I can't help it. When it comes to homophobia, a sentence or two just isn't enough.

I try very very hard to respect the beliefs of others, and in most cases I succeed pretty well, I think.

I personally think there should be more limits on guns, but I can recognize the validity of others' fears regarding a world where the government has all the weapons. (And I'll avoid any more examples to not get off track.)

But I cannot respect the beliefs of hate groups, and to me it is clear that homophobia falls into that category.

I respect the Bible and that people hold it dear. That's great. But to pick one verse out of the swamp of outdated sentiments in there, many of which are downright criminal in modern times, and use it to justify discriminating against people for being gay? That makes no sense to me.

(Have you ever eaten pork or seafood, done any work on a Sunday, or gotten a haircut? Do you think they should all be illegal too?)

You can think homosexuality is icky. Sure. If someone ever tries to force you to watch gay porn, I'll be right there to help you escape. But taking your unease and using it to inhibit, disrespect, and damage the lives of people who have done nothing whatsoever wrong to you or anyone else? Just because it gives you the heebie-jeebies? That I cannot abide.

I wonder how many anti-gay-rights individuals have set aside the particulars of this issue, and really honestly tried to imagine what it would really feel like for others to tell you that you are wrong for being the way you are. That you are not free to be with the person you love, and that society will not recognize your commitment to each other. To imagine all the hatred and bigotry directed at you, when you haven't done any harm to anyone. Really tried to feel that compassion.

I didn't want to get off track, but look, here we are. This is perhaps the single issue that gets me the most riled up.

I meant this to be a silly little post (giggling at a label for crying out loud) about how I don't currently own any US Supreme Court justices, but K and I are trying to send out some subtle psychic signals to help them make the right choice, and having a heartfelt toast to equality, gay rights, and human progress.

And then I was going to tell you about how we somewhat set the house on fire while cooking a lasagna tonight, but I'm perilously close to 400 words, and I can feel your attention wandering.

Good night, good loving, and human rights to all.

First Day at Work, Part 1

One sharply cold night I was talking about finding work with my Romanian classmate, Traian, who looks kind of like a Lego version of Tom Cruise but with burning-crazy eyes.  He assured me:

Traian:  Yes, you can find work here in Belgie.

Me:  Yeah, I hope so, it’s just kind of hard to find sometimes.

Traian: Yes, something.

(thoughtful pause)

Traian:  You can kill pigs.

Me:  What?!

Traian:  Serious.  When I first come here this is my job, I work in….abattoir.  All day I cutting pigs (makes thumb across the throat gesture, staring at me with those caffeinated eyes).

Me: (nodding)

So suffice to say, for awhile there I was feeling somewhat discouraged about work, as one temp agency after another said “yeah…we’ll uh, call you if something comes up.”

I passed up a job in a call center that would have entailed over four hours of commute a day to sit in a cubicle and ask Brits if their printers were working, but I was starting to have second thoughts, despite the pocket change pay rate.

But yesterday’s round of temp agencies was more fruitful.  I have a job today!  Just today, but it’s something.  I am going to spend eight hours tonight as an industrial cleaner.  There is a factory in the next town over that makes paint, and since they are closed this week for vacation, the machines can be cleaned any time (versus the normal 10:00 PM – 6:00 AM shift).

I was issued with battered, steel-toed boots and signed a waiver that I am aware that I may receive chemical burns, and told to meet Pascal in the canteen at 14:00.

I’ll tell you how it goes later, assuming I don’t burn off my fingers with industrial strength lye and/or acid.