Posts Tagged ‘social causes’

Is the god debate worth it?

February 19, 2012

Every time I’ve ever talked to a devout Christian about their faith, I get a strange sensation that I’m just talking to myself. I give some argument, they quote the Bible, and at some point I often just want to shake them and say “But don’t you see that doesn’t make any sense!?”
I can’t help but wonder if the debate on the existence of god is purely futile. I mean, for most religious people, when asked, they will tell you very proudly that there is nothing that you could tell them to make them change their minds.
In its most basic form, these beliefs just are not the end result of logical analysis. It’s revelation. How do you refute revelation? Not sure… more revelation? Honestly, what logical argument could be presented to a person who doesn’t presume to use logic as the basis for their beliefs and overall understanding of the world around them.
But then I realized something very simple and close to home. I used to believe in god unquestioningly. I used to be the person who would proudly declare that there was nothing I could be told that would change my mind, and look at me now. So what happened?
It should first be pointed out that you don’t change anyone’s mind in real time. If you do, you just witnessed a miracle, or the person really was on the fence and was tipping your direction at that. So don’t expect to change anyone’s mind during the conversation. What you can do though is plant tiny seeds of doubt with those you have contact. Let them make up their own mind, but give them some facts to work with. Because for as adamant as someone may be about having nothing that will change their minds about their faith, we are creatures who thrive in part on logic. It’s an element of how we learn things. If I present an argument that makes enough sense, it will lodge itself in your brain until such a time as it’s refuted, provided it’s a topic you find of interest. It’s those seeds of doubt, but more accurately, those seeds of knowledge, that do the real work. It just takes time for them to grow.
Religion, and Christianity specifically, has a well-oiled defense mechanism against logical proof of its invalidity. Because of this, even the most astounding evidence presented that would raise serious doubts about the claims of Christianity will be completely disregarded by many Christians. And it’s very simple: it’s the devil. Doubt is from the devil. Anything that appears contrary to the praise of god is the work of the devil. This, naturally, is ridiculous, but I can only say that because I no longer have belief that it is true. For those who believe in god, and who consequentially also believe in the devil, this makes perfect sense. The trouble is that this argument is completely unfalsifiable, which has for a long time been acknowledged to be the sign of a weak argument, not a strong one. But since the only retort to this argument is “No, it’s not the devil,” there’s nothing a skeptic can tell a believer to move beyond it. The conversation, for all intents and purposes, has ended.
Given such a road block (which is why I often feel like I’m just talking to myself in these conversations), how do you overcome it. I would simply posit that you don’t. Anyone who feels content in accepting the devil as the logical source of doubt in their life is not seeking greater knowledge and understanding of the world. They are mentally incurious, but more importantly, they do not want to gain any other knowledge of the world for fear that it might contradict what they already “know.” There’s no known cure to mental incuriosity, but fear is volatile. It’s shaky. This emotion could wane enough to allow ones mind enough time to entertain some thoughts contrary to their beliefs. If fear is the primary reason for using this argument, then the seeds of doubt planted via logical argument stand a chance at growing. Christians will openly profess a fear of god, so let’s hope that there are more of the devout motivated by fear than by the other option, which is something that I would call a mental deficiency.
Of course, this still doesn’t explain why a skeptic should go through all this trouble to change someone’s mind about something, but that will be a topic for another piece.

What if you’re wrong?

