There are people sleeping on the street in SLC.

What are they waiting for, you ask? The second coming? The return of Elvis? Armageddon?

No, no. That would be far too interesting. They are, in fact, waiting for this:




That would be a parade. A standard, boring, marching-band-and-float filled parade. But here in Utah, this parade is a BIG DEAL because it is the 24th of July--the day the Mormons came to Utah, displacing the Ute Indians in the process.

I am not from Utah. I have lived here for four years, and plan on leaving soon. Many times, I have been tempted to write about the backwards nature of this state--the overwhelming levels of ignorance, inappropriate dominance of church over state, mind-boggling sprawl, swarms of people, and horrifically bad driving. Utah, above all else, has reinforced my values, my desire for social justice, and my frustration with those who willfully ignore the problems of the world. It has taken a great deal of reflection on my part to tenuously accept the nature of this place, and not allow the anger and indignation it provokes to dominate my life.

But tonight, my husband drove me through the streets of Salt Lake City. Tonight I saw thousands of middle-upper class Mormon families congregating, uninvited, on stranger's front lawns, in front of private businesses, in parking lots, and on street corners. They came with tents, sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, lawn chairs, folding chairs, folding tables, inflatable mattresses, inflatable beds, and coolers. I saw elderly grandparents, middle-aged couples, teenagers, children, and even babies. Block after block, street after street, they spilled up and down the sides of the road...sometimes 20 or 30 feet deep from the curb. It was one o' clock at night when we drove by--and while some of the 'campers' were asleep, most were gathered in groups, gossiping and screeching and yelling and playing games.

I couldn't take it all in. My head began to hurt. It was the middle of the night, and downtown Salt Lake City--purportedly the "liberal oasis" of Utah--had been taken over by a state-sanctioned religious celebration.

I felt sick.

I still can't find the words to describe everything wrong with the scene. On the one hand, I wanted to yell at the many police officers I saw milling about: "Why aren't you doing anything? Why aren't you arresting anyone? This is against the law, obviously. You know it, I know it, all of these people know it. And when others do this--you know, HOMELESS PEOPLE, who legitimately have nowhere to go--you do everything you can to get rid of them! So tell me, what's the difference? Is it the fact that the homeless aren't LDS? Aren't rich? Aren't dressed in freshly pressed clothing and sleeping on LL Bean camping gear...?"

On the other hand, I wanted to know what the home-owners and private business owners were feeling. Thousands of people swarmed into the city from the heavily-religious surrounding suburbs, only to turn the private property of others into personal camp sites. Were the people in the houses directly behind the tents and crowds able to sleep? Were they out there amongst the lunatics? Did they have to find someplace else to stay for the night, because of the noise? And the business owners--are they worried about vandalism? Destruction of property? Or who is going to pick up all the garbage when they return to work on the 25th...?

In any other city, this scene would cause a great deal of worry. One might think that thousands of well-off individuals sleeping on downtown streets to wait for a parade would be a prime opportunity for harassment, sexual assault, petty theft and various other indiscretions. One might think this could easily turn into something dangerous. Which is exactly why THIS WOULD NOT HAPPEN in other cities--the police force would actually do their job, enforce the law, and nullify any attempts to "set up camp" on private property.

But this is Utah. And Utah Mormons, on the whole, have a tendency to believe that the world is a safe, pristine place, where they can essentially meander through life without much heavy thinking while still getting everything they want. They do not have to worry about anything 'dirty', like reality--and when they are confronted with any kind of harsh truth, they simply purse their lips and pretend it doesn't exist. Homeless, you say? Why should there be any homeless people? The church will provide for everyone in need, so if they're homeless it must be because they WANT to be. Or, you know--because they haven't accepted that the LDS church is the one true church. Amen.

Baffling, confusing, mind-boggling. I have never in my life seen anything like I saw tonight, and I am afraid I can't convey how utterly strange and nauseating it all was. To everyone outside of Utah, be glad. And please...wish me luck. The real fun begins tomorrow.

Happy Pioneer Day.

Purity Ball Indoctrination

Adolescent girls get cozy with their dads at the Father-Daughter Purity Ball

Nancy Gibbs of TIME magazine recently penned what is, by all accounts, a glowing review of the most recent Purity Ball held in Colorado Springs, CO. At times her writing seems borderline defensive, only condescending to acknowledge criticisms of virginity pledges with pointed, dismissive summaries. Try as she might, she just doesn't seem to understand why so many people are dismayed by the patriarchal, "women-as-chattel" approach to these events:

When Kylie was 13, her parents took her on a hike in Lake Tahoe, Calif. "We discussed what it means to be a teenager in today's world," she says. They gave her a charm for her bracelet--a lock in the shape of a heart. Her father has the key. "On my wedding day, he'll give it to my husband," she explains. "It's a symbol of my father giving up the covering of my heart, protecting me, since it means my husband is now the protector."

