More on Doc Meyers, and on Abstinence

Bless her heart. She may have been bugging Kraft lately about its support of the "homosexual lifestyle," but Marcella Meyers, M.D., M.P.H., has been doing this activism thing for quite a while.

Way back in the 1970s, she got nervous when the schools tried to teach her kids about contraception. So she started something called the Southwest Parent Committee in Chicago. In 1990, with Meyers as project director, SPC was a subcontractor for a troubled abstinence-only educational program in that city.

1998 and 2003, Meyers appeared on WGN Radio (Chicago) pushing her abstinence-only agenda.

In 2001 she submitted a proposed resolution – twice – to the American College of Preventive Medicine asking that organization to “go on record as approving [the] Abstinence Education Programs for young people.” On account of the after-effects of the Sexual Revolution, you see.

The ACPM declined to adopt the resolution, saying that “evidence supporting the effectiveness of such abstinence programs was lacking. Several committee members commented that any abstinence education program should be part of a more comprehensive sexual education curriculum.”

For whatever reason, Dr. Meyers has now turned her attention to us gay folk and our evil ways. Lucky us.

So, anyway, why am I picking on Dr. M? Well, mostly it's because I got bored. And when reference librarians get bored, they research stuff.

But I also got curious -- why would someone who's a scientist -- a public-health scientist -- take a political stand that's, well, unscientific and unhealthy? Not just about the gay stuff, but about a critical health issue like sex education?

Which leads me straight to my soap box for today.

Abstinence-only education does not save lives any more than it saves souls. Indeed, one study found that compared to other kids, students in abstinence-only programs were:

• less likely to feel comfortable asking questions of parents or other trusted adults about sex;

• less likely to understand how decisions about sex can change their future;

• less likely to understand how alcohol and drugs can influence decisions about sex;

• less likely to have skills to resist pressure to have sex; and

• less knowledgeable about the consequences of having a baby as a teenager.

Look, I’m not wild about the idea of my daughter having sex either. Frankly, I'm hoping she'll put off dating until she's around 42. Or maybe 50.

And believe it or not, I do preach abstinence. I don’t want her to be sexually active until she’s married, and I've told her so. Hey, I can be just as provincial as anybody.

At the same time, though, if she decides to ignore my advice, I’m sure not willing to sacrifice the life of my daughter – or anybody else’s kid – just because I’m a little squeamish about sex.

Of course, it does take all kinds, and this is America. I admire the doctor's activist spirit. I really do. It's just too damn bad her brand of activism is fatal.

See also this New York Times article for an overview on the results of abstinence-only education.

But I hate Velveeta…

Darn it all! Now one of my favorite corporate villains, Kraft Foods – you know, the mega-conglomerate that owns RJR tobacco – is doing noble things. I’ve been boycotting Kraft (and Nabisco) for years because of its tobacco holdings. Now what am I supposed to do?

Well, Marcella V. Meyer, M.D., M.P.H, knew what to do. You see, Dr. Meyer is a shareholder and she doesn't like how Kraft is spending its charitable contributions. Specifically, she is peeved that the corporation is helping to sponsor the 2006 Gay Games to be held in Chicago this summer.

So Doc Meyer submitted a shareholder proposal requesting that, in the “best interest of our company Kraft Foods Inc. as well as in the public interest, Kraft Foods . . . hereby disassociate itself from the 2006 and all future so-called "gay games", and that no future financial support be given for the 2006 "gay games" or any other future activities supporting, proselytizing, promoting or encouraging homosexual activity or life style.”

And on what does she base her proposal? Well, it’s quite a stretch. Among other things, the good doctor is worried that “because of the ‘gay game’ sponsorship by our company, Kraft Foods may at some future date be found to be complicit and legally liable in a case in which a young attendee at the "gay games" decides to experiment with homosexual encounters and later develops a serious, even fatal, illness.”

Like I said, it’s a stretch.

