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Connecting

Question as to perceived hostility

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I’ve been posting comments over in Jeff Jarvis’ space, primarily as a way of learning to not get offended, because if you say something someone doesn’t agree with there, you will get blasted.

In addition, Jarvis does attract some very interesting people who have much good to say, but if you make an idiot comment, these types will ignore you. So, I’ve been in ‘training’ so to speak in how to make comments that engage the more intelligent responder, while learning not to react to the people cruisen’ for a fight.

Interesting thread today on the TypeKey issue in which Jarvis felt that my comment was rude and hostile. To be honest, I didn’t see it as such. If anything, I was frustrated because I’ve felt for some time now that he doesn’t respond to what I write but will respond to other people, instead, and then use this as an indirect response to me.

Maybe I was rude, but hostile and nasty? Hmmm.

So my question is to you to review the comments, and let me know – did you perceive my response to Jarvis as hostile, rude, and nasty? If so, why? If not, why not? Glenn Fleishman seems to agree with Jarvis, but then, they also seem to know each other.

Is that also a factor in perception? How much we seem to ‘know’ the other person, or how much we value them?

Finally, and this is a sensitive one – does gender influence this perception? After all, aren’t girls supposed to be sugar and spice and everything nice. Is a critical comment given by a woman perceived to be more negative than the same type of comment given by a man?

And please be honest. Sigh, knowing my readers, I know you will be.

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Connecting

And Mary is a meter maid

I watched a news item yesterday on television that Hollywood is now scrambling for more religious movies, based on the success of Mel Gibson’s Passion. One person said that religion is suddenly “in”, not to mention “hip”, and we’ll being seeing more obvious displays of Christianity in the future.

Personally, I hadn’t noticed that much of an increase, myself.

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Categories
Connecting Diversity

No other word works but great

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I’m at work on a longer essay for later today or tomorrow on another topic, but I wanted to make a comment about the gay marriages in San Francisco.

Watching the story online and on TV about Gavin Newsom’s carefully planned act of defiance against the State of California, the weekend of gay marriages in San Francisco, the ecstatic faces of the people married – among all the bad news lately, it is a true bright spot.

And it’s not just Newsom – city officials volunteered their three day weekend in order to grant marriage licenses and perform weddings. It was a pure delight to see it, and this is one of those few times I wish I had been back in San Francisco. I would have loved to throw confetti and rice over the newly married couples as they left City Hall.

And the weddings continue because judges have refused to issue immediate stays on the issuance of marriage licenses, even though two groups have tried to get them stopped.

And why are they stopping the marriages? What possible harm can it be to allow gays to marry? That isn’t going to encourage people to become homosexual. It isn’t going to undermine the concept of marriage for the straights. If anything, gays may bring a more stable element: some of the people who have been getting married have been together 30, 40, even 50 years. Fifty percent of straight marriages end in divorce. Exactly what have we done for the institution lately?

Look at this picture that I copied from the Chronicle – is this the photo of two criminals committing a crime against humanity?

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Only if your view of humanity is very narrow, and your sense of what is criminal is very wide.

And the stories. My favorite is the following, from the Chronicle:

Melinda McCallister, 25, and Jennifer Kemmet, 23, drove Tuesday from Los Angeles. As they got to the door of the clerk’s office at 4 p.m., they were told that they’d have to come back today because the office was closing for the day; the couple before them was to be the last one to get in.

They sat down and cried. The door reopened and a worker yelled, “Hey L.A.! ‘’ and let them in.

They emerged from City Hall an hour later with a marriage certificate in hand.

This news coming out of San Francisco, is the first news I’ve heard in a month, over a month, of the triumph of the human spirit, the fire of those who will not accept the dictates of a hypocritical society, and the goodness of people reaching out to other people.

How can it be so damn bad?

Governor Schwarzenegger, that poster boy for good heterosexual behavior, talks about how this is a violation of an act passed by the California voters.