To be crystal clear: Ladies, you are weak. You need protection. You are a piece of property, worthless in the absence of your virginity. Because of this, your father must guard your hymen until he dubs your husband worthy of breaking it. Be warned, under no circumstances should you attempt to make mature decisions on your own. You need a penis for that.

Being a former resident of the Springs area, I find it easy to visualize how this gently adulating article came to fruition. Ms. Nancy Gibbs trotted over to Colorado Springs, sixth most conservative city in the country, for an evening at the "rich white folks club" (aka The Broadmoor--a towering estate, nestled at the base of the Rocky Mountains, and home to the elite members of Colorado Springs upper class). Upon entering it's chambers, she soon found herself marveling at how impressive everything is...how CLEAN and polite and expensive and--dare I say it?--pure.

You see, it doesn't require much effort to buy into the illusion of rich, white, conservative Christians. They have the money to fabricate any fantasy they want, including the idea that Purity Balls (with little girls as young as four promising their virginity to their fathers) are somehow a healthy spiritual practice. They'll even buy themselves some frolicking child ballerinas, just to emphasize how innocent the whole affair is. With enough polish, even the most archaic, backwards, and demeaning traditions can be made to look spiffy and grand.

Out on the terrace under an almost moon, the black swans have vanished into the lake. David Diefenderfer has slipped outside for a cigarette; he's a leathery South Dakotan in a big black cowboy hat, and he hands over his card. HAVE GUN, WILL TRAVEL: BREEDER SERVICE, it says, with a picture of a syringe. He's in the cattle-reproduction business. He's also the father of nine children by seven women.

Three of his daughters are with him tonight, including 10-year-old Taylor. I asked what purity means to her. "I don't really know," she says, and she's shy about talking about all this. "But it means you make a promise to your dad to be a virgin until you are married and not have a lot of boyfriends."

So Nancy Gibbs got sucked into the fantasy. Perhaps disheartened by the harsh realities of the outside world (where people have the opportunity to make autonomous decisions, both good and bad), she entered The Broadmoor ballroom for a few hours of "let's pretend these girls are making healthy choices, and by the way, there's nothing creepy about fathers taking ownership of their daughter's hymens". Really, life is so much easier when you don't have to think.

Fortunately, when you have money and Jesus, you never have to.

Because it bears repeating:

"A Little Loud" from diewachen.com


Here’s the thing—when I approach you and let you know your kids are being “a little loud,” I’m giving you a polite hint. It’s a hint that really says, “You seem to lack any sort of discipline with your children, and it’s starting to piss me off. Provide them with a reasonable boundary, shut them up, or return to a location where the rest of civilization doesn’t have to hear the little bastards.” Don’t think their inappropriate behavior is excusable because, well, they're kids. And don’t even consider the thought that your inaction is excusable because I’m not a parent.

The fact is, “parent” is a verb as well as a noun. And just because you pulled out late or squeezed out that screaming spawn, it doesn’t mean you’ve taken the actions of a parent. It doesn’t take a lot of effort to procreate. The fact is, it happens by accident all the time, and a lot of those folks are better parents than you.

Why? Because they act like parents. And I’m not talking about the constantly pregnant housewife who thinks being a mommy is the greatest gift God could ever give her. I’m not talking about the man who thinks being a daddy means getting a real job and toughening up his boys. I’m not even talking about the nuclear family living in their overpriced, but oh-so-cute, home with their two point five children calling their aristocratic lifestyle “upper-middle class.”

You want to see someone act like a parent? Take a look at the friends, but long-separated parents who work to ensure their child understands she can embrace her dreams. Watch the single father who uses a stern voice and well-defined boundary to end his child’s temper tantrum. Glance at the child-free couple who require better discipline from their cats and dog than you do from your seven-year-old. Turn to the pre-teen forced to grow up too fast, raising her siblings as fast as she can raise herself.

You want to be a mommy? You want to be a daddy? It’s more than just fertilization and feeding. Stop calling yourself a parent, and start acting like it. And, when I politely tell you your kids are being “a little loud,” take the hint.

Jesse Helms: The world is a better place without you.

