Warms my heart. All of it.
Good As You covering the opposition: here, here (with some good grammatical feedback, as well), here, here, here, here, and here (really? fasting to save marriage? sorry, straight people, but y’all have a fifty percent failure rate right now, I hate to say, so the queers would have to try incredibly hard to screw up marriage more than you already have…).
And covering the celebration: Historic. Lots of links to the love on that one; bring tissues.
Another link from PHB: The ACLU Blog of Rights: Because Freedom Can’t Blog Itself. Lovely.
Enough of the happy and the buoyant. This piece by Jack at Feministe is spot on. Because we’re celebrating a fucking travesty of heteronormative behavior; we’re clambering for the right to take part in a patriarchal institution that has never truly served the majority of those who participated in it. End of fucking story. And I believe that. We are turning to our fellows and telling them to scale it down a bit. Scratch that: a lot. We are telling each other that who we are is not good enough, not marketable enough, and that if we want equality we must pretend to be someone else. A little counter-intuitive, anyone?
Jack writes, “And while I don’t begrudge Lyon and Martin or any of the other couples who have found relief and joy in finally being able to marry legally, I do begrudge a movement that has devoted so much time and attention and resources to a cause that does not serve the most crucial needs of the vast majority of queers and that further marginalizes the most marginalized and vulnerable members of the LGBT community, if you can call it a community.”
Amen. Allow me to add what I always add around this time of year: a link to Watching the Defectives over at Joe.My.God. I usually quote the “Way to go for not taking a rifle into a tower and taking out half the town!” bit in the middle, but this year the end is more apt:
“But sometimes I think we are the worst people in the entire world when it comes to standing up for each other. The gay people who’d like to soothe their personal image problems by selectively culling some of our children from Pride events? They disgust me. They appall me. They embarrass me. To them I say: the very road that YOU now have the priviledge of swaggering upon was paved by those very queens and leather freaks that you complain about, as you practice your “masculine” and give us butch face. If you want to live in the house that THEY BUILT, you better act like you fucking know it. United we stand, you snide bitches. America’s kulturkampf ain’t gonna be solved by making flamboyant people go away.
I’ll end this by making one final Jewish reference. Possibly you’ve heard the Jewish in-joke that sums up the meaning of all Jewish holidays? “They tried to kill us. We won. Let’s eat.” My Pride version?
They wish we were invisible.
I’m still celebrating, I’m still all aflutter at the hundreds and thousands of queers who on this day can do something that they couldn’t do yesterday. Hurray, queers! But let’s not forget that we don’t share a perfect vision just because we can all be identified by a handy word or phrase. The only place we’ll ever get to by stepping on each other isn’t one where we’d ever want to be. Fin.