February 10, 2012

Lately, it’s been a minor preoccupation of mine to write about my apostasy from the Christian faith. Blame it on the positive feedback I’ve received on previous pieces that keeps me coming back to this topic. I’ve inadvertently uncovered a hidden sect of unbelievers in the small, northern Minnesota town where I work for the local newspaper, who prior to reading my columns that are critical of faith were under the impression that they were the only ones who felt that way about religion. So after receiving a certain number of emails and phone calls from fellow non-believers who are so thankful for my public confessions, and how what I’ve written so far has given hope for the future of reason, how could I stop? Fairly high praise for a small-town newspaper reporter, wouldn’t you say?
Yet, of course, there are the detractors. Most people aren’t exactly tickled to have their most cherished beliefs criticized anywhere, but especially not in a public forum. But this is Minnesota, baby! The general populace is far too polite to come out with the pitchforks and torches simply because the basis of their entire existence was insulted. No, they’ll stew in their own hatred, unwilling to let their neighbors witness their potential emotional instability, and eventually they’ll cap said feelings toward these ideas, forgive and forget, and move on, just in time to pull the hotdish out of the oven for dinner. Instead of the public lynching one could expect in other regions, here there’s the obligatory letter to the editor or two that file in, and most recently, a small litany of individuals who insist on praying for me (see “What I hear when told ‘I’ll pray for you’”).
Also recently was a visit from a local preacher, who one would expect is also praying for me. We met for coffee and discussed why it was I had renounced my former faith. Unsurprisingly, it eventually came up: what if you’re wrong? He was clever in the way he phrased the question, but it all comes out the same in the end. What are you going to do, an unbeliever in god, the creator of all things on heaven and earth, when you die and have to face your maker at the pearly gates?
In all honesty, I’m a little bit surprised that I haven’t been asked this question more often. It’s a common fear of the faithful, to leave the comfort of the church for whatever reason they may have and to ultimately find out when death’s winged chariot draws near their bedside that they had made the wrong choice, and that whatever benefits they received in life in no way balance to the tortures that await them as a member of the damned. I know I feared this as a Christian. And I know many of my fellow Christians from my former congregation felt the same. But it’s funny how no longer believing that hell exists can change your mind about having such fears.
The Bible, for all the clarity it generally lacks, is more or less straight-forward when it comes to who is going to hell. Blasphemers, of all stripes, are condemned, and from that point there are various denominations who widen the gulf to various degrees in regards to who else they feel are going to the lake of fire. So as one who openly renounced the savior of the world, not to mention the creator of the universe, I am therefore a more than worthy candidate for eternal suffering. Does this not worry me? Really, what if I’m wrong?
The question is most widely known as Pascal’s Wager. Blaise Pascal was a 17th century French mathematician who, in regards to the question of the existence of god, looked at the problem not ontologically or cosmologically, but instead prudentially.
“Let us weigh the gain and the loss in wagering that God is… If you gain, you gain all; if you lose, you lose nothing. Wager, then, without hesitation that He is.”
It’s this line of reasoning that — if it doesn’t bring people to the faith — keeps people from leaving the faith. The converse would be that you wager that God isn’t, wherein if you lose, you lose everything.
Authors and thinkers on this matter have been quite eloquent before me. So let us first consult with Bertrand Russell, who said that upon meeting god would very succinctly state, “But sir, you didn’t give us enough evidence!” Taking it a bit further, and certainly more aggressive, would be none other than Christopher Hitchens, who first off refers to the wager as “religious hucksterism of cheapest, vulgarist, nastiest kind it is possible to imagine.” At the root, it has nothing to do with piety, let alone morality, and only hopes to win favors because it can, not because it’s right or earned. Even the religious should be insulted by such suggestions that the omnipotent creator of all things could be so easily connived as to allow the individual into heaven who on his lips said he believed but in his heart felt content that his bet was simply safe.
Hitchens went on, contributing further to what Russell would say when face to face with god, with, “Look, Boss, if it’s true what they say about you, that you’re an infinitely kind and forgiving and all-fatherly person – this is certainly what your fans keep saying – do you not have a little room in your obviously very capacious heart for someone who just couldn’t bring himself to believe in you, and really, honestly, truly couldn’t, as opposed to someone who spent half their life on their knees making fawning professions of faith because Pascal told them it was a good bet? Which of us is the more moral? Which of us is the more honest? Which of us is the more courageous? Which of us has the bluest eyes and is the most sexually attractive? Which of us has the real charisma here? I’m only asking.”
As poignant of answers to Pascal as both Hitchens and Russell have offered, they still don’t address the central point of the argument, that being that, assuming god is one who is easily given in to those who simply claim faith, one can gain all with a proper wager. For this, we’ll turn to neuroscientist Sam Harris, who once noted that, given the vast number of gods that have been worshipped and religions that have been adhered to over the centuries, and the incompatible claims made by each, that we should all expect to go to hell simply by probability. Pascal’s Wager, after all, makes the assumption that Yahweh is the one and only god, and that Christianity is the one and only system of belief. What if in fact the Muslims have had it right this whole time? Or the Jews? Or the Pagans? Or maybe it’s the Catholics who’ve been on the right path, and you happen to be Baptist, or vice-versa?
If it isn’t obvious by this point that the question of ‘What if you’re wrong?’ is a ridiculous question, then by all means it’s important that you as a person must go forth and believe the next theological claim given to you, because the possibility exists that it just may be correct.
The fear of the ultimate unknowable, what happens after our bodily death, won’t go away with the presence of a logic that further illustrates that we can’t know based on the laws of probability. Regardless, I think it’s important to ask ourselves is it not possible that we are simply not satisfied with the obvious answer of what happens to us when we die, that being that we cease to exist and our bodies decay to feed the next generation of life on the planet, and that this dissatisfaction has been mistaken for being insufficient?

