Gays Shouldn’t Have Library Cards

I don’t believe that Proposition 8 in California goes nearly far enough.  Therefore, I hereby put forth my own proposition, and perhaps even this shouldn’t be limited to the state of California, but should become an amendment to the Constitution of the United States of America, because it’s JUST THAT IMPORTANT.

Marriage is, at least insofar as it relates to the state and federal governments, an institution that brings with it a legal status entitling a person to certain benefits and privileges.  Similarly, a library card is an official document giving permission – which is like a legal right - for an individual to receive certain benefits and privileges,  namely the right to check out books, read magazines for free, and occasionally access the internet.

Borrowing from the arguments identified in a summary of the venerable Dr. James Dobson on the cleverly and imaginatively named website, “nogaymarriage.com,” *  as evidence, 

I propose that library cards only be issued to heterosexuals. 


Argument #1:  The implications for children in a world of decaying families are profound. A recent article in the Weekly Standard described how the advent of legally sanctioned gay unions in Scandinavian countries has already destroyed the institution of marriage, where half of today’s children are born out of wedlock.

Scandinavians are socialists.  Everything that has anything to do with socialism is bad.  Therefore, anything Scandinavian is bad.  This includes Abba, Rykrisp crackers, and gay marriage.

It is predicted now, based on demographic trends in this country, that more than half of the babies born in the 1990s will spend at least part of their childhood in single-parent homes… If it continues, almost every child will have several “moms” and “dads,” perhaps six or eight “grandparents,” and dozens of half-siblings.

Everybody knows that more family is bad.  The more people there are who can support you and show you love, the more likely your ideology will be polluted with conflicting ideas.  Next thing you know, your kids will be socialists.  Gay socialists.

The apostle Paul described a similar society in Romans 1, which addressed the epidemic of homosexuality that was rampant in the ancient world and especially in Rome at that time. He wrote, “They have become filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, greed and depravity. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit and malice. They are gossips, slanderers, God-haters, insolent, arrogant and boastful; they invent ways of doing evil; they disobey their parents; they are senseless, faithless, heartless, ruthless” (v. 29-31, NIV).

It appears likely now that the demise of families will accelerate this type of decline dramatically, resulting in a chaotic culture that will be devastating to children.

I’m sure that the science and data behind this is sound, despite the fact that the website offers none as support.  But they wouldn’t lie, would they?  I mean, hell, or rather, heck, they quote the bible! 

Now to my point:  Scandinavians offer library cards to homosexuals and we’ve all agreed that Scandinavia is a seething fiery pit of doom.  Also, if homosexuals are allowed to have library cards, too many people will be able to check library books out of the library and then the children might not be able to find Phyllis Shlafly’s Big Book of Bigoted Rhymes and Decidedly NOT Fairy Tales when they want to.  This would be detrimental to children.  Lots of research shows this.  It’s true.  I’m almost sure of it.

Argument #2
The introduction of legalized gay marriages will lead inexorably to polygamy and other alternatives to one-man, one-woman unions….

Why will gay marriage set the table for polygamy? Because there is no place to stop once that Rubicon has been crossed. Historically, the definition of marriage has rested on a bedrock of tradition, legal precedent, theology and the overwhelming support of the people. After the introduction of marriage between homosexuals, however, it will be supported by nothing more substantial than the opinion of a single judge or by a black-robed panel of justices. After they have done their wretched work, the family will consist of little more than someone’s interpretation of “rights.”

Those wretched judges.  Why should we entrust them to enforce the laws of the land and the interpretation of “rights.”  We don’t have “rights” anymore.  Dick Cheney took them all and hid them in his non-google-able bunker.  Instead of trusting these “black robed” – clearly a mark of the devil, wouldn’t you say, judges, we should allow someone who speaks with a more reliable authority to tell us all what we can and can’t do, like, for instance, Dr. James Dobson.  Or Scooby Doo.

Given that unstable legal climate, it is certain that some self-possessed judge, somewhere, will soon rule that three men and one woman can marry. Or five and two, or four and four. Who will be able to deny them that right? The guarantee is implied, we will be told, by the Constitution. Those who disagree will continue to be seen as hate-mongers and bigots. (Indeed, those charges are already being leveled against those of us who espouse biblical values!) How about group marriage, or marriage between relatives, or marriage between adults and children? How about marriage between a man and his donkey? Anything allegedly linked to “civil rights” will be doable. The legal underpinnings for marriage will have been destroyed.

