Intolerance - want of toleration of the opinions or practices of others.
I have been following a comment thread these past few days about gay marriage and civil unions and another on how much racism there is in Australia. I have come to the conclusion that what we have to guard and fight against is intolerance.
The first thread was not homophobic in the true sense of the word and I found the commenters revealing the usual reasons for their intolerance. "I don't understand it - it's not natural - children need a mother and a father - marriage is special between a man and a woman" and the old standby, "I love my dog, why can't I marry it" firmly putting homosexuals down there with animals.
Kelly from "The Muriels" blogspot, Anonymous Lefty, Sam from QueerPenguin and others all had logical and clear arguments for civil unions, marriage and equality. I didn't comment because these bloggers said everything and better than I could. The main commenter kept saying he had answered all the questions but he didn't, all he showed was his intolerance to gay and lesbians, an unquestioned belief in his idea of marriage and disregard for any major research showing that children of gay and lesbian couples can flourish and become fully functional adults.
So I announce here like a member of AA that I am intolerant as well. I have zero tolerance for people who have fixed and inflexible ideas "loitering with intent" inside closed minds. I am also biased, admiring Kelly and Sam's intellects and counting both as friends. Everyone who comes here knows I am not gay, just a straight divorced grandmother. I have members in my extended family who are just family, not 'gay' family. It was not until the gay marriage ban that I began to realize how the bias against a group of Australian citizens could be made into a law.
I was offended that this could be done in my name and without my vote.
The second thread on racism is also close to me as my granddaughters are part Sri Lankan along with several other nationalities. My father-in-law, a true racist and bigot of the old school, would look them over carefully to see if their skin was darkening as they got older. He also disliked the fact that my son had no objection to them being brought up in the Catholic Faith. I'm not sorry he died before the girls became aware of his subtle hostility.
So if we don't have overt racism in country we certainly have intolerance to other races because of skin colour. I have said it before that people ask me what nationality the girls are which I always think is strange as they are asking an anglo-saxon me. They have not, for the most part, been subjected to racial slurs and hopefully as they get older, intolerance will fade out of our society.
So here I go again saying I am intolerant. I have zero tolerance for any person judging another on the basis of skin colour. So am I any better than the commenters I have been criticising? I think so because I've changed my views as I've grown and I'm still willing to listen and change more. As we go into the second half of the first decade of the 21st Century, I'm sad that this sort of discrimination is still going on but happy that it can be discussed by everyone with an opinion.
Some people leave footprints on our heart. Cats leave fur on our sweaters. Dogs leave drool on our shoes. Families will crap on our doorstep. So when life gives you crap, garden it and make roses.
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Friday, December 30, 2005
GOODBYE TO THE YEAR OF HOWARD
Tomorrow is the day I sit down with my diaries and write down the things I've learned this year. Five years ago the list was very short but this year I think I'll be into double pages. It seems that the older I get the more I learn and I'm going to be really pissed off if I don't live to be one hundred or more. I keep finding out how little I know and how much I want to keep learning. Good argument for no intelligent designer or that he was a bloke. No woman would have put an expanding brain into an ageing body, we're much too sensible and practical. Okay so we wear stupid stilleto shoes but men designed them and put temptation in our way, we're not angels.
It's going to be a scorcher of a day so I thought I would post a photograph taken by my son and think about cool water. There is a safety fence on the other side of the torrent but you can't see it this side because he had his foot in it hanging over the water to get the best shot.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
THE MOUTH OF BARNABY
Extract from The Australian newspaper, December 27.
"renegade Nationals senator Barnaby Joyce said he would oppose any Liberal backbench pressure for the Coalition to allow gay civil unions, mainly because it would entrench the rights of gay men and lesbians to adopt children.
"You can do what you want, but once you start coming on somebody else's rights then you've got to pull back," Senator Joyce said. "You will end up, it's just the nature of the beast, having to argue about why they are not allowed to adopt kids."
"People will say there are so many bad mothers out there and I would make a better mother, and people always look for the exception of the rule to prove their position, and in the end you have a child growing up with a father and a father or a mother and a mother."
Senator Joyce said that while people might think it was their right to have a child, it was wrong to bring up children without a father and a mother.
"You're now dealing with someone else's rights - the child's rights - and the child has the right to have what nature gives them, both a father and mother to balance themselves up psychologically, emotionally and everything," he said.
"It's asking too much of a young child to try and explain....why they have a dad and a dad not a dad and a mum."
There are so many things wrong with those words that I'm inclined to give Barnaby the benefit of the doubt knowing how afflicted he is with Foot in Mouth disease.
This is not only an insult to gay fathers and lesbian mothers who are successfully bringing up their children but show a total lack of understanding of how Australian families have changed.
There are single mothers, divorced mothers, widowed mothers, divorced fathers and widowed fathers, all bringing up children without partners.
A young child accepts its parents without question and why would a child have to explain anything? If nature has given a child same sex parents then I think the child will handle it a lot better than Barnaby.
If he thinks having a father and a mother is better then I suggest he checks the relevant government department for the child abuse statistics for the Christmas/New Year period. He then can check the whole of 2005.
As for the child's rights, they have the right to be loved, to be kept safe, to be fed and clothed, to sleep at night without fear and to have parents, same sex or other who do all of these for them.
"renegade Nationals senator Barnaby Joyce said he would oppose any Liberal backbench pressure for the Coalition to allow gay civil unions, mainly because it would entrench the rights of gay men and lesbians to adopt children.
"You can do what you want, but once you start coming on somebody else's rights then you've got to pull back," Senator Joyce said. "You will end up, it's just the nature of the beast, having to argue about why they are not allowed to adopt kids."
"People will say there are so many bad mothers out there and I would make a better mother, and people always look for the exception of the rule to prove their position, and in the end you have a child growing up with a father and a father or a mother and a mother."
Senator Joyce said that while people might think it was their right to have a child, it was wrong to bring up children without a father and a mother.
"You're now dealing with someone else's rights - the child's rights - and the child has the right to have what nature gives them, both a father and mother to balance themselves up psychologically, emotionally and everything," he said.
"It's asking too much of a young child to try and explain....why they have a dad and a dad not a dad and a mum."
There are so many things wrong with those words that I'm inclined to give Barnaby the benefit of the doubt knowing how afflicted he is with Foot in Mouth disease.
This is not only an insult to gay fathers and lesbian mothers who are successfully bringing up their children but show a total lack of understanding of how Australian families have changed.
There are single mothers, divorced mothers, widowed mothers, divorced fathers and widowed fathers, all bringing up children without partners.
A young child accepts its parents without question and why would a child have to explain anything? If nature has given a child same sex parents then I think the child will handle it a lot better than Barnaby.
If he thinks having a father and a mother is better then I suggest he checks the relevant government department for the child abuse statistics for the Christmas/New Year period. He then can check the whole of 2005.
As for the child's rights, they have the right to be loved, to be kept safe, to be fed and clothed, to sleep at night without fear and to have parents, same sex or other who do all of these for them.
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
CHRISTMAS SWANSONG
This is my last Christmas image. It's a star- forming region called the Christmas Tree cluster and got its nickname when amateur astronomers observed its triangular outline of stars. It looked like a tree bedecked by dazzling holiday lights but this was viewed through small telescopes. This new infrared image reveals ribbons of gas and dust swirling like snow blowing in frigid winter winds and adorned by a festive collection of brilliant stars. Dozens of newborn stars are just beginning to emerge from their natal cocoons. The image was taken by NASA's Spitzer Space Telescope.
A big hurrah for Christmas being over for another year. There were a few small glitches. I must remember to look at what I'm doing after the neighbours give me a glass of Moet&Chandon champagne for breakfast. (Divine champagne by the way). That way I won't pick up the Mistasheen in mistake for the hairspray although my hair never moved all day and had a lovely gloss.
I must not distract the cook when she's making gravy by eating the fresh peas. It causes her to drop an entire salt container into the middle of the pan and the splash radius would rival the Chixulub meteor event. While she's laughing at me covered in gravy, the plastic container is melting and sticking to the pan.
It was her fault for considering me and buying fresh peas but $10 worth of fresh peas. I felt as though I should keep a few and have them bronzed. She's already been through one trauma, hearing a recall broadcast for the pudding (expensive too) she'd bought. Some of them had developed mould so all were recalled. She went over it with a magnifying glass and assured us it was clear which we would have believed had she not passed on it herself. Once again for me, she checked that it didn't have suet in it.
And where would we be without a mother drama. All she had to do was walk across the road.
She was not going to South America but she packed her walker with everything she might need.
Halfway across the street, she stops to talk to a neighbour and when I start yelling, she's "well you keep saying not to walk and talk at the same time". There are three cars coming round the corner and I'm calculating how many points they'll get for an old bat on a walker, a screaming daughter and chatty neighbour. But being Christmas they stopped long enough to let us throw said old bat onto the footpath.