So where do the white hats come in? Well, Kraft's board of directors considered the doctor’s proposal and recommended that shareholders vote against it. And I’m happy to report that the shareholders did exactly that, voting it down by a margin of more than 99 to 1.

Naturally, some wingnuts are attempting to chalk the vote up to shareholder apathy and inaction.

(Uh, how come when they win, it’s a moral victory, but when we win, it’s just voter apathy?)

By the way, the American Family Association has had an action alert posted about Kraft for nearly a year now. I figure any company that invokes the wrath of the AFA just can't be all bad.

Looks like mac and cheese for dinner tonight!

Why it's a really bad idea to do drugs

Not that there's much debate about it, but here is a cautionary tale about using drugs.

Well, are they civil or aren’t they?

From time to time, I’m told that it’s wrong to compare the gay rights movement with the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s. I have a lot of trouble with this. While it is certainly true that I will never understand what it is to be African American, it is equally that a heterosexual African American male cannot know what it is to be female or gay.

What is most disheartening is that this “gay rights aren’t civil rights” argument has been co-opted -- if not created -- by right-wing demagogues who seek to divide groups that should otherwise be working together. After all, extreme right-wing hate-mongers see African Americans, gays and lesbians, Jews and Muslims in about the same light.

In any event, just what does the term “civil rights” mean, and can it truly be applied to our struggle?

According to www.dictionary.com (I’m too lazy to get up and go use a real dictionary), “civil rights” means the following:

civil rights
pl.n.

The rights belonging to an individual by virtue of citizenship, especially the fundamental freedoms and privileges guaranteed by the 13th and 14th Amendments to the U.S. Constitution and by subsequent acts of Congress, including civil liberties, due process, equal protection of the laws, and freedom from discrimination.

adj. or civ·il-rights

1. Of or relating to such rights or privileges: civil rights legislation.
2. Of or relating to a political movement, especially during the 1950s and 1960s, devoted to securing equal opportunity and treatment for members of minority groups.

If these definitions are correct, then the term does, indeed, apply. Putting aside the issue that seem to freak everyone out – sex and marriage – consider the following

• In most American jurisdictions, I can be fired from my job – any job – because I’m a lesbian.
• In most American jurisdictions, I can be refused service at restaurants, hotels, and other businesses because I am a lesbian.

• In most American jurisdictions, I can be denied housing because I’m a lesbian.
• In many states, I cannot adopt a child because I am a lesbian.
• If my child becomes the subject of a custody dispute, she can be taken away from me because I am a lesbian.
• I cannot serve in the military because I am a lesbian.
• In many American communities, I put myself in physical danger if I am open about being a lesbian. Therefore, I must be careful what I say and what I read in public
• Of the 14 victims of hate-motivated murders reported by the FBI in 2003, 6 were gay – more than any other group. Of 5 rape victims, 3 were lesbian or gay (leaving aside, of course, the fact that all rapes are hate crimes).

Dunno. Sounds pretty damned civil to me. Coretta Scott King thought so, too.

That's Jerry With An L

Poor Jerry. Falwell, that is. Not Fallwell with two Ls, but Falwell with one L.

You see, Jerry is a – well, you all know perfectly well what Jerry is – and an enterprising fellow named Christopher Lamparello decided to call it like he sees it, on a website of his own making called www.fallwell.com. That's Fallwell with 2 Ls, not Falwell with 1 L (there's a parody of "Liza with a Z" in there somewhere, I'm sure of it!).

To be truthful, Lamparello doesn't really attack Jerry personally; just Jerry's views on homosexuality.

Well, Jerry-with-an-L dishes it out pretty good, but he can't take it. So, not appreciating the criticism, he sued Lamparello for trademark infringement.

A federal district court agreed with Jerry-With-An-L, and told Lamparello to cut it out or else.

