Husband and Wife
3 days ago
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Modern Revelation
To Whom It May Concern (namely, pre-, post-, current, and/or recovering Mormons): [if you have no interest in my theological rabble-rousing, scroll to the bottom to find out what you can do]
Please stop your church. Now. Change your policy on marriage equality. Accept what many of your family, friends, and neighbors are telling you. Namely, that consenting adults are entitled to equal rights. Period. Or, at the very least, please back off. Keep your money and your personal views out of the government.
Thanks to y’all and your 20 million dollars, it looks like the state of California will now write discrimination into its constitution.
Here's my proposition. One of the central ideas of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is, precisely, those Latter Day Saints. It's one of the many beliefs that distinguishes the Mormon flavor of Christianity—it holds that there are prophets of the faith. Living apostles. Folks that are on this earth at this moment who God speaks to/through. Folks that keep the religion relevant to its current context. And whose constant recontextualization and reinterpretation allows for significant changes in the church dogma. You call it revelation:
Say for example, when the Church changed its position on polygamy, which it officially abandoned in 1890. Then president Wilford Woodruff stated:
Or, say, when it modified its position on the role black folks in the Church. For lots of interesting history about this point, along with black Boy Scouts, the sports boycotts of Brigham Young University, and the answer to the question, “Why are so many of the inhabitants of the earth cursed with a skin of blackness?” see here. (And before you even think about challenging my references to Wikipedia, why don’t you first check those 174 citations?)
Apostle Spencer W. Kimball acknowledged that this policy against blacks in the priesthood and participation in temple ordinances could be a result of human error:
A 1969 letter from the First Presidency read, "we believe the Negro, as well as those of other races, should have his full Constitutional privileges as a member of society."
And finally, in 1972, Spencer W. Kimball, LDS apostle and future president of the church said:
This is not love-the-sinner-hate-the-sin (and yes, to Mormons blackness was a sin, or at least a physical indicator of sin) Mormonism. This is love your neighbor and take a stand against discrimination.
These changes clearly indicate that—rather than the church inhabiting a hierarchical bubble, where God speaks to the prophet, who speaks to the elders, who speak to the congregation, and interpretation is always literal and direct—the LDS church is in dynamic relationship with the rest of culture/society. Did God change His mind about polygamy? Black folks? Or did the church adapt to what was becoming commonly accepted value in broader society? It recognized its error and/or the error of its forebears, and righted the situation.
So, there's your foundation. You and your Church not only have a responsibility to change your official viewpoint and consequent political efforts, you also have a pretty unique opportunity. Many evangelical Christianities have a very narrow, literalist interpretation of the Bible and the clear intent of God's Word (except for that whole Leviticus/Paul thing). Y'all, on the other hand, are part of a living religion. One that, in recent history, has gone through many transitions, geographically, culturally, and doctrinally. You can change. And many of you have. Either you have left the church because you found a better, happier life. Or you have found a balance, or perhaps synthesis, of the Church you were raised in and the Church you wish to be a part of.
Here’s the next level. You also have mastered the power of community and grassroots action. Capitalize on that and reclaim it. Your reach extends to the furthest corners of this world and your strong community structures—in Mormon strongholds, there are wards in every neighborhood, seminaries for every student to attend every day, mission trips for the freshly graduated, a Mormon university for the freshly returned—in short, you know how to organize.
So have a personal revelation already:
Some of you, like Brigham Young’s great-great-great grandson already have.
Get together with other pre-, post-, current, and/or recovering Mormons, and change your Church. Support these folks. Or, like I said, at least get your Church to stop meddling in—and sometimes destroying—the lives of people in my community.
If you’re still skeptical or nervously clinging to your long-held beliefs, try this little exercise: Take a stack of paper, a notepad, or a blank Word document. On the top of every page write one of your arguments against homosexuality/gay marriage. Now write the letters W-H-Y. Now answer the question. Now do it again. And again. And again. Until you agree with me. Or are so confused that you realize that your beliefs should not regulate the lives of others. And the lives of others do not influence the way that you choose to live your life. (And feel free to share your pages in the comments.)
Or, of course, if you think it’s a lost cause or you don’t give a shit ’cause you’re not Mormon, then do this.
