Learn From It

Sam and I had gotten invites to two very different events yesterday. Our good friend, Lee (Skittles...'Taste the Rainbow, bitch!'), invited us to a tattooing convention, where he was getting more work done on his newest tattoo. Matt and Brian invited us over to a pumpkin carving party, and since I didn't yet know about the tattooing thing and I really really wanted to finally meet Matt & Brian in person, and to spend some time hanging with Pete, who I don't get to see nearly enough of, we chose punkins.

This bears repeating: on the one hand, we had the opportunity to go to see "a bunch of gay and straight tattooed freaks", as Skittles put it, or carve pumpkins with a bunch of gay male couples and their adopted children.

God(dess), I love San Francisco.

So, like I said, we chose the latter. It was a lot of fun. I love kids. I often think about having children of my own—of our own. I think I'd be a damn good father. I think there aren't enough kids who grow up imbued with the notion of the Possible, suffused with Hope and Opportunity instead of shot-through with "hard reality" and clipped expectations.

Lee and Sam and others have asked me why I never got a tattoo. My answer is typically that I haven't thought of something that a) applies to my immediate life and b) also means something I can carry with me indelibly.

It turns out that just the other day I thought of something—or at least the possibility of something—that satisfies all criteria: in getting to know Soonae and Jong at Cafe Commons, I have also learned a great deal about Korean values, Korean food and Korean culture. I've asked them to think about the Korean language, if there's a glyph or set of glyphs in Korean that may have no equivalent in English, but mean something along the lines of "open-ended future" or, the last words from Sunday in the Park with George: "White. A blank page or canvas. His favorite: so many...possibilities." Which, I suppose, brings us back around to children.

And how two very different things, when given the right context, can be profoundly simliar.

Posted by Jeff at 12:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Captain Jean-Luc Picard.

Which Star Trek Character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Posted by Jeff at 10:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Guess who said this:

"...a political candidate who jumps to conclusions without knowing the facts is not a person you want as your Commander-in-Chief."

Guess who said it! No, c'mon, try. I'll narrow it down for you: it's one of the two people running for President (yes, there are more than two, but sssserioussssly).

Here are some hints. The same fellow also insisted in front of his own god, country, congress and populace the following things:

• Mustard gas
• enriched plutonium
• there is a connection between Al Qaeda and Saddam Hussein
• Biological weapons
• We have rock solid intelligence on it
• Weapons of mass destruction

Thanks, George. I'll have to agree with you for once. That's absolutely NOT someone I'd want as Commander-In-Chief.

And another thing, Republican pundits, bloggers and the thuddingly stupid general population of Republicans: enough with the crap about Kerry and the now-famous-yet-still-untrue "Global Test". You're all liars and you know it.

Posted by Jeff at 10:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

There is no moon!

Not the moon I know. And I know the moon. After all these months, enough months for most would express it in years. And mostly I do, too, except for nights like this. Nighttimes spent walking, spent in the neighborhood, spent with Sam.

Or spent alone—or both.

Sam is off to a meeting. He and I parted ways after a quick dinner. He likes to get to the meetings early. The seats fill up fast, he says. There's a bit of sadness when I think about that: so many in need of help. There's a note of joy, too: so many helping those who need it.

He got there early tonight; he always needs to get where he's going earlier rather than later. It's a thing of his. It's a thing of mine, too, but only sort of: I just don't like scheduling anything for a given time. Ish, I say, and let's meet up at the bar next door an hour before ish. That way we're all collected at some point, at some time, ready for dinner, or ready to just be together. I guess it's how I can be compulsive and incognito. Compulsively incognito. And compulsive.

Nighttimes like this aren't meant for us who are earthbound. The Earth inteferes. The walk down 18th Street from Collingwood to Sanchez wasn't about footfalls so much as the gliding sensation of moving towards an amber, eclipsed moon. Not my moon.

