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‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ was a clever piece of political maneuvering on the part of President Clinton’s advisors. Though he’ll always be remembered for it, I refuse to give him credit for being smart enough to come up with that on his own.
You see, while President Whitewatergate was busy trying to get himself impeached…and getting his peepee played with, his advisors did their homework. They were savvy enough to see that were he granted the right to serve his country, Little Jimmy down the street would go from a second class citizen to someone who might be required to fight and die in the name of liberty and justice.
After that, it’d only be a matter of time before some politician with enough active brain cells to keep a thought warm would recognize the hypocrisy and find himself compelled to point out that Jimmy’s partner Leon must have the right to pull the plug should Jimmy return from his tour in Afghanistan or Iraq or wherever in a vegetative state. Naturally, Leon wouldn’t have that right without some sort of domestic union.
But don’t worry they’ll never call it marriage because the rightwing, conservative, hate mongers will always have a copyright on that particular word.
And that’s still just nomenclature. Who really gives a shit? Only the hate monger trying to hang on to a thread. I think they should get a hobby. Maybe torture small animals? Something like that.
See what I did there? They accuse me of bestiality and I accuse them of animal cruelty. Let the mudslinging commence!
However, I would be quick to point out that only one those two behaviors is highlighted in the brochure for spotting a serial killer. And of those two groups of people, folks who have a predisposition to fanatical, irrational hatred are far more likely to kick a puppy than homosexuals are to, umm…
But either way the puppy loses. Poor puppy.
Anyway, it’s only a matter of time now before we enjoy the same right to get drunk and screw up our lives over a night in Vegas along with the rest of the cool kids. Or I mean, make carefully planned, wise decisions and show the heterosexual majority how it’s done because the powers that be probably won’t bother to create a mechanism within the law to facilitate divorce from these newly forged domestic unions.
It’s funny. They always forget that part. Wouldn’t it be so much simpler and cost effective to ignore the hate monger and use the existing mechanisms?
Whatever.
When that happens, Jimmy’s neighbor Jill and her partner Mary will enjoy the same right. They’ll be able to have children without stressing over who will get custody should either of them perish prematurely. They’ll enjoy tax breaks and cheaper insurance. They’ll be able to own a property together without retaining a lawyer to insure that one of them will not be left homeless should the other pass away.
And all of that is a beautiful thing. Civil liberties for the masses. Imagine that happening in America.
But Jill will still be making on average a dollar less an hour than the man she works beside. She’ll still feel compelled to ask a security guard to walk her to her car when she has to work late. She’ll still agonize over which blouse to wear to that important interview because she knows that showing a little cleavage is still the one of the best ways to get what she wants despite the fact that the better part of her nature believes that the notion is silly. And she’ll still be accused of ‘sleeping her way to the top’ if she does. She’ll still ignore the desire to speak up because she knows that coming off bitchy is still the best way to sabotage her goals.
They tell me I should be patient.