Please stop your church. Now. Change your policy on marriage equality. Accept what many of your family, friends, and neighbors are telling you. Namely, that consenting adults are entitled to equal rights. Period. Or, at the very least, please back off. Keep your money and your personal views out of the government.
Thanks to y’all and your 20 million dollars, it looks like the state of California will now write discrimination into its constitution.
Here's my proposition. One of the central ideas of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is, precisely, those Latter Day Saints. It's one of the many beliefs that distinguishes the Mormon flavor of Christianity—it holds that there are prophets of the faith. Living apostles. Folks that are on this earth at this moment who God speaks to/through. Folks that keep the religion relevant to its current context. And whose constant recontextualization and reinterpretation allows for significant changes in the church dogma. You call it revelation:
We believe all that God has revealed, all that He does now reveal, and we believe that He will yet reveal many great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God.
Say for example, when the Church changed its position on polygamy, which it officially abandoned in 1890. Then president Wilford Woodruff stated:
There is nothing in my teachings to the Church or in those of my associates, during the time specified, which can be reasonably construed to inculcate or encourage polygamy; and when any Elder of the Church has used language which appeared to convey such teaching, he has been promptly reproved. And I now publicly declare that my advice to the Latter-day Saints is to refrain from contracting any marriage forbidden by the law of the land.
Or, say, when it modified its position on the role black folks in the Church. For lots of interesting history about this point, along with black Boy Scouts, the sports boycotts of Brigham Young University, and the answer to the question, “Why are so many of the inhabitants of the earth cursed with a skin of blackness?” see here. (And before you even think about challenging my references to Wikipedia, why don’t you first check those 174 citations?)
Apostle Spencer W. Kimball acknowledged that this policy against blacks in the priesthood and participation in temple ordinances could be a result of human error:
The doctrine or policy has not varied in my memory. I know it could. I know the Lord could change his policy and release the ban and forgive the possible error which brought about the deprivation.
A 1969 letter from the First Presidency read, "we believe the Negro, as well as those of other races, should have his full Constitutional privileges as a member of society."
And finally, in 1972, Spencer W. Kimball, LDS apostle and future president of the church said:
Intolerance by Church members is despicable. A special problem exists with respect to blacks because they may not now receive the priesthood. Some members of the Church would justify their own un-Christian discrimination against blacks because of that rule with respect to the priesthood, but while this restriction has been imposed by the Lord, it is not for us to add burdens upon the shoulders of our black brethren. They who have received Christ in faith through authoritative baptism are heirs to the celestial kingdom along with men of all other races. And those who remain faithful to the end may expect that God may finally grant them all blessings they have merited through their righteousness. Such matters are in the Lord's hands. It is for us to extend our love to all.
This is not love-the-sinner-hate-the-sin (and yes, to Mormons blackness was a sin, or at least a physical indicator of sin) Mormonism. This is love your neighbor and take a stand against discrimination.
These changes clearly indicate that—rather than the church inhabiting a hierarchical bubble, where God speaks to the prophet, who speaks to the elders, who speak to the congregation, and interpretation is always literal and direct—the LDS church is in dynamic relationship with the rest of culture/society. Did God change His mind about polygamy? Black folks? Or did the church adapt to what was becoming commonly accepted value in broader society? It recognized its error and/or the error of its forebears, and righted the situation.
So, there's your foundation. You and your Church not only have a responsibility to change your official viewpoint and consequent political efforts, you also have a pretty unique opportunity. Many evangelical Christianities have a very narrow, literalist interpretation of the Bible and the clear intent of God's Word (except for that whole Leviticus/Paul thing). Y'all, on the other hand, are part of a living religion. One that, in recent history, has gone through many transitions, geographically, culturally, and doctrinally. You can change. And many of you have. Either you have left the church because you found a better, happier life. Or you have found a balance, or perhaps synthesis, of the Church you were raised in and the Church you wish to be a part of.
Here’s the next level. You also have mastered the power of community and grassroots action. Capitalize on that and reclaim it. Your reach extends to the furthest corners of this world and your strong community structures—in Mormon strongholds, there are wards in every neighborhood, seminaries for every student to attend every day, mission trips for the freshly graduated, a Mormon university for the freshly returned—in short, you know how to organize.