There's a strange quality to the nighttimes in San Francisco. I've mentioned this before; I mention it often. Whether from being at sea-level or from moist air or from a thaumaturgy particular to the City...who can say. In any case the sky is touchable, almost, a shield-dome barely higher than the tallest earthbound thing. And on it is painted a black-amber moon. Not my moon.

Nighttimes like these are not a time for the earthbound, are not about time at all. Calendars don't make any sense, clocks make even less. Stranger still for a night when Sam has an hour-long 'on the dot!' meeting where he's receiving his 30-day chip. I am not, can not be with him so I sit at Samovar, drinking peppermint-jasmine-chrysanthemum tea which, strangely, makes my neck pain and back pain disappear.

I couldn't be prouder of what he's accomplished in this even though I can't possibly understand what it may mean to him. Simultaneously (simultaneity I understand), I am not surprised. Sam is a force of Nature with the face of an angel and a devil of a wit. Sam occurs. He's there with and for and beside, making it difficult to remember when he wasn't Just There.

Just like my Moon. Which is not my moon tonight.

Posted by Jeff at 09:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The latest crap is from FoxNews...that somehow Bush is smarter than Kerry.

How could this be? Well, FoxNews compares two IQ-like tests to qualify for two different branches of the US Armed Forces. I can't even imagine what kind of test that must be. So, going back to when each of the men were 22 years old, and taking nebulous percentile ratings from two different tests, Fox can claim:

While the two tests aren't perfectly comparable, Sailer says they provide no evidence that Kerry is smarter and that, if anything, Bush is smarter than Kerry.

Huh? This is why Republican supporters are so anti-intellectual, calling those of us who value intelligence "elitist" and "effete". Well, fuck y'all. How's that? At least people like me don't get tripped up on basic logic. And FYI, the "expert" that FoxNews quotes is actually a contributor to an extreme right-wing blog. Liberal media, indeed.

Let's try this, minus the political evocativeness: I have an Apple and an Orange. You can't really compare them because they're of different species...but if anything, an Orange is better!

Maybe the deluded, stomach-thinking dullards who plan on voting for Bush call the rest of us "barking moonbats" because when they hear clearly stated, properly pronounced, logical arguments, all they are capable of interpreting is Bark! Bark! Bark!

Bush isn't stupid, he's clumsy. He's not dumb, he just can't speak clearly. He's not retarded, he just doesn't get the larger world where what he accuses Kerry of is exactly the kind of thing he actually, historically, demonstrably done.

I can't wait til this election is over and Bush is gone from our lives.

Posted by Jeff at 11:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

At first, I really just resented—maybe even hated—Eminem because of the homophobic, short-sighted, shady stupidity that served as the subject matter for his first albums. Then I felt further insulted, not because he told people to take a flying leap if they didn't like his stuff, but rather because he hedged on it, passed the buck to some Shady character.

Then I met Sam, and he liked Eminem. He made me listen to the music not for content, but for rhyming and meter and fit. Doing that, it was a no-brainer to see that the kid is extremely talented. I remember telling Sam that I wished Eminem would find better use for his considerable gifts.

That brings me to his latest video, Mosh. It's an astounding video...the images, the transitions, the special effects. Most importantly, though, it's about the content. I'll post some of the lyrics below, but the magic of a song is the synergy of word and music. So go watch the video. Go buy the song. Good for you, Marshall Mathers. You may end up changing the world.

Come along, follow me as I lead through the darkness
As I provide just enough spark, that we need to proceed
Carry on, give me hope, give me strength,
Come with me, and I won't stear you wrong
Put your faith and your trust as I guide us through the fog
Till the light, at the end, of the tunnel, we gonna fight,
We gonna charge, we gonna stomp, we gonna march through the swamp
We gonna mosh through the marsh, take us right through the doors

To the people up top, on the side and the middle,
Come together, let's all bomb and swamp just a little
Just let it gradually build, from the front to the back
All you can see is a sea of people, some white and some black
Don't matter what color, all that matters is we gathered together
To celebrate for the same cause, no matter the weather
If it rains let it rain, yea the wetter the better
They ain't gonna stop us, they can't, we're stronger now more then ever,
They tell us no we say yea, they tell us stop we say go,
Rebel with a rebel yell, raise hell we gonna let em know
Stomp, push up, mush, fuck Bush, until they bring our troops home come on just . . .

