The Problem with Power

As I look back over the last four years, and recall as I watched on with horror as W manipulated his way back into the White House through preying on the homophobia and manufactured fear of middle America, it is tempting to take this time to celebrate how the mighty have fallen. A really obnoxious dance in the center of the end zone.

Things got so bad, particularly with the economy, that having an 'R' next to your name in the ballot box proved a death wish. Obama is great and ran an impressive campaign, but I would credit his victory to circumstances that were outside his control. The American people wanted a change and any of the 31 flavors would do.

Now the liberals are set to have an ally in the White House, someone who will stand up for them and work with the Democratic leadership in Congress to realign both foreign and domestic policy more to our liking. But, the lessons from the last eight years need to stay ingrained in the minds of the new policy makers: one party with a blank check will invariably disappoint. And something tells me they not interested in the lessons.

I choose cautious optimism. Human beings have this propensity for fucking things up once in a position of power. History teaches us this lesson. It is easy to sit on the sidelines and watch an incompetent leader and his ilk stumble into war through some renewed hunger for Manifest Destiny. It's a popular thing to protest and an even easier thing to pass off as being 'their' fault. However, the real lesson to take from the outgoing administration is that governing a country as diverse as the United States is best done thorough bipartisan consensus. Through a give and take where every side feels considered, feels a part of the process.

The temptation is the tell the conservatives to shove it up their ass. This would be a mistake. When you step back from the sensationalism of political discourse so represented today by Fox News on the right and MSNBC on the left you realize that Rush Limbaugh and Keith Olbermann are the same person. They are both extremists, both with egos large enough to fill their audiences insatiable hunger for hyperbole. The only thing that has changed is whose political party now holds the reigns of power.

The left has long thought of itself as the party of tolerance. The compassionate do-gooders that can come the rescue of those in need once conservatism has played itself out long enough. This, however, is really a facade. They, like everyone else, are tolerant of the things that they agree with and intolerant of all the rest.

Enter Rick Warren, the mega-church pastor and Christian guru that has been invited to give the opening prayer at Obama's inauguration next month. The secular left is crying foul. The gays are pissed. The drag queens are taking off their heels, reapplying lip liner, and weighing down their purses with paperweights for the perfect instrument to knock a bitch upside the head. And political pundits are dissecting it ad nauseum, reading much more into the invitation than it's worth.

The bizarre thing is this: a group of people that has been marginalized for so long in this country now have a taste of power and acceptance, and suddenly they seem appalled when their new president reaches across the aisle to include Americans that didn't even vote for him. I, personally, commend Obama for throwing the evangelicals a bone. Let's get a grip on ourselves, progressives. He is not appointing Rick Warren to the Supreme Court, or giving him a coveted cabinet position. He is saying a prayer, leading half the country in an oratory to their imaginary friend. Just grin and bare it. To do anything else is to continue this bitter divide the Republican's used to their political advantage over the last few election cycles.

Barack Obama ran on a message of changing the way Washington does business, and his selection of two Republicans in his cabinet and the steps he has taken to offer an olive branch to the evangelical community show me that he is on the right track. The Democrats certainly expect things out of him that he is simply not going to be able to deliver.

Self appointed gay leaders, like the Human Rights Campaign, need to be very careful about how they move forward. The risk of alienating themselves is very real. The conservatives find themselves in this position as a direct result of their behavior over the last few years. Real change in this country, be it in gay rights or a paradigm shift in how this nation interacts with the rest of the world, is going to take time. But that is the problem of power: once you have it, you don't see the future dilemmas and backlash that comes with brushing aside those that oppose you. The battle is really for the hearts and minds of individuals to join our causes, to put aside their old ways of thinking. And frankly, death is the great equalizer that guarantees change will come. The next generation usually offers social progress simply as a result of birthing fresh ideas into this world.

It would be a mistake to expect an Obama administration to cure all our ills. It would be wrong of progressives to feel neglected every time he bucks the party line in order the be the president of the entire country. Keep your coins, I just want some change.

Weathering the Northwest

I have not written for a while. There is a reason.

The weather sucks. And one thing that I have learned about myself is that my mood is greatly dictated by the weather. I have been depressed by the constant rain and darkness that has covered the upper left hand corner of the country for so long.

But tonight it is snowing. It's like magic. And it is supposed to snow for the rest of the weekend and a couple of times next week as well. Magic flakes falling ever so gracefully upon all the trees that I have looked at with such disdain for the last two months.

Ian and I went to the park tonight. We caught snowflakes with our tongues, watched other couples with their gay wig-like dogs, and held each other. It was fun. A nice change of pace from the regular wet, dark existence of Seattleites in winter.

The energy of everyone else was noticeable as well. People talked to each other, something that has not happened since the end of September. Maybe this is the universe giving us a break. Giving us a reminder that things really aren't all that bad. And they're not. The sun is always there, just beyond the clouds. Just because you can't see it, absorb the Vitamin D, and derive your sense of time from it, doesn't mean that it's not there. It is.

Depression is the human reaction to this weather. The clouds cover your essence and make you feel disconnected from the source. When you are used to feeling good, feeling powerful in your life, move to Seattle in the winter. It will teach you a lot about yourself. It will humble you quickly. You will learn that you are weak and whine like anyone else.

As a transplant from the South, you feel out of place. You privately discuss your struggle with the winter weather and absorb the negative energy with much greater sensitivity than those that have made their home here.

Color me humbled. But tonight it's snowing and I am smiling.

:-)

Two Sides of the Same Coin

As I sit down to write this, Barack Obama has been President-elect for three days now.

The American people did it! We looked past the fear the Republicans tried to spoon feed us over the last few weeks of the campaign and elected our first African-American President. The Republican party that George W. Bush ran into the ground over the last four years is going to have to find a new soul or pass away into history. The significance of this moment has not been lost on the media or the country at large.

I was overcome with emotion when I saw the great black icons of this nation burst into tears talking about what this moment means to them. For a people that has had to fight so hard for so much, the validation of what happened on Tuesday night will never be forgotten. The power of that moment will be with us forever. Two little black girls, that fifty years ago would not have been able to share the same water fountain with whites, will grow up in the White House. This makes me smile. Whoopi Goldberg said it was as if she could finally put her suitcase down. Welcome to our country.

While it is important to acknowledge the decades long battle of the civil rights movement culminating in the election of President Obama, the fact that he is black does not change the fact that our country has serious issues to face. I, like most of the people that voted for Obama, did so not because or in spite of his color, but because we believed that he is the man best equipped to deal with the problems we face as a nation. He will be tested and judged just as harshly for his missteps as for he triumphs over the next four years. He has the opportunity to rise to the occasion, and I believe that he will. The next few weeks will be very telling as he addresses the nation several times, puts together his transition team, and the portrait of an Obama Administration begins to take focus.

All of this excitement and sense of accomplishment is slightly overshadowed in my mind by something else that happened on Tuesday evening. As black people marveled at an event they never thought would happen in their lifetimes, gays and lesbians were reminded that they are still second class citizens in the eyes of the majority of the country. These issues are two sides of the same coin. With the passing of Proposition 8 in California, Proposition 102 in Arizona, Initiative 1 in Arkansas, and Amendment 2 in Florida, the struggle for gay equality took a hit.

In California, the Mormon church, a group that previously was so nationally hated that they had to escape to their own state, poured millions of dollars into the campaign to take away the marriage rights of gay and lesbians. Now, the irony of the Mormon church protecting "traditional marriage" is obvious. It has only been recently that the Mormon church has understood marriage to be between one man and one woman, and it was indeed their polygamist view of marriage that caused them all the persecution in the first place.

The other group that voted overwhelmingly to ban gay marriage in California is African-Americans. Again, the irony is clear. The civil rights movement as it applies to blacks marked a great victory this week. A victory that is shared and celebrated by the whole country regardless of race. Simultaneously, this same movement for equality suffered a setback in the same evening and serves as a warning to anyone that thinks our work is over. It is hard to explain this reaction from a group of people that also had to work so hard to receive full inclusion into our society.

From a personal standpoint, it is hard to not let a setback like this get to me. I think of my friends that have been married in California over the last few months, and my heart breaks for them to think that as quickly as it was given it has been taken away. I think of how I was raised to despise my sexuality, and constantly reinforced with the idea that gay people were perverts, freaks, and second class citizens. I think of the moment I decided that I could not live a lie anymore regardless of what the consequences were for coming out. In large part, it is this struggle that I carry with me, that will forever be a part of me, that allows me such empathy with the black community as they watch one of their own take the reigns of the country. It is exciting, it is a huge victory, and an even larger validation of the black community as valuable members of our society.

