RevSpork

Xmas wasn't so bad

Good friends, good homemade lasagna, good dessert, hot wife, clean apartment. 

Maybe escaping retail this year turned out to be a good idea after all. 

Happiness is... (for Xmas Eve)

...your cranky calico purring on top of your monitor.
...singing and dancing half-naked to old Prince songs.
...good news on the "Democracy Now" podcast.
...being licked on the nose by your cat.
...a post-coital cuddle.
...making snow angels. You're never too old to make snow angels.
...sleeping cats.
...lying under three blankets in bed on a cold day.
...a thank-you postcard from one of your customers.
...the look on your partner's face when she opens up a gift she wasn't expecting.

...realizing that everything in our house has a smudge of flour, sugar or glitter on it, making a very tangible sign that Christmas is here. (from Tori)
...people who get your jokes. (from Liz)
...the extra dish of fudge that Margies Candies gives you with your giant clamshell of ice cream, whipped cream, caramel, bananas, pecans and whatever else. (from eighmie)
...restaurants that give you a whole pot of tea instead of just a cup (from Amy C)
...Warm blankets and snuggly kitties. (from dayo)
...hugs. (from klrmn)

Merry war on Christmas, everyone!

The plight of gays in Iraq

"They always shoot their gay victims in the rear end, then in the head, because they believe that all gay males actively practice sexual intercourse." - Ali Hili, co-founder of Iraqi LGBT, discussing a common method of how homosexual Iraqis are murdered.

Those of us who opposed Prop 8 in California and who protested its passage are, for the most part, fully aware of the state of gay rights in this nation. Despite our defeat in California and in other states, we are confident that we will ultimately prevail: gays and lesbians will have the right to marry in all fifty states, they will have the right to adopt children, and they will share equal status in all things under the law. However, as we march forward, we should be careful to turn our heads. In other nations, including those where Americans have troops, homosexuals are denied the most basic of rights - including the right to exist. In Iraq, merely the rumor that one is gay can be a death sentence.

It illustrates something about Iraqi attitudes about homosexuality that Ali Hili, a co-founder of Iraqi LGBT, lives in self-imposed exile in Great Britain and uses a pseudonym to protect family members who still live in Iraq. He was granted asylum in Britain eight years ago and hasn't returned to Iraq since, although he visits Syria and Jordan to help spirit other gay Iraqis out of the country. Since 2003, Hili reports, over 450 GLBT Iraqis have been murdered, many in brutal, horrific ways. (The number is no doubt much higher, since families of victims refuse to admit to the motives of the assassins for fear of further retribution.) A mere three months ago, the coordinator for Iraqi LGBT was gunned down in a barbershop by militia members. In a way, he was lucky: since 2005, when Grand Ayatollah Sistani issued a fatwa calling for the death of gays and lesbians "in the severest way possible," those who are targeted by the various militias or religious extremists in Iraq have been subject to far more grotesque deaths, including beheading and being burnt alive.

Who is leading the "sexual cleansing" of gay Iraqis? Religious fanatics, to be sure, but that answer isn't sufficient. Some victims are murdered by family members, considered an "honor crime" and thus not prosecuted. But most are murdered by organized militias comprised of Iraqi police, the army, and the country's major Shiite political party, the Supreme Iraqi Council. In other words, the very people who will take back their nation after we leave. The Guardian stated in September that "The death squads of the Badr organisation [members of the Supreme Iraqi Council] and the Mahdi army are targeting gays and lesbians, according to UN reports, in a systematic campaign of sexual cleansing." The Badr organization and the Mahdi army are, officially or not, holding the nation together, and without the cooperation, would certainly send Iraq into civil war.

Millions of Iraqis suffered greatly under Saddam Hussein's rule, and gay Iraqis suffered with them. However, they were never targeted for assassination during his rule. Hussein's attitude towards gays was largely ambivalent until late in his rule; he didn't outlaw sodomy until 2001. The social void left by Saddam's ouster was rapidly filled by Shiite fanatics who wanted to reestablish a strict version of sharia law, including executing those who they believed committed "crimes against Islam,” particularly homosexuals.

Outside the country, these very public attacks on homosexuals in Iraq get little attention. According to Newsweek, the murders of gay, lesbian, and transgendered Iraqis are ignored not only by the Iraqi government, but even the United Nations’ human-rights office. Likewise, the Bush Administration has done little other than issue a weak State Department response to Representatives Tammy Baldwin (D-WI) and Barney Frank (D-MA), who had signed a letter to Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice urging her to demand action from the Iraqi government concerning the murders. Although Britain and other nations have granted asylum for GLBT refugees fleeing Iraq (and other Muslim nations), the U.S. government has done nothing. Representative Earl Blumenauer (D-OR) attempted to address this lack of action by introducing the Responsibility to Iraqi Refugees Act in 2007, which included a provision that would have given gay Iraqis high priority for asylum. Although parts of the bill were passed in early 2008, the provision asylum for gay Iraqi asylum seekers was not adopted.

