Justifying Hate vs Just Defying Hate

one-world-2I’m not sure who I find more frightening; the proudly, openly bigoted Tr*mp voters who proclaim their misogyny, xenophobia, racism, homophobia, and hatred, or, the explainers and excusers who want to say their vote for Tr*mp does not make them misogynist, xenophobic, racist, homophobic, hate validaters.

That latter group not only denies they’re in any way bigots, but also claim that your calling them out about their corroboration with the forces of evil makes YOU the intolerant one.

Sorry, not the case.

The GOP’s long practiced propaganda technique of denying its own move to further privilege the elite few and wealthy white folk by legislating inequality and while doing so, gaslighting its opponents by accusing them of the very crimes of intolerance of which it is guilty has found its deification in the seriously unbalanced autocratic egomaniac they anointed as their standard-bearer.

And those standards being borne  — as spoken (or Tweeted) from his very lips (or tiny little fingers) — and called “great” and “bigly amazing” are ones that are clearly misogynist, xenophobic, racist, homophobic, and founded on intolerant hatred.

If you voted for Tr*mp, you are culpable. It is no different than giving the keys of your vehicle to someone who is obviously drunk and sending him out into traffic, only, in this case, you’ve given a fleet of vehicles to a gaggle of intoxicated zealots determined to run over everyone not like them because we don’t really belong on their roads.

Congratulations on your feat. These fanatics now control the White House, congress, and — have mercy on us all — the Supreme Court.

And while you are busy searching for ways to make everyone else responsible for your own bigotry and hate and the damage legislation based on it will do — because make no mistake, after what Tr*mp (and his cohorts, spokespeople, supporters) said throughout the campaign, if you voted for him — you voted for them and those words; you cannot excuse it or justify it.

And while I’d like for you to understand the damage you’ve done, well, those of us who did not succumb to such ignorance as path to improving reality will not have time to argue with your silly, schoolyard defense of retorting “I know you are but what am I” because while you mumble, stumble, rant, and rationalize in an effort at justifying your hate, we are going to work in love and light and inclusion to just defy your hate.

They may sound alike: Justify vs Just Defy, but make no mistake, dear haters, there is a world of difference between them and it is that world we mean to save from your sorrowful, empty souls and hearts.

Who do I find more frightening? Not the blatant haters in jackboots and hoods who promise out loud to send me back or beat the crap out of me. Nope. It’s the quiet ones who insist while rights are abrogated and others put in camps and gassed that the perpetrators of those crimes against humanity who they put in office don’t really mean what they’re doing.

They mean it. Tr*mp means it. And if you voted for him, you’re already guilty of the increase in hate crimes that have happened just since he was elected.

Now, you choose: Justify hate or Just Defy Hate?




Complacency and compromise = Death

cws-nov-2016-3I’m trying to stay afloat, and I am asking for your help. I think. And, as I said on Twitter, while I don’t know the shape of my post-election life, I do know it must involve daily assuaging in others that same terror I felt as youth — but how do I do that?

I am in retreat, more or less, struggling with what to do. I am struggling with how much to speak and about what?

In my dark hours, of which there have long been many and of which there are now more and more, I sometimes wander down the dark path of wondering about the theatrical innovations and entertainments I didn’t get to see because Michael Bennett was murdered.

As a teenager I sat overnight outside the Kennedy Center waiting in line for tickets to the first national tour of his masterpiece, A Chorus Line, the album of which I had memorized every single lyric and orchestral measure, its gay characters beacons to the young — closeted because I’d have been dead were I not — rural boy I was with no role models. As a young no-longer-closeted gay man in my early twenties, the original Broadway cast recording of his Dreamgirls was the score of a particular period during which heartbreak became my hobby and habit.

Of course, if you are of a certain age, you understand Mr. Bennett is a symbol, a stand-in for all those others who were assassinated by the indifference and or glee with which much of society reacted to AIDS. Faggots being wiped out by an epidemic was, to many, not a cause for concern but, in fact, just desserts for cocksuckers and buttfuckers.

cws-nov-2016-2I was there. I survived. And I felt plenty guilty about it. What, I wondered, might the more gifted people with better coping skills, with more ambition and courage and intellect, have done with the lives they were denied? In some ways, my fear of rejection and inability to put myself out there had saved me: all the men for whom I longed but didn’t approach, the near-crippling faux-goraphobia of my early adult years coupled with the crust of protective shell I wore like armour kept me uninfected.

