Make Goals Not War

From the Global Development Briefing this week:

LAST WEEK, we noted that a most unusual soccer game is set to take place in Haiti. Brazil, which deployed 1,200 peacekeeping troops in the troubled Caribbean island nation in June to replace outgoing U.S. troops, has already handed out 1,000 free footballs. Next month, the Brazilian national team is scheduled to play a "friendly" against Haiti. We asked what the price of admission to the football match will be and what Brazil hopes to achieve. Answer: the price of admission is handing over a weapon and Brazil hopes to help disarm rival Haitian militas, relieve tension and ultimately help prepare the country for elections by 2005. As reader Jim Anderson notes, Haitian interim Prime Minister Latortue has said that a few Brazilian soccer stars could do more to disarm warring militias than thousands of peacekeeping troops.

This has got to be one of the most creative solutions I've ever heard to the problem of gun proliferation.

Here's some more information on the upcoming match from Sports Illustrated.

Don't you think they could do something like this to disarm Oakland with a "friendly" between the Raiders and 49ers?

Going Back to Bukhara

The poor young journalist/ government critic - Ruslan Sharipov - for whom I used to professionally advocate - on Friday went to his mother's home town Bukhara to do "community service" and relinquish 25% of his nonexistent salary. This is in exchange for his freedom from serving a 4 year sentence on false charges under the Uzbekistan anti-sodomy laws.

He should have been unconditionally released from all charges, since they have no evidence, and he has refugee status and intends to leave the country as soon as he can. They want to get him to stop organizing people in Uzbekistan-- they should just let him go! He sent his mother away (she sold her apartment in Bukhara and packed up her one son remaining at home and moved to Sacramento, California this past December) because he feared for her life. The government threatened to kill her, and tortured him. So I don't think he wants to stay.

I can only imagine what their vision of "community service" might be.

Here
is the Reporters Without Borders press release that just came out today announcing his "community service" sentence.

Here is a June 15th "Advocate" article based on a phone interview with Ruslan from his most recent prison in Tashkent.

If anyone wants to write letters for him you can find addresses here.

Still Stalking

I'm sorry, stalkettes, for being so slack on my stalking of late. Since January I have been robbed twice, and since April I've gone to Russia (where I got robbed a third time, btw), got laid off (losing my health insurance), got my identity stolen, had my adopted grandmother die and *her* property stolen, got a new job, and since I got notice I didn't make it into grad school, I've gotten myself into an algebra course to try and prepare for another stab at the GRE. I am still bellydancing (and performing), managing a spoken-word production series, and learning Latin with a tutor. I'm also stalking the Giants and the A's, and trying to take part in the "Pride" festivities that come swinging at your head ever year in June. If that wasn't enough, I have a girlfriend, and a tabbycat, and they both demand time. So, you see, stalking for your sake, dear reader, has been limited. The goslings have gone neglected too, so don't feel singled-out for neglect.

The good news is that I now have ANOTHER job which accommodates stalking, i.e. has DSL and research opportunities. I'm managing two websites: ECA Watch, keeping track of Export Credit Agencies and their nefarious deeds and (I just found out yesterday) also the Bering Sea Forum. It is nice to finally learn how to spell "Bering."

I'm also working on stalking corporate puppets who use ill-gotten credit from places like ECAs to fund nasssssty projects like Sakhalin 2, a natural gas and oil plant that is still being built, but which is already causing a long litany of woes for the locals (a 22-point list, written by someone who used to support the plant, which I translated last week).

The new manager of the plant is someone who was *just* hired, and who has now had this waaay over-budget (by 30%) mess of a project, with overtones of illegality, dumped in his ickle British lap. The he sits, on a cold, Russian island-- a dark, isolated, fragile, seismically active, cold Russian island-- with the salmon choking in the debris from underwater drilling, the whales running for their lives, the locals blockading roads...

Anyhoo, I'm supposed to try to get a high seed for the web page describing him and his messy project on Google searches for "Ian Craig." I forget what this is called. It's got a name.

Well, I need to do it to this poor Ian Craig guy, formerly of Shell Oil Malaysia, formerly of Shell Oil UK, where he formerly worked for Enterprise Oil, a friendly little offshore oil corporation that got bought up by big bully Shell... and so he, with the face of a constipated croquet player, was led down the dark path to Sakhalin Energy.

