Box Turtle Bulletin

UK Tories Publish “Rainbow List” of Out Gay Candidates

Jim Burroway

March 8th, 2010

Imagine if someday there were a similar headline for the GOP:

In the latest development in his campaign to show how dramatically the Tories have changed, David Cameron has published the party’s first-ever official list of openly gay MPs. The Conservatives say they have 20 openly gay candidates standing in the Election. Of those, 11 told party chiefs they were ‘happy’ to be named in the first authorised list of gay Conservative candidates.

…[Openly gay Tory MP Nick] Herbert said: ‘A successful political party ought to look like the country it seeks to govern. If we were truly representative, we would have 99 women, 16 black or ethnic minority and ten gay MPs.’

Startling discoveries about Lauren Ashley

Timothy Kincaid

February 26th, 2010

When the Pop Tart at Fox News first broke the story about how Lauren Ashley, the self-titled “Miss Beverly Hills”, opposed marriage equality, they played into her quest for that elusive minute and a half of fame.

Since then she’s been denounced by the city of Beverly Hills and pretty much anyone else with a blog and a sense of humor.

But now she has spoken with NBC Ch 4 to clarify that she does really mean that the Bible should be taken literally. And in the process sh revealed a number of exciting revelations to report.

There’s the discovery that Lauren seems not to be able to quote the scripture she “quoted” to Fox News. In fact, she doesn’t know much about it other than that it was “from Leviticus”.

There was the exciting news that in Christianity there is “forgiveness and receipt* from Jesus, himself” which gives new meaning to “be sure to keep your receipt.” But she was a bit stumped when asked, “if they get to know Jesus, can they remain gay?”

But perhaps the most startling revelation of all is that apparently, Lauren Ashley seems to only own one top!

UPDATE:

No, Timothy, no. Jesus doesn’t give a receipt, he gives mercy. Mercy.

Sigh. It was so much more fun when I thought she said ‘receipt’.

Will Gay Porn Becomes Chritianity’s New Recruiting Tool?

Jim Burroway

February 26th, 2010

We reported last week that Ugandan pentecostal pastor Martin Ssempa has been showing gay porn as part of his anti-gay campaign in support of that country’s proposed Anti-Homosexuality Bill. A columnist identified as “The Analyst” for Uganda’s independent Observer took that premise and ran with it with tongue firmly planted in cheek, claiming that gay porn is responsible for increasing attendance at his church.

This makes Makerere Community Church the only place in Uganda where watching pornography is “legal”. According to Uganda’s laws, even mere possession of pornographic material is a crime. It would appear that Makerere Community Church has got a special license to show porn. Moreover, perhaps following Jesus Christ’s example of welcoming children, even kids can watch porn at Makerere Community Church.

The, er, money shot is here:

“I can’t wait to get home and try it out. The men in the movie really seemed to be enjoying themselves,” one member of the congregation told The Analyst.

We’ve seen megachurches reinvent themselves into coffee houses, rave clubs and concert halls, all in an attempt to incorporate elements of popular culture to make themselves appear hip and relevant. Why not porn? Even the worst of it beats the treacly karaoke singers that have become so popular over the past couple of decades.

Click here to see BTB’s complete coverage of recent anti-gay developments in Uganda.

Real Men

Jim Burroway

February 20th, 2010

Real man Rob Tisinai saw a photo of this bumper sticker making the rounds at the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) this weekend. He also is a man with photoshop and is not afraid to use it. More here.

ADF: perhaps the worst written letter ever

Timothy Kincaid

February 19th, 2010

The Alliance Defense Fund has released a copy of a letter which they claim was sent to President Barack Obama and Secretary of Defense Robert Gates and in which they oppose the proposed change to the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy. Supporters of ADF should hope they are bluffing and never sent the letter. Not only is their argument irrational, but the letter itself would get a failing mark in a sixth grade English class.

