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Actual Headline
2nd lesbian blogger revealed as man. That's the headline given to this AP story about "Paula Brooks" by the the Mercury News, and tweeted without edit by @BreakingNews.
Whoooooooooooooops. I think you mean "Second man admits masquerading as lesbian blogger."
That's not a semantic difference.
Editor of "Lez Get Real" Also Not Gay, Not a Girl
This morning, I wrote about a straight American man admitting that the "Gay Girl in Damascus," Amina Abdallah Araf al Omari, was a fictional character he had created.
This afternoon, the editor of "Lez Get Real," known as "Paula Brooks," on whose site "Amina" had written before launching "Gay Girl in Damascus," revealed he, too, is a straight man named Bill Graber.
Just one day after the author behind a popular Syrian lesbian blog admitted to being a married, American man named Tom MacMaster, the editor of the lesbian news site Lez Get Real, with the tagline "A Gay Girl's View on the World," acknowledged that he is also a man.Supposedly neither man had any idea that the other was running a scam: "Amina often flirted with Brooks, neither of the men realizing the other was pretending to be a lesbian." Yeesh.
"Paula Brooks," editor of Lez Get Real since its founding in 2008, is actually Bill Graber, 58, a retired Ohio military man and construction worker who said he had adopted his wife's identity online. Graber said she was unaware he had been using her name on his site.
...Brooks had told reporters at The Washington Post that she could only speak on the phone through her father because she was deaf. She provided a photograph of her license as proof of her identity, which showed a woman named Paula Brooks.
On Monday, we continued to question her identity. We spoke to the man who identified himself as her father, who finally admitted after numerous telephone conversations: "I am Paula Brooks." That man turned out to be Bill Graber.
Graber said he started the site to write about gay issues after seeing the mistreatment of close friends who were a lesbian couple. He said the site was "done with the best of intentions." As a former Air Force pilot, he also said he used the site to argue in favor of the Don't Ask Don't Tell repeal.
"I didn't start this with my name because... I thought people wouldn't take it seriously, me being a straight man," he said.
For the record, I am a woman. And I can confirm that all the women contributing regularly to this site are also women. (File Under: Things I Never Thought I'd Write.)
Film Corner!
Below is the trailer for the upcoming film Overboard 2: This Time It's a Drama The Vow, starring Nicholas Sparks' The Notebook's Rachel McAdams and Nicholas Sparks' Dear John's Channing Tatum. Way to tap into that Nicholas Sparks barf-magic without going to all the trouble of waiting for Nicholas Sparks to write another barf-book on which your barf-movie could be barf-based, makers of The Vow!
Rachel McAdams and Channing Tatum (who, in my mind, is always called Channing Tatum O'Neal, and has a difficult relationship—and upcoming reality series!—with his father Channing Ryan O'Neal, star of the most boring movie of all time, Channing Barry Lyndon) are getting married. "I vow to live within the warmth of your heart," says Rachel McAdams. "I promise to never forget that this is a once-in-a-lifetime love," says Channing Tatum O'Neal, and they are pronounced "man and wife" right before they are chased out of the museum in which they're having their guerrilla wedding, thus establishing that these unique, hip, straight white kids are QUIRKY REBELS but definitely not feminists. Eww.
"Life's all about moments of impact," says Channing Tatum O'Neal in voiceover, over scenes of the couple having the totally-not-trite impactful moments of all quirky rebels, like kissing and booping each other's noses (or something) and skinny-dipping and asking to move in together in spelled-out blueberries on a plate of pancakes. (Sure.)
And their car is hit (IMPACTED! IN A MOMENT OF IMPACT! ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION? THIS IS DEEP STUFF!) from behind while they are making out, and they both survive, but Rachel McAdams has lost her memory and doesn't remember Channing Tatum O'Neal at all—nor any of the quirky impactful moments on which their relationship was built.
It is at this time that we are informed this will be a 2012 Valentine's Day movie. Very good. Absolutely. ROMANCE! Between this and the GOP field, I'm really starting to hope John Cusack was right about that whole 2012 doomsday prophecy.
