Even in the non-left-wing-rag news outlets, Sarah Palin's book sounds like the incoherent, victimhood-obsessed journal of a delusional 13-year-old girl.

So, we went out to The Ranch in .....somewhere in rural Pennsylvania tonight. It drew a surprising crowd, and I'm feeling all existential about it, but I'm feeling too frustrated by twofinger typing on the iPhone to go into great depth about it.

Suffice it to say, it was illuminating and thought-provoking at the same time. And there was a ridiculous amount of pretty things to see, which never hurts.

I'll probably write more later when I can type at a less frustrating speed.

Cross-posted from FaceBook:

Recently, the Roman Catholic archdiocesan administration of Washington, DC, made it known to the world that, should DC become a place where same-sex marriage is allowed, they would be so overcome with grief and so burdened with prayer and fasting that they would not be able to fulfill the responsibilities they'd taken on of feeding and housing some of the city's homeless. Or something like that.

My motto has long been What do your religious beliefs have to do with my rights as a citizen? There's a FaceBook fan page dedicated to revoking tax protections for politically active churches, that lots of my friends are joining. I, too, joined, but upon reflection, I un-joined. Here are some thoughts on the matter, some my own, some borrowed from others.

First, our own (meaning us liberals--and I'm proud to call myself one) anger over political or judicial defeats is a completely separate issue than some churches' inappropriate or illegal actions. I'm in favor of having churches that overstep their bounds investigated, but there is more to look at here. And focusing our anger at churches diverts our attention from other places that need attention.

Do we want to design and build a weapon that most surely will be used against us? Do you think the government would go after RC bishops telling the faithful whom to vote for first? I don't. Nope, the right-wing watchdogs would be ever vigilant for any hint of political content among what they think are left-wing churches, and for every message of love and respect there would be thousands of complaints to the IRS. And the squeaky wheel gets the grease, no matter who's driving.

No, I don't think any such revocation of tax protections would gain us lefties what we're looking for. Frankly, I can't see it flying through Congress. But it also brings up the question of whether churches should enjoy such protections at all. Do we want all churches to pay taxes? Lots of people I know say yes, but I'm not so sure. First, that would force all churches, right-wing or not, to cut back on badly needed social programs. We need those homeless shelters and those church-supported social workers and those church-supported hospitals. True, they could be supported in other ways, but they're not, and they're not gonna be. And, as a musician, I don't want to see church support for the arts cut back either.

Also, to borrow a point from omero_hassan, if churches pay taxes, they will be entitled to have a say. He writes, "...if they have nothing left to lose in this regard, and they can nakedly engage in the political process against us, we can expect to lose worse than we already are."

Our anger is perfectly valid. We have a right to it. But I don't think this is the way to express it. Yes, call out cases of inappropriate or illegal behavior, but let's also focus on political or judicial strategies for the future, and on working to frame public discourse about rights as actual discourse about rights.

--Today's massage from my boss in Bethesda? Fantastic.

Signs that a rubbin' is good:
--when you hear yourself snoring for about half of the massage and you just don't care.
--when the massage is ending and you think, "Holy crap. That was at least a two hour massage" and you see that it's only been an hour and five minutes since you got on the table.
--you can turn your head and not feel that twinge under your right shoulderblade for the first time in months.

--I keep hearing good reviews of that Fantastic Mr. Fox movie. The animation still creeps me out. But the "making of" mini-documentaries on HBO fascinate me. I have a weird love of watching actors do voiceover work. Particularly actors like Meryl Streep and George Clooney. She's amazing, and he's done nothing in the last 15 years but endear himself to me. I love his whole "Okay, I'll do a movie that makes an obscene amount of money, and then I'll make two movies that actually mean something to me and not really take any money for them at all," thing. It amuses me.

--Possibly related to my earlier bench press of 245....or not. I've been very powerlift-y with my workouts in the last couple of months, and I've gone down another hole in my belt despite not losing any weight. I'm on the edge of being comfortable in size 36 jeans again, despite being 40 pounds larger than I was the last time I wore them. Moob size, however, is staying constant at a 52. I suppose this is ....er, ....good, right? Whatevah. I'm exercising and eating in a relatively healthy way. It has to be good.