Come along, follow me as I lead through the darkness
As I provide just enough spark, that we need to proceed
Carry on, give me hope, give me strength,
Come with me, and I won't stear you wrong
Put your faith and your trust as I guide us through the fog
Till the light, at the end, of the tunnel, we gonna fight,
We gonna charge, we gonna stomp, we gonna march through the swamp
We gonna mosh through the marsh, take us right through the doors, come on...

Posted by Jeff at 06:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Dear King Bear:

"So you say you aren't happy being who you are. You're depressed because your clothes are full of a closeted git. The last time you allowed others to see who you were, you were probably ashamed. The last time you looked in a mirror, it was screaming "HELP". Your favorite saying is 'One more act of cowardice can't possibly make a difference.' Face it, you are a lazy, spineless useless piece of cr@p who couldn't own up to his own opinions more than a day even if someone offered to pay you to lose your shame."

You can't even write your own shit. How worthless are you?

Yes, kids, the fuckwit is back. Please bear with the possible small messes until he slithers away again.

Posted by Jeff at 10:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

George W. Bush, the President of the United States, the Leader of the 'Free World', said this in a speech this week.

What a fucking nookyalur-powered Doofus.

Posted by Jeff at 12:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

A combination of two things: a West Wing episode from a few years ago where the White House's Supreme Court nominee turns out to be opposed to a fundamental (and Constitutional) right to privacy; an excerpt from America (The Book): A Citizen's Guide to Democracy Inaction about how the Founders f*cked up on their first go at a Constitution.

Now, lifting literal references from a dramatic television show and/or a surprisingly sober (yet humorous) "parody" book would be tantamount to, say, listening to Rush Limbaugh without doing your own reference checking or painting Hannity & Colmes as a fair and balanced debate show. So no, I'm not doing that.

However, I do get inspiration usually in the form of synthesis, where two rather disparate ideas are nonetheless juxtaposed, insisting that I find some commonality or at least relationship between the two. This is what I'm talking about here.

What I'm talking about is two seemingly separate thrusts by the current Republican regime. The first, an attack on privacy. Oh, not their own, because they have privatized measures of protecting their own privacy. Think Patriot Act.

The second, they wish to unilaterally disarm everything about the Federal government, except for those programs that will keep them strong. They gut education, claiming localities handle it better—tho, if that were true, small towns would learn nothing about the outside world except to avoid it, and urban schools would teach that rural areas are full of uneducated cousin fuckers. And no one would learn that the USA is part of a bigger world that has its own ideas of what's valuable and what's not. They gut social programs because, although they claim to want a smaller government, they only believe in entitlements that show up at their own doorsteps, dressed up as well-earned rewards.

Consolidation. That was my goal in entertaining these two facts side by side. Cosolidation. Of Power. That's what the Republicans are doing, except not for all Republicans, just the regime inner circle. A conservative government is not enough. Oligarchy is the goal.

I invite you to read the text of the Articles of Confederation. It's a good read. And by the time you get to Article VI, you'll see why it failed: they wanted to have their cake and eat it too: State Sovereignty was explicit. Federal Power over them was implied. It's never good to pigeonhole your own power while giving jurisdiction in abstract, exploitable terms, to someone else. That's why, when the Constitution rolled around, the claim wasn't that the feds owned catch-all power, but rather that the feds stated their own power, only giving latitude to those explicitly subordinate.

The presumptive oligarchy in this country isn't about to assume only powers not explicitly stated by the Constitution. That's why they're out to change it, or gut it. Or silence the life's breath of it: the American People.

Look around at all the ennui. Look around at all the division. Look around at all the paradoxical support for larger government while stating they're for smaller government. Look around at all the tax "relief" being doled out like bubblegum from a parade float while spending obscene amounts on war. Look at all the nation building going on while idealizing self-determination.

