LOL graffiti can be good. On the bathroom hand-dryers in the basement of the psych building in Madison certain letters are crossed out to make different words...

The real message:
For your well being we have installed electric hand dryers to protect you against the dangers of disease that may be transmitted by cloth towels or paper towel litter. Medical tests prove that electric drying minimizes the possibilities of disease. It is always available at the touch of a button...more convenient...prevents chapping...and dries more thoroughly than cloth or paper towels.

The edited message:
For our well being we have stalled electric hand dryers to protect you against the angers of ease that may be transmitted by cloth owls or ape towel. dic tests prove that tric drying minimizes the possibilities of ease. It is always available at the ouch of a butt...more con...prevents happi...and dries more roughly than clot or ape towels.

It's that or the ones with the diagrams of hot air coming out of the dryer that say push button - get bacon =)

Labels: lols

Validation is a point I bring up a lot, I know. Another of its perks is that in validating someone, you put another thing out there that proves their existence and makes life more tangible.

Labels: philosophy, validation

I found this on a half sheet of paper I'd gotten from one of my Bible study classes back in the day. At the time I was like "that's cute," but it means a whole lot more now that I'm old enough to recognize religious hypocrisy lol. Don't know who it was by and I'm not going to post the whole thing, but if 3 people on the internet notice my highlights here and thinks twice before going on a religious tirade, it'll be worthwhile...

"When I Say I'm A Christian,"

When I say I'm a Christian - I'm not shouting I am Proud, I'm whispering
I was lost and that's why I chose his way.
When I say I'm a Christian - I'm not bragging of success, I'm admitting that I failed and cannot ever pay the debt.
When I say I'm a Christian - I don't think I know it all, I submit to my confusion, asking humbly to be taught.
When I say I'm a Christian- I'm not claiming to be perfect, my flaws are too visible, but God thinks I'm worth it.
When I say I'm a Christian - I don't wish to judge, I have no authority because I only know that I am loved.

There is a compromise here, obviously. I think the best thing to do while being a good Christian is to be a good person, too.

Labels: religion

Where, exactly, do I invest my time? What is it that makes me distinctly me? Regardless of the answers, I'm pretty sure a good portion of the response to both questions is "wasting time."

I've just discovered that most of my old friends from middle school/early high school are on MySpace and have been writing blogs. A part of me is a little hurt by the fact that nobody ever told me, but I know that's pretty illogical, since we've lost touch completely over the years. If I had done things differently (not necessarily better, just differently), we probably could still be friends. It makes me kind of jealous that they're all still friends, they're leading interesting lives, they've spawned unique talents, and they've grown up to look very different from before. I feel kind of left out and jealous, but I suppose that irrationality is what makes me a human being.

I know a lot of my emotions have to do with the frame of reference. Things always look rosier when you see them second hand through personal propaganda (read: social networking sites) and I'm left to wonder how I look to people on Facebook. I also wonder what they thought of me when we were friends and what they think of me now.

In other words, my desire to do something cool persists.

Labels: life, philosophy

I have three blog entries on the back burner, so I'll try my best to keep them distinct.

Last weekend I went home and it was wonderful as usual. My aunt's in-laws were having their 50th wedding anniversary, so Ree, Tim, and Mason, and their separation anxiety-prone dog, Cleo, were staying overnight at Grandpa Kenny's house. This meant that there was plenty of time for me to play with Mason. Him and I are buddies and when I'm not there and he feels I should be, he will keep asking when I will arrive. That's a good feeling.

Mason, Cleo, and I were playing "hide and squeak," and since Mason is only 3 years old it was relatively easy to include the dog. All I had to do was call Cleo into the room after she'd left and she'd come running over to me while we were hiding behind a sofa or underneath a blanket. It wasn't difficult to convince Mason that she'd found us by legitimate terms of the game. It also didn't hurt that Cleo raised a mighty rumpus of howling and wiggling whenever she found us.

Despite her anxiety issues, Cleo is a wonderful dog. She's very cute and very loving. In fact, I've never seen an animal so excited to see people in my life. So after one of the rounds when Cleo found Mason and I under a chair cushion, she started to lick my face and get all excited, so I gave her a hug and said, "Cleo is such a good dog, isn't she?"