Here at Box Turtle Bulletin we occasionally make mistakes. Sometimes we misspell a word, get a reference wrong, or flub grammar (and are subjected to the resulting scorn). But we aren’t writing to the White House, and we don’t have paid proof-readers. However, ADF is supposed to be comprised of lawyers, with staff to review, so there’s just no excuse for the ADF’s laughably amateur letter.

So as to help them avoid future mockery, let me share a few tips on letter writing to ADF:

1. When writing to try and influence a powerful person, try to get their name right.

• The Secretary of the Air Force is not “Michael B. Donnelly”; his last name is Donley. Perhaps you have him confused with anti-gay activist Elaine Donnelly, but I doubt that he appreciates the comparison.
• The Secretary of the Navy is Raymond Edwin Mabus, Jr. If you are going to include his middle name, then for heaven’s sake include his suffix.
• Yes, Admiral Mike Mullen is an admiral in the Navy. But generally, “Navy” is not part of his name.

2. If you want mail to arrive, address it properly – even the “cc’s”

• The office of the House Republican Leader is at “H-204 The Capitol” not at “H0204 The Capitol”.
• The Secretary of the Navy is at “1000 Navy Pentagon”, not at “100 Nay Pentagon”.
• The office of the Secretary of the Army is not exactly at “1400 Defense Pentagon”. That is the address of the Office of the Assistant Secretary of Defense for Public Affairs.

I mean, really guys, it’s right there on the Department of Defense website. You can cut and paste it.

And while we’re at it, you only need to put “cc:” on the letter one time. Adding it in front of one name halfway down the list isn’t necessary.

3. Try and present your arguments in a consistent pattern

If you are numerating several points, use wording consistently. Don’t use “Whether chaplains could” three times but select “Whether chaplains can be allowed to” when there is no difference in meaning to be distinguished by different wording.

4. Try to avoid nonsensical and grammatically flawed language.

For example, the following sentence purports to introduce a “consequence”, but instead asks a question (which was not punctuated with a question mark):

That is a Constitutional offense that carries a very pragmatic consequence: just what will happen to recruiting efforts if Christians become second-class soldiers, sailors, airmen, or Marines.

And this sentence makes no sense whatsoever:

We urge you to reconsider your decision and avoid this collision with America’s most cherished and fundamental freedom of religious liberty.

What is “America’s most cherished and fundamental freedom of religious liberty?” It is the freedom to keep gays from the Military? Is it the freedom of chaplains to preach against “homosexual behavior?”

Or perhaps they were trying to say “American’s most cherished and fundamental freedom, that of religious liberty.”

We’ll never know.

5. And finally, try not to introduce off-subject and irrelevant matters into your conclusion.

After four pages of discussion about chaplains and “homosexual behavior”, ADF provided this, their second to last paragraph:

In fact, it is more than plausible that forcing the military to affirm homosexual behavior will prove unwise. Recently, hundreds of religious leaders in civil life—including many from the faith communities that supply many military chaplains—declared their reasoned and conscientious opposition to the normalization of homosexual behavior through the artifice of same-sex “marriage.” This opposition is deeply rooted in the theology of the faith communities represented by the signatories, and such conscientious opposition will come to a sharp head within a military that compels affirmation of homosexual behavior.

Huh?

How, exactly, does (sect specific) religious opposition to civil marriage relate to gay personnel in the military? ADF never tells us, other than to suggest that it has something to do being “unwise”. Or perhaps ADF is assuming that anything gay relates to everything gay, though polls on marriage and military service certainly show otherwise.

Ugh.

Who wrote this thing? And why on earth would they actually consider sending it?

I guess that we can all just be glad that when it comes to Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, our opposition is addicted to appearing like blithering idiots.

Jesus Thinks Elton John is Gay

Jim Burroway

February 19th, 2010

The feeling is mutual. So there.

Valentine’s Question: could you give it all up?

Timothy Kincaid

February 12th, 2010

And after all the boys and the girls that we’ve been through,
Would you give it all up, could you give it all up, if I promise boy to you?

