Matthew 7:15 or: "The Rise of Gilead"

See You Next Tuesday!

You'll notice I didn't use that crazy-eyes picture of Ms Bachmann for this piece. In fact, I specifically looked for one that was attractive. And there is no doubt, the former Intelligence Committee member (insert your own oxymoron joke here) is an attractive woman. And so is She Who Must Not Be Named. And why is that? Because the Christian Right (which I will forever and ever continue to insist, is neither) is middle America. Breadbasket, small town, Ozzies and Harriets; Beavers and Wallys., who go to work  and school and church and do and believe everything people in authority tell them to do and believe. The people in authority? Well, they'll lie and scare and do anything they can to keep Ozzie and Harriet under their thumbs. The Face of Hate in America isn't a white man under a white hood or a skin-head Neo-Nazi. No, my friends, the Face of Hate in America is Mom. 

Bachmann continues to spread lies about LGBT people (I can only suppose) in the hope that they will get her elected in 2016. They should get her censured, at the least. You can read and /or listen to her most recent offensive comments at Thenewcivilrightsmovement.com, if you are so inclined. Though I must comment on one quote in particular. It is one of the oldest and most proven incorrect lie these hate-fueled dimwits use when trying to justify their hate:

•  "Also, they want to abolish age of consent laws. We would do away with statutory rape laws, so adults would be able to freely prey on little children sexually. That’s the deviance that we’re seeing embraced in our culture today.”   

This lie continues to be spread by the Right, even though every reputable therapist, psychologist and psychiatrist refutes it. Of course, how can we expect the the truth (or even anything sensible) from a woman who claimed that the HPV vaccine did the following to a 12 year old girl in FL:  "(she)... took that vaccine, that injection -- and suffered from mental retardation thereafter." Really? So, you are using an archaic and generally accepted as offensive word, while blaming the offensive (to you) condition on a medically sound prophylaxis which has been proven safe and effective? Hmmm... so I suppose when you got your Polio suger-cube, you got Polio? I know I did. NOT! (Yeah, immature, I know - but at least I read).

In Margaret Atwood's chilling 1985 novel, "The Handmaid's Tale," America in 2195 has devolved into a dystopian Christian theocracy called The Republic of Gilead, where women (especially unmarried women) have no say over what happens to them. The central character Offred, is the titular 'handmaid,' basically a baby factory for the ruling class. In Atwood's Gilead, LGBT people are labeled 'gender traitors' and hanged. This is exactly what the Right wants, only they don't want to wait another 170 years. They want it now. And they present it as truth. And the weak and uneducated believe them. Because they look like Mom. And so what if Dad is fruitier than you're Uncle P? He can cure himself with 'Reparative Therapy," praise Jebus! Reverend Shambock says it's so! Of course, neither of your two Uncle Ricks' eating habits are helping... 

Listen, I don't care what you believe. Personally, I wish no one believed (because it would end so many conflicts and so much hatred). And yes, I have plenty of friends who are believers of one faith or another. I don't dislike or shun them because of it. And yes, the vast majority of my believer friends are progressive liberals like Uncle P.

 I do care about your politics, though. But when your politics are based on your dogma, you get a very smelly tire fire that needs to put out well-before even coming close to being a problem.

And while I can't speak for any of you (or however many are left, at this point), I refuse to go back in the closet for June effing Cleaver on Zoloft!

Rant over. Enjoy your weekends! 

More, anon.
Prospero

A Sad Waste of Life

Glad I'm Not the First to Make this Comparison

So, on the day of the 2014 vernal equinox, the Reverend Fred Phelps (one of, if not THE most hated men in America) kicked the bucket. Bought the farm. Expired. Became an ex-human. Oh, wait -- maybe not that last one. Seems like he'd already done that to himself a long time ago.

