Quick… What's the Answer?

Stacey Campfield recently introduced a piece of legislation to prohibit discussion of homosexuality in Tennessee elementary and middle schools. The bill landed in the sub-committee of a committee of some other committee, you know – the one which meets in a dark secret room in the basement of some state building, where these bills are sent to die without ever seeing the light of day. Ah well, it was just the House Education K-12 Subcommittee. Point is this bill had about as much chance of surviving as Frosty two miles outside Hell.

Campfield said the ban is not anti-gay: but intended to place parents in charge of what their children learn about sexuality.

I do not think that classes on sexuality should be taught to children under the eighth grade no matter what direction it goes. […] The topics of sexual orientation are topics best left to parents and guardians. They should be the ones who decide what and when those issues are appropriate to discuss. Not schools.

I have a confession to make. Deep down, in the innermost recesses of my mind, amongst those thoughts I would normally never confess to anyone – I support this bill and any other bill banning the discussion of sex in the classroom but not just same-sex sex, but all sexes having any kind of sex with any other sexed sexes.

I would prefer if parents were allowed to determine when these discussions are appropriate. I, being one of those totally cool & hip moms, would probably have this discussion with my kids early – around age 20 perhaps. You know, if I felt they were ready.

Then, I wake up and I’m in the real world. In the real world, five-year-old Ms. Diva already knows there are same-sex couples because… um, well, there are same-sex couples.

Plus, last year during her 5th Birthday Sleep-Over Slumber Party, the Delightful Miss M, who is all-knowing and wears lipstick because she’s 7, informed Ms. Diva girls could marry girls. Technically, this means Cinderella could wed Sleeping Beauty.

Ms. Diva was shattered… shaken… her world tumbled upside down. She had trouble wrapping her head around news, which could alter every fairy tale she’d ever been told. What do you mean Princesses don’t always marry Princes and live happily ever after?!
She wasn’t being judgmental or intolerant. Heck, her Auntie Deanna is a lesbian. (Well, Deanna is a cousin, but in the South, we take the liberty of assigning our kin more appropriate seeming labels.) Apparently though, the lesbian concept doesn’t register until you apply the same couple composition to to Disney Princesses – at which time it becomes mind-boggling sh!t.

At some point, Mr. Smartypants wandered into the living room and announced girls marrying girls was illegal in the law of the laws – Uncle Lukey said. So, they go to prison for that.

A heated discussion followed. Finally, Diva slapped on the surly liberal-leaning girl attitude, which she most certainly inherited from her Mama, and yelled:

“Shut Up Liar-Face Liar-Pants! Can’t nobody be the boss of that! You marry whom’in you want to marry if’n you got a poofy dress. If you got a poofy dress and the Bible man, you can so too! So, you’re a big Fat Liar Liar! There, yeah so there! Liar!”

(Man, you’ve got to envy the enormous margin of freedom afforded to kindergarten discourse. I cannot count the number of times have I wanted to scream at various folks: “Oh yeah, you’re a big fat liar-pants!” Somewhere along the way, we matured into using only civil words… most of the time.)

When the girls started advancing on my 8-year old future Evangelical Conservative Republican, I entered the room to calm the lipsticked mob.

I tried to remain calm. I concentrated on all the vodka I was gonna drink when the party was over. I mean – my God, this was worse than the whole “How come I am penislessness?” question. (For the record, penislessness means the state of not having a penis. I’ve been assured this is a common question amongst little girls who’ve barged into the bathroom while their brother is taking a leak – only to realize he has something she doesn’t have, which may or may not be normal or even fair for that matter… and you don’t know until you ask.)

I answered the questions in a straightforward and concise manner. No elaborating. I told them: “Yes, girls can marry girls. No, they cannot go to jail. Girls can live with Girls in the same house like mommies and daddies do, but the President Guy says it doesn’t count as being married because they’re both girls.”

Hell yeah, I blamed George Bush. He’s taken credit for so much confusion, laying on this on him wasn’t going to make a big difference.

“No, I don’t know if girls married to girls share their fruit snacks and eyeshadow- probably, I guess. No, there is no law saying you must wear a poofy dress to get married. I don’t know why. There’s just not. Because not everyone wants to get married in a poofy dress. ”

The discussion veered off in 24 different directions, landing finally on how all the girls had Days of the Week Bloomers and wore them on the wrong days, which is some brand hilarious I’ve gotten to old to appreciate. And I was an utter fool because I thought this was the end of the discussion.