Lamparello appealed and won at the circuit-court level. The appeals court found that www.fallwell didn’t violate the anticybersquatting provisions of federal trademark laws.

Anticybersquatting... Now there’s a visual.

Anyway, Jerry-with-an-L – not one to give up easily – appealed that ruling to the U.S. Supreme Court. The Court denied certiorari, which means that it’s not even going to give him a chance to make his argument, much less side in his favor. In other words, he's stuck with the appeals court decision and Lamparello gets to keep his website. You lost, buddy.

Want to know the best part? Both parties agreed that www.fallwell.com had minimal impact on Jerry-with-an-L, and they even stipulated the site only received around 200 visitors per day.

So if Jerry-with-an-L had kept his big mouth shut and ignored the site, hardly anybody would have seen it. But because Jerry is a – well, you all know perfectly well what Jerry is – anyway, because he is one, our friend Lamparello has probably had a whole lot more than 200 visitors per day lately.

I visited Jerry's website, by the way, to see if there was any response and -- well, whaddya know. No mention whatsoever of his defeat or of the lawsuit, at least not at first (and only) glance. Surprise, surprise. Too bad the horse's ass is already out of the barn.

Jerry, you’re such a – well, you know.

It's time for bad writing, and for me to get a routine!

I don't know if anybody out there is still listening -- I'm sorry I've been sooooo quiet. Burn-out from resume-writing, car problems, Doc landing in the emergency room with a leg injury, and oh everything. I need a house, a car, a schedule!

At any rate, I'm happy to report that I did manage to submit my entries to the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest today. You remember him right? The guy who gave Snoopy his start as a writer by coining the opening line, "It Was a Dark and Stormy Night."

The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest challenges entrants to outdo the old fellow by writing bad opening lines of their own. The deadline is tomorrow, but it sounds like they're pretty loose about it.

Here are my entries, just for fun. I didn't manage to hit every category, but I got most of 'em.

Bulwer-Lytton writing contest entries

Sci-fi. As the hatch opened, a creature with one foot and four long toes danced down the ramp like drunken slugs trying to find their way home after a bachelor party at a strip joint, leading me to wonder if the Pony Lounge does catering, and when the thing caressed my cigarette with one finger and murmured “Mmmphlgmmmlpht,” my jaw dropped like scabs from an eczemic rabbit.

Children’s. As Cinderella’s stepmother stared down at the knife buried deep in her own aging breast, and as the crimson blood and green bile poured from her hanging entrails onto the freshly scrubbed stone hearth, she realized that she probably should have said “please” when she asked Cinderella for yet another crumpet.

Dark and stormy. It could have been any dark and stormy night, except it was about eight in the morning and there weren’t any clouds except for a wispy thing on the horizon that reminded me of my grandmother’s hair (except that it wasn’t blue), but still, my heart was dark and stormy because of the terrible loneliness that comes with getting more than your fill, as only Michael Jackson knows, and now me.

Western. The cowboy was thin, as thin as a jackalope that has been chased by a coyote for three days, except that there’s no such thing as a jackalope so you really can’t imagine it, but if you could, its ribs would show three sides to Wyoming in a bucket of spurs.

Detective. The face of that dame was stuck in my head like a scab on someone’s nose you’ve just got to pick, like spinach in somebody’s teeth that you try not to look at, like a hair in somebody’s mole you’re longing to pluck, somebody like that dame with the scab and the mole and the spinach in her teeth.

Romance. “I love you,” Sevilla whined, and she dropped her eyes and her pants; but while Marvin’s virile masculinity wished he could love her femininity, it was Ted’s virile masculinity that stimulated his own masculinity, which was unfortunate because Ted was four hundred miles away having a sex-change operation so he wouldn’t be all that masculine when he got back.

Romance2. Marynda looked adoringly at Jean-Pierre, but when she saw the disappointment in his face she cried out in anguish, because she knew that by failing to forward his email to fifty friends, she had revealed herself to be utterly contemptuous, and she knew then that she would die an old maid, dried up like an old, unchewed-up raisin.