I was rather surprised when Mason said, "No," since he's at the age when he's likely to agree with any statement he doesn't feel strongly about. I asked him why he would say that and he told me that she was mean. As it turned out, she'd bitten him earlier that afternoon. Knowing Cleo and Mason treat each other like brother and sister competing for mom's attention, I asked him why she'd bitten him.

"I dunno...Well, I bit her in the tail and she bit me in the face," he said in his 3 year old dialect. I promptly gave him a brief verbal lesson in cause and effect, but I think Cleo's lesson had more impact =) At the same time I'm willing to bet he'd do it again.

Ree just got back from a month long adventure in India refining her skills as an Ayurvedic Healing Practitioner. She had a magical experience and still found time to bring me back some bitchin' souvenirs; a bag featuring a really neat print of Ganesha, a set of 7-day incense, a fan made entirely of layered peacock feathers, an amazing bronze ohm symbol, and some really unique candy with flavors Americans are likely to call "savory and spicy," as opposed to sweet. She is incredibly thoughtful and the gifts inspired me to look up the history of Hindu gods and Indian culture.

My family decided to go to the mass for the 50th anniversary as well (Catholics often have church services for that sort of thing), since it was at our old church and Tim's dad is starting to get pretty sick. I haven't been to church in probably 2 years, consistently in closer to 4 or 5, so it was kind of strange, since I've completely separated from Catholicism now, physically and emotionally. I struck a compromise by only responding to the prompts I agreed with, not taking communion, and leaving significant gaps in the Nicene creed.

During the weekend announcements, a representative from the Knights of Columbus came to the front of the church to make a little speech about joining. He reminded us that in order to be a Knight you had to be male, catholic, and over 18. At this point I turned to my mom and asked,
"What is this, the Middle Ages?"
"No, this is Catholicism," she replied. Oh, snap!

While looking around the room at the end of mass I realized again that I genuinely did not want to be a part of this religion. I saw so many stereotypes sitting around in the pews; people just going to church out of obligation, fear, or habit, people who write prayers about "defending" marriage from homosexuals, and people who are unwilling to listen to any sort of logic and are just bible-thumping because somebody told them that was the right way to pray. I know this happens anywhere you go, religious or not, which is why I don't feel bad for not going to church. I don't want other people defining my relationship with God in ways that I don't agree with. Fellowship can be nice sometimes, but ultimately I'd prefer it to be just Him and me in the progressive but faithful world He has constructed to make sense for Steph.

Meanwhile, it impressed me a little bit to see the old women sitting in the same pew as they have every Sunday since they were children. That kind of faith you can't judge. Not even the faith of the old lady in front of me that smelled like cat pee, all I could do was stop breathing when we stood to sing, while applauding her divine joy.

I know it sounds like I am awfully cynical about Catholicism and organized religion in general, but I am pretty spiritual and really there are parts I respect. I'm very glad that I went to mass last week and I feel like I got a lot out of it. This is why I will recite anecdotes and make snarky comments (about almost everything), but there are some lines I didn't cross and wouldn't cross. I would let you know if I really hated something.

One more story: before the mass started we were all gathered in the back of church. I was following Mason around, making sure he stayed out of trouble, when he climbed up on a chair and looked into the sanctuary. "I don't see God in there," he said with concern. To which my father responded with a God-fearing laugh, "Uh oh, you'd better look harder!"

Interpret that as you will - I know I've retained a few personal responses from multiple perspectives. What I wonder, though, is what he thought God was going to look like, his family is far from the "white male in robes on a throne above the clouds" type.

Labels: family, religion

You know what you should love? Manny's Lemon Tortilla Chips. Seriously, you don't even have to eat them, just standing next to them makes you a better person...although they really are best when they turn your fingers red in all of their lemon, chili pepper, crisp bubble goodness. I usually eat 10 out of the 14 servings in one sitting though =(

So I'm watching Comedy Central and it's 1:30 in the morning. Anyone who has ever done this knows that there's plenty of dirty movies advertised. Well, for the first time, I saw an advertisement for "Guys Gone Wild." Pretty much it's identical to "Girls Gone Wild" but with the opposite sex. They appear to do all of the "naughty, wild, behaviors" that they encourage in the other ones. However, the interesting part is how putting men in identical situations to the ones we put women into highlights how bizarre the whole thing really is. Nobody questions it or even thinks about it when a college girl comes out in a bikini and starts grinding on a chair, but when I saw a guy do it I actually laughed. What makes demeaning, stupid behavior sexy when a woman does it? Why is it ok for a woman to do anything to appease someone but when a man emulates her we say, "don't be ridiculous."

