, the bill is expected to be vetoed by Governor Jan Brewer. However, she is doing it because of the back lash, not because it’s just a god-awful, disgusting Jim Crow like set back to human rights. The bill reeks of inhumanity, and both conservative and liberal alike should be disgusted by any such piece of legislation. This bill, and other bills under consideration, are a slippery slope toward not only a return to Jim Crow, but a return to Nazi Germany as well. It’s horrifying to me to even think about what bills may come afterward, should any state turn such discrimination into law.
Yet, I’m not surprised by the bill. The radical religious right has been hot on the trail of Puritan like conformity for decades. They want to quash down the movement of marriage equality (Ted Cruz, I’m looking at you). They want to kill women’s reproductive rights (Hello Rick Perry!). They want to severely limit immigration. They want to jail almost every American of black and brown color on trumped up charges. They want to eliminate every colorful ingredient of our melting pot, and turn our country into bland creme soup. It’s so bad, that even moderate conservatives are not only distancing themselves from their grand old party, they’re forsaking it all together – in droves. If John McCain is complaining, you know it’s bad.
What’s our recourse? Protest, protest against these moral intruders like they owe you money. Write your state leaders, and make your voice heard. Threaten with your buying power, and threaten with your votes. People will listen. It’s happened before, and it can happen again. In fact, it’s already happening, why else would Governor Brewer consider a veto? It’s not because of her humanity: She doesn’t have any. It’s because she knows that Arizona will lose a ton of tourist dollars. She’s probably going to do the right thing for the wrong reasons, but at least she’s going to do the right thing. We must continue to stand up for what is right: After all, George Takei simply isn’t going to be around forever to fight our battles for us.
These are dangerous times we live in folks, and if we don’t fight back, our freedom will already be more repressed that it already is. I’m just saying.
I had never heard of 2CELLOS before now. After watching them own AC/DC’s Thunderstruck in this video, I plan to check out a lot more of them. Their rendition is in-fucking-credible. I literally clapped at my computer screen when they were done.
You can check out more of them on their official YouTube page. I’ll see you there!
I wish this was on the front door of the Kwickie Mart I work at:
I’ve seen so many guys come into the store with baggy droopy pants, that I feel like I’m working at the gangster version of International Male. Seriously dude. Pull your drawers up. You don’t look bad ass, you look like someone whose mom never taught to dress.
I’m at work today, tending to the Kwickie Mart coffee bar. Our weekly grocery truck shows up, and the driver walks in through the front door. In light of the weather, he starts talking to my manager, complaining how he had to deliver through the front door at the last few stores because of the snow and ice pile up. My manager responds to this with “Well it’s clear, so you can come in my back door.” Luckily, I was facing away from them, so they couldn’t see the look on my face. As it was, I nearly dropped both pots I was holding at the time.
I am living proof that no matter how old you get, you’re never to old to have your mind in the gutter.
Today marks the 8th anniversary of my marriage to a wonderful woman. You may know her as blogger Capricious Lestrange. This year, in instead of cards, we wrote to each other. Capricious wrote me a wonderful poem, which she will be cross posting on both her blog and mine. I chose to write about some of the wonderful memories that we have shared together through the years. This is what I came up with:
My love, when I think back on 8 years of marriage, and almost nine years of being together, these are the memories that come flooding into my mind:
Months of day dreaming and planning of how to escape my old life and start a new one with you – not even knowing if you felt the same way. The joy I felt on the day that you told me you did.
The weekends in Vandalia, lost in each other, oblivious to our surroundings.
The look of ecstasy on your face the first time that I came inside you.
Three days of being a zombie after pushing you away.
An hour of exhilaration, driving to Cincinnati to finally be with you, after getting asecond chance to be happy with you.
A summer spent in a high rise bedroom, day dreaming and planning a life together.
A smashed ironing board that had it coming.
Dinner and Mojitos in Miami.
A day on an island beach together, on a Caribbean island seemingly created for just us.
Running for our lives, $20 windfall in hand from Atlantis.
Making out on the ship at the pool party.
Making out pretty much everywhere else in public.