- Lady Gaga, Speechless

This Sunday is St. Valentine’s Day, a time for romance and love. And, perhaps, a time to reflect on the value of your relationship.

In a recent post, we analyzed the claims made about how half of gay marriages are not monogamous and found that the sample was not adequate to tell us anything whatsoever about gay marriages. But it did engender a lengthy and heated discussion about the prevalence of monogamy in the community. And various positions were argued from the perspective of the experiences of those opining.

As we saw, while the readership at Box Turtle Bulletin is very diverse, many readers experienced a very emotional connection to the commentary. Several shared their own relationship structure.

Which got me wondering: is your own perspective on monogamy set in stone? If your beloved came to you on Sunday and asked you to change your agreement, how flexible could you be?

If you strongly believe that an open relationship is healthier and that outside sexual release keeps you stronger, could you give it all up to please the one you love? And if you think that a relationship built on monogamy and fidelity is sacred and smart, how would you react to your Valentine if they expressed a desire, or even a need, to have extra-relationship experiences?

(Please be courteous to others and as respectful of their choices as you wish them to be of yours.)

The Advocate’s foolish and sad “Gayest City” ranking

This commentary is the opinion of the author and does not necessarily reflect that of other authors at Box Turtle Bulletin.

Timothy Kincaid

January 22nd, 2010

I appreciate the Advocate for many reasons, not least of which is that they are a gay magazine that is still in business. But their recent effort to light-heartedly identify the “gayest cities” in the United States betrayed our community’s occasional inclination to still buy into the most negative stereotypes as though they define us.

“Intrepid amateur sociologist Mike Albo” wanted to make the point that gay folk have fled from big cities and now are now scattered to unlikely places (an unlikely assumption).

About 10 years ago everyone else moved back into these nicely gentrified metropolises, and the lavender diaspora began. Now a slew of secondary cities are becoming gay epicenters.

So to identify these secondary epicenters and find which is gayest, he came up with seven measurements, some of which are reasonable, some of which are perplexing, and some of which make me sad at heart.

First the reasonable: same-sex households per capita and gay elected officials. These both seem like good things to consider. A city is likely “gayer” if it has more gay couples and if it’s residents are more open to gay elected officials. gay bars per capita – while I might think that this is not the best criterion, gay bars are to some extent a measurement of gay social life, although I would compare them to the total number of bars, not the total number of people.

Now the perplexing: statewide marriage equality – I can see how this might make sense in a small homogenous state, but I find it odd that by this measure Fresno is gayer than Atlanta. gay films in Netflix favorites – I guess one might measure anti-gay hostility by who was willing to watch Milk, but this is in many ways based in a ghetto mindset. Those who feel “outside” or “other” may be more inclined to need the connection brought by gay specific cinema, while those who are in welcoming communities might be less inclined to watch films based solely on their gay content.

And now the self-loathing categories. First let me say that I’m not accusing Mr. Albo of being self-loathing; he may be the most happy and secure guy out there. And I do recognize that this was not intended to be anything other than a fun exercise. But caveats aside, the following two measurements are based on stereotypes that are tragic and reminiscent of the tales of woe from ex-gays and self-hating drama queens of the 70s. gay dating and hookup profiles for single male population – that is not a measure of gayness, that’s a measure of the extent to which that community discounts relationships or has limited alternatives to meeting someone. And the saddest is cruising spots per capita. First, cruising spots are frequently frequented by those who do not identify as gay and those who are married. And also, cruising spots are most frequent in places where there are no safe ways for gay people to meet. This is not a measure of gayness, this is a measure of the closet in a hostile environment.

A measure of gayness might include a wide variety of gay social groups, citywide laws about discrimination or benefits or couples registry, supportive churches and synagogues, estimations of the gay population, the presence of an active community center, programs for gay youth or elders, and a lack of hate crime incidences. Perhaps even some comparison of the way the city voted on gay marriage bans would be informative.

But not guys lurking furtively in the bushes. That’s not gay, that’s just sad.