Westboro Baptist started in 1955 as a branch of a small church in Topeka, where Fred Phelps was the assistant pastor. After his promotion to pastor of the new church on the other side of town, Phelps soon cut off all relations with the founding group. In 1964, Phelps earned his Juris Doctorate at Washburn and became a civil rights activist, defeating Jim Crow laws in Kansas. Somewhere along the way, Phelps lost his mind and became a religious fanatic, forcing his views on his family with threats and beatings (according to many who have since left the WBC, including Phelps' son Nate, now an LGBT rights activist in Canada). Disbarred in Kansas in 1979 and in Federal Court ten years later, Phelps and his followers (now mostly just members of his family) began their infamous picketing in 1991. By 2001, everyone knew the Westboro Baptist Church and their message of "God's" hatred of homosexuality. Phelps infamously told talk-show host (and original Tracy Turnblad) Ricki Lake the he "...worshiped her rectum..." after appearing on her show in 1994. Lake reportedly had Phelps forcibly removed from the studio.

But then a wonderful thing happened along the way... people started to hear and see Phelps' message for the lies and hate it was. A spotlight was shone on their bigotry and people took notice and started to rethink their own thoughts on LGBT people. So that was good, I suppose. 

Last year, a sort of coup was staged at WBC. Phelps, ailing and possibly softening his views, was excommunicated and the church elected a group of 8 Elders while ousting Shirley Phelps-Roper as WBC's official spokesperson. These details are just coming to light after it was announced earlier this week that Phelps was near death.

And while some might rejoice at the news of Phelps' death, I can't help but think of the sad waste of time and energy that was his life. If he and his congregation had spent just a tenth of that time and energy helping those in need as they did spreading hatred, the world would be a much better place.  Meanwhile, the WBC (having learned nothing) has announced that it's business and picketing* as usual for the SPLC-identified hate group. And of course, this could be the next step toward drinking the Kool-Aid -- and how sad would that be? There are still children there, being indoctrinated in hatred by fear. So, very sad...

Still, I can't imagine anyone wants to leave this world known for their hateful, hurtful actions, even if they are insane enough to truly believe they are doing the opposite. I'd like to believe that maybe Fred did soften near the end. maybe even felt bad about he'd done, or at least how he'd done it. I'd like to, but I don't. 

Here's what TMZ had to say:

*On a side note - in a purely self-serving move to generate publicity for JTMF's production of The Most Fabulous Story Ever Told, we tried desperately to get WBC to come protest. Sadly, their protest calendar was already full that summer. 

More, anon.
Prospero

21st Century Flaws

I have to wonder why, in the second decade of the 21st Century, the majority of our planet's citizens remain a bunch of superstitious, uninformed and downright ignorant jerks.

The Russians have basically declared war on the LGBT community. Muslim nations continue to subjugate women and criminally punish gay people just for being themselves. Republican asshats like Rick Perry refuse to recognize basic Human Rights and fear-mongering jerkwads like Bryan Fischer are allowed to spread hateful lies about Nazis being gay.

I know... I've been on this particular soapbox for a long time. But it's a soapbox I will not step down from until everyone realizes what a bunch of a-holes they're being.

And it's not just an LGBT issue. Middle-Eastern women are still having acid thrown in their faces or being murdered for expressing their autonomy. Children are still being sold into slavery (both sexual and menial). Refugees seeking better lives are still being exploited by farmers, pimps and pornographers. Dictators are using unspeakably awful weapons against their own people. Horrors are still being perpetrated against people all over the globe. Why? It's not like there are no agencies or groups trying their best to put a stop to these atrocities. In fact, there are probably more such groups than ever before.

Sadly, fear; greed and avarice have been part of the Human Condition since the Dawn of Civilization (and probably even before). There will always be people in power who care only about themselves. There will always be people who perpetrate evil deeds for their own gain. There will always be people who prey on the fear of death to fill their own pockets. I fear there may be no way to stop them, short of killing them. And that's awful, too.

No, I'm not saying I advocate Communism. We've all seen how well that system works. I am, however, advocating Humanism. Do what's right because you know it's the right thing to do, rather than doing what someone else says their version of "God" says it's the right thing to do. Treat every person you come across as you would want them to treat you (sound familiar?).

This is 2013. We all should be past this crap and trying to figure out how to feed, clothe and house everyone on the planet we all share.

I have no idea how to fix this mess (well, maybe a few, which many would reject), but I suspect that Education has the best chance of doing so. That and the eradication of irrational religious beliefs. But that just brings us back to fear...

Maybe Global Warming is the answer, after all. Humans seem to be the worst thing to happen to Earth since the extinction of the dinosaurs. I hope the cockroaches will take better care of the planet than we have, once we're gone.

