Being conservative while being liberal – and vice versa

A friend of mine wrote in his column today about his fear of a lobbying group for people who prefer the homosexual lifestyle. He called himself a homophobe. I don’t think he is and I postulated it was more likely he was afraid of change, rather than afraid of gays. He is not afraid of people who are gay, just their lobbying group.

This is just another reason I am hesitant about calling myself a conservative-liberal, or maybe a liberal-conservative, I’m not sure which one is more accurate. Either way, I’m focusing on just one aspect in this column.

We can argue the bible until we’re both blue in the face and flopping on the ground like a fish, and neither of us will convince the other what God wants. One will say “but the bible says” and the other will say “but it also says this” and we’ll go back and forth until the score is tied at 10-10 and we’ll both be back where we started.

So instead, let’s look at us more as Americans rather than biblical scholars.

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” -- The Declaration of Independence.

We were tired of England levying taxes on us, making us buy goods made in England, and other mean things they were doing so we said in one voice “No!” and we became Americans.

We became independent from England and now all men who owned land and were in good standing with the church could vote. The women couldn’t, non-land owners couldn’t, blacks couldn’t, but that’s okay, white men could and dangit, that’s the way we liked it and that’s the way it was going to stay.

Years passed and all was good with the world. We had our slaves which we could do pretty much anything we wanted with and we had our women under control. They were making us fresh bread, ironing our clothes and raising our children so we could work the land, break horses and go on long cattle drives with other hardy men like ourselves.

That is until those uppity white guys who didn’t own land got all shifty and in 1856, the last state in the union at the time, North Carolina, allowed white men who didn’t own land, to vote.

And with that, life was good. No more changes had to be made to civilization because civilization was good and that’s the way we liked it.

Well, almost.

In the Roaring 20s women were tired of not having a say in government and how our country was being run. I’ll tell you what, piss off enough women and I don’t care how manly of a man you are, other women are going to band together and make life miserable for everyone in the country. Women banded together and lobbied for the right to vote and in the 20s, the United States passed the 19^th Amendment and women were allowed to cast their ballot for office.

Once that amendment passed everything was good. The United States was perfect the way it was. So what if the black man’s vote was only worth 1/3^rd or 1/5th of a white man’s vote? Don’t worry about it. We’ll work it out and finally in the 1960s all those grandfather clauses and partial votes were eliminated and blacks had their vote count too.

And now, here it is closing in on 2013 and we’re arguing over whether gays and lesbians have the same rights as us straight people. They want to marry and have children and get divorced and fight with their ex like everyone else.

So we come back to what really irks us -- which is some people who are different than others want to do something some of us find abhorrent. We’re upset that people who are citizens of the United States want the right to enter into a contract with someone else of the same sex.

They want their rights. I say let ‘em have ‘em.

But, but, but, the bible says…. I knew you were going to say that.

I can't argue your beliefs, but let’s dissect them a little bit. First, I am a child of God and I worship Him. I believe He created All and that He sent His son to live among us and teach us. I believe His son died for our sins and was resurrected. So before you get on my case for being sacrilegious, remember that.

You want to spout “Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination. -- Leviticus 18:22” and another dozen other passages bible thumpers like to throw around. If you’re gay, you deserve death. You do not deserve the right to live, not deserve the right to be happy, not deserve the right to grow old, do not deserve anything but a needle in the arm filled with barbiturate, paralytic, and potassium solution.

Leviticus was written by a man, some believe it might have been Moses (the same guy who got commandments from God written in stone) while others are not so sure. Leviticus is in both the Christian bible and the Jewish Torah.

Man is not God and should not, in my belief, try to be the conduit from God. We have enough history filled with man saying they knew the will of God. We should listen to Him from our knees not from other men who say they know what God wants.

Moses was Jewish prophet, Buddha was the founder of Buddhism, Confucius the founder of Confucianism, Martin Luther the primary founder of Protestantism, Loyola a theologian and founder of Jesuits, Calvin founder of Calvinist branch of Protestantism, George Fox founder of Quakers, John Wesley the founder of Methodist movement, Brigham Young said he was the 2nd prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Mary Baker Eddy the founder of Christian Science and Gandhi was a Hindu reformer. They were all people, human of flesh and breathed air  and all were very religious and had beliefs of what was right and wrong and died like we all will.