What’s to say, then, that some judicial activist wearing the devil’s own garments will not hand out library cards to two adult women or two adult men in the same family?  Imagine the chaos.  What’s to stop that same misguided judge, relying on nothing more substantial than a 250 year old piece of paper, from giving a library card to a donkey?  That would have a tragic effect on libraries around the country.  Have you ever seen what donkey poop can do to a library rug?  Besides, donkeys can’t read.  Unless of course, the Abba-loving, Rykrisp noshing judges want to advocate teaching reading in schools…to donkeys.

Argument #3
An even greater objective of the homosexual movement is to end the state’s compelling interest in marital relationships altogether. After marriages have been redefined, divorces will be obtained instantly, will not involve a court, and will take on the status of a driver’s license or a hunting permit. With the family out of the way, all rights and privileges of marriage will accrue to gay and lesbian partners without the legal entanglements and commitments heretofore associated with it.

I think we can all see the clear logic of this argument, right?  It would be absurd for a government – responsible for the laws of the land – to treat their involvement in marriage, namely the part that has to do with laws and rights, as an issue of laws and rights. 

If governments were to issue library cards to non-heterosexuals, the door would be open to offering those same non-heterosexuals other rights and privileges of society, such as protection from the fire departments and police, the joy of paying taxes, and the possibility of a free and adequate education. 


Argument #4
With the legalization of homosexual marriage, every public school in the nation will be required to teach that this perversion is the moral equivalent of traditional marriage between a man and a woman. Textbooks, even in conservative states, will have to depict man/man and woman/woman relationships, and stories written for children as young as elementary school, or even kindergarten, will have to give equal space to homosexuals.

This argument about keeping the issuance of library cards a sacred privilege for heterosexuals practically makes itself, doesn’t it?!  If gays are allowed to have library cards, they will be allowed unrestricted access to books, and therefore, knowledge, including the knowledge that we have fought so hard to keep out of the public schools – like how the world was created in seven days , dinosaurs are fictional, and how women are meant to be subject to men’s wills.  Which is irrelevant if the gay couple is two men, but still…subversive ideas are subversive ideas!


Argument #5

From that point forward, courts will not be able to favor a traditional family involving one man and one woman over a homosexual couple in matters of adoption. Children will be placed in homes with parents representing only one sex on an equal basis with those having a mom and a dad. The prospect of fatherless and motherless children will not be considered in the evaluation of eligibility. It will be the law.

If homosexuals are granted access to libraries, they will be able to check out books.  If they fail to return these books and are delinquent in paying their fines, the libraries will suffer.  The law will, essentially, require that people do not return library books.  Probably, people will be encouraged to write in them.  In Scandinavian languages.



Argument #6
Foster-care parents will be required to undergo “sensitivity training” to rid themselves of bias in favor of traditional marriage, and will have to affirm homosexuality in children and teens.

Clearly, sensitivity is bad.  As is knowledge without the mitigating factor of intervention by fanatics with your best interests at heart.  If gays are allowed in libraries, librarians will have to learn how to pretend that gay people should be treated like non-gay people and to be able to deal with those gay people on a regular basis without becoming hysterical or despondent.  The cost of the counseling and treatment for these librarians would place an undue burden on the non-homosexual tax-paying public.



Argument #7

How about the impact on Social Security if there are millions of new dependents that will be entitled to survivor benefits? It will amount to billions of dollars on an already overburdened system. And how about the cost to American businesses? Unproductive costs mean fewer jobs for those who need them. Are state and municipal governments to be required to raise taxes substantially to provide health insurance and other benefits to millions of new “spouses and other dependents”?

It would be unreasonable to expect that tax-paying and hard working homosexuals receive the same economic benefit from our society as heterosexuals.  By the same token, if homosexuals  are allowed to check books out of the library, libraries will need to stock more books to accommodate the extra demand.  The cost of acquiring those extra books would be passed on to taxpayers and municipal governments.  The financial impact of this added book-buying burden could be devastating and could require that townships and counties go without critical services, like meter maids who hover nearby, waiting for your meter to expire while you race back to your car from Dunkin’ Donuts because everybody knows that Dunkin’ Donuts makes the best coffee.


Argument #8
Marriage among homosexuals will spread throughout the world, just as pornography did after the Nixon Commission declared obscene material “beneficial” to mankind.11 Almost instantly, the English-speaking countries liberalized their laws against smut. America continues to be the fountainhead of filth and immorality, and its influence is global…

Library use by homosexuals will be spread throughout the world, just as pornography did after the Nixon Commission declared obscene material, such as literature and art, beneficial to mankind.  And everybody knows that straight porn is the only kind of acceptable porn.  Gay porn is just weird.