There is no question that American forces will withdraw from Iraq within a few years, leaving perhaps military advisors at most. There is also no question that organized murders of Iraqi LGBTs will not halt as long as the Iraqi government is not pressured. In the wake of Sistani's fatwa, Iraqi LGBT, with funding and support from the Chicago-based Heartland Alliance and London-based OutRage!, set up five "safe houses" for those in danger. Despite attempts to keep the safe houses secret, they were soon targeted; only two remain today. The Progressive estimates that over twenty-six people associated with Iraqi LGBT have been killed, many of whom were directly involved with the safe houses. Although the plight of homosexuals in other Muslim nations (particularly Iran and Saudi Arabia) is just as bad, Iraq is currently unique among Muslim nations in specifically targeting homosexuals for extermination. Given the fundamentalist fervor in Iraq, GLBTs in Iraq may be in mortal danger for decades to come. In a country where one can be arrested merely for writing a scientific article about homosexuality, the safest (and simplest) way of assisting homosexuals, bisexuals, and the transgendered in Iraq is by getting them out of Iraq.

Seventy years ago, this nation reacted a nation's attack on their "undesirables" with a collective shrug. Our reaction to the attack in Iraq is even more problematic because, to paraphrase General Colin Powell, we "broke" Iraq. If it is our responsibility to fix this nation, we should do our part and take in those with no future in the new Iraq. There are Iraqis being targeted for death as an indirect result of our actions in that nation, and it is our responsibility, our obligation, to rescue them from extermination. Yes, gay rights supporters have a lot of work to do in this country, but we must look outward as well.

Advice for those recruiting cats for Xmas cards

Don't.  Just don't.

Of course, I warned my wife that cats do not celebrate Christmas and thus are not into wearing goofy Santa hats, but did she listen to me?  Nooooooooooooooooooo. 

So enjoy the video and remember: cats are not fans of Christmas.  They much prefer Thanksgiving.

A birthday present from me to you

Have a rare, positive Burning Question:

Complete the following sentence:  Happiness is...

Name as many as possible.

Burning Questions - Happy Fucking Holidays edition

1. It is true that, if a woman puts on a sweater with an embroidered teddy bear on it, her husband/boyfriend vanishes and her hymen grows back?  What about an embroidered snowman?

2. You have developed Plasticman-like powers.  How would you force Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich from office?

3. Be honest: when is the proper time people should be allowed to play Christmas music in the workplace? 

4. Name five professional vocalists, dead or alive, who would form the core of a group of Christmas carolers in hell.

5. "Happy Holidays": Communist/atheist plot or a more polite way of saying, "It's December and because society demands it I must say something perkier.  What's your religion?  Christian?  Jewish?  Wiccan?  How fucking awesome.  Happy whatever.  Now go away before I proclaim a holiday that requires me to break this bottle of gin over your head." 

6. What was the worst thing you ever did while sitting on Santa Claus's lap? 

7. Describe how you would use a fruitcake to kill or capture Osama bin Laden.

8. Finally, what do you want for 2009?

"Happy Holidays,"

the reverend.

The difference between white-collar and blue-collar crime

For all the massive crimes Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich allegedly committed, his bail was set at a whopping $4500.   I could swipe an old lady's purse and cough up a higher bail than that.

A prayer for Bettie

Bettie Page is near death.

You're still beautiful, and you always will be.

"My Favorite Podcast" or "The Joy of Creative Anarchy"

Folks my age remember that exquisitely Mozart-esque 80's TV action show "The A-Team," where four fugitives from justice took on dangerous assignments.  No matter what the assignment was or what trouble the four renegades ran into, you could count on two constants: the guys would succeed at their assignment through brilliant planning and tough-guy cracks, and at least one car would flip over.  Now imagine a quartet of podcasters embarking on similar assignments, but not only do they wreak havoc all over the place, you can't even count on all of them showing up.  And yet, despite a lack of direction, with tangents a-blazing, subjects a-mutating, and random conversational fireballs of musicals, gay sex, science fiction, home repair, central Illinois, Texas, collapsing octogenarians, and torch song-squeaking rodents, the gang gets the job done AND the car flips over.  Of course, the car flips over on ducklings or starving orphans, but you still laugh and applaud at the end.  This is Don't Quit Your Day Job, one of the craziest and funniest podcats out there.  Originally spun off from the hilarious We're Mean Because You're Stupid (itself spun off from the QCast Connection, the best gay comedy podcast in iTunes-land), DQYDJ has since eclipsed the former in sheer number of laughs and is coming perilously close to catching up with the latter. 

