Tag Archives: homophobia

the Tradition Marriage Museum…Not!

Posted on by Standard Respond

 

if a homosexual lies down with a tree...in turn does the tree get put to death

if a homosexual lies down with a tree…in turn does the tree get put to death

The National Marriage Organization

Welcome to our new organization promoting traditional marriage! Here are five short videos explaining our beliefs. Start with whatever topic you like most.

Here is a wonderfully autonomous list of choices in case your a homophobic homosexual and/or speared by your own identity confusion heterosexual:

1.Defining tradition marriage…

Basically, this little video fills us all in on the right and wrong positions to take in and out of the bedroom.

2.You are already equal, in other words, everyone has equal opportunity to do as we say not as we do.

3. Leviticus!  And, of course, the moral majority‘s take on what the bible is really saying.

If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death.

There were two other very important statements about how to STRAIGHTEN ourselves out but I got bored.

 

Okay, now, Ambien Grace has laid down with a married women+ mother is homophobic= threat to disown and dress said child in traditional ‘female’ cloth.  Pink, polyester and other unnatural fabrics.

Married woman + Dumbed Down 23 year old= in many countries-death by stone.

Uganda+ homosexuality= death no matter if you happened to be next to a homo or sharing a bus seat with them.  In that neck of the woods, your best bet is to be seen reading Leviticus over and over and over again, whilst, professing abstinence from any and all objects that protrude.

I have lied down with many things…dogs, cats, my Higher Power, my mother and on rare occasions, the earth.  I wonder what Jesus thinks of all this?  The government in the shitter because it cannot get out of it’s own immoral way to make sound moral decisions.

The closeted homosexuals who live in fear of loss of job and/or loss of faith.  And, what of the many, educated and playing around with the idea of being politically correct; are not those persons just as impure as the thoughts that cross my mind?

My grand nephews are of mixed and melted blood.  The are what many would call, coffee with light cream.  Adorable and playful.  Innocent and full of questions.  Do you suppose they too are corrupted simply by the shameful uniqueness of their skin?

do you think he knows that one chair is different from the other & does he really care?

do you think he knows that one chair is different from the other & does he really care?

I don’t know I suppose we are all evil and corruptible.  Even the bible tells us so!

the Difference Between an Oreo & a Vanilla Wafer

Posted on by Standard 1
Walk on the Wild Side (Lou Reed song)

Walk on the Wild Side (Lou Reed song) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Fortunately, though I am old, I have not distanced myself from those deemed ‘young.’
Therefore, I know of which I speak.
Quick run down:
Several piercings before piercings were made accountable by the mainstream public. Several tattoos from various parts of seedy little run down towns dotting the Southeastern seaboard. Many scars of which I have been made stronger. And, a liberally maladjusted attitude in which I say, ‘does not play well with others.’
What is the difference between an Oreo and a Vanilla Wafer? Not a fuckin’ thing! What is the difference between you and I? Black and white? Gay or straight? Avant-garde or Dick and Jane?
I heard a song today in the bowels of a kennel to which I am fortunate enough to occasionally let the animals know, I’m okay your okay.  It was there I heard the old turn new again.

I asked my co-worker/nonconformist friend;
“Who the hell is that? I love that song.”
Marilyn Manson had been the answer.

Marilyn Manson in the music video for "Th...
“Oh, yes, good ole Marilyn.”
I knew someone who listened to Mr. Manson to be different for they had been straight as the edge of their not well intentioned college diploma. She dismayed me with vain stabs at conformity outside the box.


But the truly unusual have been given a bad rap since the day of the written word.
They have been the Einstein’s, the Capote’s, the Martin, Luther and John’s.
Tonight I feel like singing and listening and reveling in my uniqueness for it has given me my pride and my ‘zing’, my ying and my yang.
Marilyn is my age…go figure. Yet, he reminded me of another born unto ‘does not fit into any label’ artist; Louis Reed.
I will sit back and download Marilyn’s song and add to my music list along with Lou.
I will dunk my Oreo cookie in a big vat of milk and think:
Imagination is far more powerful than knowledge!

