Dancing with Myself

He took the words right out of my mouth.

"We have before us in the White House a thief who steals the country's good name and reputation for his private interest and personal use; a liar who seeks to instill in the American people a state of fear; a televangelist who engages the United States in a never-ending crusade against all the world's evil, a wastrel who squanders a vast sum of the nation's wealth on what turns out to be a recruiting drive certain to multiply the host of our enemies. In a word, a criminal—known to be armed and shown to be dangerous." - Lewis H. Lapham, The Case for Impeachment, Harpers Magazine, March 2006

Political Quiz

How do you tell a crook from a Republican?

I don't know, I was hoping you'd tell me.

What the Fuck?!

Pardon my French, but I was just watching the CBS Evening News, a rare pleasure (?), since I don't usually get home until six.  The story was about the failure of the Senate to pass meaningful rules of ethics which was segued into from Abramoff's sentencing segment. 

To whom do you think CBS turned to explain what the Republican controlled Senate did?  None other than our favorite worm, John McCain.  Were there no other voices available to explain to us what happened in the Senate?  I don't know about you, but McCain has no moral authority with me.  The man has no balls.  He traded them in to Karl Rove's promise not to oppose him as long as he didn't run against the President.  Okay, maybe not Rove, but somebody knows that somebody promised somebody else something.  You figure it out and tell me.  Meanwhile,

I've noticed that a lot this past week or so.  Main Stream Media (MSM) seems to have anointed McCain as the Heir Apparent.  Bullshit.  McCain isn't qualified to be a fucking dog catcher.  Once you sell your soul to the devil, you can no longer claim any sort of moral authority.  Why is CBS doing this?  What other networks are doing this?  What can we do about it?

What does the war in Iraq cost us?

We've run out of crumbs for our elderly poor.

If you know any Republicans, be sure to mention it to them.

Church Stuff

By religious affiliation I'm an Episcopalian.  I was not raised in that church, but chose it for all of the silly reasons one uses when he's not quite ready to give up the cultural and social comfort of an old pattern of behavior.  Regardless of how I got there, I've been there for about 40 years.  Up until my move to Oakland six years ago, I was affiliated at Grace Cathedral in San Francisco.  Since moving to Oakland, I haven't been to services more than three or four times.  I've become one of those high holy day Christians. 

The American Episcopal Church is an ecclesiastical church.  We have a structured hierarchy of sorts.  We divide ourselves along national political lines, so there is a Canadian church, an American church, a Ugandan church, etc.  Within the national boundary, we are divided into regional groupings that pretty much follow state lines.  Within state lines our political subdivision is called a diocese.  Each diocese is headed by a bishop.  All bishops are equal with the understanding that as with all things earthly, some are more equal than others.  With the Episcopal Church, as with retail, it's location, location, location.  I live in a very high profile diocese, the diocese of California, which is really San Francisco and the surrounding counties.  There are altogether six dioceses in California.  Ours is important because of the dynamism of San Francisco.  There are no special privileges accompanying that, just a larger audience.

Our bishop, the right reverend William E. Swing, is retiring.  He became our bishop in 1980, just as I moved back to San Francisco from my adventures.  I clashed with him early over what I thought should be the church's roll in the lives of witnessing Christians who happened to be Gay and Lesbian.  We did not see eye-to-eye on this and several other subjects. 

He grew into his position.  If you have a few minutes, here he's interviewed by Alan Jones, the dean of Grace Cathedral.  He provided very strong and courageous leadership during a spiritually troubling time.  The two greatest challenges to his episcopacy have been AIDS and homelessness.  On both counts, he has been a good pastor.  We shall miss him.

Now for the tough part.  We get to elect his successor.  There are seven candidates.  One is a Lesbian, another two are Gay.  A huge majority of the bishops of the worldwide Episcopal Church are horrified at the prospect of our choosing another Gay bishop.  They have gone so far as to threaten us if we do.  We are already experiencing schism.

We won't elect someone just because she's a Lesbian or just because he's Gay.  Neither will we shy from it.  I join most of my co-religious this Lenten season in reflection.  Where is our church going?  This is a conversation best between friends and not adversaries, but it is not we who have threatened to break away from the communion.

This schism is not just about Gay priests.  It's also a delayed reaction to women being ordained as priests.  There are some bishops who won't ordain women.   When the conservatives finally do divorce us with their schism, watch how few women, if any, will be allowed to be priests.  It's not just Gays they hate.

My first chance to meet the candidates will be about April 23 or 24.  I'm looking forward to it.  Here are the candidates:

The Rt. Rev. Mark Handley Andrus, Bishop Suffragan in the Diocese of Alabama;

The Rev. Jane Gould, Rector of St. Stephen's Church, Lynn, Massachusetts;

The Rev. Bonnie Perry, D.Min., Rector of All Saints' Church, Chicago, Illinois;

The Rev. Canon Eugene Taylor Sutton, Canon Pastor of Washington National Cathedral;

The Very Rev. Robert V. Taylor, Dean, St. Mark's Cathedral, Seattle, Washington.