The Relationship Vote

May 19, 2011
This piece was originally published in the Grand Rapids Herald-Review
I’ve always thought that our constitution was supposed to enshrine our rights as citizens of this state and this country. So when I heard that the Minnesota Legislature was attempting to pass a bill that would put marriage rights of gay and lesbian couples up to a vote during the 2012 election, effectively making a constitutional amendment prohibiting same-sex marriage, I thought that was pretty strange. More specifically, I thought it was outrageous!

First of all, and I see this as something that is very difficult to argue with, it is an incredible waste of time. As it currently stands, same-sex marriage is not legal in the state of Minnesota. The legislative session ends before Memorial Day weekend, and there is still a $5 billion deficit that needs dealing with, but instead the Senate and House are wasting their time debating and having public hearings on whether or not something that is currently illegal should be REALLY illegal.

What’s more unfortunate is that, regardless of the precedent of 28 other states passing similar constitutional amendments, our governing bodies would actively pursue the wanton discrimination of a large percentage of the population of the state, not to mention a member of the State Senate itself.

During the Senate hearing on the bill, Senator Scott Dibble held up a picture of he and his husband on the floor of the Senate on the first day of session, and he asked “What’s so different about us? What’s so dangerous about us?”

Same-sex marriage is allowed in five states in this country. So the question has to be; how has this negatively impacted states such as Massachusetts and Iowa?

But above I disregarded the 28 states that have passed similar amendments, so let’s just never mind what other states are doing. With that in mind, I would ask; how will this bill help Minnesota families?

Will it help create jobs? Will it balance the budget? Will it curb bullying in schools? The answer to those first two questions is ‘no’. There is no data that suggests that making something that’s already against the law against the law forever will have any sort of change on matters it didn’t affect anyway. But how about bullying? Anyone who isn’t aware of the high number of gay and lesbian teens who have committed suicide because of the negative ways they’ve been treated simply because they are gay (and others who were simply perceived to be gay), is either in denial or has been hiding under a rock. So honestly, what do you think this amendment is going to say to the next generation?

Senator Warren Limmer, the author of this bill, has said that the people of Minnesota have a right to vote on this issue, and that with a year and a half between now and the election, they will have the opportunity to have a conversation about it. I personally think Senator Dibble responded to this best, so I’ll just quote him:

“We’re not going to have a conversation. We’re going to have an ugly, angry, divisive campaign… And you know what that campaign is going to look like? It’s going to be about creating disinformation, about half-truths and mis-truths, and complete outright lies about what my family is all about… It’s going to create conjecture, fear, and will divide Minnesotans during this critical time in our economy when we need to be pulling people together.”

The proponents of this bill are quick to say that the people have a right to vote on their definition of marriage. First of all, I call bologna on that. There’s no choice here. The percentage of Minnesotans who think that marriage should be inclusive to all consenting adults have no box to check. The options are simply the status quo or the status quo forever. And that is beside the point that this argument is discrimination disguised as liberty. Limmer and the other proponents of this bill talk about the rights of the people to decide, but they’re deciding on the rights of others. So what about the rights of those whose personal lives are infringed with this vote? If this isn’t making sense, imagine if your marriage or your relationship with your significant other was put up to a vote by those who don’t even know you?

Our country has a history of bigotry against various types of couples, whether they be Lutherans and Catholics marrying, or whites and blacks marrying. It wasn’t that long ago that it was illegal for a black man to marry a white woman in a large number of states in this country. And people were just as adamant about that concept as they are today about same-sex marriage. So what has changed? We’ve simply picked a new group to look down upon; a new group on which to attempt to deny rights.

The argument for same-sex marriage isn’t anything new or bizarre. It is simply asking that consenting adults, who would be allowed to marry someone of the opposite sex, be allowed to marry someone of the same sex, because they found a special person that they want to spend the rest of their lives with. No one is looking for extra rights. Just the same rights as anyone else who found that person who completes them, who will stick with them through good times and bad.