So have a personal revelation already:
Each Latter-day Saint is expected to use personal revelation to determine how best to apply gospel principles and the commandments in his or her life in a path toward perfection. It is accepted that not all members will agree on how to interpret the same scripture; rather, each person is responsible to determine how it should be interpreted for himself or herself.
Some of you, like Brigham Young’s great-great-great grandson already have.
Get together with other pre-, post-, current, and/or recovering Mormons, and change your Church. Support these folks. Or, like I said, at least get your Church to stop meddling in—and sometimes destroying—the lives of people in my community.
If you’re still skeptical or nervously clinging to your long-held beliefs, try this little exercise: Take a stack of paper, a notepad, or a blank Word document. On the top of every page write one of your arguments against homosexuality/gay marriage. Now write the letters W-H-Y. Now answer the question. Now do it again. And again. And again. Until you agree with me. Or are so confused that you realize that your beliefs should not regulate the lives of others. And the lives of others do not influence the way that you choose to live your life. (And feel free to share your pages in the comments.)
Or, of course, if you think it’s a lost cause or you don’t give a shit ’cause you’re not Mormon, then do this.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
my hate-filter is broken.
my world is so full of people who love the gays (or, at the very least, like us), that i sometimes forget that people also use the term as an insult. when i cyberstalk old high school friends and attempt to learn about them via their publicly posted communication, and i read something that refers to gayness—i get all excited and think that i've found a fellow queer. then i realize that they hate us. that they hate me. (even when—actually, especially when—it's veiled in "loving the sinner" or apathetic disregard).
in my more compassionate moments, i sardonically lament their conscripted lives.
in my more compassionate moments, i sardonically lament their conscripted lives.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Some Writing Madman Fall Death Eternal
I picked up the books lying around my room today–some were buried beneath clothes or between the bed and the wall, taking a breather from the endless bed-nightstand-bag-floor cycle that designates the paths of my fresher books (as opposed to the stale ones, collecting dust on the shelf). These haven't yet been relegated back to the bookshelf because I am either in the middle of reading them or want to read them soon, but haven't gotten around to it:
Some of the Parts by T Cooper, which I read years ago and pulled out to read again after I realized that he was the guest editor for the trans issue of Out Magazine (would have linked to it, but it looks like they don't archive their issues–too bad, ’twas chock full of hot transfags)
Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg, which RayVan placed in my hands, exhorting me to read it immediately. I've had inspiration, ideas, and encouragement flying at me from all directions to start/keep/never stop writing, but it's still pretty rough. Workin' on it.
The Professor and the Madman by Simon Winchester, which Mr. B gave me for the birthday. It's "a tale of murder, insanity, and the making of the Oxford English Dictionary"—some crazy scandal that shatters the ostensible purity of the English language, written by a globe-trotting geologist. Looks great and apropos of my new gig.
When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chödrön, another placed in my hands by a beloved housemate. I know that when I open this book, I will read exactly what I need to hear at that very moment. Buddhism's kinda magical that way. Today's gem: "It's a lifetime journey to relate honestly to the immediacy of our experience and to respect ourselves enough not to judge it."
My Death by Lisa Tuttle, the limited Brit edition on loan from Timmi at Aqueduct. We'll be publishing a North American edition soon! Haven't read it yet but it promises to be "creepy but feministically delicious."
Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid by Douglas R Hofstadter ("a metaphorical fuge on minds and machines in the spirit of Lewis Carroll"), yet another treasure from the (former but lifelong) bookseller I live with. Looks to be a crazy melding of disciplines: philosophy, art history/criticism, math, physics, music. Can't wait to sink my teeth in… but it may have to wait until fall.
What am I currently, as in consistently, reading? Why, Salinger's Franny and Zooey, of course. I mean, how could I resist a small, plainly wrapped package (aside from the bright purple ribbon) dropped on my lap my a mysterious shadow blocking my sun as I napped at Cal Anderson?
To close, I shall leave you with this:
Aside: There is a high pitched tone that keeps pulsating outside of my house and all of the dogs are barking and it's driving me loony.
Some of the Parts by T Cooper, which I read years ago and pulled out to read again after I realized that he was the guest editor for the trans issue of Out Magazine (would have linked to it, but it looks like they don't archive their issues–too bad, ’twas chock full of hot transfags)
Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg, which RayVan placed in my hands, exhorting me to read it immediately. I've had inspiration, ideas, and encouragement flying at me from all directions to start/keep/never stop writing, but it's still pretty rough. Workin' on it.