Adventure. On a breezy summer day thirty-five intrepid souls waited for the beginning of the 24^th Annual Around-The-World Pencil-Flipping Tourney; but while thirty-four of the adventurers held regulation number-two pencils, they couldn’t know – nor could the enthusiastic crowd – that the thirty-fifth contestant, one Sludge T. Hardlip, held a cleverly disguised number-three.

Adventure2. "Heigh-ho," said the knight as he rounded the corner on his steed of gray, not the gray of an unpainted old Studebaker that's overheating but gray like that moldy stuff that grows in coffee when it’s been sitting around for a few days because the boss is too lazy to empty his own cup and the secretary won’t do coffee and rightly so.

Open Joyful Sourcing

The ultimate good desired is better reached by free trade in ideas - the best test of truth is the power of the thought to get itself accepted in the competition of the market . . . . Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, dissenting in Abrams v. United States, 250 U.S. 616 (1919).

I hardly ever write about real librarian stuff because . . . well, to tell you the truth, it’s really boring. But as I learned in Civil Procedure, even the most mundane things are sometimes really about justice. So today, I address the wonderful world of open sourcing. Which, I’m afraid, is true library stuff.

For those who don't know, “open sourcing” is sort of the first-amendment adversary-system version of writing software. Essentially, program code is written and evaluated in the light of day. People can use it for free, have access to the code, revise it, even sell it. By letting everyone have a crack at it, you get everyone's good ideas and the software improves at a rate far faster than it can in the hush-hush world of proprietary secrets a la Microsoft. That's the theory, anyway, and it sounds reasonable to me.

I bring this up because my laptop died over the weekend and I had to buy a new computer. Since most of my moonlighting income depends on being able to format resumes, I have to have a really good word-processing program.

I thought my only options were Word and WordPerfect – both of which are pricey if you're broke, which I usually am. I did end up buying Word on eBay because I’m too corporate-conditioned to try to go without the “real thing.” But Glory Be, I think I may have been wrong!

OpenOffice does most of what Microsoft Office does. It’s got decent clones of Word, Access, Excel, PowerPoint, and some other stuff.

And it’s free.

This software has been around for a few years, and it’s probably not news to you, but it sure was news to me.

Maybe if I'd been reading all that boring librarian stuff I get in the mail every day, I would have known about it before now....

Anyway... Oh – did I mention that it’s free?

As it turns out I couldn’t get OpenOffice to download because I’m just sort of a moron when it comes to stuff like that. Fortunately we are just beginning to test OpenOffice for use at the law school, and our esteemed IT guru was able to give it to me on a disk. So I’m now an official tester.

There’s something deliciously socialist about the whole thing, don’t you think? The People’s Software.

Word is getting out…so to speak.

Just one more thing, this time about Oliver Wendell Holmes. Although he was right about that marketplace-of-ideas thing, he was real idiot in other areas. In upholding the right of the state to forcibly sterilize a mentally challenged woman, he wrote, "Three generations of imbeciles are enough." Buck v. Bell, 274 U.S. 200 (1927). Nice, huh?

Ironically, Holmes' own nastiness provides a good illustration of why the free and open exchange of ideas is so vital to a democracy.

For more information about OpenOffice, try these links:

http://documentation.openoffice.org/manuals/oooauthors2/0101GS-WhatIsOOo.pdf

http://www.openoffice.org.

Oh Happy Day!

Whew!!!

I’m working on very little sleep here, so forgive whatever follows.

The application is In. Finished. Complete, I hope. My daughter the artist has submitted her application to our city’s public school of the arts. And with it, her first portfolio and her first taste of college life, even though this isn’t college.

