Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Congressional Aid

If you’re not sure what all the foofla is, it’s about sex. Presidential hopeful Mitt Romney’s Hair has picked Congressman Paul Ryan as his vice presidential running mate. Mr. Ryan has said the whole thing about gays wanting to be acknowledged as actual people and not fodder to make yourself feel good for not shouting “Fag/Dyke!” is a non-issue. Basically. I disagree. The rights of child molesters to work at day care centers, that’s a non-issue. The rights of stalkers to keep the objects of their fixations in a basement full of baby dolls and perfume? Entirely a non-issue. Two women or two men who just want to grow old together, maybe raise some smart kids, maybe enjoy the benefits and dignities our society affords those who value commitment in a land of screaming transience, a prime of which is recognized as “marriage” (sidenote: marriage – n – the blending of one with another), that, to me, is an issue when huge machinery is put into place to scream “No!” at them. As a black man (sorry, sir, that’s still an issue) who’s never harmed anyone I’ve still had that screaming “No!” directed at me and it’s a sound not unlike a soul being slapped to death. It is by no stretch of logic or imagination a good thing. So for you, Paul Ryan, to seek the benefits of television by saying equality is a non-issue —and I’m going there with it—for people you’re positioning yourself as the potential employee of (political office = representative of the people = make sure you fill out your time sheet, son) means either you think that what they have is good enough, or they’re not good enough for what “you” have. That’s a troubling notion, sir. So let’s talk about sex. And let’s be forthright. Two men or women attracted to one another just might lead to sex that the Puritans, God bless their fanatical tuckusses, would have to flagellate all thoughts of enjoyment out of their heads. The Puritans, like Reagan, still enjoy a vaulted, mythic status in the American genome, yes? The Puritan Work Ethic, Puritan Values, Codes of Conduct – all things I clearly recall being drilled into the wee minds trapped in history classes from grades 4 through 8. I won’t go into the fact that pretty much all the history we were presented with was a lie of omission so huge it’d do Loki proud. I’m more concerned with the inference that the mythical Puritans were somehow better than what we were in 4th grade history and are now. They were the kind of people who would see the whole “Should gays be allowed to marry” thing as a non-issue. End of story. Go chop that wood. You, I know you’re not about to go out in public without that hijab. Oh, sorry. Cross cultural thing there. Bonnet. (Perspective, sir, must be pliable to be of benefit.) I took one lasting thing from all those history lessons about the Puritans, and the Quakers, the Shakers and other early American white folks who wore weird hats: they were some scared motherfuckers. Couldn’t handle a damn thing without it being sinful unless there was heavy misery involved. Lord knows what they would have done in a Cinnabon; their little heads would have exploded at the sinful goodness even as they smeared sticky cinnamon on their naked bodies in defiant abandon. I’ve been there, both to Cinnabon and defiant abandonment in the face of the Lord; it’s a heady mix. The senses flare. Desires tangle and subsume. The soul implodes, but from that implosion a new galaxy of experience bursts forth. That can be daunting on an individual level, but when it turns into group-think it becomes fear. Capital FEAR. Walls of repression form a thousand miles high and of hard-packed stone. And anything that peers through any cracks in that wall do so with the eyes of devils. That’s a lot of fear to carry. When sucking dick leads to mental hysteria, I’ll care. When clits and nipples become weapons of mass destruction, I will certainly care. When the gaze of a homosexual freezes a heterosexual to the spot and turns him or her to stone, I will care so hard I’ll get a boner. But I cannot, right now, pretend that any of this happens. And thus the consensual sex of grown folks does not matter to me. It does not matter to the notion of marriage. Doesn’t damage it one bit. There’s your non-issue. The big, honking, red-alert, shields failing, Captain Kirk to the bridge issue is thinking full equality, in this instance, should not apply. ‘Cause if I ask you why, you don’t get to point to a Bible. Know your history, sir. Jim Morrison went back in time after a particularly bad acid trip and wrote pretty much every bible. You need to show me your logic. In high school I wasn’t a dumb kid. After algebra and geometry I came up with this theorem, one I’m proud of to this day: Given that angle A is congruent to angle C, and line DE is parallel to line FG, prove that the fall of Man is imminent by citing personal example. Show all work. I need to know, Mr. Ryan, that if it’s just about the sex why’s that so bothersome? Before we proceed with your application, let’s clear that up. Don’t want to go into a new job with unnecessary issues. ‘First do no harm’ is indeed a job requirement, brother. And if it’s not about the sex… what is it? By the way, I emailed this to your office. I'm thinking it might not get through to you. Peace.