Mr. Burns’ evil scheme to deprive Maryland of love

Timothy Kincaid

January 14th, 2010

Emmett C. Burns, Jr. has an evil scheme to deprive Maryland of love. Same-sex, long-term, committed, til death do us part love, to be exact. And he knows just how to do it.

No, Mr. Burns is not building a solar shield over the town of Springfield. He’s not bribing Homer to ignore safety precautions with donuts fried in the rendered fat of endangered species. But it is a plan as nefarious. (WTOP.com)

A Baltimore County delegate is sponsoring legislation that would prohibit Maryland from recognizing gay marriages validated by other states or countries.

Del. Emmett C. Burns Jr.’s measure would also declare that marriages between individuals of the same sex are against the public policy of the state of Maryland.

I can almost see him rubbing his hands exclaiming “excellent“.

I’m not sure why Mr. Burns is so worried about marriage. Perhaps he thinks that with rights and equality, Smithers may find internal peace and contentment and no longer be his toady.

But whatever the reason, his evil plan must be foiled.

(oh, and isn’t it strange how he looks even scarier when he’s not a cartoon)

Dvorak on Miller-Jenkins

Timothy Kincaid

January 7th, 2010

In an article in the Washington Post, Petula Dvorak gets props for the best quote yet on Lisa Miller’s kidnapping of Isabella Miller-Jenkins. Well, actually, the two best quotes:

Miller told Newsweek two years ago that letting Isabella live with Jenkins would be like giving her child to the milkman.

Well, yeah — if you lived with the milkman, made love to him, bought a house with him, entered a civil union with him at a quaint resort blanketed in snow and bedecked with greenery, sat through fertility treatments that he helped pay for, let him catch the baby as you pushed and shared midnight burping and diaper duties — it would be just like giving your child to the milkman.

and my favorite:

Miller’s legal team said in court that a move to Vermont, with a new school and new friends, would be disruptive for a 7-year-old.

And going into hiding isn’t?

Some shady fellas at the Shady Lady

Timothy Kincaid

January 6th, 2010

We told you last month about the Shady Lady Ranch in Beatty, NV. It’s a purveyor of the world’s oldest trade that is seeking to expand business by employing a few good men. Now proprietress Bobbi Davis is going to get her chance.

“I personally feel, as do the many other women who have made contact with me since I started this, that this is a service whose time has come,” Davis said in a letter to Nye County officials.

A county board’s vote Tuesday affirming that Davis could offer “shady men” to her clientele followed months of rancorous debate among the state’s legal brothel community. The industry, in its own peculiar way, is somewhat conservative: Considered an anachronism of bawdy mining camps by some Nevada newcomers, it often balks at change.

None of the locals showed up to object. Perhaps they figured that any employment in this economy was bound to benefit the town.

But that doesn’t mean that no one objected. The complaint came from the man employed to protect the industry.

George Flint, longtime lobbyist for the Nevada Brothel Assn., has said that allowing male prostitutes could be the industry’s Pearl Harbor. He has hinted that brothels possibly offering gay sex — a choice each prostitute, as an independent contractor, would be free to make — might sour some legislators on the entire brothel system.

“This is the first time in the history of the world . . . that men have been licensed to sell sex,” Flint said Tuesday, his voice rising. “It’s never been done!”

Oh, I very much doubt that. And he needn’t worry so much about GAY SEX (eeeeek), as most of her business will probably come from women or couples.

Now that the licenses and approvals are in order, Bobbi is ready to select from the 100 or so applicants. If you rush, you can get your application in before she makes the cut.

Merry Christmas 2009

Timothy Kincaid

December 25th, 2009

All of us at Box Turtle Bulletin wish you a very merry Christmas.

Hunting for ex-gays in Washington, D.C.

Timothy Kincaid

December 15th, 2009

The recent votes by the city counsel of Washington, DC, to first recognize out-of-state same-sex marriages and now to offer marriage equality brought out plenty of anti-gay activists. And many loudly proclaimed the healing power of Christ to overcome the homosexual lifestyle.