Rant over (for now). More of my usual nonsense, anon.
Prospero

I Still Hate Squirrels

Mmmm... Uriney!

So, even after an evil squirrel doomed my Zebra finches to a what was an undeniably horrible fate, they continue to plague me. Last year, they destroyed any hope of my having home grown tomatoes (there just isn't a better tomato than the one you've grown at home). This year, the little bastards dug up and ate at least half of my lily bulbs. And the little bastards love hanging onto my bird feeder. 

I've tried just about everything I was told to try. They laughed at the mothballs. They ran from the water pistol, but came back. They ignored the pepper spray, even when I hit them in the face with it. And while someone told me that she had success using a ceramic raccoon, I was unable to find a realistic one at a reasonable price. 

So coyote urine pellets are now my last resort (short of actually shooting them, which I don't think my neighbors would appreciate). I placed my order for Shake-Away time-released coyote urine pellets at Garden.com earlier this evening. Of course, coyotes are not native to my suburban PA neighborhood, so I'm not sure how the evil rats with fuzzy tails will react to it. I hope they will quake in fear and avoid my yard forever. Otherwise, I will have wasted yet another $30 on a product that doesn't work.

Do you have or have you had a squirrel or other rodent problem? How did you deal with it? Were you successful? Tell me what you did.

Oh, how I hate these thieving little creeps! Any and all suggestions as to how to keep them out of my garden are welcome.

More, anon.
Prospero

Good Riddance to Evil Appliances

Keep Away from Belladonna and Baby's Blood

My house is Mid-Century Cookie Cutter. Of course, some unusual renovations to the interior by the original owners have left me with some very limited choices when it comes to where and how things fit, particularly in my already small kitchen. Eight years ago, my 25-year-old refrigerator gave up the ghost. Of course, like an aging pet or an elderly relative, the older it got, the more I prepared myself for its eminent demise. When I went to replace it, finding one to fit the space I had wasn't easy and I ended up with a Kenmore which I quickly grew to despise.

The non-adjustable shelves were in a very odd configuration, leaving little space for tall things like pitchers and bottles. The freezer had one wire-rack shelf with too much space between the rungs, making it almost impossible to have a level stack of packages, let alone a stable place for ice cube trays. Within a week of running out of warranty, one of the vegetable crisper drawers partially disintegrated in my hand, rendering it practically useless. The exterior was some kind of textured vinyl, making it almost impossible to keep clean and while the freezer door refused to not swing all the open, the fridge door had to be tapped with a knee to close tightly. 

Still, I expected the Effer to last longer than 8 years. Yes, after a slow but steady decline that started with milk-shake-like ice cream two weeks ago ended tonight with me unloading and purging the whole damned thing, filling both my big trash can and my recycling bin to the brim. The thought of lugging them to the curb tomorrow night, along with the yard stuff I managed to get done yesterday, makes me cranky, like a baby with a saggy diaper that leaks. I was able, thanks to a giant cooler and bagged ice, save a lot of the newer produce and dairy. And the chest freezer on the back porch is full, so no one's going hungry anytime, soon. Seems like I just did this last Fall...  

A replacement is scheduled to arrive tomorrow. When I finish this post, I will take my vodka out of the freezer and unplug the hellspawn forever. Of course, I fear that when they take it away, they'll forget to take off one of the doors at the dump and a diseased rat will be trapped in it and die. And then a small dog or a raccoon, followed by some form of Belladonna and some baby's blood and it will become an unstoppable demonic machine, devouring anyone in it's path and growing larger and larger with the ingestion of each victim.

Well, that's just silly, isn't it? No sillier than the nonsense that's been going on around Uncle P's house, lately. I have to check with my electric company (PECO here in southeastern PA) because I may get an energy credit for the new one (the commercial for which is where that goofy monster fridge image comes from).

To quote the great Gilda Radner (look her up!):

"It's always something. If it's not one thing, it's another. Either you smoke or you have a sweatball hanging off of your nose." Seriously, if you don't know this, look it up. Gilda was a comedy genius. Anyway, as much I hate the rigamarole and extra work the Kenmore's death has caused me, I will be very happy to have a brand-new fridge when I get home from the Day Job, tomorrow. I know there is a Robot Hell, but is there an Appliance Hell? I hope so. And I hope that horrible old Kenmore fridge rots there, writhing in imaginary anthropomorphized pain for all eternity. That is of course, until that first rat...