And my role in all this? Well, I didn’t read her essay answers, and she wouldn’t let me see the artwork until pretty late in the game. I didn’t even nag. Nope. I was strictly gopher and cheerleader. I made sure that she had what she needed to get the job done, and I got my part done (getting a transcript and proof of residency and making sure she knew what she needed) and I delivered the application.

I’m really very proud of myself, because inside me is a seriously deranged stage mom who knows all the answers. And not once did I say, “You know, if you’d started earlier, you wouldn’t have to rush now.” (She started weeks ago; who knew she would need months?).

I kept things positive and supportive. I let her stay up all night to finish, but I made her go to school on the due date.

The results, I am very proud to say – although I take no credit – are stunning. Toward the end I got to see it all, and it took my breath away. Zeze submitted five pieces of art that range from whimsical to heart-wrenching. She may not get in, but it sure won’t be for lack of talent or drive. How on earth did I merit the privilege of caring for this incredible child?

Killer Cat on the Loose

Some days I wish I had a cat like this.

It's Half a Century and ... Oh... Uh, Never Mind...

Yes, folks, it's 50. The Big Five-Oh. Fifty-fifty-fifty-fifty. Half a century. Two quarters of a century put together. Eligible to join AARP! And as I mentioned a few days ago, so far so good.

Except. . . didn't my ex-husband just mention to me that it was his 50th birthday? And ... wait, I didn't think we were the same age .... We're just a couple months apart? No, that's not right ... Let me think . . . x + y, carry the one ...

Wha?????

Seems I celebrated the half-way point a little prematurely. I'm 49, not 50.

Color me embarrassed. But young!

The Sweater and the Bumble Bee

When I was 30-ish or so, I learned the basics of knitting. And then I made a sweater. It was a long-sleeve pull-over with a hood, and there were all kinds of cable patterns on it. It was too big, but basically it worked pretty well and I wore it for a long time.

It wasn't until after I was finished that I discovered the sweater required advanced knitting skills -- no way was it a beginner's project. Fortunately I didn't know it so I managed it just fine. Sort of like the bumblebee who can't really fly but doesn't know it so she does it anyway. (Sidenote: the bumblebee can too fly).

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about this huge project I want to do. No, it's not knitting. I've only told one person about it and she told me I was nuts. It's definitely way beyond my present skill level; on the other hand, it's not beyond what I'm capable of learning. And my ideas are reasonably well developed and might even turn out to be halfway decent.

So I've been thinking about that old sweater. Should I take on a project that is way beyond my abilities? Even if it will take years and will probably never bring in a penny?

Hmmm.

Oh, Boy, It's the Big Five-Oh

A week from today, I’m going to be fifty years old. Rather than thinking about how I’m so old (which I’m pretty sure I’m not), I’d rather focus on the stuff I’ve experienced so far, which I’m pleased to say is considerable. Here is a list, which I may add to as the week goes by:

~ Lived on the Navajo Nation

~ Written a book

~ Had really incredible sex

~ Sliced head cheese for the mob

~ Been clean and sober for over 24 years

~ Been married and divorced

~ Had a child

~ Been thin (and not)

~ Lived in New Jersey, Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, Massachusetts, Oklahoma, and Georgia

~ Traveled for 6,000 miles, pretty much nonstop, on a Greyhound bus.

~ Gone to law school

~ Driven a pick-up truck (this week, in fact!)

~ Been Presbyterian, Jewish, Quaker, and pagan (all at the same time, even)

~ Lived in a trailer

~ Had cats, dogs, turtles, tortoises, fish, horses, gerbils, hamsters, and guinea pigs

~ Earned money as a writer

~ Practiced law in a big firm

~ Swam in the ocean

~ Been picked up by a professional gambler outside Las Vegas

~ Read and written pornography

~ Been published

~ Been saved by a nun

~ Sung on stage in two countries

~ Seen two musicals on Broadway

~ Done musical comedy

~ Learned to play several musical instruments at least a little

~ Quit smoking

~ Taught in graduate school

~ Worked for an answering service, nursing home, hospital, hotel, drug store, college, federal judge, and law school

~ Been inside the cab of a big rig

~ Flown in a helicopter

~ Grown tomatoes

~ Been a live-in nanny

~ Been on television at least twice (once dressed in large puppet suit and once interviewed)

~ Have been two degrees removed from Jimmy Hoffa and the Dalai Lama (not through the same person!)

