Warm Poetry

Since it's national poetry month, I've been reading Elsa Gidlow and Dylan Thomas again. I like poetry: stories written without poetry in mind are dead. Writers who have never even tried to write a poem, like Robert Jordan or Kevin Anderson, stand out because their imaginations are so obviously blanded. They imagine things in Hollywood camera-eye style, rather than caring about the meter of their sentences. You can't read a story out loud that wasn't first written that way.

And there are still poets worth reading. Today, I'll send you to Lemonhound, although there's not a lot of actual poetry on her blog.

Yes in the pantry while the poker game peaked.
Yes in stilettos.
Yes in flats.
Yes in pink plastic.
Yes you do.
Yes I will.
Yes while there's still time.
Yes while I can.
Yes whenever possible.
Yes I'll be a top.
Yes I'll be your bottom.
Yes I'll whomp your ass.
Yes after shopping.
Yes with chocolate.
Yes now.
Yes here.
Yes even alone.

Lie By Omission

Attorney General Alberto Gonzalez, following in the grand tradition of attorneys general by being utterly opposed to the Constitution of the United States, yesterday asked Congress to pass laws requiring all web pages on the internet to be rated, much as movies and video games are rated (what's next? ratings for books? At least one Christian "family" group has endorsed the idea).

Gonzalez cited a study by the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children that showed (you've seen these billboards) that one in five children between the ages of 10 and 17 was "sexually solicited" (whatever that means).

What Gonzalez did not tell Congress was that, in that one-in-five result, most of the "solicitations" came from other children in the same age group. Come-ons from one teen to another are the on-line equivalent of adolescent sexual fumbling, rather than a vicious preying upon our children by dirty old men.

Impeach the whole lot of them. Now.

Squick!

Okay, girls, now that you've had your period for the first time, I want you to turn to your father, gaze deeply into his eyes, and repeat the following:

I make a promise this day to God to remain sexually pure until the day I give myself as a wedding gift to my husband. I know that God requires this of me that he loves me and that he will reward me for my faithfulness.

Y'know, there's a fine line between giving your children the information they need to make well-informed decisions (whatever your ideological bent) and actively being involved in your child's sex life, and this little bit of tripe is over that line.

Oh, the father then responds,

I choose before God to cover my daughter as her authority and protection in the area of purity. I will be pure in my own life as a man, husband and father. I will be a man of integrity and accountability as I lead, guide and pray over my daughter and as the high priest in my home. This covering will be used by God to influence generations to come.

Okay, now I'm squicked.