We had bought her a DVD player so after lunch and a return expedition across the road, she was happily in bed with a trailer load of junk mail circling DVDs she wants to buy. Sis and I had not had a drink at all, discounting my early morning glass so we passed on it altogether. I didn't even open my chocolates but that won't last. As Scarlet says, "Tomorrow is another day" and I'll be into them later.
Best gift of all, a card from my granddaughter wishing me a Merry Christmas "with all my love & heart & soul". Solid gold.
Sunday, December 25, 2005
HAPPY CHRISTMAS, KID
Euan James 1971 - 1995
He is made one with nature; there is heard
His voice in all her music, from the moan
Of thunder, to the song of night's sweet bird;
He is a presence to be felt and known
In darkness and in light, from herb and stone
He is a portion of the loveliness
Which once he made more lovely.
Percy Bysshe Shelley.
CHRISTMAS AND COUNTING
The photo is by Declan McCullagh and the cows are grazing in Big Sur, California. I could have just had a cow but I fell in love with the background so the cow is incidental and it does fall into my Christmas posting. I made a comment at 'Plodding along' about cows laying down in the grass meant it was going to rain but no-one had heard that particular old wives' tale. A google search only came up with one mention and that was a personal blog but I found a lot of other 'cow tales'.
This is where the Christmas bit comes in. There's a superstition that cattle kneel at the stroke of midnight on Christmas Eve.
Cows lifting their tails is a sure sign that rain is coming.
If cows lick trees you can expect rain.
Cattle who stand close together in low ground, and feed hard together are said to be foretelling rain.
Considering the lightning, thunder and rain we had here last night, a lot of cows were working overtime with the lifting and licking.
If the cows stand on high ground, the weather will be fine.
If a cow holds its head up and smell the air, someone living near you has died.
Pick up a Daddy Long Legs and ask it "Where are the cows?" It will then point in the direction of the cows! I'd test this out if I didn't know Daddy Long Legs were poisonous and the only reason they don't kill is because their mouths can't open wide enough to bite humans. I'd like to hear from anyone who tries this.
You know you will be married soon when you hear a cow moo at midnight.
It is an evil omen if a cow moos after midnight.
I didn't know cows were this smart.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
MORE CARDS AND NEARLY THERE
Friday, December 23, 2005
Thursday, December 22, 2005
THREE AND COUNTING
Merry Christmas, QueerPenguin.
I love funny Christmas cards but I hate the price and if I do pay for them, you'll never receive them because I can't part with them. I found that by googling for a star to top today's post but that was better.
I went to Space.Com to find a star but found their list of the Top Ten Alien abduction movies. I couldn't resist that.
1. X-FILES - FIGHT THE FUTURE. Remembered, loved it and grabbed the video to watch
tonight.
2. TAKEN. Couldn't get into the series on tv but it might be better on DVD without annoying ad
breaks.
3. THE INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS. The original black and white. It didn't need
a multitude of special effects to frighten the daylights out of me, watching it on the late, late
show in a dark room.
4. MEN IN BLACK. A comedy which I think will last. Must get that out of the cupboard for
Christmas Eve.
5. FIRE IN THE SKY. Don't remember this one at all. Anybody like it?
6. CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND. Sort of liked it but it's a bit boring now.
7. THE ASTRONAUT'S WIFE. What can I say, I'm more the StarWars fan.
8. SIGNS. 50/50. Anybody else instead of Mel Gibson except Tom Cruise.
9. V: The original mini series. I never missed an episode and loved it just as much when they
repeated it.
10. THE ARRIVAL. Watched this three times in two days. The way the aliens bent their knees
backwards really caused me pain because I was between operations to hack my own
kneecaps out.
Now during the silly season why doesn't someone get the bright idea of holding a late night science fiction film festival. We don't all have DVD players, some of us have pension age televisions still. I'd like everyone to see the original 'War of the Worlds' with Gene Barry instead of Cruise. Then there's a couple of Quatermass black and whites that were memorable.
If nothing else, there's 'Threshold' which looks promising as a series and 'Surface' which will put me off swimming this summer.
I love funny Christmas cards but I hate the price and if I do pay for them, you'll never receive them because I can't part with them. I found that by googling for a star to top today's post but that was better.
I went to Space.Com to find a star but found their list of the Top Ten Alien abduction movies. I couldn't resist that.
1. X-FILES - FIGHT THE FUTURE. Remembered, loved it and grabbed the video to watch
tonight.
2. TAKEN. Couldn't get into the series on tv but it might be better on DVD without annoying ad
breaks.
3. THE INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS. The original black and white. It didn't need
a multitude of special effects to frighten the daylights out of me, watching it on the late, late
show in a dark room.
4. MEN IN BLACK. A comedy which I think will last. Must get that out of the cupboard for
Christmas Eve.
5. FIRE IN THE SKY. Don't remember this one at all. Anybody like it?
6. CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND. Sort of liked it but it's a bit boring now.
7. THE ASTRONAUT'S WIFE. What can I say, I'm more the StarWars fan.
8. SIGNS. 50/50. Anybody else instead of Mel Gibson except Tom Cruise.
9. V: The original mini series. I never missed an episode and loved it just as much when they
repeated it.
10. THE ARRIVAL. Watched this three times in two days. The way the aliens bent their knees
backwards really caused me pain because I was between operations to hack my own
kneecaps out.
Now during the silly season why doesn't someone get the bright idea of holding a late night science fiction film festival. We don't all have DVD players, some of us have pension age televisions still. I'd like everyone to see the original 'War of the Worlds' with Gene Barry instead of Cruise. Then there's a couple of Quatermass black and whites that were memorable.
If nothing else, there's 'Threshold' which looks promising as a series and 'Surface' which will put me off swimming this summer.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
IS THERE NOTHING???
I'm in the middle of my usual making 'Christmas presents at the last minute' (unlucky ones get I.O.U.'s) and went googling for Christmas ornaments and found these. Being vego, the photo up top is my idea of a Macca so I had to have it but on the same site I came across these little ornaments for the tree. Just what you want the kiddies to be staring at for the twelve days of Christmas, a tree full of Ronalds. I think I'll give them a miss but I have to admit I love the burger.
ON THE FOURTH DAY BEFORE XMAS
This is how Christmas is supposed to be. Pink and warm and fuzzy. Unfortunately a report from the chief executive of the Women's Domestic Violence Crisis Support Service, Rhonda Cumberland says that support services would not meet demand for victims of domestic violence over Christmas. Assistant Commissioner of Police Leigh Gassner said a combination of stress and alcohol around the Christmas and New Year period often resulted in an alarming increase in domestic violence.
Part of that domestic violence is concentrated on access visits involving children. It's common now to meet at McDonald's or in front of a police station to exchange children for access visits.
In a bitter divorce or even an amicable one, the temptation to use children as a weapon is always present. The wisdom of Solomon was never needed more than at Christmas. One or the other parent is going to be alone and the last thing a child needs is to feel guilty at having a good time on Christmas Day.
I've seen a lot of divorce, in the family and with neighbours and friends. There never seems to be a common thought that the children come first, at least not what I've seen first hand. It's hard to be polite when you're volcanic inside but when you've seen the faces of children standing between two warring parents, waiting for the first blow, it's hard not to feel for them. They learn to survive of course, learn to watch their tongue, learn to live two separate lives and hopefully, not to grow up bitter.
The police have joined the Women's Domestic Violence Crisis Support Service and the Australian Football League in raising the awareness of the serious nature of family violence.
Family violence is not confined to husband/wife/children. Elderly people are subjected to violence by relatives and children. Abuse is now recognised in gay and lesbian relationships as well. Husbands are reluctant to talk about being abused physically by women but that also is rising. It's hidden violence and it happens in religious families, low income or wealthy families.
So my Christmas wish is for a peaceful day, even if hostilities break out again and they will, give the kids a day they'll remember. Just one pink, warm, fuzzy day.
Part of that domestic violence is concentrated on access visits involving children. It's common now to meet at McDonald's or in front of a police station to exchange children for access visits.
In a bitter divorce or even an amicable one, the temptation to use children as a weapon is always present. The wisdom of Solomon was never needed more than at Christmas. One or the other parent is going to be alone and the last thing a child needs is to feel guilty at having a good time on Christmas Day.
I've seen a lot of divorce, in the family and with neighbours and friends. There never seems to be a common thought that the children come first, at least not what I've seen first hand. It's hard to be polite when you're volcanic inside but when you've seen the faces of children standing between two warring parents, waiting for the first blow, it's hard not to feel for them. They learn to survive of course, learn to watch their tongue, learn to live two separate lives and hopefully, not to grow up bitter.
The police have joined the Women's Domestic Violence Crisis Support Service and the Australian Football League in raising the awareness of the serious nature of family violence.
Family violence is not confined to husband/wife/children. Elderly people are subjected to violence by relatives and children. Abuse is now recognised in gay and lesbian relationships as well. Husbands are reluctant to talk about being abused physically by women but that also is rising. It's hidden violence and it happens in religious families, low income or wealthy families.