~ Known writers, singers, pharmacists, doctors, actors, strippers, prostitution madams, and a phone-sex operator

Ok, so this isn’t so awfully bad for 50 years, although I confess I’ve just done little dabs of a lot of the things on my list. Most of it came just by my being open to new experiences, but that’s been a lot harder to do in the past few years. So for my next decade, I ask the Goddess to keep me open to whatever She may have in store.

So... what's on your list?

Ok, Maybe Not So Butch…

Doc is out of town. The electric fence is not working, and I woke up to two horses galloping around our little trailer. It’s not easy catching a couple of half-ton animals, even tame ones.

Ok, I was butch for a day. Now I’m ready for her to be Barbara Stanwyck again.

Umm, anybody got a lasso?

Call Me Butch, Babe

For a few days at least, I have a car. No, I have a truck. A genu-ine pick-up truck. It’s been four months since I had transportation of any kind (of my own, anyway). I only have it now because Doc is out of town and she’s got our one-and-only car.

Anyway, I wanted a PT Cruiser, but the rental place didn’t have any. They offered me a Dodge Ram 1500, which was way too big for this girly-girl, so they gave me a Dodge Dakota instead. Which I’m still trying to figure out how to park. And reaching the pedals is a challenge. And I can’t reach the radio or the cup-holder too well (this is definitely not a vehicle for short people). Still, I am enjoying the illusion of butchiness, for just a little while.

So here I am at the Starbucks, alone. Blessedly alone. Sorry, Doc, I love you dearly, but I’m sure you’re enjoying your break from chauffeuring me around.

A butch babe alone with her pick-up truck. Ahhhh. Butchy goodness. Guess I’ll go rip up a phone book or spit or something. Yeah.

Spies in the Closet

From the Gay News Blog comes news of yet another troubling development. Gay activists have come upon a quiet change made by the Bush administration in providing security clearance to GLBT Americans.

In 1995, President Clinton issued an executive order saying that sexual orientation "may not be used as a basis for or a disqualifying factor in determining a person's eligibility for a security clearance."

This past December, however, President Bush approved a rule change that removed this wording. The new rule substituted language saying that security clearance cannot be denied "solely on the basis of the sexual orientation of the individual."

National Security Council spokesman Frederick Jones says the new wording was not designed to change the meaning; rather, it was intended to clarify the 1995 executive order.

If no change in meaning was intended, those smart lawyers in Washington must have come up with new language that means the same thing but is clearer. Right?

Well, let's compare the language.

Here's the 1995 wording again: Sexual orientation "may not be used as a basis for or a disqualifying factor in determining a person's eligibility for a security clearance." Note the phrase "disqualifying factor."

Well, I hate to admit it, but that phrase isambiguous. Does it mean that you can't disqualify someone just because of their sexual orientation, although you can use it as one factor among many? Or, does it mean that sexual orientation can't even be used as a factor in disqualifying someone?

In changing the wording, the Bush administration has capitalized on this ambiguity to roll back GLBT rights. It has chosen the first of the two possible meanings: Security clearance cannot be denied "solely on the basis of the sexual orientation of the individual."

Now, think about what that means: It's ok for someone to be denied security clearance for being lesbian, as long as it's only 99% of the reason and not 100%.

Should sexual orientation never be an issue? What about the married man having a clandestine affair with another man (or the man in a committed same-sex relationship who's having an affair with a woman)?