Several people called me up to offer their condolences regarding the gay marriage bans that passed this week. However, it is not just a chap on my ass, but on the ass of the entire country. As long as there is still a group of people in America that is denied their civil rights, the full potential of our country will never be realized.

It also needs to be noted that this gay marriage issue is not like many other issues in politics. There is a clear right and a clear wrong. One side is struggling for their rights to be fully included in society. The success of something like this matters deeply to them, and has very real effects in their every day lives. And what of those that voted for the ban? They go about their daily lives and probably don't think about it again. In fact, I am sure that their vote came out of such unconsciousness that the harm it caused a group of people that has known nothing but struggle for inclusion in society is completely lost on them.

However, there is reason for hope. This is what this whole election season has been about, we want to have a renewed sense of hope. Proposition 8 passed by the slimmest of margins. It indicates progress. There will be another vote. And another. And another. Until we win. Public opinion is changing, and the manufactured fear that comes with an issue like gay marriage will continue to dissipate. The churches that fought so hard for this ban will not go unpunished. Perhaps they won this round, but what has been said cannot be taken back. They have shown their cards, their true character, and where does that leave them in ten years? Twenty years? When 52% of the electorate is no longer on their side?

You reap what you sow. And you don't want to fuck with gay people. Many of us have been through too much in our personal lives to be intimated by religious fanatics and intolerance. This gay is never going to sit down and shut up. I will see gay marriage in my lifetime. I will see more and more gay elected officials in my lifetime. I will see a gay Speaker of House, and maybe someday even a gay president. And I will see the day when gay is not even an issue anymore. Just a boring fact about someone's personal life.

Walnuts, Peanuts, and Religous Nuts

I just saw Bill Maher's new film, Religulous. It was fantastic and I enjoyed it thoroughly. He did a good job portraying the absurdity of religion, all religion, in a way that was not offensive or sarcastic as to turn the people who really need to see this film off from it.

Of course I am talking about religious people. People that think they talk to Jesus or Allah. Or better yet, that God talks to them. As I grow older I find it amazing that adults actually believe in these stories. A talking snake, a virgin birth, a zombie Lord, and a burning bush seem to me like kid stories. Perhaps this is because I believed them when I was a kid. But then, you have to wonder about the adults that were teaching your Sunday school. Do they actually believe all of these things? There had to be some of the shit they were passing out as divine truth that gave them pause, right?

Teaching your child good moral values is one of the responsibilities of a parent, but can't we come up with some way to do it other than force feeding them fairy tales that could lead to many years of disillusionment and frustration when the facade begins to crack? It is almost unthinkable to me that any parent would be OK with teaching their child all the bells and whistles of their religion which always boil down to this: we are going to heaven and everyone else is going to hell.

As you grow older there comes a time when you're old enough to be told that Santa Claus is not real. Or at least inquire a bit further into it. What do you mean that he visits every house all in one night? What does he do the rest of the year, and how come I have never seen an elf? Oh, he's not real? What about Jesus?

A big one to me is the claim that the Earth is 5000 years old and was created in seven days. Now, I know people that are intelligent, rational human beings in a variety of aspects in their lives that believe this. New rule: if you are going to spit in the face of scientific discovery so you don't have to let go of your imaginary friend, then you have to give up the conveniences that scientific discovery affords us. Like cell phones, computers, electricity and the Internet. A friend of mine from high school recently corrected me when I used the rounded term "5000 years old" to refer to Earth. It's closer to 6200 years old according to scripture, he said. Well, I'll be damned.

This is the fundamental problem with religion. It causes people to be crazy and to manifest their insanity into the world we all share. It makes people believe things about themselves, their relationship with others, and their relationship with God that simply are not true. When you bring up some of the gaping holes in their story they assert that they have "faith," simultaneously implying that you do not. There is simply nothing virtuous about believing strongly in something for which there is no evidence. That's called being stubborn and thick headed. Some of the creationists say that God placed evidence, like dinosaur fossils that are millions of years old, to test their faith. That's right, God is just fucking with us. That bastard.

Some of the beliefs are more harmful than others. If you believe that Jesus was born of a virgin, ultimately that is fine. But if you believe that the book of Revelation, or the Islamic prophecies about the End Times are real, then the potential to bring real harm into this world is greatly increased. Millions of Christians would see a silver lining in a mushroom cloud over Jerusalem and point to it as one of the signs of the Second Coming of Christ. The nuclear holocaust thing, us humans can pull of without God's help which is why it is so dangerous to believe it is going to happen, or to even hasten its arrival because of our wacky fairy tales. It's seems odd to me that people can't just accept that that the future is unwritten and we as a civilization have the power to steer it in one direction or another. But all of our religions have some sort of story about how all the shit is going to go down, and people believe it. Self fulfilling prophecy, anyone?

The burden is not on the nonreligious to disprove religion. The Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy cannot ultimately be disproven. Just highly unlikely. If you want to believe in a guy that lived for three days in the belly of a great fish, fine. But don't get all defensive when someone tells you that you are full of shit. Because you are.

My favorite part of the movie is when Bill interviews one of the ex-gay ministers. Ex gays are hilarious for so many reasons, and I can really appreciate the absurdity because I used to strive to be one. They don't believe in gay people and therefore are both confused and confusing. But it is fun to watch them scwerm and try to explain to Bill Maher, who does believe in gay people, their view of things. Bill just sits there and flirts with them, and they don't get it. Priceless.

True spirituality, which can be arrived at through religion but almost never is, should be commended. It can heal your body, reconcile you back to your divine nature, dissolve conflict in the world, and cook you dinner. Religion, however, is ridiculous and Bill Maher made a movie about it. Go check it out and invite one of your religious friends. It will lead to some very provocative conversations.

Dirty Toothbrushes

Seattle is a sexually liberated city compared to, say, Nacogdoches, Texas. This is no more evidenced then by Dan Savage's column in The Stranger, a local newspaper. His "Savage Love" column is Ann Landers tied up, stripped down, spanked raw, and fucked hard. Only without the wrinkles and heavy aroma of moth balls.

Savage honestly has the best job in the world. He is a sex advice columnist that happens to be gay, which I suppose makes people very comfortable in writing to him some of their most kinky fantasies and naughtiest pleasures. Every week the letters that get printed seem almost too outrageous to be true. A heterosexual male is having trouble finding a woman who is comfortable strapping it on and giving it to him in the ass while he is wearing her bra and panties. A mother, snooping around in her adult daughter's house, finds a closet full of leather toys, bondage accessories, and BDSM pornography, and wonders what she should do about it. An inquisitive reader wonders what is the proper protocol for dealing with a unexpected situation involving anal sex and poop.

All of this is printed in a newspaper that is available for free at every store in the city. If you can read, you can read this. You will see women in their sixties reading it on the bus in the middle of the afternoon, and you think to yourself "I wonder what she thinks about the woman who can only have an orgasm if she smokes pot right before sex, but needs advice about how to keep her dry mouth wet for oral sex." Then, come to think of it, this woman was probably the one who wrote in.

Growing up in Lubbock, Texas, where the wind never stops blowing and periodically the sky turns the dark brown color of the city's soul, sexual deviancy is not discussed and certainly not written about in a weekly periodical. The sex education that I received in public high school would shock most of my friends that grew up in other areas of the country.

The man who was responsible for the vast majority of the sex education in the public schools of Lubbock, TX was a guy named Ed Ainsworth. Sex Ed, as he was called. Ed was a local youth pastor by day and a self appointed sex gestapo by night. I am not sure what was going through the mind of the school board on this decision, but who knows why anyone does the things they do?

Now Ed had this certain charm to him. Something that just made you never want to have sex. The core of his teaching, and what I remember to this day, was that if you had sex before you were married you were like a dirty toothbrush. You would not want to use a toothbrush that someone else had used, right? And who wants to marry a dirty toothbrush if they are passing clean ones at the dentist? So don't have sex, kids. Oh, and condoms don't work, so don't even try.

However, I would use a toothbrush that someone else had used if you washed it with soap and hot water, or if it was treated with antibiotics, or better yet if it was encased inside a condom while the other person was using it. Or if this other person was a good friend of mine and I knew where his mouth had been. In fact, looking back I suppose it is a miracle that my toothbrush and I still have an amicable relationship considering it is has been in a few mouths over the years. But, I digress. I would imagine that a column like Savage Love would not go over very well in a community like this. Or be really boring.