So, if you want to help push the page with Ian's list of crimes up on the Google search results, please click here ("Ian Craig") or paste this URL:

http://www.eca-watch.org/problems/russia/iancraig.html

...into a link somewhere on your own web page.

Thanks for helping incite the sedition. You know -- as your mother use to say-- it's not going to incite itself!

In Memorium: Valentina Mikhailovna Dezelin (neé Stakhova)

b. February 23, 1899, the Crimea under the Empire of Russia
d. May 24, 2004, California under the United States

She lived four lifetimes by the standards of her time. She lived on three continents. She lost three husbands. She changed nationality three times. She survived at least four wars. She spoke at least four languages. She never left the church (Russian Orthodox or Eastern Orthodox), but the church often left her, including during the years a crooked, charming priest took her power of attorney and what money he could get from her, and nobody stopped him. The church also abandoned her when she went in a nursing home, never sending help, visitors, or comforting cards; most hurtful to me, after her death, a long-absent acquaintance from her most recent church scheduled her memorial and burial without consulting with me or waiting for me, her adopted great-granddaughter, and the person most and longest involved in her ongoing care. I returned from Russia on Thursday, and she was buried on Friday morning. I found out about the burial through constant phone calling, and made it to the church in time to place a kiss on her cheek before they closed the coffin, screwed the box into the hearse, and then lowered her into a Serbian Orthodox Cemetary hole while a nearby cement truck engine chugged an unrepentant proletarian drumroll.

Here's a memorial to you, and your namesake, Martyr Valentina.

You will always be remembered, you classy, tough, smart, amazing old lady.

Privet from Sir Novgorod the Great-- Russia

Pobloguju... I'm writing a little blog entry from Novgorod, Russia - Velikii Novgorod now. I have just reviewed with my good friend Sergei two years of his finds on the local WW2 battlefields with his friends, shovels, and GPS. Of late he's been researching the wartime aerodromes and airplane wrecks through interviews and photography around the area in the small ... I mean extinct... little villages around the battlefields. It is just amazing what he's found... including a German pilot, complete with rosary and glasses. The stories of the non-heroic behavior by Soviet soldiers, and the crazy methods they used to operate in the battlefields, as retold by old men who were 12 years old, hiding in the bushes around the aerodromes. He's been researching and digging up tanks and things since 1989, and boy does he have a collection...

Anyway, the jet lag and ongoing marathon of chai and blinni and vino and balzam and on top of that catching up with everyone has gotten me hollow-eyed and slightly dizzy with overwhelm. I haven't even made it to the local kremlin, for the full nostalgaic effect. My English is also slipping, but never mind, I had a double degree, I don't need that English degree... the Russian degree is serving me very well.

What's amazing besides what changes in 10 years since I lived here is what doesn't change. Someone puts on a little weight, but the personality stays the same. Someone else breaks his leg and turns into a person with a handicap (an "invalid" here) but he still has the same old drinking problem. Another gets uterine cancer and lives with a colostomy bag but she still works through all my grammatical errors and makes sure I understand why I need to correct that accent...

And the konjushnja, the horse stable where I rode here, has moved so that it is right next to where I'm staying... and the young people there are still jumping huge fences on huge gorgeous horses...

Don't worry, those of you who still read this and wonder where I am and if I'm coming home, I still have a return ticket and I intend to use it. I'm just very, very, very far away from San Francisco.

Poka,
SS

Good God Goslings!

The lake by my house -- the unique brackish urban estuary of Lake Merritt -- is presently gosling-rich.

There are three families of two adults with goslings in the number of 5, 9 (the eldest clan, almost showing adult feather color in their tails), and the youngest clan-- 19. 19-uplets. Today the 19 formed the shape of the shadow of an elegant old lantern-style streetlight that is at the southern edge of the lake. It was very hot. They were squished so compactly into the shape of the shadow that if the sun had gone behind a cloud (yeah, I know, California-- what cloud?!) there would have been an Installation of Streetlight-Shaped Pile of Goslings there on the beach.