The Professor and the Madman by Simon Winchester, which Mr. B gave me for the birthday. It's "a tale of murder, insanity, and the making of the Oxford English Dictionary"—some crazy scandal that shatters the ostensible purity of the English language, written by a globe-trotting geologist. Looks great and apropos of my new gig.
When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chödrön, another placed in my hands by a beloved housemate. I know that when I open this book, I will read exactly what I need to hear at that very moment. Buddhism's kinda magical that way. Today's gem: "It's a lifetime journey to relate honestly to the immediacy of our experience and to respect ourselves enough not to judge it."
My Death by Lisa Tuttle, the limited Brit edition on loan from Timmi at Aqueduct. We'll be publishing a North American edition soon! Haven't read it yet but it promises to be "creepy but feministically delicious."
Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid by Douglas R Hofstadter ("a metaphorical fuge on minds and machines in the spirit of Lewis Carroll"), yet another treasure from the (former but lifelong) bookseller I live with. Looks to be a crazy melding of disciplines: philosophy, art history/criticism, math, physics, music. Can't wait to sink my teeth in… but it may have to wait until fall.
What am I currently, as in consistently, reading? Why, Salinger's Franny and Zooey, of course. I mean, how could I resist a small, plainly wrapped package (aside from the bright purple ribbon) dropped on my lap my a mysterious shadow blocking my sun as I napped at Cal Anderson?
To close, I shall leave you with this:
Aside: There is a high pitched tone that keeps pulsating outside of my house and all of the dogs are barking and it's driving me loony.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
gay jesus
Following, you'll find a protracted comment that I posted on an old friend's blog.
First, some background. We went to high school together in Idaho, which is currently 23% Mormon (second only to Utah, at 58%).* Our high school was dominated by the Mormons: they were the majority of the student body leadership, the jocks, the cheerleaders, the AP students; even the stoners were Mormons, albeit "bad" ones. There was a seminary across the street from the school (off school property) where the LDS kids got to go for one of their free periods (yet they got credit for it like study hall — this explains it a bit). One of my closest friends was not only not allowed to do homework on the Sabbath, she wasn't even allowed to patronize any stores/restaurants because that would be complicit with someone else working on the Sabbath. The friend with whom I'm in dialogue in the following conversation was, is, and (lamentably) probably always will be a devout follower of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. And when I say devout, I mean he wouldn't drink Coke (they can't consume high amounts of caffeine, but chocolate's okay) and wouldn't write on his body (ya know how you doodle on yourself when you're bored in class?) and he would get furious if anyone even joked about writing on him — his body was a temple, literally. He went on a mission for 2 years to Samoa, got married in the temple, and is probably currently working on creating physical bodies for spirit children so that he can become a god. Really. I could go on about the Mormons in my life but that's for another post.
So my old friend, Nate, now maintains a blog here where he posts about his mission trip to Samoa, his studies in physical education, and his theological and philosophical thoughts on the world. I occasionally skim his posts to find out what he's up to, mostly ignoring the religious, self-referential dogma. Until it hit too close to home.
This is his post about gay marriage. You may read it if you like. Even if you don't, I think you'll enjoy my response:
oh, nate.
i don't know where to start or even if i should. i did so enjoy our theological debates back in high school. but the terms of the debate have shifted, namely my foundation, and i'm not sure if they can be reignited. but we'll see.
see, something i learned long ago about engaging someone in a disagreement is the concept of a criterion. as you probably know, a criterion is a principle or standard by which something may be judged or decided. it is pretty important for folks to agree upon a criterion, or criteria, before they continue with a discussion...to find a common ground from which they can make claims and warrants, a value system to appeal to in order to persuade the other person of their ideas.
i've been reading your blog for a while and considered engaging you on some of your more opinionated posts. but i've refrained because it's felt hopeless. it seems like we would both be speaking such different languages (i think we have less in common now than we did in high school since i now happily identify as an unbeliever). i've worried that since we don't seem to share many, if any, criteria for judgement, it would be futile to disagree with you.