Dear Dan,
My wife and I were having our monthly sexual encounter when suddenly she screamed out "Oh, God, yes." I was quite startled by the outburst and particularly concerned that she broke the second commandment. How can I keep her from shaming the Lord while remaining fruitful and multiplying in the missionary position.
Hopelessly Holy and Horny

As a culture at large we are taught to be ashamed of our sexuality, but I think that this is particularly true of the South. We are constantly inundated with the idea that sex is dirty and bad and is to be saved for marriage. I am not really sure where this started, but human beings have evolved to shun everything pleasurable in the search for divine truth. This includes all forms of sex, drugs, feather boas, and RuPaul. Somehow this endeavor has left us desperately disconnected from each other, our divine nature, and even our own bodies.

This becomes apparent when you blush reading Dan Savage's column. Most of the things that are in there are not really that strange. All kinds of people have anal sex, we are just taught not to talk about it. It is not nice. You know, I would wear black lace panties and high heels while spanking my partner with wet celery if that was what he was in to. It's not really my thing, but I think its fine. It would certainly break up the monotony of the work week. Please, hold that imagine of me in your head just a moment longer... :-) Black. Lace. Panties.

It shows some cultural progress that a person like Dan Savage is able to do what he does. If some of us are willing to air our dirty laundry, maybe we eventually realize that we all have it. That we all like to get a little freaky. That it is nothing that we should be ashamed of, can actually improve your love life, allow you to discover part of what being human is all about.

Sometimes I think that I would like to try my hand at being a sex advice columnist. At least it would never get boring. I mean, what exactly are the qualifications? I have had sex and seen porn. I also have a degree in political science, and we all know that politicians have dirty adulterous sex in public bathrooms. In fact, I think "How to give and receive a blow job through a glory hole 101" was a class I had to take to get my degree. Or at least it should be in order to prepare you for the political world. So, if any of you out there have any kinky sex questions or hot fetishes you would like for me to comment on, send them my way. I think I could at least do as well as Dan Savage. And it will give me something to talk about while I am not talking about politics before the election. Whatdaya say, let's share our dirty toothbrushes with each other.

Taking the Temp Road

Ah, Seattle in October. The city is bustling with energy and aliveness as its citizens squeeze the very most out of the last of the sunny days. Tales of the season of cold, wet grayness that will soon be upon us I try to ignore and stay present. It is nice, now.

I am at work, looking out the window onto the busy street with the space needle perched above the billboard advertising Smart Cars. Closing the downtown store can be slow, and I cannot seem to pick up a wireless network anywhere. So, here I am; with Microsoft Word as my canvass and a blank page before me.

It is kind of an odd twist of events that I am even forced to use Word as my entertainment for the afternoon. I rarely use Word because it has been almost two years since I have written a research paper. Most of my writing is done online, it various emails or blogs. It is odd because this morning I had to take one of those online assessment exams for a temp agency to reveal how computer (il)literate I am. I scored an 82% on the Microsoft Word portion. Microsoft Excel was a little scarier—73%. I am not really a spreadsheet kind of guy. I am really not sure what all this is to determine. In real life, there is a help menu that tells you exactly how to do whatever function you might be unsure of, and being able to find the information you need is a much more valuable resource than already knowing it.

So, the test—the first I have taken in while—humbly put me in my place as a mediocre computer user. So, sorry if this post is mediocre. I don’t know how to make it otherwise.

The whole purpose of this exercise in jumping through the white man’s hoops is to hopefully get my foot in the door at the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. It is a relatively new non-profit organization started by some guy who is apparently famous around here. Whatever. I am pretty sure that he invented the spreadsheet that an absolute genius can only effectively operate 73% of the time. Good one, dude.

However, his Foundation intrigues me. They are at the forefront in the battle against global malaria. They have dozens of projects, both domestic and international, that deal with poverty and sustainable futures for those at the losing end of globalization. When I moved up here, I had a desire to work for a non-profit that crusaded for a cause I could feel good about waking up in the morning to fight for. This one definitely fits the bill. However, it is hard to get a job there. If you did not graduate from an Ivy League school, or have twenty five years of experience managing a non-profit, pretty much all positions are temp to hire. Hence, my appointment with the temp agency tomorrow.

While I enjoy my job at Uptown Espresso, I have been pulling shots of espresso for yuppies for years. Granted the yuppies here are more intriguing and more generous than the people I used to serve down in Texas. But, it’s the same shit and eventually it is time to move on. I notice that my body no longer takes too kindly to waking up at 4:30 am. In my younger days I could close the bars down at midnight, catch four hours of shut eye, get to work (still drunk) and work the whole shift without batting an eye. Now, I would sleep till noon and not even hear my alarm or the phone calls trying to rouse me.

Something a bit more adult, a bit more 9 to 5 with benefits, sick days, vacations, and a 401 (k), has an alluring appeal that is hard to place, but certainly present. While I still plan on socializing into the wee hours on the weekends, a ten o’clock bed time during the week sounds pretty good. But alas, when your work schedule is all over the place, so are you. I wonder if I will miss the days of very little responsibility, late nights, early mornings, answering to no one except myself, and if I will return back to this land after a stint in the “real world;” only real because that is what our wage slave society requires its citizens to believe to continue thriving.

It is all a new adventure, and I am up for the challenge. Come what may, as they say. Ultimately I just appreciate living somewhere new, somewhere larger, gayer, more liberal, less intellectually challenged. A blue state, close to Canada for a quick getaway if the shit hits the fan, or if I need health care. Let us all tip our glasses to what the future holds and enjoy the last few weeks of autumn before everything dies and we all go into hibernation.

Craig and His List

I love Craigslist. You can buy everything on Craigslist, and you can sell the same shit back to people. Its like going to the flea market in your underwear, or completely naked if you like. Or while pooping, as Sarah Silverman does.

My dear friend Katie recently had a brilliant idea that some art student should really take up as their Master's Thesis: build an entire house and furnish the inside of it with stuff that you collect from the "free" section of the website. Just today I found bricks, cinder blocks, wood from someone's recent fence replacement, a microwave, a toilet and bathroom sink, dry wall with slight water damage (no biggie), and a cat scratching post...all for free. Come pick the shit up and it's yours. I imagine that it would not take you very long to collect all the amenities needed to build a complete house. Febreeze the rugs and the couches and you are good to go.

I could not imagine moving across the country without Craigslist. The house that I sublet in the first month I was in Seattle I found on Craigslist. It turned out to be a great little room for cheap in an area of town that I am so thankful that I now longer live it. It wasn't a bad part of town, just a little heavy on the frat parties.

I met my current roommate, Rachel, on Craigslist when I posted an ad regarding my need for housing for the three of us beginning in September. She responded to the ad and the rest is history. I now have a new friend whom I have very much enjoyed coming into my life, and I get to live in a house that is larger than my parent's house in a wonderful neighborhood. Thanks Craigslist!

However, Craigslist is also a microcosm of the universe. A mini online representation of the world around us. The best thing about Craigslist, and the place where this is most apparent, is the "relationship" section. It is the perfect example of the difference between men and women, and the difference between heteros and homos when it comes to want they want from a relationship sparked from Craigslist at 2 in the morning. If you are ever curious about how disgusting some gay men can be, go on the men seeking men section of the website. Be aware that you are about to wander into unfamiliar territory. It is absolutely astounding how many men will just post a picture of their penis, flaccid or erect, with a tag line like "need a hot bottom to suck me dry." Watch the fuck out!

Only a small minority of men have a good looking penis. And these are not the men posting pictures of their penis on Craigslist. Most do not have the type of member that would ever be molded into marble to grace the walls of a European Cathedral. They are curvy, or stumpy, or too pink, or shaped funny, or...well, you get the idea. However, the world is full of people that will take their camera phone, snap a quick shot of their cock with a circumcision job done by a drunk rabbi, and post it online for the world to see.

The men seeking women do not do this. They simply do not. Perhaps they know that a woman does not want to know what their penis looks like before they know what their face looks like. You will not find a single post in the hetero section that even closely resembles what 95% of the ads in the homo section look like. Straights use Craigslist to potentially meet a long term partner that shares similar interests. The gays on Craigslist just need you to have a mouth and painfully low standards. It's embarrassing, and I am ashamed to be lumped in with them even if the comparison is in kind and not degree.

My favorite part of Craigslist is the missed connections. "Saw you today at the Starbucks on 4th and Pine. We exchanged glances a few times and I wanted to talk to you, but you were on your phone with a family member. If you see this ad, I would like to take you out for coffee sometime. My treat. You: a beautiful dark skinned beauty wearing a muscle tee. Me: a olive skinned Mediterranean in casual business attire. Tell me the color shirt I was wearing and consider it a date." I always wonder if serendipity ever brings these two people together again.