I stood there staring trying to wrap my brain around this cuteness like a mushu pancake around a pile of filling when someone thought it was a good idea to run to the lake to drink a little brackish afternoon tea. The entire flock of 19 flapped its useless sets of wings and ran after the first thirsty one and then the installation was destroyed, and everyone was standing in the water a little stunned to be in the sun again. The parent geese didn't say a WORD. They were tired. They were hot. They walked aimlessly around at some several yards distance, watching me. If the kids wanted to run in a panic into the lake, that was fine with them. If I wanted to chase them in, so much the better.

Now, for some gosling research. I want to know how long they are little flightless balls of grey cuteness.

Here is where my stalking will begin: Coalition to Prevent the Destruction of Canada Geese

Ah, how the fall migration of geese will hurt this year...

Back in the Saddle and Stalking Again: Paul Reps' Arabic Name

I am finally recovering from the shock(s) of being laid off, having my car vandalized and burgled, and my checkbook used for $2300 worth of fraud. I'm revving the engines to go back to school, work, and Russia.

And Tassajara Monestary, for another workshop with Jane Hirshfield. She asks the participants to read a poem aloud to the group every day, and last time (two years ago) I read from the Zen poet I adore, Paul Reps. She thanked me for bringing Reps back to Tassajara. This time I want to bring some new, maybe rare Reps books so as to impress her even more.

Well, my e-bay stalking has produced a rare find: a 1938 text by him that is * in * sane * -- he is analyzing the meaning of names based on their * sounds *. It is new age before the start of the new age. He was 42 when he wrote it. What was he smoking in California in 1938? Had they invented stoner lifestyle yet?

So, he signed it "Saladin Reps" - and I assumed it was not him, but maybe a child of his or something. No, it was him. He wrote under the name Saladin Reps as well as Paul Reps. I have a whole new frontier of stalking! Unfortunately the only book I've found so far by Saladin Reps is $250.

Googling this mysterious name this is what I found:

Art and Buddhism: the Paul Reps Papers -- held in Los Angeles, where he died in 1990, at the age of 95.

Shine on you crazy Saladin...

Drowning My Sorrows in Light Beer and Baseball

The baseball season is arriving to seize me like the lifeguard in the breach. I've been floundering with my lost job and therefore lost financial security (two days ago), lost personal security due to repeated car break-ins (most recently a month ago, the third within four months), and a professional criminal contacting me in the guise of a police officer to confirm my personal information, and then taking my checkbook out on the town for fun and --apparently-- health foods and beauty supplies (Whole Foods and Sally's Beauty two recent targets of victims she's been defrauding for over two weeks now).

So, thank the gods for schmaltzy old movies about baseball. Especially "A League of Their Own." Here's a cool page with some of the real facts behind the movie:
Rockford Peaches - A League of Their Own

Their link to the baseball players charm school handbook is broken-- I'll go stalk it now.

Here it is... ...on the AAGPBL website!

I'm SO Moving to Slovenia Someday

Some early news from Geneva, where the UN Commission on Human Rights delegates are meeting March 15 to April 23 to discuss the world's human rights, including a proposal by the Brazil delegation to condemn discrimination based on sexual orientation.

Statement by His Excellency Dr. Dimitrij Rupel, Slovenia's Minister of Foreign Affairs, addressing the UN Commission on Human Rights, 16 March 2004

"One of the core human rights principles is equal treatment of individuals and prohibition of discrimination of any kind. It is through this principle that members of specific groups, which often find themselves in a precarious situation, enjoy protection of their rights. In every day situations, it is precisely those individual who need most help. The scope of specific groups comprises migrants, children, women, disabled persons, asylum seekers, refugees, ethnic and religious groups, individuals with different sexual orientation, conscientious objectors, people infected with diseases such as HIV/AIDS and many others. It is of the utmost importance to remedy their situation so that they do not suffer consequences due to their distinct status. The competent authorities should establish fair procedures, which would impede abusive and stigmatic treatment of any kind, and adopt measures which would protect their human dignity."

Now pardon me while I look around at the Slovenian Foreign Ministry's website looking for ways to improve my country...

Lifestyles of the People Among Whom I Was Raised
-- or, when "talking about their marriage" went terribly wrong.

This is a choice article clipped from the Watertown Daily Times this past summer by my parents and sent to me as part of a pre-Easter care package which included striped bunny socks that say "Make the stupid people shut up." As far as local Crime News clippings go, my parents specialize in husband-beatings, 25-cent petit larcenies, and "refused to stop yelling outside" charges.

