Friday, January 28, 2005

Somebody draw this guy a picture...

In the last couple of months, I've been exposed repeatedly to so many "arguments" against gay marriage that I thought I must have heard them all. But then we got this fax today that just blew my mind. It started out according to the norm, what with traditional this and family that and the mandatory passage from the Old Testament (Genesis 2 v 24 in this case - oh Creationism, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways...uh...hmmm...).

And then he listed the potential negative consequences of same-sex marriage: blah blah Family, blah blah Sanctity of Marriage, yada yada Rising cost of healthcare (I've actually heard a version of this before, from some dude who said he saw "medical research" that says that a lifetime of anal sex damages the excretory and digestive systems, so that all these old gay men will be running around with colostomy bags. I guess maybe colostomy bags are expensive? I think that's a great excuse for all the ladies out there who don't want to let their male partners in the backdoor: "Well gee, Bobby, I'd love to, but I think it would be an unfair burden on the Canadian healthcare system!") and so on.

And then, right at the bottom, came this little gem. The one thing that, I had assumed, you could NEVER say about gay marriage, that was arguably one of its strongest assets, that, unless you were raised by the most prudish people alive and kept in a bubble you would not say:

"Rising cost of welfare payments - due to casual relationships and children born out of wedlock"


And I thought to myself, "Self? This cannot be what he means. He cannot mean this."

'Cause if he does? I am going to send him a picture. Or two. Or four. And if he has a heart attack and dies - well, rising costs of healthcare be damned.

TODAY'S FUNDY FACT: 90% of all anti-equal marriage letters have those little sticky personalized address labels on them. Many of these labels have pictures of kittens. I have no idea what this means.

Thursday, January 27, 2005

Marriage fun for everyone

Mwa ha ha ha ha...Rick Mercer strikes again. Oh, this one made me laugh so hard I even forgave him for the joke he made a few months ago about how women who take the Pill are big ol' sluts.

In other news...I have to stop reading my birthday present from the chocolate cake girls before bedtime, 'cause I had to sleep with the light on again last night. True story - Mo and I discovered one day that we had both independently come up with a zombie survival plan for the apartment. That's how we knew we were meant to be roommates. Also, she has a big stick. No, an actual stick, you pervs. Anyway, aside from a unsurprising lack of firepower, our place is not a bad spot for withstanding a zombie siege. Plus - digital cable!

Speaking of which - as part of the 31 days of great TV, I watched one of the free on-demand offerings, a short film called "The Windigo" about...well, take a wild guess. It had these two thirtysomething biologists tracking a wolf through the forest, and was shot fairly well and I was all huh, not too bad, and then about ten minutes in I got too scared to watch the rest. Apparently, 24 is the age where you become a giant weenie. Not like that, you pervs.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

A little less conversation, a little more action

Hey all you dudes and dudettes,

I know many of you have answered the call already, but I'm gonna put it out there again - those of you who haven't sent something out to your MP (emphasis on "your" 'cause I'm lazy and hate sorting through all those e-mails) need to go to this website right now. It only takes a second and it really does help. Seriously. Go. Come on. Why are you still reading this? Don't worry, I'll wait.

Thing is - legislation is probably going to be introduced any second now and the fundies (fundamentalists, not fun underwear) (although wouldn't that be entertaining?) are getting their freak on at an alarming intensity.

Now, I still hold true to my belief that Canada is progressive, not ass-backwards as these people like to think. But the problem is that they're the ones making the most noise! How can we compete with that?

By using our secret weapon - Democracy! See, in our political system, each person gets one vote. That's it. Just one. And it doesn't matter HOW LOUD YOU YELL - you're still only getting one vote, buster. Sending one e-mail or one letter or making one phone call completely neutralizes some fundy out there, whether or not he or she spent 14 hours painstakingly cutting out little "Adam and Steve" paper dolls to send to MPs and chuckling over his or her cleverness. And no, that hasn't happened yet. And don't even get me started on the whole "It rhymes, therefore it must be true" form of logical reasoning. I mean, it's a wonder Socrates never thought of that.

So contact your MP - and this especially goes for anybody hanging in a Conservative-held riding(check out the above website to find out who's your MP). This especially goes out to people in the Edmonton riding of Rahim Jaffer, since he has stated that if he got enough messages from his constituents, he would support equal marriage.

Let's show these fundies that they're not the boss of us!

