Pointing Fingers

Peace Billboards

A Gay Agenda and Concerned Women

Oh, the predictability.

Just weeks after I wrote an editorial on my blog on the San Francisco Chronicle's website criticizing Matt Barber, of Concerned Women for America -- one of the first homophobic organizations to latch onto the University of California (UCSF) press release relating to staph infections (MRSA) as evidence of the danger of homosexuality -- he has retaliated by quoting from a satirical article I wrote back in 2005, titled the "The Gay Agenda"

In my recent piece on the grave missteps by UCSF, exacerbated by the San Francisco Chronicle and Reuters, I expressed how frightening and infuriating it was:

how much people like Matt Barber of Concerned Women for America (I know, the irony!), despise their own children enough to misinform them and lead them to believe they’re in more danger of being infected by coming into contact with a gay person than they are sharing a towel in the locker room at the Christian gym.

In fact, I was so infuriated by the misinformation in the UCSF press release, and related coverage, I urged the Vice Chancellor of UCSF, Barbara French, to meet with me (and fellow irate citizens Michael Petrelis and Hank Wilson -- See details of the meeting here.) Last week I was asked to testify before the San Francisco Board of Supervisors to report on the outcome of my meeting with UCSF and the meeting agenda I had constructed.

In a caveat accompanying my "The Gay Agenda" piece, I predicted this very episode by this very player:

Despite the tongue-in-cheek nature of this piece, it can, and likely will, be taken out of context, and used destructively by bigots and homophobes with ill intentions. From the other side, I'll be criticized for irresponsibly kindling the already raging fires by providing fresh fodder. I've already battled it out on the radio with Robert Peters from Morality in the Media, who appeared to have a peculiar fixation on the penis (hopefully not mine), and Concerned Women for America called me an obscene pornographer or something to that effect in one of their polemic press releases.

Like clockwork, although nearly four years later, Barber, whose column has been published on Concerned Women for America's website and syndicated by a bunch of like-minded publications, under the header, "In Their Own Words" took a few of the agenda items I had written totally out of context, stating explicitly that my article had been "candidly" titled. He referred to my satire as a "stark example of homofascist persecution" and to me as a "noted activist and pornographer."

What was that ninth commandment again? "You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor."

Either Matt Barber is deliberately giving his God the finger, or is too stupid to discern satire. Probably both.

The Gay Agenda
by Clinton Fein
http://www.annoy.com/features/doc.html?DocumentID=100722

Unmasking the Gay Agenda
by Matt Barber
http://www.renewamerica.us/columns/mbarber/080213
http://www.cnsnews.com/ViewCommentary.asp?Page=/Commentary/archive/200802/COM20080214c.html
http://www.cwfa.org/articles/14696/CFI/family/index.htm
http://www.catholic.org/national/national_story.php?id=26840
http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/1970179/posts
http://www.christianworldviewnetwork.com/article.php/3098/Matt_Barber
http://www.therealitycheck.org/2008/02/13/unmasking-the-gay-agenda/
http://www.michnews.com/artman/publish/article_19384.shtml

The Second Coming, A Second Time

I’m not one who is apt to repeat myself, but on the first day of 2008, the year America will finally elect a new president and – despite the lack of ideal choices – one that may just show a little more respect for not only the Constitution he or she is worn to uphold, but for American citizens, aliens (fabulous term, no?) both legal and illegal, and to global citizens who have a right to live each day without fear of being bombed, shot or tortured by the United States.

I wrote originally wrote The Second Coming: The Age of Bin Laden on September 15, 2001, four days after September 11th. The World Trade Center was still in flames, and America had yet to start a war against Afghanistan, let alone Iraq. Every awful prediction I made came to pass, far worse in some cases, than I had imagined. Foolishly optimistic, in 2004, I thought America would get rid of George W. Bush come election time. I was horribly mistaken. Perhaps reiterating these words from September 2001 in the forums available to me through San Francisco Chronicle's SFGate, as well as Annoy.com, Pointing Fingers and Daily Kos might wake some people up this election. Somehow I'm less optimistic this time round. To paraphrase, correctively, the misphrasing of our current President: "fool me once, shame on you..."

