DOMA Denied, Part 1

In which our author addresses the Supreme Court striking down the Defense of Marriage Act as applied to being an American. 

The Supreme Court of the United States, in a split decision, has determined that the Defense of Marriage Act is not constitutional. This is...not really that surprising. Frankly, it's kind of like the Supreme Court deciding that it's not a great idea to tell really racist jokes or fart in elevators: the real news is that someone had to be told. I really don't understand how this got through in the first place to be honest.

We allowed a bunch of politicians to deny a group of people rights based on personal beliefs, and called it "Defense of Marriage". Personally, I didn't feel like my marriage was under attack, but maybe I wasn't paying close enough attention. I suppose I could have been surrounded at all times by gay ninjas, surreptitiously trying to convince me that I should leave my wife for a dude. There was that one time someone recommended a Ryan Reynolds movie at the video store. It was Green Lantern. I guess that's kind of suspicious.

Still, I don't feel like anything serious was addressed in this attempt to defend marriage. Why not criminalize adultery, or publicly fund marriage counseling? Perhaps put a waiting period on divorce. Hell, they try to put all sorts of fascinating restrictions on abortions all the time, but I'm pretty sure I could get a divorce over lunch and still have time to grab McDonald's. Of course I would never consider such a thing, because I love my wife dearly and...well, come on. McDonald's? Blech.

As far as the claim that gay marriage is somehow weakening "traditional marriages", I've got to admit that I'm not sure what is meant by this expression. I mean, how traditional are we talking here? Are we going with the idea that I give my wife her own house, and in return she's in charge of "spinning, sewing, weaving, manufacture of clothing, fetching of water, baking of bread, and animal husbandry"? Hopefully not, because I can't afford a second place and she not into husbanding animals (that I know of - now that I think about it, I've never really brought it up). Or should I just be satisfied with expecting to come home to be handed a cocktail to sip on while she finishes up preparing the pot roast for dinner? And either way, what does this have to do with gay people? Do they not know how to make a martini?

I guess my point is that taking away rights from gay people really didn't defend anything, and what with it being a pretty clear violation of their rights, the news that it wasn't upheld isn't a big shock for me. I know that there are arguments for the law, and for better or worse I will address some of those in the near future, but really, they don't apply here. So long as we want to loudly declare that America stands for freedom, and I'm pretty sure most of us are still in that camp, we kind of need to get past our personal prejudices and be okay with those freedoms and rights applying to all of us.

*sigh* Yes, even furries.

Just One More Reason To Be Grateful For My Flowing Tresses

There are terrific opportunities to discuss current event today. Paula "Butter Face" Deen being in a pickle over racially insensitive comments (see what I did there?). A man, psychotic while pumped full of magic mushrooms, pulling off part of his own junk (although to be fair, his religion is not mentioned, so he may have just thought he found another mushroom). Miley Cyrus being...well, Miley Cyrus.

Instead, however, I will share one of those deeply personal glimpses into my own weirdness, as I have heard that sort of thing is good for a person.

Today, as I dropped my son off at summer camp (which is what they call day care in the summer), one of his teachers said "So, you'll be joining us for our zoo trip?" (my tagging along on zoo trips being an established thing, despite any promiscuous primate behavior). As one might expect, I responded "yes".

And here's where things get strange. As the word "yes" left my mouth, the following narrative blew through my brain in an effort to reach my lips:

I know that they're safe and all, but I'm always a little concerned when the kids are at the zoo. See, my father died in a accident at a zoo. Torn apart, right before our eyes, after falling into the monkey enclosure. Mom warned him not to climb up on the edge and taunt the monkeys like that, but my dad...he'd do anything to make us kids laugh, and he'd already rented the banana suit. Unfortunately, he lost his footing and...well anyways, I just like to go along and make sure everyone is being safe.

Seriously, all of that, in the space of the word "yes". I honestly think it might have gotten out save for the fact that my son, who is aware of the fact that my father is dead, was standing right there and would probably have been irreparably harmed, or at least left with an unnatural fear of monkeys. As such, I managed to stifle the flow, much to the benefit of us all.

Besides, everyone knows that dad was one of thousands who died in the collapse of a building caused by one super-powered alien punching a second super-powered alien through the walls, a fact that would probably lead to a compelling villain backstory in someone more fallicularly-challenged than myself.