As of this writing, the House has yet to vote on the bill. By all speculations, it seems as if it is going to pass. I hope it doesn’t. I think it would be a shameful mark on the state’s history; a state that has a long history of compassion and inclusiveness. And the ensuing “conversation” will only create more hate and discrimination, because our government has decided that this particular group of Minnesotans aren’t deserving of equality.

My Political Life

September 12, 2010

I called upon the Democrats.

I called upon the Republicans.

I called upon the Greens and the Independents.

I called upon the fuckin’ Tea Party.

I called upon Americans who wave a flag out of habit.

I called upon men and women so I would seem more inclusive.

I called upon the corrupt, who ate their own souls.

I called upon the corrupt, who tried to buy my neighbors soul for dessert, and got a good deal.

I called upon blacks and Hispanics whose culture I co-opted without credit, but ignored this fact and wondered why they didn’t respect me.

I didn’t call upon the Native Americans.

I called upon Democrats and their followers who couldn’t recognize righteousness.

I called upon Republicans and their followers who manufactured and sold righteousness in easy to store containers.

I called upon those whose righteousness judged me.

I called upon the hypocrite who actually lives in all of us (so don’t pretend).

I called upon liberals, conservatives, and whatever you call people in the center, and I forgot what the definitions of each were.

I called upon the gay and straight, and waited.

I called upon the Christian and Muslim who secretly wanted to kill each other who then just came right out and said it because it was never actually a secret.

I called upon those who complain about life’s inequities with a passion.

I called upon life’s inequities.

I called upon those who wish for change.

I called upon the ones who pretend to see change in the same box they’ve always lived in.

I called upon the Asians whom we deny are a superpower, then denied their influence.

I called upon the socialists and communists, who are evil, but I called them anyway.

I called upon the fascists who no longer use that name.

I called upon the system that perpetuates itself.

I called upon the system that we hope to change but don’t understand.

I called upon the system that won’t change.

I called upon myself, but ignored the call.

I called upon myself and hung up, thinking it was a prank.

I called upon the Independents again and laughed at the strange name.

I called upon the angry, then got exhausted.

I called upon the exhausted, then got angry.

I called upon those who call to battle and left a message.

I called upon the rest of the religious, who called back the next day wondering if I had accepted Jesus Christ, Mohammad, Buddha, Shiva, Lord Xenu, or whoever as my personal savior and completely ignored what I had asked.

I called upon deaf ears and finally got an appropriate response.

Where Have All the Artists Gone?

May 14, 2010

I read an essay the other day that posed the question “Why aren’t more poets politically involved?” So I said, “Yeah, why aren’t they?”

This reminded me of a time back in 2004 when I was still a student at the University of Minnesota and I went to a reading by Robert Bly, who shortly thereafter was named Poet Laureate of Minnesota. Bly has a long history of political engagement, most notably as a conscientious objector to the war in Vietnam (to note it lightly). Between poems, he was quick to wonder out loud to the audience the same question as the essay I mentioned.

Where are the poets writing grand verse in opposition to the war? During the 1960s, you couldn’t throw a rock without hitting at least one! (Paraphrased, not actually what he said.)

And you know, he was right. First of all, he was there during the ‘60s, so he certainly knew well enough what was going on. But today, there’s an awful lot of silence. There has been for most of the years the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have been going on.

And of course, it’s not just poets. It’s artists of all mediums and genres. And whereas there has certainly been dissent against the war, not nearly to the scale that was seen against Vietnam.

I see this as a problem, and not just because I’m not for the wars. Have we become so complacent with the world we’ve developed around ourselves that we can’t see beyond our noses to what’s happening in our name both at home and abroad? I see this as more than just dissent. I see it as conscious involvement in something greater than one’s self. And that goes for whether you’re for or against the wars; whether or not you feel they’re just.

So my point is basically this: There seems to be fewer people nowadays who stand up and make their case for a cause they feel is worthy by using art.

I see two reasons for this.

One: Poetry and other forms of art have slowly taken a back seat to other forms of media that are far more accessible in the modern age of telecommunications.

And two: It only ‘seems’ that there’s silence.

