Yes, Prop 8 is Discrimination

Some people are convinced that Proposition 8 (the California measure that limits marriage to one man and one woman) doesn't take away any rights from the LGBT community.

They claim that through things like a strong will, power of attorney, and more, an LGBT couple can have the same rights as a straight, married couple.

Let's take a look at how equal these scenarios are.



Situation One: A Man and Woman Want to Marry

Man: "Hi, woman. Let's marry."

Woman: "Okay. Let's go to the court house and get that done right now."

Man: "One simple document. How nice!"

Woman: "Easy peasy! We'll have time for coffee and a doughnut afterward!"



Situation Two: An LGBT Couple Wants to Marry

Partner 1: "Hi partner. Let's marry."

Partner 2: "Actually, that's illegal, but we can have all the same rights as a married couple."

Partner 1: "Oh, goodie. I'll call the accountant and find out how we can avoid the estate tax should one of us, heaven forbid, pass away before the other."

Partner 2: "Good thinking. I'd better call the attorney and find out how I can be allowed to visit you if you're ever in the hospital."

Partner 1: "Well, hey! That's not going to take much time at all! And after that, there are only one thousand one hundred thirty six more federal rights we need to get back in order for us to have the same rights as a married couple!"

Partner 2: "That's the spirit! At this pace, we'll be done setting this all up in about a decade--that is, if I don't have to take a second job to pay all the attorney costs and filing fees!"

Partner 1: "I suppose that will slow us down if you're working two jobs, but it's worth it, just to get the rights that we're not being denied!"



It's true. There are 1138 federal rights that LGBT couples do not have when they are denied marriage. Saying that LGBT couples can simply regain those rights by filling out paperwork, consulting expensive professionals, and paying processing fees for acquiring those rights is equivalent to giving all people the right to vote, but forcing some of those people to fill out special forms.

Thus, Prop 8 is discrimination.

And don't get me started on the psychological effects of facing people that don't recognize your marriage just because they have a specific interpretation of a book.

Roadnotes: Iowa

The following is based on events that took place a little while ago now; I can't even remember when.

We get off the plane.

The Sweetheart's all, "Look at the roads!"

I'm all, "Yeah. They know how to remove snow, here."

I beam with Iowa pride.

Xmas passes.

We box up stuff to ship because we didn't bring huge empty suitcases.

We go home, spoiled.

In a Cheesy Legal Thriller Novel, I am an NSA Goon

It's true. In the novel Case of Lies, by the author team up that calls themselves Perri O'Shaugnessy, I am an NSA goon. See for yourself:



Okay, the linebacker body type was a little off, but they got the silent act down. And I do like a good water.



Okay, sometimes it might look like I'm regarding people as Nabokov might have regarded a specimen butterfly before spoking it, but I'm not into decorative insect corpses, I swear. I try to respect the right of living things to die without being on display. Once again, though, they got the silent act down.



That does sound like something I'd say if I were NSA. But I'd probably follow this up with a discussion of semantics involving the word "nation".



I'll have to try the tie-yanking thing, though I'm not sure exactly what an angry tie yank means, or how it affects a conversation. Is that like saying, "Leave me alone already"? Or is it a "I'm getting angry. Hulk. Hulk. HULK!" kind of thing?



I used to chew on my fingernails when I was young, but I've given up the habit. In this novel, though, I'm not sure if this is a sign of me being frightened or bored. Or perhaps the Dietz character had to be mentioned because he wasn't in the previous five pages and people might wonder what he was doing for that entire five page conversation.

The suspense is killing me, but this is the last we hear of Aaron Dietz, the NSA agent, in this book. Maybe he just evaporates into thin air, as I hope to do when I'm ready to leave this world.

Cheesy Legal Thriller Question: If you were in a cheesy legal thriller novel, what would your character be like?

When Does a Problem Become a Crisis?

Having recently been on a bus with someone who claimed that Hurricane Katrina wasn't as messed up as the recent snow inundation of Seattle, I pondered the criteria required for a problem to become a crisis.

The problem: Several repeated snowfalls of 4 to 6 inches in a city with virtually no ability to remove snow.

The side effects: Reduced business viability in the form of reduced hours, reduced patronage, and the sheer impossibility of getting anything done when you can't go anywhere.

So, Seattle had some snow. Usually, the snow melts quickly. This time, it didn't, and more snow happened. Thus: a problem.

That being said and accepted, how much snow would it take for someone in Seattle to call in the National Guard? It would be unthinkable to call on the National Guard to get rid of a six inch snowfall.

But what if that same amount of snow fell ten times over ten days? It's like unpacking a suitcase: you take out one thing at a time and don't see any difference, until suddenly: there's the bottom of the thing, peeking out between the jeans and dirty underwear.

This only partially explains how Hurrican Katrina became a severely mismanaged crisis (especially since there was data that indicated a looming crisis). Nevertheless, in many cases, a crisis happens gradually, then suddenly*. You see the gradual changes, but it's hard to see each small problem as part of a collective crisis until it's suddenly too late.

Usually, there is no algorithm for detecting a crisis because a crisis is either easy to detect (example: a 200 foot wall of water about to hit your city) or the crisis is produced by cumulative effects (like moderate snowfalls that happen repeatedly for many days).

I'm not saying Seattle entered the crisis stage a couple weeks ago. I'm just pointing out that it could have, without anyone noticing, if there had been just a little more snow...and a little more...and a little more after that.



* Thanks to Hemingway, or whoever first used that phrase.