Megyn Kelly puts the smack down on her FOX colleagues.

Tina grew up in a single-parent, mom-dominated household and she turned out to be the biggest jerk, fuckup ever.

I mean, all she does is lay around shooting up herion and staring at the ceiling.

She’s as good as fucking vegetable.

At least there’s a voice on FOX who stuck up for reasonable thought.

The men on that show above cry about the apocalyptical changes in the world … they are no different than guys 60 years ago screaming about the changes in the world.

Embrace it, assholes. The world changes. That there’s the facts.


Fascinating: Inbreeding was more common than you thought

Charles Darwin (age 33) and his son William (n...

Charles Darwin (age 33) and his son William (notably the only picture known of Charles Darwin and another member of his family). Scanned from Karl Pearson, The Life, Letters, and Labours of Francis Galton. Daguerrotype originally from the 1842. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Over at The Still Room, blogging virtuoso Becky Fifield wrote a post called, “Digging Up My Ancestors – Inbred,” part three in a series of blogs about digging up ancestors and worshiping them. 

Becky explains that inbreeding has been more common in history than you thought. And while some states outlaw certain sex acts, they continue to allow inbred marriages.

The sex acts note was mine, by the way.

Take for example this from Becky:

But when families stay generation after generation in one area out of which few people immigrate to new territories, inbreeding happens. Charles Darwin and his wife, Emma Wedgewood, are probably the most famous inbred couple. Darwin himself was among the first to scientifically investigate inbreeding, and acknowledged that marrying his first cousin could be responsible for the frequent illness and the deaths of three of their children. This is examined in this article from Bioscience by Berra, Alvarez, and Ceballos.

Coming from the south, I was all too aware of the inside joke of marrying family. Sex jokes with cousins, aunts and uncles were common.

As an adoptee who didn’t know who and where my birth family were and as someone who obsessed about meeting them, I often worried that I would inadvertently fall in love with and marry a cousin or sibling, or an aunt … or uncle!

Bum, bum, bum!

I was taught that blood tests before marriage would prevent that from happening. But it didn’t stop the fantasy or possibility of thinking about it.

As a kid, my imagination fixated on the idea of meeting parts or all of my birth family. And while my immaturity sometimes prevented me from being able to handle knowing them, there was a strong urge just to know.

Now that I know who my birth family is, it’s hardly a big deal. The hierarchy of that family is nuts. I have cousins who are as limited in thought as rocks with graffiti on them.

I’m surprised my birth mom still claims to be a Christian after all these years of putting up with her family’s patriarchal, religious extremist, bullshit-believing family. When I talk to her, she is so liberal and free-minded one second. But I can figuratively hear the cogs come to a halt when she backs off and talks about religion and Jesus during phone conversations. These phone conversations are infrequent, yearly at best. But I’ve given them much thought.

Let me put it this way, imagine having a big piece of bubble gum in your mouth. You take a chunk of it and pull it away from your lips. No matter how far you go with it, it stays connected. That’s the way I see my birth mother, her family and religion. No matter how hard or far she goes to get away from that awful, short-sighted mindset of conservative, religious thought, she’ll always get snapped back into it.

Even though you can be happy as a separate piece of bubble gum and you can still go back in the mouth once in a while, setting yourself free of that sticky ideology is too freaking hard.

This is the Yeshua Fog™, and it does not let go easily.

Are you bound by the Yeshua Fog? Are you the piece of bubble gum who is incapable of becoming unstuck because of familial pressure?

We’re here for you. At least I say I am. Come on over and talk a while.


When life gives you a loved one whose views don’t match yours make lemonade

Did you notice Pea Dub’s Peeper Dee yesterday?

For those who don’t know, Pea Dub, formerly Old Fart, is my dad.

He titled his image: “God or evolution at his or its best.”

This might not strike you, but it strikes me. I’m sure my family has gone through some mental and verbal challenges grappling the idea that their son, a once devoted and award-winning Christian (not kidding) is now a vocal and open non-Christian.

Dad did this once before. We were talking and he said something was beautiful just the way God made it. He paused and then said, “Or evolution made it.”

I’m not sure I told him at the time, but that felt really good.

