Someone in an LJ community asked how homosexual Jews resolve their homosexuality and teh clear halakhic prohibition against it. This was my response.
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I was thinking this morning about the phrase “Life’s not fair.” I was remembering how angry it used to make me as a child. Not because of the reality of the statement, not at the unfairness of life which I took as a fact that had to be accepted, but by the way in which the phrase was used as a cop-out.
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Missed two days. Please don’t fail me. I’ll do extra credit.

I just made the most wonderful egg salad. The only problem is that it came out a little runny. I’ll figure that out somehow… maybe I should let the yogurt drain through cheesecloth or something… anyway, here’s what I used:
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Cyclones kick Stankee booty tonight. 10-7. Dad and I left an inning early though… it was more a comedy of errors than a ball game. Starting with Marty Markowitz’s missing the ceremonial first pitch and deflecting it into Ed Shakespeare’s neck. Fortunately, his camera survived.

There is a concept in Judaism of what is called in Hebrew Lashon HaRah (loshen hora in yiddish), which literally means evil/bad tongue/language. It means speaking ill of another person (by some interpretations, specifically of a fellow Jew). Commonly translated as gossip, the umbrella term loshen hora includes any derogatory speech whether or not the words related are God’s honest truth.
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Incidentally, this is the beginning of Pride Week. So be proud of who you are. Unless you are one of those unsavory characters who deserves to crawl about in the mud.

Kidding.

I have very mixed feelings about pride in general. It’s probably a result of my growing up in “liberal” New York, but I often feel that the whole visibility thing is simply redundant, the community aspect just another form of separatism and the whole idea just largely counter-productive.

But… but… I like rainbows!

Of course, being of non-identified orientation (generally understood as bisexual) there’s always that question of whether or not I even have cause or even right to brandish the rainbows. The symbol which used to mean diversity, and I guess still does in some circles, has been co-opted in large part by the strictly HOMO-*sex*ual crowd, the not quite so tolerant who suck their teeth at me and my ilk and say they need more *real* lesbians in their lives.

But what the hell. I like rainbows.

That and I’m blessed to be surrounded at this point in my life by positive queer role models of many stripes who have never made me feel like less of a person for who I am, who have never derided me, who tease me, yes, but no moreso than I do them, and all in fun and love… who take me and embrace me and love who I am. That’s what Pride is supposed to be about.

That and pretty rainbows. And hot androgynous chicks and cute effeminate men. *nod*

I said that I would blog every day even if the blogature was of no consequence. I will keep that promise.

I picked up my guitar tonight for the first time in a year and a half. Ouch. Fingers hurty. Half-learned chords now quite forgotten. How many projects can I take on right now? I wonder.

So I guess we’re going to find out. Project # n… teach self guitar.

That comes after learning to daven Musaf, but before learning calculus. Not chronologically, but in some strange hierarchical ranking system that just barely makes sense in my own mind. So I guess I’ll keep my extensive readership (hah!) updated regularly on the progress of my multitudinous projects.

Um… I’ll get back to you.

This is going to be my first political entry.

A couple of weeks ago I was present for the introduction of a bill to the City Council of New York to lower the voting age in municipal elections from 18 to 16. I’m connected directly to this through my work with NYRA, and peripherally though Oblivion, YouthAmp and Asava. Yasha has also set up Lower The Vote in response to this action. I know that the initial kneejerk reaction of most people to this idea is “hell no” for the simple reason that on a visceral level they don’t want 16-year-olds deciding on big issues for them. But before I put forth a long argument in favor of a lower voting age (which I will, but not today) I ask you to simply consider this one fact: a lower voting age does not grant 16-year-olds the power to decide anything… only to have a voice.

Meditate on that and I’ll get back to you.

Okay. I need to learn that not everything I do has to be perfect. So I’m going to make an effort to post something here everyday, even if its not of earth-shattering importance, even if it’s not mind-bogglingly well-written, even if it’s just a sentence with a link. That’s my assignment for myself.

So there.