The morning of Tuesday September 11, 2001, began typically enough. Yawningly irreverent New York radio host Don Imus, (whose show is simulcast on MSNBC), was angrily denouncing MSNBC for allowing nauseatingly saccharine hosts Chris Jansing and Gregg Jarrett to knock him off the air anytime there was breaking news, rather than let him break it. Seemingly unaware of the high premium MSNBC places on youth. Clearly oblivious to the fact that a vast majority of Americans don't want some bitter, wrinkled, dried-up, ex-cokehead, surrounded by spineless yes men, wheezing breaking news between hits on his oxygen mask.

And then terror struck. Big time. In the worst terrorist attack in history, suicidal fanatics attacked the United States by smashing hijacked commercial planes into the World Trade Center towers, Pentagon (and potentially other targets, were they not foiled by passengers). America and indeed most of the world were numbed to the core by the horror and magnitude of such destruction.

Throughout the day -- and ever since -- repeated images of the horror looped and looped on every TV channel in every language interspersed with hundreds of heartstring tugging stories that reduce the most hardened of men to tears.

As the dust settles, literally and figuratively, we may well emerge from this a changed nation. Although not with the overnight hyperbole reflected by trite headlines stating as much before we had even had a chance to absorb what we were hit with.

Some things remain horribly the same.

While most American's were reeling, stunned into a shocked and disbelieving silence, the impenetrable roaches of humanity's refuse at its worst and ugliest came crawling out fast and furious, vomiting their hate and their anger like festering pus on gaping wounds.

Reverends Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson shattered their own decaying credibility by fanatically blaming the attack on abortionists, liberals, online pornographers and civil liberties groups, declaring that Americans got what they deserved. This, of course, while their fellow Americans - and a host of other nationalities -- lay dead, suffering and smoldering under heaps of shattered concrete and melting mangled metal.

Intellectually barren columnist, Ann Coulter, in a tribute to talk show partisan Barbara Olson that was about as sensitively timed and welcome as an untreated yeast infection on Prom night, suggested that America bomb the fuck out of whatever country was responsible. Children and innocent civilians be damned! And convert them all to Christianity. No doubt her perverted brand of Christianity that deems bombing babies nobler than oral sex.

'War is Stupid and People are Stupid,' Boy George once sang frivolously.

The governments waging them may be damn stupid too, but they are not that stupid, and not as stupid as we are, it seems. War allows governments to get away with things that are not possible in peacetime, where cooler heads and reason prevail. Using the word 'war' to describe something that is not a war, diminishes the notion of what a real war is and trivializes and mocks genuine patriotism. It threatens the very tenets of freedom. It allows for States of Emergency with unparalleled government powers from eavesdropping, surveillance and ex-parte motions to detention without trial.

'This is War!" screamed the headlines, TV networks and cable channels, and while we -- vulnerable in our pain, grief, fear and shattered sense of security -- wept over round-the-clock heart-wrenching vignettes of the fallen and their families played to the tune of the national anthem everywhere we turned.

While we mourned and watched and read and listened and cried, an anti-terrorism bill was drafted that rivals South Africa's most draconian at the height of Apartheid. Within just one week of the attacks. Not to mention an almost unanimous vote by both chambers of Congress (save one brave voice of Congresswoman Barbara Lee) to give Bush full authority to use "all necessary and appropriate force" against terrorists linked to the attacks and against those that sponsor them as well as a unanimous $40 billion anti-terrorism package.

America's worst enemies -- hypocrisy and its unrelenting media machinery that cripples our intelligence and goads us into thinking and acting like dazed sheep before a slaughter -- has done and will continue to do more harm to this country than Osama bin Laden or any other terrorists anywhere could ever wish to.

We cannot, as a response, simply bomb other countries with vengeance or blame people with different beliefs or ideologies. Nor should we grit out teeth through our tears and sense of helplessness and resolutely commit to revenge. A dogged pursuit for vengeance, whether framed as self-defense by ancient Defense Secretaries or resulting from a deep-rooted, visceral and all too understandable desire to punish by continuing along the very same path is explosively dangerous. All we can hope to achieve with such an approach is to add new recruits to the cause of terrorism and alienate public opinion domestically and especially internationally.