Sorry. I'm in a mood. What are you trying to do, make me sick? Goodnight my little Roseanne Rosannadannas! I hope you clicked those links!

More, anon.
Prospero

Nope! He's a-No Longer de Pope!**

Insert The Omen Theme Here

My Day Job Co-Worker: "The Pope's stepping down!"

Uncle P: "He never should have stepped up."

Other Co-Worker: "You got that right! He should never have been Pope in the first place." 

The single most unpopular Pope in modern history*, Pope Benedict today announced that he is resigning due to his age and health. He is the first Pope to resign in over 400 years. Of course, Benedict had a hard act to follow. John Paul II was the most beloved Pope in modern history; a charismatic man who survived an assassination attempt and exuded kindness. Benedict, an honestly creepy old man with Draconian values turned out to be not only horrendously homophobic but complicit in covering up sexual abuse while a bishop in Germany. Corruption, depravity and hypocrisy are nothing new in the Catholic Church. Perverts, pederasts and murderers have all been Pope, many times over. Of course today, shaman and fakirs hold much less power over rationalism and people aren't afraid to tell the truth, especially when those they were supposed to be able to trust, violated them so personally and so horribly.

Such an historic announcement certainly seems to me to have deeper and exceptional significance in the secret annals of the Vatican vaults. I truly believe that there is a secret being buried that is so explosive, the Church would never recover should it get out. 

Now you know me. I'm hardly a conspiracy nut. But if any organization has reason to conspire a cover-up. it's the Holy Roman Catholic Church. No, I'm not suggesting that that ridiculous DaVinci novel is true. Or that Beyonce's flashing of an Illuminati sign at the Superbowl was the signal to take German Joe down. Of course, Pat Robertson would have you believe 'Nemo' (I still think that's a stupid name for a storm, Jules Verne be damned) is punishment for the states which approved Marriage Equality in November. Hey, Pat. 'Nemo' is nature's punishment for us abusing the environment, ya douche.

Many LGBT groups are happy to see Benedict go. 'Other Co-Worker' predicted we will see a Pope of color next, citing several Brazilian Cardinals on the "short list." Okay. Still, no one should get too excited about real progress in the Church any time soon. The Cardinals are still all a bunch of old men, obsessed with sex because they aren't supposed to have it. What's that saying about the deliciousness of forbidden fruit? Absurd doesn't even begin to cover it.

Secular society will move forward first, and the Church will eventually follow in another generation or two (they'll have to, if they want to remain relevant to the few remaining followers they'll have by then). People are still afraid to let go of superstition, though the tide is turning toward rationalism and reason. It amazed me to see how freeing it was to do so. Life is too short and too precious to worry about what happens later. What matters is now. 

I can't stress this enough: If you are living a lie because some religious leader told you that you were evil; if you are afraid of what people will think of you; if you think your family will abandon you... the worst thing that's going to happen to you is going to happen to every single one of us, no matter what we do. Why not enjoy the very brief gift we've been given to its fullest? Don't hide your light under a bushel (you should pardon the reference, no matter how relevant). Come out and love the life you deserve with someone who deserves your love.

And the next time you complain when you can't get cell-phone reception, think about the kid in some refugee camp who can't get enough food to keep the cramps away. 

Don't live your life the way someone else tells you should. Live it in the way you know you should. Live the way that brings joy to you, those that you love and those who love you back. They are the only ones who matter. Trust me.

So, maybe this video is the big secret. Or the one below:

Oh, how love crazy people. I have no doubt the Pope is evil. Just not in the way these nutjobs have concluded. Benedict is evil in the way that all people who perpetrate mythology as truth; homophobia as righteous and hate as love, are evil.

You have no power here. Begone, before someone drops a house on you!

More, anon.
Prospero

*You gotta be pretty bad to be less popular than a Nazi sympathizer.