I know for a fact there is no shortage of artists in this country who take notice of various political action by our government and compose pieces appropriate to their outrage. But unless you’re part of one of these inner art circles, you’re not very likely to hear about it (see reason ‘one’ above). But that doesn’t mean that Bly or the author of the essay I read yesterday are completely wrong with their assertions that there’s a lack of political involvement amongst artists today. For better or for worse, the art culture evolves to represent the modern culture. As it turns out, the ‘60s were a time of heavy popular political involvement, therefore it was represented in the art scene. Today, it’s less so.

But there has been a resurgence.

Over the last few national elections, there have been record numbers of people, especially youth, who are making it to the polls to cast their vote. The same modern means of telecommunication that has been squashing art forms in the national popularity contest has created a new informed population, and many don’t like what they’ve seen. If the numbers at the voting booths are any indication of political involvement, then there are plenty of people who want to stand up and make a case for their cause.

So what’s the problem? Did I just refute the original argument?

Not really. The point still stands that there’s not much political poetry out there that gets any attention out of specific circles. As a poet and writer, I’m a bit saddened by this. I have read a number of fantastic contemporary poems having to do with modern political issues (the wars, etc…), but people don’t take them as accessible, so they get drowned out in the flood of information we all get daily.

Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe not. Either way, it’s the evolution of things. Maybe I’ll just go watch a movie instead.

Journals of a Job Junky

March 18, 2010

Employment is the topic gracing many lips all across the country this year, but it’s nothing new to me. For some undiagnosed reason, I’ve found myself the owner of many different jobs throughout my life, with all of them ending for about as many reasons as you can imagine. There’s a story behind all of them, but it’s important to stay on track. So let’s just see how my life in jobs has been since I moved to Grand Rapids nearly two years ago.

After getting a degree in English Literature from the University of Minnesota, I had sampled a few different jobs around the Twin Cities, none of which were ideal, but they paid the bills. Such a degree is interesting to have. Because depending on how you look at it, you can use it for anything or for nothing. And I was rapidly using it for nothing. So when my wife suggested we move to Grand Rapids where she was offered a job at her aunt and uncle’s medical billing business, I figured why not. It was the Spring of 2008. I was 26 at the time, well educated, and changing tires at a garage. Change of scenery from Minneapolis might just be a good thing.

Once here, with my wife working, I had to figure out something to do. With my education, coupled with the luxury of having some time to experiment, it was the perfect time to try out online freelance writing! There was only one problem: we were living with my wife’s grandparents at the time, who did not have internet access. I did what I could with stray signals that occasionally swung by the computer, primarily in the hope of having some resources set up for when we moved and got a real connection. But as it turned out, I was offered a job at Mednorth, the billing service where my wife already worked. I accepted.

It really was an obvious move. Mednorth was a family run business, and I was part of the family. What’s more, I was part of the family who needed a job. It was an office of mothers, daughters, sisters, cousins, and now a son-in-law! So as my time there progressed and I had a few more responsibilities, I mostly forgot about my idea of freelancing. I mean, here I had a steady paycheck, and the work wasn’t so bad. If I found something better, I’d take it, but I wasn’t too thrilled about being back on the job hunt.

With freelancing, most jobs would be a one time deal. I would constantly be on the job hunt. That was another thing to think about.

It was around this time that my wife and I bought our first house. The time for employment experimentation was rapidly coming to a close, so we were both happy to have the jobs we did. But we knew it wasn’t the end all. Actually, I’ll rephrase: I knew it wasn’t. My wife was quite happy at Mednorth. But she knew that I wouldn’t be content with that for the rest of my life. So when we were approached to be part of an arts co-op as a used book vendor, we said, “Great!”

A long story short, we amassed a huge inventory of thousands of books, and the co-op fell apart due to lack of participation, with none of the remaining members able to afford the overhead of the rental space. But whereas the situation didn’t work out, it was certainly educational. Between the hands-on experience and with some information from the IEDC (Itasca Economic Development Corporation), I was able to learn just what was involved in starting a business. First thing I learned: it’s daunting, but it’s very possible. And so concluded my first real encounter to the world of self-employment.

I have yet to decide whether or not self-employment is what’s best for me. For the size of town Grand Rapids is, there’s certainly room for a few more small businesses. When it came to books, I looked around at the options this town of 8,000 had, and I thought to myself, “How can we lose?” Had we done things differently and actually gotten off the ground, it could’ve been a huge success.