For what? Things are becoming LESS rather than MORE clear. Flashes of horror distort and upend me. I marched and fought and argued and stood up and lost and lost and lost and lost and lost and lost for . . .

This? I live in a country where control of all three branches of government has been turned over to a party now led by a band of merry misogynists, proud xenophobes, and hate-mongering homophobes.

And this was accomplished by a minority of people. In a democracy. How did we come to this?

I don’t have any of the answers — or, even, the questions — but I know — or, rather, I feel that we — or, rather, I am required to DO SOMETHING. I don’t yet know what that is.

Am I to exist, Buddha silent, in certainty that all is what it is and will be what it will be and is fate and destiny and temporary and my reactions of fear and loathing are earthly and unworthy of energy; instead, I should be seeing PAST all the hate and despair and misunderstanding and FEAR that brought us here, and focus on the foundation of LOVE and LIGHT eternal inside every soul instead? Should I be working to see ONLY that?

Because, right now, that seems like so much bullshit.

Is there a lesson to be learned from the Democrats believing too much in ultimate goodness of people? Should we have been more prepared for Republican dirty tricks? Refused — as tr*mp would have — to accept election results? Never concede? Impede every step of the way EVERYTHING he and his GOP-cohorts try to do?

cws-nov-2016-1If we don’t, who gets murdered this time? How many Michael Bennetts and could-have-been and should-have-been Michael Bennetts do we lose to silence and disregard?

I wanted to make of my life a work of art. I wanted there to be some reason, some purpose, some something. But, what I’m left with — it feels to me right now — is a compartmentalization of self, and a disconnect. All the Charlies I have been and am, screaming in cacophonous horror, “GET US OUT OF HERE” — because, this. Again.

What do we do?

I wish I knew. But, for now, all I can do is try to find the questions I should be asking, and survive this nagging certainty that complacency and compromise again equals death. And, Michael Bennett and all of the others killed by the callow disregard of hate in the 80s aren’t here to do whatever it is that needs to be done; they can’t make the noise or sing the songs or paint the paintings or tell these stories that need to be told.

So, I guess it’s up to us.

No, it’s not going to be ok

I am terrified.

tr-mpWhat frightens me MOST is not the likelihood that the election was stolen and the terrors T is proposing to do with the demolition of health care, LGBTQ, minority, and reproductive rights, his insane proposals for further cutting of taxes on the wealthy, deregulation of globally and scientifically acknowledged necessary for survival environmental safeguards, the permissions he wishes to grant corporate and banking behemoths to pillage consumers, SCOTUS choices which would bolster his neo-nazi beliefs, his appointment of white-supremacist cabinet members whose proven on-the-record, discriminatory anti-woman, anti-LGBTQ, racist, anti-Semitic stands should disqualify them for inclusion in the human race let alone service in government — NO, it is not JUST that which terrifies me —

— it is that ALL OF YOU are not also terrified. You cannot for one minute believe this is in any way ok. You cannot for one minute allow any of this horrifying tsunami of hate to become normalized.

Please, look at these links:



It is NOT ok. It is not going to be ok. And as stressful as it is to feel this daily panic, you must live in it and allow it to spur you to daily action. You must, because this is not the world we can allow to happen. This is not what we can leave for the coming generations. This is not the world in which we aging folk can spend out final years.

We did NOT make the world we made and fight the fights we fought for equality to allow this to happen.

TODAY — at least do this — I’ve done it three times so far.


penceNo, this is NOT in any way ok. No, this is NOT going to be ok. No, we cannot give it a chance or think it is going to turn out to be ok. Yes, this is EXACTLY how Hitler and the nazis started. Little be little, the erosion of rights and equality. The voter suppression that occurred during this election. The fear mongering. The election of a man with no practical experience and a life marked with abuse of people with less power — from his sexually predatory behavior and attitude toward women to his thievery through Trump University and endless bankruptcies and refusal to pay his debts to those unable to fight him to his choice of a vice-president (who will likely, soon enough, be president) who thinks electroshock and brainwashing should be imposed on LGBTQ people, who thinks someone’s belief in mythical jesus trumps LGBTQ rights to employment, housing, a vice-president who jailed a woman who miscarried a child, a vice-president who thinks what goes on in a woman’s vagina is his business to legislate —

CLICK HERE: READ THIS LINK ABOUT THE MOOD IN MIDDLE AMERICA – this is ridiculously terrifying — and NOT ok

NONE OF THIS IS OK — and it terrifies me anyone can stand by rather than stand up.