Also, it weirds me out hearing a woman say in a monotone voice "You look like this is the first time you've done something like this," to the half naked man she was filming. "Can you show us some moves?" she said next, and I know I've heard that one on the Girls Gone Wild commercials. It's not like I enjoyed hearing the man say this stuff to the woman on the one geared toward men, but I just dismissed it as porn and I didn't think about it. I'm not sure I've ever heard a woman, on the other hand, behaving like a "manizer." (On that note, why is "manizer" not a word, but "womanizer" is?) The only real differences between the two videos was that the women also say things to the men like, "Baby, you smell good," and there's no guy-on-guy action. Some might argue that it's because women care more about emotional attachment in their porn and monogamy (there are arousal studies I've read, I can get them to you if you like). Either way, these are double standards I'd rather not have in this world.

I don't know. I'm kind of glad that they're evening things out between the sexes (or at least capitalizing on different audiences) but it really highlights the apathy and indifference people have toward the subjugation of women. They may be trying to appeal to everyone, but the content is still disgracefully objectifying. Well, I suppose now they're less discriminating about who they objectify, the only subculture I see left out is gay men. Do you hear me, "gone wild people," I expect to see multi-man action before "Girls Gone Wild 37" or "Girls Gone Geriatric."

ON A MORE SOPHISTICATED TONE, we were in the museum again on Friday for my art history class. I know I've mentioned how mind-bending it is for me to picture the lives of the artifacts, but I'm bringing it up again. I think sculptures, pottery, clothing, and other lasting 3D works are more engaging than paintings. Don't get me wrong, paintings are amazing and I think we have a lot to learn from them. I also like to picture the artist, the inspiration, and what other people said and thought while looking at it through time, and I think we can learn a lot by focusing on how people interpreted the composition in different eras. When you take a 3D object, however, more often than not it had an actual physical function when it was made. It was crafted for a practical reason - storing food, sitting on, idol worship - but most of them no longer are used for their initial function. It seems to me like having a purpose and being used on a regular basis gives it so much more depth. Then it gets buried for thousands of years, dug up, and put on display. Or maybe it sat around somebody's house forever because they didn't know it was worth anything (or maybe it wasn't worth anything shortly after it went obsolete in the household.)

Paintings miss out on a whole amazing stage. As far as I know, paintings degrade when buried, they don't have the longevity and endurance to sit underground for entire lifetimes. I love 2D art but I am mystified by the idea that something like a musical instrument can change its role in the world as it ages. It would seem to me like people go through similar phases. You're introduced to the world and people hope the best, suddenly you're young, strong, and important - you make a mark on your environment, you contribute physically, you have a "purpose," then you age and get tossed aside, until finally you're old enough for people to appreciate you and learn something from your lifetime (if you're lucky).

Labels: gender, philosophy

I haven't really got time for this, I have 15 more drawings to do for tomorrow morning and I have a hard time spending less than an hour on each of them, but at the same time I can't draw forever and I know I have to do SOMETHING productive in between. It shouldn't be too tough to pump this sucker out, since I wrote it up on paper first since it was originally "just a few thoughts while my computer is off." With that in mind, this blog entry goes by my motto for writing: "everything always sounds more poetic in your head." Now to business.

Ultimately, I am proud of who I am. I am proud of the fact that I don't change for other people. I am even proud of who I am not. At the same time, while I like what I'm about, I still wish I had a few more things to define me so that I might have even more depth and interest. This is tough because it's not easy to pick up cool new things when I'm already behind in the things I do. It has always saddened me that I cannot do everything.

One of the big things I wish I could add to my repertoire would be to travel on an amazing abroad/service project/anything to another country...But I can't afford it. I also wish I could volunteer, but again: I can't afford it. To take that kind of time off from work or the time I spend relaxing between jobs would be impossible. I really wish my situation didn't limit my options. I know all of this sounds horrible because, even with the lost time and wages, I would still be better off than the people I would be helping as a volunteer. Ultimately I'm young, busy, and I worry a lot about my future. Meanwhile, that could be called selfish. Good intentions about volunteering count for nothing.