--And, er, yeah.

--Oh! And St. Anne Of A Fifth Of Gin A Day has been safely cremated. The hazmat team was successfully called in to clean up her exanguination (how does one spell that?), and the funeral went off fairly hitch-free. Her three children, Terri (the drug addict bipolar lady), Mandy (the one who managed to flunk out of OSU after getting a full ride academic scholarship and then was arrested for embezzling $120,000 from Big Bear) and Mike (the roid-head druggie who has, against all odds, turned out just fine.....although Mandy seems to be doing okay these days, too) mostly got along well. I hear there was an argument between Mike and Mandy at one point, although I'm not sure what the subject was.

The odd thing, though, was that she was cremated before the funeral. It was just a small chapel with a small box of ashes (Anne) sitting on an altar. I'm not sure who all was there, but I admit to some curiosity as to what was going on.

I dunno. I have quite a bit of what I guess is morbid fascination with my dad's family. I think I've mentioned before that we have very little information as to what went on. We do know, however, that it was a mess. I've written a bit about what we do know, but I think I'll have to eventually write down all of what I know. I can't help but be fascinated by the level of secrecy on both sides of our family. Honestly, beyond what I know of my parents' marriage(s) (and the fact that I'm supposedly a direct descendent on my mother's side of Nathan Hale, although I've never seen any evidence of either marriage or children. He died when he was 21, which was a good bit into adulthood at the time. Who knows?), I know almost nothing about my family. And people seem to be perfectly content to keep us all in ignorance. And Anne was the last of that generation on that side, so I guess we'll never know. *sigh*

Maybe some things are best kept that way. To quote my brother Tad, "I mean seriously. What, were they all sodomized daily with a red-hot poker? How did they end up like this? What could turn otherwise intelligent people into that?"

I suppose we can only speculate......and we will.

--So, I took the Metro to the gym this morning, because the car needed to be here in case the car insurance person came. He came JUST in time for me to miss him, but also early enough that I can take the car to my rubbin', which is in 50 minutes. So I should type quickly.

--Gym was good. It was my first time back since I was sick, and I just have to say this: benching 245? Easy. I could have done much more (it was three not especially difficult reps), but I figured I shouldn't push it too hard my first day back. I gots boobies. I know, plenty of people do more, but it's been a while since I've done that much, and it was satisfying.

--Stupid rain. I'm all wet. And not in the good way.

--And did I mention my rubbin'? It's in 47 minutes now, and I'm going to say, "Y'know all of those muscles attached to my shoulder blades? KILL THEM." I'm tired of them being tight. Not to the point of being debilitating, but still. Unfortunately, that's just where I carry my stuff. Always have. It's actually better since I started doing the rubbins, but still, an elbow in the levator scapula/upper trap area will turn me into a puddle.

--And on that note, my damp jeans and I are out the door!

Would you like to have lunch with Kate Mulgrew?

The Robert F. Kennedy Center for Justice & Human Rights is having their second annual RFK Center Holiday Auction. Kate has donated lunch for two with her in New York City. To place a bid on this item go to:

http://www.charitybuzz.com/auctions/rfkholiday09/catalog_items/997063

To learn more about the RFK Center and other items up for bid follow this link:

http://www.rfkcenter.org/home

Happy bidding and good luck!

Totally Kate Webmaster

So, apparently, the catholic archdiocese in DC has announced that if DC passes the marriage law, they will stop providing services for the homeless, as the law might make it impossible to continue discriminating against their gay employees while taking public money.

And really, who is the DC city council to be taking away one of the catholics' last legal methods of oppression?

To quote Kathy Griffin, "Don't pull your catholic kid-fucker bullshit with me!" Seriously.

And I've got other things to say, too, but I gots stuff to do.