But among the many there in the chambers to denounce the evils of homosexuality, one demographic seemed to be missing: residents of the city who had been healed. There just didn’t seem to be any living, breathing ex-gays there to remind their elected officials to represent this often-invisible minority.

The reason may be revealed in an article by Amanda Hess in the Washington CityPaper back in September.

Unfortunately for PFOX and reporters on the sexual-orientation beat, ex-gay Washingtonians are hard to come by. Since each of my dozen or so calls to PFOX headquarters went unanswered, I am unable to confirm any of the group’s purported ex-gay offspring or friends. J. Matt Barber, a member of the PFOX board of directors, tells me that he has “a number of very close friends who are former homosexuals”—none of whom live in D.C. I do track down ex-gay minister Anthony Falzarano, who founded PFOX in Washington in 1995. Falzarano was happy to detail the hundreds of male sex partners he had in his former life, but his flamboyant ex-gayness is no use to PFOX now—Falzarano has since left D.C. for West Palm Beach, Fla. Quinlan, PFOX’s current go-to ex-gay, once called D.C. home, but he has since settled into his heterosexual lifestyle in Dayton, Ohio.

Anti-gay activists are quick to tell you that the world is just teeming with “former homosexuals”. I guess just not in DC.

Best Little Whorehouse in Nevada

Timothy Kincaid

December 14th, 2009

The Shady Lady Ranch has made Nevada history. For years now, men have been excluded from marketing their wares in houses with brocade walls and velvet chairs due to public health restrictions. But that has all changed now.

Men were previously barred in Nevada from the oldest profession because codes specified that prostitutes must undergo “cervical” testing for sexually transmitted diseases, which ruled out men.

Bobbi Davis, owner of the Shady Lady Ranch, a small brothel near Beatty, wanted to add male prostitutes to her stable of sex workers.

And while there have been plans for brothels to hire men in the past, Davis made the first-ever request to have the Nevada State Board of Health add urethral exams to the guidelines. That allows male sex workers to be tested for sexually transmitted diseases.

Beatty is a lovely little stretch of desolate desert outside of Death Valley National Park. It is small, it is dry, it is Republican, and it is home to at least two legal brothels. I am quite sure they are the fanciest, and probably the most profitable, establishments in town.

As for customers, the Shady Lady is egalatarian and all about individual determination.

Davis has said the men could start working at her five-bed brothel starting in the New Year. The male prostitutes will decide for themselves whether to accept male or female clients, she said, just as the female prostitutes do now.

If you would like to be a Shady Lady guy, here’s who they are looking for:

Between 21 and 40.
Have a Good Work Ethic.
Must be Service Oriented.
Have a Willingness to Please.
Have a Positive Attitude.

And, of course, be willing to undergo a weekly urethral exam.

I am not familiar with the Shady Lady, and I certainly don’t wish to suggest anything negative about the lovely gals working there, but I think the fellas might be a welcome addition.

Sunday Driver: “Cuba Needs More Hookers”

Jim Burroway

December 6th, 2009

To get to the Four Corners region of the American Southwest, you get off the plane at Albuquerque and take US 550 toward the northwest. But you best be sure to stock up on refreshments, gas and restroom breaks before you leave the northern suburb of Bernalillo, because that’s just about the last chance you’ll get to stop until you reach the small village of Cuba, NM (pop. 590). There, you’ll have a few places to stop and eat: McDonalds, a Subway, El Bruno’s for Mexican food, and the venerable Cuban Cafe, among a few other choices. Last time through there a few months ago, I stopped for a restroom break at the combination McDonalds/Chevron station and found this scrawled in large letters on the stall door:

Cuba’s pretty small. I suppose that Cuba could probably use more of a lot of things. But for such a small town, it struck me as being relatively self-sufficient. I guess that’s out of necessity — the nearest other town of any size at all is a ninety minute drive away.