"She doesn't remember me!" bellows Channing Tatum O'Neal, over the briefest scene of him trying to touch her and her pulling away, which is the scene that's supposed to stop you from completing your screenplay that uses amnesia as a prop to do a hackneyed philosophical inquiry on the nature of love and personal evolution. The doctor assures Channing Tatum O'Neal that Rachel McAdams' memory "will improve with time." Neat. It's fun to pretend in movies how doctors have certainty about things about which there is no certainty. SCIENCE!
Channing Tatum O'Neal says, "Come home with me. We'll figure this out together." Rachel McAdams tells him, "I don't know you," accompanied by an expression that suggests she doesn't want to, either. Even though not-remembering Channing Tatum O'Neal is pretty obviously a good idea, Rachel McAdams is next seen kneeling on a dining room table surrounded by a jumble of pictures. "From triage to collage: Area amnesiac tries to rebuild her life with family photos."—AP.
"I need to make my wife fall in love with me again," voiceovers Channing Tatum O'Neal, which the romantic background song probably sung by Jewel assures me is romantic and definitely NOT creepy.
Montage. "I'll always love you," voiceovers C-Tates. "But the fact is, you're just meeting me, and I'm just a stranger." He gazes down at his shoes dolefully. I see we've come to the "Sad Sack" portion of That Dude I Pity-Fucked in College's World-Famous 10-Step Seduction Technique. More montagery with stupid voiceovery. Text onscreen asks: "Can a once in a lifetime love find a second chance?" I have a better question: "Who the fuck cares?"
Over scenes of scenes of kissing, dudely rival punching, rainstorms, and other crap, Channing Tatum O'Neal says some barfy shit about a vow to love despite challenges that I can't be arsed to transcribe.
THE END!
Daily Dose of Cute
Dudz, completely spent from chasing his BFF Sam, lies on the ground panting until he hears another dog coming into the dogpark. He rolls up into an alert position, but can't be arsed to actually get up. He watches the front gate with interest, panting. As the new dogs come in—another greyhound, Rocco, and his little brother Hugo, a border collie-great dane mix—Iain and I talk idly. trying to identify them from across the park. As they run in, Dudz stands up. "Go get 'em, Dudz," we both say. "Look, there's Sam, Dudz," I say, as Sam chases a ball in the background. "Go see Sam!" The wind blows. Dudley licks his lips, then suddenly takes off like a shot to the center of the park, where Sam, Rocco, and Hugo have convened. "There he goes," I say, as his tail windmills him to a stop in the distance.An interesting thing happened at the dog park this weekend: First, on Saturday, an English bulldog got inexplicably fixated on Iain and just started barking at him, not threateningly really, but aggressively annoying. Dudley was having none of that, and wandered over from where he'd been lolling about in the grass to sternly bark at the bulldog in return. Just enough to shut him up, and that was that.
Then, on Sunday, a guy came in with an 8-month-old border collie who likes to JUMP! and JUMP!s like he's made of springs, and also JUMP!s right at your face in order that he may LICK! it. The pup's frenetic jumping (which was not exactly discouraged by his owner, who shrugged it off with, "He likes to jump," to which Iain replied, "No kidding!") sent all the Two-Legs off-kilter, which of course made all the dogs unhappy with the collie. I just stood in my spot, projecting calm in the hope that it might infect the collie.
Well, he liked my calm, all right, and decided the safest place in the park was right at my feet. Big dogs crashed into me in pursuit of the collie, and I nearly fell over. The collie ran and JUMP!ed some more, and got chased some more, and came back to my feet again. More crashing. More almost falling. It was all a matter of seconds.
Dudley was displeased. He came over and stood beside me and blocked all dogs from further contact, nudging the collie away. Not aggressive; just firm. "That's enough of that," his expression seemed to say, and I swear if he could have raised a single dogbrow in smug displeasure, he would have.
He's not a jealous dog: Iain and I pet and play with other dogs at the dog park all the time. He is, however, apparently protective when he needs to be. He just never needed to be before.
Good to know.
72 Days Later
[Trigger warning for police brutality, violence, murder.]
Former police officer Johannes Mehserle, who executed Oscar Grant, an unarmed young man, two years ago, was convicted of manslaughter, and subsequently sentenced to 72 days plus time served, is now a free man.
In related news, Oscar Grant is still dead.