It is NOT going to be ok. We must stand up EVERY DAY and demand a recount, demand an accounting for the conflicts of interest, demand that equality NOT be decimated, demand that neo-nazi white supremacists not be cabinet members or supreme court judges, demand the environment continue to be protected, demand reproductive rights be protected. demand that no registry of any religious/ethnic group be allowed, demand that this defrauding clown NOT be inaugurated, but, rather, incarcerated for collusion with foreign governments to steal an election — and Comey of the FBI ought also be prosecuted.

This is NOT ok, my friends. NOT OK. And you should be afraid, NOW, not later. Because this is how it starts, becoming little by little, piece by piece inured to atrocities until your friends are made illegal, their rights denied them, your humanity compromised by the complicity of your having sat by while the groundwork for this outrage and crime against love and light and decency was put in place.

NOT OK. Not now, not ever.


my last nerve which was already worn. to. a. fucking. frazzle. has been further worn — but it shouldn’t surprise me some people from whom one would think one could expect better didn’t support hillary — i mean, when i was at my lowest in life — some people i would previously have trusted with my life couldn’t be bothered to stand up and support me, in fact, either remained silent or joined in hurting my feelings and showing how little my having been abused meant to them — or threw accusations at me saying i was to blame and in the wrong — i find it quite the unamusing and tragic and nauseating irony of irony when those same sort of people talk about how much family means and how we must all be there for one another when they showed so little loyalty to me when i most needed it. the world is full of hypocrites and truth-twisters. and i am exhausted.

Shattered Record

I wrote this in May of this year — it is even more relevant now. I can’t cope with this shit.

here we are going

Fall 1975: Suicide Failure

I couldn’t even kill myself right.

During a summer spent in a fantasy world called theatre camp, I freed the wild, wanton, and want-able boy I’d kept locked inside me. When it was time to return to the torture chamber reality of my small-town junior high school, I knew to survive it I’d have to lock away all the qualities I’d liberated: no more fabulous, shockingly bold homo behavior, no more sex, no more 1930s black and white film, gesticulatory smoking, no more endless cups of coffee all day long, doping and drinking at night, no more of the experimenting with who I could be that had made me celebrity-popular and scandalous in my summer theatre camp world. It was over, and the rigid roles a male was allowed to play were few in Walkersville, Maryland, where I was miscast in every one except target. Not…

View original post 2,540 more words

Silence Equals – NOT THIS TIME

silence_equals_deathI will be back to Twitter very soon – I’m gathering strength by baking cookies, texting and emailing loved ones, and thinking, healing, decorating for the holidays, and reminding myself what it feels like to BELIEVE.

I was in my early twenties the last time a diseased-brained figurehead led a Republican administration as it laughingly ignored a plague which seemed to target me and other gay men, a population Ronald Reagan and his criminally ignorant administration determinedly demonized and cheerfully watched die, encouraging by inaction and carefully parsed propaganda an incendiary hatred against us, insisting we deserved what was happening because we were somehow undeserving of human rights and equality. Reagan didn’t so much as mention AIDS until six years into the epidemic, and he and his equally inexcusable wife had many, many close friends who were gay. That’s what hate and ignorance and the Republican party (and too many Democrats as well) did, and now . . .

. . .  35 years later, here we are again; only this time, the disease-brained figurehead/ Republican party are themselves the plague and the target is not just gay men and the LGBTQ community, but, equality itself. 35 years later, here we are, having somehow watched ascend to power a party led by homophobes, racists, misogynists, xenophobes, anti-Semites, anti-Muslims, anti-planet, fascist religionists, sexual predators, nazi/white supremacist sympathizers. These suited up old-white-men and their armies of jack-booted bullies and brainwashees are determined not just to tyrannically dictate and rule, but to undo and set aside all the hard-won gains we’ve made in the past decades since we came out of silence.

They would silence us again.

Not this time.

I’ve now spent a week in mourning, and am still stuck in disbelief and denial; but I feel myself waking. I do not want to be mired in and acting from the sort of hate that fueled this victory. I have lived and loved and survived enough to know that hate is born from fear and great sorrow; thus, I want to have empathy for the people responsible for this. I know that is the right way to be, to live, to see things from a foundation of Love and Light.

christmas-tree-2016-3-my-reflectionSo, I’ve started putting up the winter holiday around our apartment. And daily baking cookies. And doing something kind for someone else every single day. I’m in healing mode. I’m in recovery mode. What I don’t know is whether or not I am evolved enough to accomplish this fully, right now, in this moment. I am experiencing a lot of anger and misery and horror and hurt. This really, really hurts.

christmas-tree-2016-1But, here is the thing, what has my adult life spent working to spread and embody the principles of Love and Light meant if I surrender now to hate and despair?