So my Christmas wish is for a peaceful day, even if hostilities break out again and they will, give the kids a day they'll remember. Just one pink, warm, fuzzy day.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
THE RANT IS RIGHT
I have been accused of hating men. Not true. Hate is a strong word and a violent emotion. What I don't like and don't appreciate are men's attitudes and beliefs towards women. No, not all men have these attitudes and yes, some women exhibit the same attitudes and beliefs as the men I have mentioned. The thing is men and women do not experience certain events in the same way. Men and women can sympathise with each other but they can't empathise.
It would be like saying to a war veteran, "I can imagine how terrible it was for you". I can't say that because there are experiences that have to be first hand. I can say that I know how it would feel to have a son go to war, that's within my experience as a mother.
I can't say to a woman who has decided that abortion is her only option that I know how she feels because I've never had one, never had to make the decision and never had to live with the reality of that decision. But I can empathise with her pain leading to that decision because it's a place I've been in.
Post-natal psychosis is a horrible condition and I was borderline between post-natal depression and full psychosis. The feeling of terror of being left alone with your baby because you know you could lose reality altogether and harm or even kill him can only be understood by another woman experiencing the same emotion.
As much as you try to explain, it never quite gets absorbed by the man in your life, because he can't imagine himself ever hurting his child. The doctor finally accepts your condition, discarding the possibility that your husband is inflicting the injuries you inflict on yourself in order not to touch your child. The Psychiatrist listens and prescribes drugs, so many you write your name and address on a piece of paper and keep it with you, because sometimes it's hard to remember.
Your mother finally stands up to all of them and says, "I will take the baby. You take her off the pills". So for the first year of his life, you travel to your mother's to look after him every day. You and your husband put him to bed at night and go home.
You are still very ill in mind and body. All your doctors agree that another pregnancy will send you into full psychosis. So if pregnancy occurs, abortion is the first option. The second option, is pyschosis with a certainty of harming or even killing your child. The third option is a long term stay in a psychiatric hospital.
Inside your tormented mind you know you won't survive any of those options. There is a fourth option which you offer to them. You will have no more children. You will have a tubal ligation. You are 23 years old and your psychiatrist says you are the sanest person he has seen all week.
The one question he asks, in several ways, is what happens if your only child dies. You tell him he can't be replaced by any other child, he is unique. Your husband is glad to agree, to finally make an end to something he experiences secondhand and admits he doesn't understand.
All the men involved in this year, even the most experienced of doctors, say we can see what you are going through but we don't know what it's really like.
So I go back to my last rant and I stand by what I said. Men cannot make decisions about our bodies because they can only know secondhand, through us, the pain we experience in any decisions we make regarding abortion or pregnancy.
It would be like saying to a war veteran, "I can imagine how terrible it was for you". I can't say that because there are experiences that have to be first hand. I can say that I know how it would feel to have a son go to war, that's within my experience as a mother.
I can't say to a woman who has decided that abortion is her only option that I know how she feels because I've never had one, never had to make the decision and never had to live with the reality of that decision. But I can empathise with her pain leading to that decision because it's a place I've been in.
Post-natal psychosis is a horrible condition and I was borderline between post-natal depression and full psychosis. The feeling of terror of being left alone with your baby because you know you could lose reality altogether and harm or even kill him can only be understood by another woman experiencing the same emotion.
As much as you try to explain, it never quite gets absorbed by the man in your life, because he can't imagine himself ever hurting his child. The doctor finally accepts your condition, discarding the possibility that your husband is inflicting the injuries you inflict on yourself in order not to touch your child. The Psychiatrist listens and prescribes drugs, so many you write your name and address on a piece of paper and keep it with you, because sometimes it's hard to remember.
Your mother finally stands up to all of them and says, "I will take the baby. You take her off the pills". So for the first year of his life, you travel to your mother's to look after him every day. You and your husband put him to bed at night and go home.
You are still very ill in mind and body. All your doctors agree that another pregnancy will send you into full psychosis. So if pregnancy occurs, abortion is the first option. The second option, is pyschosis with a certainty of harming or even killing your child. The third option is a long term stay in a psychiatric hospital.
Inside your tormented mind you know you won't survive any of those options. There is a fourth option which you offer to them. You will have no more children. You will have a tubal ligation. You are 23 years old and your psychiatrist says you are the sanest person he has seen all week.
The one question he asks, in several ways, is what happens if your only child dies. You tell him he can't be replaced by any other child, he is unique. Your husband is glad to agree, to finally make an end to something he experiences secondhand and admits he doesn't understand.
All the men involved in this year, even the most experienced of doctors, say we can see what you are going through but we don't know what it's really like.
So I go back to my last rant and I stand by what I said. Men cannot make decisions about our bodies because they can only know secondhand, through us, the pain we experience in any decisions we make regarding abortion or pregnancy.
Saturday, December 17, 2005
9 DAYS TO GO
Racial tension - racial conflict - race war. A group of bronzed "Aussies" beating up a group of bronzier "wogs" beating up a group of bronzed "Aussies" beating up a group of bronzier "wogs" etc. etc. etc. Shove them all in the Sydney Cricket Ground and let them go. Last man standing proves nothing. One group spits out comments about immodest Aussie women. The other group has a go at ragheads. See a pattern here, hidden in the race war is the usual war on women.
The Senate Committee is supposed to be about RU-486 since abortion is already legal but it's going to be hi-jacked into rolling back the abortion law. Francis Sullivan, Chief executive of Catholic Health Australia says,
"It is a judgement based on what is socially acceptable, not just technically feasible."
"This level of consideration does not fall within the competency of the TGA."
"The responsibility falls to the community's representatives, namely the government of the day."
Well listen up you patronising, Bible bashing, hymn singing, women hating Parliamentarians. Women do not like abortion. No woman likes the thought of abortion but in a lot of circumstances, none of which apply to men, abortion is the only option. Accidents happen, the pill doesn't work, condoms break, rape occurs. Women demand the right to choose what is best for us not what men want to impose on us. If we do have to terminate, and there's not a woman anywhere that decides that without hours of agonised thought, then we demand the right to have it done safely.
This is war on women.
Another sideline skirmish in this battle is denying the Medicare safety net to Lesbian parents who get PREGNANT and want to be PREGNANT and want to bring up their children. How hypocrital can men get? Deny women who don't want children then turn around and deny women who do want children. At least men are consistent in this war, deny women everything they want for their health.
It's the same with a November report about the dangers of ceasarean births with a first child because of the risks involved having a natural birth with the second. Women who try for natural birth in a second baby usually have had an emergency c-section with the first and know the risks. After all, the most dangerous thing a woman ever does in her life is give birth. Put ten women in a room and you will get five horror stories. We're designed to give birth in our teens when everything is supple and moving easily so if older women weigh up the risks of natural against ceasarean then it's their informed choice. And if they have a ceasarean with the first, they'll have it with the second.
Like abortion, women are made to feel guilty about not having a natural birth. Look at actress Kate Winslet who concealed the ceasarean birth of her first child because she felt as if she had failed as a woman. I hope this report stays just a report and doesn't become another Medicare issue to save money by making it harder to claim for a ceasarean birth.
We aren't stupid, we think and make informed choices about a multitude of issues every day and one of those choices is what we will and will not let men decide for us. All of those pious cretins in Canberra can pronounce on these issues but don't expect us to take you seriously until the first man gets pregnant and gives birth or is so horrified by this event, he decides to take RU-846.
The Senate Committee is supposed to be about RU-486 since abortion is already legal but it's going to be hi-jacked into rolling back the abortion law. Francis Sullivan, Chief executive of Catholic Health Australia says,
"It is a judgement based on what is socially acceptable, not just technically feasible."
"This level of consideration does not fall within the competency of the TGA."
"The responsibility falls to the community's representatives, namely the government of the day."
Well listen up you patronising, Bible bashing, hymn singing, women hating Parliamentarians. Women do not like abortion. No woman likes the thought of abortion but in a lot of circumstances, none of which apply to men, abortion is the only option. Accidents happen, the pill doesn't work, condoms break, rape occurs. Women demand the right to choose what is best for us not what men want to impose on us. If we do have to terminate, and there's not a woman anywhere that decides that without hours of agonised thought, then we demand the right to have it done safely.
This is war on women.
Another sideline skirmish in this battle is denying the Medicare safety net to Lesbian parents who get PREGNANT and want to be PREGNANT and want to bring up their children. How hypocrital can men get? Deny women who don't want children then turn around and deny women who do want children. At least men are consistent in this war, deny women everything they want for their health.
It's the same with a November report about the dangers of ceasarean births with a first child because of the risks involved having a natural birth with the second. Women who try for natural birth in a second baby usually have had an emergency c-section with the first and know the risks. After all, the most dangerous thing a woman ever does in her life is give birth. Put ten women in a room and you will get five horror stories. We're designed to give birth in our teens when everything is supple and moving easily so if older women weigh up the risks of natural against ceasarean then it's their informed choice. And if they have a ceasarean with the first, they'll have it with the second.