Injustice always makes me angry—but this case, this perfect microcosm of the whirling clusterfuck that is the US' fascistic empowerment of its police, its enthrallment by and privileging of authority, its fetishization of weaponry, its disdain of empathy, and its deeply ingrained racism, gets under my skin deep.
It isn't right! my every cell screams in rage and horror. It isn't right!
And I fear that this story isn't over. I fear for Johannes Mehserle, upon whom I wish no good will, but no violence, either. I hope he is allowed to live with a present mind a very long life, each day of which brings thoughts of the life he took, of the life that Oscar Grant was not allowed to live.
RIP Oscar.
Monday Blogaround
This blogaround brought to you by Shaxco, makers of Lissie's Mismatched Shoes, for the Fashion-Forward Dogwalker.
Recommended Reading:
Shark-fu: Tonight the GOP presidential hopefuls will get their debate on in New Hampshire.
thefourthvine: [TW for misogyny and sexual violence] The Women Men Won't See
Tami: Who is the Black Zooey Deschanel?
Andy: [TW for homophobia] GOP Rep. Allen West Cans Intern for Retweeting Pro-Gay Tweet
Mike: Are There Any Grownup Male Congressmen?
Pam: Rick Santorum Tells CNN's Don Lemon He Loves His Gay Peeps
Leave your links in comments...
The Measure of Freedom
Back in May, Texas Gov Rick Perry went on a religious talk show (Life Today) to discuss current events and he expressed the idea that the hard economic times are happening so that this country will return to "biblical principles" and we will escape our "enslavement" from government (Think Progress has more on Perry's biblical economics). One thing I've noticed among GOPers is the idea that we are somehow "slaves" of the government: we are not really free because taxes. Or something. If Perry ever wondered just how not-free Texas is, he is in luck because Mercatus Center--which is funded in large part by the Koch brothers and is "the world’s premier university source for market-oriented ideas—bridging the gap between academic ideas and real world problems"--has recently published its listing of "Freedom in the 50 States". Sadly for Perry, Texas isn't even in the Top Ten. It's 14.
So just what is "freedom" according to the Mercatus Center? Freedom from taxes, of course. Freedom also seems to mean no: public safety, any sort of regulation for anything, and not paying people minimum wage. Let's take Oregon, for example. We made it into the Top Ten of The Most Freeeeeeee! (emphasis mine)
Oregon is the freest Pacific state and the top state in terms of personal freedom. Moreover, Oregon enjoyed the greatest increase in freedom of any state since 2007 and the highest positive jump in the overall rankings (from #22 to #8). This was primarily due to big improvements in the quality of its court system, the enactment of same-sex civil unions, and a substantial decline in tax collections (from 9.7 percent to 8.8 percent of personal income). Despite the low taxes, government spending in Oregon remains much too high, resulting in relatively high state debt. Public safety, administration, and environment and housing look particularly ripe for cutting. Gun control laws are a bit better than average. Marijuana possession is decriminalized below a certain level, and there is medical marijuana (cultivation and sale are felonies, though). However, arrests for victimless crimes are surprisingly high (though Oregon’s drug law-enforcement rate declined markedly since 2007). Oregon is one of the few states to refuse to authorize sobriety checkpoints. It is also the only state besides Washington (and now Montana, which allowed it after the closing date on our data) to permit physician-assisted suicide. Private- and homeschool regulations are quite reasonable. Oregon also does quite well in terms of asset forfeiture. The state’s cigarette taxes are higher than most, and its smoking bans were recently tightened. Oregon’s spirits tax is the highest in the country and quite extreme (though interestingly, its neighbor, Washington, is the only other state three standard deviations above the national average). State land-use planning is very advanced. The minimum wage is the second highest in the country when adjusted for average wages. Labor laws are generally poor. Occupational licensing is excessive. However, health-insurance coverage mandates are a bit below the national average.
So how can we be even MORE free? Why, by:
1. At the state level, spending on the inspection and regulation bureaucracy, natural resources, and government employees’ retirement is well above national norms. We recommend cutting spending in these areas and reducing public debt.
I noticed, as a scrolled through a few states, that they talk a lot about marijuana, homeschool regulations, and being forced to pay for protecting natural resources but there's no mention of reproductive freedom & access--or the lack thereof. Shocking. Or not.
