I want you to ask yourself what price you’d ultimately pay to save the life of the person you love most
then ask yourself “is that more or less than what I’d pay to kill the worst person imaginable?”
then ask yourself “is that more or less than what I’d pay to kill the worst person imaginable?”
There’s been a lot of news going on around about Chik-Fil-A lately. Recently, President of Chik-Fil-A Dan Cathy was publicly quoted saying that he - and through an extension of his power, his company - firmly stands with and believes in the “biblical definition of the family unit”. This has created an air of homophobia along with protests surrounding the company, raising hell and causing controversy with liberal crowds and other supporters of the gay community.
I’ve been asked how I feel about this a few times, and now that I’ve sat down to seriously think about it (especially since I’ve never openly/publicly adressed my views on homosexuality)… This is what I have to say.
1. An individual is entitled to his or her beliefs. Gay, straight, christian, hindu. It’s in the constitution. This goes for the heads of major companys, too. That being said, if my favorite resteraunt decided to one day put up a sign that said “No niggers served”… I think I might turn and find some other place to eat. Open descrimination against any relatively large demographic is just bad business. That’s the practical side of it.
A company can represent itself in any way it sees fit, but associating with dated views and opinions is a tactical error at best.
That probably made a few of you uncomfortable and or upset, but this is where I stand: Fundamental Christianity is dated and absurd and anyone who wants to challange that and the things Leaders of The Human Race have done in the name OF it… well, I invite that person to study up on the Spanish Inquisition.
(sigh)… oh, the good ol’ days of being brutally tortured for your beliefs in the name of our Lord and Saviour…
This is where point 1 ends. The short of it, in case you didn’t catch it is this: Freedom of speech and belief is GREAT. It is a VERY GOOD THING. But if I ran a company like chik-fil-a… I’d be more concerned about my quarterly income reports than my own personal beliefs because… well… ‘merica.
Captialism. Chick-Fil-A… you’re doing it wrong.
2. Point two is my final point and it ties in directly with point one yet has nothing to do with capitalism and everything to do with freedom of speech and belief. How so? Well… Because where Mr. Cathy believes that a christian marriage is to be held solely between a man and a woman… I am inclined to agree.
FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS SANE JUST BREATHE.
…let me explain.
THE ORIGIN OF MARRIAGE (a brief overview): our best anthropoligical studies date the origins of marriage back some 4.5 thousand years ago (but the bible says - ) (shut up). Back then it had nothing to do with religion and everything to do with hunter/gatherers being able to identify their biological heirs with certainty. Through marriage, a woman became a mans property. HOLD OFF ON THE BRA-BURNINGS, FEMENISTS!
Sooner or later, religious institutions took over and bound man and woman under “God” for the next few thousand years. Women were still basically a man’s property, though, sooo…
That didn’t really change up until the 1960’s, though, and only here in the US along with other “westernized” societies. Then feminism had it’s hay-day and equality is just now on the rise as a popular idea.
NOW FOR THE ACTUAL POINT: churches of all shapes and sizes, relating to any given major religion, have been around for hundreds if not THOUSANDS of years. We, in this country, are given the CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHT to decide if we as individuals want to associate ourselves with any one of this institutions.
Now tell me: Who are you or any other protester to go and uproot and change a system that set its own rules that have been in place for centuries?
DON’T LIKE IT? LEAVE IT. It’s really that easy. Because if the people you want to be married under don’t accept you… why fight it? Are you the person in the abusive relationship who insists on sticking around despite the beatings being given to you? If you stick around long enough maybe the church will change, right?
NO. Go and find people who accept you, and fuck the bigots and let them stay in the dark ages if that’s what they want. That is their right, as it is yours to evolve and move on with society.
DON’T GET ME WRONG. I LOVE THE GAYS. Not with my body, mind you, but certainly with my heart and mind. AND GAYS ARE ALLOWED TO LOVE ONE ANOTHER.
Let me remind you all of that. Homosexuality is NOT illegal.
SO: do I believe that gays should be allowed to be married? By the standard definition? No.
I do, however, firmly believe that gay couples are as worthy of being LEGALLY bound to one another as hetero couples. I believe the federal government should allow gay couples to be bound and united civilly, and that they should be awarded the same tax and healthcare benefits as any hetero couple might be. I believe that they should be allowed to adopt without running into issues based on any prejudice and/or homophobia. I believe gay couples are more than capable of raising healthy, intelligent, talanted, inspiring young humans, gay and hetero alike.
Being a hetero couple has failed to stop many from birthing gay babies, so screw off with that archaic logic.
In summation: Chik-Fil-A and Mr. Cathy are invited by me personally to enjoy their freedom of expression as well as their drop in revenue. I like KFC just as well.