Yesterday, on the way home from soccer practice, Diva announced she had figured out why the President Guy won’t allow same-sex unions.

There was that instant and acute discomfort which comes when grown-ups are required to talk about grown-up subjects with people they’ve recently potty trained. Then, I felt a bit of pride. If my kid had figured out the whole gay-rights conundrum, she’s smarter than I am.

And I went on to give that intelligent type response that only a highly-intelligent, well-educated Mommy with a Masters Degree could give. “Uh… Umm… … uh… well, er…. oh, you uh… have?”

“Yes. It is on account of if girls marry girls, they’ll fight over who wears the poofy dress. Fighting is illegal. You go to the Principals office for that.”

“No Diva,” I said, “I don’t think that is it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, Diva.”

“Why then?”

“Uh, er, um, I, eh… ”

Quick… what’s the answer? Continue reading

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Barack Hussein Obama, Roger Clemens’ Butt and Other Important Issues of Our Time

This morning I stopped at the local beer joint to grab a cup of coffee. (I know it sounds funny, but the beer joint is one of the few places in town brewing JFG. Consequently, they get just as many of the local coffee drinkers as they do alcoholics.)

Anyway, I bumped into Backwoods Bob there. He mentioned he’d been monitoring the blog because he assumed I’d have something to say about the “Bill Hobbs Issue.”

(Bill Hobbs is a Nashville blogger and communications director for the TN GOP. In the event you have been living under a rock without internet access, cable TV or newspaper delivery: you can go here for a recap of the controversy.)

Backwood Bob thought since I am a “local Republican Obama-Defender” I’d “for surely” mention the issue.

(I should note I’ve earned the “Obama Defender” title because I send out Snopes links in response to those Obama is a Muslim emails. Folks assume I refute rumors about Obama because I support him. This isn’t accurate. I refute the rumors because if you hate Barack Obama, I want you to hate him for the right reasons.)

Anyway, here is my official opinion on the Bill Hobbs Issue.
I don’t consider it an issue.

Folks, our country is at war. Our economy is tanking. Our children are sucking toys chocked full of Chinese lead. I met a homeless fellow in Knoxville last week: I’d met him before because we attended college together.

My neighbors in the next subdivision over are as nervous as longtailed cats in a roomful of rocking chairs because the husband’s company may be shipping his production line overseas, making him a 48-year-old a displaced American worker with three kids to put through college and a mortgage.

Add to this, I don’t know if mankind contributes significantly to global warming but I do know Hawkins County hasn’t seen a decent snow since the late 90’s. So, I can’t go sledding and I blame AlGore.

Furthermore, the water is drying up. This has created such a crisis in the state of Georgia, the lawmakers there have gone mad from thirst and staked a claim on our river. This bothers me – as I have an Uncle who has threatened to shoot neighbors for messing around in his creek. Considering this is an entire river: he’s ready to haul heavy artillery to the state line.

Laugh now – but if the drought persists as predicted, this is going to get worse before it gets better. And what if Uncle C does manage to get his hands on serious military surplus? Everyone between Northeast Tennessee and the Georgia line could be screwed when he attempts to get from here to there with a short temper, road rage, weapons and a used Humvee.

Top this off with the fact that a growing majority of our population is becoming so increasingly frustrated over porous US borders and misled by the hateful rhetoric that good people are turning bad. Yesterday, I watched a sweet lil’ granny woman flip evil on a little Mexican girl, who couldn’t have been more than nine-years old.

I’ll tell you right now – the experience of seeing an 82-year old woman call a small child a Nasty Lil’ Illegal and lift her cane as if to strike the child was downright disturbing.  It irreversibly altered my opinion of this lady and disappointed me because I thought anyone with that many wrinkles ought to know better. If our reward for suffering the ravages of time and gravity isn’t that we gain large stores of wisdom and tolerance: what’s the damn point? Also, as I believe that being cruel to any child increases the likelihood that you go to Hell when you die, I think someone this close to the crossroads shouldn’t be dicking around with such meanness.

Perhaps, when she dies, she will dwell in a place where she shall eat only tamales and dance forever to the endless music of a mariachi band. I don’t know. It seems fitting.