Woman Faces Charge of Hitting Her Husband

DEXTER* [i.e. Northern New York, see my note] -- A woman who allegedly backhanded her husband in the chest was charged July 8 by the Jefferson County Sheriff's Department with second-degree harassment.

Deputies said Deborah J. Gross, 41, of 21018 Stone Road**, struck her husband, Allen L., 44, while at home at about 6:30 p.m. July 8.

Two days earlier, Mr. Gross accused his wife of trying to threaten him with a hammer and beating him with a pair of jeans. He said the two were talking about their marriage when she grabbed a hammer. He said he "lovingly" took the hammer away from her.

He told deputies that she then grabbed a pair of jeans and hit him about the head and arms with them.

* These touching events took place in Dexter, New York, about an hour's drive north of "Upstate," -- and
** at an address
10 minutes' drive west of where I'm from, which I affectionately call North Nosebleed

...Per City-data.com: the Dexter area is significantly lower than the state average in percent of people with more than a high school diploma, and even that is only 80%. As I sit here waiting anxiously to find out if I got into UC Berkeley's public policy institute, I'm enjoying a rousing/ vertiginous look back (down) at whence I've come. (Russians ask "otkuda ty?" -- "whence you?" -- and I say "neotkuda" -- "no-whence.")

Pretty much keeping out of jail puts me on par with some of our highest achievers. Like our journalists.

You gotta love 'em, they give the perp's full name and address. I mean, look at the place on the yahoo-maps link! It's got to be the only house for miles. I'm surprised they don't add the house color and significant lawn ornaments you might recognize. "Oh yeah, that's that pig-silhouette house!"

An Update: Resolution 137 Cancelled, Iraqi Women Breathe a Sigh of Relief

According to the Women Living Under Muslim Laws International Solidarity Network (WLUML), the introduction of the anti-woman Sharia (Islamic law) into the new Iraqi constitution was halted on February 27th by the Iraqi Governing Council (IGC, formed by the Paul Bremer-led Coalition Provisional Authority [CPA]).

Here is part of the March 3rd WLUML announcement's text:

A proposal to the IGC was submitted by Ms. Raja al Khazaai, an IGC member which demanded the cancellation of the resolution. Mr. Adnan Pachachi led the issue to a vote. The meeting was attended by 20 out of 25 of the IGC members. 15 voted to cancel resolution 137 and 5 members voted against, including one woman. Four members angrily left the meeting and went to discuss the matter with Mr Bremer.

It is important to note that the resolution never came into effect because
it had not been ratified by Bremer.

Ms. Raja al Khazaai, had submitted the proposal to the IGC following the
recommendation of the founding conference of the association that she had established called 'The National Council for Iraqi Women'. The IGC did not consider the second part of the conference recommendation that demanded that '40% of the seats in all institutions such as the Parliament,
government, etc. be held by women'

They go on to say that these details are not available in English-language press as of yet, so the WLUML site can only cite links to Arabic-language information sources like Aman, the Arab Regional Resource Centre on Violence Against Women.

Some Early Signs of the Apocalypse, and / or Signs of the Hopefulness of Humanity
...depending on your state of mind.

I think that the fact that Holiday Inn hasn't bulldozed this place and rebuilt something that doesn't make you want to roll around on the ground moaning is a sign of something... probably some high-level manager's denial of the end of the 1970's. But perhaps also someone's love for the ugly, dedication to preserving the flawed architectural choices of our forebears, someone with a quirky sense of humor... ... and keep in mind that the photo depicts its FLATTERING angle. Its BACKSIDE. The view from the street-- the main entrance-- the facade, if you will, is a huge one-story slab of corrugated aluminum with a big orange swoopy "girl-handwriting" style HOLIDAY INN bolted to it.

Another sign of something: the postal worker who sold me stamps this morning had taped to the top of her scale-- with numerous swaths of clear packing tape-- a small Valentine chocolate heart still partially in its purple foil "smiley faced heart" wrapper. It is hermetically sealed to her metal scale. A future generation will be able to dig up that scale from the earthquake rubble and eat that chocolate with no fear of spoilage.

It is my guess that one of her children gave it to her. I wonder about her relationship with her children, and if it's a good one. So, I consider this heart affixation as a sign of parental hope. That if she keeps that chocolate heart from being eaten, her children's hearts will be good, and available to her, even through the "but I'll DIE if you cancel HBO" years.