Nobody has the right to force beliefs on another, nor are free Americans required to listen to him when he tries.
Nobody has the right to tell an established, albeit ancient, archaic, homophobic, racist, misogynistic, fear-mongering institution to change its laws to suit special interest groups, especially if said groups have a choice in associating with said institution.
And NOBODY should have the right to discriminate against another human and deny him or her benefits simply because he or she loves differently, if not better, than the majority.
BECAUSE ‘MERICA. THAT’S FUCKING WHY.
In the late afternoon, when the streets were less filled with drivers yelling “stupid cunt” out of their windows at each other, two friends layed naked on a couch together covered in sweat with the slowly setting sun soaking into their skin. He was running his fingers through her hair when she looked up and smiled at him with those big brown eyes of hers. He looked down at her lazily and kissed her on the forehead.
“I think this is exactly what I needed. But I still feel like shit for some reason.”
She tried to stare into his eyes but he was looking out the window at a group of pigeons that sat on the railing of the fire escape to watch the post-coital pair.
“We have admirers.”
“I could get us a glass of scotch and pack a bowl,” she offered. “As your therapist, I can’t condone substance abuse as a coping mechanism. But as your friend…”
He chuckled and his chest shook beneath her head. “You’re not my therapist.”
She clapped a hand gently on his chest, then reached down and grabbed his exposed member. “Hmm.” She smiled deviously before quickly pecking him on the cheek, then climbed over him and walked to the kitchen. He couldn’t help but watch as she did so. Seeing her leave was always painful, but watching her go was another matter.
The way she walked was hypnotizing. The way her flowing brown hair draped down to the middle of her back just a few inches above her perfectly shaped, well-run bottom, which had the fantastic habit of swaying ever so -
“I’m sorry?” she called back to him.
“You dripped. You’re still wet.” He smirked.
“And you’re still hard.”
His smirk slowly grew into a smile but his body wouldn’t move. He was content. “I wonder what all your textbooks from back in the day would have to say about that.”
She grabbed a bottle of blue label from off the counter and two crystal tumblers from an adjacent cabinet. She then flipped her hair over one shoulder to cover one of her small but perfect breasts before pouring his drink.
“They would say…” she began to pour. The amber liquid twinkled in the evenings golden light. “That we have a very healthy relationship…” she continued to pour her own glass, capped the bottle, then walked back over to him. “And that I am very bad at my job.” She handed him his scotch.
He sat up and took his drink from her, set it on the coffee table beside him, then took her drink as well and did the same. He then grabbed her by her bare hips and looked up at her. “You’re not my therapist,” he repeated with a gentle grin.
“Well, you sure as shit don’t pay me for any of my services.”
“Oh?” he ventured, guiding her onto his lap with a raised eyebrow. They fit together like lock and key and she moaned only slightly before biting her lip and chuckling.
He ran his eyes over every inch of her and traced what he saw with his finger tips, from her thighs to her throat which he gently grabbed. She inhaled ecstasy from this and he released her and kissed her shoulder. “Why can’t we just be together?”
“What do you call this?”
“No,” he said. “Why can’t we be together?”
She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned back to look at him sternly. “You know perfectly damn well why.”
“We keep coming back to this. We’re good when we work.”
“And miserable when we don’t.”
“Right. So let’s just… work. You make me happy. I make you happy. We talk about everything and we fuck. What’s the difference between that and a relationship.”
“There’s a difference.”
There was a long pause as he searched around in her eyes for something he clearly hadn’t found yet. “You love me.”
“I love a lot of people.”
“No. Bullshit. I’m different.”
“At the end of the day it doesn’t really matter, now does it?”
He let out a sigh and grabbed her by the hips, moving around inside of her slightly. She looked at him and smiled before covering his mouth with her hands and bobbing up and down on him.
“Just shut up and stop thinking. It’s a turn-off.”
His eyes went wide and he grabbed her by the wrists and held them behind her back with one hand. “As if.”
When round two was done and over, three thousand calories had been burned between them and the sun had gone down. They were drenched in sweat and lying on the couch and the pigeons had not moved. The perverts.
“You know,” he began to think out loud. “If we could bottle this. The essence of this? We’d be filthy rich. You’d could quit your job forever.”
“And you could stop pretending to look for one.” She remembered the scotch on the coffee table beside them and they drank it.
Outside in the dark, wheels screeched on pavement and metal collided with metal. The pigeons shit themselves and flew away off the fire escape as horns fought for dominance over the night sky. A man yelled “stupid cunt” from somewhere down on the street, but back inside of the apartment a naked man on a couch shook his head slowly and smiled.