Our first Christmas and New Years together, and all that followed.
Our time in West Chester and Fairfield, spending moments with ghosts from the past – both good and bad, and both driving through the country, as well as in our apartment.
A box of crackers skittering across the floor toward my feet with bad intent.
Expanding your knowledge of football, while you expanded my knowledge of music, theatre, etc.
Nine Inch Nails!
Our first opera together.
The CD’s you made for me to listen to while I made the hour drive to work and back.
Painting our first apartment together, and eating Italian food while sitting on lawn furniture.
A whirl wind day of work, divorce papers, marriage license, and preparation, culminating in the bonding of two souls who were truly meant to be together.
A night at Putters, enjoying long islands, as well as a band whose name we can’t remember.
Working out, and laying by the pool together during our first year in Kentucky.
A lovely weekend on Dream Street.
Crying and hugging one another, before I had to go to Chicago, our first night apart since we got together.
An over turned kitchen cart, courtesy of yours truly (not my best moment).
Adopting the girls, and watching them grow together.
Our big beautiful house, and putting it together just right.
Backyard parties with all of our friends and family.
Grape vines and trees: although we never got to see them flourish, I know we left them for some lucky family to love as we did.
Crying in the bathroom at Mayfield, while you had your back surgery.
Shopping in Mexico, and smuggling Cuban cigars home.
The night we “made” new friends, before we had to bail your brother out of jail.
Clinging to each other, as we left our house for the last time.
Rock Band in our little attic hide away.
TFH and Capricious make a porno! With a little help from a boy toy
Watching Tyler moon and stress over his cute girl friend.
Get aways to Scottie’s cabins, and the uncomfortable looks on his face as we expressed our unbridled desire for each other.
A wonderful Thanksgiving at the Gorge.
Trists while out in nature.
Our moments together that seem too short, and moments away that seem like eternity.
Napping together in a hospital bed.
Watching Aphrodite hulk out on a stray cat – behind the safety of a patio door.
Cheech and Chong, A German woman in drag, a hot tub, indoor pool, and an hors d’oeuvres picnic in Columbus.
Roger Waters performing The Wall, and the classic look on your sister’s face when we told her that the women hitting on her was a transsexual.
“I really like you (In classic Kentucky twang) I want you to be our tenant.”
Walks along the river, and drives in the country.
Lunch at a tiny sandwich shop outside of Frankfort. All because Guy Fieri said so.
Our trip to Gatlinburg.
Pointing out that you could be related to the clerk at the gift shop at the museum in Cherokee.
Our twin nieces in a frigid wading pool.
Dine and dash with Teagan, after waiting 45 minutes for a check that never came.
The two months we spent every second of every day together.
Discovering that yes, we did know our way around tools and building materials.
The way we literally devour things that we become passionate about. Like each other for instance.
The way we share together: Absolutely nothing seems to be out of bounds or off the table.
I know these aren’t in exact order, and that there are so, so many more memories that define our love and life together. Furthermore, there are so many more things to come as we walk hand in hand down this path we know as life. I’m going to keep this list close and add both past and present memories as time goes by. There are so many good things to come in our life. I know it. I love you with all my heart my darling soul mate.
Happy anniversary gorgeous. Thank you for choosing me
Post script: This is going on the list.
That magical 8th anniversary celebration on Buck Crossing. It was everything that I hoped for and more.
I’ve decided to break into Beneath the Tin Foil hat to leave a small tribute to TFH on our 8th wedding Anniversary. Yes, you’re about to find out that two of the most derisive voices in the blogosphere actually have mushy middles–but only when it comes to each other–so don’t worry, we’ll be back to our cynical selves tomorrow
Infinity by Eights(For David)
Eight years. To some, eight years is a fast tick on a vast clock, blink of a giant eye, brushing aside of a crumb. If I could measure out each moment with you, I’d have a lifetime’s sum of love. You fill me with lives lived, possibilities for more, eternities we’ve experienced and left me wanting more. How could a lifetime be so short, so complete, yet this hunger never slaked? Eight more years I think I’ll stay, and blink and blink and blink again.
This poem was originally posted on Capricious Lestrange