Before we embark on a war of retribution, like a frantic chicken with its head cut off running around in search of a definable enemy, we need to reflect. Big time.

What message we are sending when we impose sanctions on a country for nuclear testing one day, and then lift them so that the same country can help us attack or bomb an enemy we once befriended, trained and created ourselves the next? And to what extent might this just engender a distrust and hatred of America?

Some, more detached, have pointed out; the targets were symbols of American military might and economic prowess. The Pentagon and World Trade Center respectively represent the very essence of capitalism. Borrowing an American justification for the bombing of innocent civilians, and just as callously, some have referred to the victims as simply collateral damage. Indeed a shockingly insensitive euphemism. Why we should ask ourselves, was it so easy for us to stomach it in Baghdad or in Yugoslavia? Why then not in Oklahoma? Why not in New York?

We must question whether strategic national interests -- that have us bombing other humans to deflect scrutiny and accountability at home -- are either strategic or in our interests.

We must ask ourselves whether the multinational corporatization of culture that makes for stronger First World economies is worth the sweat and blood of children in sweatshops in the Third World.

We must reexamine the appropriateness of remaining silent while females are butchered at birth in China as Rupert Murdoch, Steve Case and their merry band of savages lay down the satellites and pipes for broadband to poison new minds with freshly sanitized, brain-anesthetizing content, and sell the population-controlled, surviving males new laptops.

We need to stop for a second before bedtime channel surfing between NASCAR and Howard Stern while dripping genetically engineered McDonalds burger grease onto our GAP sweaters, only to wake up just early enough and strive just hard enough to earn just enough to replace it with one from Banana Republic instead.

We need to pause before we tap our Budweisers in tune to a lecherous Bob Dole sitting in a darkened room transparently pawning Viagra in Pepsi commercials while watching Britney Spears flaunt her underage crotch in his face. And then mindlessly tune in to a two-hour JonBenet Ramesy special and wonder who killed her. And why.

We need to find balance, where criticism of Rudy Giuliani for his horrific record on arts funding is not ignored or suddenly no longer relevant because of the incredible sense of comfort and security he has been able to inspire in the wake of the attack on New York.

We need to still be able to vigorously condemn the horrific ordeals faced by the likes of Abner Louima or Amadou Diallo at the hands of corrupt New York policemen without negating or trivializing the admirable and incredible heroism displayed by brave men and women from the same Department that continues to give credence to the phrase New York's Finest in the wake of the attack on New York.

We need to parse information being fed to us by an amateur, stammering Press Secretary Ari Fleisher, (who remember, was fainting in anxiety and threatening the media during the tense furor surrounding Jenna Bush's underage drinking escapades), with the appropriate grains of salt and respect for freedom of information.

We need to learn to not confuse extremist conduct with necessary and strong criticism of policy or appreciation of an alternative ideology. Nor refrain from critical self-analysis. We must stop oversimplifying wide ranging complexities by lumping everything into an Us v.Them paradigm that leaves too many people cornered, scapegoated or unfairly branded.

We need to realize that the declarations of war, the political rhetoric on all sides and the sweeping tide of emotion and patriotism right now are potentially the most dangerous and damaging to our civil liberties if left unchecked and unbalanced. And the threat posed by our willingness to blindly trade our freedom for a heightened perception of security cannot be underestimated.

We need to question with apprehension Attorney General John Ashcroft s draconian requests for unprecedented law enforcement powers for investigating 'suspected terrorists' (however vaguely defined) that are being fast tracked through Congress without nearly appropriate enough consideration. And how the curtailment of civil liberties during wartime translates into Rumsfeld's ominous characterization of the 'war' that reads more like his biography. "It is a much more subtle, nuanced, difficult, shadowy set of problems." With neither a beginning nor end.