Jesse Helms, former Senator of North Carolina and notorious hate-monger, died today. He was re-elected for five terms (congratulations, North Carolina). Unfortunately, Helms had the privilege of dying peacefully, which is far more than he deserved:

"Just think about it: homosexuals, lesbians, disgusting people marching in our streets demanding all sorts of things, including the right to marry each other and the right to adopt children. How do you like them apples?"
--during a speech kicking off his 1990 re-election campaign.


"Homosexuals are weak, morally sick wretches."
-- 1995 radio broadcast


"It's their deliberate, disgusting, revolting conduct that is responsible for the disease."
-- Justifying his refusal to give financial support to families of AIDS victims.


"You needed that job and you were the best qualified, but they had to give it to a minority because of a racial quota. Is that really fair? Harvey Gantt says it is."
--from a Helms 1990 television ad


"They should ask their parents if it would be all right for their son or daughter to marry a Negro."
-- In response to Duke University students holding a vigil after Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated, 1968


"I've been portrayed as a caveman by some. That's not true. I'm a conservative progressive, and that means I think all men are equal, be they slants, beaners, or niggers."
--Jesse Helms, North Carolina Progressive, February 6, 1985, quoted from the Democratic Alliance.

The Infamous "Engagement Ring" Photo

We've all seen them. Some plucky girl or woman, freshly engaged, poses her fingers for the camera. At times, the shot includes her prideful face. But more often, it simply features her newly bedazzled hand.

Can someone explain this to me?

No, really.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I always assumed when a couple decides to commit to one another for the rest of their lives, the focus should be on...you know. One another. So when a woman announces "I'm engaged!" to her friends, family, or hell, the whole world by way of her facebook account--one might think her ecstasy would be focused on her soon-to-be spouse. One might be so bold to assume the emphasis should be, "Hey people, I'm marrying someone I'm terribly in love with, and I am so proud to let you know that I've chosen to be with them".

But apparently, one would be wrong.

Instead, we get engagement ring pictures. Loud and clear, the message rings out: "I'm engaged! I've been selected as a worthy member of the female gender! And look, look! I got this snazzy new doodad!". The (often nauseatingly expensive) jewelry sparkles and gleams--and inexplicably, throngs of women are transformed into crows flitting around a piece of shiny foil. "Show me your ring!" they squeal. Not, "I'm so happy you've chosen to spend your life with [insert partner's name]" or simply, "Tell me about your partner!". Just, "Show me, show me! Show me that token you've been given, to prove the monetary worth of your love."

Call me a cynic, call me anti-tradition (and both would be true). But forgive me if the whole thing doesn't make me a little bit sick.

Ladies, you can do better.

And now, a word on the clitoris.

Don't forget this lovely little site: www.the-clitoris.com

Shocking!

States with the highest rates of gun ownership also have the highest rates of gun death. Who would have thought?

Gun ownership correlates to gun deaths

Bleach prevents AIDS? Thanks, Abstinence-only!

ORLANDO, Fla. -- Florida teens who believe drinking a cap of bleach will prevent HIV and a shot of Mountain Dew will stop pregnancy have prompted lawmakers to push for an overhaul of sex education in the state.

Another myth is that Florida teens also believe that smoking marijuana will prevent a person from getting pregnant, Local 6 reported.

State lawmakers said the myths are spreading because of Florida's abstinence-only sex education, Local 6 reported.

They are proposing a bill that would require a more comprehensive approach, the report said.

It would still require teaching abstinence but students would also learn about condoms and other methods of birth control and disease prevention.

The bill just passed its first vote in a committee.

Because rape is so funny.

Brought to you by Todd Goldman, the maker of that misandrist classic, "Boys are stupid, throw rocks at them":

This is Todd:



Todd is a lowest-common-denominator asshole who thinks it's funny to be sexist and racist. Be sure to drop him a line:

todd@davidandgoliathtees.com
questions@davidandgoliathtees.com

God dammit, Nader.

WASHINGTON - Ralph Nader on Sunday announced a fresh bid for the White House, criticizing the top contenders as too close to big business and dismissing the possibility that his third-party candidacy could tip the election to Republicans.

The longtime consumer advocate is still loathed by many Democrats who accuse him of costing Al Gore the 2000 election."

Because that's precisely what he did. How can he possibly think it's a good idea to run again, particularly when he's being endorsed by crackpot Huckabee?

Republican Mike Huckabee welcomed Nader into the race.

"I think it always would probably pull votes away from the Democrats, not the Republicans," the former Arkansas governor said on CNN.