Constitutional Rights Should NEVER be a popularity contest

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The Daily Advertiser Blogosphere on Steroids

The “N” Word

With no aspersion whatsoever to any rabbit we know, this little video cartoon subtly illustrates the Jekyll and Hyde aspect of multiple personalities disorder.

Having Dissociative Identity Disorder (Multiple Personalities) is a clinical condition. Assuming multiple identities to hammer your viewpoint home and having them repeatedly validate one another by clicking “recommend” dozens of times, well, that’s apparent Narcissism with an evil twist.

How many narcissists does it take to change a light bulb?

There are two answers, which often overlap.

(a) Just one -- but he has to wait

for the whole world to revolve around him; or,

(b) None at all -- he hires menials for work that's beneath him.

For a thorough lay-friendly exposition about recognizing Narcissists, try this link:

http://www.halcyon.com/jmashmun/npd/dsm-iv.html#npd

There is a vast difference between those who have a healthy self-image and those who constantly display hallmarks of Narcissism. It takes a pretty good opinion of oneself for anyone to post our thoughts in blogs or comments in these digital pages. Most here have that healthy confidence that makes us interested in and respectful of the views of others.

The few “N”s here who assume multiple identities fool no one. They deflect when caught in lies, have a grossly exaggerated sense of the value of their own opinions and totally lack empathy. When called upon by their peers here to offer even the simplest apology when everyone else agrees they’ve displayed inhumanity, they ignore and only make more self-serving comments. To bolster their self-esteem the “N”s here create multiple user identities. This allows the Narcissist to pat himself on the back, comment on his own blogs, etc. Once he has created a dozen or more blogger personalities, he is then free to “recommend” himself repeatedly.

“…. it's possible to get along with narcissists, but it's probably not worth bothering with. If family members are narcissists, you have my deep sympathy. If people you work with are narcissists, you will be wise to keep an eye on them, if just for your own protection, because they don't think very well, no matter what their IQs, they feel that the rules (of anything) don't apply to them, and they will always cut corners and cheat wherever they think they can get away with it, not to mention alienating co-workers, clients, and customers by their arrogance, lies, malice, and off-the-wall griping. Narcissists are threatened and enraged by trivial disagreements, mistakes, and misunderstandings, plus they have evil mouths and will say ANYTHING, so if you continue to live or work with narcissists, expect to have to clean up after them, expect to lose friends over them, expect big trouble sooner or later. ”

End the so called "Don't Ask, Don't Tell"

Today in Gay History

BREAKING NEWS ~~

The U S District Court for the northern district of California, ruled today that California's Proposition 8 violates both the Due Process and the Equal Protection principles of the U S Constitution. The full text of the decision can be found HERE.

This L A N D M A R K decision will now wind its way through the appeals process. Pray that at least one activist Republican S Ct Justice (Kennedy?) will do the right thing by the law in favor of freedom. Otherwise the case will end in a year or so with the ROBERTS COURT 5-4 repeating the Plessy v Ferguson canard of equality.

One of those rare days where my people cry many happy tears.

Today in Gay History

HAPPY 86TH BIRTHDAY

James Arthur Baldwin, (August 2, 1924-1987)

AMERICAN AUTHOR OF ARTICULATE CHALLENGES TO RACISM AND MANDATORY HETEROSEXUALITY

James Baldwin, a pioneering figure in twentieth-century literature, wrote sustained and articulate challenges to American racism and mandatory heterosexuality.

The circumstances of Baldwin's birth were unremarkable: He was born on August 2, 1924, at Harlem Hospital in New York City to a poor, unmarried, twenty-year-old woman named Emma Berdis Jones. But his death sixty-three years later on December 1, 1987, at his home in southern France was an event reported on the front pages of newspapers around the world. Indeed, his journey from a difficult childhood in Harlem to his eventual status as a legendary artist with a large and loyal international audience constitutes one of the most compelling American life-stories of the twentieth century.

Baldwin is a pioneering figure in twentieth-century literature. As a black gay writer in a culture that privileges those who are white and straight, he offered in his work a sustained and articulate challenge to the dominant discourses of American racism and mandatory heterosexuality. As an African-American writer, he ranks among the finest. As a gay writer, he occupies a preeminent place.

Long before the Stonewall Riots of 1969 helped liberate the gay literary imagination in the United States, he boldly made his sexuality a vital part of his artistic vision. Even more important, by insisting on honest and open explorations of gay and bisexual themes in his fiction, he made a sharp break from the established African-American literary conventions. Through such a radical departure from tradition, he helped create the space for a generation of young African-American gay writers who succeeded him.