As I see it, my family and the folks around us are facing some serious problems. Unfortunately, We the People have hit all-time pathetic low. I mean an ornery, malcontented, self-destructive, lower than a snakes belly button type of low, the kind which inspires folks to stab their neighbor in the back in order to prove, once and for all, their knife is sharper.

This lowness allows us to completely avoid discussing how to fix all of the aforementioned shit we’ve broken… and instead concentrate on truly meaningful political issues such as did Roger Clemens inject performance enhancing drugs into his butt cheek, did the New York Times have enough evidence to suggest McCain inappropriately shagged a lobbyist, which side is dirtier the left or the right… or we are just too wrapped up in our outrage over the heinous usage of a Presidential candidate’s full name.

Seriously? His middle name is unspeakable now? How is that going to work during the swearing-in ceremony? And considering everything else that’s going on, this all doesn’t strike you as a little bit crazy?

Look, Bill Hobbs is a paid Republican Shit-Stirrer. If I want to know what the right side is making a stink about, I’ll go read him. If I want to see what the left side is making a stink about, I’ll go read the Donkey’s Mouth.

Point being they all carry the same kind of big stinkin’ stick.

So, why is the entire nation suddenly shocked and appalled? Yes, the GOP dropped minor facts in a huge “fear-bomb” – but is this any different from the left-side pointing out that Ron Paul is supported by kooks and takes money from extremist groups, Mormons like Mitt wear funny underwear, Mike Huckabee probably bosses his wife around because he’s Southern Baptist – and ya’ll know how we do.

Nah, Democrats never play this game, do they?

I don’t like the whole notion that there are different rules for the left and right when one side is just as guilty as the other. And if my grandmother were in charge of national politics, she’d crack everybody’s heads together and force them to sit in one big giant lazy-boy chair until they worked it out and came up hugging.

Of course, that ain’t going to happen.

And it is possible that what I’m about to say comes from being cranky because I’ve been subjected to way too many presidential debates or maybe I’m irritable because my flu shot didn’t work and I still feel like crap. (Or…. there could be something to my theory that the entire population of the United States of America must be buying their bloomers three sizes too small, which explains why ya’ll are so dang contrary.)

But as a regular ol’ middle-class American voter, who could go either way at any time, I would just like to say: Barack Hussein Obama, Barack Hussein Obama and Barack Hussein Obama.

Let me also say: Barack Hussein Obama.

Umm, that’s his name, isn’t it?

Disclaimer: I’ve been asked to clarify all comments & opinions expressed herein are my own and NOT those of my employer, the Republican Party, Jesus Christ, God, the Southern Baptist Association or my Liberal friend, Mia, who fears that by posting this, “I might as well roll my ass in troll bait” and scream “sic it.”

Please understand that no cruelty to animals or disrespect for religious, racial, social, asocial, sexual or asexual minorities is intended. In fact, if you find ANYTHING offensive or politically incorrect on this page, this proves my theory that your underwear does not fit properly.

Of course, if this post pissed you off, feel free to comment or flame me in space provided below; however, by doing so, you agree and understand that you are adding your name to my list. Adding your name to my list is not an admission of guilt – and I am not sure why I’m keeping the list but I do reserve the right to take the appropriate actions against those people on the list, which may include but not be limited to exclusion from the Demarcationville Christmas card list, which doesn’t yet exist but might someday – and when it does, you won’t be getting any holiday greetings from me. Or you will – and if you’re on the left side, it will be a manger scene or if you’re on the right side, it will be a black Jesus with a balloon comment reading “Stop Putting Words in my Mouth.”

Also, by agreeing to add your name to my list, you also accept and understand than a an asterisk may be added to your name on the invitation list for our annual “Big-Ass Pig Roast Down at the River for Wingnuts and Moonbats Alike” and you  will likely be served cheap beer.   This offer is void where prohibited and valid and only at participating locations.

This supersedes all previous notices.

Also, please do not write below this line: the comment section is for office use only.

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My Resignation

When the issue of race pops up in politics or entertainment, I’m usually notified. I dunno why. Perhaps people wish to use my reaction to gauge the gravity of any given situation or measure level of offensiveness – but seriously, making me to racial references in the media what Mikey was to breakfast cereal is not a good idea.