Now, more than ever, we need to tune in to people around us and tune out the sappy, obsequious corporate-controlled media instilling over-produced, high-tech fear into us by simply regurgitating the government's outdated war strategies as advocated by dying blowhards who peaked in the exact same posts in President Ford's cabinet four administrations ago.

Let's smell the Starbucks and realize that the stock prices of companies like Viacom, Microsoft, AOL Time Warner, News Corporation, General Electric, Disney, Vivendi, Alcoa and Halliburton are really the only thing anyone from the White House to the Treasury to the media touting this war cares about, not humanitarian values or the value of the information or programming that is designed to keep us ignorant and petrified while we cling to our flags in tears.

Such a violent and horrific attack not only showcases our vulnerability militarily, economically, politically and ideologically, but also robs of us of our families, friends and loved ones and very joy of living.

In spite of blunderbuss rhetoric and toxic media fallout, this tragedy has resulted in people coming together and reaching out to one another in ways no one ever could have imagined. A new, more informed dialogue has begun.

The greatest honor we can bestow on the people who died so tragically on September 11, 2001, is to simply wake up and pay attention.

Twas the Night After Christmas

Twas the night after Christmas, King George was still pouting
Low approval ratings, and Republicans shouting
His legacy dead, an irrelevant fuck
Like a “Bring Them Home” decal on the back of a truck.

Cheney, the dick, was nowhere to be seen
Punishing corporate entities that dared to be green
Condi incompetent, barely still in one piece
Like a half-hearted effort at Middle East peace.

Iraq still a quagmire, he felt a strong urge
To tout the success of Petraus’s surge
If not for the violence and political mess
No one could argue the scale of success.

So goddamn upsetting he wanted to cry
Or break a few laws, maybe eavesdrop or spy
On citizens, idiots, who thought they were free
Duped by “reporters” who wrote for a fee.

The flag waving patriots who’ve never seen war
Were clinging at straws like they had once before
Christmas Eve fun for the troops in Iraq
Their kids home alone, simply shit out of luck.

First Wolfowitz, Rumsfeld then Ashcroft and Meyers
Gone were the assholes that started the fires
Ridge and Alberto now just ghosts from the past
His legacy dead, for the die have been cast.

The Pope from the Vatican, spat the world is a mess
Clutching his swastika under his dress
Lamenting out loud that the world’s gone astray
From all the atheist wars and the marriages gay.

Alberto Gonzales, alone in his head
Watched reruns of 24 lying in bed
He tortured the dog and then tortured the cat
He couldn’t spread cheer, but he could give them that.

Clandestine prisons, extraordinary rendition
Waterboard heaven, such a perfect condition
Political cronies ensconced where he’d been
The fruit still unripe, damage yet to be seen.

Still King George was lonely, where was Harriet Meiers?
Or Scooter, or Brownie, or the rest of the liars?
Like once proud New Orleans, all he had was once good
Now blacker than the inside of a detainee’s hood.

O’Reilly sat gingerly, falafels he ate
With a war against Christmas still fueling his hate
Rupert was lonely with all in his life
His new news publications, his trophy young wife

Americans were wondering how it all went so wrong
Like a terrible cover of an overplayed song
An election was looming, all the choices were lame
The same old recordings for an unchanging game

Politicians did nothing as it’s what they do best
They reneged on their promises, failed their tests
They postured, and preened and they pointed and blamed
With photo-op sorrow for the dead and the maimed.

Economy was spluttering, Wall Street all aflutter,
Foreclosures, credit, their bread and their butter
Retailers crying, consumption declining
An energy bill, toothless, to stop Big Oil whining

Torture and tax credits to shelter the wealthy
Vetoing bills to keep young children healthy
To Jesus he prayed, as poor soldiers lay dying
God Bless America, he asked, but the asshole was lying.

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!

Unbearable in Sudamn

"She got a very light punishment...Actually, it’s not much of a punishment at all. It should be considered a warning that such acts should not be repeated."

