Personal Freedoms

Society at large is nowhere near as laid back as when I was young. You can't walk down the street smoking a joint these days. Cops wouldn't laugh if they caught you having sex in public. You'd never smuggle a bottle of Southern Comfort into a correctional facility. A large group of teenagers standing around in a public park on a Friday night would be arrested for something. We drew some looks in our patched jeans and embroidered army jackets, but not like we would now in this military-worshipping world.

Yet somehow, in a world of patrolled behavioural conformity, there is a personal freedom unheard of in our barefooted unshaven days. In the complex navigation of adolescence, teens will talk about sexuality in an open way these days. And bigotry too. What was a middle finger of defiance then is quite ordinary now. A boy in a flamboyant skirt on a summery day may get a few rolled eyes but wouldn't be pointed at and chased down a Manhattan street, an image burned into my brain as I stood there in my Catholic school uniform helplessly watching.

While there will always be an enclave of narrow-minded morons among us, there is much more diversity allowed nowadays. Children aren't forced into churches as we all were. Little boys can get their nails polished by little girls. Girls can wear pants- jeans!- to school. Children have rights just like regular people. Who knew?

We've come a long way. My father called my brother Billy "Sheepdog" for growing his hair over his ears. I wish he'd been alive to see me with a Mohawk and tattooes. Or even more, to see his 16 year-old great-granddaughter with tattoos and proclaiming Atheism. Billy has no hair at all now.

I take heart that there are entertainers like Lady Gaga and Antony & the Johnsons around. Yeah, we had Bowie and Iggy, The Velvet Underground and the New York Dolls. They broke the ground for Boy George to go multi-platinum. These days being "outrageous" is standard. And never, ever would a patriarchal literary hero like Dumbledore have been gay. Nor would a black guy have been President of the US.

So yeah, in some ways things are better. There is more freedom and protection to be who you are. It's a start.

Here's some performance freedom. Gods bless the arts:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h32WC1aUQsc

Sum, Sum, Summertime

Wow is it Summer. Today is just shy of uncomfortably warm, those balmy breezes blow but don't refresh. It's unapologetically sunny. I'd be out swimming in this weather. The roses in the front garden are about to burst, birds comb the lawn for bugs, the bleeding hearts are wilting and the hostas keep pushing forth more blossoms. The geri crew stroll by, their stark white legs lost in voluminous shorts. It smelled of cut grass in here until I made the tuna salad for the party. I hope that dissipates by Monday!

Today is the ninety-day mark of living here. Now, with my paintings and drawings up, drapes hanging in the bedroom, things more or less close to where they'll live, it's starting to feel like my home. The bookcases are almost full, knickknacks and little framed photos on the shelves too, looking as if they've been there all along. There are still lots of things to unpack and find places for but the majority is done. It's that point where "the bedroom" becomes "my bedroom". And finally, I'm beginning to relax. Just in time for the heat.

What a huge adjustment it is to move. In both space and time. Here in Vermont the seasons are dramatically different, may change on a whim, and time conspires with Mother Nature to do bizarre tricks on the senses. The day of the move we were worried about snow- all the forecasters called for it. Now just 12 weeks later it's nearly dog days. And in another 12 weeks it could be snowing again, then the temps may soar to the 70s. Being out of downtown and back among trees and grounds, the weather is much more pronounced. Perhaps it's just that seasons seem to speed up as I age. Or that I have time now to notice these things.

The summer will zoom past as it always does with its glories and discomforts. Watching plants grow to their full height is a time stamp, too. Like people, they come into full maturity, then slowly start to shrink. It seemed the summer was much longer when I was young.

Religion, Respect and Reality

If one must have a label, as most people demand these days, I guess I'm a Secular Humanist more than anything, though I reserve the right to honor Thor. Jesus, the Buddha, Lao Tsu, Mohammed are all good examples of what humans should aspire to be. Honor, respect, yes, I can do that. Worship, join their cult, live by what men have hypocritically conscripted and give their cults money and power over me? Not so much. That's where they all lose me.

Though I love the old church music and spent many years in those vestments singing those music pieces, it was always for the beauty of the music, not for the worship. Worship is, to me, just stupid. From childhood I equated the construct of what the organized religions taught to be as the imaginary friend. The old man in the sky theory was always a fairy tale to me. On the level with the other heroes. Not to be taken verbatim. Not the boss of me. For one thing, I didn't want some being who was so mean but was supposed to be love as the center of my life. It eas just patently idiotic. Didn't go over well in Sunday School to say these things, but I couldn't take it seriously. And my Mother believed it all and I knew she was crazy, so that was my conclusion. Being religious= nuts.