**Once a Musical Theatre Geek, always a Musical Theatre Geek

The Worst American Ever

'Douchebag' Is Too Kind a Word

John Boehner and the Repugnican-controlled House represent everything that is wrong with American politics, today. 

Walking off the the floor Monday night without even considering a relief bill to aid the the tens of thousands of victims of Superstorm Sandy in NY and NJ, Boehner cemented himself as the most-hated man in America. It certainly didn't help that on Friday, Boehner told Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid "Go f*ck yourself!" Twice. Really? This is how civilized adults conduct the business of the country?

By the way, that spinning sound you are hearing right now? It's coming from Lincoln's grave. 

It's pretty bad when even members of his own party are calling him out for his disgraceful, childish and callous disregard for the people whom he has sworn to protect. I'm not generally a fan of homophobic NJ Governor Chris Christie, but it's pretty bad when the party darling gives a press conference calling out Boehner's shameful behavior (via):

I may live in PA, but I was born in NJ, grew up in NJ and most of my friends and family live in NJ. I've spent many a Sunday afternoon on the boardwalk in Seaside Heights and more than a few dollars in the casinos of Atlantic City. The majority of the Theatre work I've done has been in NJ and there are very few weeks when I don't spend at least an evening there. It sickens me that Boehner and his cronies are so obsessed with their own agendas that they can't be bothered to help the very people they were elected to serve.

So go ahead and cry your crocodile tears, John Boehner. No one is buying your act anymore. Worst Person of the Year doesn't even cover it. You sir, are the Worst American in History. Go f*ck yourself, indeed!

More, anon.
Prospero

The Worst Music Videos You'll See This Week

Lexy and Stephany

If nothing else, Uncle P tries to be entertaining. Sometimes that means gorgeous, smart and inspiring. Other times it means hideous, stupid and just plain awful. From the reviews I've read, the Lindsay Lohan as Elizabeth Taylor Lifetime Movie "Liz and Dick"* falls into the latter category. As do the videos I have posted below.

The lunatics at BoingBoing pointed me to the "Teen Sensation" duo of Lexy and Stephany, who have apparently been causing some sort of commotion on their YouTube channel. Longtime readers know that Prospero is a bit of a music aficionado and I love introducing people to new and interesting singers and musicians. They also know that I love to point out all sorts of terrible things, so my readers might avoid and/or seek them out. Make no bones about it, Lexy and Stephanie are terrible! And by terrible, I mean bottom of the barrel. I'd rather listen to Rebecca Black's "Friday" for a year than hear anything by these two. If given a choice by gunpoint, I'd rather see a Coldplay concert than Lexy and Stephanie. In fact, if given a choice, I'd rather swim in a pool full of snakes, scorpions and spiders...

See and hear for yourselves:

And then there is this:

Are your ears and eyes bleeding, yet? 

Mob mentalities and Black Friday riots at Walmart aside, I think I'd rather get punched in the face than listen to another song by Lexy and Stephany. How did this happen, people? How have two  untalented, prepubescent, braces-clad teens with rich Daddies infiltrated modern pop culture? One can only hope that their fifteen minutes will be mercifully short. And yes -- I can be a bitch, sometimes. But only when warranted.

*Full disclosure: John Elliot is a friend and I have no problem linking to his hilarious review.

More, anon.

Prospero

Trickle Down Effect, Fear and Hate Edition

Whitebriar Bed and Breakfast/Camp/Farm

Sing along with me, now: Here-a-'phobe, there-a-'phobe, everywhere a homophobe. Old McDonald had a farm. LGBT No.

Mostly eclipsed by (though certainly a part and result of) what from now on shall be referred to as "The Great Gay Chicken Wars of 2012." I first saw this story on Towleroad, and tried to post about it last night, but had some technical difficulties (I"m sure it was my horrible typing grazing over a random combination of keys that just screwed it up) and was unable to. Anyway...

Whitebriar Bed and Breakfast in Edgewater Park, NJ (within easy driving distance of my home in southeastern PA), is a multi-operation business that includes the B&B; an inn; an "Organic Green Cafe;" a children's farm camp and a small working farm. Owners Carol and Bill Moore are in their sixties, and I am sure are otherwise "lovely people" who happened to put a sign out front supporting opportunistic Mike "Don't Forget About Me for a Running Mate, Mitt" Huckabee and Christy McSweatervest's "Support Chick-fil-A Day."