“I support all of California’s existing laws that provide domestic partnership benefits and protections,’’ Schwarzenegger said. However, he said, “Californians spoke on the issue of same-sex-marriage’’ when voters approved of Proposition 22, the 2000 initiative that defines marriage as between a man and a woman. “I support that law and encourage San Francisco officials to obey that law,’’ he said.

The beauty of a country that’s a republic rather than a true democracy is that majority may rule, but minority have rights – and if California has decreed that gays may not be discriminated against, then this law is a violation of that basic right.

Fuck the majority who have nothing better to do then react in fear to change!

I have heard the most outrageous attacks against gay marriage:

“What’s to stop mothers from marrying sons?”

“This will only serve to breed more homosexuality.”

“Marriage is a natural act, between a man and a woman.”

“Gays marrying will undermine the integrity of marriage.”

“Queers belong back in the closet instead of out in the open, kissing and things.”

That last is my own because most people won’t say this out loud, but you know that’s the true story behind the fear of gay marriage.

I remember one incident, walking home one night when I was in college, in Ellensburg a fairly conservative town in Washington. The Gay Students group had just broken up and I was following two guys who were holding hands. Just holding hands.

They heard my footsteps behind them and jerked their hands apart and hastily moved away from each other, both turning to look behind them in fear.

My god that people have to act this way in this country because others have such sad, pathetic lives that all they can do is interfere with the happiness, or needs, of others. My god, and that is the key isn’t it? My ‘god’. I bet it just burns you up when I use ‘god’ in lower case, as an average thing rather than a diety.

Why don’t you pass a law making this illegal?

No, the only reason I can think of for people to continue to get angry about gay marriage is that these same people are afraid of challenges to their sense of normalcy. They say:

Sex is between a man and a woman. A family consists of a mother and a father and kids. Marriage is for straight people only. Marriage is a holy state. God has willed this.

They mean:

My world has been upset too much the last few years, and I can’t handle any more change in it. I want my normal life back. I want the terror to go away. I want the gays to fade back into the shadows. I want everyone to believe like I do so that my faith isn’t questioned and I don’t have to listen to anything that might make me doubt it.

Because if I once begin to doubt my faith, I may start to doubt every aspect of my life, and I can’t handle that.

Your freedom is not worth shaking up my world. If I see you holding hands in public, my world will crack. If I see you married, my world will shatter.

I don’t want any more change. I don’t want any more change. I don’t want any more change.

But how do you keep them on the farm once they’ve seen Gay Pairee?

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Too great not to pass on

From an SFGate.com story by David Kravets and Lisa Leff, AP writers:

Two judges delayed taking any action Tuesday to shut down San Francisco’s same-sex wedding spree, citing court procedures as they temporarily rebuffed conservative groups enraged that the city’s liberal politicians had already married almost 2,400 gay and lesbian couples.

The second judge told the plaintiffs that they would likely succeed on the merits eventually, but that for now, he couldn’t accept their proposed court order because of a punctuation error.

It all came down to a semicolon, the judge said.

“I am not trying to be petty here, but it is a big deal … That semicolon is a big deal,” said San Francisco Superior Court Judge James Warren.

The Proposition 22 Legal Defense and Education Fund had asked the judge to issue an order commanding the city to “cease and desist issuing marriage licenses to and/or solemnizing marriages of same-sex couples; to show cause before this court.”

“The way you’ve written this it has a semicolon where it should have the word ‘or’,” the judge told them. “I don’t have the authority to issue it under these circumstances.”…

Lawyers for both sides then spent hours arguing about punctuation and court procedures during the hearing, which was still continuing late Tuesday afternoon.

(via Language Hat)

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Connecting

The gift of my absence

I am being very auctorial today.

Today I needed to get the road salt washed off my car, but it really wasn’t that dirty and seemed a shame to waste a good wash. So I took it to a dirt parking area next to one of my hikes, and sure enough it was filled with partially thawed ice and mud. I then spent an enjoyable hour ‘off roading’ with my little Focus, getting stuck in mud and sliding on ice, speeding up and turning circles, racing at puddles and splashing the dirty water all over the car.