As I grew older and read more, like Fr. Chinoquy's 50 Years in the Church of Rome, I became more dissuaded. The acts of the Christian empire sickened me. So did the acts of the Islamic empires, the various Pagan empires, and pretty much all of the organized religions. They all sucked and still do. Organized religions are all about power over people, and can go fuck themselves.

Which isn't to say I disrespect the philosophies they espouse. At the heart of most faiths is a desire to be a good person. That is the most laudable, most noble quest that humans can take on. If it all stopped there, without the dogmas and bullshit, I'd be one of the flock. But it doesn't. There's such a thing as evangelism, which is despicable and I'm sure the basis of all bad things. It leads to self-assured pompousity and the delusion of the right to persecute others, which are so anti-Christ, so anti-Muhammed, so anti-human, so damned wrong that nothing justifies it. Evangelism kills. I hate it.

I so wanted to be a nun as a child. The idea of devoting your life to others and to making the world a place of love so attracted me. And I loved the uniform! But no, there was all this Bride of Christ dogma you had to swear to, these church limitations, this patriarchal stagnant order of total mindless obedience. Couldn't do that. I tried at 19 and ran away. Not long ago I thought I could work around all that and subliminate things for the greater good- but they don't take gimps. How hypocritical is that? What would Jesus think of that? The organizations carrying his name reject people who can't walk? That ended my church thoughts for once and all.

For many years in the interim I was a practicing Pagan. But the organizations around that were also agenda-ridden. So I went solitary and kept Thor just because I like him. He protects humans, is truthful and is upfront undependable unless you meet his small demands, which don't include worship, just understanding and keeping your word. That's a God I can understand. You promise something, you carry through, he'll help. A good honest deal. If I have to have a God, and I seem to, Thor's the one.

I figure if it does no harm to anyone else and makes me happier, why not? I just want to live and let live without persecution from someone else's evangelism. I don't desire that they think what I think (though I think their beliefs may be dangerous), why should they give a rat's ass what I think? And what makes them think they're entitled to shove their beliefs down my throat? Oh don't get me started.

There are many Atheists now. That's fine. I don't really care cuz it's not my business. It just seems a bit sad to me that we've lost so much magick in the world already, and living in an only practical five-sensate world is a colourless place. But I could well be wrong. Maybe it will be better without our imaginary friends and unseeable forces.

Blow It Off

Okay. I contributed my experience of having nearly every gay man I knew deny the existence of bisexuality to a thread. And was condescendingly and arrogantly responded to by someone who doesn't know me, nor know that I was in college when he was a fetus, and advised to get to know more gay men. The fucking nerve. I lost dozens of gay male friends and bosses in the AIDS epidemic. I was a GMHC volunteer when he was in diapers. I walked in the first AIDS Walk NY. I entertained at AIDS fundraisers. My adopted little brother was gay. The first book I tried to write was going to be titled "Diary of a Fag Hag", about the AIDS epidemic and what we did thru it. I couldn't finish it because of the constant nightmares. Who the hell does he think he's talking to?

And to top it, he misquoted me to make his point. Which is not a good sign for an elected official, especially one I voted for because there was an undercurrent of anti-gay sentiment in that election.

Nothing, nothing gets under my skin and on my last nerve like presumptive arrogance. I'm pissed. Time to get offline and seek distraction.

Right Here and Now

All the food is in the house awaiting my cooking. The paintings are hung. The whole place is clean. 30 beers chill and 30 more await fridge room. The lists are made, everything's accounted for and almost everyone's coming. With Annie's beer run and Alicia's shopping, I'm ready for the party. Almost.

Just waiting for the okay to borrow some chairs from the community room here...

And now I get to relax for the night. Can't cook this far ahead, everything's in place (but the chairs), I don't think I've ever been this organized in my life. Of course, part of me thinks I've forgotten something major or something terrible will happen. That's what party anxiety is all about. So staying in the right here and now is the way to go.

The older I get the more I see that if you borrow trouble you'll get it, that planning and organizing is the most important thing to do, and that you can handle anything if you think it through. And it really helps to have friends.

I think I may go polish the wheelchair. Maybe decorate the walker. Life's short. Celebrate any minute you can.