Local mom Joianne Fraschilla was out walking with her son, who apparently enjoyed seeing the animals and gardens on walks his mom, when she spotted the sign. Fraschilla, a lesbian, went home and looked up Whitebriar on Facebook, where she found the Camp Whitebriar page and posted her dismay:

"This is somewhere my son loves to pass by and we have been excited to visit. Not any more. I'm sad to see a local business anti-LGBT marriage."*

Now, a few words before I post the response Fraschilla received. First, I want to talk about the Facebook page (still available, though now apparently closed to comments). The photos on the page paint an idyllic landscape of the kind of place I would have hated to have gone as a kid. There's a smiling Granny surrounded by several children of various ages and ethnicities - some of them holding beautiful little chicks; adorable ducklings paddling about in a big ceramic bowl; a vegetable garden; smiling children; baby animals; more baby animals and what appears to be homespun, wholesome, educational fun.

Second: the Moores are a rural couple of my mother's generation, who very likely don't know any gay people (or at least don't know that they know at least one). When they were my age, being gay was still illegal and thought to be a mental illness. They don't know any better, because the lie has been drilled into their heads by just about every authority figure they've ever know, ever since they could understand (and spew back) speech. . I have a college theatre friend who lives in western Florida (very near where my sister lives). Marousa is a gorgeous, loving, supportive; generous and strong Greek survivor/warrior/Earth Mother who actually got married on the stage at the theatre where we went to school. I imagine that a farm camp experience at Marousa's camp is more fun than any kid deserves to have. I can't imagine what kind of experience Whitebriar provides, though Carol Moore's response was, in part, this:

"Isn't it wonderful that Joianne Fraschilla, that you and your son can enjoy the animals here because I have a traditional marriage with a husband who works with me 90 hours a week to take care of these animals and the summer camp.... We are 66 - 68 years old... there were no gays or queers in our time..." She goes on and on about how "gay lesbians" are "destroying 'the normal balance in a child's life'..." and, of all the most horrible things she could have said "...guess that's why God created AIDS..."*

Uncle P's mother is 70. She is an amazingly enlightened; often hilarious (often unintentionally); kind; compassionate; smarter than she thinks she is (or will admit to); stubborn-as-a-mule woman as you might hope to find. She grew up in a fairly rural (now fully suburban) part of west central New Jersey, though she was no stranger the city, where she moved as a teenager to live with her mother in the 1950's. The Moores have probably never spent more than a week or so in any given city of size. My mother says she was never really a believer, while the Moores most certainly always have been. My mother has a gay child. The Moores probably do not. My mother doesn't understand those who "drink the Kool-Aid" (she'd be appalled to know that she agrees with Marx). The Moores live on the stuff.

Here's the thing: Sitting in judgment of people about whom they know nothing; espousing opinions on a subject about which they know nothing, the Moores are perpetuating every negative 'Christian' stereotype by quoting parts of the Bible irrelevant to their faith, while eschewing Jesus' admonition to love EVERYONE. That's right - EVERYONE. If you want to be a Christian, you can't hate anyone. Fail, anyone?

I can't (nor would I) deny the Moores' right to believe whatever they want to believe. This country may have been first settled by Christians, but it was founded by men more interested in Human Rights than the archaic, superstitious teachings of any one church or religion. What upsets me most right now is how the Right is trying to spin all of this nonsense into a "Free Speech" issue. That couldn't possibly be further from the truth. This is all about a company that supports organizations who work to actively harm and deny rights to a minority. But no one is reporting that. Why? Je pleure, je pleure...

More, anon.
Prospero.

Real Life Monsters

Growing up, I was taught to believe there were no such things as monsters.

Of course, now I know that's not true. There are monsters. Monsters who disguise themselves as Human Beings. And even worse, those monsters pretend to be Christians, doing everything they can to pervert the teachings of the New Testament for their own means. And people wonder why I am against religion.