I want a missed connection...bad. I check missed connections every couple of days just to see. I also find that I make eye contact with perfect strangers I think are hot just to see if it will lead to my first missed connection on Craigslist. When I get one, I will be sure to let everyone know about it, and part of my life will be complete. Now, I don't even need my missed connection to go anywhere. In fact, a person that would write a missed connection is probably at a level of desperation that I am not willing to let into my life, but still. I want one.

Craigslist is a wonderful thing. It's a classified for life. Anything you need can be found there. You can spend hours finding your new roommate, buying a car, getting a job, building a free house, selling your stuff, or looking at penises. What did we ever do without it?

In other news, I made the commitment after my "Conventional Sex" entry not to blog about politics again until after the election. I am going to keep my word but I want you all to know that it is fucking killing me. Sarah Palin is crazy as shit and I can't unleash. The economy is in shambles, and the McCain campaign actual said with a straight face today that Obama is in bed with terrorists. So, I am paying attention, and I have a lot of witty and informed opinions about it, but I am going to practice abstinence. It's safer. I am so ready for Nov 4th to get here.

My Guru

Very rarely do I encounter things that change the way that I view myself, my relationship with those around me, or my function as a human being in the drama of life. However, when one finds such things, I believe it is in everyone's best interest to share the wealth, as it were.

Now my love for Oprah Winfrey is no secret. I love that woman, and I want to be like her. I want sit in front of a television camera everyday for an hour and have soccer moms swoon over my every word. I want to have a Gayle to do my bidding, and a moderately less wealthy boyfriend that is comfortable living everyday in my enormous shadow.

Now, I very rarely watch the Oprah show. I have other things going on at 3 in the afternoon, like getting liquored up and riding around on the bus. However, I do have this knack for having to know exactly what is upsetting right wing Christians at any given moment. When I hear that Spongebob is gay, or that new Disney movie is destroying America with its leftist agenda, I simply must know more. I must see the movie, or read the book, or whatever it is. I get my summer reading list from whatever material Focus on the Family is boycotting that month. This is how I encountered Eckhart Tolle.

I was cruising youtube one afternoon a few months ago when I came across a video for "The Church of Oprah, EXPOSED!!" Um, hello. I simply could not resist. The video dove into a slue of righteous indignation over Oprah's new book club selection, A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle, and the imminent threat these ideas posed to the world. It was linked to other videos that went into more detail about how Oprah had left her Christian roots and been swayed by other teachings and gods, and how this was fucking everything up. Essentially, they label the book "New Age," which I am pretty sure is code for "we haven't read the book."

So, of course, I had to read the book. And it honestly changed my life. Like I said, it changed the way that I viewed myself and my relationship to those around me. The basic premise of the book is that there can be an evolution of consciousness on the planet as consciousness becomes aware of itself. As you realize that you are the conscious presence behind the thoughts and emotions that you are having rather than being completely identified with them, you can experience a freedom that is not possible otherwise. Most people live their lives completely lost in the head, completely consumed by the thoughts and emotions that are going on inside their bodies. Acting and then reacting in a vicious cycle, not realizing the absolute insanity all of it is.

It has been an interesting turn of events. It was back in May that I read the book and was introduced to the idea of "remaining present." It is the practice of bringing your attention continuously to the present moment and quieting the mind from the background static that so often clouds out the uniqueness and beauty of the present. It is a great place to be, and something that gets more and more natural over time.

It is also not a new idea. My new roommate, Rachel, runs a mediation group here in Seattle called Dharma Punx. It is not associated with any particular religion, but gets a lot of its inspiration from Buddhism. I have been to the group a couple of times since being here, and it has been astounding to me how much of what I was exposed to in Eckhart Tolle's books have been around for 2500 years. Be aware of your breath, scan your body with you attention, surrender to what is and stop resisting that which you have no power to change. Be with yourself. Be still.

Immediately I am struck with how odd it is that I had never heard any of this before now. I am 25 years old, have a college education, and I have never learned just to be. The peace that can open up in your life if you will just surrender to what is astounding. I have never realized how much of the teachings of Christ, which I literally have memorized, align with the teachings of the Buddha on how we as human beings should live. What our relationship is to each other and what our relationship is to the source of life, God...for lack of a better term. But you don't learn any of that in church.

So, I can honestly say that I am so pleased that this book and I crossed paths. Generally, when the Christians are upset about something, I look on with intrigue and usually just end up shaking my head and saying something like, "Oh, Christians." But this time it was different.

I realize that this book is threatening to them because it is something they cannot control. It challenges their monopoly on the divine, and gives power back to people that have been disillusioned by the whole concept of a personified God, with his anger, radical opinions, and preferences. It brings to life the teachings of Jesus, and I suppose this also offends most Christians. They have long determined what Jesus meant about things and nothing new can be presented without labeling it as blasphemous. And, like with most things that get religious people in a twist, I assume that most of them have not read the book. I know most of them have not read the Bible.

So I give my triple stamp of approval to Eckhart Tolle and Oprah Winfrey for bringing this teaching to the soccer moms and the religiously disenfranchised of the world. Pick yourself up a copy, it might change your life. But, in the words of Levar Burton, from the hit show Reading Rainbow, "you don't have to take my word for it."

Conventional Sex

So, as promised, I am going to sit down and write about the political conventions that occurred last week. I am a little behind schedule, but I've been busy, and I don't get paid for my opinions about things...yet.

Convention week is the huge orgasm that finally releases after more than a year of foreplay and necking. I will always think fondly upon foreplay and necking as I thumb through my high school yearbook, but as you grow it tires. First go the Democrats, then the Republicans. So, I will honor that order in the spirit of being fair and balanced.

The Democrats came out swinging this year. By all accounts it should be their year. The have a rockstar for a nominee, a wildly unpopular sitting President from the opposing party, and an energized electorate. One small problem: it was hard to tell what was more important this week, Barack Obama or how Bill Clinton is feeling about Barack Obama. There is such a thing as bowing out gracefully, and the Clinton's don't seem to be interested.

Now I suppose that I am showing my age here, but Bill Clinton means very little to me. He was president from the time I was nine until I was a senior in high school, and I was much more concerned with the zits on my face and "being cool" than his foreign policy or sexual indiscretions. However, up until he opened his mouth during his wife's primary run, he was adored by everyone in the Democratic Party. Like Ronald Reagan for the Republicans, only with more game. I do know this: Barack is cooler than Bill and Bill hates this. During the primary, his political genius of the 90s was overshadowed by his small child assuring you that his dad could beat up your dad. I don't know, Bill, my dad wrestled in high school.

It is also apparent that the Democrats have suddenly discovered the Lord, or rather the votes that the Lord can swing their way. To my shock, Barack Obama and Joe Biden are actually Christians and not Muslims, and to prove it they are going to talk about God and feature speakers that talk about God in every speech. I know that God is big business, and that the American electorate is horny for religiously sounding rhetoric, but if I was advising the party I would say to let the Republicans keep all the Jesus shit. Whatever. Pro choice, pro gay rights, pro humble foreign policy Democrats are never going to be able to compete with the Republicans in the crazy Christian department. Can't we just take solace in fact that we are smarter than them, more elite, better read, more educated, and less dependent on fairy tales? No? Ok, fine. Who's in the house? The big JC is the house! I am falling out already.

But the highlight of the convention belonged to Barack Obama and his final speech at Invesco Field before 75,000 adoring fans. Even Christ did not have to feed crowds this large. He could not have delivered a better performance. Anyone who does not want this person to be our president, to represent us to the world, to heal the wounds that have slowly bled for the last eight years, and bring fresh life into the White House, clearly has not been paying attention.

On to the Republicans. I was much more interested in, and watched much more of, the Republican National Convention this year because free tickets to the freak show are always better than learning something new and being challenged to make your country a better place. Now, really I do have to hand it to the Republicans this time around. They got lemons, and made some pretty good lemonade.

Change. I give you a quarter, you give me two dimes and a nickle. This is what this election is all about. Both sides agree and are chanting the mantra. It is because George W. Bush is the most inept president of all time and there is very little that does not need to be changed. But, this is really not quite fair. By definition the Democrats offer change (can't wait for the Libertarian comments), but the Republicans are just so damn good at convincing their enthusiasts (as well as those just watching the freak show) that they actually offer change. Now, this does not make any sense unless you are at the 2008 Republican National Convention. Theme: the last eight years are all in your head. Clearly.