My immediate needs resolved (the restroom break, not hookers), I decided to head over to the Cuban Cafe for lunch (split pea soup, a grilled cheese sandwich and a Coke). As I ate, I read a copy of The Cuba News (published monthly) to get a lay of the land. There was a great article about the very early days of the town’s founding as a mission outpost, another “news” article that appeared to be compiled by someone scratching down disjointed notes while watching Glenn Beck on Fox News, a rant against the local police department for their vigorous enforcement of traffic laws (Cuba is a notorious speed trap), and the usual assortment of announcements for pot luck dinners, revivals, and other community events.

But as I was reading the paper and thought that I had gotten an idea of what the local landscape was like, I came across another listing that reminded me that no place could be nailed down to just a few simple images, not even a place as small as Cuba. There in the Religion announcements, amidst the Catholics, the Baptists, the Presbyterians and Assemblies of God, there were two — two! — separate announcements for Bahá’i meetings taking place around Cuba.

The Bahá’i faith, if you don’t know, was founded in nineteenth century Persia and emphasizes three principles: the unity of God, the unity of religion, and the spiritual humanity of all people around the world.  Their main focus is in peace around the world, and they believe that all religions in some form or another embody the wonderment of the one God that unites us all. Those are some pretty high-minded (one might say liberal) concepts. (Update: They may be “liberal” but not so much where homosexuality is concerned. But they are decidedly unconventional nonetheless.) There are an estimated six million Bahá’is around the world, and out of the 590 people living in Cuba, there are enough Bahá’is to support not just one, but two different meetings of the faithful for worship and meditation.Well that reminded me of a very important lesson, one that I should have known well from my own background, but that we all have a tendency to forget no matter where we come from. Wherever you go, you hold the responsibility to see exactly what is in front of you and not your preconceived expectations of what you expect to find. Any place — even an isolated town of six hundred souls — is more complex than any snapshot or isolated image can muster.

My great-grandmother used to defend her rural Kentucky background by saying that hicks are just people who don’t know anything about the rest of the world, and that you can find hicks in some mighty fancy places. With her definition, I’ve run across a lot of hicks in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Washington, Dallas, Boston, London — just about everywhere you can imagine, I’ve met people who thought they knew everything there was to know about middle America. I expected to find hicks in Cuba according to the more conventional meaning of the word, but it turned out that I was the one my great-grandmother would brand the hick. I can’t say whether Cuba really needs more hookers or not, but the world could probably stand a few more trips to Cuba.

Stephen Colbert on Washington’s Referendum 71

Jim Burroway

October 27th, 2009

The Colbert Report	Mon – Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
The Word – Don’t Ask Don’t Tell
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Religion

Sunday Driver: Surrounded By Indians

Jim Burroway

October 25th, 2009

For several weeks over the past three months, my job has taken me to the Four Corners area of New Mexico on the Navajo Indian Reservation. While there, I’ve gotten a small, tentative peak at small snippets of Navajo culture from among my co-workers, the first thing being that they don’t call themselves Navajo. Instead, they call themselves Diné, which just means “The People.” The second thing I learned — and I know this runs the danger of indulging in meaningless stereotypes — is that on the whole, the Diné are a very friendly and humorous people. I am by no  means an expert on Native American peoples, nor have I done much extensive traveling on Indian lands, but of the tribes and reservations that I have come in contact with, the Diné have a very different vibe about them. They are both proudly Diné and proudly American. The Diné language is a flourishing, living language, Diné land is breathtakingly beautiful, and all in all — to this outsider at least — there just seems to be this sense of belonging and permanence. That sense that the Diné are here, they’ve always been here, and they will be here forever.

My last business trip happened to coincide with the Northern Navajo Fair, held annually in Shiprock, New Mexico. It’s sort of like a state fair for the Navajo reservation. Since Shiprock was about an hour away from where I was working, and I was going to have to work through the weekend, I decided to take a Saturday evening off and make the two-hour drive to get there. That’s one hour to get to Shiprock, and another hour in traffic through that small town to park and walk to the fairgrounds. I mentioned my plans to one of my Diné co-workers. He smiled and said, “I don’t know. You might yourself surrounded by Indians.”