The carwash I use is a drive through but there’s always high school or college kids who run a long-handled brush over the front window, the back, and tires before going through. I’ve never felt that my little, unsexy Focus got the attention it deserved. Today, though, when I pulled up to the drive through, the three guys who do a quick pre-scrub just looked at my mud covered car, and I do believe that I’ve earned a whole new level of respect.

On the way home, I stopped by to pick up a Turtle Cake from the neighborhood bakery. This chocolate cake is wonderful, though it was hard to resist the other goodies today. There’s something about playing in the mud that gets one hungry. However, the cake is my roommate’s favorite and it was for him, so I resisted the other delights. Even the little heart shaped cheesecakes dipped in dark chocolate, or the scrumptious cherry pies.

Saturday is Valentine’s Day, but it’s also my roommates 50th birthday. When we first met years and years ago, one of the things that appealed to him about me – aside from my charm and beauty, of course –was that when he mentioned his birth date, I didn’t pop up with, “Oh. You’re a Valentine’s Baby.” He thought I was being delicate, but it was really the tequila (we were introduced at a bar by a mutual friend). Cognition of holidays is the first to go when under the influence of tequila.

Through friendship to relationship to marriage through the failure of marriage and back to friendship, we’ve always celebrated both his birthday and Valentine’s Day at the same time, until we just stopped celebrating Valentine’s along with most other holidays. (I think when you’ve seen one rose velvet box of chocolates, you’ve seen then all, and Hallmark really doesn’t need any more money from us.)

We always would go out to dinner on his birthday though. But not this year. This year, my gift to my roommate on his special birthday is my absence.

Sounds funny, doesn’t it? Giving absence as a gift?

We assume that the greatest gift we give each other is our presence. We believe that the more time we spend with each other, the more we must care for each other. We talk about being inseparable, or being ‘joined at the hip’, as if we’ll forget each other with time apart. Wiggle fingered, smoochy stuff. Some married couples even pride themselves on never being apart, from the day they marry until the day one dies. This is literally beyond my comprehension.

Rob, my roommate, and I share many things in common; a need for time alone is one of them. To us, solitary time isn’t a burden, it’s a gift.

Oh, it’s not that we’re unsocial. Rob has friends and the people at work, and they brought him lovely cards and gifts for his birthday. I also have family and friends, and not just in the virtual world, either, though most of my friends are scattered about the planet. No, we just need to have our quiet time alone.

Instead of dragging him out for dinner, I’m heading out on the road and giving him the place to himself (stocked with Chinese food prepared ahead of time in addition to the cake).

That’s why the car wash today, as I prepare for the road, and the gift of my absence. I have no idea where I’m going or even what direction I’ll head. I decided to follow the weather and my own inclinations …

…and a lonely impulse of delight.

 

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Connecting

Responding

I am somewhat disappointed that my response to Bush’s speech has not received many comments, though the comments I have received – agree with me or not – are of the type one hopes to attract when making strong statements.

Ah me, that’s the difficulty of this medium and commentary at times – just because you think you write something noteworthy, doesn’t mean everyone agrees. All you can do is shrug your shoulders, relish the writing of those who do take time to respond (and so eloquently, too!), and move on.

Or you could, like Stavros the Wonder Chicken, throw a different party:

Weblogs are a party, damn it, and sometimes they’re publications too, or instead, and sometimes they’re diaries, sometimes they’re pieces of art, sometimes they’re tools for self-promotion, sometimes they’re money-maknig ventures, sometimes they’re monuments to ego, sometimes they’re massive wanks, sometimes they’re public services, sometimes they’re dedications of faith, sometimes they’re communities. Always, they are a public face, one chosen and crafted to varying degrees, of the people who write them. They are avatars, masks, or revelations of our deepest selves. They are political or philosophical, merrily inebriate or sententiously sober. Do not listen to those who would tell you what they are not.

These people will destroy your soul. Classification is for insects.

My name’s wonderchicken, and I am a wild party.