The last sign of something that I'd like everyone to consider is this: a very old woman about to get a pedicure with an extreme expression of delight on her face. This was seen in one of those typical manicure/ pedicure places that REEKS of chemicals. The workers in these places, all seemingly tiny seemingly Chinese women, usually wear white dust filtration masks. But no, not these workers! And their place is always full of customers, so they must get a LOT of exposure to chemicals. But this elderly white lady was not thinking about the chemicals. She was rubbing her bare feet together in plain view of the world, sitting right inside the plate glass window in the storefront. She looked right at me.. or was it through me? She was like a mannikin from a Twilight Zone episode, come to life and not yet fully clothed, plotting her next move as she waited for the chemically-resistant Chinese women to apply their Pedicure-from-Beyond. There was something renewing and yet oddly off-putting about this big white woman's wide anticipatory smile.

OK, back to the daily grind of waiting for the organization where I work to finally die.

My New Favorite Weirdness From The Land of the Rising Sun

I was shopping for a Hello Kitty tampon sorter (pencil cup, that is) as is my wont when I find myself in Chinatown-- this time in Oakland, where "China-town" is mostly Vietnamese and Korean people with plenty of Chinese and Japanese plastic oddities for sale, and what before my wondering eyes should appear but the merchandise promoting...

Pucca the tomboy and her eternal love Garu.

Of course I mistook Garu (the boyish one) for Pucca and assumed it was the story of a little butch dyke pursuing a little femme dyke. I swear you could not have convinced me that "Garu" was a "ninja." Or that the little girlie girl "Pucca" was a "tomboy."

Oh well, the sensation is over, but I still like the idea of the merchandising of a dyke-romance/ stalking situation. I mean every piece of Pucca/ Garu product says "A Funny Lovestory." What's funnier than a little cartoon butch carrying a sword stalking a little cartoon femme bathing herself in a jacuzzi (as is shown on one of the two tampon sorters-- uh, pencil cups-- that I bought for $2.75 each)?

Does Anyone Else Know That Iraq Passed an ERA and Ratified CEDAW? I Mean, Before the US Has?

I knew there was a reason I stopped listening to Laura Flanders' show on KALW in the morning--- it gets me all riled up before I'm even at my computer.

Today the amazing Ms. Flanders covered the issue of women's rights in Iraq.

I learned that years ago Iraq surpassed the US for supporting women's equal rights, at least on paper. In 1959 they passed a family law (Personal Status Law) considered one of the most progressive in the Middle East. It...

...protected women, favoring the woman as children's guardian in divorce cases. It also conditioned polygamy on the agreement of the first wife.

(according to Truthout.org.)

In other reading I see that it also protected the women from being divorced simply by the husband announcing three times that they were divorced. Also, women, if divorced, could stay in the house where they were living, and the husband would have to leave.


And now the US is helping them build a new constitution... and sift out the rights of women their old constitution protected. Women currently comprise 65% of the population (no doubt partly as a result of Hussein's external wars and internal security campaigns, expending the lives of more men than women). And while the two women appointed (by US officials) to the new Iraqi Interim Governing Council were out of the room, the council passed Resolution 137, a resolution which puts the slippery Islamic code of laws Sharia into force in place of previous family law, and so a resolution which...

...could give self-appointed religious clerics the authority to inflict grave human rights violations on Iraqi women, including denial of the rights to education, employment, freedom of movement and travel, property inheritance and custody of their children. Forced early marriage, polygamy, compulsory religious dress, wife beating, execution by stoning as punishment for female adultery and public flogging of women for disobeying religious rules could all be sanctioned if the Resolution is upheld.

...So says the NGO Madre in their statement opposing Resolution 137.

One of the people interviewed on the show was Yanar Mohammed, the founder of the Organization for Women’s Freedom in Iraq, who is currently receiving death threats for her public opposition to Resolution 137.

For some reason I can't find the Madre call for letters demanding her protection on the Madre website-- get the address for the US administrator in Iraq Paul Bremer and a sample letter here at the Occupation Watch website. You can also sign petitions in support of Yanar and against Resolution 137 here at the Iraqi Women's Rights Coalition website.