Argument #9
Perhaps most important, the spread of the Gospel of Jesus Christ will be severely curtailed. The family has been God’s primary vehicle for evangelism since the beginning.

Its most important assignment has been the propagation of the human race and the handing down of the faith to our children. Malachi 2:15 reads, referring to husbands and wives, “Has not the Lord made them one? In flesh and spirit they are His. And why one? Because He was seeking godly offspring. So guard yourself in your spirit, and do not break faith with the wife of your youth” (NIV).

That responsibility to teach the next generation will never recover from the loss of committed, God-fearing families. The younger generation and those yet to come will be deprived of the Good News, as has already occurred in France, Germany and other European countries. Instead of providing for a father and mother, the advent of homosexual marriage will create millions of motherless children and fatherless kids. This is morally wrong, and is condemned in Scripture. Are we now going to join the Netherlands and Belgium to become the third country in the history of the world to “normalize” and legalize behavior that has been prohibited by God himself? Heaven help us if we do!

And also, God told me that he doesn’t want homosexuals to read books.  He did. Therefore, giving library cards to homosexuals is morally wrong.  Because I said so.  I mean, God said so.  To me.  He did.  I promise.



Argument #10

The culture war will be over, and I fear, the world may soon become “as it was in the days of Noah” (Matthew 24:37, NIV). This is the climactic moment in the battle to preserve the family, and future generations hang in the balance.


This apocalyptic and pessimistic view of the institution of the family and its future will sound alarmist to many, but I think it will prove accurate unless-unless-God’s people awaken and begin an even greater vigil of prayer for our nation. That’s why Shirley and I are urgently seeking the Lord’s favor and asking Him to hear the petitions of His people and heal our land.

As of this time, however, large segments of the church appear to be unaware of the danger; its leaders are surprisingly silent about our peril (although we are tremendously thankful for the efforts of those who have spoken out on this issue). The lawless abandon occurring recently in California, New Mexico, New York, Oregon, Washington and elsewhere should have shocked us out of our lethargy. So far, I’m alarmed to say, the concern and outrage of the American people have not translated into action.


This reticence on behalf of Christians is deeply troubling. Marriage is a sacrament designed by God that serves as a metaphor for the relationship between Christ and His Church. Tampering with His plan for the family is immoral and wrong. To violate the Lord’s expressed will for humankind, especially in regard to behavior that He has prohibited, is to court disaster.

Finally, and in conclusion, giving library cards to homosexuals will result in the apocalypse.

The end.
















*Don’t click on it.  They don’t deserve the traffic.

Have Some Cake with Your Post-Apocalyptic Nightmare




Despite appearances to the contrary, I did not vote in the Iraqi general election.
I made cupcakes.  And a mess.
Also, I can’t figure out how to take up-close, no flash photos that are in focus. 


Black water, smooth above the weir
Like starry velvet in the night,
Though ruffled once, would soon appear
The same as ever to the sight. – E.A. Robinson, The Mill


We had a birthday chez WRH this past weekend.  Because I am compelled by the devil deep insecurity pathology love for my family to make every birthday cake ten times more complicated than it needs to be, I decided to conduct a little experiment.  It was messy.  But it was worth it.

I set out on my quest to find the best red velvet cake recipe…there was no shortage of options.  Debate rages furiously about types of cocoa, quantities of red food coloring (used to be that the combination of vinegar and baking soda used to give airiness to the cake batter would turn the cocoa reddish, hence “red velvet”), and the most hot-button of issues – cream cheese vs. buttercream roux frosting.

I’ll spare you the details, but everybody in my household was in agreement:  Magnolia Bakery cupcake/cake recipe with Creamy Vanilla Frosting.  The cream cheese frosting was too overwhelming and too heavy for this cake. 


Red Velvet Cupcakes


3 1/2 cups cake flour (not self-rising)
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
2 cups sugar
3 large eggs, at room temperature
6 tablespoons red food coloring
3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 1/2 cups buttermilk
1 1/2 teaspoons cider vinegar
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda


Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease and lightly flour three 9- by 2-inch round cake pans, then line the bottoms with waxed paper. Unless you are making cupcakes, and then preparing cake pans would be a colossal waste of time.


In a small bowl (this is your first clue that this is going to make a devastating mess in your kitchen), sift (!!!) the cake flour and set aside.

In a large bowl (told you), on the medium speed of an electric mixer, cream the butter and sugar until very light and fluffy, about 5 minutes.  This is moderately important.  For one thing, you need to make the sugar un-granulate – which isn’t a word but you know what I mean.  5 minutes doesn’t sound like much, but it’s actually an eternity when you’re listening to the Kitchen-Aid whirr.  You could knock a minute or two off that time.
 
Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.
 
In a small bowl, whisk together the red food coloring, cocoa, and vanilla. Hello Giant Mess!

Add to the batter, which looked normal before, and beat well.  Now it looks like something from a horror movie.



normal batter




horror movie batter


Stir the salt into the buttermilk in yet another vessel. Add to the batter in three parts alternating with the flour. With each addition, beat until the ingredients are incorporated, but do not overbeat, which means, what exactly?  I don’t know what “overbeating” is.  It sounds naughty.

In your four hundredth bowl of the day, stir together the cider vinegar and baking soda. Add to the batter and mix well.
 
Scrape the hell out of the bowl because one single unblended bit of vinegar or baking soda will be seriously nasty if you  or an unsuspecting cupcake eater bites into it.

Divide the batter among the prepared pans. Bake for 20 minutes.  Start testing the cupcakes at about 17 minutes.  Cool in the pans forever and ever – which means that you’ll be making cupcakes for an entire day unless you have a tremendous number of cupcake tins.


Labor intensive yet totally worth it vanilla icing

* before you make this, have someone in your house or neighborhood sign an oath that he/she will remove any extra frosting from your house immediately after preparation.  Otherwise you run a real risk of calling in sick to work and hiding in the basement in your pajamas with your face in the bowl.  And that would just be embarrassing.  For all of us.


6 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 cups milk
2 cups (4 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
2 cups sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

In a medium-size saucepan, whisk the flour into the milk until smooth. Place over medium heat and, stirring constantly, cook until the mixture becomes very thick and begins to bubble, 10-15 minutes. Cover with waxed paper placed directly on the surface and cool to room temperature, about 30 minutes.  Wax paper!??  Who the hell has waxed paper unless you’ve been pretending to be crafty-mom and making those things with autumn leaves that you iron.



In a large bowl, on the medium high speed of an electric mixer, beat the butter for 3 minutes, until smooth and creamy. Gradually add the sugar, beating continuously for 3 minutes until fluffy. Use the minute you shaved off the mixing time in the cake recipe and add it here.  More beating the frosting = more better frosting.  Yes.  I know that’s grammatically incorrect. 

Add the vanilla and beat well.


Add the cooled milk mixture, and continue to beat on the medium high speed for 5 minutes, until very smooth and noticeably whiter in color. Cover and refrigerate for 15 minutes (no less and no longer—set a timer!). Use immediately.  Those are the exact words from the Magnolia Bakery recipe.  They sound serious.  I’d do it.


I’d show you a picture of what they look like when they are all frosted and perfect, but I can’t.  We ate them.  But here’s a shot of what we looked like after we ate them all:



And by the way, they go perfectly with the heart wrenching experience of reading a glum and desparate nihilist tale of survival.


                                                  
         

It’s not too late to leave a comment or respond to somebody else about The Road!  Look at
yesterday’s review and discussion!

Literary Rorschach

This is The Road:




This is your brain on The Road:




OK.  So it’s not exactly an auspicious beginning to a review for someone who’d like to be taken semi-seriously as a critic.  But bear with me.

I thoroughly anticipated hating Cormac McCarthy’s The Road.  I’d seen No Country For Old Men…meh.  I’d attempted to read All The Pretty Horses a few times, but this kind of hooha made me put it down before I’d made it through the first few pages:

The candleflame and the image of the candleflame caught in the pierglass twisted and righted when he entered the hall and again when he shut the door. He took off his hat and came slowly forward. The floorboards creaked under his boots. In his black suit he stood in the dark glass where the lilies leaned so palely from their waisted cutglass vase. Along the cold hallway behind him hung the portraits of forebears only dimly known to him all framed in glass and dimly lit above the narrow wainscotting. He looked down at the guttered candlestub. He pressed his thumbprint in the warm wax pooled on the oak veneer. Lastly he looked at the face so caved and drawn among the folds of funeral cloth, the yellowed moustache, the eyelids paper thin. That was not sleeping. That was not sleeping.” (McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses, page 1.  Which is as far as I ever got).

Along the cold hallway behind him hung The Well Read Hostess because she couldn’t read one more of these dim and dreary sentences that go on for ages without doing anything but sounding dirgy and blah.  Dingy and blah, more like.

