Spicy Vanilla Ice Cream

Tonight Devon and I actually had some time. When you have no time at all for weeks and suddenly you have some, the first thing you think is, “What is this thing I have on my hands? Why, it’s time! Neat.” Then you think, “Dear God, what will I do with myself?”

The answer, of course, is drink!
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Oh, Amy

Amy Winehouse is a pretty recent discovery of mine, although I think I’m fairly slow on the uptake; apparently Rehab has been enjoying pretty heavy airplay of late. For those of you who may still be unfamiliar with her, think updated Motown with a marvelous low, brassy voice. I’m hooked — I think you will be, too.

I’m deliberately including a live video because I believe the ability to perform live is a dying art in this age of digital plastic surgery. That and I’m always more in favor of stripped-down, unplugged performances; I’m terribly impressed with her vibrant sound despite the horrendous acoustic. Love this voice, love this artist.

EDIT: Another reason to love Amy Winehouse: here she is completely shitfaced attempting to seeing Michael Jackson’s Beat It on the premiere of Charlotte Church’s talk show. Hilarious.

WWBD?

Beth Ditto, lead singer of The Gossip, is seriously one of my favorite people in the world. And she has her own column now! Drop everything and go.

Why I Belong To the ACLU

The Wiccan pentacle has just been added to the surprisingly long list of religious symbols the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs permits on gravestones. I say “surprisingly” out of my own cynicism, as I feel the state of religious acceptance in our society today is abysmal. Many of my fellow congregants practice Wicca as well as various other Pagan faiths, and thus I’ve become acquainted first-hand with the frustration that arises from taking part in a religion so deeply misunderstood and reviled by the general public. And I’m sure any Muslims out there would agree with that. Nevertheless, the knowledge that our country recognizes such a wide variety of religions so publicly brings me a renewed sense of confidence that our government’s capacity for recognizing civil liberties is not completely disabled.

Please take a peek at the article on CNN.com as well as the accompanying video.

The Price of Being Neighborly

Some people are born cynical, and others have cynicism thrust upon them. I belong to the latter group.

On April Fool’s Day, my neighbor’s father backed into my car and drove off, despite being aware of two witnesses who happened to be walking their dog at the time. I handed my cell phone to his son (who once keyed my parents’ minivan, I might add) and told him to call him up and get up to come back around. He did eventually show up, and when he did, apologized profusely and requested that everything be handled off the insurance in order to keep his rates from going up. But not before asserting that he was unaware that he had even hit my car, noting that the dent was so large because Japanese cars are made of tin (Note: he drives a Toyota as well), failing to note the more obvious reason that metal tends to crumple upon impact with a larger object. Jackass.
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The Name Game

Certain things kind make me want to cry. Obviously, the fact that George W. Bush and Dick Cheney will have spent eight years in the White House is one of them. But sometimes it’s the little things that make me weep inside.
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Faith In Action

The National Day of Prayer is on May 3rd, and Atheist Volunteers are spearheading an alternative campaign; whether theist, pagan, or otherwise, I encourage you to get behind this.



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I’ve Been Waiting For This

I really couldn’t care less about Sanjaya Malakar, let alone American Idol as a whole, but I was wondering when the gossip rags — or People in this particular case — would start going after him regarding his sexuality. Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, it has officially begun:

I’ve always gotten along with girls better because I was raised by women. I got teased in school because people figured I must be gay because I understand women. I think that’s why guys didn’t like me - because I got along with girls so well. When I went up to girls they would give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek like I was their gay friend. But I was the straight guy that understood them.

Ah, the bittersweet refrain of nostalgia. I used to say those exact words, and save for the “straight” part, they were true. After attending the Björk concert at the Red Rocks, my pet phrase became “I was the only straight guy there!” It was my comfort, my reassurance. And like you, Sanjaya, I had many female friends in high school who turned to me for advice on various matters — of course, being the flute section leader in the marching band helped out with that quite a bit. Want to know why you understand women so well? You’re both attracted to dudes! Saddle up, tiger — it’s never going to stop. Do yourself a favor and learn a lesson from Clay Aiken: denying it repeatedly despite mounting evidence to the contrary only fuels the speculation and heightens the attention on the matter. An appetite for pussy does not a true man make; you will soon come to this realization and all of a sudden the constant need for rationalizations will stop.

But Perez, if you’re reading this, as much as I agree with you — call off your dogs. He’s 17! A kid who’s out at that age is quite remarkable; just think how much more difficult the circumstances are for someone that young who is, at least for the moment, the focus of oppressively heavy media attention. The more he’s badgered about his sexuality, the more vehement his denials will be come and thus the deeper he will climb in the closet. We all know he’s gay; give him time to make peace with himself. We all had to go through this process, and as a gay man yourself it is imperative that you exercise some measure of compassion.

But once he hits his mid-20’s, he’s fair game. I mean it. Anyone who’s not out by then needs to be, for the good of his or her soul and the world. In the meantime, Sanjaya, hie thee to Seattle, where the alcohol (and ensuing same-sex experimentation) flows like water. This too shall pass, and when it does, you’ll be receiving the Vanguard Award in no time.

Provided, of course, that you refrain from Gayken’s brand of latently-Christian homophobic remarks. Then you’re dead to us.

Better Late Than Never, I Suppose

Consider, if you will, the origin of the following quote:

Adkinson’s sister, Mindy Bryan, attended a segregated prom in 2001.

“There was not anybody that I can remember that was black,” she said. “The white people have theirs, and the black people have theirs. It’s nothing racial at all.”

An article from the Onion, perhaps? Maybe even a witty non sequitur from Bill Maher or Margaret Cho? Not so much. Had this been excerpted from a piece of satirical journalism I would have laughed my ass off, but the fact that the speaker was deadly serious absolutely scares the crap out of me. Just call me naive for thinking that segregation was the thing for the history books; leave it to South Georgia to keep our good old-fashioned traditional American values alive. Boy, just wait for when the women’s liberation movement hits Turner County. That’ll sure be something, won’t it? Anyone want to help me put together care packages of Ortho Tri-Cyclen and the collected works of Betty Friedan just to speed up the process?

Ever wanted to know who on earth still thinks Saddam Hussein was behind 9/11? These people. Consider the source and shudder.

Hummmm…

This is what happens when I have a night off and Bil does too:
Ooops Hummm…
That is all.

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