The first night of the convention was overshadowed by Hurricane Gustav slamming into the Gulf Coast. I would mention the foreshadowing this natural disaster would indicate if you were writing fiction, but I think the relationship is obvious and trustworthy. Cindy McCain and Laura Bush reminded the crowd to "take off their Republican hats and put on their American hats." Not two hours later, the camera panned the crowd and a man was wearing a construction hard hat that said, "DRILL HERE!!" with a Houston Oilers logo above it. I can only hope he was referring to his skull to relieve the pressure of his swollen brain. Apparently the ladies had forgotten to mention the third type of hat that appears so commonly and the Republican Conventions. Clearly they make hats in 'redneck.'

Larry, Moe, and Curly opened the second evening that I watched. Huckabee, with his wit and charm told the adoring crowd that he supported John McCain for President. For our future, for our children. I like Mike, and I think that we would get along quite well for the most part.

Fred Thompson, who has been off the radar since his dismal performance in the primaries gave a surprisingly energetic oration and looked well rested and bronzed. John McCain is not only a troublemaker, but he is the leader of the troublemakers. Clever. The crowd, that hated Bill Clinton's troublemaking, went wild.

Rudy Guliani got stuck on track 3 and 9/11 was heard over and over until someone hit the machine and it skipped to track 4, Mitt Romney. Now, I love Mitt Romney for the Republicans, because all the Christians seem to forget that he is Mormon. He wipes his ass with hundred dollar bills, as to not stain his special underpants.

I would not even mention it, expect that I was raised Christian and I know that Christians hate Mormons. Apparently not as much as they hate liberals. Yet, no one at the convention seemed to think that it was weird when Mitt talked about the threat rich elitists from Massachusetts present for the country.

John McCain had his acceptance speech, and I was shocked to learn that he had been a POW in Vietnam. Wow. If the qualifications for president require you to endure the same treatment that the previous American President implemented for prisoners of war, then John McCain is our man. This man is at least as prepared to be president as Al-Akmed Tulanbar. I'm down.

The lack of self awareness is precious, almost cute. It makes the whole convention so much better viewing than the Democratic Convention. I just wish it was complete with a huge mud pit, girls in bikinis, and large assault rifles. Enter Sarah Palin. Priceless.

This is why the Republican Convention is so fun. The delegates. The loyal followers. The true believers. They know the routine and they are so hot for it. The event is interchangeable and largely irrelevant. You could be at a Jeff Foxworthy concert, a monster truck rally, a Billy Graham revival meeting, or the Republican National Convention. They can even wear the same outfit to each event and no one notices.

They just stand there and jerk off all over the flag. The last one to come has to eat it, and they will do so gladly. Live on national television. Who doesn't want to watch?

I am not much for cuddling after I've climaxed. So, you are not going to get anymore political rants out of me until after the election. I hope it was as good for you as it was for me. Don't mind me if I just roll over and go to sleep. If you have to leave before I get up, I threw your underwear between the bed and the wall in the heat of passion. Call me.

I live in Seattle, and I'm better than you.

Since moving to Seattle five weeks ago, I have very much enjoyed my time here. I am learning my way around the city and meeting new friends. I have a job, go to a gym, know my bus schedule, have made out with a hot guy, know which Northwestern microbrew I like the most, and have a permanent residence...finally.

But, there are still many things that have to happen before I truely settle in and become one of the crew that calls Seattle home. I am not sure if all of them will happen.

Seattle is an incredibly green city. I spend a lot of time trying to determine if the box my mac and cheese came in goes into the trash, recycling, or yard waste bin. It takes less time to eat mac and cheese. Each household is given a color coded chart that conquers images of the Bush Administration's color coded terror level scale to determine which items go in which of the three trash containers each household must maintain. Just how dangerous is the mac and cheese box for the environment?

When you come onto the bus with a take out box from a restaurant that is Styrofoam, people want to know where you got such a horrid container so they can write a letter to the editor or something. I just tell them not to worry, that I have a whole bunch saved up at home and we'll be having a bon fire with them later tonight.

So while there is not a lot of smog, there is a whole lot of smug. I am not even sure that people intend to come across this way, but it is hard to get around when you are from Texas and know how the rest of the country thinks. Getting rid of my car WAS my good deed for the environment. Stick a fork in me, I'm done.

You will also find a blossoming community of compassionate vegans here in the Northwest. I would like to take this time to extend a huge middle finger to all of them. I am so goddamn sick of you. I hope that when you die, Satan forces you to drink a big, huge glass of skim milk. I cannot tell you how many times a day people will ask me at my low responsibility job at the coffee shop if any of the pastries are vegan. I do not even know what this means or how a person would determine this fact about a pastry. They don't seem impressed with you when you tell them that there is no meat in the blueberry muffin. I really should look up the word 'vegan.' I do know that there are plenty of vegan restaurants around, that I will never set foot in one of them, and that these people should go there.

Rice and soy do not have nipples. Therefore, rice and soy milk is a misnomer. I am pretty sure that rice milk is the water that turns a milky color when you are making rice that is not quite ready yet. At least that it what is tastes like. People drink lattes made with this stuff, when they could save two dollars by drinking an Americano instead. I am pretty sure that espresso and water is as yummy as espresso and grain water. Maybe they have a rice fetish, but it is an expensive, unnecessary habit.

While I was living in my August house, I had the joy of shopping at the most elite grocery store in the city. The PCC. It was the only grocery store within walking distance of where I was living, and so it was my grocery store. Apparently people in Seattle have orgasms about these chain of stores, but I was a little less thrilled. It has a small town feel and the only products that they offer are all natural, organic, local, and expensive. A batch of groceries that should have cost fifty bucks cost twice that much. I had to reach inside my g-string to make up the difference.

One night, as is the case with all people that think too much about things, I had heartburn. Shit, I need some Tums, I thought. So, I walked two blocks at 10:30 pm in order to get some relief. The clerk had never heard of Tums. I am not kidding. I explained my dilemma to her, and she directed me to their all natural pharmacy section in order to get the kind of relief that you could only find in Amish country.

I finally explained that what I really needed was some calcium. Tablets, if they could find some, or liquid if they couldn't. I walked out with half a gallon of milk and some Parmesan cheese. Tums have a lot less fat.

One more funny thing about Seattlites before I close. Last month, while I was still living with the guys in the sublet house, one of the roommates said to me that he simply could not believe that George W. Bush had been reelected in 2004, or that John McCain even had a chance at the White House. I said to him, "Have you ever been to Texas?" Because it is not a mystery to me. In fact, I know enough about the middle of the country to know that anything is possible, and that smart people will have to live with their decision if enough of them get out there to vote.

This past week, during the Republican National Convention (which will get its own entry, by the way), I went into a bar just as Sarah Palin was giving her acceptance speech. I watched the whole thing later online, but it was fun just to sit back and watch the reaction from Joe Schmoe in the bar up here. They simply could not believe that mystery woman behind door number two was going to be the Republican VP candidate. They were not impressed. In fact, the whole convention was a mystery to them. Who ARE these people? What is wrong with them? Were they raised in a barn? All I could say was that some of them probably owned a barn, and many people up here have only seen pictures of barns. Heard about barns. Where farm animals live.

I love Seattle and I certainly belong here, like I am home. I may live here for the next twenty years. But, I am from the South. There is no denying it. Regardless of where a person relocates later in life, you cannot forsake your roots. I despise the Republican Party, but I understand them. I no longer set time out of my day to watch the NFL, but I have spent more time in my life watching football than peeing. I have fired multiple guns, ridden a horse, helped to raise a barn, been blinded by a dust storm, attended Jesus camp, and harvested cotton. Yee haw.

I look forward to the next twenty years. May they be even more full of blessing then the last twenty. But, regardless of how long I live here, I will not forget where I am from. I might learn how to recycle. I might learn to have the same righteous indignation for Styrofoam as the rest of King County. I might get a cool haircut and sit around talking about the latest electric car. But I will always chuckle at tree huggers, self righteous vegans, people that have never heard of Tums, and the politically undiversified. It's funny, and I'm just along for the ride.

In Response

I recently received a comment on a blog entry that I had written back in January about the Bible being revised and expanded for today's society. I must say it is one of the wittier things that I have written about on this thing, and am quite proud of it. The commenter, who I do not know, did not seem to share my same enthusiasm for blasphemy and tactlessness.