The Rev. Canon Michael Barlowe, Officer for Congregational Development, The Diocese of California,

The Rev. Donald Schell, Co-rector of St. Gregory of Nyssa Episcopal Church, San Francisco.

These five men and two women represent the very best of the leadership of our church.  We are very fortunate to have as rich as selection as we do. 

Finding Religion

Mary Karr, author of Liar's Club and Cherry, talks about her religion in a conversation with David Ian Miller in Monday's San Francisco Chronicle.  It makes for very interesting reading.

Mary's story is a good one.  She's from Pt. Neches, Texas (I think).  Her bio just says nitty-gritty East Texas industrial town near Pt. Arthur.  I'm from across the river (the Neches River) from another nitty-gritty East Texas industrial town called Vidor.  She was born in 1965, the year I started college.  While I did not know Mary or her parents, I probably knew their prototypes.  But for circumstance, I could have been one of her parents. 

Her spiritual journey began as she sought to deal with her alcoholism. She was told by her sponsor to pray daily, and while she didn't believe in god or prayer, she prayed anyway.  After 90 days of being sober and praying without belief, her sponsor told her to go to the next level and develop a relationship with whatever higher power she had turned to in prayer, or something like that.

Her journey led her to Roman Catholicism.  I can't speak to her reasons for converting.  I can discern from her comments and practices, that she has a very intellectual relationship with god.  Hers is no simple peasant Catholicism.  She speaks in the humble voice of a survivor who knows that she is not the author of her salvation, just lucky.  That luck she calls grace.

Say it Ain't So

Crystal's blog is going on sabbatical.  If you haven't visited Crystal, go over right now and experience Midnight Therapy With Crystal: And So I Shall!.  She is one of the wisest, funniest, prettiest, pilgrims I have met in my life.  I've known her less than a month, but have been profoundly touched by her spirituality.  I haven't met her yet I know she'll be in my life for years to come. 

Fortunately for us, she's left her favorite videos for us to get our Crystal fix for the next year while she finishes her book.  Godspeed, sister.  Let me know if there's anything I can do for you.

Feels Like Home to Me

Life is sweet.  The five days in Palm Springs passed much too quickly.  Mornings were spent laying by the pool, having coffee with a nice cross-section of Gay men from around the country.  We Gay fellows are a varied lot.  Our morning group consisted of a judge, business consultants, a dean from a midwestern college, and even an interior designer or two, and a lawyer for an odd-ball federal agency who was a White House lawyer from late in Clinton's term to the first part of Dubya's.  (I didn't know that many of the White House lawyers are not political appointees.) 

Afternoons were even lazier than the mornings.  The biggest difference between afternoons and mornings was in the mornings we lay next to the pool, and in the afternoon we lay in the pool. 

I would have blogged, but the hotel didn't have wireless internet.  Cheap bastards.  I studiously avoided reading newspapers, and I refused to watch the news on the television.  By chance I happened to see Helen Thomas ask Dubya to confess and tell us the real reason for invading Iraq.  The President spouted slogans but didn't really say anything.  Sort of like he always does.  What a fucking loser.

I went by Brother Brent's blog, but he hasn't posted his response to my post.  First though, I went back and read what I had to say that night.  I don't think I was too hard on the poor boy.  He's real smart, so he doesn't get a pass when he says something stupid.  I welcome him and his friends as they stop by to see and read my latest diatribe against either Brent or other Christians.  They may learn something, bless their hearts.  A warning to them though:  Natalie's comments were rude and vulgar.  Her comment spoke more of her than it did of me.  I leave it up as an example of what not to do.  It's probably the reason we haven't heard back from Brent.  Don't worry Brent.  I have cousins who are just as simple as Natalie and ever bit as passionate.  It reflects on you in a positive way.

To all who joined in the conversation, let me say thank you.  Most of my commenters were fellow Christians, and that is exactly the point I wanted to make to Brent.  There's a lot of room in our religion for differing views.  What is not alright is that one interpretation feel itself righteous enough to deprive others of basic human rights.

I'm not too hot on religion.  I don't believe in a Sky Fairy.  I do not think God has white hair and sits on a throne, although that's pretty much how the Sky Fairy was described to me as a child.  I don't believe /s/he's a he, and I think /s/he has to be far too busy to have a book where /s/he writes down everything that happens in the lives of six billion people.  Nobody's that anal, not even god.

I am, however, a Christian.  I believe in Jesus Christ who understood that we were all the sons and daughters of the creation and taught us a simple method of enlightenment that was at once true to Jewish tradition and simple buddhism.  We are at once one with all that has ever been or will ever be.  Only the ego creates separateness. 