Like abortion, women are made to feel guilty about not having a natural birth. Look at actress Kate Winslet who concealed the ceasarean birth of her first child because she felt as if she had failed as a woman. I hope this report stays just a report and doesn't become another Medicare issue to save money by making it harder to claim for a ceasarean birth.
We aren't stupid, we think and make informed choices about a multitude of issues every day and one of those choices is what we will and will not let men decide for us. All of those pious cretins in Canberra can pronounce on these issues but don't expect us to take you seriously until the first man gets pregnant and gives birth or is so horrified by this event, he decides to take RU-846.
Friday, December 16, 2005
10 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS
This is how I see Christmas, blue, blue and more blues.
This is how my Mum sees Christmas.
Remember the movie, The Griswolds' Family Christmas? I intend to bury a copy with M so she can light up Heaven. I hate to think what she'll do with Angels and sheet lightning.
Every year she tries to outdo the Griswolds. She pays extra credits on the electricity all year to pay for the Christmas extravaganza. There is so much lighting I wouldn't be surprised to see three wise men turn up with gifts. An extra danger is the fact she's near the flight path of the local airport. There must be a way for the blinking lights to say "not here, mate!".
I refuse to help, so call me Grinch, but I have enough gripes about Christmas without stringing pissy little bulbs on pissy little wires over the house, carport and every tree in the yard. Inside doesn't miss out. the window is made up as a toy shop. I've lost count of the dolls, teddies, elves and tinselled knick-knacks that make their appearance on December l.
It's on the must visit list for every kid within miles. The joy for them is being able to come up the drive right to the window and press their little faces to the glass. Little droolers. She never takes my advice to leave the spiders there to make it interesting. Poor little blighters are sacrificed every year. Dutiful (not me) daughters even wheel the oldies from the nursing home round to see the spectacle.
Now the woman has made me more of a grinch than usual. "I know you hate Christmas," she says. "So I've got something you really want." She's given me a scanner for my computer. A scanner! My dream of a scanner has come true! Oh, am I going to have to pay for this. The grovelling has already gone into overdrive. I can't believe what I've promised to cook for Christmas Day and I'm going to be nice to my *choke* relatives *heave*. I might have an out there since I keep telling them M isn't up to having too many people so they're staggering the visits and if I'm careful I'll miss most of them.
I hate Christmas but I love my scanner. I might even learn to love pissy little lights. Nope, that's too much of a stretch but I love my scanner.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
11 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS
My sister is computer illiterate otherwise I wouldn't get away with writing this but when she interrupts M's morning phone call and has me in fits of laughter, I have to share.
Sis has a wonderful capacity for booze. She can take on a bottle of vodka and still get her key in the door. Her tolerance for beer is just as good but wine not so good. She's had a bad day yesterday with the shock of how much tax Costello siphoned from her holiday pay and sundry other annoyances, like M.
She drank everything in the house but still hadn't hit that blissful stage of forgetfulness until she found the Chardonnay at the back of the fridge. I don't know how she missed it, there's never any food in there, our family doesn't feed, it forages.
It was all downhill after that. She vaguely remembers lying on the couch and probably singing but wonders where she undressed because all the blinds were open this morning. We'll find out tonight if cars start slowing down as they pass.
The biggest worry was waking up and finding her teeth at the bottom of the bed with the cat. The explanations are ongoing. Did she sneeze and lose them? Did she throw them at the cat? The cat is a bed hog. Was she snoring so loud that the cat tried to shove them down her throat to shut her up? I'm not kidding, the cat is so pyschotic I call it Bates, as in the motel.
I didn't think I could laugh harder but I did when she asked me to ring her mobile number so she could find the phone. She'd already looked in the freezer (she did need ice) and checked the cat's dish (it needed food). We found it but who would have thought to look in the empty pay packet.
And after all this, she doesn't have a hangover. She never gets a hangover. I fall over and die after one drink. She has given me a vodka and soda and I haven't walked a straight line of the three kms home. She's out shopping now and buying a turkey. She rarely has Christmas Day off so her turkey cooking skills aren't up there with Nigella but she's promised not to drink until it's on the table, after that, all bets are off.
Sis has a wonderful capacity for booze. She can take on a bottle of vodka and still get her key in the door. Her tolerance for beer is just as good but wine not so good. She's had a bad day yesterday with the shock of how much tax Costello siphoned from her holiday pay and sundry other annoyances, like M.
She drank everything in the house but still hadn't hit that blissful stage of forgetfulness until she found the Chardonnay at the back of the fridge. I don't know how she missed it, there's never any food in there, our family doesn't feed, it forages.
It was all downhill after that. She vaguely remembers lying on the couch and probably singing but wonders where she undressed because all the blinds were open this morning. We'll find out tonight if cars start slowing down as they pass.
The biggest worry was waking up and finding her teeth at the bottom of the bed with the cat. The explanations are ongoing. Did she sneeze and lose them? Did she throw them at the cat? The cat is a bed hog. Was she snoring so loud that the cat tried to shove them down her throat to shut her up? I'm not kidding, the cat is so pyschotic I call it Bates, as in the motel.
I didn't think I could laugh harder but I did when she asked me to ring her mobile number so she could find the phone. She'd already looked in the freezer (she did need ice) and checked the cat's dish (it needed food). We found it but who would have thought to look in the empty pay packet.
And after all this, she doesn't have a hangover. She never gets a hangover. I fall over and die after one drink. She has given me a vodka and soda and I haven't walked a straight line of the three kms home. She's out shopping now and buying a turkey. She rarely has Christmas Day off so her turkey cooking skills aren't up there with Nigella but she's promised not to drink until it's on the table, after that, all bets are off.
RAGE
I'm only leaving this photograph up for 24 hours since I respect my granddaughters' privacy. They are beautiful, talented and extremely intelligent. I've been asked time and time again, "What nationality are they?" They are Australian, born here as was their father and mother. On their father's side, they inherited French, German, Scot and American genes. On their mother's side, they inherited, Sinhalese, Dutch, English and Irish genes. They are my United Nations. They are Human Beings.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
MEME TIME
I was tagged by a delightful young man who will grow into a delightful adult if I don't throttle him first. If you think you'll get anything sensible out of me, in your dreams, OoC.
SEVEN THINGS THAT ATTRACT ME TO MY (Romantic interest, best friend, whatever applies)
1. Makes me feel equal and special.
2. Strength and softness. Think Terminator meets Luke Skywalker.
3. Honesty. But he is allowed to lie about my age, weight and how good I am in bed.
4. An elegant mind. As in the scientific meaning of elegant.
5. A sense of humour. He'll need it.
6. The usual - Green Eyes! And if you haven't got green eyes, wear contacts, I'll never know.
7. Smell. Expensive yummy crisp yummy citrusy yummy cologne yummy smell.
SEVEN BOOKS OR SERIES THAT I LOVE
1. The adventures of the Potter kid and Wind in the Willows. Because I had an insecure childhood and I keep trying to rectify it. Made more insecure by finding out Biggles was a misogynist racist and the Famous Five were anti-social mutant teenagers.
2. Moby Dick. For the sound of the words and the imagery.
3. Christopher Isherwood's Diaries. For the background to his books.
4. The Lovejoy series. Invaluable for the information I'll need for my career in antiques as a dealer or forger and for the character of Lovejoy himself.
5. Dick Francis' racing mysteries. As being raised around racing I know how true the skulduggery is.
6. The Illiad and The Odyssey. For the memory of trying to learn Greek so I could read it in the original.
7. Cornwell's Kay Scarpetta and Reichs' Tempe Brennan. Because I'd never be able to slice and dice a body in real life.
Nothing very deep here, no Plato or Cicero although I do love some of the Greek tragedies and no animal books. I was scarred forever by the sadist who let me sob my way through Black Beauty.
SEVEN THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE
1. Get a life.
2. And a figure to match.
3. Travel. If I ever get over my fear of flying, deep oceans and the peculiar toilet arrangements of other countries.
4. Wake up one morning to find I've become intellectually brilliant.
5. Deal in antiques.
6. Deal in Gems
7. Become obscenely wealthy so I can do most of the above.
SEVEN THINGS I CANNOT DO
1. Regain the figure I never had.
2. Dive into deep water head first. I was on the Titanic. (A previous life so lay off the betting on my age)
3. Ice skate. Ice is cold, hard and unforgiving even with my padding.
4. Ballet. The dancing hippos in Fantasia are never far from my mind.
5. Drive - a car, bus, truck or anything that goes fast on wheels with me in control.
6. Ride a horse. They're large with kicking things on each corner, teeth at one end and something unspeakable at the other.
7. *shudders* Re-marry or think of re-marrying. *shudders*
SEVEN MOVIES I WOULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN
1. The Potter kid, all of them and the ones to come.
2. StarWars. The original version not the one he fiddled with later.
3. Camelot. For the sets and the costumes and 'Lance' wasn't bad on the eye either.
4. Blade Runner, director's cut.
5. Aliens. The second one where Ripley kicks both men and alien.
6. Willow. The best villianess since Snow White's stepmother.
7. The Abyss. Not the director's cut. Why don't they leave good things alone?
SEVEN THINGS I SAY MOST OFTEN
1. *expletive deleted* pain.