2. Eliminate occupational licensing for massage therapists, funeral attendants, pest-control workers, elevator installers and repairmen, boilermakers, fishers and related fishing workers, agricultural product graders and sorters, farm-labor contractors, and other occupations.
3. Maintain, if not reduce, the minimum wage, even in the face of future inflation.
Freedom free·dom noun \ˈfrē-dəm\ : 1. Cut spending on public safety; 2. Destroy the environment; 3. Screw over the poor; 4. Deregulate everything, including certifying service providers/techs; 5. Pay minimum wage workers less
How very...idealistic. If you're a cruel jackass. If that's the definition of "freedom", I'll take my "enslavement". I prefer civilised society with its protected environment, certified elevator installers, and well-funded public safety, thanks.
Weiner Round-Up
[Trigger warning for sexual harassment.]
There was some more news over the weekend regarding Rep. Anthony Weiner:
— Weiner confirmed he had been corresponding with a 17-year-old high school girl, though he, the girl, and her parents say that the private communications were "neither explicit nor indecent."
— More pictures of Weiner were made public, some of which use what is reportedly the Congressional gym as a backdrop. There are suggestions that this constitutes a misappropriation of Congressional resources, which is a stretch. Having phone sex on a Congressional line is a misuse of publicly-funded resources. Taking pictures of oneself in the Congressional gym, which one later sends to someone else, is not. Stupid, yes. Criminal, no.
— Weiner is refusing to resign, despite increasing calls for his resignation, most of which are not for the right reasons. Lumping everything he did into some generic term like "inappropriate" conflates consensual sexual activity with nonconsensual sexual activity, as if it's just as bad to cheat as to sexually harass, and tacitly finds him guilty of ethics violations before there has been an investigation. Worse yet, implying that he is mentally ill and thus unfit to serve in the US Congress is problematic for a whole lot of reasons. If Weiner personally feels he needs treatment, that's one thing. But the "you need help" pile-on from other Democrats is appalling.
— The White House weighs in, helpfully describing Weiner's behavior as "inappropriate."
— I also want to briefly address this idea, which I've seen in quite a few places, that Weiner didn't intend to harass Gennette Cordova; that he, instead, merely sent the image to the wrong person. This explanation is offered as though it somehow negates the fact that he sexually harassed her. Um, no. Even if she was not the intended recipient, she was the actual recipient.
Sex crimes are not defined by the perpetrator's intent. Someone who flashes a passerby doesn't get to say, "Whoops, I meant to flash someone else," if their crime is reported.
Further, I'm not sure whence this explanation even came, since Weiner has not, anywhere that I've seen, called sending Cordova the picture "an accident," but has called it "a joke." It is, I fear, a "joke" he has played many more times than we are even aware.
Nine
Yesterday was the ninth anniversary of Iain and I getting hitched by a judge at the Cook County Courthouse. On the day we did the deed, it's fair to say that Iain actively wanted to get married; I just wanted to be with Iain—and marriage was a condition of that privilege. (As I've said before, I don't believe in the sanctity of marriage, so I don't go in for discussions of its subversion, but, if I did, requiring people to get married just to see if they've got a workable relationship would be right at the top of my list.) So we said I do, and then we went out for burgers.
Yesterday morning, on the way to the dog park, I put on Ben Folds' "Rockin' the Suburbs," which we listened to on a loop that summer. The first piano chords of "Annie Waits" reach down deep inside me and find a place of nostalgic love—a blushing first love that felt vast at the time, and is, in retrospect, small and simple compared to the expansive love into which it has grown.
In the afternoon, we looked for a movie to watch. I suggested something romantic, since it was our anniversary and all. Romantic for us meant the new X-Men movie, because it's something we both wanted to see—and the intersection of who we are is romantic, at least to us, especially sitting in the dark holding hands. On the way to the theater, Iain put on Adele's "21," which we have been listening to on a loop this summer. He spoke about how much he loves her voice, and why, and how much he admires her; I thought about how much easier it is to feel genuinely and comprehensively loved by a man who respects women as his equal.
In the evening, we decided not to go out to dinner, but stayed in and made dinner together, which we ate on our deck surrounded and enclosed by our verdant and untamed garden. The meal was attended, with various degrees of begging, by our beloved dog and cats, who were as happy to be out in the cool evening air as we were. We forgot to buy wine—you can't buy alcohol in Indiana on a Sunday, because Jesus—so we toasted with Budweiser and Pepsi.