Now what is CEDAW and what does it mean that Iraq ratified CEDAW and the US didn't (and probably won't)? Iraq ratified CEDAW-- the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women, also called the International Treaty for the Rights of Women-- in 1986. They were one of the first countries to ratify it. The US has not and does not intend to ratify it. There are currently 175 ratifying states. CEDAW is not a panacea, but the fact that the US doesn't even want to show INTENTION of supporting global equal rights for women is truly shameful. We are the control freaks of the world, unwilling to sign any treaty or convention that might allow our citizens any rights above those supposedly guaranteed in our own national constitution. Now, it's not like Iraq was some haven of lavender-tinted feminist perfection, but according to Human Rights Watch, historically, Iraqi women and girls have enjoyed relatively more rights than many of their counterparts in the Middle East. And more rights, constitutionally, than women in the US! HRW continues-- "The Iraqi Provisional Constitution (drafted in 1970) formally guaranteed equal rights to women..."

Now where did we put our Equal Rights Amendment...? I remember seeing it around here somewhere...

The Equal Rights Amendment, first proposed in 1923, is still not part of the U.S. Constitution. 

(...says equalrightsamendment.org.)

Ah, yes, that's where we left it.

OK, So I Was Wrong--- There Wasn't Anything In There About Giving Up Your First-Born to Gavin Newsom

Here they are, in their officially scripted glory:

San Francisco City and County Marriage Vows
February 12, 2004

We are gathered herein the presence of witnesses for the purpose of uniting in
matrimony___________ and ________________

The contract of marriage is most solemn and is not to be entered into lightly, but thoughtfully and seriously with a deep realization of its obligations and responsibilities.

Please remember that love, loyalty and understanding are the foundations of a happy and enduring home.

No other human ties are more tender and no other vows more important than those you are about to pledge.

Please face each other and join hands.

Do you_____, take____________, to be your spouse for life?

Do you promise to love and comfort each other, honor and keep each other in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, for better or for worse and to be faithful to each as long as you both shall live?

Ring Ceremony

Place the ring on his/her finger and repeat after me to him/her.

I give you this ring in token and pledge of my constant faith and abiding love.

With this ring, I Thee wed (repeat)

Now that you have joined yourselves in matrimony, may you strive all your lives to meet this commitment with the same love and devotion that you now possess.

By virtue of the authority vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you,
spouses for life.

In All the Confusion...

A newlywed just posted this to a queer women's mailing list:

Was anyone on this list a deputy marriage commissioner at City Hall this past weekend, or does anyone know anyone who might have the text of the vows that were read during the ceremonies in City Hall? As we recapped this weekend, we realized that we can't remember them and we're wondering exactly what we agreed to!!

I suppose you didn't catch that part about giving the city your firstborn child, did you?

If You Want to Marry Your Dog, Please Keep It on the QT

I have made more notes on the big marriage fandango happening here in SF, but I can't remember where I put them at the moment... so I'll just share one thing: the stupidest anti-same-sex-marriage sign I have seen.

It was a photo on Yahoo News, a guy hiding his face behind the sign "I Want to Marry My Dog." (Oops-- they moved the photo.) First of all, who doesn't? And second of all, why are you telling us? Isn't that a little personal to share with the class?

In 1975 when a Boulder county clerk Clela Rorex issued a month's worth of marriage licenses to same-sex couples, someone else had the same overdisclosing impulse:

One outraged man came into town with his mare, Dolly, and asked Rorex to marry them. Her answer was no - at 8 years old, the horse was under age, she said.

That's from a nice interview with Clela in the SF Chronicle, by Suzanne Herel (Feb. 14, 2004).

Again, I say, who doesn't want to marry their horse-- honest, faithful, quiet, uncomplicated-- but really, people, it is oversharing to take your horse to the county clerk's office in hopes of a license.

Meanwhile, one of the weekend's best photographic depictions of gay newlywed joy: a bouncy butch on the city hall steps (Oops-- they moved the photo.).

And a few other stray thoughts while perusing the pictures of married people
If monogamous is being involved with only one woman, and you theoretically are in a negotiated/ open involvement, are you monogaflexible?

Good god in heaven, someone has devised a Tampon Angel Pattern.

I'm not sure what the effects of long-term unemployment might be on the craft-oriented individual: but for the grace of the gods, there may go I... to the feminine hygiene stash to get craft ideas...