I do not know the will of God on this issue. I have read the bible and heard the interpretations of it. Honestly, when I am on my knees, I’m thanking Him for what He hath provided. I am not asking him if it is okay for Jim to enter into a contract with Keith. (Marriage in the United States is a government contract and that’s why you have to get a license to do it. If you really want to mess with someone’s head, get married by a minister without getting a license and you’ll be married in the eyes of that church, but not the state…it’s a real hoot and not illegal.)

My faith is between God and myself and comes before my being an American, but being an American is high on the list as well. I served in our armed services because I love this country and I believe in this country and I believe in the Constitution and our Bill of Rights.

I’ll defend a gay man’s rights, I’ll defend a lesbian’s rights, just the same as I’ll defend the rights of every straight man and woman. While I do not agree with their lifestyle, they have the right as Americans to live that way. It says so in the Declaration of Independence.

Why? Because I am an American!

See what I mean? I’m conservative in my beliefs, but liberal in my thinking. A conservative liberal.

A Special Look at a Special Boy

The words are written by Alex’s teacher. Alex wrote the original manuscript over the course of several weeks. The teacher wrote them in a format that could be understood by the reader.

I am special. I know because mom says I am special. I am special to her and she loves me. I love my mom. I love my brother. I love my dad. I love my cat. I love my games. I love the Challenger car I saw. Mom took me to see it at Christmas. She took a picture of me with it and her friend made it look really cool.

I was asked by my teacher to write this because she wanted to know what I am thinking. I don’t like to write. I don’t think so well. I know I am not as smart as my brother. I know I am not as smart as mom. I know I am not as smart as dad. I know I am not smart because I go to a special school.

***

I played a game today on the computer. It was a truck game. I got to race. I like games. Hard games are not fun. I like to watch my brother play games. He is good. I love my brother. He makes me mad sometimes. I don’t know why he gets mad at me sometimes. Sometimes I do things that make him mad, but I don’t mean to. I don’t like it when my brother is mad at me. I don’t like to be mad at my brother.

***

I am happy today. Today mom made popcorn and ice cream for us. I like when we are together and happy. Dad wasn’t here. He and mom don’t live here together. I don’t know why dad doesn’t live here. I think I was told, but I don’t remember. I don’t remember a lot of things. I know he used to live here. I am glad he doesn’t because mom and dad used to fight a lot. I don’t remember what they used to fight about but I know they said my name a lot. I was bad a lot and this made them mad. I don’t like being bad.

***

I like my teacher today. Mrs. Davenport said I am doing very well writing. I don’t like to write. It is hard for me to put words to what I am thinking. I have to work very hard and I get mad when I can’t write what I am thinking. Words are hard and I can’t spell very well. Mrs. Davenport said she would write it for me so other people can read it. I don’t know if I want other people to read it. I don’t want people to think I am dumb. She said other people won’t think I am dumb, just different. I wish I wasn’t different, but she said me being different is what makes me special. She told me God created me to be Alex. I don’t know what that means. I have been told about God but I don’t understand.

***

I have some nice toys I play with. Mom let’s me play on her computer too. My toys I can play with in my room where it is quiet. I like quiet because I don’t understand what other people say all the time. I try to understand, but the words they use I don’t understand. In my room I am by myself and I don’t have to think about others and I can play with my toys. I also like computer games. I can play for a long time and it is fun. I don’t get told to put the toys away after playing on the computer.

***

My friend Steve was mean to me today. He hit me in the head and called me dumb. I told Mrs. Davenport and she told Steve to stop. He did for a little while but I was still mad because he made fun of me when I couldn’t remember how to put the puzzle we were working on back together. I tried to remember, but I forget things a lot. Steve was mad because I wouldn’t let him do it for me. I wanted to do it. I wanted to get the puzzle back together, but I could not figure it out. Steve was mad at me because I wouldn’t let him do it. I know I can do it. I have done it before. He hit me in the head again and called me dumb. It hurt my feelings and I shoved him away. I just wanted to remember how to put the puzzle together. I pushed him and he fell and told Mrs. Davenport. She was mad at me for pushing Steve and that made me mad. She didn’t understand and she made me put the puzzle away. I was very mad. I cried.