I won’t. I can’t. It’s not who I am at core, at my center. So, I’ll be coming back to Twitter, very soon. And speaking up in ways that are motivated by Love and Light. Very soon. Right now, I’m still a bit in shock, a bit afraid, but if you look carefully in the mirror-shot of our holiday tree, you can find my reflection there on the wall. I’m here. I’m strengthening my spine and self-caring and one more time I will be joining in the effort to make a world where everyone is welcome, where inclusion and equality are the foundation, where embrace and empathy are the languages we speak.

I am trying every day, in my own small ways. I don’t have much money, but I have not renewed my subscription to New Yorker Magazine, instead, sending those funds to The Trevor Project — click on the name/here to check it out yourself. I wish they’d existed when I was a young and terrified and desperate gay kid considering and trying suicide.

Hell, who am I kidding? I was considering suicide just this week — but thinking what that would do to my dear ones, and knowing that I could still help some people survive this, that I have the wisdom of the experience of having fought through hate and discrimination my whole life, talked me down from my near-lethal despairing.

We can’t surrender. And maybe, just maybe, in the same way Reagan and GOP assholery and hate prompted a new energy in the fight for LGBTQ equality, this travesty will also bring about a re-birth of activism and invigorate and motivate those who operate from Love and Light to go about changing the world every day.

Maybe we STOP asking to be included in patriarchal constructs and systems slanted to advantage white men in power; like marriage. Maybe we change the world so our priority isn’t about who is inside what borders, but, rather, doing away with borders altogether. Maybe we stop worshipping gods and religious organizations/systems that operate from judgment and hate and disinclusion. Maybe we stop asking to be let in the door, and instead, dismantle the locked, barricaded buildings and erect cities of hope where everyone is welcome.

nov-14-2016-meMaybe we get radical in a Loving and Light-filled and Affirming way and stop trying to conform to flawed schemes and philosophies, instead creating new ones that work for everyone; we feed everyone. We welcome everyone. We don’t label and limit.


But today, we decorate trees. Bake cookies. Reach out to those in pain we can assuage — even a little.

Thank you for hearing me. Thank you for holding me. Thank you for not giving up on me, so that I could make it through to a place where I wasn’t giving up on myself.

Love and Light, dear ones. Love and Light. I’m still here.


Sorry Mrs. Parker, You Were Wrong

P.S. one hour after initial post: Please note, I posted this to Twitter remotely. I have not signed in to Twitter in a month — so, I have not seen my feed, seen any private or direct messages, seen anything at all — so, if you wrote me there, I am NOT ignoring you — I just haven’t the courage or spine or whatever to face it right now. Some of you have my phone digits, my email and messaging is available here. Still love you. Just, I am not me right now and I am better off not engaging too much.

The only reason I am alive is because it would kill my mother and sister were I to die.

Functioning has become a real struggle. I keep thinking I am going to wake up from this horrifying nightmare in which it was made clear to me I am not welcome in this world. I keep hoping I will wake and be told that the election results are invalid; that the combination of media ignorance and false equivalencies, FBI interference, Republican dirty dealing, and Russian hacking requires we all vote again.

This can’t be life. After all the decades of fighting and struggle, this country cannot have elected to power and validated those representing xenophobia, misogyny, sexual predatory behavior, homophobia, bigotry, racism, transphobia, discrimination against everyone but white faux-christians, disinclusivity, and hatefulness.


If you voted for them — nay, even if, knowing what they stood for (and it was up to you TO KNOW that, ignorance is no excuse) you did NOT vote for Hillary Clinton, I don’t want you in my life AT ALL. Stranger, acquaintance, relative, stalker, troll — I am done with all of you who contributed to this disaster and tragedy.

You are my oppressor. You have — on some level — chosen to hate and discriminate against me. You are no longer welcome in my life.

I do not forgive you.

Now, I realize you don’t want my forgiveness. Which is fine. Why would I want in my life someone who has chosen to hate me, to disinclude me from basic equality, to support a person who fueled a campaign and a following on hate of “others”? Please, yes, ignore and dismiss me, be gone. You have already chosen not to love or support me by your actions or inaction, so, this is just the next logical step.

