Cue "Taps"

Say what you will about exit polls, I'm pretty sure the one showing Bush winning eighty percent of the collars-up crowd was accurate.

I've tried to kick the twenty-four hour news cycle, but have relapsed, well, twenty-four times in the past day. Actually I wasn't doing so bad until about eleven this morning when my Uncle called. The only Republican in the family. And a paleocon at that, turns out.

It wasn't intended to be a political call; he was just trying coordinate plans for Christmas in Minneapolis. I didn't take the bait when he mentioned "No Child Left Behind," and gave the most vanilla of opinions when he brought up media bias. But y'all know what forced me to throw down. Begins with a "G" and ends in "-ay rights."

I never used to care. In fact, I used to groan at the thought of the Act Up! set, the papier-mache cadres, and people who use words like "transgressive" and "paradigm" too much, that is, at all. Gay rights? I used to think that was the promise of a lemon wedge in your Diet Coke, and the widespread availability of Black Inches magazine.

Well this administration and its recent campaign has changed all that. Attempting to bludgeon a small minority asking for equal protection under the law with the Constitution of all things, while putting similar measures on the ballots of states in order to boost turnout amongst the phobies, was all too much.

My Uncle was too much. Normally I handle relatives with kid gloves, but Uncle Steve is a smarty, and was virtually asking for a double-barreled argument. Plus I knew he had never been faced with a robust defense of gay marriage. He--predictably--tried to frame the issue in terms of providing an environment for procreation and the raising of kids, a la Maggie Gallagher. I said our canon of founding documents--the Declaration, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights--said nothing about going forth and multiplying, but rather gave us substantial freedom to define and pursue happiness for ourselves, and ensured that all individuals have equality before the law. Straight couples have the right to marry without having children--should they be made to sign affidavits swearing that they will? To argue that marriage should be straight only, pursuant to the national interest, was a surprisingly statist argument coming from an alleged conservative. Really more of a fascist or communist position. The state exists to provide and safegaurd individual liberities, individual civil rights do not exist to advance state power.

I just spent twenty minutes writing the rest of my argument, his arguments and my responses. Needless to say the call went on for over an hour, with nobody using their indoor voices. I never got outwardly emotional, or resorted to ad hominem attacks--no need, I was too comfortable with the topic. Towards the end he asked me why I was so intense on the matter. Was I making a big stink on civil libertarian principle? Not at all I said, rather it was a matter of profound, tangible, personal interest. A long silence. I understood that he finally understood. We quickly made our excuses and ended the conversation reasonably amicably.

Then my Grandma called. She said that Steve called to run Christmas plans past her, but was speaking very quickly and very loudly. Ha ha! I rattled him. The holidays will be fun, right?

Still, my heart was pounding and I needed to talk to someone, which is unusual. I called Melanie. She was in Boston, back from Florida where she finished her stint on the Kerry-Edwards campaign. Cue "Taps." She debriefed me on the open-casket that was the "victory party." Open-casket, but no open bar, alas.

When Priya called earlier, we promised each other we wouldn't talk about the election, yet that was what we kept cycling back to, like sequences in a fugue. Since I pace so much when I talk, I eventually head outside to avoid the caged-animal imitation. Usually I walk several miles over the course of one of our conversations. When I hang up I have to figure out where the hell I am, and begin to walk home. The scenery on the way back is often a surprise.

I've got to shut up, or at least ditch the cell, because my feet have been sore for days.

The fact of this election remains: its big, red, throbbing ontology. It's not going away. The poetic karma of it though is that these homophobes are about to get fucked by a lot of men in the next four: George Bush, Dick Cheney, Antonin Scalia, Grover Norquist (total leather daddy), et al. Ever see Deliverance ? Quelle red state.