The Omnipotent Poobah Speaks!

Smiting the smiteable since 2005

I Am American!

I am an americanMost national holidays find me struggling with a post offering my own brand of snarky wisdom to my fellow countrymen. I usually pick a dysfunctional topic du jour or bemoan people having only a scant idea what they are celebrating beyond a BOGO sale at the local appliance mart. There is often a plea to save ourselves from ourselves by showing rare common sense and unity we can use to pull ourselves together instead of sitting in a hand-basket and arguing about where we’re off to.

Of course, those pleas go unanswered so I’m growing bored with them. After all, how often can you lead a horse to water and stick his head beneath the surface to make him drink?

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Gay Rights: A Fight that Cannot Truly be Won

""The Supremes have decided about gay marriage along very predictable ideological  lines and — if you’ll excuse an unfortunate metaphor — the butt hurt is strong in some. Some of my conservative friends are in a funk, convinced they are doomed to irrelevancy for eternity. Others are — again, excuse the metaphor — taking the intransigent “The straight shall rise again” approach. Neither of these positions are true and what’s more, neither of them are very cogent.

Gay supporters, forget the notion the fight is over. Gay marriage may now be simply marriage, but that doesn’t mean truly equal rights. Depending on the state, legally married queer folk can still be fired or have benefits denied. Systemic discrimination will live on. People who won’t live next door to “one of those” or that drop a vicious remark or intentional slight abound. They won’t go away…ever. People are like that. You can legislate discrimination. You can’t legislate human emotions, no matter how hard you try.

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Dear Mom, Happy Mother’s Day

Mom, circa 1977Next year I will be the same age as my mother when she died. I don’t attach any great significance to that other than it occurred to me in response to someone  else’s similar thought. It hadn’t occurred to me because I don’t often think of my Mom. As a rule, I don’t generally think about dead people at all. It’s not that I don’t miss her or that I didn’t love her, but she is gone; like Monty Python’s dead parrot. She is deceased.

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