The Narrow . . .

 - minded idealogue-as-victim ruse . . .

. . . developed by short-sighted narrow-minded conservatives and adapted by, among others, Marco Rubio . . . 


(from http://www.politico.com/story/2014/07/marco-rubio-gay-marriage-debate-109300.html)
" . . . Marco Rubio jumped head first into the culture wars on Wednesday to blast what he sees as “growing intolerance” against those who oppose same-sex marriage.  In a speech on family values at the Catholic University of America in Washington, Rubio lamented the backlash that companies like Chick fil A and Mozilla often face when their executives express public support for keeping marriage between a man and woman. He said that supporting that definition doesn’t make someone “anti-gay” but rather “pro-traditional marriage.”

“There is a growing intolerance on this issue, intolerance of those who continue to support traditional marriage,” the Florida Republican senator and potential 2016 presidential contender told a standing-room only crowd. “Even before this speech is over, I’ll be attacked as a hater or bigot. Or someone who’s anti-gay. This intolerance in the name of tolerance is hypocrisy. Supporting the definition of marriage as one man and one woman, is not anti-gay. It is pro-traditional marriage.” . . ."


Monkey See
©1995 Raymond M. Jozwiak




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Gee, Thanks!. . .

. . . Most holidays really bother me. It's just me. Many times I feel like we set aside a special day, we give it a name, we develop a tradition involving some specific ceremonial details like fireworks, trees, gifts and always food (one the better parts of the process). But the purpose of the observance is usually to honor, remember, be thankful for someone or something for which honor, remembrance or thanks should be a regular part of our lives. I don't know, it just seems like we pull it out of a drawer or closet every year, dust it off and play with it for a day, then put it away to be forgotten until next time- usually a year later. Is 'contrived' the word I'm looking for.

This is why I have a particular dislike of what I usually call the "Hallmark" holidays. You know them, Mothers Day, Fathers Day, Babies Day, Doggie Day and Dog Day Afternoon. . . the list goes on. And my dislike developed in my early adult years. I have (had) no problem acknowledging and thanking my Mother, for example, for all her love, care and sacrifice devoted to me and the whole family. But after childhood and all fun of picking out that greeting card, I began to think that it was a bit shallow, or should I say narrow, to whip out this gratitude only one day a year. I think it diminished the magnitude of the very thing it attempted to honor by confining it neatly to one day and conveniently making the greeting card (and in some cases, a complete industry so money could be made-which is another story completely) to commemorate the occasion.

I'm not saying I ignore these 'holidays' or special days. I would be a complete outcast if I tried. (And my wife would probably divorce me.) They are, as it is said, what they are. I do try to make the best of them but still voice my thanks, gratitude, love, honor etc. to or about the things about which I feel very strongly throughout the entire year and not singly on the 'one' day designated.

And on this Thanksgiving day, since I agree with John Shelby Spong that there is no person-like God who is intimately invested in the minutiae of human life and to whom I am obliged to offer these thanks for fear of punishment or desire of a heavenly afterlife, I offer my thanks directly to the sources to whom I am grateful. First and foremost, my best friend, love of my life, housemate, soulmate, co-parent of our wonderful sons- my wife Pam. Thanks Hon! (Yes, I'm from Baltimore) And this year I am thinking about some old friends who probably not fully aware of the influence they exerted upon me during certain periods of my development, have now re-entered my life and have brought back not only wonderful memories, have brought a new dimension to my present life, Clint and Jay.

Gee, Thanks.





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Just watched. . .

. . . WAIT UNTIL DARK. You know, the suspense/thriller with Audrey Hepburn, Efrem Zimbalist, Jr., Jack Weston, Richard Crenna (remember Dr. Kildaire? What do you get when you combine Kildaire and Ben Casey? A Pair-a-docs! [Alan Sherman]) and the great Alan Arkin.

Wonderful film. Very suspenseful. Efrem Zimbalist's and Audrey Hepburn's characters are a couple, she who has recently become blind and he, a photographer who is going to great pains to help her adjust to her new, much darker (visually) world. In his efforts (which resemble those of parents attempting to lure their youngsters from moaning, pointing and shaking heads to speaking as a form of communication) to teach her to be independent by not jumping to assist, fetch or otherwise cater to her newly acquired handicap, he sounds as if he is training a dog. "You can do it. Over there. To your left. You can find it."

It's all well and good during the expositional sequences of the film. But after poor Audrey's character suffers the deceitful antics of the 'bad guys' pouring on the the insinuations of infidelity and dishonesty on the part of her dear (dog-trainer) Zimbalist, Arkin has a final, intense scene where he is out-done by the heroine. She ends up, upon the arrival of her heretofore, otherwise engaged-in-business husband, crouched, sniveling behind the open refrigerator door while her antagonist lay bleeding on the floor after her stabbing him after his final, desperate attempt to kill her. And when her 'dearest' arrives and at first thinks she has either fled the scene or is lying dead somewhere, unseen within the apartment, she emerges, ex-refrigerator, and he in his blessed relief and undying gratitude for her unexpected and miraculous safety, says something to the effect of, ". . . over here. You can do it. I'm over here. C'mon over here. I know you can." [paraphrasing, of course]

Somehow, the conclusion of this edge-of-your-seat suspense thriller was rendered comic to me as a result of Efrem Zimbalist's character being so narrowly dogged-cum-insensitive to what must have transpired during his absence, in his single-minded insistence to 'train' Audrey to cope with the world in her still-uncomfortable blindness instead of simply running to her IMMEDIATELY to comfort her and express his happiness for her deliverance from this horrible situation.

I laughed for half an hour! [My wife said, "I'm going to bed."]




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