Now I will not repost the comment here, because it is quite long and goes on and on about a variety of side issues. Feel free to read the comment yourself to get the full effect. The gist of the message is this: I make a mockery of the Lord Jesus Christ because I have chosen to finally accept myself as a gay person. My liberal views about the Bible make absolutely no sense, and are simply my way of covering up the deep insecurity I feel. Having sex with other men will not fill the deep hole that is in my heart. (Insert whatever joke comes directly after a sentence with "sex with men" and "deep hole.") In order to please God I should pick up my cross, which Lord knows had been weighing me down for years, and follow him. The commenter then goes on to admit to me that he is also gay, or was gay, or something. I think he said "enslaved to gay porn," which sounds like a bondage film.

It should be noted that this person knows absolutely nothing about me, which becomes clear when he talks about "my raging teenage hormones." I only wish, now that I am at peace with my sexuality, I could have those raging hormones back. I would put them to good use. But I am a 25 year old man, and while certainly not past my prime, I simply will never again be as horny, as often, as I was when I was 15. It also should be made clear that while many in the evangelical closeted community think that openly gay men go around fucking every guy they can get there hands on, this has not been my experience thus far. Gay people are people, and people, particularly as they get older enjoy a little intimacy. Monogamy. Stability. Need I continue?

Initially my reaction to this bloggers comment did not include any of the fruits of the Spirit. What a douchebag, I thought. But then I decided to read his blog and go all the way to the beginning. May 2007, one gay man's journey to find peace between his sexuality and his faith in Christianity. I read the first three entries, which was really all I needed and all that I could stand. He described in beautiful prose the struggle that gay people raised in strict religious environments deal with on a daily basis. He laid out the fear, the shame, the anguish, the recurring thoughts of suicide, the confusion, the sense of eternal abandonment. He has many loyal readers who also struggle with "same sex attraction," as its called, to make it sound more medical, more like a disease. They have found a place on the Internet to meet together and share each others stories and offer support in the cold, harsh world that the Church of Jesus offers these people.

After years of genuinely informed inquiry, many aspects of Christianity simply seem improbable to me. I do not believe in the Jesus of the Bible for the same reason I do not believe in Zeus. I do believe, however, that Jesus of Nazareth was a real person. People had a God experience with Jesus when they met him. He had a depth of understanding about the world and the way human beings are to be that caused people's lives to be transformed in a very real way. And he never mentioned a single word about homosexuals. If you are a Christian that has ever spoken ill of gay people, referred to their sex as vile and unloving, their existence as unnatural and an abomination, you should feel deep shame. Jesus would overturn your offering plates and declare that you have made a mockery of his Father's house. Others in your congregation, who hear you say these things, are gay people. You just don't know it. It will depend on their individual journey through the hell you have helped to create for them as to if you ever will.

The man who made that comment to me, a fellow homosexual, is a tragic figure. He is not a douchebag. He is lonely, tired of waking up cold and horny. He has been put through the ringer his whole life and clings to the only things that makes him feel safe. I have more in common with him than I do with many of my closest friends. We have walked down the same road, and somehow arrived at two very different places. He would say that I got lost along the way, and I would gently remind him that he simply has not arrived yet. Every person deserves to be whole. And that includes falling in love, and yes, having sex, with someone wonderful. Even if both of those people have a penis. Those that would deny a person this basic human need, this joy they so often flippantly take for granted, deserve to be exposed for the spineless pharisees that they are.

One of the tenants of Christianity is to be an example to others. "Follow me, as I follow the example of Christ," Saint Paul declares. I feel that same sense of responsibility in my own life. I know that I will live to see the day when homosexuality is no longer an issue for the church. Homophobia will take its rightful place in the grave next to slavery and the combustible engine. All I can do is to do my part. Speak out when I feel it is right, and offer a helping hand to those that are hurting. We all have a role to play in this human problem. Knowing that I will help to leave the world a better place than I found it is the greatest gift I can receive. And I am grateful.

Man, I Feel Like a Woman

When I was in high school, dick tricks were hilarious. One of the funniest things you could do with your penis was to stick it between your legs and walk around like you had a vagina. My friends and I called it “vagina man,” but I am sure that there are multiple names for this phenomenon. I would imagine that cavemen, once they had finished hunting mammoths and warring with neighboring tribes, also did this. I bet Og and Thor would wait until all the cavewomen were out for girls night and the thought just came to them. It is just funny and immature. Men will continue to do this until long after my time on Earth is through.

Now, actually having a vagina is not something that I envy. I can only imagine the kind of maintenance those things require: the annual checkups, the periods, the babies that come out of them. Yikes. However, there is a new perk that comes with having a vagina. You can be John McCain’s running mate. It is apparently the only requirement for the job.

I imagine the letter that was sent out to potential candidates from his vice presidential committee:

Dear Madam,

This is John McCain. Do you have a vagina? Then I want you. Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton have made history with their respective candidacies for president, and I am feeling a little left out. I figure that I can make up for my whopping failures in the coolness department by nominating the first woman to be on a Republican Presidential ticket.

Now I have a slight problem. The Republican Party does not respect women and as a result there are slim pickens in the female department. So, who will answer my call? It’s three a.m. and I’m waiting.

Love, John

Well we are in luck, because Sarah Palin, the first term governor of Alaska and NASCAR enthusiast, has answered the call. Jon Stewart put it brilliantly when he compared her to a cross between Tina Fey and every naughty librarian you see in 80s porn. Beautiful woman, really, but also a little bit crazy.

Now the Republican establishment has lined up like good little soldiers to support this new superstar of Republican stardom. Kay Bailey Hutchison, senior Senator from Texas and most qualified Republican with vagina, was very sweet on Fox News when she said, through gritted teeth, that she knew absolutely nothing about Palin but was excited to see the historic nomination. Pro-lifers have gone into a fetal rights frenzy over her Down’s syndrome child and her pregnant teenage daughter. Look at how she walks the walk while she talks the talk, they say. It’s enough to make you want to get pregnant just so you can have an abortion.

Hillary Clinton was even forced to make a comment that equated to “that’s nice John.” I would have loved to be a fly on the wall when Hill-dog found out about the nomination. I am sure that after the Clinton black rage, hate filled musk had settled she said something along the lines of “I didn’t make 18 million cracks in that glass ceiling for this tramp to come in a steal my thunder.” Or at least that's what she should have said.

Can someone say cat fight? Meow. Oh, it’s so on. Let’s see if Palin is lacking in self awareness enough to mention Hillary’s name in her speech at the Republican Convention next week like she did this week when she made her acceptance speech. Sarah, that bitch will kill you. She’s done a lot more for a lot less.

But Senator Lindsey Graham takes the cake. He said on one of those fair and balanced news shows that “any woman that gets up at three in the morning to hunt moose is OK by me.” Quit hitting the sauce, Lindsey. What a stupid thing to say. I am only impressed if after she’s brought down said moose she guts it with her rock hard nipples from braving the arctic tundra.

Gun rights advocates, who have never been to the Southside of Philly, can’t wait to have her appear on next month’s cover of Guns and Ammo. Republicans, however, should be careful about vice presidents who like to hunt. Dick Cheney, anyone? Although, receiving buckshot in the face from a beautiful woman is a bit more tantalizing than from a dried up, two faced, lying windbag.

All in all, I am thrilled that Sarah Palin is running with John McCain. He could not have picked someone less qualified, more anti-woman, more inexperienced, from a more obscure state, or with a hotter bod. Move over Cindy McCain, there’s a new bimbo in town and she doesn’t get her hair color from a bottle. I cannot wait to see Palin and Biden go at it in the debates. She is probably all the wiser to just stick to the naughty librarian routine and at least make it interesting.

So, fellas, the game has changed. What used to be a white man’s sport is now being played by women and black men. Next time you and your friends are bonding with dick tricks, tuck it in nice and tight. While dick tricks will be around forever, having a vagina now has some new perks!

Another One Rides the Bus

In 1979, my parents had just married. The Soviet Union had just invaded Afghanistan. Jimmy Carter was president. Margaret Thatcher had just become the first female Prime Minister of Great Britain. And the rock band Queen had just recorded their hit single "Another One Bites the Dust."

At the time my mother's former college roommate, who I grew up knowing as a friend of the family, was convinced that the lyrics were "Another One Rides the Bus." This fact I do not believe she has ever fully been able to live down. However, if it had been the name of the song, I would have been the inspiration.

Since moving to Seattle I no longer own a vehicle and I ride the bus on a daily basis. I have been all over the city on various buses at all hours of the day and night. Public transportation sounds very hip and environmental conscious. People who drive cars always talk about how they should take the bus to work, if only the public transit systems were better. Well, in Seattle it is pretty damn good. It does not run on time, but it runs frequently and all over town. Regardless of how efficient a public transit system is however, there are some things that just come with the territory when it comes to riding the bus.