I'm currently sitting in my parents' motor home, listening to the remnants of Hurricane Ida blowing past. Every now and again a particularly strong blast of wind manages to shake the coach back and forth. Reminds me of a camping trip we took when I was little and we had to flee into the vehicle we'd driven up in because the tent was literally about to be blown over by the wind that night. That's not a concern here, obviously, but it is a bit disconcerting when your "home" rocks with the wind.

Completely forgot to bring any snacks, or Adult Tang, so I think I'll be shopping tomorrow rather than this weekend. While I'm out in the wilds of Virginia I find it a good opportunity to hit stores I wouldn't normally get to, or get things that it's easier to haul home in the car rather than attempt to carry home via the Metro. If I can get out, that is. There's more than a bit of flooding going on here, which made the drive down interesting once the sun set.

I got to spend the past two weekends with Mike - I went up for Halloween in Salem with him, and then he came down this past weekend for Code and a visit. We continue to talk nightly, and haven't managed to run out of things to talk about. I head back up in early December to see him next, and visit Provincetown for the first time.

I'm thinking of taking a CPR course in late December. It would be good to know just in general, and also for my continuing work with our New Triathlete Program with my tri club. I'm trying to get myself back into "triathlon" mode, picking up literature I need to go over both for NTP and for my own training, and reinvesting myself back into a training mode that I've been out of since September's race.

Originally published at Of Moose And Men.

So, I got my haircut, and I was on my way to the gym when traffic came to an abrupt stop in front of me. I slid on some wet leaves in the road and v e r y s l o w l y rear ended the person in front of me. Fortunately, it really was very slow, and it just crumpled the front of our car a bit and did no visible damage to the other car. The other woman was (at least so far, who knows if she'll turn out to be one of those people who try to milk my insurance company for money) very nice and pretty funny about it all. She was a little tiny Thai woman, and get this: her last name? Mitradarmbidhaks. Yeah. I congratulated her on the longest last name I'd ever seen. She laughed her head off and said, "Ooooh, I know! I love to watch people try to pronounce it!"

So, anyway, boo. Shitty day. I haven't been to the gym since I got sick, and I was really looking forward to it, but I thought I should get back home to deal with the insurance people. Tomorrow. Yes. Assuming I'm not busy at work all day, that is.

I didn't get the person I wanted for the haircut, mostly because she wasn't there, so I ended up with someone who has done okay before....except this time she basically trimmed my bangs down to stubble trying to get them straight. I need to find a way to stop people when they start to do the trimming-across-the-forhead thing. On the other hand, she did the skin part down to the skin. The sides and back of my head are shaved bald, which I'm fine with. It's quite nice, actually. I kept getting the towel stuck to my head when I was trying to dry it after my shower.

And Claude keeps pushing his toys under the furniture and then grumbling about it.

In other news, the animation in The Fantastic Mr. Fox creeps me right out.

--Wow. Do I ever need a hairscut. Really. Really, really. One of the problems I have with going to barbershops is that you generally just walk in and get whoever is available. Some people wait for whoever they want, but I usually don't....and based on my last haircut, I really should. Really. And tomorrow, I will.

--Onoz, 2012.

"I've had two teenagers who were considering killing themselves, because they didn't want to be around when the world ends," he said. "Two women in the last two weeks said they were contemplating killing their children and themselves so they wouldn't have to suffer through the end of the world."

Y'know what? LET THEM. They're sucking up oxygen that could be used by someone who isn't brain dead.

--Also? I take back my dreams of having an IQ test requirement for voting. This jackass makes me think we should have one for GOING OUTSIDE.

--Oof. Busy day. And I'm a little pissy. Obviously. And the fact that I have this stupid cough lingering from last week's flu isn't helping. And neither is the fact that summer seems to have returned. I don't like that.

Good evening, my brothers and sisters in Christ! I joined recently and wanted to introduce myself.

My name is Sally, I'm 28 years old, and I recently returned to Christ after a long time away. (My story is a bit long.)


I'm glad I found a community like this! This is one place where I am not stuffed in to a double closet because of the combination of my faith and orientation.

Anyways, I am looking forward to being a part of this community!