but for a few reasons i feel compelled to reply to this post. one is that as a fellow philosopher i have to take issue with your logic. i guess i did find a common criterion - logic. two is that though our friendship currently only exists in our memories, i still have a strong memory of you as a kind-hearted and caring person. and, three is that, although it's easy for me to find the same arguments you are making all over the place, it hurts more to hear them from you. and simultaneously i have a glimmer of hope that you will hear me with open ears. plus, this post hits closer to home than some of the others, since i'm a big ol' queer myself (if you didn't already know, surprise!)
since i don't take your scriptures as anything other than interesting theological texts, i will address the other claim you make: the slippery slope argument, that the legitimation of gay marriage will lead to wholehearted acceptance of child molestation/abuse, etc. but your logic falls through the cracks with this statement: "insert-anything-worse-here-as-long-as-it's-consensual" correct me if i'm wrong, but i take this to imply that you believe that the aforementioned atrocities are consensual (you referenced the guy who locked his daughter in a basement and raped and abused her and child pornography). it seems obvious to me, so perhaps i'm misreading your meaning, but child pornography is not consensual (hence, the age of consent). rape is not consensual. locking someone in a basement for 24 years? not consensual.
analogizing gay marriage to these horrific crimes is not only just bad logic, it's hurtful and destructive. comparing me and my friends to people who abuse others nonconsensually would be like me comparing you and your family and friends to the FLDS folks in Texas (guys old enough to be the fathers of their underage wives). but growing up in idaho, and being friends with you, i know the difference between LDS and folks that have branched off from y'all. well, actually i think your comparison is worse because we don't even have a nominal similarity to rapists, pedophiles, etc.
what's particularly dangerous about persuasive and illogical rhetoric like this is that most folks who agree with you and read this won't catch that slip(ery slope). you speak to their shared disgust and revulsion of consensual relationships between folks of the same gender and incite even more hatred by comparing them to horrific non-consensual acts.
as for your paragraph of rhetorical questions, i'd love to hear your answers to them. so much depends, again, on your criteria for judgment - should the state have standards of equality separate from the church? whose right and wrong? what exactly is a "moral fabric"? is it important to you that there are (moral) absolutes in this world? why?
you quote the scriptures: "We warn that individuals who violate covenants of chastity, who abuse spouse or offspring, or who fail to fulfill family responsibilities will one day stand accountable before God." i would love to hear a polemic from you against spousal or child abuse, or how it turns your stomach to imagine a husband cheating on his wife, how you don't hate philanderers but if they repent they will become pure. but i rarely, if ever, hear religious folks spending as much time and energy expounding upon the horrors of these other, very rampant, sins. (as a side note, i don't believe in compulsory monogamy either, but that's another conversation)
which is why i call into question your claim that you don't hate "homosexuals." i'm not saying that you do hate the gays because the verifiability of emotions is an oxymoron. you are the expert on your own feelings. but what i want to question is the role that that statement plays in your (and many others') argument against homo love. why do y'all feel so compelled to say it? why did i feel so compelled to say "love the sinner, hate the sin" back-in-the-day when i felt similarly? i'm not really sure, but it feels like an intense contradiction which attempts to cover over all of the hatred incited by your preceding words which construct a world where gay folks are disgusting, comparable to rapists and pedophiles, and secretly planning to take over the world in the name of all that is holy.
i've done my best to keep the terms of this response civil and respectful. though this can prove trying at times when it feels like my very existence is nauseating to you and yours. but even when it's trying and perhaps a bit too personal, i do love a good debate, and you, my dear, are a worthy opponent.
hope you are well,
jesse vernon
p.s. thought you'd find these interesting:
http://www.kcpw.org/article/5722
http://www.glaad.org/publications/archive_detail.php?id=4324
i don't know where to start or even if i should. i did so enjoy our theological debates back in high school. but the terms of the debate have shifted, namely my foundation, and i'm not sure if they can be reignited. but we'll see.
see, something i learned long ago about engaging someone in a disagreement is the concept of a criterion. as you probably know, a criterion is a principle or standard by which something may be judged or decided. it is pretty important for folks to agree upon a criterion, or criteria, before they continue with a discussion...to find a common ground from which they can make claims and warrants, a value system to appeal to in order to persuade the other person of their ideas.
i've been reading your blog for a while and considered engaging you on some of your more opinionated posts. but i've refrained because it's felt hopeless. it seems like we would both be speaking such different languages (i think we have less in common now than we did in high school since i now happily identify as an unbeliever). i've worried that since we don't seem to share many, if any, criteria for judgement, it would be futile to disagree with you.
