I just read that, here in California, Prop 8 passed. For those of you not in California, Prop 8 is a wingnut ballot initiative to change the state's constitution to redefine marriage as being strictly between a man and a women. That's nice, soft, Chamber of Commerce language for, don't let the fags get married. Last night, before going to bed, I got a little nervous when I saw it was passing.
No problem. Never happen. This is California.
Then I wake up this morning and read . . . wait. That can't be right. More coffee.
It passed?
What the fuck? Here, in California? Home of San Francisco and Hollywood? We invented the liberal elitist. This is our house, motherfuckers! Isn't Mississippi and Arkansas and Alabama enough for you? It's not like we were planning to force feed arugula to your kids or make them write book reports on Heather Has Two Mommies. They must have got every cowboy in Bakersfield to get to the polls for that one.
I'm not gay and I'm not married. The first by choice and the second by lucky circumstance (I dodged a bullet once). But I just don't understand why people are so uptight over the subject of gay marriage. Who cares? Let them discover for themselves what nearly every single married human being I've ever known my entire life has told me: marriage is slow death. Wait, no. Marriage is, um, difficult.
This could be the start of a dangerous trend. Those conservatives never rest. This could be the first assault wave of a coming conservative invasion. What's next, a constitutional amendment banning brie cheese?
I didn't think this idiot measure had a hope in hell of passing here. Oh well, it was an otherwise splendid night.
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