2. *expletive deleted* computer.
3. *expletive deleted* politicians.
4. 'Flying Fruitbats' (how did a clean one get in here?)
5. *expletive deleted* happens.
6. *expletive deleted* shaddup (to the cats).
7. *expletive deleted* *expletive deleted* *expletive deleted* Ex.
SEVEN PEOPLE I WANT TO JOIN IN TOO
You know who you are! I'll be lurking. Don't make me come and get you.
SEVEN THINGS THAT ATTRACT ME TO MY (Romantic interest, best friend, whatever applies)
1. Makes me feel equal and special.
2. Strength and softness. Think Terminator meets Luke Skywalker.
3. Honesty. But he is allowed to lie about my age, weight and how good I am in bed.
4. An elegant mind. As in the scientific meaning of elegant.
5. A sense of humour. He'll need it.
6. The usual - Green Eyes! And if you haven't got green eyes, wear contacts, I'll never know.
7. Smell. Expensive yummy crisp yummy citrusy yummy cologne yummy smell.
SEVEN BOOKS OR SERIES THAT I LOVE
1. The adventures of the Potter kid and Wind in the Willows. Because I had an insecure childhood and I keep trying to rectify it. Made more insecure by finding out Biggles was a misogynist racist and the Famous Five were anti-social mutant teenagers.
2. Moby Dick. For the sound of the words and the imagery.
3. Christopher Isherwood's Diaries. For the background to his books.
4. The Lovejoy series. Invaluable for the information I'll need for my career in antiques as a dealer or forger and for the character of Lovejoy himself.
5. Dick Francis' racing mysteries. As being raised around racing I know how true the skulduggery is.
6. The Illiad and The Odyssey. For the memory of trying to learn Greek so I could read it in the original.
7. Cornwell's Kay Scarpetta and Reichs' Tempe Brennan. Because I'd never be able to slice and dice a body in real life.
Nothing very deep here, no Plato or Cicero although I do love some of the Greek tragedies and no animal books. I was scarred forever by the sadist who let me sob my way through Black Beauty.
SEVEN THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE
1. Get a life.
2. And a figure to match.
3. Travel. If I ever get over my fear of flying, deep oceans and the peculiar toilet arrangements of other countries.
4. Wake up one morning to find I've become intellectually brilliant.
5. Deal in antiques.
6. Deal in Gems
7. Become obscenely wealthy so I can do most of the above.
SEVEN THINGS I CANNOT DO
1. Regain the figure I never had.
2. Dive into deep water head first. I was on the Titanic. (A previous life so lay off the betting on my age)
3. Ice skate. Ice is cold, hard and unforgiving even with my padding.
4. Ballet. The dancing hippos in Fantasia are never far from my mind.
5. Drive - a car, bus, truck or anything that goes fast on wheels with me in control.
6. Ride a horse. They're large with kicking things on each corner, teeth at one end and something unspeakable at the other.
7. *shudders* Re-marry or think of re-marrying. *shudders*
SEVEN MOVIES I WOULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN
1. The Potter kid, all of them and the ones to come.
2. StarWars. The original version not the one he fiddled with later.
3. Camelot. For the sets and the costumes and 'Lance' wasn't bad on the eye either.
4. Blade Runner, director's cut.
5. Aliens. The second one where Ripley kicks both men and alien.
6. Willow. The best villianess since Snow White's stepmother.
7. The Abyss. Not the director's cut. Why don't they leave good things alone?
SEVEN THINGS I SAY MOST OFTEN
1. *expletive deleted* pain.
2. *expletive deleted* computer.
3. *expletive deleted* politicians.
4. 'Flying Fruitbats' (how did a clean one get in here?)
5. *expletive deleted* happens.
6. *expletive deleted* shaddup (to the cats).
7. *expletive deleted* *expletive deleted* *expletive deleted* Ex.
SEVEN PEOPLE I WANT TO JOIN IN TOO
You know who you are! I'll be lurking. Don't make me come and get you.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
IT'S SATURDAY
So what, you say. Well for me remembering what day it is, calls for celebration.
Nearly half way through December and I've forgotten to post the November earthquake report. Nine earthquakes in Oz last month, six of them north of Kalanie in Western Australia. Is there something in Kalanie we should know about? Big meteor in the sky last week. That film with David Duchovny about the giant worm/slug/snake thing, name escapes me but the movie doesn't. That was filmed outback. Keep you posted.
I found the perfect Christmas present for the parents of those kids you hate. I had to control the panic attack on seeing this on full display, THE SOUND OF MUSIC SING-A-LONG VERSION on DVD. The horror, the inhumanity, the total disintegration of a family gathering as an entire room full of Mini-Marias go full bore. It must go to someone, somewhere on a hate list.
One for me, if I was solvent, if I could stand kids, if I didn't want to hit all Santas with a brick. Steamrail Victoria has a Santa Special Picnic train going to Geelong on Sunday Dec. 18. A steam locomotive and heritage carriages. Picnic lunch in the parks and foreshore at Geelong. Love it.
Every holiday for years our treat was a steam locomotive trip somewhere. Up at dawn with the boys (son and brick outhouse), Spencer Street and steam engine. Every mother should be a hero to her kids for one moment and mine was providing swim goggles so they could spend the entire trip with their heads out the window and no cinders in the eyes. It was then I realized I must be doing something right when they offered to share goggles with the other kids. *sunbeams in the heart* Something else I must have been in a former life, a sherpa. I managed to carry food for three, drinks, extra clothes (they always found water, little camels) books (me), cameras, torches, swiss army knife and kitchen sink on my back.
That leads into one of my favourite hates. Fat mothers who say they want to loose weight so they can play with their kids. I say 'whadaloaddarubbish'! I hiked up mountains, waded creeks, climbed down cliffs, rode a bike, snorkled with the boys and I was so fat we had to look out for Japanese scientific research vessels.
Ending the week goodly was Barmey actually crossing the floor and keeping a promise. Ending the week badly was Family First Fielding voting for VSU. He said no deals were made but as an opponent of RU-486, I wouldn't trust him an inch. Brenden Nelson and the Prime Miniature aren't divulging what was discussed at the meeting prior to the vote. HAH!
In good news for me and Mandy Vanstone, being overweight is not nearly as bad for our health as everyone says. Of course, being overweight and a liberal minister is not necessarily good for Mandy V's health but I'm okay. Haven't read the full article yet, I'll save it for a snack break later. There'll be a catch there somewhere. I'll fill you up, er in, next week. I think I've got enough sedition in this week.
Be warned, I'm finishing a meme.
Nearly half way through December and I've forgotten to post the November earthquake report. Nine earthquakes in Oz last month, six of them north of Kalanie in Western Australia. Is there something in Kalanie we should know about? Big meteor in the sky last week. That film with David Duchovny about the giant worm/slug/snake thing, name escapes me but the movie doesn't. That was filmed outback. Keep you posted.
I found the perfect Christmas present for the parents of those kids you hate. I had to control the panic attack on seeing this on full display, THE SOUND OF MUSIC SING-A-LONG VERSION on DVD. The horror, the inhumanity, the total disintegration of a family gathering as an entire room full of Mini-Marias go full bore. It must go to someone, somewhere on a hate list.
One for me, if I was solvent, if I could stand kids, if I didn't want to hit all Santas with a brick. Steamrail Victoria has a Santa Special Picnic train going to Geelong on Sunday Dec. 18. A steam locomotive and heritage carriages. Picnic lunch in the parks and foreshore at Geelong. Love it.
Every holiday for years our treat was a steam locomotive trip somewhere. Up at dawn with the boys (son and brick outhouse), Spencer Street and steam engine. Every mother should be a hero to her kids for one moment and mine was providing swim goggles so they could spend the entire trip with their heads out the window and no cinders in the eyes. It was then I realized I must be doing something right when they offered to share goggles with the other kids. *sunbeams in the heart* Something else I must have been in a former life, a sherpa. I managed to carry food for three, drinks, extra clothes (they always found water, little camels) books (me), cameras, torches, swiss army knife and kitchen sink on my back.
That leads into one of my favourite hates. Fat mothers who say they want to loose weight so they can play with their kids. I say 'whadaloaddarubbish'! I hiked up mountains, waded creeks, climbed down cliffs, rode a bike, snorkled with the boys and I was so fat we had to look out for Japanese scientific research vessels.
Ending the week goodly was Barmey actually crossing the floor and keeping a promise. Ending the week badly was Family First Fielding voting for VSU. He said no deals were made but as an opponent of RU-486, I wouldn't trust him an inch. Brenden Nelson and the Prime Miniature aren't divulging what was discussed at the meeting prior to the vote. HAH!