Look at it.

Posted by Jeff at 12:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Joy may be ethereal, but pain is a thuddingly corporeal thing.

The Skipster is looped on muscle relaxants. The traps and the next are rigid, scream at motion.

I have always had a very high threshold for physical pain, whether that's an actual threshold (meaning I just don't feel pain so severely) or a logical one (I feel pain but I have learned to abide it). Quite an upside when you can just 'walk it off' when something hurts. The downside is that once the threshold is crossed, I basically fall apart, defeated.

I am at that stage right now, near to crying because matter is trumping mind, because the pain is so high there is no escape. Still, I am nowhere near annihilation fantasies. Tomorrow I'll see my doctor, the incomparable Lisa Capaldini, if I can snag one of her"emergency" same-day reserved appointments.

I look forward to seeing her, though my composure may simply, totally, collapse when I see her. She gets in, has always gotten in. And I have no defenses this time. Trust and faith run high between her and me, so I don't dread it, though.

Posted by Jeff at 09:06 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The rules: 5 lines, syllable counts in each line go 2, 4, 6, 8, 2. Harder than haikus, but there's a knack to be had.

Mythos
Quickly invoked,
Logos, coopted for
Political expedience:
Bathos

•••

"Hawkish,
strongly focused,"
is what they say of Bush.
"Petulant," I say, "and only
Mawkish."

Posted by Jeff at 01:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

If fortune favors the foolish, maybe Sam and I are just wiser than even we knew. Lots of small things and a few significant things that only really happen to people living in el mundo malo.

How'd we get there? How do we get back to el mundo bueno?

I seem to recall that you just have to breathe, to focus, and to face and not fear. San Francisco is supposed to have herself a big cry (read: rain) on Sunday or Monday. Perhaps we should both join her, then get the fuck on with the sunshine already.

Posted by Jeff at 02:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

No, not Ohio and the rest. I speak of the Swing States of George W. Bush's mind.

Remind me, Republicans...

• who counted on activist judges to get him installed as King President, then castigated judicial "activism"?
• who wanted marriage to be a state issue, until the states didn't do what he wanted?
• who opposed creating a Dept of Homeland Security, and then created one?
• who opposed nation-building, then decimated Iraq and installed a "democracy"?
• who said, unequivocallly, that we'd found weapons of mass destruction, then said we didn't?
• who said we can win a war on terror and then said it's not winnable?
• who opposed a 9/11 committee, then approved one?
• who imposed tariffs on foreign steel then, in less than two years, rescinded them?
• who called Clinton weak for not strong-arming OPEC, only to let OPEC run roughshod over us for nearly four years?
• McCain-Feingold. Nuff Said.
• who blurred the lines between al Qaeda and Saddam as a means of blame-shifting to support his war of error, only to admit last month that there is no connection?
• who criticized big government when running for President, only to effect the biggest expansion of government in decades?

Normally, I'd want to try to inject some humor into this, but it's just too damned important to fuck around with. The man is a menace to society, a menace to global humanity.

Spin that, Rabid Right.

Oh, hell, here's a humorous take on the subject if you haven't seen it. Just because something's important doesn't mean that seriousness is the only way to expose its dangers.

Posted by Jeff at 08:47 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I can almost....*almost*...understand how easily the Republicans get all rabid and frothing at the mouth at some of the stuff I post. It's hard to hear things that don't agree with your own dogma, especially when your own dogma takes active steps to limit your ability to abide a multiplicity of anything.

But these crazies who have swooped into this weblog, and especially into Sam's weblog—whew and lordy. Apparently there's nothing good about me, to this person/these people, from my stature to my spirit, from my scalp to my soul. Oh well. Prophets of doom seeking to profit from whatever misery they think they can concoct in me, or between Sam and me.

One day, I'm the bad guy. The next day, Sam's the bad guy. On any given day, the sad, sorry, anonymous crazies seem to find a fresh, newly-delusional scenario that is assuredly a perfect predictor of Sam's and my demise.