The Funnest Civil Disobedience Ever

These are some scattered notes I made after returning from presiding over my friends' wedding (real wedding, legal, married, the whole 9) down at San Francisco city hall today.

---

Friday. I wear to work the velour leisure suit and plaid shirt: the mayor legalized marriage yesterday, why is THIS the day they call me to help preside over their (second) ceremony-- and their white and silver dresses make them a focus for the press-- I carry the train to cover my outfit

the injunction is denied across the street says the radio news reporter

lines of people like at the queer film festival-- cruising the line for friends-- down a long hall, through the rotunda area, over into the cafeteria, almost to the the back door into Civic Center-- red velvet rope-lined crowds of the merrily civil-disobedient

young and old, children in strollers

two men, 60-somethings, grey-haired & blurry-eyed, looked like they survived a lot / not expecting to survive to see this, no preparation, just "I do" and "I do" with a grey-bearded judge in black robes asking them to love and protect eachother as long as they both shall live, pronouncing them spouses for life under the top of the rotunda of city hall, hardly any witnesses, but everyone who saw in tears

the mayor throwing a reception for the whole city full of newlyweds. An enterprising chocolatier is handing out boxes of chocolate to the newlyweds as they came down the stairs, little red taffeta bags of chocolate to the attendings-- "you probably didn't have time to get a cake"

standing in line at the registrar's office -- someone jokes "what are you here for?" to the two women in matching white wedding dresses carrying bouquets-- I replied "where are the tax forms?"

Molly -- my old sexkitten acquaintance from the Coco Club/ Fairy Butch early days-- now a lawyer and marriage rights activist-- finally got to wear her dress for something other than a protest or a "domestic partnership" ceremony-- she and her little formal butch partner all over the front pages of every local paper (Phyl and Del not the most photogenic after 51 years together)

the Japanese mother on one knee adjusting her daughter's train, gilt on white, breathtakingly ornate, like an outtake of a scene in the Japanese Tea Garden under pink cherry blossoms, but instead in a swirl of people in city hall-- a heteronormative moment-- finally sensing within myself that "this is normal." I find myself cruising dress fashion and hairstyles.

a straight woman attending got on her cell to her mother-in-law, a dyke, to get down there and get married (they are open tomorrow for Valentine's Day)

the white 30-something short-haired woman hurrying barefoot across the shiny floor in a simple, short brown silk dress, carrying a bouquet of red rose buds, a child running behind her carrying a pair of high-heeled open-toed shoes

I see the butch bride standing for pictures is the drummer from the punk band "Frozen Chicken Patty," one of their attendings is a famous dominatrix... a dyke community moment on the steps of city hall, amidst reporters interviewing kids whose parents finally could get married

------ Other Unrelated Thoughts As I Perused the Gay Married People----
If heteroflexible are people not always just sleeping with other straight people, then are:
homoflexible- people not always sleeping with other homosexuals, and
biflexible- people not always sleeping with other bisexuals, and
transflexible- people not always identifying as other than their doctor-assigned-at-birth-gender?

My Latest Scheme for Self-Employment

Introducing:

Slam-o-Grams
"...for those not lucky enough to be dating a poet." (-- my girlfriend's idea, that slogan. Har har.)

Featuring...

Sinister performance poetry brought to your door to make your loved one's special day unforgettable.

Optional Features include...

A silent film in the background (i.e. a war documentary, or a Charlie Chaplin movie)

A conga drummer

Freestyling on the topic of your choice from our menu:
-- homelessness
-- methamphetamine addiction
-- public transport
-- codependency
-- sexual exploitation
-- high school reunions

    Have a Slam-o-riffic Day!

Please don't confuse my services with the valuable but VERY DIFFERENT Giantess Adrena's Slam-o-grams...

...where she wrestles the birthday boy (or girl) to the ground. [Says Adrena,] “I’m all dressed up in my wrestling suit. I turn my music on, grab the guy and belly bop him and I stuff his face in my boobs and I slam him with my pelvic pile-driver and knocker locker and then I put him on the floor and slam him. The finale is that I put them on the ground and sit on them and I spank their butt. I sit on their face, forwards or backwards. Then I put them in a headlock and hand the whip to their significant other.”