***

I took a trip today. I rode on a school bus to a place today. I don’t remember where it was but it looked real nice. There were things there that I liked looking at, but they were not cars. There were other kids on the bus, but Steve wasn’t there. Steve could not come to school today. Mrs. Davenport said he had to go to the hospital today and couldn’t come on the trip. Steve is my best friend and I miss him when he is not here. Steve likes cars and we look at them almost every day. He usually sits with me when we go on trips because we’re best friends. When he comes on trips I have more fun, but when he doesn’t, I don’t have anyone to sit with. Sometimes Mrs. Davenport will sit with me and that makes me feel better, but I miss Steve. Steve misses a lot of school because of his dialysis and the tumor in his brain. He is sick a lot.

***

I was bad today. I was mad because Steve won’t be coming back to school for a long time. Mrs. Davenport said Steve is having an operation next week and has to stay home for a long time. That made me mad. I don’t have a lot of friends because a lot of people don’t like me. I don’t know why they don’t like me and it makes me mad. I was mad because Steve wouldn’t be here for a long time. I was very mad and I threw my toys away. I didn’t want to play today. I wanted to cry.  I wanted to go home. I wanted to be with mom and my brother instead of here. Toys here are no fun without Steve. Mrs. Davenport was very cross with me for throwing my toys. She told mom when she came to pick me up. Mom was mad too, but she hugged me and took me home.

***

I am still mad. I don’t want to write today. Mrs. Davenport said I should but I won’t

***

My mom sent me to my dad’s today. She was very mad at me because I don’t want to do anything. Mrs. Davenport said Steve’s operation didn’t go well and he died. I don’t want Steve to die. Steve is my best friend and I want him to come back to school. Mrs. Davenport said he wouldn’t come back. I said he has to come back. If he is not here, I am mad. Mom hugged me a lot today. I love mom, but I am not going to do anything but wait for Steve to come back. Mom told me we are going to go look at cars, but I didn’t want to go. She made me go. It was no fun and I told her I wanted to go home. I wouldn’t eat because I didn’t want to and mom was mad. I don’t like making mom mad, but when I am mad, I don’t want to do anything. I don’t have to if I don’t want to.

***

I miss my mom. I love dad and he gives me hugs, he gives me toys, he talks to me lot and he holds me when I cry. But he is not mom. Mom is special to me because she understands me. She likes me and I am sad when I make her mad. I don’t know how to tell her how I feel sometimes. I don’t know the words to use because I don’t remember words very well. I sometimes make mom very mad and I don’t mean to, I just want because she is special to me.

***

I miss my brother. He came to stay with us for a few days. Cody is a good brother and I love him. He is like Steve. He plays games with me and he talks to me like I am not dumb. Sometimes he gets mad at me for throwing the toys, but he doesn’t stay mad long. I miss him when he is not here with me and dad. Cody is good to me. When he went back to live with mom last night I cried. Dad tried to hold me, but I did not want to. I want to go home with Cody and mom. I love dad, but I love Cody and mom too. It is hard for me to say why, but I miss my mom. She holds me different than dad does.

***

I want to go home to mom. Dad is mad because I won’t eat the food he makes. I don’t want to. I want to go home. I want to see mom again.

***

I took a trip today. It was fun. I have a new best friend. His name is Darrell. Darrell is smart. He is 17 years old and is in the same class as me. I am 20 years old and he is smarter. He has very big glasses and wears a helmet when he gets mad, but he is very smart. He helps me understand things. He sat with me on the bus. He has a back pack with stuff in it he needs. He told me about waterfalls and how they come from melting ice in the mountains. He showed me how to get water in my hand and drink it. He splashed me and I was mad until he showed me how to splash and handful of water. We laughed a lot. I like Darrell.

***

Mom gave me a camera today. She showed me how to use it to look at my pictures on the computer. Now I take pictures. I took pictures of Darrell today at school. Mrs. Davenport took pictures of Darrell and me and mom let me print them on her computer. I now have pictures of me and Darrell and me and Steve on my bedroom wall. Steve is not coming back. Steve died.

***

Mom plays music for me. She plays the radio and sings to me sometimes. She picked me up from dad’s place today and said I was coming home. She said she misses me. Dad was mad, but I told him I wanted to go home. He was mad at me, but I don’t care. I will be closer to Darrell and mom and Cody.