Thus spake Rabie A. Atti, a Sudanese government spokesman referring to the conviction and sentence of British teacher, Gillian Gibbons, who was sentenced to 15 days in prison and a deportation. She could have spent months in jail and been lashed 40 times, after she allowed her 7-year-old pupils name a class teddy bear Muhammad.

Call me multiculturally insensitive, but isn't lashing a woman forty times just slightly more offensive than naming a stupid teddy-bear Muhammed?

On a similar note, an Associated Press report on the resignation of Richard Roberts from the scandal-plagued Oral Roberts University in Oklahoma, casually noted that God had told him to resign, just days after God told him to deny the allegations revealed in a lawsuit accusing him of lavish spending, including taking shopping sprees, buying a stable of horses and paying for a daughter to travel aboard the university jet on a trip to the Bahamas.

Usually people who hear voices are institutionalized. Roberts sounds genuinely disturbed and should be sent to a psychiatrist, not to an evangelistic healing ministry. How long will it be before we hear that God told him to molest the children he's off to heal?

People are entitled to whatever religious beliefs they want, but it's time to stop demanding respect and accommodation when lashing teachers and blaming imaginary voices are done in the name of religion.

Rupert and Rudy

He is as corrupt as the day is long. As he censored art he deemed offensive, innocent men were brutally tortured with plungers shoved up their asses. As he preached sanctimonious drivel, he carried out a sleazy affair with another woman in the Mayoral residence, while his wife and children slept under the same roof. His conduct toward his wife, his second, at the time was so appalling his son doesn’t even support nor speak to him. He represents the absolute worst of everything that stinks about politics.

After September 11th, where he was thrust into a leadership role for a couple of days as the President cowered in panic, he stole the goodwill borne of people who died in that terrorist attack and used and manipulated it for his own personal and political gain. It has all been said before.

The only word his name evokes is disgust. Yet he could just be America’s next President if American media has anything to do with it. And, tragically, it does.

In a scathing lawsuit filed against Rupert Murdoch’s News Corp., the hypocritical, family-values touting, sleaze media baron, who has tainted journalism the globe over, recently fired publisher, Judith Regan, points some damning fingers, and the Giuliani stench permeates its essence.

Regan was fired from HarperCollins on December 15, 2006 over anti-Semitic comments she’s alleged to have made, in addition to the controversial O.J. Simpson faux confessional, “If I Did It,” which was distasteful enough to cause a collective public apoplexy. At the time, Regan was so maligned by virtually everyone (including by me) that even the liars at Fox News, another News Corp. subsidiary tarred and feathered her, with none other than Bill O’Reilly leading the charge.

I didn’t pay him, so did nothing wrong
But a third party to whom rights belong
Goldmans, Browns, not a dime
But they’ll thank me in time
I bring closure to make everyone strong

As altruistic as Timothy McVeigh
Blowing mothers and babies away
Regan’s self-centered whining
And her impeccable timing
If she did it, it was for JonBenet

The lawsuit, however, suggests that Regan’s downfall was quite possibly a craftily engineered preemptive strike to discredit her, so that by the time she opened her mouth to reveal the things she has, no one would pay heed. They badly underestimated her.

Wikipedia sums it up perfectly:

“In November 2007, Regan filed a $100 million lawsuit against News Corporation protesting her dismissal. Her lawyer, Brian C. Kerr said, ‘We are fully confident that the evidence will show that Judith Regan was the victim of a vicious smear campaign engineered by News Corporation and HarperCollins.’

Her allegations include that she was ordered to lie to federal investigators regarding the controversy over Bernard Kerik, with whom she was having an affair, to protect Rudy Giuliani's bid for president. According to the New York Times, ‘The assertion that the News Corporation has sought to protect Mr. Giuliani appears in the opening page of the filing. The document later revisits aspects of the assertion without providing a full account of what is alleged to have occurred or how it might be substantiated in court.’

There’s no doubt about what kind of lady Judith Regan is. I’m certainly not a fan. To be working for Rupert Murdoch and fucking Bernard Kerik, she definitely ranks among the Linda Tripps and Lucianne Goldbergs of America’s tawdry history.