Three cases in point:

Case #1 - Texas Governor Rick Perry, who just yesterday released a hateful and decidedly un-Christian campaign video in a desperate attempt to attract homophobic rednecks into supporting his increasingly failing bid to secure the Republican nomination. See for yourselves (if you already haven't):

I feel sick just posting that. Of course, there have been several immediate responses to that hateful message. Thankfully, there are many sane (and often funny) responses to Perry's antiquated rhetoric. Here are two:

And I can't even tell you how many folks have compared Perry's attire in that video to that of Heath Ledger's in Brokeback Mountain. I'm sure he's blew his top at whomever clothed him that day by now. But that doesn't make him any less a monster.

Case #2 - Rick "Frothy Mix" Santorum, who continues to spread lies about how gay people are out to erode the "traditional American family." I have some news for you, Mr. Santorum; the traditional family has been on the wane since the 1960's, when people started to realize they had choices in how they conducted their personal lives which were protected by the Constitution. And the Catholic Church is so well-regarded in matters of sexual propriety these days, everyone agrees with you. NOT! Sadly, there are some people who agree with Santorum's nonsense. I'm happy to admit that I don't know a single one of them.

In fact, Santorum seems so obsessed with gay sex it makes me wonder if "... the Lady doth protest too much," if you know what I mean (wink-wink, nudge-nudge), Get a life, already, would you? Of course, 'gay panic' is the least of the Frothy Mix's worries. His polling numbers are so low, he's the butt (every pun intended) of even Tea Part jokes.

Finally, Case #3 - Pat Robertson. The successor as host of "The 700 Club" to that pillar of morality Jim Bakker, Robertson continues to spew lies and hatred disguised as Christian values. In response to Secretary of State Hillary Clinton's amazing and historic speech to the UN on International LGBT rights, Robertson had this to say:

Did Robertson conveniently skip the part about "Love thy neighbor?" And I have to think he's just ignoring that "The Wrath of God" has not come down upon Canada; Belgium; Iceland; Israel; Mexico; The Netherlands; Portugal; Spain; South Africa; Argentina; Sweden and Nepal for passing legislation allowing same-sex marriage. Or maybe he's become so isolated by his own ignorance, he doesn't even know that those countries exist. Fanaticism can do that, so I am told. 

Honestly, I don't know how these men sleep at night. I suppose they actually believe the lies they are spreading. I have to suppose they don't realize they are actually spewing hate speech. I hope they are simply blinded by what they believe to be the truth (as sad as that is). I can only hope they will one day wake up and realize how wrong they are. Until that day (should it ever come), I will continue to vote, write and speak against their lies, hate and intolerance. And I hope you will join me in doing so.

Okay - yet another rant over. Back to my usual nonsense, soon.

More, anon.

Prospero

Mom

It's Mother's Day. I was going to post a picture of my mother, but she'd kill me and I wouldn't want to upset her on her day.

Seriously, my mother is pretty terrific. All she ever wanted to be was a mother. She married my father at 18 and had me just a few months before she turned 20. It would be another 6 years before my sister came along. When we were kids, Mom loved snow days, because she got to spend the whole day with us. And she was practically ecstatic when our school district went on strike one September. It meant almost another whole month we could stay home and play with her. We would play board games, color, do paint-by-numbers and crafts. In fact, one of my earliest memories is playing with Colorforms at our dining room table in the tiny house my parents rented in Trenton, before we moved to the tiny house I grew up in, in Levittown.

When I was in High School, I had an opportunity to travel to France with my French class. Mom took a part-time job as a Playground Monitor at a local elementary school, so she could afford to send me. She often went without so my sister and I could have the things we wanted, whether it was designer jeans; tickets to the latest show in town or my sister's wedding. She taught us the basics of housekeeping - how to cook a meal; how to sew on a button; how to remove a stain from the carpet and (best of all) how to find a bargain. I swear, that woman would make a deal with devil if it meant saving money.

After my father finally left (what she often says is "...the second best thing to happen to me, after you kids."), she went to work full-time as a switchboard operator in a local department store, quickly working her way up to HR Assistant. After that, she landed a job with with mob-owned garbage disposal company. Then she worked for a BMW dealer and finally spent 19 years as the Customer Service Manager for a Cadillac dealer before finally retiring this past fall. And she had herself a rather wild time time during her late 40's and early 50's, even dating a Russian hottie who was only a few years older than me at the time. And when I finally worked up the courage to come out to her, she simply said "I knew" and cried - not because I was gay, but because she thought I didn't trust her enough to tell her sooner.