but for a few reasons i feel compelled to reply to this post. one is that as a fellow philosopher i have to take issue with your logic. i guess i did find a common criterion - logic. two is that though our friendship currently only exists in our memories, i still have a strong memory of you as a kind-hearted and caring person. and, three is that, although it's easy for me to find the same arguments you are making all over the place, it hurts more to hear them from you. and simultaneously i have a glimmer of hope that you will hear me with open ears. plus, this post hits closer to home than some of the others, since i'm a big ol' queer myself (if you didn't already know, surprise!)
since i don't take your scriptures as anything other than interesting theological texts, i will address the other claim you make: the slippery slope argument, that the legitimation of gay marriage will lead to wholehearted acceptance of child molestation/abuse, etc. but your logic falls through the cracks with this statement: "insert-anything-worse-here-as-long-as-it's-consensual" correct me if i'm wrong, but i take this to imply that you believe that the aforementioned atrocities are consensual (you referenced the guy who locked his daughter in a basement and raped and abused her and child pornography). it seems obvious to me, so perhaps i'm misreading your meaning, but child pornography is not consensual (hence, the age of consent). rape is not consensual. locking someone in a basement for 24 years? not consensual.
analogizing gay marriage to these horrific crimes is not only just bad logic, it's hurtful and destructive. comparing me and my friends to people who abuse others nonconsensually would be like me comparing you and your family and friends to the FLDS folks in Texas (guys old enough to be the fathers of their underage wives). but growing up in idaho, and being friends with you, i know the difference between LDS and folks that have branched off from y'all. well, actually i think your comparison is worse because we don't even have a nominal similarity to rapists, pedophiles, etc.
what's particularly dangerous about persuasive and illogical rhetoric like this is that most folks who agree with you and read this won't catch that slip(ery slope). you speak to their shared disgust and revulsion of consensual relationships between folks of the same gender and incite even more hatred by comparing them to horrific non-consensual acts.
as for your paragraph of rhetorical questions, i'd love to hear your answers to them. so much depends, again, on your criteria for judgment - should the state have standards of equality separate from the church? whose right and wrong? what exactly is a "moral fabric"? is it important to you that there are (moral) absolutes in this world? why?
you quote the scriptures: "We warn that individuals who violate covenants of chastity, who abuse spouse or offspring, or who fail to fulfill family responsibilities will one day stand accountable before God." i would love to hear a polemic from you against spousal or child abuse, or how it turns your stomach to imagine a husband cheating on his wife, how you don't hate philanderers but if they repent they will become pure. but i rarely, if ever, hear religious folks spending as much time and energy expounding upon the horrors of these other, very rampant, sins. (as a side note, i don't believe in compulsory monogamy either, but that's another conversation)
which is why i call into question your claim that you don't hate "homosexuals." i'm not saying that you do hate the gays because the verifiability of emotions is an oxymoron. you are the expert on your own feelings. but what i want to question is the role that that statement plays in your (and many others') argument against homo love. why do y'all feel so compelled to say it? why did i feel so compelled to say "love the sinner, hate the sin" back-in-the-day when i felt similarly? i'm not really sure, but it feels like an intense contradiction which attempts to cover over all of the hatred incited by your preceding words which construct a world where gay folks are disgusting, comparable to rapists and pedophiles, and secretly planning to take over the world in the name of all that is holy.
i've done my best to keep the terms of this response civil and respectful. though this can prove trying at times when it feels like my very existence is nauseating to you and yours. but even when it's trying and perhaps a bit too personal, i do love a good debate, and you, my dear, are a worthy opponent.
hope you are well,
jesse vernon
p.s. thought you'd find these interesting:
http://www.kcpw.org/article/5722
http://www.glaad.org/publications/archive_detail.php?id=4324
He responded in this post, to which i may respond at some point. Right now it feels futile because, as my pal josh says, it's very convenient to make religious arguments when you appeal to an omnipotent power: I'm right because god says so. (which is pretty much the gist of his response)
I'd love honest feedback — was I too harsh? was it too ad-hominem (can that be used as an adjective?)? are you baffled that I'm even engaging in this? Whaddya think?
*U.S. Religious Landscape Survey 2008, the Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life, pp 99-100.
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