In good news for me and Mandy Vanstone, being overweight is not nearly as bad for our health as everyone says. Of course, being overweight and a liberal minister is not necessarily good for Mandy V's health but I'm okay. Haven't read the full article yet, I'll save it for a snack break later. There'll be a catch there somewhere. I'll fill you up, er in, next week. I think I've got enough sedition in this week.
Be warned, I'm finishing a meme.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
WHERE WOULD YOU GO?
This article http://www.ssonet.com.au/display.asp?ArticleID=4923will make you wonder more about the American Government than you already do.
So much for tolerance about HIV/AIDS.
So much for tolerance about HIV/AIDS.
Friday, December 09, 2005
THE SHOPPING REPORT
There's a geek alert for PowerHouse, in other words don't bother. No cute geeks just geeks. There's nothing left for me but the underwear department at David Jones.
I found a new shop. Lovely beaded dresses and I love beaded dresses. Unfortunately the shop is full of mirrors, nasty mirrors, the kind that tells you 'your bum looks big in this' without being asked. I've put on weight according to these mirrors but I think I've just developed big muscles from sitting at the computer. It's all that mouse moving and keyboard touching. I'm lying, I haven't done one exercise all winter except lift hand to mouth.
The above was payback for looking at fat tarts in stretch pants and making mental rude noises. If you must wear them, at least get a shirt that covers most of the offending hectares.
I nearly killed a kid. It was a reflex action, I couldn't help myself. It was his fault, shrieking at that high a pitch behind me when I've had a bad week and just come out of a mirror shop. What are mothers thinking of? To reach that high a key, he has to practise so he must do it at home so why don't you stick a spud in his mouth, like up an exhaust pipe on a car. Done properly he'll take a week to spit it out or implode, either is good.
Safeway put my Nimbin cheese up 30 cents. Nearly $6 for cheese! Just because it says Nimbin doesn't meant it's full of that other Nimbin smokin' stuff but at that price it should be.
The taxi door shut itself on my shin. It was okay, it took my mind off the rest of the pain I was in.
The day was saved by a blonde munchkin and I can't believe I'm saying that. She sat down beside me with her furry stuffed emu while Mum was buying her a sugar overload of doughnuts.
After arranging emu on the table, she proceeded to tie a Christmas sparkly band to each of its legs. She explained to me, very seriously, that they were the same as she had in her hair but as an emu doesn't have hair or ears that stick out, she had to put said Christmas sparklies on each foot. I spent 10 minutes watching this operation and listening to a lecture on emus by someone that could barely see over the table.
It really is the small things that make me happy.
I found a new shop. Lovely beaded dresses and I love beaded dresses. Unfortunately the shop is full of mirrors, nasty mirrors, the kind that tells you 'your bum looks big in this' without being asked. I've put on weight according to these mirrors but I think I've just developed big muscles from sitting at the computer. It's all that mouse moving and keyboard touching. I'm lying, I haven't done one exercise all winter except lift hand to mouth.
The above was payback for looking at fat tarts in stretch pants and making mental rude noises. If you must wear them, at least get a shirt that covers most of the offending hectares.
I nearly killed a kid. It was a reflex action, I couldn't help myself. It was his fault, shrieking at that high a pitch behind me when I've had a bad week and just come out of a mirror shop. What are mothers thinking of? To reach that high a key, he has to practise so he must do it at home so why don't you stick a spud in his mouth, like up an exhaust pipe on a car. Done properly he'll take a week to spit it out or implode, either is good.
Safeway put my Nimbin cheese up 30 cents. Nearly $6 for cheese! Just because it says Nimbin doesn't meant it's full of that other Nimbin smokin' stuff but at that price it should be.
The taxi door shut itself on my shin. It was okay, it took my mind off the rest of the pain I was in.
The day was saved by a blonde munchkin and I can't believe I'm saying that. She sat down beside me with her furry stuffed emu while Mum was buying her a sugar overload of doughnuts.
After arranging emu on the table, she proceeded to tie a Christmas sparkly band to each of its legs. She explained to me, very seriously, that they were the same as she had in her hair but as an emu doesn't have hair or ears that stick out, she had to put said Christmas sparklies on each foot. I spent 10 minutes watching this operation and listening to a lecture on emus by someone that could barely see over the table.
It really is the small things that make me happy.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
IGNORE ME, I'LL KEEP WRITING
The Rev. Gordon Moyes, Upper House Christian Democrat, is upset that he has failed to have homosexuals burned at the stake, shot, thrown into a pit, poisoned, garroted or hung. Maybe he didn't put it in quite those words, you have to read between the letters and now he is going to look out for the rest of us in Parliament.
Gay Erasmus at http://Gayerasmus.blogspot.com has a better take on religion and his last post should be pasted over the Rev's eyeballs.
Kelly and Sam Pilgrim-Byrne are lesbians from Perth at http://TheMuriels.blogspot.com and are trying to become parents after being together for 12 years. I became friends with them after reading about their efforts to contact Senator Fielding in regards to Medicare funding. The girls have used over $10,000 of their own money to fund their IVF treatments. Senator Fielding never replied to their letters so I took up my pen. He has ignored me as has Mr. Beazley and Mr. Crean and I thought Christians were supposed to be polite but not even an auto-reply saying my e-mails had been received. My next letter to the Senator has been emailed, another being sent by snail mail and I have decided to post it here, so he can't deny it ever existed.
Dear Senator Fielding,
Once again I am writing to you on behalf of Rainbow families.
It is a special time of the year for all families and Gay and Lesbian families are no different. They are parents and have parents who are supportive of them. They will take their childen to Church on Christmas Day as you will.
I have read your speeches and interviews in magazines. I've watched your family story on television. I understand your reluctance to describe the partnerships of Gays and Lesbians as marriage but the ACT's move towards civil unions which would not involve the Church could not offend you. I am trying to break through your prejudice against same-sex families just as I am trying to put aside any prejudice I might have towards your religious beliefs.
The much loved children in these families are not ashamed of their same-sex parents. A ceremony uniting their parents is an affirmation of their committment and love to each other and to their care and upbringing. I am not speaking of a Church wedding which I understand you would never support but would a civil union giving them equal rights for themselves and their children really destroy our society? The children's health would benefit from the equality in regards to Medicare, so how would that be a bad thing?
I am speaking about responsible parents. They keep their bedrooms private as do all parents. Their children are exposed to nothing more than the same love, affection and discipline as children in other families. They make the same sacrifices for their children's education.
You say you are in Parliament to support all families but I haven't seen much support for Rainbow families. Perhaps in the future you will be responsible enough to do so.
It would be nice if the Senator replies this time but I'm not holding my breath. I'd like him to have the Gay Erasmus post pasted on his eyes too. I know it is not just Christians who ignore the fact that Gays and Lesbians are human but as it is drummed into us so much these days that this is a Christian Country then it's about time a bit of Christian commonsense was elevated above Christian ignorance.
Gay Erasmus at http://Gayerasmus.blogspot.com has a better take on religion and his last post should be pasted over the Rev's eyeballs.
Kelly and Sam Pilgrim-Byrne are lesbians from Perth at http://TheMuriels.blogspot.com and are trying to become parents after being together for 12 years. I became friends with them after reading about their efforts to contact Senator Fielding in regards to Medicare funding. The girls have used over $10,000 of their own money to fund their IVF treatments. Senator Fielding never replied to their letters so I took up my pen. He has ignored me as has Mr. Beazley and Mr. Crean and I thought Christians were supposed to be polite but not even an auto-reply saying my e-mails had been received. My next letter to the Senator has been emailed, another being sent by snail mail and I have decided to post it here, so he can't deny it ever existed.
Dear Senator Fielding,
Once again I am writing to you on behalf of Rainbow families.
It is a special time of the year for all families and Gay and Lesbian families are no different. They are parents and have parents who are supportive of them. They will take their childen to Church on Christmas Day as you will.
I have read your speeches and interviews in magazines. I've watched your family story on television. I understand your reluctance to describe the partnerships of Gays and Lesbians as marriage but the ACT's move towards civil unions which would not involve the Church could not offend you. I am trying to break through your prejudice against same-sex families just as I am trying to put aside any prejudice I might have towards your religious beliefs.
The much loved children in these families are not ashamed of their same-sex parents. A ceremony uniting their parents is an affirmation of their committment and love to each other and to their care and upbringing. I am not speaking of a Church wedding which I understand you would never support but would a civil union giving them equal rights for themselves and their children really destroy our society? The children's health would benefit from the equality in regards to Medicare, so how would that be a bad thing?
I am speaking about responsible parents. They keep their bedrooms private as do all parents. Their children are exposed to nothing more than the same love, affection and discipline as children in other families. They make the same sacrifices for their children's education.
You say you are in Parliament to support all families but I haven't seen much support for Rainbow families. Perhaps in the future you will be responsible enough to do so.