Community service aside, I know that what makes people cool are the cool/unique things they do, and what makes those things "unique" is the fact that few people are able to (or brave enough to) do them. By definition, I shouldn't feel so bad for not doing unique things, because if many people could do them, they wouldn't be unique. Kind of an impossibility for the entire world - and what would make me so special that I should be the exception?

Still, I know people with less cash than I and that didn't stop them from going abroad. This means it's not the money that's stopping me. Ultimately what's keeping me back is my cautiousness...although...I suppose the aforementioned people aren't saving up for their weddings...well, that sounds like an excuse, the point is that I have to not be afraid of taking risks or screwing up.

After watching Little Miss Sunshine last weekend, I'm reminded that I have been wanting to do something I can be recognized for. This is more of a quandary than it may seem. Ultimately, as human beings, we need validation from others. Still, we shouldn't compromise ourselves and our desires to fit the standards of others. So...what happens if your desire is to be recognized by others? This puts me in a moral battle with myself. Society has always told us not to care about what others think (despite what they REALLY say through the media and under their breath), so go ahead and do what we want - but in doing so we deny our desire to be idolized. It's a lose/lose situation, one is always denying his or her desires.

I try to brainstorm ways to make my future children's lives better adjusted/accepting than mine. This means I'll have to find an answer to my questions some day. That's probably why I reflect on my own life so much. The easy solution for this particular problem would be to just eliminate the desire to be in the spotlight, but in my opinion that's still compromising your goals.

Speaking of my shortcomings, events have transpired lately to make me intolerant of certain people (I guarantee they would not be the same people reading this blog) and I don't even feel guilty about feeling this way or having not patience. In fact, I'm proud myself for rising about the rat race and not succumbing to their ridiculous ass-kiss fest. This is probably wrong of me. Perhaps that's the thought I'll analyze another time.

Back to the topic at hand, I can't think of how to stop from caring what other people think, those same other people are the people who decide what awards, scholarships, or attention I get. I'm not quite ready to stick it to the man and start living purely for myself. Well, I shouldn't say that, I do live for myself; I've got a strong sense of priority and naturally what I want always comes first in the grand scheme of my own decision making (lol is that good or bad?) and then I factor other people's opinions into the process when I ought to. What I mean to say is, I haven't quite crossed the line into camping out like a hippie - refusing to do something because it's harmful to the progression of the human race no matter how badly I actually want to do it (like not eating meat for the animals' sake, boycotting major chain stores to fight for the little man, or not wearing make-up in an attempt for equality between the sexes).

I figure when I get old enough the answers will just come to me. I'll have all of the answers, in fact. Either that or I'll be able to settle with not knowing and I won't judge people either. Strange as it sounds, I really think that will happen. Unfortunately, suffering is one of the only ways to truly learn.

We all have problems we can change, problems we can't, and problems that crop up on a daily basis. Ultimately I think my problem set is one I can handle and one I would choose for myself, given the opportunity. This will sound hokey, but the other night I was lying in bed thoughtlessly singing "It's Not Easy Being Green." As my mind drifted over the word green, I thought, "Hey, I like green. If I had a color, it would be green." As I put the idea of me being green into the context of the song, it struck me that the song pertains to me more than I'd thought. It goes beyond fables that tell kids they should just be themselves no matter what the context and everything will be fine. It delves into shortcomings and the static qualities of reality, but still makes it okay to really like yourself and choose to embrace your identity. This entry may not have been very profound for you, but it represents something very important to me so I enjoyed writing it. Even the song may have sounded obvious to you and you may not be as touched by the thought as I was, but for me a favorite kids' song showed truth and reason, even though I assumed for 20 years that it was just being cliche.

"When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why, but why wonder why
Wonder, I am green and it'll do fine, it's beautiful
And I think it's what I want to be"

I wonder if Jim Henson thought the same about himself.

Labels: Me, philosophy

What a day, now one of my residents, who usually yells at his girlfriend on his cell phone for at least 2 hours a day, is SCREAMING obscenities from the stairwell like I've never heard a person scream. I'm pretty sure they can hear him on the 10th and 2nd floors. He's very private (believe it or not) so I am not sure confronting him is the best idea at this moment, even to see if he's ok. He's also very temperamental. They really should break up, this is ridiculous. His poor roommate. Oh, yup, looks like I made the right decision. His roommate just stepped into the stairwell to ask him if he was all right and he said "Yes, it's none of your fucking business." His roommate responded, "Well, I'm pretty sure it's everyone's business when you're yelling like that."

