Pointing Fingers

Kids Who Kill Dogs

Not much to say about this loser that hasn’t already been said. The new rising star of the Republican presidential hopefuls is a former governor of Arkansas with a few choice attributes that make him the perfect Republican.

He equates homosexuality with pedophilia and necrophilia (perhaps an association made by spending too much time in Church), refused to retract his absurd 1992 comment that people with AIDS should be quarantined, and is one of those self-appointed soldiers for Christ, to whom the fringes on the religious right gravitate like flies to feces.

As revelation after revelation of the CIA’s torture policies under the Bush administration swirl with headline grabbing attention, Huckabee released a Christmas campaign ad in which he states: "…what really matters is the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ."

More disturbing are the stories surfacing about his son, demonstrating that his parenting skills are on a par with those of Rudy Giuliani. Aside from an incident in April this year where David Huckabee was arrested at a Little Rock, Arkansas airport after a federal X-ray technician detected a loaded Glock pistol in his carry-on luggage, it appears that Mike Huckabee involved himself in a childhood dog-killing cover-up, the details of which would make Jeffrey Dahmer quiver in delight.

In 1998, David Huckabee was unceremoniously booted out of a Boy Scout camp after, serving as an ideal role model as a counselor, he killed a stray dog that had the terrible fate of wandering onto camp property. So like a good old Southerner, young Huckabee harkened back to his history by literally lynching the dog by hanging it from a tree. Then, for good measure, he slit his throat and stoned him to death. According to Newsweek, the father of another counselor involved in the incident was quoted by the Arkansas Democrat Gazette in August 1998 as saying that his son found the dog "hung over a limb and choking."

Defending his son in an interview with Newsweek, Mike Huckabee responded: "There was a dog that apparently had mange and was absolutely, I guess, emaciated." Food and medicine, apparently did not factor into David Huckabee’s twisted mind. And it’s a small wonder mind you, given his propensity to eat. The Boy Scouts, more concerned in the long run with keeping out the gays, quarantine not being an option, rewarded Huckabee by later promoting him to an Eagle Scout.

Mike Huckabee, who, back in 2004, shed an impressive 105 pounds stated regarding his bad eating and exercise habits: “How could I get up there and say, 'People, we've got to do better,' when I was the poster child for everything that was wrong?"

While David, it appears didn’t get the memo, and looks like he could easily lose 105 pounds himself, Mike Huckabee’s divisive and un-Christian like lack of compassion continues to present him as the poster boy for everything that is wrong.

As President, would he do as fantastic a job for America as he’s done raising his children?

Hopefully we never find out.

My Tenth Anniversary!!!

In the last few months, I’ve been invited to a wedding, an anniversary, a baby shower, a baby naming, a birthday party for a two-year-old, a bat mitzvah, a bar mitzvah and an engagement party.

While these have all been friends and family, and people who I love dearly, I couldn’t help but think back to an old Sex in the City episode, where Carrie Bradshaw faced the same quandary I faced as these occasions arose. Each joyous occasion required a gift, some of them providing registries to make my gift-giving decisions that much easier.

As gay marriage becomes legal in more and more jurisdictions and a variety of methods allow gay people to adopt or procreate their own children, the fundamental issue remains the same. People make choices, and society dictates that those choices are rewarded in the form of lavish gifts being bestowed on the merit of those choices.

As one of the lucky invitees, I have been excoriated for missing certain occasions, and been forced to humbly apologize for failing to make an adequate effort to drop everything I’m doing in my life to attend and share in the celebrations of others.

I haven’t been in a long-term relationship, by design, for the last ten years. Since I generally believe that the best relationships last somewhere between four and eight hours, I couldn’t possibly count how many I’ve had, but suffice to say, I enjoy these relationships at least three or four times a week. The break-ups are relatively drama-free, and are usually on good terms, so much so that now and again, there are even repeats.

Unfortunately, this four hour rule doesn’t allow for the appropriate well wishing. There are no engagement parties, no weddings, no children and no anniversaries. Given the numbers, it would be horribly unfair on all my friends and relatives if I was to expect reinforcement in the way of gifts every time I began one of these relationships.

Since most people would qualify me as single, I began to think of the ramifications. My choosing to be single is a perfectly legitimate social choice. When I made the decision to refrain from long-term relationships, I forfeited the opportunity for my friends and family to celebrate my choice. There have been no registries, no toasters, no fabulous silverware, or any of the items that are usually given to help sustain a new relationship. As my siblings married, they were given gifts designed to strengthen their bonds, but really just saved them having to go out and buy a bunch of shite for the house. I never received anything, despite my household being just as plagued by bachelorhood, and just as capable of benefiting from many of the same upgrades, simply because I've chosen to avoid contractually binding myself to a long-term, supposedly monogomous nuclear family structure.

About fifteen years ago, I helped out my sister who had recently purchased a puppy, but was thwarted from giving it the appropriate attention owing to her work schedule. I ended up looking after the dog, and falling in love with her. She brought me more joy and happiness than I ever could have dreamed at the time, up until her passing earlier this year. However, she had needs, from babysitting to medical needs.

Through the years there were veterinary bills, grooming bills, (and her separation anxiety, which kept me at home far more often that I might have been otherwise). But when she turned twelve, there was no batmitzvah celebration (although admittedly, she wasn’t raised as a Jewish dog).

Whether this was the original intent, bat and bar mitzvahs, like confirmations and sweet sixteen parties, are designed to provide the youngsters with nest eggs for their futures. My sweet little dog, despite her sometimes naughty and reckless behavior, made it to twelve, and although there would be medical issues in her later years, she didn’t receive anything to celebrate her passage into adulthood, or provide her (or me) with security for what lay ahead.

My decision to remain unmarried and to not have children so far has had a significant impact on the environment. I haven’t contributed to diapers in landfills, nor consumed unimaginable quantities of detergents, water and energy had I used cotton instead. Because I haven’t had to drive my kids to school and extramural activities, I have reduced my carbon footprint, and have played a small part in reducing over-population.

As I’ve watched people who were, and remain, ill-equipped to rear children receive positive reinforcement for their decisions, from celebratory toasts to receiving deeds on houses, I have received woefully inadequate reinforcement, if not outright discouragement, for my decisions and choices.

In my failure to marry and rear children, I have pursued a career as an artist and photographer. My exhibitions have required insane amounts of preparation and are usually exorbitant in terms of production costs. They have taken me from San Francisco to Beijing, from New York to Miami. Yet the importance of these milestones in my life is no match for a child is turning three, or a couple who have remained in a boring, loveless relationship for fifteen years. How dare I expect anyone to drop what they’re doing in their mundane lives to attend the opening of an exhibition, when they’re preparing for their son’s baby-naming, for which I dare not fail to show up, or at least send a gift?

I have decided this year, to celebrate my tenth anniversary of being uninvolved in a long-term relationship, and for neither creating nor adopting children. I will be inviting family members and friends, across the globe, to join in the celebration, and will be registering at my favorite stores all the items that will make my life easier based on the choices I’ve made.

I’ve made it. Ten years on my own. My choice. And now I demand my rewards!