But, I don’t want to hate, so, I need to hide.

Because I am just not evolved enough to forgive right now. I am not evolved enough to “give it a chance.” It isn’t JUST that they were elected and the damage they might do; not just that such damage will likely not be undone in my lifetime. It isn’t that — it’s that so many people voted for it, chose it, allowed it, encouraged it, and celebrated it.

Because if you contributed to this win by not voting, by voting for them, by voting for a third party, well, you’ve chosen hate over love and I can’t have you in my life.

And, if you’re reading this and saying, “He’s over-reacting,” please keep in mind the following; there’s ALREADY been an increase in hate crimes against LGBTQ and Muslims and people of color just SINCE the election. And if that doesn’t warm your loathsome, wretched, near-dead heart, how about the words from Nazi-sympathizing supporters of the GOP elected jackass who are CELEBRATING that LGBTQ people are in despair, who are even CAMPAIGNING to troll LGBTQ people until they self-harm. CLICK HERE

I hope — if you contributed to Hillary’s loss — you can live with that. And, stay strong hater because here’s more good news for you, I may yet be added to the list of those who off themselves, because, yes, oh hateful one, you’ll no doubt be happy to hear there has been a spike in suicides since the election — and I may well be finally unable to deal with the volume of hate and bigotry and vitriol this election represented. Every day right now is a struggle. You win! Good for you.

Dorothy Parker was wrong … you might as well NOT live.

Congratulation on your accomplishments. You are despicable.

I’m Out

It seems I will not be returning to Twitter in the forseeable future. Or, probably, this blog. I just cannot with this tragedy. I have no idea how I will even leave my room. I am terrified. I need to hide. I want to disappear. I am going to work on that. People disappear all the time. In many ways. I’m sorry but I am not strong enough to function in a world where hate can triumph in this way. Goodnight and goodbye for now.

Election Day

I’ve wanted Hillary Clinton to be president since 2008. I was not anti-Barrack Obama when they ran against each other, I was pro-Hillary Clinton. I much admire the fortitude and dignity with which President Obama has served, and now, I look forward to eight years of President Hillary Rodham Clinton.

Although I am flummoxed. I honestly don’t understand why the entire country isn’t acclaiming her, having parades and joyfully elevating her to the office of POTUS. I’m weary of witnessing the results of culturally embedded misogyny and years of Republican slandering and filthy politicking, and, too, sad.

But, I can’t — no, I won’t give in to despair. I believe in my hear that President Hillary Rodham Clinton will be able to begin healing the world, to bring focus and light and love to those places where we can all agree.

I kept myself busy today. When I left for the gym at 6am, it was 34 degrees and the car was gorgeously frosted.


It doesn’t really show, but the roof of the car was glistening as if glittered from this first frost. It was a beautiful way to start the day on which Hillary Rodham Clinton would be elected as the first female president of the United States.


Inside the car, you can see the temperature — 34 degrees — and how beautiful the frost windshield, like living behind a fairy land. I love watching it slowly melt away as the inside of the car warms up and cozies me.

It was a wonderful way to begin my day. I worked out with some desperate vigor at the gym — somehow this morning I had gained five pounds from Friday — which is not possible as I have eaten below my calorie count every single day except free-Sunday — and I definitely did NOT eat five pounds worth of food even then. Odd.

By the time I left the gym the sun had risen. It was a gorgeous day. I love Fall weather. The cool.

I was, however, going nutso. So, I decided I would live in my faith and hope and love and light and bake a red velvet Hillary Clinton victory cake.

I tripped to the grocery store for the ingredients I needed for the cake and the Thai Chicken Rolls I was making for dinner.

Came home. Baked. Chopped. Roasted some tomatoes that were getting close to past their usable date. Vacuumed. Scrubbed the kitchen and bathroom. Read. Called the library — they’d not recorded as returned one of the books I’d taken back yesterday. They were lovely, as always, took care of it, called me back and apologized. Love my library.

Speaking of books, I will book blog soon, but, yesterday on errands I visited my dear Marlene at CURIOUS IGUANA BOOKSHOP [click here] in downtown Frederick. I used to be one of their best customers but I haven’t been in there in ages. I don’t have the money to buy books anymore since moving to this apartment and simplifying my life. I buy almost nothing anymore. Which is good, but, also, I miss buying books and seeing my friends there at Iguana. So, I got to spend a lovely time with Marlene, in the back office, chatting and catching up. Good times.