I sure hope we can make it through the end of the year.

This morning I went to bed at 12:30, couldn't fall asleep until 1:30 because large groups of people kept yelling in the halls. Woke up again at 2:30 from people talking, woke up at 4 for God know why, woke up at 6 from trucks removing snow, and woke up at 7 from trucks removing snow. When my alarm actually went off, I was so tired I didn't want to get up, so I sat and dozed for a while.

In my sleepy haze I was staring at the corner of my room when I saw a little black ball sneak out under my desk chair and dart behind my dresser. I chased after it to catch it but couldn't find it anymore. I guess it was only a matter of time, they've been spotted on floors above and below me, I was just really hoping one would never turn up in my room. I don't even know how it got in, there aren't really any holes in this room, I don't leave out food, and there's no hospitable places to live, since all my shit is made of sealed plastic (in typical college form). Most importantly, I don't really know where it went, again, there are no holes but somehow it vanished. And then I was late for class and it was 10 degrees outside with a -4 wind chill.

Damn mice. I don't accept freeloaders. If it's going to live in this room it had better start paying 5,000 fucking dollars a year just like everybody else.

Labels: Bad Day, Dorm Life

Being in a museum always freaks me out. My mind tries to conceptualize the idea that the piece of currency before me traveled through hundreds of hands before anyone on this planet was even alive. This limestone tomb once held a dead body. The deceased person's family picked it out, had his portrait carved onto it, and that is where he decomposed. My head then wants to imagine how the artifact looked as it passed through every era and style leading it to today. Chronology is not the easiest thing to visualize, either. Unfortunately God has not been tape recording all of this in compressed time so that we may re-watch it and understand the universe. It's like these artifacts are here taunting me, knowing that I can't possibly know what life was like before people started to write things down. By not documenting early human beings it's like a large part of our history as a species has been erased.

This brings up an interesting thought for me. If we have so many other old things we're excavating, why haven't we excavated any half human half lesser life forms yet? We should have found some by now if they're out there. The lack of doesn't rule it out, I suppose, but all in all it intrigues me. Perhaps we did just start out of nothingness, fully formed and ready to go.

I can't believe this blog is halfway through its third year. It will be an interesting memento of my college experiences. Too bad I took two six month breaks. The best part is that the unpublished drafts say the most about me, and I will enjoy reading them (while you cannot).

lol I feel personally privileged. Gordon and I are watching the Report and Stephen made up the word "Wikilobbying," since Microsoft paid money to have a user edit all of the Microsoft entries on Wikipedia to make Microsoft look better. He then made a wager that if someone in the nation would change the Wikipedia entry for "reality" to "Reality becomes a commodity," he would give them five dollars. I considered doing it, since I was typing this blog entry already anyway, but I was too lazy. Instead I waited 5 seconds, went to the Wiki page (with total confidence that it hard already been changed), and sure enough, all the page said was the quote, nothing else. I hit refresh immediately and it had already been reverted to the original definition and protected against edits. Gordon and I were lucky enough to see it in all of its glory, and this brief moment in history will remain frozen in our minds. We've decided that both hopeful fans and Wiki administrators watch the Colbert Report every night with their browsers open to Wikipedia. Thinking of this puts me easily to sleep at night =)

Labels: philosophy, Spider Monkey Doughnuts, Stephen Colbert, Wikipedia

The Bird:
Today while I was walking from the bookstore, library mall was crowded with passing-period traffic. All of the sudden, a hawk comes streaming down at head level, perpendicular to the flow of traffic, and lands on the ground near the feet of a 30-something year old woman. Not only does nobody look at this large bird that cut through their fields of vision, but the woman it landed next to didn't even stop to glance at the hawk that was bold enough to perch 3 feet in front of her for no apparent reason. No interest, no delight, no fear. Just cell phone. After a few seconds of hopping around, it flew up onto a bench and didn't move when people passed close enough to touch it. Me? I stared at it until I couldn't stare anymore. I stared at the faces of all the people around and no one else was even looking at it. There was a freaking bird of prey that practically landed on a group of hundreds of human beings and it didn't care. It was beautiful, it was large, and it was fearless.