The issue at hand, however, is the dimension she adds to Rudy Giuliani’s repulsive history. Fox News has clearly placed its bets on a Rudy Giuliani presidency, and will do everything it can to ensure it, just as they called the Florida result for Bush in the 2000 election.

Maureen Dowd at the New York Times slyly contemplated a Hillary Clinton and Rudy Giuliani showdown as if their candidacies were a foregone conclusion. The more you see of this kind of story, be it print, television or the Internet, the more self-fulfilling the prophecy becomes. Polls start to reflect what people have been seeing in the media, and before you know it, a Clinton Giuliani contest is at hand.

Meanwhile, Giuliani’s response to the Judith Regan suit was to dismiss it as sounding like a “gossip column story,” and one not worthy of his response. That strategy might have worked for George Bush Senior when asked about his adulterous affair, but Giuliani might not be so lucky. For one, even his Republican opponents are already all over it, and more importantly, it’s not only a gossip column story, it’s a lawsuit alleging criminal conduct on behalf of News Corp. executives in the name of protecting the presidential ambitions of Rudy Giuliani.

It makes sense really. The smutty programming produced and aired by Fox coupled with the smutty lifestyle exemplified by Giuliani is a match made in heaven…or hell.

The only thing worse than a world run by George Bush and Dick Cheney, would be one run by Rupert Murdoch and Rudy Giuliani.

No Queers, Just Nooses

Idaho, No You-da-ho!

I don’t usually write about my sex life. But to all those who asked, or plan on asking me questions about secret codes in the wake of Senator Larry E. Craig of Idaho’s sex sting arrest in a Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport bathroom, from people who just assumed I would know, I thought I would lay it all out.

Let’s just say I’ve been around the block once or twice.

I couldn’t possibly count the number of people I have had sex with. Math was never my strong suit. I’m not bragging or strutting my prowess. It’s simply a fact.

I’ve done it everywhere. On a plane, in a car, on a beach, in a forest, in a park, in a parking lot, in the ocean, in a pool, in a hot tube, in a sauna, in a steam room, in a school toilet (I was a student at the school at the time).

I’ve had sex with a Fedex carrier, a plumber, an electrician, a painter, a mechanic, a yoga instructor, a personal trainer, a film star, a porn star, a politician and almost every other profession under the sun in almost every city in the many countries I’ve visited over the years. There have been twosomes, threesomes, foursomes, and fivesomes (and higher numbers too, but who’s counting?) There’s hardly a porno fantasy that I’ve seen that I haven’t actually experienced myself.

Yet even the times that I did it in a public place, the likelihood of being caught by anyone was slim to none. The thrill, you see, wasn’t about getting away with a risky situation, but rather unwillingness to deprive oneself of an opportunity that was presenting itself right there and then.

Maybe it’s just an innate sixth sense, but I’m pretty good at picking up what the score is. Even without the help of the Internet, (or travel guides before that), I can usually sniff my way around until I find the most conducive spot, where the attainment of my desire has the highest probability.

Perhaps this is why my friends assumed I would automatically know what happened to Senator Craig in the airport bathroom.

But in all my years, and uncountable encounters, never have I known about a foot-tapping code in a public restroom, nor the bizarre signal of sliding one’s hand under the stall of the intended, neighboring target. While I am astounded that Senator Craig seemed to be so familiar with the conduct he denies ever happened, it makes sense that a closeted person seeking an anonymous encounter would need to be familiar with such codes.

Who would have thought that there was something new to learn in the cruising for sex realm from an anti-gay, conservative, closeted, Republican senator? Why hadn’t I ever heard of nor encountered these tawdry mating rituals?

Had I been in the stall next to Senator Craig, I would likely have mistaken his foot tapping for impatience at his bowels for ignoring the pressing time restraints of his tight flight schedule.

Maybe it’s because I don’t need to do an elaborate, toilet-inspired tap-dance to get laid. It’s not that I consider myself unusually good looking by any means, but I do know what it’s like to be objectified, and to be desired for my looks alone, my brilliant mind, alas, having no bearing on the situation whatsoever.