It would be nice if the Senator replies this time but I'm not holding my breath. I'd like him to have the Gay Erasmus post pasted on his eyes too. I know it is not just Christians who ignore the fact that Gays and Lesbians are human but as it is drummed into us so much these days that this is a Christian Country then it's about time a bit of Christian commonsense was elevated above Christian ignorance.
FOR KELLY AND SAM
Written by Erma Bombeck.
When the Lord God was creating Mothers he was into his sixth day of 'overtime' when the angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
And the Lord said, "Have you read the spec on this order. She has to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 moveable parts ... all replaceable. Run on black coffee and leftovers. Have a lap that disappears when she stands up. A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair. And six pairs of hands."
The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands ... no way."
"It's not the hands that are causing the problems," said the Lord. "It's the three pairs of eyes that Mothers have to have."
"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel. The Lord nodded. "One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks 'What are you kids doing in there?' when she already knows. Another here in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn't but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say, 'I understand and I love you,' without so much as uttering a word.
"Lord" said the angel touching His sleeve gently, "Come to bed. Tomorrow..."
"I can't," said the Lord. "I'm so close to creating something close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick ... can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger... and can get a nine-year-old to stand under a shower."
The angel circled the model of a Mother very slowly. "It's too soft," she sighed.
"But tough!" said the Lord excitedly "You cannot imagine what this mother can do or endure."
"Can it think?"
"Not only think, but it can reason and compromise." said the Creator.
Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek. "There's a leak!"
Said the Lord, "It's a tear."
"What's it for?"
"It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness and pride."
"You're a genius," said the angel.
The Lord looked sombre. "I didn't put it there."
When the Lord God was creating Mothers he was into his sixth day of 'overtime' when the angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
And the Lord said, "Have you read the spec on this order. She has to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 moveable parts ... all replaceable. Run on black coffee and leftovers. Have a lap that disappears when she stands up. A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair. And six pairs of hands."
The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands ... no way."
"It's not the hands that are causing the problems," said the Lord. "It's the three pairs of eyes that Mothers have to have."
"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel. The Lord nodded. "One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks 'What are you kids doing in there?' when she already knows. Another here in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn't but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say, 'I understand and I love you,' without so much as uttering a word.
"Lord" said the angel touching His sleeve gently, "Come to bed. Tomorrow..."
"I can't," said the Lord. "I'm so close to creating something close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick ... can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger... and can get a nine-year-old to stand under a shower."
The angel circled the model of a Mother very slowly. "It's too soft," she sighed.
"But tough!" said the Lord excitedly "You cannot imagine what this mother can do or endure."
"Can it think?"
"Not only think, but it can reason and compromise." said the Creator.
Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek. "There's a leak!"
Said the Lord, "It's a tear."
"What's it for?"
"It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness and pride."
"You're a genius," said the angel.
The Lord looked sombre. "I didn't put it there."
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
'ON YER, COSTELLO'
Costello has a new plan to save money.
He's going to take it away from bad parents.
What's the criteria for being a bad parent?
The Brotherhood of St. Laurence says one child in ten is living in relative poverty and one in seven is growing up in a household where no-one has a job.
Is this the criteria, not having a job?
Children living in poverty in this country is a disgrace and the report reads like something from the depression years.
Low birth weight, poor physical growth, mental health problems, suicide attempts and substance abuse.
Costello wants to cut welfare but is he going to put it into public health to help these children?
This is the government who wants abortion rates cut and families to have more children.
Families who have jobs (and that's both parents) but are still low income face a battle to feed, clothe and educate their children. Costello should come down from his ivory tower and shop on welfare or low income money.
Every one knows of a family where money goes on cigarettes, booze or gambling but how much does that count in bad parenting. Is is worse than sexual abuse or beatings?
Women earn less than men but have the same family responsibilities. Lesbian and gay parents are penalised by the Medicare safety net. Single mothers are going to have to juggle part-time work and childcare is way out of range for them so they're going to be made into bad parents.
To make the most of their potential, children have to be healthy in body and mind but they are living on the edge from an increasingly earlier age. Fresh fruit, vegetables, bread and milk are constantly increasing in price. It's less expensive to buy a package of chemically enhanced rubbish that fills an empty stomach. I remember the scenes of rotting oranges in the news this year. Why didn't the government use its surplus and buy this fruit and distribute it to schools in poorer areas?
Like everything else, pressure from above filters down and children are on the bottom catching the lot.
If this is the best you can come up with Costello, then you had better join Abbott on a slow boat to anywhere but here.
Children are supposed to be our future but not if your parents are poor enough to qualify as bad parents.
He's going to take it away from bad parents.
What's the criteria for being a bad parent?
The Brotherhood of St. Laurence says one child in ten is living in relative poverty and one in seven is growing up in a household where no-one has a job.
Is this the criteria, not having a job?
Children living in poverty in this country is a disgrace and the report reads like something from the depression years.
Low birth weight, poor physical growth, mental health problems, suicide attempts and substance abuse.
Costello wants to cut welfare but is he going to put it into public health to help these children?
This is the government who wants abortion rates cut and families to have more children.
Families who have jobs (and that's both parents) but are still low income face a battle to feed, clothe and educate their children. Costello should come down from his ivory tower and shop on welfare or low income money.
Every one knows of a family where money goes on cigarettes, booze or gambling but how much does that count in bad parenting. Is is worse than sexual abuse or beatings?
Women earn less than men but have the same family responsibilities. Lesbian and gay parents are penalised by the Medicare safety net. Single mothers are going to have to juggle part-time work and childcare is way out of range for them so they're going to be made into bad parents.
To make the most of their potential, children have to be healthy in body and mind but they are living on the edge from an increasingly earlier age. Fresh fruit, vegetables, bread and milk are constantly increasing in price. It's less expensive to buy a package of chemically enhanced rubbish that fills an empty stomach. I remember the scenes of rotting oranges in the news this year. Why didn't the government use its surplus and buy this fruit and distribute it to schools in poorer areas?
Like everything else, pressure from above filters down and children are on the bottom catching the lot.
If this is the best you can come up with Costello, then you had better join Abbott on a slow boat to anywhere but here.
Children are supposed to be our future but not if your parents are poor enough to qualify as bad parents.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
BEST FRIDGE MAGNET
I had to post this, I love it. Sorry to the perves who probably thought I was posting a naked guy. I've actually done this to one of my cats although not half and half, that was at the back door and its neck healed really well.
My fridge is so old that the water runs down to the bottom so I've had to take the crispers out to watch for takeover bids by mouldworld inc. and one dopey cat took to sneaking in every time the door opened. It only took half a dozen times before both of us decided to be a bit more careful.
I've also locked cats in the pantry, the linen cupboard and the toilet. Neither of us will forget the toilet. Do you know what damage can be inflicted on the nerves standing on a furry cat, in the dark, in a toilet where you're not expecting a cat to be? Fortunately there was no-one else to hear either of us scream.
No, I didn't see it because I never turn lights on in the middle of the night and how can I miss a toilet even in the dark. A hangover from my childhood wanderings down to an elegant pee-palace in the middle of a paddock where it was always better not to light up and find the spiders.
It's a miracle to me that we ended up with horse-size bladders instead of kidney failure.
Just in case no-one noticed, I remembered to change the date and get the time right. Figjam
THE BEAR MEME
Over at Diogenesian Discourse, Gerry has said I've been responsible for an outbreak of frivolity. This from a man who uses a bear in a straightjacket as an icon. If it was a rully rully serious blog, the bear would be dressed as Rambo, hmm, that doesn't work, Rambo should have been in a straightjacket.
Anyhow I was simply making a scientific observation based on the number of women who comment on his blog (and at the strangest hours) and concluding that he was a chick magnet.
This scientific hypothesis is falsifiable (ie. able to be proven wrong) by locking 20 women and Gerry in a small room and seeing who survives.
The contest will be well and truly over when the fat lady (me) sings. I have been rehearsing Gerry with a G, sung to the tune of Liza with a Z and I should be loud enough for it to be known as the song that shot the bear around the world.
In the interest of the new Bear Meme, I suggest everyone drop in to Gerry's and tell him 10 things you like about his blog. Now don't forget, it's a serious blog so no frivolous statements like "If the bear has 10 toes I like his blog because I'm a foot freak."
We all need serious blogs now that the circus known as Parliament is nearly over and there is nothing as serious as the bear when he gets going over a bottle of Cab Sav.
Official disclaimer. This statement was made in the interests of serious blogging and Gerry is not paying me by the numbers of completed memes.
Anyhow I was simply making a scientific observation based on the number of women who comment on his blog (and at the strangest hours) and concluding that he was a chick magnet.
This scientific hypothesis is falsifiable (ie. able to be proven wrong) by locking 20 women and Gerry in a small room and seeing who survives.
The contest will be well and truly over when the fat lady (me) sings. I have been rehearsing Gerry with a G, sung to the tune of Liza with a Z and I should be loud enough for it to be known as the song that shot the bear around the world.