When Jesus preached, he was not preaching about how to be good to get to the next world.  THIS was the world.  "The Kingdom of God is at hand," he said.  I assume he said that.  The provenance of THE BIBLE would not hold up in any court in any country as proof of ownership.  Yet these fundamentalist fools think it is literal.  Brent knows better than that.  In his one post left, some commenter asks very cleverly about how he justifies the Old Testament prohibitions.  His answer was clever.  He's been trained, and he took the lesson to heart. 

Monkeys are trained, Brent.  Once again, I challenge you to explain to me how my church's blessings on me and my partner who happens to be of the same sex as am I devalues your relationship with your partner of choice.  Tell me how my standing in front of the priest at my 150-year-old cathedral and declaring to him and my congregation that this is indeed by beloved, my bethothed, my life's blood is not the proper thing to do to honor my the partner of my choice.  God has not brought me this far in order to leave me in the wilderness.

Jesus taught us how to be fulfilled, spiritual beings.  He wasn't teaching us how to get to heaven, he was trying to teach us how to be spiritually real.  I have no idea about the details of his birth or death.  To me they are immaterial.  What is material is that he taught us to be more than we are.  We are told to love one another.  We are told not to judge.  We are told to honor our  marital commitments.  We are told to bless our children.  Jesus wasn't teaching us how to get to heaven, he was trying to teach us how to be spiritually in the present.

At least that's my opinion.  In holding onto my opinion, I do not seek to marginalize others who may not agree with me. 

This is Lent.  My church expects us to reflect on our lives and our relationship with others.  We use the word god a lot, but we're not heavily into the "god" thing.  We're more into the "Jesus" thing:  what he preached.  We acknowledge that Jesus died.  We also acknowledge that his words rose from his dead body and gained great power in the world.  It's phrased a little differently in the Apostle's Creed.

What is sin?  Sin is something that keeps you from experiencing the connection to god in your life. For me, having sex outside of my commitment keeps me from feeling spiritually connected.  I am "in sin" if I have sex with someone for whom I have no commitment.  Presently I am single.  What are my rules?  What are any human being's rules?  I want and need love.  I have both love to give and the willingness to receive it.  Politicized-evangelicals would deny me any expression of my humanity.

Brent, Gay men and women have been marrying each other for thousands of years.  Even in ancient Israel which you assured us did not have a problem with homosexuals, Jonathan loved David, and David loved him in return.  We homosexuals have always been, and we always will be.  What crumbs from the table of your humanity do you offer us?

Tell me and witness to me and my friends here, what crumbs from the table of your humanity would you offer us?  Pretend you're Jesus for a moment and preach to me, but don't forget: I, too, know the voice of Jesus in my life. 

Brent, sugah, I'm as Gay as a goose.  I don't need to ask god for anything, not one fucking thing.  Why?  Because I'm too busy giving thanks.  This is the one time I'm going to preach to you, so pay attention or not, but here it is.  Stop fixating on homosexuality and learn to love yourself, your partner, your children, your family.  And if you have any love left over when you've finished with them, love humanity itself.  But Brent, sugah, I'm not asking for your approval or your blessing on my being for whom I am.  I am who I am.  Oh my God, I just figured it out.  Yahweh:  I am who I am.  The god Jesus wanted us to pay attention to was the one within ourselves.  Like, that is SO heavy.

Natalie, sugah, thanks for praying for me.  I'm hoping that when you ask god to save me that it neutralizes that image of me being tossed into flames that you see in your overly stimulated imagination. 

I'm just saying, that's all.

 

 

Road Trip Update

We're having more fun than a barrell of monkeys. At the moment, Honey's getting laid, and I'm at Starbucks sucking down a mocha frappaccino, but I'm looking good doing it with my new, fabulous suntan.

It took me 9 hours and 45 minutes to drive here on Friday. That's about 3 hours longer than it should in a perfect world. A perfect world is one where you can get to Palm Springs from the bay area without driving through the L.A. basin. It took me 3 hours and 45 minutes to get from the 210 cutoff from I5. And it rained the entire trip. Hot tubs are nice after a ten-hour trip. Eh?

I notice our boy Brent has visited and left a calling card. I'll visit him back when I get home sometime later in the week. It appears someone claiming to be his cousin also left her calling card, albeit in an angry, semi-literate way. I'm sure she means well, bless her heart.

Somebody save me a place because I'll be right back.

Road Trip!

I'm off to Palm Springs tomorrow to meet up with Honey from Vancouver.  That's Honey behind those Gucci sunglasses.

Is he cute or what?  We met in Puerto Vallarta about eight or nine years ago.  He's the one I meet in Calgary for the Gay rodeo.  I'm driving Boudreaux the Cadillac down for the last time.  It gets sold when I return.  I haven't decided on how I'm going to replace it.  Whatever I drive has to have a certain element of style.  I'll worry about that this summer.

I'll be partying a lot in P.S., but I'll also blog some.  Let the fun begin.

BuhBye.