Granted, I could build a mini-rainbow coalition in my living room. But the fact that I have a race and some relations doesn’t mean I consider myself an expert in this area: no more than I’d consider myself a gynecologist or preacher because, you know, I have that stuff too. Continue reading

Who'll Incite the Riots?

Jonah Goldberg and Glenn Reynolds have previously warned of the “social unrest” among “certain segments” of our population should Obama lose either the nomination or the election.

(If you happen to live under a rock and missed this, catch up @ TennViews where the Goldberg/Reynolds musings are dubbed “the newest bit of pus to ooze from the syphillitic fantasies of the Republican slime machine.” Oh c’mon, you’ve gotta love Andy Axel for that description.)

Anyway, I’ve given this a bit of thought. And I do believe post-primary “Social Unrest” is possible. 

I just don’t think will be related to an Obama loss. 

It is more likely that the source of unrest will be those lunatic Ron Paul supporters, as most seem to believe if you’re not a part of the Revolution, you are an evil tool of the establishment and a low-life a!@$ big @#&!)# who can just go #$!@ yourself.

See, they’re practicing already.

Reticence Speaks Volumes

Ray Snader at Citizen Tribune reports:

The judge (John Bell) who placed 16-year-old Jordan Kaleb Shelton in state custody told the late boy’s mother she should exercise her rights against the state to the fullest extent of the law.

Kaleb Shelton had been removed from his mother’s home earlier this year due to truancy. The teen was placed by private state-contracted agency Omni Visions, in the Morristown home of Ken Taylor.

According to the police, during a Nov. 24th altercation between Taylor and Shelton, Taylor grabbed the boy in a choke-hold. The teen lost consciousness and later died at the University of Tennessee Medical Center in Knoxville.  An autopsy indicated the teen died of strangulation. Taylor now faces a charge of reckless homicide.

Although Taylor and his wife have fostered approximately 12 children at their Pinewood Circle home since they became foster parents in 2001 through Omni Visions, reports are now surfacing that DCS may have ignored complaints and concerns about the Taylor family.   Internal records of complaints filed with DCS are not open to the public; however WATE News found records indicating that the Hamblen County Sheriff’s Department investigated Taylor for a possible assault on a different foster child in 2006.

Nevertheless – during the hearing on Thursday to dismiss the pending charges which accused the teen of being a runaway from a Blount County foster home, Bell told Shelton’s mother:

“My recommendation is that you get an attorney and file your appropriate action,” he said. “What I’m saying is to the fullest extent of the law, you need to exercise your rights in filing action against them.”

Shelton was concerned that she would not get back her other children who also are in foster care, if she filed legal action in connection with her son’s death.

“Is that going to hurt me?” she asked the court.

“Ma’am, that will have nothing to do with this,” responded Bell.

After having her child removed from the home and ultimately, dying while in the custody of the state – this mother fears retribution for holding DCS accountable.  How unbearably messed-up is that? 

 

Gettin’ What You Pay For

Today, U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission, in cooperation with Marvel Toys announced a voluntary recall of Curious George Plush Dolls Apparently, the surface paint on the toy’s plastic face and construction hat contain excessive levels of lead, which violates the federal lead paint standard.

Yesterday, there was another recall of Chinese-made toys, but this time it was not because of lead. Scientists found the toy beads included in the Aqua Dots set contain a chemical that converts into a powerful “date rape” drug when ingested.

The recalls are largely the result of the Chinese crack-down on toy factories – all triggered by reports of dangerous or faulty exports, including toys tainted with lead, toothpaste laden with an antifreeze ingredient, and pet food fortified with an industrial chemical.

How naive would you have to be to think China’s failure to meet US Safety Regulations is something new? In all likelihood, China has never consistently met US regulations and our children have been licking lead-based paint from their brightly-colored toys for decades.  The difference between then and now – the media is paying attention. As a result, toy manufacturers, who are concerned about product liability, are paying attention. The Chinese government, who is concerned about their export market, is paying attention – hence the “crackdown” and other efforts, such as you know maybe executing some people to straighten out their safety issues.

Meanwhile, American people are having a typical reaction.

“We’re all going to buy goods that are Made in America and nothing else!”

Riiight.  U.S. consumers love cheap goods. As long as the prices are low, we will keep trading quality for cost.  So, how long do you think this will last before it fizzles – again?