You Selfish Fucks.

OK.

While I was pretty sure that the "Let's Write Homophobic Discrimination Into the State Constitution" amendment was going to pass, I really wasn't expecting a landslide. No, wait. In electoral terms, 58% is a land slide. 62% is a huge landslide. So, what do you call it when 74% of voting Texans decide that religious bigotry and sexual squeamishness are more important that equality and justice?

And there are all these great things I could say about religious tolerance being a bedrock of this country, about fucking Baptists being one of the first persecuted sects who found haven on these shores because Liberal pantywaists like William Penn were trying out this radical new "Separation of Church and State" thing.

I could talk about how my religious affiliation, the Quakers, recognizes gender-neutral marriage, and how that makes the "Welcome to Texas, We're Still Scared of Homos" amendment an abridgement of my freedom of religion--how it's the result of one religious group's success at forcing their spiritual view of marriage into the (supposedly) secular constitution of the Lone Star State, in direct opposition to my religious group's spiritual view of marriage.

And I could talk about how the whole fucking amendment was nothing but a huge base-consolidating exercise in demagoguery designed to whip the Theocrat activists into a frenzy. Or I could quote the inspiring Senfronia Thompson (D-Houston) laying into Rep Chisum (R-Jerkwater), the author of this misbegotten amendment:

When I was a small girl, white folks used to talk about 'protecting the institution of marriage' as well. What they meant was if people of my color tried to marry people of Mr. Chisum's color, you'd often find the people of my color hanging from a tree... Fifty years ago, white folks thought interracial marriages were 'a threat to the institution of marriage.'

But instead, I'm going to end up saying what I thought of when I was moved by a photo in today's Daily Texan. It was a beautiful little girl, about ten or so, in a pretty red blouse, and she was looking eagerly up at something off camera, leaning over her little brother and pointing so that he could see, too. It was a sweet picture, and it looked like she was pointing out Santa Claus or Grandma's airplane arriving at the airport.

But she wasn't. She was pointing at the big score board at our local Theo-fascist Suburban Megachurch, Great Hills Baptist.^® Her face was just shining with excitement, and Li'l Brother, although you could tell he wasn't really sure what Sissy was so happy about, was obviously caught up in the, erm, rapture. Of course, what they were looking at was the election results, and Sissy was all excited because those nasty homos were down by three touchdowns late in the fourth quarter and the Holy Spirit was heading for the goal line. Just another joyous victory for God's holy soldiers, praise Jesus.

But you know you can't blame Sissy and Li'l Brother: they're no more to blame than--and in fact, victimized in similar ways as--those poor little kids that you occasionally see in photos of Klan rallies (the Klan, of course, being another group proudly in favor of the "We're Still Pissed They Overturned the Sodomy Law" amendment).

And what occured to me next was that their parents almost certainly aren't really monsters, either. I mean, I know people like this. (I live in Texas, I'm a homeschooler, you do the math). My daughter's first Girl Scout troop included a girl whose mom wouldn't allow anything related to Harry Potter into the house. And as long as you don't talk politics or religion, they're nice, decent people. They take care of their kids, they watch TV, they worry about how to do the right thing, and they try really hard to return their neighbors tools when they borrow them.

But then, you could probably say the same about the Klan members, especially back in the 20s and 30s when they were at their height. Just a whole bunch of regular folk who happen to be willing to stand up for what they believe is right. Godwin's Law be damned, I think this is a perfectly just comparison.

Because the basic message is the same as it was in 1867, 1920, or 1954. We don't want "Them" getting out of their place because they're essentially inferior and inherently filthy. We can't have "Them" in our schools or churches, becuase God only knows how they might affect our children. We might not be able to wipe "Them" out, but we can make damn sure they are an oppressed minority that doesn't start thinking uppity thoughts about equality and justice and all that crap that's guaranteed in the constitution, but only to people like "Us."

And we all know that God is on our side, dammit.