Whereas self-employment sounds great, I’ve learned that it takes a certain type of person to make it happen (that is, make it happen successfully). Much like a career in sales, it takes great a dreamer with enormous tenacity. I’m certainly a dreamer, but my tenacity needs some work. So as of right now, that avenue is ‘to be continued…’

But where a door is shut, often a window is opened. Not long after the co-op dream fell apart, I heard that the Herald Review was looking to hire a part-time, freelance writer. This is almost exactly what I was looking for! And even though it was freelance, I wouldn’t have to be continuously looking for new jobs! I applied, and a short time later was hired, and covering my first story.

Since it was only part-time, I couldn’t afford to leave my job at Mednorth. Not with a mortgage to pay! Juggling two jobs can be problematic, as many of you know, but when one is as flexible as being a freelance writer with no office hours, it could certainly be worse. This was a fantastic time. I was finally making good use of my education. Financially, we had never been better. We owned a home, had two cats, three fish, and a smiling future. I had heard that my part-time freelance position had the possibility of becoming full-time staff.

A few months into 2009, things appeared to be less optimistic. Newspapers across the country were feeling a pitch, and the Herald Review wasn’t exempt. Due to budget cuts, I was laid off. We were still fine financially because of Mednorth, but it was a step in the opposite direction all the same. Several months later, I found some part-time work doing technical writing for a software company, but it had no future. I knew then that it was only good for a limited period of time.

And then came the big hit.

Due to personal issues, my wife and I decided to separate. Obviously, considering my work situation at Mednorth, my returning there the following week would’ve been problematic at best, since not only did my wife work there, but so did her mother and a few of her aunts. Amidst everything else, I found myself employed only with a 10 hour/week commitment to this remote software company. Recently, that too appears to have come to a close.

As of right now, I’ve managed to do some book reviews and essays for KAXE radio, a few pieces once again for the Herald Review, all financially supplemented by part-time employment as a cook at Pizza Hut. But this isn’t the end of my story. Not by a long shot.

In looking back, I realize that with the various opportunities I’ve had, things certainly could’ve been done differently. That’s what hindsight is good for; to learn from your errors. I blame myself as much as I do circumstance for several shortcomings in the recent past, but I choose not to dwell on any of that very much. Only to the point where I hopefully won’t repeat any mistakes. But where I go from here, time will tell. There are still worthwhile opportunities out there around the area. And of course, I can’t forget about self-employment as a freelancer. That avenue just might be opening up again.

Perhaps We Think About Homosexual Too Much

February 20, 2010

I can’t help but think at times about how hung up we all are about sex. I say “we” as in the proverbial “we,” as in no one is excluded. We use sex for everything; it’s pretty much just like any other commodity. Women use sex to get guys to do what they want. Men use sex (for everything). Advertisers use sex to sell just about anything short of baby food. Why? Because we love it!

But it’s not without its hang-ups. Specifically, I’m thinking sex and how it pertains to homosexuals.

Over a matter of time in our little history in this country, we’ve watched homosexuals struggle for equal rights, slowly coming out of the closet full of fear of what the ignorant and angry might do to them. And slowly they’ve had less and less to fear by means of retaliation for their… well, for being them. But I’ve had a hard time trying to grasp onto the WHY. Why are homosexuals so disliked? Why do people get disgusted with them, to the point of hatred sometimes? It just doesn’t seem to make sense.

But then I thought about it some more. I think it’s because they’re called homoSEXUALS. These people, who’s faces cringe at the thought of a homosexual couple, can’t distinguish the 95% of their lives they spend doing the same things everyone else does, such as go to work, cook dinner, go shopping, from what they do that last 5% of the time: have sex (by the way, I wish we were all so lucky as to have sex for 5% percent of our life!).

From the heterosexual’s point of view, they don’t want to think about that! But they do. But really, they should stop it. That’s sick! I don’t go up to couples walking down the street and to their face act horrified by the idea of what they do in the bedroom.

But I won’t blame this whole thing on heterosexuals being scared of what they don’t understand. I think this whole thing can be taken care of right now with a simple twist in semantics. I propose that instead of homosexuals, we now use the term homolovables. Because, let’s face it, that 5% quote above, even that’s a stretch. But especially to our GLBT brethren out there who are in committed relationships, they spend far more of their time in love.

That’s my proposition. Homolovables: Say it with me! I say we all get our heads out of the gutters and start treating people like people; ie. how we want to be treated. I’d like to think we’re all adult enough to stop playing foolish games like denial of equal rights just because someone’s different. Haven’t we gone through all that already?