When we got home, mom turned on the radio and when I was on her computer playing a game, she hugged me and sang to me. She has a good voice. I stopped playing and listened to her sing. I liked having her hug me and I liked having her sing to me. I swayed to music because I didn’t understand the words, but I liked the music. I hope she does it more.

***

I am sad today. I can not go to school for a while. I am sick. I feel bad. My head hurts. My stomach hurts. I am sick. Mom said she will take me to the hospital but I don’t want to go. A hospital is where Steve went. I don’t want to go. Mom said I need to because the doctor will make me better. I am afraid.

***

Mom held my hand when I went to the doctor’s this morning. He looked in my eyes and my mouth. He used a stick and a light. He was very funny and made me laugh but I still held onto mom. He said I was sick and gave me some medicine. He told mom I would be ready to go back to school in a week. It was ok. I asked if he was to doctor for Steve and he said he wasn’t. I was glad he wasn’t. 

***

I want to be good. I have been home now for a long time. I think it has been a week. I want to go back to school and play with Darrell. His mom brought him over one day and we played some. I feel a lot better. I want to go back to school and mom said I could in two days. I was mad because I wanted to go tomorrow. She said there was no school tomorrow. That made me mad and I threw my toys at her. This made her very cross. She made me sit in my punishment chair. I don’t like the chair and I don’t have to sit in it often, but when I do, I know mom is very mad. I want to be good, but sometimes I just get so mad. I want her to sing to me, but she is mad because I broke something when I threw my toy truck.

***

I want to be smarter, but I don’t know how to be. I can only learn a little every day and I forget a lot. I read what I wrote here, but don’t remember all of it. I remember Steve sometimes, but not a lot. He died. Darrell is my best friend and I see him a lot at school. I want to be smarter so I can sing to mom like she sings to me. I love mom.

The Light

Staring into the light, after-image shadows occlude my vision of things both near and far should my eyes waver. I can't stop looking into the light, but my head bobs on occasion and I have to do everything I can to keep my eyes focused.

Sometimes mom comes into my room and moves me around. She thinks I am uncomfortable when I crane my neck to, what appears to her, to be an impossible angle. It is not uncomfortable to me and I wish I could tell her how much I just want to look at the light. Words don’t come out of my mouth however. I know words and I know how to communicate, but I don’t have the focus to relate information to the outside world. All that mom ever hears from me is a gurgling or grunting when I’m moved.

Only light keeps me focused and my mind from running amok in the tempest of horrific and blinding rages. Only the focus the light brings to my mind can I live this day. Only the light gives me reason to live for tomorrow.

When my eyes can't see the light, my mind races in circles like two flies buzzing around a long-dead carcass. A torrent of all memories I ever had, every word that was ever spoken within my hearing, every thought I ever had congeal into one in my brain.

I hate being in my mind when there is no light. There are too many things crashing around and thoughts and ideas I can’t control. I hear the screams of feelings wanting to escape my mind; I wallow in the avalanche of images that aren’t of light. There is a burning turmoil from a thousand memories of everything I’ve ever seen, a thousand voices from everyone who has ever spoken to me, a thousand scenes replaying themselves, all clamoring for primary attention crashing into one another. Each clamor for their own place in the importance of the forefront of my mind; each blindly banishes the next in favor of itself, only to be shoved aside by another voice, another memory, another firing of a synaptic nerve ending.

The thoughts and ideas that overwhelm me know the answers to almost all the questions I have ever heard. I know why dad is often late coming home from work. I know why mom cries deep into the night. I know why I am left to sit by myself at daycare. I know why people don’t understand me.

What I don’t know is why I can’t take that which is in my mind and share it with the outside world.

My mind won't focus on the stuff mom and dad and others try to tell me, I just need to look into the light. The light is the only thing in my life that really matters to me.

The light keeps me calm and able to function to the extent I function.

When I hear music playing somewhere and the light allows me to hear the beat clearly, the music presents to me a mathematical representation of sound and I sometimes allow my body to sway with the rhythmic beat, but only if my mind allows me to focus and hear the music clearly. There are some rhythms the light is incompatible with and the music is drowned out by the focus the light demands of my mind.

