. . . And the End of Civilization As We Know It

Today is the day Florida's judicial stay on the enforcement of the declaration of unconstitutionality of the state's ban on same-sex marriages was lifted. It's convoluted.

Several years ago, along with a bunch of other red(dish) states, our legislature managed to work up enough of a paranoid frenzy among the insecure and easily frightened to get a constitutional amendment passed limiting marriage to the "traditional" one man, one woman format and besides, it's what Jesus wants. (Let's forget that "traditional marriage" as they defined it is barely more than a century old and for most of history was a transfer of property contract between men, and Biblical marriage was even worse involving slavery and polygamy (lookin' at you, Solomon!).)

Anyway, last year a federal judge, upon complaint from two guys wishing to wed in the north end of the state and two women in Miami, declared the ban unconstitutional under the federal 14th amendment which requires states to comply with federal law and ordered the clerks of the county in which the betrothed lived to issue the marriage licenses.

The state, in the full majesty of its official capacity, immediately freaked out and requested a stay of judgment to give it time to appeal the decision, which the judge granted.

Now, the thing about appeals is: higher courts are not usually required to hear them and, if they refuse, the original ruling, whatever it may be, stands. And no higher court, not even the Supreme Court where the extremely conservative Clarence Thomas was the justice who heard the request, agreed to take the case.

So the stay was set to expire at midnight last night.

And then the fun started. The state attorney general, still in full freak-out mode, declared that the ruling only applied to the plaintiffs and anyone else seeking a same-sex marriage could still be discriminated against. And the law firm for the county clerks' association warned the members that the clerks of all the other counties not covered by the ruling risked breaking the law by applying the ruling. So on New Year's Day the judge issued a clarification making it plain that his injunction against the constitutional ban applied to everyone across the state.

At which point some counties (specifically those encompassing Miami, Tampa and Key West) began celebrating, most counties began adjusting their forms and procedures, and a dozen counties in the deep redneck north of the state began contorting themselves to do the barest minimum mainly by refusing to perform any marriage ceremonies gay or straight on the logic that the judge's ruling applied only to marriage licenses not actual marriages. (At least they were smart enough to realize that continuing to perform straight marriage ceremonies would open themselves up to discrimination charges. And there are plenty of other options, both religious and secular, for couples to hold their services.)

And so, despite the trembling of the earth, rising of the waters, lightning splitting stone, and howling winds, society has not yet collapsed. And Florida is being dragged kicking and screaming right up to the edge of the twenty-first century.

Sign of the Times

Pulled up behind a truck towing an enclosed utility trailer at a traffic light yesterday. The back of the dark maroon trailer had a large headline that read, "Ten Simple Rules" across the top with the list appearing below in rather fine yellow print that was difficult to read without tailgating.

At first I thought the trailer might be a rental and the "Rules" were instructions for proper usage. As I eased up closer, however, I could finally decipher that small print and recalled where I was.

Ah, yes. Not "Rules." The Ten Commandments. Written in contemporary ("You must not . . .") rather than traditional ("Thou shalt not . . .") style. The trailer might still be a rental, though. Sometimes this place is south New York. Other times it's just deep South.

The Devil Made Him Do It

I was reading the dead-tree news in the library the other day (one of the benefits of living in a town/county full of geezers is that enough of them are technophobic traditionalists to support a viable old-fashioned news paper) when someone stopped just beside my chair and held something out to me.

I looked up to see an older gentleman, thinning gray hair slightly longish and in need of a comb, tallish, bundled in an old black quilted polyester ski jacket (it's currently 90F (32C) outside). He was offering me a small, oblong pamphlet with a dull red and black cover. He said nothing. I shook my head, no. He moved on.

It was a Chick tract!

I haven't seen one of those in years and I've never seen a human being actually distributing any although they must since I can't imagine how they get onto washroom counters and bus terminal seats otherwise.

I believe Jack Chick is still alive. If so, considering his anti-Catholicism and special feelings toward the Society of Jesus the thought of a Jesuit Pope must be driving him (even further) over the edge. At least the old guy wandering around our library was harmless enough. I don't know if he managed to give away any of  his paranoid, hate-filled comic books, though.

(Another) Sign of the Times

I pulled up behind a contractor's white pickup truck over the weekend. The company was named Savior Plumbing.

I can't tell if the name is a pun ("Save Your Plumbing"), a comment on how customers react to the service ("I can flush again! You're my savior!"), or an indication that He has branched out from his original occupation as carpenter.

Mom, the Anarcho-Libertarian Philosopher

We just recently increased (doubled) the dosage of the Excelon patches Mom uses to slow the Alzheimer's and I think it's working. (The reason the patches start on lower dosages is because one of the side effects is "psychotic episodes"(!!) which we, fortunately, did not experience. Anyway. . .) I don't think any of what follows would have been possible before the patches.

I had the most interesting "conversation" with Mom the other day. She had become thoroughly bored with the game on TV so I turned it off. Her eyesight and attention span don't allow her to follow the games anymore and everything runs together and seems never-ending to her. (See Mom-sequiturs .)

With the TV off, she kept talking. At first it seemed like she was complaining about the no longer visible game. Her complaints usually run along the lines of "Who decides that (X) should go with (Y)?" And I explain that "X" is the game but "Y" is just a commercial and has nothing to do with who's up next or the current score. Or "Y" is a preview/review/instant replay. This time we went in a different direction.

Mom: I don't understand who makes these decisions.

Me: What decisions? (This is usually a bad question and most often I just ignore the opening.)

Mom: The decision about who should make the decision.

Me: (O.K., this is a little meta. Obviously, she's not going to let this go.) Different people make different decisions about different situations.

Mom: Absolutely! But we're not happy with what's going on. I guess life is supposed to be like that. Is one person supposed to be in charge of everything? We should choose our own way or leader and if that makes you happy, good! Be happy!

Me: (Are we still complaining about the composition of the TV program? These conversations seldom have a defined subject.) Are you asking me if I have any ideas, because I'm not sure what you're talking about.

Mom: (Laughs.) Live our own lives and don't pay attention to anyone else. Everyone do as he wishes . . . as long as you don't hurt anyone else. I'd like to see how the program ends.

Me: What program? (Surely, she doesn't want the game back on?)

Mom: What's good for you and what you should do. That plant out there in the yard, taller than anyone else. I don't see why that makes it any better. And you can get awfully tired discussing this because there is no answer.

Me: . . ..

Mom: If there is a particular item in charge, I don't want to know about it.

Me: (Item? I'm not sure I want to get into a theological debate this late in the evening.)

Mom: I like to think we're happier with the more people we know and are in contact with.

I agreed and went to get her another cup of coffee. By the time I got back the topic was closed. We changed her patch, did her eye drops, and she went off to bed. A good place to end it anyway.

Act of God v. Graven Image

So...,

Is this evidence of God's non-existance, that lightning can strike, with impunity, His devotees' object of veneration, or

evidence that He's real and pissed at the violation of His Second Commandment?