None will expose themselves because they're simple, predictable, predictably tedious losers.

You're not going to be any happier shortening the apparent gulf between my well-deserved happiness and your well-tended misery by making me/us miserable. If you think that's the same as being genuinely happy, you're brainless.

But maybe that suits: how heavy a head can a spineless body support?

Posted by Jeff at 09:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The screeching howler-monkeys seem to be winning, don't they? It's like the internet, in providing either anonymity or safe-distance, or, unfortunately, both, allows the unthinking to appear thoughtful just because they can form a sentence. It allows the shrill and unfeeling a chance to bark hateful things at fellow human beings without having to endure the consequences. It kills empathy and leaves sympathy dashed on roadside rocks. These screeders prejudice every argument with ugly names, classifications based on behavior that they themselves employ! [see: barking moonbat]

Such hypocrisy seems to be the way of things these days, doesn't it? Conservatives masquerading as compassionate. Christians howling with rage when violence fails to be employed against the sinners. Overspending and overtaxation being lauded by those who bear the brunt of it.

Blessed are the poor/meak/mournful/just/merciful/righteous/peacemakers/persecuted, right?

Such irony seems to be lost on the multitude of the multiplicitous, doesn't it? The poor supporting the party that wants corporations and the already-rich to thrive at their expense. The meek, called weak and feckless by armchair idiots for a "Strong America". The mournful who, if they are not American, are said to deserve what they get. The just, who are told loudly that it's really revenge they should demand. The merciful who are called spineless by those who look at mercy as a one-way phenomenon aimed properly only at themselves. The righteous, who, clean of heart, are not to be trusted by those who gave up hope, gave up vision and gave up independence a long long time ago. The peacemakers, who are laughed away as impotent by those who would shrink to nothing if their guns were taken away. The persecuted, who are stripped naked and pointed at and laughed at and humiliated by those who cower when a harsh accusatory light is shone on them.

Those are same people who laugh bitterly at heaven, who squat on the earth like they own it, who suspect anyone who offers comfort without the expectation of payback, who gave up on justice ages ago, who have no mercy for even misstep, who know deep in their rageful hearts that their Absentee Father in Heaven is a myth, whose vengeful hearts are emptied out on foreign sand, who would never put themselves in harm's way just to do the right thing.

These are the people who gave up on faith and traded it for a cheap substitute: dogma.

These are the people who attackAttackATTACK! because they themselves won't bear close examination.

These are the supposed human beings who have nothing to offer but a rape mentality who have nothing to offer but a Dog's Knot up your ass.

These are not human beings. They may wear the form of humanity, but they're the real killers, the real stalkers, the real danger in this world. They're the ones who have nothing to offer the world but the rot of their own self-satisfied isolation.

Rage on, King Bear/Gordon. Rage on, Geoffrey. I pity you. You all lost the knack of moderation, the knack of decency a long time ago. Your impotent posturing only feeds the rage that consumes you.

If I have engaged you in the past, as I engage you now, if I engage you in the future, I only do it out of frustration and to hasten you to the end of your dead-end path.

Posted by Jeff at 10:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

It's been a full week. And this time I don't just mean busy. On Tuesday night, I went to North Beach to meet up with a friend of my parents, Peggy, who's actually only a few years older than me. In fact, she told the waiter than I was her step-brother. She's a trip. It's always nice to hear different perspectives on one's own parents, especially when you have such amazing parents as I do. Of course I'm biased, but I never hear anything but wonderful things about Jack & Marie. They're characters, both of them. And get more themselves as time goes on. And isn't that really the point of living?

Of course we went to Caffe Sport. The only time I regret my perhaps overuse of superlatives is when I talk about Caffe Sport, because I feel like I need to turn the knob to 11. The Prawn Scampi al' Antonio is my single favorite food in my single favorite restaurant. Period. And you other San Franciscans out there know how many stunningly good restaurants we have to choose from.