Dope Show

The drugs they say make us feel so hollow We love in vain narcissistic and so shallow The cops and queers to swim you have to swallow Hate today, no love for tomorrow

We’re all stars now in the dope show
We’re all stars now in the dope show

There’s a lot of pretty, pretty ones That want to get you high But all the pretty, pretty ones Will leave you low and blow your mind

We’re all stars now in the dope show
We’re all stars now in the dope show

They love you when you’re on all the covers
When you’re not then they love another

The drugs they say are made in California We love your face We’d really like to sell you The cops and queers make good-looking models I hate today Who will I wake up with tomorrow?

They love you when you’re on all the covers
When you’re not then they love another

They’ll blow your mind

We’re all stars now in the dope show
We’re all stars now in the dope show

 

Walk on the Wild Side

Holly came from Miami, Florida Hitch-hiked her way across the U.S.A.

Plucked her eyebrows on the way Shaved her legs and then he was a she.

She says, “Hey, babe Take a walk on the wild side“

She said, “Hey, honey Take a walk on the wild side”

Candy came from out on the Island In the back room she was everybody’s darling.

But she never lost her head Even when she was giving head.
She says, “Hey, babe Take a walk on the wild side”

Said, “Hey, babe Take a walk on the wild side” And the colored girls go “Doo do doo do doo do do doo …”

Little Joe never once gave it away.

Everybody had to pay and pay. A hustle here and a hustle there New York City’s the place where they said, “Hey, babe Take a walk on the wild side”

I said, “Hey, Joe take a walk on the wild side”

Sugar Plum Fairy came and hit the streets.

Looking for soul food and a place to eat.

Went to the Apollo.

You should’ve seen them go, go, go.

They said, “Hey, sugar take a walk on the wild side.”

I said, “Hey, babe take a walk on the wild side.”

Jackie is just speeding away.

Thought she was James Dean for a day.

Then I guess she had to crash.

Valium would have helped that bash.

Said, “Hey, babe take a walk on the wild side.”

I said, “Hey, honey take a walk on the wild side.”
And the colored girls say
“doo do doo do doo do do doo …”

GOD BLESS THE FREAKS EVERYWHERE

An Unclean Woman in the Hand…

Posted on by Standard Respond
still waters need to be stirred...at least twice a day

still waters need to be stirred…at least twice a day

So, as summer progressed, not quite a year ago. A following and routine had transpired my dull and mundane job of reviewing bed breakfast items for a poorly run newspaper…
My once un-chaotic and patented life became transfixed on the HOMOPHOBIC lesbian undercover as my real life boss.
What was a gal to do? After all and pay attention to the details, this is how I saw things without rose-colored glasses on:
-Book about to be published, no real genre or plot for next middle of the road offering from my unpolished mind.
-Constant disdain for those who turn the worlds of others into their playground with their vain attempts of being ‘cool’.
-Never a follower, I had always stayed to the thicket and managed to veer off the road when it came to life.
-Un-politically correct in a liberal politically correct sort of way, forty years of trying to make Bless the Freaks a common household term and disavowing those with silver Ben n Jerry Ice Cream Scoops up their mindless souls had led my intentions and conflictions.

aint' much of a girlfriend...never seem to get along.

aint’ much of a girlfriend…never seem to get along.

Yup, I had been ready for the plight of the flight of the anti-hero and non avenger Ambien/Annie Grace.
Hard as it was…it really was not all that difficult to set the ball of bias formed into a twenty-two year old stout frame, rolling. The ‘edgy writer’ caught the fray of the apron string Ambien/Annie could not let go. And, well, as the saying goes, I sat back and enjoyed the ride.
The sex? Well, it was no surprize the young lass had turned other admirer’s to stone. She had no rhythm and certainly, her romantic side seemed like a bad nursery rhyme.
First time, the boss’s desk at work. Had there been any concern for ‘getting caught in the act’? Nope, I was with the boss.
Obstacle? Just one and I suffered with that particular ’pre pubescent pain’ for five months…Our young and fearless leader had only known one form of sexual position…masturbating herself into a frenzy.
One sided fuckin’ is really and quite naturally for the birds. But for the sake of the storyline I endured a lasting and constant lump in the middle of the throat. Akin to wanting to throw up but you just can’t bring yourself to do it.
The first session with the dog whisperer Ambien/Annie Grace and her companion Beckett Couvillion the third-overbred rich dog, just about knocked the wind out of my salient sails.
“Can I do this…I wondered to myself…this will be nothing but pure taunting sexual torture and not the fun kind, mind you.”
However, after the hour-long session on the desk slowly faded into my not lover’s response of ‘I’ll try better next time.’
She stigmatized me with her family history of bigotry, bias, badly behaved state professors and unnatural affection toward family members.
On second thought, I think I can hang on for a bit longer and so I did. With a bad taste in my mouth and the scent of an unclean woman on my hands, I awaited my next assignment.

