Angels in Orlando

The Westboro Baptist asshats were turned away by decent folks in Orlando, who decked themselves out as angels to block the anti-gay protesters from disturbing the peace of mind of the grieving. This was done before, at the funeral of Matthew Shepard.

I wonder, sometimes, what the cognitive dissonance must be like--being a WBC protestor screaming and carrying signs condemning people for who they love, but coming across decent, loving, empathetic communities who are feeling true, compassionate emotion--not seeking to create ugly drama.

Do they ever pause to consider that parasitically harassing people has built up over time a kind of "immune response" to their hate that only reinforces, ironically, the command "Love one another"? Are they trying to be the sand in the oyster that makes a pearl of wisdom?

Or are they just rabid horrorshows? Because in Orlando--we saw angels. And WBC protesters watched, and perceived them not at all. Their total and complete loss. But our reassurance that life and love and memory and the sanctity of our shared humanity go on. We have angels--they just have dumbass signs.

Rowan County Schadenfreude

It appears that the Westboro Baptist Church, last seen picketing the US Weather Service for thinking they know better than God what makes weather (hint: it's queers), have a brand new target:

Kim Davis, because she is "lukewarm".

On one hand, I think it is a damn shame for anyone to be judged for their personal decisions and told that those very things that made their life what it is are in fact, sinful and cut them off from the love of God, and make it so they can not reconcile their lives with a healthy spiritual relationship. On the other hand, if Kim Davis ever wanted to know what queer couples felt like being spurned by a self-righteous ass in their attempt to just live their lives, welp. Welcome to this very valuable experience. Please try to understand they are only exercising their deeply held religious beliefs.

And that the First Amendment guarantees them this very thing.

Nota bene: they are not picketing people who complied with issuing same sex marriage licenses at once, because there are too many of those folks. They are picketing the most publicized person to ultimately agree to allowing same-sex marriage licenses to come out of her office because she rejected them at first. The only thing that singled her out was the suggestion that she was almost going to take this fight all the way.  I'm not telling you the moral of the story, because I trust you are grown and will get it for yourself.

Anti-Gay Preacher Fred Phelps Has Died.

A few years back, I wondered if the passing of Westboro Baptist Church founder Fred Phelps would be the occasion of the world's longest Pride Parade, but it really seems tacky in retrospect to make a gloating big deal over the funeral of someone I don't respect, because I have seen how tacky it is by watching his tacky-ass family do it. Now that he's deceased, maybe he has some clearer idea about what his maker did or did not hate, or maybe he's none the wiser than he ever was.

His hate was like a yardstick of fuckery by which other haters could only come up short. I'm sure many nasty little garden-variety haters, if ever having a moment of conscience, might have consoled themselves that they were not, at least, "as bad as those Westboro Baptist people."

I find it depressing to consider that his grotesque little church survives him, as well as a few generations of deeply wounded people who find (comfort, satisfaction, cosmic Stockholm Syndrome?) something of value in a church that is fueled by a vision of a vengeful, abusive, miserable diety that would rather be feared than loved. It appears to me that Phelps created a God in his own image.  At the end, he had been excommunicated for asking his churchmembers to be kinder to one another--apparently the biggest sacrilege.  I could almost pity the old man. But, no.