Lately, she's had her share of health issues and has slowed down quite a bit, but she can still make the best mashed potatoes you've ever tasted (though she has yet to teach me how to make her legendary pie-crust). These days, she spends most of her time reading (I can't remember a time when she didn't have a book with her), watching Oprah and The View and generally enjoying herself (when she isn't complaining about how she can't do all the things she used to be able to do).

For Mother's Day this year, I treated her to breakfast yesterday and bought her the latest novel from one of her favorite authors, as well as a beautiful new cushion for her favorite reading chair; all of which she loved. She'd be mightily embarrassed if she knew I was extolling her virtues in such a public venue, but her innate distrust of the Internet ensures she'll never find out (unless one of my friends that know her rats me out).

I hope all of you, dear readers, have as wonderful Mom as I do. And if you don't, just remember.. it could be worse:

Or you could have a Wicked Stepmother...

...in which case, I'm very sorry.



What a bitch!

Happy Mother's Day to all you 'Mothers" out there. I just hope you're all as great as mine.

More, anon.
Prospero

Squirrels are Evil!!!

So, I haven't talked much about the birds since the babies fledged last December. As you may remember, my attempts to unload the five new birds were unsuccessful and I found myself with seven Zebra Finches.

Okay, fine. So I have seven. They are cheerful and sweet and fun to watch, even if seven of them are a bit messier than I would have liked (two were bad enough), but fine. I clean the cage and vacuum the rug every week (the over-sized bath sheet I use as a drop cloth catches a lot, but not enough). I even bought a new cage and practically traumatized them in the transfer. But the cage had more room for them and was much easier for me to clean. Today was a general house-cleaning day for me. I did the bathroom (toilet, tub and sink), dusted the tables and entertainment center and ran the vacuum.

And, like every weekend since it's gotten warm enough to do so, I took the birds' cage and stand outside to clean it. Now, my biggest worry in doing this has always been the few feral cats that roam my neighborhood, but they are usually asleep somewhere during the day and they have not bothered them at all. Occasionally another bird (usually a wild and slightly larger finch) would land on top of the cage, but I've never had a problem with having them outside.

So today, I do the usual routine. I set them up in the side yard; shook the bath sheet out; emptied the seed tray and dumped the old newspaper. I was about to take the tray to the garden hose, so I could spray it down. My back was turned for 2 seconds when I heard this loud "Bang!" I turned back to see this completely evil, foul, malevolent, bushy-tailed rat of a squirrel clinging to the side of the cage as it is tipping over. As you can imagine, the cage came crashing down to the ground, breaking apart and scattering my birds to the skies in seven different directions, without any possible hope of catching a single one of them.

Now I know some of you are saying, "Well, birds don't belong in cages. They're meant to fly free." Which, to some extent, is very true. But this are Zebra Finches, birds which are native to Australia and which have been bred and raised in captivity; their food and water brought to them; their every need taken care of. I fear that in the wilds of southeastern Pennsylvania, they do not have much hope of surviving for very long. Especially my favorite, little Znowball, who being all white, has no camouflage from cats and other predatory birds. I went out several times, hoping to see them at the wild bird feeder I keep in my yard, and heard one peeping away in a nearby tree, but could not catch sight of it.

So, in conclusion, squirrels are the devil in a not-so-cute little rodent costume, waiting to wreak havoc on the human race at every given opportunity. I am not a fan. Sigh... just one more thing to add to my growing melancholy.

On a cheerier note, though...

I spent the evening with my good friend Dale. We had a lovely meal of grilled sausages and deli salads, with carrot cake for dessert. Then we walked down the hill of his expansive back yard (which backs up to a lovely park) to watch the Flemington municipal 4th of July fireworks show. Dale, who is an amazingly talented artist and scenic designer, also agreed to design my Eye of Horus tatt, based on my specs (a less-complicated variation of choice 'D,' if you're wondering). So the day wasn't completely awful, I suppose.

Oh, well. I've already decided that I'm getting a budgie, next week. I intend to teach it to talk and I'm keeping it's wings clipped, damnit!

More, anon.

Prospero