Grand Old Party my Ass

I was listening to the radio the other day on my way home from work and this Republican moron was going on and on about the Easter egg hunt at the White House. Apparently, the Bush's not only allowed, but acknowledged same sex families in this Washington tradition.

These yo-yo's were going crazy.

"Can they not leave anything alone? Do they have to get into everything?" they said.
They went on and on about how is was a tradition for the kids and politics should not be brought into it (I guess he forgot where it was held) and that it was an occasion for families. "Families", he said, "families are not two parents of the same sex with a kid", he said. "Sex is for fornication, not recreation"he said. "If you can't produce a kid, you ain't a family." he said

Up until now it had been typical Republican crap, but the next one got me.

"God did not intend for people to be attracted to other people of the same sex"

Read it again.

Besides being ignorant, think about it. What does that imply? Does that imply that, according to this Republican zealot God has lost control of his flock. Surely, if he truly felt that it was such an abomination he would have made it impossible to occur. At the very least you would think we would have stopped it some how. But no, this guy is saying that it is God's wishes; will,for lack of a better word, that there be no homosexuality.... If that is so, why doesn't he just stop it?

Is he not all powerful? Did he not raise the seas? Smite cities? Plague peoples? Why then, if homosexuality is so disagreeable to him, do we still have homosexuals?

So when you go to the poles in May or November and you see the party tag next to a persons name and you see "GOP", remember that person willfully affiliated himself with people who think God is powerless to change things here on Earth. If God is powerless to change things, what hope have we?

To Every Season

I have been thinking about death alot lately. I have no desire to be dead, but still the thoughts have filled my mind.

It must be that spring is here. A rebirth can not happen unless it follows a death. The trees shed thier leaves in the fall and stand stoicly as if they are dead until spring, when they blossom into vigourous life. Daffodils all but disappear from the face of the earth in late summer to miraculously reappear in late winter to herald the coming of spring. The phoenix of the botonical world.

I sat today on my deck. A cool breeze was flowing through the high boughs of a tulip polar tree in my yard. I watched it gently sway in the gentle gusts and wondered about the spring that it first broke through the crusty soil. Year after year, it has perceviered. Through tornados and blizzards and minor earthquakes it has continued it's life with patience and grace. I just watched it.

My thought slipped away from me and returned with a memory long filed away. When I was a Sophomore in high school, I happened to meet a boy named jason Christensen. He was from a Mormon family that had just returned from a mission to Brazil. He sat next to me in Spanish class where he constantly mixed his Portugese with his Spanish. When they arrived in Brazil he had been a small boy and had become fluent in the native tongue. He played futbol with the subjects of thier mission and attended the local public school. He was a happy kid who loved the time he was spending in his adoptive home... until he got sick. About the age of 11, Jason was diagnosed with MS (I think). He never really ever told me, and I never asked. As his condition worsened, his family had to abandon thier mission and return home for better medical treatment for Jason. By the time I met him, the disease had already taken a hefty toll. He had to walk with a walker, his voice was crackly and often uncontrollable and he had little or no fine motor skills. Still, be persisted. Just like my old tulip poplar, he carried on. He was at school every day. He made his way through the halls and changed classes like every one else. He did the same work and he made the same grades as normal students. And though he became more bitter as his condition got worse, which you would expect from a 15 year old trapped in a failing body that soon took to collapsing during the class transitions, never once did I hear him complain. At the time I admired his grit, but in retrospect I recognize his heroism and courage. Sadly, Jason lost his battle a few years ago. His middle name was Pugmire.

The smooth flow of a cool breeze blows through the boughs of the trees and makes the high branches sway. My tuilp polar dances in the wind. It is as it has always been, a great cycle of birth and death. Both find us all, let us hope they are greatly separated and that happiness fills the divide.