There are three main things that can make or break your bus experience on any given day.

1) The individual riders that are sharing the bus with you.
2) The time of day.
3) The neighborhood you happen to be in or going to.

Let's go through each one, shall we.

First, the people that are on the bus with you can make all the difference as to what the next thirty minutes of your life are going to be like while you get your ass downtown.

I am absolutely floored by the number of people that do not wear deodorant and seem to be completely unaware of the fact that they should. In fact, that it was invented for people just like them. I have been guilty of leaving the house in the morning without slapping it on, but this happens very rarely and is always an oversight. I am very self aware when it come to the fragrance that I am exuding out into the world, but I believe this to be a quality that is not shared equally amongst my fellow human beings.

A crowded bus just has that smell. It is hard to pinpoint exactly, but every one's body odor is a little different. When it mixes all together it creates a smorgasbord of musk that hits you like a ton of bricks. This generally only happens when it is raining and every window in the bus is closed. The very best way of dealing with this is to commence mouth breathing. In and out, in and out.

Also, almost without fail an inebriated person will get on the bus. It's two in afternoon. You can only pray that the only empty seat is not next to yours. This person will talk to you. Or slur to you, rather. At two in the afternoon I am not in the mood to put up with this shit, but you just have to turn your ipod up and bury your head a little deeper in your book. That is what you see a lot on the bus: people making a very concerted effort to make it very clear that they are not open to conversation. The first few days I took the bus I thought this was a bit closed off, even rude. After a month, you understand. Because it is never the pleasant people that will try to strike up a conversation. It's the pre-happy hour drunks.

Which brings me to point number two. It's all in the time of day. I do not mind talking to drunks when I am also drunk, coming home from the bar at one in the morning. They're your peeps, your homeys, and it is an appropriate time to be drunk. Context. Its all about context. The bus drivers are also a bit more inclined to help their passengers during the wee hours of the morning by making the regularly scheduled announcements telling you which stop you are at and which connecting buses come to the same location. There is a real camaraderie on the bus at one in the morning. It's beautiful and it makes you believe that there is hope for humanity. That someday we really will all live in harmony, if only we could all be simultaneously shitfaced on Northwestern microbrew.

Point number three in predicting the quality of bus riding experience you will have has to do with the neighborhoods you will be traveling through. Capitol Hill at 9pm on a weekend is thus far my personal favorite. Capitol Hill is the gayborhood of Seattle, and is much larger and much more diverse than any gayborhood in any other major city I have been to, save San Fran. Around 9pm on the weekend the drag queens, on the way to their shows or just to support the team, begin getting on the 49 bus down Broadway Ave. Some have their face painted up in an extravagant display. Some have their scarfs just so place to hide their protruding Adam's apple. On comes a bear, off comes a twink. The picture is not strange to anyone else except the white boy from Texas.

Downtown, for about 20 square blocks, there is a "free ride area." Now the bus only costs $1.50 round trip, and even less if you have a prepaid card, so I would say that a free ride area is largely unnecessary. But it is there, just in case. The City of Seattle most likely intended it for tourists, and as long as you stay close to the water that is generally what you will find. Husbands and wives arguing about which stop will get them closer to the Space Needle. Knowing the wife has it right, but also knowing better than to get involved.

I think that they should rename this area the "homeless ride area." The panhandlers go from one end of the free ride area, work their way to the other end, and then catch the free bus. It really is the perfect gig. Unlike in other cities that I have been to, the homeless here are really very sweet, well meaning people. They will ask you for money, you will tell them no, and then you can have a fairly descent conversation with them. Very meek, very humble. The State of Washington within the last 10 years cut many public mental health benefits, and as a result there was an immediate increase in the homeless population in Seattle. This is what happens when Republicans are in power. It comes with the territory.

Riding the bus is an exhilarating experience. I wake up every day and think, "I wonder what crazy characters I am going to come into contact with today." Because you will, and I do. Everyone here, at some time or another and with varying degrees of pleasure, rides the bus. It is part of the culture, but that means it involves EVERYONE. And, as we know, not all people get along, or want to be in a closely confined vehicle with Jim Beam at two in the afternoon. Perhaps Freddie Mercury was a musical genius of our time, but he could have had one more hit had he only written a song about all the people on the bus.

It's all about me.

It has been many months since my last blog, and many things have changed in my life since that time. Now, traditionally I do not blog about myself. I find it boring to write and probably equally boring to read, but I do feel as though a blog about myself and what I am up to these days is called for.

On July 30th I left Nacogdoches, Texas for the last time and drove across the state to Lubbock to spend five days with my family there. I must say that I never realized Keaton, my cat, was such hooligan in the car. What should have taken me all of 9 hours took me 12. Thank you dear Keaton, and I promise to never take you on a long journey in the car again.

I had moved to Nacogdoches in the summer of 2004 to go to Stephen F. Austin State University, and stayed there 18 months after graduation to work on Business Development for the coffee company I worked for as an undergrad. I was musing recently about the personal growth that happened to me while I lived there.

When I arrived, I had just finished a stint with Youth With a Mission (YWAM) in Tijuana, Mexico building houses. I can build a wicked four wall house with a roof and an outhouse. A good skill to have, I suppose, if you are ever caught in say...Tijuana, Mexico. I was, to say the least, completely entrenched in Evangelical Christianity. I had spent the previous year in New Zealand and India converting Hindus to Jesus, which surprisingly is not hard. They already believe in 300 million gods, what's the harm in 300 million and 1?

Evangelical Christianity has its moments. I mean, you get to go to heaven and hang out with the big JC for all eternity. Also, the music within the last five years or so has become incredibly cutting edge. When I was growing up, Christian music was simply not as cool as secular music. No longer the case; quite an improvement to say the least. However, it has its downsides as well. Unfortunately for me, Evangelicals do not believe in homosexuals. They believe in a personification of evil that rules the underworld, but gays are like unicorns.

Now, I should explain a bit further. According to the handbook, gay people are not real. There is such a thing, however, as "struggling with homosexuality." If you happen to be one of the unlucky people that suffer from said affliction you do have some options. First, you can pledge yourself celibate and marry Jesus, retreating further back into the closet until you find Narnia. Many people do this. Or, you can subject yourself to demonic exorcism. I chose the latter.

I realize that for many people this sounds totally insane, and it is. However, in my defense I lived in a world where this seemed like my only option. This process is very similar to the popular "reparitive therapy" that is practiced by fundamentalist Christian organizations like Exodus Ministries in the United States. To put it in layman's terms they claim that they can change your sexual orientation through a series of sessions where you do plenty of bizarre role playing. If you are really that interested you can youtube it.

So, when I arrived in Nacogdoches this had been my existence for the previous two years. It's a hellish place to be, but as I have learned suffering produces beautiful things in people who make their way through it. Nacogdoches was my cocoon. I arrived there a deeply closeted, self loathing, very confused young adult and emerged quite differently. I suppose a butterfly would be an appropriate analogy, but that's kind of gay.

That's where I've been. Here is where I am. On August 4th I moved to Seattle, Washington. Holy shit. This city is absolutely amazing and full of people that are just like me. Seattle is known for some of the best weather during the summer of any place in the country. Today it was 72 degrees, 5 mph breeze, not a cloud in the sky, and snow capped peaks on all sides. A nice change from East Texas in August. We'll see how I feel in January when I have not seen the sun for two months.

Seattle is also the most intelligent city in the country. I suppose this is determined by the percentage of the population that is college educated. Art, literature, poetry readings, tasty food, Buddhist meditation centers, and beautiful gay men abound in this place. What's not to love? I feel so...blessed.

I cannot wait to see what turns my life is going to take while being up here. In retrospect, everything that has happened to me in my life is an accumulation leading me to this moment. And truthfully, that is all we ever have. This moment, right now.

Alright, that wasn't so bad, but don't expect any more blogs about me. I am going to pick this whole blogging thing back up. I encounter crazy and funny shit everyday in this place and I think, "that would make the perfect blog entry." So, be ready. It's about to get really fun!

The Sky Is Falling!

I encountered two seemingly different points of view today on the subject of the end of the world. It is of interest to those of us who used to believe a certain way about things, and have since entered a Renaissance.