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

If you like pina coladas

Shoot - so, fuckin' blogger or internet explorer or something just deleted my entire post so let's see how much I can do from memory...goddamn, I was in such a good mood too...grrr. Yes, yes, I know, I have such a tough life...Okay, here goes:

So, just got back from Coo-ba with Dan. We sat in the sun, strolled on the beach, played volleyball, drank rum punch for breakfast and did all sorts of things that our co-workers will beat us up for when we tell them. We didn't leave the resort at all, but judging by my comprehensive experience based one week at an all-inclusive, I have to say that communism is bad for customer service. So that's my main complaint with Marx, now, I guess. I just want more bang for my convertible Cuban peso.

Can't complain, though, when I hear about the weather last week in Ottawa - apparently down to the -30s and beyond. Like, ew. Just gross. Offensive. I'm outraged. At least the anger keeps me warm...

In other news, I did (Shout outs Courtney and Nath'n for their long-distance wishes) turn 24. I also became an Ontario resident. Guess I'll have to start driving like an ass and talking shit about other provinces now. Kidding! Please don't revoke my OHIP card.

The Big House is going to be in session again next week, so I'm just gearing up for that slowly. This week's been pretty quiet, except for the 14 gazillion e-mails about the you know what. Thank God I finally figured out how to use the "Rules" feature on Outlook to sort out the non-constituency letters - can anyone say..."BALEETED!!" Yesterday I got rid of 1200 with one key stroke...damn, that felt good.

Alright, everybody take care and drive safe and if you're in Atlantic Canada shovelling your way out of 8 feet of snow, all I can say is: at least you're past

Friday, January 14, 2005

Oh no, they found it!

Who? The anti-same-sex-marriagers. What? The internet. I know, I know, I didn’t they ever would either. I expected to keep getting telegrams or letters via the Pony Express or however these people are used to communicating. I mean, not to be rude or stereotypical or over-generalizational or anything, but a lot of these people are…how to put this delicately…older than dirt.

Like the woman who was kind enough to phone me from Powell River, BC, to tell me to protect marriage (like it’s tied to the railroad tracks or something, all “Help me help me I’m a social institution in distress!”). I got the feeling that she probably knew something on the subject, ‘cause I think she was there when marriage was invented. In my head it goes something like this:

Ungha the cavewoman: “Ugh nug sug sug” (“The seed of your loins has fertilized my womb”)
Ugh the caveman: “Rugha nug sug sug nug” (“Are you sure?”)
Ungha: “RARGH!” (“Yes”)
Ugh: "Suga nergh grah ugn nug" (“I guess I’ll have to devote all my resources to protecting and providing for you and my child”)
Ungha: “Grar nar ugh. Ugna gra nug. (“Damn straight. And if you so much as look at another cavewoman I’ll have your “woolly mammoths” for dinner, if you know what I mean”)
Ugh: “Roh-oh” (“I’d better tie this piece of tendon around my finger so I don’t forget”)
Ungha: “Rug ug sug nug ruganug. Rug NUG!” (“Good idea, I’ll wear one too. Also, I have a sudden craving for a blueberries covered in saber-tooth tiger blood NOW!”)
Woman who eventually moved to Powell River and harassed the assistants of elected officials: “Runga nunga wunga” (“What a glorious institution. I must protect it forever. Mmm, blueberries”)

Seriously, though, we’ve finally started to get the mass e-mails from the “Traditional Marriage” camp. I don't know how that happened - maybe all Homer Simpson style, with the "They have the Internet on computers now?" Not that they’ve in anyway slowed from their campaign of patiently handwritten letters. All in all, though, I prefer the letters. It’s just that when I know that someone took the time to write out a 3-page letter describing the various degrees of hell I’m going to burn in for supporting same-sex marriage, it’s so much more satisfying to toss it into the trash without even looking at it. It’s like, oh did that take you 4 hours to write? ‘Cause it took me 4 seconds to throw it in the big ol’ blue container of “Not my problem, fuckface”.

In other news:

Dan and I booked some last-minute travel, so we'll be heading off on the 15th to exotic Cuba (pronounced "Coo-ba" for all us posers). We were originally looking at the Dominican Republic, and I gotta say that the doctor I saw for my travel medecine wasn't really selling me on it. He was like, when'd you get your last tetanus shot? Hepatitis B vaccination? You'll have to get a Hep A shot...and here's some malaria pills. Oh, and a prescription in case you get torrential [his word, not mine] diarrhea!

But this deal to Cuba came up instead. I've never been down to the Carribbean so I don't really know what to expect. All in all I'm pretty excited - as Mo pointed out to me the other day, all I really have to worry about is if Castro right and exercise regularly, comrade!