That's the only situation I can think of where it should be an issue, and even there, it's not the sexual orientation that's the problem. It's the secret affair. Which is why Clinton wisely said, according to the Gay News Blog, that "sexual behavior may be a security concern if it involves a criminal offense, suggests an emotional disorder, could subject someone to coercion or shows a lack of judgment."

Bush had two options if he wanted to clear up the ambiguity. He could have said sexual orientation should never be an issue, but he didn't do that. Instead, he specifically chose the more discriminatory meaning. And ironically, in doing so, he created a security concern where there would have been none otherwise. You see, sexual orientation may now subject an agent to coercion where it didn't before -- because it can now be cited as one reason for removing that agent's security clearance.

I suspect this is just how the radical right likes it.

Oh, Exodus...

UPDATE: I was able to get the picture uploaded this morning. Enjoy!

Show's over. Back to reality (quick note: the show went well, except that I forgot the words Sunday night. Ouch. A couple people said they didn't notice... Ok, I suppose "uh, hmmm, uh, duh, sections of the heart" -- sung while drooling -- could have been mistaken for the real words...). Turned out fine, though, and a good time was had by all.

Anyway, reality.

Poor, abused Exodus. They're all bent out of shape because a while back a clever blogger (wish I'd thought of it!) posted a parody of Exodus's billboards on his website. They're demanding that he remove it for copyright violation. But copyright law allows "fair use" of someone else's copyrighted work, including use in parody. Hence, Exodus' argument is, in technical lawyer-talk, seriously lame-o.

Just to bait Exodus (notice how many times I'm using their name in this posting?), I'm posting Justin's wonderful picture.

Sorry for the quiet...

...but I've been in rehearsals for a show (!). Yep. Singing and stuff. Me! Even a solo, almost. And some comedy. Just finished the second of three performances. I'm playing with a Mr. Microphone (ok, ok, it's a karaoke machine) to get used to using a microphone. I feel pretty silly but the dogs like it.

And I'm having a blast. I'm really lucky to be in this group -- it's an auditioned gay and lesbian chorus and this is our annual cabaret.

Anyway, I'm feeling lucky, wound up, exhausted, happy, and very, very humbled by the talent surrounding me. I'm definitely outclassed but still, what a kick!

I'll check back in a couple days when the show's over.

Death Penalty Redux

I’ve always been a strong opponent of the death penalty.  Now that I’ve read this article, though, I think I may need to reconsider.  

A Class Act with a Mission

I’m probably just slow on the uptake, but I hadn’t heard about the Patriot Guard Riders until today, when I saw an article detailing their latest mission in Minnesota.

It sounds like some neofascist group, doesn’t it? Just the opposite, it seems. The job of the Patriot Guard Riders is . . . well, let them tell you through their mission statement:

“The Patriot Guard Riders is a diverse amalgamation of riders from across the nation. We have one thing in common besides motorcycles. We have an unwavering respect for those who risk their very lives for America’s freedom and security. If you share this respect, please join us.

“We don’t care what you ride, what your political views are, or whether you’re a ‘hawk’ or a ‘dove’. It is not a requirement that you be a veteran. It doesn't matter where you’re from or what your income is. You don’t even have to ride. The only prerequisite is Respect.

“Our main mission is to attend the funeral services of fallen American heroes as invited guests of the family. Each mission we undertake has two basic objectives.

“1. Show our sincere respect for our fallen heroes, their families, and their communities.

“2. Shield the mourning family and friends from interruptions created by any protestor or group of protestors.

“We accomplish the latter through strictly legal and non-violent means.”

In other words, the mission of the Patriot Guard Riders is to attend funerals of American soldiers – when invited – and to shield the mourners from attacks by the members of Westboro Baptist Church – Yeah, that church. See, Fred Phelps and his ilk like to show up at soldiers’ funerals to torture the families. They figure that the U.S. is too gay-friendly (ok, I must have missed the news bulletin on this!) so anyone who fights for the U.S. is bound for hell as a punishment.