Could it be that I don’t feel a need to conduct my sex life in the shadows, embarrassed over who I am? Maybe it’s because I haven’t half-heartedly taken sacred vows and fraudulently committed myself to someone who expects my shrill rhetoric about “protecting” families and hatefully embracing of “values” that “strengthen” marriages to match my conduct.

Yet gleeful as I am about the uncomfortable plight of an anti-gay politician, who doesn’t believe gays are fit to serve in the military (but fit to service him in the john), and as unconvinced I am about his denials, and his supposed “wide stance” that would have him “mistakenly” touch the foot of the man in the next stall (would love to see him demonstrate this seemingly acrobatic stance that would qualify him for a role in Cirque de Soleil) his arrest is disturbing because the whole purpose of a code is to determine a level of interest from someone who, by virtue of merely understanding the code, is likely looking for the same thing.

So when Senator Craig determined that Sgt. Dave Karsnia, the arresting officer, was not responding to the foot-tapping, either by foot-tapping back, or making some other gesture that demonstrated his interest, he should have had the common sense to quit. That's why there are codes, idiot! It’s that clouded judgment, along with immediately pleading guilty to make it “all go away” that suggests he is ill equipped to serve as a representative of the people of Idaho, let alone in any leadership role.

Since I would never find myself in the same position as Senator Craig, I tried to imagine what I would do from Sgt. Dave Karsnia -- the entrapper’s -- point of view, or if I was minding my own business in a bathroom stall and some strange, liver-spotted, gnarled hand swept across the underside of the stall. My guess is I would probably yank off the wedding ring, and walk out, making sure to flush first. Etiquette always.

But then again, if I was Sgt. Dave Karsnia, I would be too busy thinking about what to tell my family when they ask me how my day was, or what to tell my kids if they wanted to inform their peers what their father actually does as a “first responder.”

“Well actually I spend my life pretending to be taking a crap, hoping some desperate closet queen will tap his foot in the stall next door. And then, respond I do.” The self-actualization he must feel is heart warming.

I understand addictions and compulsions, and recognize that for some, seeking to satisfy these urges includes the risk of a dangerous encounter – like a public toilet at a busy airport. For me, there is no excitement in that sort of risk, just like there is no joy in trying to convert someone who is sexually predisposed to a different gender; no matter how attractive they may seem on the surface, or committed to pleasing me.

As I write, criticizing the players in this sordid drama, I’m sure my many critics will jump at an opportunity to condemn my immoral behavior, and the extent to which I indulge my hedonistic urges for what I term first-encounter sex (not to be confused with anonymous sex, which in turn is not to be confused with sex in a public place). While some will chalk up my promiscuity to my fear of intimacy, (many close friends already do) I prefer to see it as rather disenchantment with repeats or dissatisfaction with third encounters of the close kind. Metaphorically, to the extent that there are new, ravishing delicacies yet to be tasted, why would one keep on eating the same meal, no matter how good, over and over again?

Senator Craig saw fit to announce on the floor of the senate, that Valentine’s Day happened to be the anniversary of the first date he had with his wife Suzanne. “Am I a romantic? Well, maybe just a little bit,” he said coyly. One can imagine the romantic gift. Glade toilet spray?

"I am not gay. I never have been gay," Senator Craig doth protested defiantly following a news conference after the story first broke. A week later, as his adult children make the rounds on national television, defending daddy’s honor (and exacerbating mommy’s humiliation), proclaiming that his specious explanations had addressed all their “tough” questions to their satisfaction, Republican hypocrites like Trent Lott, Mitch McConnell, John McCain and Mitt Romney (to name a few) are now sweating like whores in a church at the prospect of Senator Craig retracting his “intended” resignation, and fighting to not only have his plea changed to “not guilty” but to retain his seat in the senate.

Senator Craig, who is up for re-election next year, will never be able to erase the screaming subtext from whatever façade he chooses adopt as a campaign theme or slogan, and politically and strategically will have no choice but to, once again, acknowledge who he isn’t and apparently never has been.

“Larry Craig for Senate 2008. I’m not gay; It's just my stance.”