In reality, it's the light I want. I want to look at it all the time. I cherish the light and the comfort it brings me and how it settles my mind. It isn't just one light, it is the light.

Wherever I am, I need to see the brightest thing in my world. If mom or dad takes me outside I want to look at the sun. The sun is my favorite light. It is warm on my eyes and the after images last for a very long time. They put glasses on me to darken it so I won't burn my eyes out, but I like the bright sun.

One time I saw and arc welder and it was brighter than anything I had ever seen. It was a very small and very bright light. The man who was welding saw me staring at the light and stopped welding. He asked if I was stupid, and then he told my mother what I was doing. She was very angry with me, but the small bright light left images for days.

I enjoyed those images and they curried favor with my mind. It was peaceful in my head and my thoughts were clear for many, many hours of what was left of that day and well into the night. I wish that clarity had lasted longer and although I can recall perfectly the image of the light in my head and can imagine how bright it was, only the sight of a light can keep my mind from tearing itself asunder.

When I am in my room, I look at the light in the lamp. It isn’t as bright as the sun or the welder, but I can look at it all the time. I watch it and it will move and morph into visions only I can see.

I see a world only I can see.

If I am put into a room where there is no light on which I can focus, my mind will rebel and I struggle to maintain control; my body will flail until I can see a light on which to focus. I need my mind to focus or everything in my mind will fall into turmoil more confounding and entangled than a kitten’s ball of yarn.

The sweat that drips into my eyes burns terribly and I have difficultly looking at any light for days. My mind battles itself until my vision gets better and I can focus again on a light.

I hate nights because of the darkness. I can remember all six of my years and it is at night that I am most afraid of not having a light for my mind.

I have to use a night light. It took a long time for my parents to realize I need a light on which to focus. After many nights of my mind running amok and my body thrashing around uncontrolled, my parents realized a simple light for me to look at was all I needed.

One time my parents turned it off when I was asleep. I believe they felt I had outgrown needing a light at night. I awoke with nothing to see and I wrecked my crib and broke my arm before I could see a light again.

One other time the light burned out before I fell asleep and I crawled out of my crib to lay with my head on the floor at the bottom of my door so I could see the light in the hallway. Sometime in the middle of the night, long after I had fallen asleep, my dad opened my door and broke my nose and knocked two of my teeth out.

I didn't cry out because I saw beautiful sparkling lights for many minutes, but my mom and dad cried over me. The spinning lights from the ambulance were beautiful for as long as I could see them. A doctor checking me shined a very bright light into my eyes as well. Those are memories I replay again and again when my mind allows me to.

Candles are good to watch because the flame moves. I could watch a candle the rest of my life. I could watch a candle flicker and move in currents of air no one can see. I am not allowed too close to candles because they burn things, as my grandmother found out one day while I was being taken care of at her place.

They don't understand that it is the light that allows me to keep control. Without the light there is nothing to keep my brain from killing me. My body may be that of a broken doll with muscles that twitch and jerk, but my mind is filled with everything I have seen or heard.

I am in here, but I can not control everything that I know. It’s like holding a hundred marbles in one hand. Only perfect and constant focus can keep those marbles from crumbling, except I have thousands of memories and shaking hands.

The light transfixes me and I am thoroughly addicted to it. If my parents didn't force food into me, I would probably starve because watching the light is more important to me. My body’s hunger is not important to my mind and my skeletal appearance bothers my parents, but I don’t care.

My body is not like their bodies. My arms don't reach for them; my legs only walk when forced to. My lips don’t utter the sounds they use to communicate; neither do my eyes search for them when I am alone. I know this bothers them, but my mind won’t allow me the niceties they exchange.

My misshapen body would rather crumble to the floor and watch a glowing light.

Sleep is the only thing that interrupts my watching the light at night. My eyes close because my body gives up to exhaustion and nothing I can do can stop the sleep from overcoming me. I hate sleep unless I can see the after-image of the light when I close my eyes.

Sometimes I dream of the light. I dream of bright lights shining on my face, I dream of a single pin point of light in a dark room that only I can see. I watch the light in my dreams as my body sleeps.

I think I know that it isn't a real light, but it lets my body sleep and gives me a light to see.

I need the light.

I love the light.

And it loves me.