The Patriot Guard not only shields the family from such hatred, but it refuses to engage the protesters in return: “If you’re looking for a group that protests, counter-protests or confronts any organization, you’re in the wrong place. The PGR is not a protest group.”

Pretty cool, huh? Now, I’m not a dyke on a bike, and to be perfectly honest, seeing all the Harleys and burly guys in bandanas and links to veterans’ associations makes me a tad uneasy.

But I’m hooked enough to want to know more. If these folks really are what they claim to be, and I hope they are, then there’s going to be at least one card-carrying lesbian joining their next Georgia mission.

Oh….an important side note here: I support the speeches made at Coretta Scott King’s funeral. The speakers were requested by the family and what they said was consistent with Mrs. King’s life and values. Totally different thing than unwelcome intruders coming in to make a fuss.

Oh, and one more thing: that link above for Fred Phelps? That goes to the Wikipedia entry on him. I don’t know how much of it is true, but hoo boy, it makes for a whale of a Lifetime movie.

Oh, PABBIS, I am Librarian, Hear Me Roar!

From www.pabbis.com – Parents Against Bad Books in Schools – comes a truly remarkable news release about The Evil That Is the American Library Association. I’ve heard tirades against the ALA before, but this one takes the cake. But don’t trust me, read some excerpts for yourself:

The un-American ALA has taken the American constitutional right of freedom of speech and has perverted it into their right to push graphic and explicit smut on children. ALA and ALA affiliate brown boot bullies are constantly working to implement their weird social Marxist agenda. What started, purportedly, as a professional union-like organization for librarians has morphed into a powerful, dangerous, leftist, extremist organization.
…

In schools and libraries you are seeing and will continue to see increasing use of graphic and explicit books. The ALA and ALA affiliates will continue to promote the vulgarization and sexualization of children - or even better in their view - the homosexualization.
…

Future librarians and English teachers are trained to promote, select, acquire, use and defend smutty books by their college professors, who are even more leftist and social marxist than average college professors, who in turn are more leftist and social marxist than typical Americans. These "properly thinking" and "trained" students graduate, and become English teachers and librarians and ALA and National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE) members.

This part is true. In my Children’s Lit courses they wouldn’t let us read anything but smut. And my law library has just gotten an ALA grant to develop our new “Smut: Smuttier and Smuttiest” collection.

While public school teachers and public and school librarians formerly acted as public servants, that is no longer the case. They have become public masters. Many of them, deluded in their self-perceived "professional" knowledge and importance, think they know what is best for all of society including you and your children.

Still a little bitter because we couldn’t get into library school, aren’t we?

To PABBIS it appears that the ALA is successfully running a huge racketeering or terrorist operation for the political indoctrination and moral corruption of children.

Geez. So the ALA is really Al Capone, Osama bin Laden, and Chairman Mao all wrapped up in one nasty package! Well now, this does trouble me. I mean, if it’s true, how come I’m still living in a trailer?

A very small insular group of powerful like minded leftists has control of the ALA. Just as college English and library professors are to the left of typical leftist college professors, the ALA leadership is to the left of a typical leftist ALA member. ALA leadership is a small group of very (usually aging) leftist, social marxist, pro-sexualization, pro-homosexualization, pro-atheist, pro-"multi-culturalism", pro-"world government", pro-world tax, anti (especially Christian) religion, pro-porn, America bashing, America blaming people. All, repeat all, are way to the left of middle America.

Hey – now that’s really hitting below the belt. I’m not old!

Oh, well. I just hope someday one of my books ends up on PABBIS’ list of bad books. To be among that distinguished group would indeed be an honor.

I realize that by publishing this blog entry – and by including key phrases like PABBIS, Parents Against Bad Books in Schools, PABBIS, and PABBIS, I may come to this group’s attention. Well, you know what they say about publicity.

PABBIS, honey, get a life already. Just keep it out of my face.