“Fuck your bad vibes, dude.”
but i like it. it’s a good sore. it’s a sore that reminds me that i worked my ass off today. that i worked my ass of yesterday. that i’m getting better and stronger. it’s a sore that ensures i’m feeling something. every tiny movement is significant. like i’m honestly alive. it’s proof that we are supposed to test our limits and expand our potential. that living is challenging and challenging is living.
A dear friend of mine asked me to address that question today…
The truth is, I didn’t “get rid” of him. Depressed Michael - and all depressed alter-egos like him - is a part of who I am (and a part of whoever else may struggle with depression or has struggled in the past).
Him being “gone” is an illusion. He never left and I never got rid of him because you can never remove parts of your personality. You are who you are (yes, you can change, but i’m not making that argument right now), and Depressed Michael used to be a very LOUD part of my personality.
The trick to “getting rid of” your loud, depressed alter-ego is simply teaching him/her to shut the fuck up.
Figure out what’s making you depressed. What do you think about most often? Does this make you feel sad? Do you feel sad and depressed after thinking about it. What do you complain about most? All of this is what fuels your depression and when depression takes control of you… it’s as if you need these depressants. It’s an addiction in a very real way because somewhere deep inside you’re afraid that if you don’t feel that profound depression which you put yourself through (and depression, being in your head, is most definitely something you put yourself through by not thinking clearly. by no means does that mean that it is your fault that you are depressed) - if you don’t feel that depression and dwell on what makes you sad on a daily basis - then you won’t feel anything profound ever again.
It’s easy to ignore and forget the fact that you probably laughed at something today; that something made you smile or that something made you feel generally good. You don’t focus on that because it’s not as powerful.
But you WILL feel a positive powerful emotion at some point and the reason it will feel so powerfully positive is because of how rare…how mercilessly rare that kind of feeling is.
So what’s the trick?
Let yourself be happy.
Infinitely easier said than done. Believe me: I know.
But you need to find what thoughts bring out your own Depressed side and separate yourself from them.
For me it was school, females, and the reinforced belief that “i’m not good enough.”
School: i took a break. i was failing my classes because they bored me and i couldn’t focus. why burn money? why stress out? why continue fueling a fire that will last a lifetime if you don’t take a few months to try to finally extinguish it?
Females/Relationships: when i say “i love you” i really do mean it. but as painful as it is, rejection is a strong hint for you to give up on an uphill battle. No, I’ve never stopped caring for the girls who rejected me, but I HAVE learned to move on. There will almost ALWAYS be someone new, someone just as good if not better, someone interesting, someone attractive… something just has to click within you to help yourself realize that. If you must: distance yourself. Stop facebooking them, stop texting them, stop talking about them - you CAN do it. You won’t WANT to, because that means they really ARE out of your life, and god knows you never wanted that. But you also don’t deserve what you’re doing to yourself when you keep torturing yourself with thoughts of those people or that one special person. trust me: if you weren’t worth their time, that isn’t a sign that you should try harder to “win them over”. it’s a sign for you to get out, exercise, read, learn to laugh again, be happy, and learn to love yourself. as tacky and cheesy and cliche as it sounds, that’s what will attract the person who MAKES YOU worth THEIR time. that’s how you end up in a reciprocal relationship. i’m not saying it will be a fast and/or easy process. it PROBABLY won’t be. but you’ll survive. you’ll make yourself learn to.
I’m not good enough: yes you fucking are. stop wallowing. laugh at the people who bother you. Rather, laugh WITH them. If you can’t laugh at yourself, you have no business laughing at others. Plus: laughing WITH them will completely disarm them. If you aren’t hurt or bothered, then they have failed and won’t know what to do. If you feel like you can’t do anything right: stop trying at what you can’t do right no matter how hard you try, find what you’re good at, and do that instead.
and above all else: NEVER DO ANYTHING SOLELY TO PLEASE SOMEBODY ELSE. ALWAYS STRIVE FOR YOUR HAPPINESS. IF SOMEONE WON’T TREAT YOU HOW YOU WANT TO BE TREATED? FUCK ‘EM.
IT’S YOUR JOB TO MAKE YOU HAPPY, SO GET TO WORK. IT WON’T JUST COME TO YOU, AND YOU’LL STILL GET SAD SOMETIMES. BUT THAT’S LIFE. STOP HOPING FOR MIRACLES AND MAKE YOUR OWN.
Get your acts together.
- Michael Sapieja
“They say that when good Americans die they go to Paris,” chuckled Sir Thomas.
“Really! And where do bad Americans go when they die?” inquired the Duchess.
“They go to America,” murmured Lord Henry.
…did Oscar Wilde write the worlds first hipster joke???