I did say the Diné have a great sense of humor, didn’t I?

Well, I went and had a great time. The fair itself is much like any other state or county fair. There was a midway with rides, typical fair food of funnel cakes, sausages, and turkey legs, carnies hawking games and other merchandise, livestock and horticulture exhibits, 4H and Future Farmers of America events. And a rodeo, a staple of all fairs in the American West.

And there was dust, dust like you can’t imagine. Gather thousands of people to walk around a few acres of desert, and you will stir up a fine dust that hangs in the air like a giant tan cloud. For that weekend, the Shiprock fairgrounds were without a doubt The Dustiest Place On Earth.

But of course, since this was the Navajo fair, there were several differences from your typical state fair. A traditional Pow-wow was taking place in one corner of the fairgrounds, a series of Diné community singing and dancing contests were held in a central pavilion, and just off the garishly-lit midway was a more humble, dimly-lit area of traditional Diné food vendors. While their operations were considerably simpler than the flashing lights of the corndog trailers, they had at least one huge advantage over their outside competitors: The Diné vendors constructed tents or simple plywood shelters to shield their diners from the dust.

Now each the sheltered areas were typically small, large enough to hold maybe four or five folding tables, which for me presented a small problem because I was feeling conspicuously White. I felt a great deal of trepidation about going into one of those small tents by myself, a White guy interloping among several Diné families enjoying dinner. But I found one vendor which was mostly empty, and so I decided to try that one.

It turned out to be a good choice. This vendor had arranged her tables differently from the others. Her tables were arranged in a U-shape, with diners sitting on the outside of the “U” facing the center. Since I was the only one there, I sat at the bottom of the “U” and gave her my order of roast mutton in frybread and a bottle of water. Soon after I sat down, several others joined me: an elderly couple on the leg of the “U” to my left, and a family of dancers later came in and sat along the leg of the “U” to my right. When my food arrived, two middle-aged sisters sat down to my immediate left, and an elderly gentleman crowded in to my right. Before I knew it, we had a full house.

With the configuration of the tables where everyone is facing everyone else, conversation naturally came easily. And I saw right away how foolish I was to feel out of place. The lady to my left immediately struck up a conversation with me and told me about the things I should see at the fair. She also insisted that I try the Navajo Tea, a traditional tea brewed from the Greenthread herb. So while I was sipping the tea, the elderly gentleman was telling me about himself, his late wife, his son in college, and, of course, the fact that “Navajo” is what White people call them, and that they call themselves Diné. Which I already knew, but I nodded respectfully as one would do for one’s elders, and I carefully inserted the word Diné in my conversation whenever it was appropriate to do so. Meanwhile, the lady at my left explained the grand finale performance that everyone was there to see later that night.

To give you a little bit of background, the fair begins the weekend before with a nine day healing ceremony known as the Ye’ii Bi Chei Ceremony. It is a series of dances performed continuously by several groups of dancers. The Ye’ii Bi Chei culminates with a grand-finale on the last Saturday night of the fair, that very same Saturday night that I happened to there. But because the Ye’ii Bi Chei finale was scheduled to begin at 10:00 p.m. and I was looking at another two-hour drive to get back to the hotel and going to work the next day, I wasn’t able to attend. So that’s one reason why there aren’t any pictures of it. But the other, much more important reason is that photography is strictly forbidden due to the sacred nature of the ceremony.

But as I said, there was so much more to see and experience. So after everyone had finished eating and we took our leave of each other, I walked over to the central pavilion where the singing and dancing contests were being held. Those I could photograph, even though all I had on me was my cell phone. Since taking snapshots is what tourists do, I played my part. Then I pocketed my phone and just stood and watched.