Good people. The world and my life is full of them.

Anyway, I made a cake. Look!


The finished product. I used sprinkles! And I — Charlie Smith — made something red, white, and blue — which is a first, believe me. I don’t do the national thing at all. This is about Hillary’s pantsuit colors.


In process — yes, I used a Santa plate — I already have the table set with Christmas stuff. Seriously, I am reaching for childhood comfort feelings. Waiting for them. Waiting. Waiting.

We still haven’t cut into it — I’m too nervous and afraid to jinx things. I have retreated to my room — I go out to the living room with sister every half hour or so but I can’t watch non-stop. It’s making me crazy.

I posted a picture of my cake on Twitter — my first post in weeks. I did it from a distance, still haven’t actually signed in to see what is there — although Marlene told me she had sent me a DM — so, I know there are good things waiting for me. It may soon be time to go back. I’m torn.

I’m not quite at peace yet. There are stories I need to share. But, I think, not there. And, not here.


Bachardy and Isherwood and I need to talk to Steve. About. My. Disconnects. Mismatches. Missed matches. How beauty and beasts and youth and age experience and secrets and sorrows and silences and emotional somersaults and … never mind. I’ll bake cakes.

I miss my friend, Steve, because the stories and things about which I need to talk right now were the kinds of things he listened to and didn’t judge.

I am kind of lonely. Longing for feelings or feeling the need for longings long unfelt or felt for too long or something confusing all the details of which I could say out loud to Steve and — shit, I miss him.

Yes. Anyway, my cake. The returns. Here I am, going.


Hillary ClintonI was given the gift of a choice: I could have been somewhere other than home these next few days, could have been visiting a loved city, having a unique, once in a lifetime kind of adventure.

I’m staying home.

I voted early, so my civic responsibility has been met. I am, of course, with her.

The choice is about a need for comfort and safety in a time fraught with divisive and threatening energy and rhetoric that has left me emotionally scarred, cowering, bruised enough to remove myself from a place I love — Twitter — and averting my eyes, ears, heart from the world around me as much as I can because the choices nearly half this country is making are inconceivable to me, feel like attacks and bullying and hate directed personally at me and those I love.

A major political party which has long whispered hate campaigns in code, during this election has revealed its true colors (or, more-like, hatred of colors and rainbows of choice, so to speak) by nominating a candidate who has given legitimacy to extremist groups of racists, misogynists, homophobes, xenophobes, religionist-nut-jobs, and fringe-violent fanatics. The republican party’s sexual predator of a nominee — along with those shameful republican party members who have refused to disavow him by remaining members of the party  — have given validation to those white supremacists and hate-mongering lunatics who populate his rallies and who proudly wear their white hoods and confederate flags and promise to “make America great again” which means to them, apparently, white and heterosexual and male and safe for rapists and bullies and lynch-mobs.

It is disgusting. It is appalling. It is unbelievable. It is terrifying. And it is inexcusable. Anyone — and I mean anyone, Paul Ryan and the republican party and its members and major news media and people with bumper stickers and yard signs — who has NOT disavowed this man and his hate-talk and the party who gave him a platform through its decades of whisper-hate and coded-bigotry is culpable and guilty of fascist sin.

All those anyones are responsible for the next LGBTQ kid who kills themself in fear. The next victim of a hate-crime based on religion, race, sexuality, gender, so-called otherness of any kind. And, worse, some of those anyones would celebrate those crimes, want a world in which those others than themselves are in danger for that otherness.

Those anyones who have stayed in the republican party are as despicable to me as those who stayed in the catholic church (or any church) that continues institutionally to propagate lies of homophobic and sexist inferiority, encouraging the mistreatment and death of LGBTQ people. When so-called good people continue by membership to validate bad institutions which support, advocate, and preach hate, dis-inclusion, and bigotry, then they lose their good-people card.

There is no justification for voting for that man. There is no justification for defending institutions which would nominate him or others like him.

It is a choice. And that half this country would make it, would try to justify it, would fail to examine their own culpability in the hate it validates, is terrifying to me.

And my choice is to vote against it, to vote for love, and then to stay home, to bunker in, near loved ones who need me with them should the worst happen.

My choice, your choice. I hope, if you are reading this, you choose love. Because, make no mistake, this election is about the difference between Love and hate.