In the interest of the new Bear Meme, I suggest everyone drop in to Gerry's and tell him 10 things you like about his blog. Now don't forget, it's a serious blog so no frivolous statements like "If the bear has 10 toes I like his blog because I'm a foot freak."
We all need serious blogs now that the circus known as Parliament is nearly over and there is nothing as serious as the bear when he gets going over a bottle of Cab Sav.
Official disclaimer. This statement was made in the interests of serious blogging and Gerry is not paying me by the numbers of completed memes.
Monday, December 05, 2005
DARK GREY TO BLACK
I have just had my heart torn out, crushed, run over by a mac truck and bulldozed back into the black hole I'd just managed to reach the top of. I can't cry anymore, I did that from the front gate to the front door. Now I have to start climbing again. I can't even eat my way out, there's not a chocolate bar in any of the usual hiding places. I hate having a social conscience, I know there are people out there much worse off than me but give me five minutes of utter misery and then I'll start thinking of them again. Sense of humour hasn't quite deserted me this time. I could go on a cookie binge since Melbourne weight-loss experts have developed a new guilt-free cookie. It consists of seaweed, green tea, soy, cinnamon and palm fruit. It also contains wholewheat flour, oatmeal, golden syrup, eggs and dates. They have 60 per cent less saturated fat and trans fatty acids, 80 per cent moe protein 25 per cent less carbohydrates and 40 per cent less salt. And they contain less than one third the saturated fat of an average chocolate biscuit. If I want to know more I can go to www.heathyeatingclub.org. Are you kidding? Person in emotional pain here!! Person in need of boxes of tissues and large, large boxes of chocolates not bloody seaweed. Damn, where's the swear tin? I'm not a fish, I'm shattered, unconsolable (inconsolable?). I'd kick the cat but I think it's dying, nup it's started to breathe again, just as well I can't afford the vet. Back to me and my broken heart in need of a cookie binge which I am not going to get. What kind of demented moron designs seaweed and green tea cookies? And palm fruit? I thought dates were palm fruit. I bet the demented moron is thin and emotionally healthy. I might feel better if I could stuff Dr Soo's Most Nutritious Biscuit into his nearest available orifice. Now there's a blowfly in the room, annoying bludger and that goes for the huntsman spider in the corner. The only reason you're alive mate is to eat the flies, now do it or you're on the list with Dr Soo for orifice stuffing.
Gerry, you're right, there is a God, I've just remembered the port. A hangover is just what I need to take my mind off seaweed and black holes.
Gerry, you're right, there is a God, I've just remembered the port. A hangover is just what I need to take my mind off seaweed and black holes.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
TOLERANCE
This is not a post about whether I believe in God, agnosticism, atheism or any other belief system. When pushed to say what I believed in, I said atheism but after some thought I have to admit I have no beliefs whatsoever and I don't care about it, one way or the other.
I have me and my decision to do bad or good in the world is mine alone.
I had made a note some time ago when the intelligent design argument started and that was whether Islamic scientists had the same problem reconciling faith with scientific teaching. I found the example of a Pakistani physicist who used a verse in the Koran to calculate that heaven is receding from the earth at 1 centimetre per second less than the speed of light.
New Scientist, October 8, 2005 has a special report on Fundamentalism including an article on science being fundamentalist too.
New Scientist's definition is "Fundamentalist religions are driven by a desire to get "back to basics", to turn the clock back to a supposed golden age, when their religion was untainted by secular influences. They fervently believe that they alone are in possession of the truth - usually an overtly, literal interpretation of a saced text - and an equally fervent desire to impose that truth on others. And, unlike mainstream religion, they cannot tolerate dissent. As cultural theorist Stuart Sim of the University of Sunderland in the UK puts it; "You're either in the charmed circle of believers or you're the enemy".
This is also from the same issue of New Scientist, "There is no science of history and no technology that will save us from the future, scientific fundamentalism deludes us with dreams of competence; it expects too much of this world, just as religious fundamentalism expects too much of the next".
What it all boils down to is one human being determined to impose their particular faith, whether religious or scientific, on another human being. We can make decisions with the heart or the head but I don't need a sacred text of any kind to tell me what is wrong or right. You can teach me about religion and I can experience science but I will resist both of them being imposed upon me.
The one thing I value above all others is tolerance and I am still reaching for it.
I have me and my decision to do bad or good in the world is mine alone.
I had made a note some time ago when the intelligent design argument started and that was whether Islamic scientists had the same problem reconciling faith with scientific teaching. I found the example of a Pakistani physicist who used a verse in the Koran to calculate that heaven is receding from the earth at 1 centimetre per second less than the speed of light.
New Scientist, October 8, 2005 has a special report on Fundamentalism including an article on science being fundamentalist too.
New Scientist's definition is "Fundamentalist religions are driven by a desire to get "back to basics", to turn the clock back to a supposed golden age, when their religion was untainted by secular influences. They fervently believe that they alone are in possession of the truth - usually an overtly, literal interpretation of a saced text - and an equally fervent desire to impose that truth on others. And, unlike mainstream religion, they cannot tolerate dissent. As cultural theorist Stuart Sim of the University of Sunderland in the UK puts it; "You're either in the charmed circle of believers or you're the enemy".
This is also from the same issue of New Scientist, "There is no science of history and no technology that will save us from the future, scientific fundamentalism deludes us with dreams of competence; it expects too much of this world, just as religious fundamentalism expects too much of the next".
What it all boils down to is one human being determined to impose their particular faith, whether religious or scientific, on another human being. We can make decisions with the heart or the head but I don't need a sacred text of any kind to tell me what is wrong or right. You can teach me about religion and I can experience science but I will resist both of them being imposed upon me.
The one thing I value above all others is tolerance and I am still reaching for it.
I LIKE.....
I like him. He's my latest addition to the fridge door. His eyes are blue and stops me in my tracks. If they were green I'd be halfway to anorexic. Nothing like a box of eye candy for Christmas.
I also like him. I love Sea Otters, neck and neck with Penguins. Sea Otters have incredibly dense and beautiful fur, up to one million hairs per square inch. No good for the fridge door, he'd never keep me from food.
I also like him. I love Sea Otters, neck and neck with Penguins. Sea Otters have incredibly dense and beautiful fur, up to one million hairs per square inch. No good for the fridge door, he'd never keep me from food.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
HARRY POTTER RULES!
The things I do to see a film. Like leaving home before M's morning call to walk 20 minutes to catch a bus, get off and catch another bus to giant shopping complex to be on time for the film. Except some idiot gave me the wrong time for Gold Class, morons. The little sweetheart on ticket duty took pity on me and put me right in the centre of the commoners' theatre with a vacant seat either side. At least that's the way I'm taking it, it could also be that she was taking no chances on me breaking the arms off both seats to fit in. In Gold Class there are no steps which makes it easy for me to glide in gracefully. In the other, I have to go sideways, one step at a time because there is nothing to hang onto. I would fall and get free tickets for a year if I wasn't so frightened of pain and the humilation of fifteen people trying to get me off the ground.
I hadn't had breakfast, always bad for co-ordination and the ice coffee I ordered somehow got its straw tangled in my dress and spread itself like a dose of bird flu over me and three tables. I stood there looking so pathetic they kindly gave me a freebie. I didn't have the heart to tell them I always look pathetic any time before ten in the morning.
I like to be seated before the hordes arrive although I enjoy the fear in their eyes as I lumber past to my seat. Bad, bad mistake to be early. Twenty minutes of Christmas carols and I am a captive audience. December l, the start of my seasonal disorder which doesn't end until February l. If I can see Harry Potter every week until then I might just make it. The film couldn't possibly follow the book so it focuses much more on the personalities but the dragon fight was very well done. Nice touches of humour too. So rasberries to all those movie snobs who think it's beneath them.
Also saw a preview of The Narnia Chronicles which does look impressive but I don't think I'll go because I always hated the books. King Kong looks great on special effects but I don't like it when animals die in the end even the computer generated ones. And now for something weird, our local church advertises at the movies, coming on right after the PlayPal Palace ad.
I hadn't had breakfast, always bad for co-ordination and the ice coffee I ordered somehow got its straw tangled in my dress and spread itself like a dose of bird flu over me and three tables. I stood there looking so pathetic they kindly gave me a freebie. I didn't have the heart to tell them I always look pathetic any time before ten in the morning.
I like to be seated before the hordes arrive although I enjoy the fear in their eyes as I lumber past to my seat. Bad, bad mistake to be early. Twenty minutes of Christmas carols and I am a captive audience. December l, the start of my seasonal disorder which doesn't end until February l. If I can see Harry Potter every week until then I might just make it. The film couldn't possibly follow the book so it focuses much more on the personalities but the dragon fight was very well done. Nice touches of humour too. So rasberries to all those movie snobs who think it's beneath them.
Also saw a preview of The Narnia Chronicles which does look impressive but I don't think I'll go because I always hated the books. King Kong looks great on special effects but I don't like it when animals die in the end even the computer generated ones. And now for something weird, our local church advertises at the movies, coming on right after the PlayPal Palace ad.
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