The problem was that Adelle kept sending emails from Montana telling me to buck up and give The Road a try.  For like A YEAR.  She’s not usually wrong (about books, or even much else, except colloquial expressions, which she’s ALWAYS wrong about…like, “That guy’s not very bright;  he’s a few sandwiches short of a delicatessen,” or “I love this new song, it’s the shits,”  or “My new car has every feature, it’s really got all the bells and drums.”  You get the idea.), so I very dramatically sighed, and said, “OH Alright, already!!!!”

And in the immortal words of one Mr. Gomer Pyle, surprise, surprise, surprise.

I really, really loved it.  I blasted through it so quickly that I had to keep checking to make sure I wasn’t skipping pages.  I read some reviews and was relieved that they tended to capture what I felt about the writing, but that I still had my own idea about the book and its meaning(s), and I even watched an Oprah interview with McCarthy (hard to score that interview, I gather), and gleaned absolutely nothing from it except that it put me to sleep faster than the passage up there.

Obviously, there is a lot to work with here in terms of understanding and discussing this novel, which doesn’t seem like the correct term for this book at all…it needs its own genre.  Calling it a post-apocalyptic story sounds like Tim LaHaye and some other end of days snake handling bible thumper left his greasy fingerprints all over it, and that is absolutely not the case, so I don’t know what else to call it other than a novel.  Maybe you can do better.

I could talk about how spare the prose is, while it still presents and even amplifies vivid detail.  This is all the more impressive given that all the images are drawn in shades of gray and black.  The details that emerge in fine relief have to be visible in a neutral, almost uniform landscape;  it’s like they are drawn with a blunt stick in a pile of ashes but somehow look like masterpieces.  Imagine if those Tibetan Monks worked in black and gray sand only and not all of those bright colors.

I could quote passages that reached out to me with grasping claws begging for my attention, such as, “The silky spills of ash against the curbing.  He stood leaning on the gritty concrete rail.  Perhaps in the world’s destruction it would be possible at least to see how it was made.  Oceans, mountains.  The ponderous counterspectacle of things ceasing to be.  The sweeping waste, hydroptic (had to look it up:  edema; swelling, and it still doesn’t make sense to me) and coldly secular...” (274)

I could wax rhapsodic about the poignancy of the father’s expressions of love for his son, many of which his son never hears but we do, and how they made me actually get up out of bed and go in to lie with my own son, my cheek pressed against his own sleeping golden head and how, when I returned to my room, I had to breathe slowly and consciously to fight back that rising nighttime maternal terror that something could happen to my babies that I wouldn’t be able to prevent, not even with my own body and life.

I could vent about how frustrated I still am, over a week after finishing the book, that when they finally arrived at the gulf the water was not, as I’d been hoping without even knowing how much, blue and clean and hopeful, but as dead as the rest of the landscape and as, almost, uncompromising and unkind also.

I could use this space to wrestle with my feelings about the mother’s choice – suicide rather than suffering and witnessing what she perceived to be the inevitable and horrific fates of the two people she loved most.  Namely, yes.  I get it.  And at the same time, how could you?

Two impressions have held on to me the most, though.  One is that The Road is a story, a parable even, about perspective and points of reference.  If one basement holds the worst you could imagine – your own potential fate writ large in the amputated and cauterized limbs of the enslaved waiting to be cannibalized – another holds something that becomes the best – stores of canned food and plain water and woolen blankets and warmth.  In another time and place, and without the comparison with the worst, the best is merely pedestrian.  By contrast with the worst, the pedestrian becomes the sublime.

Which leads me to my second impression.  The Road functions like a Rorschach inkblot.  How the story makes you feel, both while you read and after, is a reflection of your own psyche.  Your own beliefs, fears, hopes, affections, strengths, and weaknesses are revealed in your response to the painful and exhausting journey of this father and son (and you, plodding behind them all the way, as anxious for them as they are for themselves) to a place that doesn’t exist and, even if it did, they wouldn’t know what it was they were heading towards anyway.   

I chose to take this book and its ending as uplifting.  This golden boy who, I think, was intended to be the only remaining flickering flame left of God, Hope, Life, Goodness, whatever you want to call it, left on the planet, has to go on and has to be safe in the company of the pilgrims who found him.  Did the father have to die?  Probably.  Because the son wouldn’t have been able to go on and be whatever he needed to be as merely the son – the one taken care of.  He even knew, early on, that it was his job to carry the fire, and to worry about how everybody else, any remaining good people – his own father included, were doing.

That’s kind of mushy and metaphysical and abstract, but it’s the best I can do.  While I was reading, I was aware of my expectation that afterwards I’d feel uneasy and unsatisfied and vaguely grungy, but I don’t.  In my mind, the messy inkblot is a clear image of something.  I just might not be able to make you see it the same way I do.  <
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