Keith Olbermann often warms the cockles of my heart, but this special commentary on the shameless passage of Prop 8 banning gay marriage in California is especially powerful, impassioned and spot on.
Here are but a few perspectives on why it is essential that we California's fight for what's right and vote down the despicable Proposition 8 with a landslide. The idea that we should write discriminatory, religion-driven intolerance and inequality into law is revolting. Anti-gay marriage legislation is the incestuous cousin of the anti-miscegenation Laws prohibition interracial marriage that were constitutional until 1967! Stamp out this kind of disgusting bigotry and descrimination. SAY NO TO PROP 8 in California, and any similar legislation like it across the country (and the world). The pursuit of life, liberty and happiness surely includes everyone regardless of whom they love. These are the real traditional American values to stand by and protect.
For a glimpse at the twisted logic behind the divisive Yes on Prop 8 people, take a look at this ridiculous mess of lies and scare tactics. It's like white racists in Little Rock fighting for their so-called "right" to not have their children schooled alongside African American kids, or white male clubs defending their "right" not admit people of color or women. This kind of blind, stupid hatred has no place in America, or anywhere for that matter. So fucking what if your kids learn that people who love each other can get married regardless of gender? I think the idea of raising a new generation of kids who are open-minded and tolerant is a beautiful fabulous idea.
People have always complained that I'm too loud. My voice carries and the result isn't always euphonious. I'm the one that you can hear all the way across the restaurant/the
bus/the lobby/the café. The one making the inappropriate remarks at the top of her voice. The one whose passionate opinions sometimes feel like a frontal assault. The one who is dying for you to be passionate and articulate enough about what you believe to convince me that I've been wrong about everything all along. I'm the one you look askance at sometimes when you think that I'm not looking. The one you sometimes wish was you. The one that you're mostly grateful you are not. The one who is called toward the great demotic flood of pedestrian humanity and the extraordinariness of the ordinary. The one who craves idealistic purity but lives with my hands dirty up the elbows with gorgeous quotidian life. The one who gets involved with all the wrong people, takes home strays, adopts lost causes, makes poor judgments, says all the wrong things and rages against disappointment because I've sworn to live with the consequences and to live without regret. Growing up meant realizing that this was going to be difficult.