Since Sam couldn't join me that night because of one of the thousands of concerts he's attending this fall, the consolation prize was that I got to take the Vespa out of the garage and tool over to North Beach. It made me want to go buy a bigger, heavier bike so that I could ride to work over the Bay Bridge on 2 wheels. Though I have a full motorcycle license, but I've never actually driven one (the Vespa is a 200cc bike and so required a full CA motorcycle license, not just the 'lite' license). I'd have to learn to shift with my left foot instead of my left hand (the Vespa's shifter is built into the grip-clutch handle: you twist it to shift).

Anyhoo.

This past Thursday night, FTP invited us to join him and Donovan for a birthday dinner for FTP's mom at Teatro Zinzanni:

Sam, me, Mother of FTP, FTP, Donovan

I wondered if Sam would get it, would be able to switch gears from our usual, favored caustic-wit style of humor and into the vaudevillian slight-of-hand, slight-of-mind style of Zinzanni, but he did, of course. There were lots of little jokes, little sight-gags, and some spectacular physical artistry. Our Chef, Le Chef Caesar (Hail!) was so goddamned brilliantly funny—especially when ad-libbing with dinner guests that he pulled out of the crowd (including Donovan)—that I suspect he's more than a little crazy. Or just brilliant. I keep forgetting the difference.

Both FTP and I got our heads painted, as you can see. The two big-round-bald-headed guys. Go figure. I guess the artist wanted larger canvases to work on. And as the Little Man put it, "on that big round head,that is one seriously fat lady." And FTP was the devil.

Apropos.

Thank Hey-Zeus that the artist lady didn't rub my head too much. One of the unexpected gifts of going bald: having my head rubbed. Mmmmm...rub it the right way, and I'll relax so much that I've fallen asleep. Rub it the other right way and, well, frankly, you're just going to have to put out for me.

Ahem.

So, the whole thing takes place in a spiegeltent. But its nothing like what you're thinking. This tent has a built-in wooden floor, built-in booths that circle the perimeter, and lots of stained glass. Apparently there used to be a dozen or more of these tents, but this one is one of the only ones left. It sits near the water next to Pier 29.

Yesterday (Friday) was a work at home day, but I did take time out for my much-anticipated straight-razor head-shave by the famous Joe The Barber. See the picture in the upperleft of this page (until I change it). Hot shaving gel; cold-cold steel against my scalp; hot barber man; hot boyfriend taking pictures and video. It was all I could do to not touch myself underneath the apron. Or did I? Ha.

Today (Saturday), Stork and I will upgrade my TiVo with a bigger HD and networking out the wazoo. Geeky yes, nerdy yes. Fun, only sort of. But it will be worth it.

On top of all that, we shipped an updated version of Ofoto Express. If you have the current final version of it, just run it and a sheet will inform you of the new version with a button that downloads the updated version.

Oh, and I started back at the gym this week—and in the morning before work! Shocking, I know.

Posted by Jeff at 10:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Sam got a most-excellent haircut last week, having settled on a barber through that old friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend thing that San Francisco does so well.

In the course of telling me all this, Sam mentions that his new barber uses a straight-razor for shaving.

So, on Friday, I'm getting my head shaved with a straight-razor by none other than Joe The Barber.

Oooooh, the antici------------pation.

Posted by Jeff at 06:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Microsoft confirmed on Thursday that it has suspended the beta release of MSN Messenger 7.0 due to a potential security hole affecting one of the program's features.

The security concern stems from a feature called "winks," essentially Flash-based animated buddy icons with sound effects that users can send one another. Apparently hackers can exploit the hole to send their own unauthorized winks to people, causing a "security problem" for the recipient, a Microsoft representative said.

Imagine the possibilities! Though I think the most popular themes would be penetration-animations-and-dirty-talk, and George W. Bush saying something typical untrue misleading stupid.

Posted by Jeff at 02:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Thanks to Jeanome for this one. Click on the image for full Bushie goodness! ....hehe, I said "full Bush".

Y'know, I kid the President, mainly because he has no sense of humor. That's capitalism, baby: minimum investment, maximum returns.

