Activist Judges

The Supreme Court overturned Roe a week ago last Friday and it feels similar to November 2, 2004, when Oregon voters approved Measure 36, which amended Oregon's constitution and defined marriage in Oregon as being between one man and one woman.   Bleah.  Just bleah.  

I never thought that I'd have to break out the old Romanovsky & Phillips song, "Homophobes in Robes."  

On a different topic, a conversation about favorite (and unfavorite) hymns got me thinking about language.  The other month I had misheard a chant as "Dark Moon! / New Moon! / Epic Spaghetti!" — it was really "Dark Moon! / New Moon! / Endings! / Beginnings!"  This hasn't stopped me from chanting the mis-heard version and giggling, and then moving on to "Echo Echo / Amalak!" 

But afterward, I had to wonder why I was dissatisfied with the actual chant.  Part of it was the recorded delivery of it; another part was that it wasn't something like "Tenebris Luna! / Nova Luna! / Terminus! / Initium!" which is a very quick and dirty translation into Latin.  After some more consideration and experiments with phrasing and meter, the third part was that the chant I heard wasn't very melodic.  

Oh well, I suppose this is further evidence that ritual presentation is important to me.

Pre Solstice Musings

It's practically the summer solstice and the hummingbirds are particularly active this morning—I've seen two in the in the first five minutes of writing outside.  Normally, they visit the fountain in the half hour around dawn, and then at noon and sometimes in the very late afternoon.  Today has been the first clear and sunny day in about a week, so maybe they're wanting more water. 

The rainy May and June have broken the drought in the Willamette Valley; unfortunately, the rains didn't make it over the cascade mountains much, so Eastern Oregon remains in the arid grip of severe drought.  

Last Wednesday I was in a terrible funk.  This one seemed to come out of the blue—I don't know if it was sleep related, or a week of rain related, or not enough chocolate, or feeling isolated, or what.  Normally, the burdening numbness like a fist of stone living behind my ribcage only happens in January and February, which I attribute to low light levels.  By Wednesday evening, I just gave in and sat down with a bunch of Saturday Night Live comedy sketches on YouTube—which seemed to help?  In any case, Thursday didn't feel like living in a bleak Eurythmics (Sylvia or Loser or Peace) song.  

I was listening to a pod-cast the other day with Mark, which featured Neil deGrasse Tyson, and the take-away I got from it was when he said, "If your mind isn't being blown at least once a week, your not [reading, learning, or paying attention] enough."  So that's a wake-up call.

On the writing front, I am trying to get back into the groove of writing.  I'm currently working on a short story that needs the dialog and characterization tweaked.  The feedback I got was that the writing was good, but that the character's stakes were not clear and so the ending was confusing or unsatisfying.  

On the graphics front, I've been playing around with five pointed stars and trying to see how groupings other than of ten work.  

Backyard Wildlife

I continue to work a hybrid schedule, which gives me the luxury of working outside at a table on our backyard deck -- at least when it's not raining.  Hummingbirds and dragonflies visit, which is always a nice diversion.  I usually see the same two hummingbirds, and I think they have a nest in our back hedge.  Usually the dragonflies that visit are red flaming skimmers or blue meadowhawks.  Since the cats consider the yard to be the dog's territory, they don't visit and the local fauna is spared from their ravaging.  I guess that means we'll see garter snakes in a few weeks.

I read a short meme about Star Wars shortly before going to bed, and so I dreamed I was Luke Skywalker (or at least his role), either on Endor or else on the DeathStar.  There was something about child Leia living in a cartoony witch's gingerbread house while I attempted to get Ben Kenobi to take a more active role in fighting the Empire.  (No, I haven't watched any of the streaming StarWars shows.)  At one point I was jumping from the top of floating 'droid to another along a long, tall hallway so I wouldn't run into personnel -- I wondered at the time why this was effective and why no one was sounding alarms as I flew past many security cameras set high in the walls.

Musings During Pride Month

It's hard to believe that we're half-way through June already!

The weather has been chilly and damp, and people have been calling the month "Junuary."  While the grey has made seeing the morning alignment of Five Planets, or the Full Moon's conjunction with Antares difficult, I appreciate the cooler temperatures.  The flowers, I think, would like it to be warmer, as most blooms up and down the valley appear to be about two weeks behind their normal blooming times:  our irises were delayed in May, and the poppies are about a week into their openings.  

COVID has put a kibosh on various social gatherings.  First The Child caught it, probably while he was hanging out with friends; then he gave it to Mark.  Luckily they had very mild cases.  We all worked or went to school remotely.  I slept on the couch, usually with Cicero.  

Mark and I were going to go to a Pride Event at the Cascade Raptor Center, but since he was still sick and I had a close exposure by dint of sharing the house, we cancelled.  Once everyone was better, we were going to go to a family event later, and then I had a potential close exposure from a co-worker; we cancelled that because my folks are in a high-risk category.  I'm thanking my younger self for the second booster I got five weeks ago.

I'd like to go to Portland Pride—it's been about twenty years since I marched with Corvallis's After 8 group—but it's probably not the best idea from a COVID standpoint.  Mark's never been into it, and there's always a Father's Day Family Obligation that conflicts with it.

I suppose there's Eugene Pride in August; maybe COVID levels will be lower.  I wish... we had gay friends in this town we could go to Pride events with (one way or another we've dropped out of each others' lives).  I also wish I felt less like an outsider at somebody else's party when I go.  Well... if there couldn't be an outdoor (socially distanced) dance with actual dance music (instead of rhythmic noise), it might be fun if there was a tent with a carpet, black tea (or lemonade), books, and scones.  I suppose what I want is a Pride Salon Booth.  But one must consider that August in the southern Willamette Valley can be oppressively hot and arid, especially if we get a heat wave, which makes outdoor afternoon events unappealing.  Maybe it should be an ice cream salon.

On the reading front, I'm currently (and slowly) reading "Bad Gays: A Homosexual History."  When I skimmed it, it seemed like it would focus on particular queer folks.  I was hoping that there would be more contrasting and comparing of homosexual heroes, villains, and anti-heroes, like Oscar Wilde and Lord Alfred Douglas, or Hadrian and Antinous.  And the title suggested that sensational acts of wicked gays would be featured; sort of like the "Uppity Women" series, only more scandalous and over-the-top.

Actually working through it, though, it's more about class theory; the book's not focused on same-sex desire so much as it is a meditation on the concept of gay identity's essentialist, binary roots in colonialism and capitalism.  The complicated men (and women) named in each chapter aren't the book's subjects so much as they're indices for particular moments of cultural classification in mostly European and American eras.  Despite a sprinkling of catty remarks, I found myself thinking, "I must paint a factory next!" and "It might be in some dreary Socialistic periodical," as I read it.   (At least "The Raspberry Reich" was funny and had more sex scenes in it.)  I might skip to the concluding chapter, because I think the authors might have something interesting to say about existing as erotic beings outside of a system of either/or.   

[2022-06-20 edit:  They didn't; the book concluded by restating its thesis that queer / gay liberation has failed because it has not addressed the underpinning colonial and capitalist binary constructs—normal and abnormal, masculinity and femininity, Occident and "other," white and non-white, empire and colony, and moral and immoral—used by the ruling and bourgeois classes to control the worker classes.  If they suggested an alternative modality for queer people to live their queer lives, I missed it.]