Today in Gay History

HAPPY 70th BIRTHDAY, REV. TROY PERRY
Founder, Metropolitan Community Church (MCC)

Born July 27, 1940

In September 1968, when he was twenty-eight, the Rev. Troy Perry put an ad in the Advocate announcing worship services for gay and lesbian Christians. On October 6, twelve people gathered in his living room in Los Angeles for what would become the Metropolitan Community Church, which now has over 300 congregations in eighteen countries.
Perry was thirteen when he preached his first sermon. His father had died when he was twelve and his new stepfather was violent and abusive to Perry and his four brothers. Perry ran away to stay with relatives in Georgia and Texas and began attending Pentecostal services, then entered their ministry. He married the daughter of pastor, had two sons, came out, was defrocked, divorced, and was barred from seeing his children until a reunion in 1985. He married his partner of twenty-three years, Phillip De Blieck, in Toronto in 2003 at the local MCC. The newlyweds sued California for their marriage to be recognized and won. When the State appealed, the ruling was overturned. Perry retired as Moderator of the church in 2005 and his successor, Nancy Wilson, was installed in a special service held in the Washington National Cathedral. Perry continues preaching, public speaking, writing, and fighting for social change .
The MCC’s history has been equally tumultuous. Less than two years after opening their Mother Church in Los Angeles in 1971, it was burnt to the ground by arsonists who were never caught. Fires have been set to MCC buildings seventeen additional times. A New Orleans bar that had hosted MCC services was torched fives months after the Los Angeles fire and thirty-two people were killed, among them twelve MCC members including the pastor and assistant pastor. Much more about the MCC’s history can be read here.

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Bonne Fete Nationale de France

H A P P Y B A S T I L L E D A Y

Today in Gay History

Stonewall's Anniversary

This post is entirely stolen from Joe.My.God.

It was June 27th, 1969.

The day that the fags, dykes, and queens of New York City finally said "Enough!" For some historical perspective, I'm posting the story that the New York Daily News ran about the Stonewall Riots. Note how the story drips with condescension and ridicule. We've come a long, long way in 41 years and we've still got some distance to cover, but today we should all offer up a shout, a snap, and a moment of thanks to the people who started us down this road.

HOMO NEST RAIDED - QUEEN BEES ARE STINGING MAD

-by Jerry Lisker, New York Daily News, July 6th 1969

She sat there with her legs crossed, the lashes of her mascara-coated eyes beating like the wings of a hummingbird. She was angry. She was so upset she hadn't bothered to shave. A day old stubble was beginning to push through the pancake makeup. She was a he. A queen of Christopher Street.

Last weekend the queens had turned commandos and stood bra strap to bra strap against an invasion of the helmeted Tactical Patrol Force. The elite police squad had shut down one of their private gay clubs, the Stonewall Inn at 57 Christopher St., in the heart of a three-block homosexual community in Greenwich Village. Queen Power reared its bleached blonde head in revolt. New York City experienced its first homosexual riot. "We may have lost the battle, sweets, but the war is far from over," lisped an unofficial lady-in-waiting from the court of the Queens.

"We've had all we can take from the Gestapo," the spokesman, or spokeswoman, continued. "We're putting our foot down once and for all." The foot wore a spiked heel. According to reports, the Stonewall Inn, a two-story structure with a sand painted brick and opaque glass facade, was a mecca for the homosexual element in the village who wanted nothing but a private little place where they could congregate, drink, dance and do whatever little girls do when they get together.

The thick glass shut out the outside world of the street. Inside, the Stonewall bathed in wild, bright psychedelic lights, while the patrons writhed to the sounds of a juke box on a square dance floor surrounded by booths and tables. The bar did a good business and the waiters, or waitresses, were always kept busy, as they snaked their way around the dancing customers to the booths and tables. For nearly two years, peace and tranquility reigned supreme for the Alice in Wonderland clientele.

The Raid Last Friday

Last Friday the privacy of the Stonewall was invaded by police from the First Division. It was a raid. They had a warrant. After two years, police said they had been informed that liquor was being served on the premises. Since the Stonewall was without a license, the place was being closed. It was the law.

All hell broke loose when the police entered the Stonewall. The girls instinctively reached for each other. Others stood frozen, locked in an embrace of fear.

Only a handful of police were on hand for the initial landing in the homosexual beachhead. They ushered the patrons out onto Christopher Street, just off Sheridan Square. A crowd had formed in front of the Stonewall and the customers were greeted with cheers of encouragement from the gallery.