The first subject is that of Pastor John Hagee, and what he is spouting about the End Times. Hagee is a mega-church evangelical pastor in San Antonio that has in large part taken over the terrible void that was left in the evangelical community when Jerry Falwell died, may he rest in relative discomfort. Hagee is seen by tens of thousands of rapture enthusiasts each week, on top of his 19,000 member church congregation. Now, his public statements have come under some scrutiny since he has publicly endorsed John McCain for President. Here are some of my all time favorites:

"Most readers will be shocked by the clear record of history linking Adolf Hitler and the Roman Catholic Church in a conspiracy to exterminate the Jews." - from his book, Jerusalem Countdown.

"All hurricanes are acts of God because God controls the heavens. I believe that New Orleans had a level of sin that was offensive to God and they were recipients of the judgment of God for that." -Interview with NPR

"I don't believe in global warming. " -Interview with CNN, October 12, 2007

So, this guy is clearly a great resource to get all your up to date End Times news, right? While I have not actually read one of his books, I pretty sure I catch his drift. I am sitting there listening to him talk about the End Times. The basic drift of his message is this: There is going to be an earthquake of all earthquakes and a great nuclear holocaust in Israel. Then the Antichrist is going to come into the world, get shot in the head and come back to life, implant us all with microchips, and create a one world government and religion that is going to somehow be antithetical to whatever Jesus wants. And, if you don't believe him, he will ensure you that is all in the Bible. I can't remember whether or not the Christians are getting raptured before or after this happens. I am amazed that there are enough people that are into this shit that there is a thriving End Times industry out there that gives this nut the time of day, but I guess it takes all kinds.

Hagee has all sorts of clever ways of taking obscure passages of the Bible out of context and then twisting them to support his fairy tale. He was able, by the end of the interview, to support his view that the Bible says Russia will enter into another Cold War with the United States for control of the oil reserves in the Middle East. Excuse me, what? I would love to play this guy in a game of RISK. I would kick his Bible thumpin' ass.

The idea of oil brings us to the second subject I was confronted with today. There are a growing number of voices in the scientific community that are warning the general public about the reality of what is called "peak oil." Basically "peak oil" refers to the time in the relatively near future when global oil production will peak, and everyday after that humans will pull less and less oil out of the ground. There does not seem to be a good consensus about when this will happen, but almost certainly in my lifetime.

Now, it is important to remember that "peak oil" is not the same as being out of oil. But as demand will only increase due to population and development, particularly in young global economies like India, when oil production peaks supply will decrease every single day after that. So, when demand overtakes supply and the gap keeps getting wider and wider by the day...well, I won't get into the specifics. If you don't understand the problem that this causes, go ask John Hagee.

Everything in our life has been built around the idea that we have an endless supply of cheap energy. It keeps our food supply fully stocked and cheap, makes international trade and travel possible, allows us to heat and cool our homes, and is literally the driving force of the economy. So, as I am watching this program I realize that this scientist on the television is talking about the exact same thing as Homo-hater Hagee: The end of civilization as we know it.

Now, if I was a betting man, I would say that the peak oil people are probably a little closer to reality. I mean everyone can admit that fossil fuels, which come from millions of years of biological decomposition, are a non-renewable resource. So, there is a finite amount of oil on the planet, and we are getting much closer to when our production will peak. And, we have not done our homework in advance to switch seamlessly into a form of renewable energy to keep up with our present usage or future demand. Shit.

So, when we can no longer get into our cars to travel to work, and the food can no longer get from place to place to fill the grocery store, and people can no longer use the same amount of electricity, and when there is a drought you will die of thirst, it will certainly be a different time. But, will this be the tribulation Pastor Hagee speaks about? Not unless the first 15,000 years of human history without oil were just one long, clusterfuck of tribulation. But, you can rest assured that is precisely what people like John Hagee will be telling their loyal followers.

Does it still count as the End Times if you can see the potential disaster coming and choose to continuing living in such a way that is causing it to come faster? What if the problem is not God's wrath on all the feminists and Palestinians, but rather on society's addiction to dirty, non-renewable energy?

A few possible solutions have been suggested to deal with the peak oil crisis. One is to begin to restructure cities and small towns to operate in smaller units. Have every neighborhood provide an economy unto itself in order to provide society with all the essentials of food, water, shelter, and employment all within walking distance of the neighborhood. No car, very limited trade. Any way you cut it, all the solutions deal with cutting back on economic growth while humans perfect the technology of renewable energy to be able to cope with the global future demand.

However, End Timers like John Hagee, consistently point to the certain "signs" of the End Times. Here are a short list of those signs:

1)The rebirth of Israel
2)The invention of the nuclear weapon
3)The invention of international television
4)The Ease of international travel
5)The rise of a global economy
6) The Marvelous Inter-web.

All these things in combination are going to work together to bring about the type of environment where the Antichrist can take control of every single person on the planet, Hagee argues. The Perfect Storm, as it were.

One small problem. If the "peak oil" people are right about this peak oil stuff, then humans are going to experience a problem in being able to keep all these lovely modern advances running cheaply enough to provide them to everybody. The Perfect Storm has just turned South, missing the point completely! Suddenly a large portion of the world's population stops receiving a television signal, and only the very wealthy will be able to afford a plane ticket to another country. Some are even predicting it will be worse.

So, it looks like Hagee might be jumping the gun with the whole Antichrist thing. But shit, he's got to say something or his sheep will stop listening. End Times doom and gloom is big business. And the best part of it is that it's all emotional based sensationalism, so it stands up very well against, say, scientific evaluation. So, when the problems start with the worldwide shortage of energy and all the additional side effects, you will hear people like Hagee saying things like "see, I told you so."

When that time comes, I will pull out this blog, written in 2008, and recall my own version of prophecy. Then, I will turn off the television, which isn't getting a signal anyway, put on my walking shoes, and go out there to campaign for the highest position in the land: President of my local township!

Warning: Reading this may cause cancer.

Every time you crack open an ice cold beer or reach for that pack of smokes, you are reminded by the authority of the Surgeon General of the United States, that your activities could have hazardous effects on your health. A variety of pleasurable activities are consistently deemed "risky" or "dangerous" by the government. And the purpose of all of this is so that you, as an adult, can make an informed decision about what you are getting yourself into. However, there is a governmental warning missing off of a very important activity that millions of Americans perform each week: fundamentalist religion.

If the government called me up and asked me to formulate a warning label which was to be stuck into the preface of all religious texts (including, but not limited to the Bible, the Koran, the Torah, the Joel Osteen books, Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Papal Decrees, Mel Gibson movies, and O Magazine) it would read something like this: The Surgeon General has concluded that believing every word in this book came directly from God can cause difficulty functioning in the real world. Risks include, but are not limited to, delusions of grandeur, actively preparing yourself to be raptured, inability to reconcile reality with your world view, the acquisition of an imaginary friend, and your inability to understand those that you love most.

I think that would adequately describe the symptoms of someone who thinks that their way is the only way to understand God, or the world, or love, or war, or peace, or the afterlife. However, the illness lays dormant for some time before the symptoms appear. The symptoms are generally brought up upon some sort of world view conflict where the stakes are too high to keep ignoring the inconsistencies. Unfortunately, the longer you have held these beliefs and the more time, money, and effort you have invested into your way being the "divine truth," the harder the fall.

Every fundamentalist at some point is going to have to come to terms with the fact that they have been lied to. Lied to by their spiritual leader, the manipulation of their holy book, and their community of friends that constantly reinforced their belief system. Religion takes perfectly kindhearted, well meaning individuals, and turns them into propaganda and recruitment soldiers for the cause. And, just like terrorists, religious leaders use extreme fear to influence the behavior of the general population. Although, the threat of burning in hell for all eternity is a bit more extreme and painful than any terrorist attack the world has yet seen.

Perhaps the worst part of all of this, is that it is done under the guise that somehow they are speaking for God. Fuck you guys! I am pretty sure that if God was to talk to people, it would not be these people. And to top it all off, spiritual leaders are self appointed ideologues that claim to be sent by God. That has got to piss Him off! However, he truly must be patient and loving, because for more than 4000 years he has allowed these psychopaths to mistake their personal reservations about human behavior and quest for political power as His words. When you're convinced that God conveniently hates all the same things that you hate, rest assured that you're an asshole.

Having a strong sense of spirituality is to be praised. Feeling a connection to the source of all life is a divine thing. Religion, however, is toxic. And it will eventually catch up to you. So, next time you see a "God Hates Fags" sign, or hear some right wing nut going on about how God is crying about all the aborted babies, or that catastrophic disasters are God's judgment on those who do not believe the same way that they do, feel free to extend your middle finger. I mean, it is your God given right.

And remember, next time you pick up that bible, or step into that church or mosque: fundamentalist religion may be hazardous to your health.