Now I know we’ve all heard “Indian music” in the movies. It’s typically performed as a high-pitched wail set against the beating of a drum. Diné music, in those respects, is no different — at least superficially, and my untrained ears aren’t capable of going beyond the superficial. And when this music is performed in the movies, we White folks can only take so much of it before it becomes annoying. Maybe that’s why they keep those scenes short.

But I noticed something very different as I stood at the edge of the pavilion and listened as groups and families got up to chant and drum, while others gathered to dance in a slow circle. When you hear the drums beating with you right there, they take on the characteristics of a heartbeat. Maybe not literally, and I have no idea whether that’s what they’re intended to do, but they appear as natural and essential as a beating heart, accompanying the groups as they chanted their songs.

And what amazing songs they are. Every other performance I’ve ever attended, I’ve heard what sounds like a consciously planned, written and rehearsed performance, with a beginning, a middle, and an end. And they come off as well-rehearsed — or maybe not so well-rehearsed, as the case may be. But when you go to a concert, that’s generally what you pay to see. And here too, I also witnessed what must have been carefully rehearsed performances as well — these are groups singing in perfect unison, not individuals making it up as they went along — but it didn’t sound like it.

Instead, these songs sounded as if they were not made by human effort, but were the reflection of something much larger, both inside and outside the singers. It’s like the songs welled up from the dusty ground, pushed their way through the singers’ throats, burst forth from out of their mouths and into the cool night air, and swirled up to the stars and the full moon that shined down on the fairgrounds that night. And the songs themselves don’t feel like they are confined to the moment in which they are performed. Instead, they seem to transcend time, never beginning nor ending. They remain permanent, as permanent as the Diné themselves. And all the while there is the steady beat, beat, beat, steady and strong like a heart. Like the world’s heart, giving life to the crisp autumn night, and cutting through the dust and the noise of the carnival barkers and the DJ playing Pitbull’s Calle Ocho off in the distance. It cut through all of that because the Diné are here, they’ve always been here, and they will be here forever.

I pulled my cell phone back out of my pocket and called my partner back home. “Chris,” I said, “you’ve got to hear this…”

TMI

Jim Burroway

October 23rd, 2009

The Advocate asks, “Best Buns Contest Too Public?”

A gay rodeo’s “best buns contest” has elicited a complaint from a Sacramento-area resident who lives across the street from the venue where the event took place, according to KCRA.com. Monty Stanley of Wilton, Calif., said the October 17 show, which was sponsored by the Capitol Crossroads Gay Rodeo Association as a fund-raiser for Shriners children’s hospitals, was in plain view from his driveway.

“They had more than best buns,” Stanley told KCRA. “They had everything out there naked, and you can see it plain as day. What I witnessed there and what you saw on that camera is not different than pornography.”

Stanley stood in his driveway and shot video of the event, which he made available to KCRA. On the night of the rodeo event, his teenage daughter had several friends over at the house, and Stanley said they all witnessed the contest as well.

The event’s organizers deny that anything other than buns were displayed. But still, I think a good rule of thumb is this: If you’re having a best buns contest and someone can see those buns from clear across the street and in their own driveway, then yes. It’s too public.

Rewarding Intentions

Timothy Kincaid

October 9th, 2009

President Barack Obama has won the Nobel Peace Prize.

Some around the world objected to the choice of Obama, who still oversees wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and has launched deadly counter-terror strikes in Pakistan and Somalia.

The Norwegian Nobel Committee countered that it was trying “to promote what he stands for and the positive processes that have started now.” It lauded the change in global mood wrought by Obama’s calls for peace and cooperation, and praised his pledges to reduce the world stock of nuclear arms, ease American conflicts with Muslim nations and strengthen the U.S. role in combating climate change.

If we are now presenting awards based on intentions and promises rather than on actions and accomplishments, then no doubt the Human Rights Campaign will be awarding the President on Saturday with the Fierce Advocate Award.

Obama’s Accomplishments

Jim Burroway

October 5th, 2009

He killed a fly. Remember that?