The whole proceeding took on the aura of a homosexual Academy Awards Night. The Queens pranced out to the street blowing kisses and waving to the crowd. A beauty of a specimen named Stella wailed uncontrollably while being led to the sidewalk in front of the Stonewall by a cop. She later confessed that she didn't protest the manhandling by the officer, it was just that her hair was in curlers and she was afraid her new beau might be in the crowd and spot her. She didn't want him to see her this way, she wept.

Queen Power

The crowd began to get out of hand, eye witnesses said. Then, without warning, Queen Power exploded with all the fury of a gay atomic bomb. Queens, princesses and ladies-in-waiting began hurling anything they could get their polished, manicured fingernails on. Bobby pins, compacts, curlers, lipstick tubes and other femme fatale missiles were flying in the direction of the cops. The war was on. The lilies of the valley had become carnivorous jungle plants.

Urged on by cries of "C'mon girls, lets go get'em," the defenders of Stonewall launched an attack. The cops called for assistance. To the rescue came the Tactical Patrol Force.

Flushed with the excitement of battle, a fellow called Gloria pranced around like Wonder Woman, while several Florence Nightingales administered first aid to the fallen warriors. There were some assorted scratches and bruises, but nothing serious was suffered by the honeys turned Madwoman of Chaillot.

Official reports listed four injured policemen with 13 arrests. The War of the Roses lasted about 2 hours from about midnight to 2 a.m. There was a return bout Wednesday night.

Two veterans recently recalled the battle and issued a warning to the cops. "If they close up all the gay joints in this area, there is going to be all out war."

Bruce and Nan

Both said they were refugees from Indiana and had come to New York where they could live together happily ever after. They were in their early 20's. They preferred to be called by their married names, Bruce and Nan.

"I don't like your paper," Nan lisped matter-of-factly. "It's anti-fag and pro-cop."

"I'll bet you didn't see what they did to the Stonewall. Did the pigs tell you that they smashed everything in sight? Did you ask them why they stole money out of the cash register and then smashed it with a sledge hammer? Did you ask them why it took them two years to discover that the Stonewall didn't have a liquor license."

Bruce nodded in agreement and reached over for Nan's trembling hands.

"Calm down, doll," he said. "Your face is getting all flushed."

Nan wiped her face with a tissue.

"This would have to happen right before the wedding. The reception was going to be held at the Stonewall, too," Nan said, tossing her ashen-tinted hair over her shoulder.

"What wedding?," the bystander asked.

Nan frowned with a how-could-anybody-be-so-stupid look. "Eric and Jack's wedding, of course. They're finally tying the knot. I thought they'd never get together."

Meet Shirley

"We'll have to find another place, that's all there is to it," Bruce sighed. "But every time we start a place, the cops break it up sooner or later."

"They let us operate just as long as the payoff is regular," Nan said bitterly. "I believe they closed up the Stonewall because there was some trouble with the payoff to the cops. I think that's the real reason. It's a shame. It was such a lovely place. We never bothered anybody. Why couldn't they leave us alone?"

Shirley Evans, a neighbor with two children, agrees that the Stonewall was not a rowdy place and the persons who frequented the club were never troublesome. She lives at 45 Christopher St.

"Up until the night of the police raid there was never any trouble there," she said. "The homosexuals minded their own business and never bothered a soul. There were never any fights or hollering, or anything like that. They just wanted to be left alone. I don't know what they did inside, but that's their business. I was never in there myself. It was just awful when the police came. It was like a swarm of hornets attacking a bunch of butterflies."

A reporter visited the now closed Stonewall and it indeed looked like a cyclone had struck the premises.

Police said there were over 200 people in the Stonewall when they entered with a warrant. The crowd outside was estimated at 500 to 1,000. According to police, the Stonewall had been under observation for some time. Being a private club, plain clothesmen were refused entrance to the inside when they periodically tried to check the place. "They had the tightest security in the Village," a First Division officer said, "We could never get near the place without a warrant."

Police Talk

The men of the First Division were unable to find any humor in the situation, despite the comical overtones of the raid.

"They were throwing more than lace hankies," one inspector said. "I was almost decapitated by a slab of thick glass. It was thrown like a discus and just missed my throat by inches. The beer can didn't miss, though, "it hit me right above the temple."

Police also believe the club was operated by Mafia connected owners. The police did confiscate the Stonewall's cash register as proceeds from an illegal operation. The receipts were counted and are on file at the division headquarters. The warrant was served and the establishment closed on the grounds it was an illegal membership club with no license, and no license to serve liquor.

The police are sure of one thing. They haven't heard the last from the Girls of Christopher Street.

They sure fucking haven't. Now get your ass up and get down to the parade.