And seriously, I must thank President Bush for reminding us all that "Ninjas are cool!" They're what keep the Nook-yuh-ler family together and ward off homos!

Posted by Jeff at 11:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I've written about nationalism on here, and how it's just religion flying under the radar, the emulation of children by adults. Nick Lewis over at NetPolitik has his own take, beyond simple opinion. Go read it, and read the site (yours truly has posted on there occasionally).

Posted by Jeff at 10:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Change brings fear. Fear brings sameness. Sameness is something I'm afraid of.

Today I finished The Time Traveler's Wife. It came recommended by [proud new papa] Matt a long time ago. It took me a while, for no other reason that I don't have the time to even set aside the time to read.

I can't recommend the book enough. Audrey Niffenegger did a remarkable job of fashioning a true love story out of science-fiction-y material. In fact, there's absolutely no nerdy quality to the time-travel (and I know from nerdy!). There's no Jesus-y quality to the faith, either. In a real sense, Niffenegger acknowledges that the only thing faith and science have in common: futility.

People have it in common as well. Science informs us of so many wonders and yet our lives proceed incredulously. Faith will pigeonhole the wonders and post guards around that birdhouse, and people still proceed apace, taking in bigger-picture stride both the stygian and the splendid. Let's face it. Fact doesn't depend on science. And faith doesn't depend on fact.

I'm always affected by temporal distance in movies (such as Somewhere In Time), or in theater, when in Sunday in the Park with George, 1880s-Dot returns to visit modern-day George. The frustration of two people who should be together but who are not. Who must be together but can not. Who are together, even though they are not.

Futility is what they're facing...that same sense of futility that neither science nor faith can subvert, but which people find a way to render inert.

So yeah, these things get to me.

But then there's Sam, who throws himself into change, believing in himself and in me, and in us. Who depends on the science of pattern. And who won't let a little futility get in his way.

And if fear gets in his way, it will only be for a little while, and he knows I'm there to help him if he needs it.

Posted by Jeff at 12:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Today was the Castro Street Fair, the de facto end of summer here in Gay Ol' San Francisco. We attended the Stepford Wives Brunch, thrown by our good friends Wil & Steve & Noel (pictured). These are crazy-inventive fellows who manage to cook up the most amazing themes and costumes and, well, theatrics known to homokind.

This year's theme? The Stepford Wives. Over the past few weeks, I've been trying to figure out exactly how someone like me could dress the part. Nope. Nothin'. But when Sam and I walked into the Stepford Garden and saw the three of them (Hello, Bears!), I knew exactly what vibe I'd missed. That train had sailed.

So the party had all kinds of Susie-Homemaker prizes, with betty crocker recipes realized, served in compartmentalized trays. The metaphorical cloying icing on the cuppy cake was when Wil's, Steve's and Noel's Stepford Wives showed up with the real deal: cupcakes! Take a look! [Warning: it's a 23.5 MB MPEG-4 file. You'll need a recent version of QuickTime]. For those of you not in San Francisco, consider this a most blessed introduction to the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, one of the finest, funnest, most fabulous charitable organizations on the planet.

Thanks again to Wil, Steve & Noel. They're the best!

And congratulations (and infinite support) to My Little Man in his continued successes. I love that little bastard so much.

Posted by Jeff at 11:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

CNN's latest poll puts Kerry and Bush in a statistical dead heat. This, down from a 13-point lead (see Gall[up] polling) just three weeks ago.

All this, and Kerry didn't have to resort to, "And, Mr. Bush, what the FUCK is "nuk-yuh-ler"?

Oh, and by the way, I quoted two different sources for numbers, and polls don't matter, remember?

Posted by Jeff at 10:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Lobbing errant potshots over the wall of anonymity. Accusations of hurtful behavior by some human invertebrate. Gutless innominate.

Sometimes the internet is a moist, dark place that proliferates profligate organisms that even a fungus can look down upon.

Posted by Jeff at 09:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)