It was comparatively more subdued in the beginning.  Two sci-fi/fantasy writers and frequent podcast visitors, Melanie Fletcher and Jerry J. Davis, declared on their first podcast that they would discuss "anything in [their] tiny little minds," but specifically about sci-fi & fantasy, writing, movies, or comics.  The first dozen or so episodes were eccentric but genial, a couple of geeks with dirty minds and helpful suggestions on selling one's writing.  Funny but stable, Melanie and Jerry made the perfect podcast geek couple.  Melanie, the producer of the podcast, boasts a wealth of knowledge and great comedic timing.  Jerry, her co-host, is the amiable nerd whose calming presence keeps the podcast from falling off a cliff.   Remember the good guy in high school or college who was every girl's "best friend" but could never negotiate that into a quickie because he was too nice?  That's Jerry, all grown up.  Whether or not that accurately portrays Jerry in real life is irrelevant.  Behind the headset, he's Joxer to Melanie's Xena, the heroic dork who may not always hit the comedic bullseye, but whose heart is in the right place and you can't help but root for him. 

As with all entertainment shows, chemistry is paramount.  Adding players to or subtracting from one's program can radically alter the show's personality, for good or ill.  One cannot deny that the 1972 version of, say, "Happy Days," had very little to do with the 1983 lineup.  Depending on the size of the production, the  addition,   subtraction, or replacement of even one person can make or break a program.

Patrick Gaik's arrival on DQYDJ was a change in chemistry, all right: adding Patrick to the podcast was a bucket of cesium tossed into a bathtub.  Patrick, an actor based in Bloomington-Normal and a childhood friend of Melanie's, has one of those personalities that could incite drunken gay orgies at a Promise Keepers convention.  Saucy, sweet, outrageous, and immensely talented, he injected both vulgarity and wit into a podcast that lacked neither.  Not long afterwards, Melanie's sister Stacy was thrown into the mix as an occasional "news anchor" but was rapidly absorbed into the gang.  Stacy, who outside the podcast could very well be the most stable of the four, displays little of this online; shrill, oddly maternal, and creative, she hides her comedic skills inside a "What the hell am I doing here?" persona, contributing to the chaos being wrought.

What's crazy about this chaos is not that it works, but that it works so well.  A half-hour, two-person podcast is difficult enough to pull off; but juggling a four-person podcast, all with very distinct personalities, has to be insanely difficult.  Part of the way DQYDJ pulls it off is by rarely having all four podcasters around.  Since Melanie produces and edits the program, she's the sole constant in the DQYDJ universe, but one cannot download the latest podcast knowing who the lineup will be (Patrick once complained that getting everyone to the podcast was "like folding gravy").  And yet this works because each podcaster combination represents its own little podcast, with a slightly altered chemistry.  For instance, when Jerry excused himself for a run of shows recently, the sci-fi/fantasy angle took a back seat, and the Melanie/Patrick relationship took over.  Like the Melanie/Jerry rapport, this comedic partnership runs deep; no matter how outrageous one gets, he or she can count on the other to try to top it, sounding like college kids tipsy on Boones strawberry wine in their dorm room on a Saturday night. 

Is the resulting comedy scatological and immature?  Sure, but it's damned funny scatological and immature humor.  And if I wanted intellectually droll humor 24/7, I could listen to old Mark Russell routines and read Roy Blount Jr. until I succumbed to my valium addiction.  The overall humor, with the exception of the occasional stray inside joke, is infinitely accessible and worth a listen.  You're guaranteed to react, whether in laughter or a pained groan.  Don't Quit Your Day Job doesn't try to make you laugh: like the anarchic format, the laughs are scattered into the air, and if one hits you, so much the better.  But watch out for that flipping car.

That's a lot of dough for hair-nuking one person

While looking for jobs this afternoon, I stumbled across a contest ad: "Enter today for your chance to win $5000 worth of laser hair removal treatments."

Either inflation has shot up the price of laser hair removal, or the clinic that's offering this contest presumes you want to have every hair on your body roasted off so you can look like Ilia from the first Star Trek movie.  Besides, I don't want hair removal: I want hair transfer.  I wouldn't mind moving some, say, leg hair, to my pate.  Never in my adult life have I seen the need for leg hair.  I guess it could, say, prevent wind burn, but I rarely venture outside with naked legs on windy days.  I say move that hair upstairs. 

Same thing with chest hair.  Now, I'm no Brillo pad, but I have some chest hair hanging around, and it has never, ever landed me a job.  I don't think it ever landed me a woman, either.  Among the women I've gotten naked (or even half-naked) with, none ever lost control over seeing my bare chest.  Any excitement on their part seemed linked more to the fact that a guy they were (I presume) attracted to was removing his clothes than anything related to my chest hair.  So the chest hair could be moved up to my roof as well. 

These laser hair-removal programs need to go further with the Star Trek beauty treatment: I want hair teleportation treatment.  Just think: instead of lying down with a laser aimed to nuke various body parts, you can teleport that hair directly to your head.  And if you're a woman with no need for extra hair?  For an extra grand, you could, for example, have your pubic hair teleported onto your bitchy sister-in-law's chin.  Wouldn't that be glorious?  Especially if it happened, say, during her wedding? 

Reverend: "I now pronounce you husband and wife.  <shooooomp>  You may now...WHOA!  errrr...shave the bride."

For five grand, you should be allowed to teleport that hair onto the bridesmaids' chins as well.  Heck, they might as well match.