So, here's what I have to say to Mr. and/or Mrs. Shackleford, members of the Great Hills Baptist Suburban Megachurch:^®

You have really beautiful children. Your daughter looks to be about my daughter's age, which is funny, because they're both named Catherine. It looks like she really takes care of her little brother.

I've been thinking tonight about what I'd like to say to you, and as much as my Quaker philosophy tells me to speak to "that of God" in you, I'm having a really hard time. Because this is what I keep coming up with:

You Selfish Fucks.

How fucking dare you, especially in the name of God, go so far out of your way to destroy families with parents just as loving as you, with children just as beautiful as yours? How dare you go home tonight, secure in the hundreds--or is it thousands?--of rights, privileges, and obligation that legal marriage gives you, knowing that you've helped deny those rights, privileges and obligations to people who love their partners and love their children and need those rights, privileges and obligations just as much as you do.

When this hateful amendment was still in committee, I volunteered to go testify during the public comment session. I'd spent a long time working on notes in preparation for my testimony, and it was all about the Quakers and William Penn and all that good, patriotic, God-Fearin' crap at the top of this essay. But when I sat down to dinner that night, it was all blown away in an instant. Because there we were, six of us--my wife and me, our kids, and the two daughters of our best friend (who happens to be bisexual, and her kids are just as fucking cute as yours), sitting down to big, steaming plates of pancakes together, and we held hands and had a moment of silent worship, as Quakers will do, and it suddenly all became clear to me.

This isn't about William Penn. It's not about religious freedom, it's not about equality before the law or the government staying the hell out of my bedroom. As I sat there with my daughter's hand in one of my hands, and her best friend's hand in my other, I looked around at the circle of warm, smiling faces, the table piled with dishes of good food, and the dense, warm, almost palpable feeling of love and joy in the air, and I realized that this is what it's all about.

It's about family, you selfish fucks. It's about arguably the deepest and most important relationship that human beings can enter into, and it's about the warm golden glow of sitting down at a meal with people you love and who love each other and knowing that this is a holy bond that connects you to these people forever.

And that, that, Mr. and/or Mrs. Shackleford of Holier-Than-Thou Baptist Megachurch,^® is what you are trying to deny to people across this state and across the country. That divine and warm love that I felt as I held hands in a circle with my favorite people is what you would deny to mothers and fathers and children and people who just want to love each other forever and ever amen.

And I ask you again, "How dare you?" Where in the bible does it say to seek out loving and beautiful relationships and destroy them? Where does it say that you get to decide who deserves to sit down with their legally-recognized family at night and eat pancakes and who doesn't? Where the hell does it say that if you don't approve of my partner's gender, then I can't go into the hospital room where he's goddamn well dying, because after sharing every single intimate detail of his life and his love for 28 years I'm not part of his goddamn family?

Well, fuck you. I'm sorry, Mr. and/or Mrs. Shackleford of Jesus Told Us Your Family Doesn't Count Baptist Megachurch,^® I try to be polite when I'm actually speaking to people. And, yeah, I'll be embarassed if you call me up tomorrow and tell me you don't appreciate my pottymouth insults, and hell yeah, I know that I'm sure as shit never going to change your mind with my obscenity-and-invective laden diatribe, but right now that's just too damn bad. My shrink says I sublimate my rage through this blog, and right now I've got a fuck of a lot of rage to sublimate. I'd really like to speak to that of God in you (as Quakers will do), but right now I'm so angry at you I could just cry, and I'm having a real hard time even recognizing that of God in you, much less speaking to it.

So tonight, when you're tucking Catherine and her little brother into bed, and you're kissing them goodnight, and you're enjoying the satisfied glow of a happy family at the end of the day, I'd just like you to think about how my friends Mary and Lena are feeling as they tuck their two adorable little boys in to bed tonight, and give them sweet little kisses, and then go downstairs and try to figure out why people like you hate them so much you don't want them to have a family.

You selfish fucks.