One might blame the Millennial generation's ipod/cell phone isolation in a world of personal bubbles and non-places, but I could hardly believe that nobody saw it. You can be so grossed in conversation that you don't see someone pick your pocket but when a hawk comes flying in front of your face you'll at least see it. It just really seemed like nobody cared. What does that mean? Am I the only one impressed with reality anymore?

Obama:
I first saw this man a few months back on the Tonight Show and didn't know who he was. I was, however, immediately intrigued by him. If you also liked that interview, you should see his cheeky spot on The Daily Show. I like the approach he's taken to blurring the lines between parties. Instead of ignoring questions and being vague, he's bringing issues from both sides. For example, I watched a video on You Tube in which he said "The pundits like to slice and dice our country into red states and blue states. Red states for republicans, blue states for democrats, but I've got news for them, too. We worship an awesome God in the blue states, and we don't like federal agents poking around our libraries in the red states. We coach little league in the blue states and yes, we've got some gay friends in the red states." This appeals to me particularly because I don't vote party, I vote issue. It's clear that you can't always side with one group over the other because the issues are all across the board.

Now, I know that political candidates intentionally monitor their demeanors and meticulously pick out stances, phrases, and chronologies of events and there's a part of me that doesn't want to be manipulated by sneaky behavior and intentional scheming. I know Obama probably knew from the start that he was going to run for president while he muttered about how big of a responsibility it was and how he was hesitant to take on the campaign as he feigned doubt, but at the same time, should we not give him credit for making me want to believe him? Isn't his charisma and careful planning the mark of an intelligent man worthy of holding office? (Before you start to cite Hitler, I'm not THAT taken by him to not notice when people are subjugated and violated.) He still had the sense to respond properly and it gives him a realistic aurora that respects a powerful job and thinks twice before taking reign of the country.

I also watched a CNN analysis of his outfits on You Tube, how he goes for the dress shirt and jacket (sans tie) look. It talked about how G.W. Bush and Reagan went for the jacket-less rancher look instead of rich country club playboy, how Kennedy went for the leisurely dad look, and how Nixon failed with the "I can't even walk the beach without looking like I'm itching to go back to the office" look. This was all interesting until CNN compared his garb to that of the Iranian president's, implying that it made him a bad person to go without a tie since the other guy did. Let me just say this: Keira Knightley may wear boot-cut pants but that doesn't mean I'm copying her or we're secretly alike. It just means we both want to achieve the same messages with our wardrobe. We want to avoid trendy-ness without looking awkward. They want to be the people's men. I applaud Obama because it's a soothing look, a nice blend between casual and formal, and it's damn flattering on him. End of story. CNN also went on to say "Not only is his last name Obama, which rhymes with Osama, but his middle name is Hussein like Saddam Hussein. Maybe he wants to re-think this." For one, unless he changed his name, it was what he's given. I'm named after Stephanie Powers but that doesn't mean I admire her, in fact, I don't even know who she is. Not to mention, 1. Hussein is an revered ethnic name that often crops up in Arabic/Muslim culture, 2. His name is an exact replica of his father's, Barack Hussein Obama Senior, and 3. Not only does Obama rhyme with Osama, but it also rhymes with llama, comma, pajama, Bahama, Adama (Yes, Jackie), Mama, o-rama, drama, miasma, trauma, aroma, magma, dogma, edema, diorama, Brahma, mahatma, Yokohama, chroma, Takoma, and countless Japanese words.

You know, even if he does turn out to be the evil liberal hippie who is stealing America from whites like angry republicans like to pretend that he (or anyone who draws attention to white privilege) is, I really don't care. We've spent so much time on the other extreme that I would say our nation could even use someone like that. I think it's funny that the majority says "let's be careful now, you don't want someone too liberal - we like balance, or this country will go to hell. We don't like the extreme white male political system we live in but it would be an atrocity to take our dislike too far." It's cute how they like to pretend that there's a way we can err enough in one candidate to ever account for the ridiculous one-sidedness we've been facing since our country was founded.

I have to say, I'm excited to watch Obama's progression. I want to read one of his books this summer. Anyone know anything about him?

I have to admit, my political interests will never be dormant again after getting so emotionally involved in the fight against the gay marriage ban last fall.

Labels: Barack Obama, life, philosophy, politics