It was a lovely day of simple pleasures, and, at its end, I considered that if someone had told me, nine years ago, that was how we would spend our ninth anniversary, I would have said, "Perfect. Let's go." And I am very lucky that I would have said the same on virtually every day in between, too.
I love you, babe. Thanks for nine great years…and counting.
-----------------------------------
When Iain and I got married nine years ago, we promised never to take one another for granted, and never to take for granted that we were afforded the privilege of being together only because we are of different sexes. If you are in the US, please take a moment today to contact your representative and write to your senators and ask them to support the Uniting American Families Act.
[Previously: Eight, Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three.]
Gay Girl in Damascus Not Gay; Not a Girl; Not in Damascus
Last week, I received a bunch of emails about a Syrian lesbian blogger who had reportedly been kidnapped. I did not write about it, because I just had this inexplicable feeling that it was bullshit. And so it was: 35-year-old Syrian lesbian Amina Abdallah Araf al Omari, the purported author of the blog "Gay Girl in Damascus," is actually 40-year-old white American married straight dude Tom MacMaster, currently studying at Edinburgh University.
Despite MacMaster's assertion "I do not believe that I have harmed anyone", activists were furious. Sami Hamwi, the pseudonym for the Damascus editor of GayMiddleEast.com, wrote: "To Mr MacMaster, I say shame on you!!! There are bloggers in Syria who are trying as hard as they can to report news and stories from the country. We have to deal with too many difficulties than you can imagine. What you have done has harmed many, put us all in danger, and made us worry about our LGBT activism. Add to that, that it might have caused doubts about the authenticity of our blogs, stories, and us."Amina" had also agreed to meet several journalists at different points, reneging at the last minute, even as journalists had already traveled to meet at some risk to their own personal security. No doubt considerable resources were also spent by the US embassy in Syria trying to establish the alleged US citizenship of a missing woman who does not exist.
"Your apology is not accepted, since I have myself started to investigate Amina's arrest. I could have put myself in a grave danger inquiring about a fictitious figure. Really … Shame on you!!!"
"What a waste of time when we are trying so hard to get news out of Syria," another Damascus activist told the Guardian.
What a complete jackass.
Needless to say, MacMaster has not just betrayed and imperiled actual Syrian bloggers and actual LGBTQI activists, who need anonymity for reasons other than the fact that they're masquerading, attention-seeking dipfucks, but has once again given mainstream media organizations reason to distrust new media writers. Thanks a shitload, buddy.
The Washington Post has more on the story here.
Sunday Shuffle
And you?
More (non-shuffled) "Fuck yeah!", feel-good songs below. Just because.
Open Thread
Hosted by the Martian Manhunter.
This week's open threads have been brought to you by Martians.
The Virtual Pub Is Open
[Explanations: lol your fat. pathetic anger bread. hey your gay.]
TFIF, Shakers!
Belly up to the bar,
and name your poison!
Quote of the Day
"I'd like to praise the Governor for working to completely turn off the spigot of taxpayer funds to Planned Parenthood."—Tennessee Lt. Gov. Ron Ramsey (R-Ealpieceofwork), praising "the work of Gov. Bill Haslam and the Tennessee Department of Health for moving to administratively defund Planned Parenthood." No vote. Full-tilt fiat.
The hat tip goes to Aunt B., who emailed (which I am publishing with her permission):
Tennessee Republicans just maneuvered to completely defund Planned Parenthood in Tennessee through backroom machinations. It's not up for a vote. It's not being legislated.I do know, because I live in fucking Indiana, which has also defunded Planned Parenthood, although at least Mitch Daniels and his merry band of miscreants had the decency to pretend they still care about our democracy and its legislative process before ramming it through.
But it's done.
I can't see that they're breaking any federal laws, since they're claiming to offer the same services through county health departments.
I'm in complete despair.
It's hard to live in a place that hates you, you know?
I'm sorry, Tennessee.
To my sisters across this nation, where it is getting to be a very scary place to be a woman, I reach out my hand in solidarity. We've got a real goddamn fight here, and we're going to need each other.