Only the Names have Changed

Posted on by Standard Respond
...to continue to unearth our own is merely to serve ourselves injustice

…to continue to unearth our own is merely to serve ourselves injustice

The Other Side of AIDS

The Other Side of AIDS (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“He removes the greatest ornament of friendship, who takes away from it respect.” by Cicero.

Way back yonder up ’round the Blue Ride Parkway pass the turnpike of twenty-two…back when adults were adults. They were neither old, nor young nor anything in between.
I had the privilege to become acquainted with a vast array of individuals. It had been during the peak of AIDS season and all hands on deck were needed.
Weaverville North Carolina seemed like Mayberry on Crack but still as friendly as can be when your back wasn’t turned.
A fresh-faced but frightened lesbian in a new land, volunteering seemed the only way OUT per say.
After all I had been semi-OUT for quite sometime. Matter of fact the city of Asheville North Carolina and their wives have offered to write me romantic references.
W.N.C.A.P., Western North Carolina AIDS Coalition Program needed persons to be buddies, caretakers, nurses and all around, some one to lean on.
It was there in the Blue Hues of the Pines nestled amongst a cityscape that I met, Ricki.
Ricki had been a drag queen, a latent flamer and a wonderful story-teller.
So severe had his case been that during one ‘ignorant’ dentist appointment, the examination room had been covered wall to wall with tarps. Oh, the fear of those damned homosexuals. The unwarranted hatred smelt like a fishery during a heat wave.

I took Ricki everywhere for at the later stages of AIDS and way before any age of slowing down the horrible and debilitating process; my young friend turned oddly ancient had every infection known to man or woman.
On one particular trip down off the Blue Ridge Parkway, struggling to get the over sized wheelchair out of my beat up Escort, Ricki began to weep quietly as I picked him up and steadied him for transport back to the dungeon called ‘poverty apartment’ living.
“I have just one wish…One wish and I’d be happy to go tomorrow. I want my ashes to lay upon Mount Mitchell. I want to soar with the eagles.”
Hard core, ridden roughly and hung up wet had been my typical demeanor. But at that remark I too could not help the tears from falling.
“It’ll be taken care of! Don’t you worry.”
With that I gave him a kiss on the cheek and shook his hand in promise of a better day.
The next day Ricki had passed away due to every complication there is to be complicated by.
A service had been held. Members from the project, friends, lovers and dreamers gathered to pay heed to this gentle man.
Not a single relative arrived on that day or any other day.
A letter had been sent.
To Whom it May Concern:
Ricki has not been a part of this family for many years. And, in fact, has been considered not a part of this family the day he told us he was a homosexual.
Please do as you see fit with the body.
Thank you
Blah, Blah, Blah

Ricki soared with the eagles. I see him every spring when a fresh batch of winter birds fly north for the summer.
Perhaps, the loss of his soul to homophobia. The loss of others due to suicide via the shaming of our OUT preference by those who are indeed, also, closeted-ly gay. Perhaps, all of the above stops me on many occasions. Causes a stir of anger and a thrust of distrust amongst our own.
When the Ambiens’, the Annie‘s, the Gracie‘s of this world. The young adults as we call them.
Hide from their own fear and take the whole lot of us ten years back; I cringed and vow redemption.
A daily prayer that I will not forget those who have gone before me and made my closet easier to open.
A mantra to bring into the light those of keep us still well hidden.