It’s not like I want to challenge my dad — or any believer — every time I get a chance to. For the most part, everyone should continue believing or accepting what it is they want to accept. Everyone’s views are up for criticism, even mine.

But despite it all, my dad has found a way to compromise a little. To show he gave it all a lot of thought and that he’s making an effort to meet in the middle on some things. This is big news for a guy like me.

I complain about Christianity a lot. But it’s not my goal to make my family so uncomfortable that they change everything when I’m around to meet some standard I impose on them. I want them to tell me about the way their belief makes them happy. They should use the same vocabulary when I’m around as when I’m not. That would include “prayer”, “pray for me,” “bible study,” etc. etc.

I wanted to acknowledge that. And acknowledge that dad is one of the most frequent contributors to the project.

That’s gotta show for somethin’, right?

So cool.

Crap, I missed the whole part about adoption on the previous abortion post

For the record (regarding the below post about abortion), I missed the part of the Glenn Beck Newsletter about adoption. Apparently I had to scroll down. I was so caught up in the abortion link and reading that, I didn’t go back to the Glenn Beck page.

Here’s what the delBlazo said about adoption:

If anyone is encouraging you to surrender your baby to adoption, please contact us by phone or email us. Our volunteers have experienced adoption in their own lives, and they can tell you what it feels like to be adopted or surrender your own child. We’ll also help you find the support you need to keep your baby – the best thing for both of you!

Don’t let anyone tell you that adoption is the “right choice” or the “loving option” for your baby. YOU are the only mother or father your baby has, and no one will be able to take your place in his or her life. People who try to convince you to surrender your baby are probably in a position to get something out of the adoption for themselves – either money or your child himself.

Other people may tell you that you’ll be “giving a wonderful gift” to an infertile couple – this is NOT your responsibility. Your only job is to be the best mom or dad you can be for your baby. Your child isn’t going to want or accept any substitute for the real thing!

So obviously I need to re-think what I wrote.

But I can say, it was weird to hear Mitt Romney in a presidential debate bring up the “business of adoption.” I mentioned it in my review.

My parents tell me that they didn’t pay anything for my adoption. Which is great.

But this website says that it’s between $5,000 and $40,000. I have a friend raising money to adopt a Chinese baby, and it’s in the range of $28,000-$30,000, and their doing it under the tax-free protection of their church. So maybe they are saving a buck or two.

So, yeah, there may be a price involved.

One thing is for sure, delBlazo uses incendiary language every chance she gets.

I can’t fault delBlazo for trying to help mothers make the decision to keep their babies if they can.

Gosh, I know my birth mother had a hell of a time making her decision to give me up. And there are times when it was tough growing up and not having a biological connection to my family.

But holy hell, in comparison to where I would be now if I weren’t adopted, there’s no contest. I certainly had more opportunities than I ever would have. My little biological brother went through the wringer with his mom and dad (my birth mom — not birth dad).

It all comes down to this … when there are decisions that are huge, there are ambiguous answers. It’s like having relationship issues. Everybody has relationship issues, but there isn’t a person in the world you’re going to get the same advice from.

There’s no way to predict the future. My situation could have been different.

While I don’t envy my little half-brother’s life, he turned out okay. He’s got a beautiful wife, and a child. He learned from his parents mistakes. He doesn’t drink or do drugs (that I know of). He’s a good kid.

Dealing with these things is hard. And people need all the information that they can find.

So I apologize for missing the part about adoption.

Shame on delBlazo for demonizing adoption. DelBlazo needs a bit of a tongue lashing and to revisit the language she uses.

We all do.

Shame on anyone to make any decision — where people’s emotions and feelings are well on the line — harder.


George W. expands his direction and target audience

Regular reader, blogger and interim Le Café Witteveen rockstar George W. announced today that he’s opening up his blog to more topics, namely parenting.

George has, what, a zillion kids now. And surely having a zillion kids and living as an atheist has some kind of learning and teaching potential.

How many times did your parents, or some sitcom parents, say something like, “Parenting doesn’t come with an instruction manual.” Parents often take the generational memes of their parents and pass them along to their kids.

That’s most of the reason why Christian moms and pops raise their kids to become Christians. Muslims, Muslims. Hindus, Hindu.

It seems as natural as cats raising cats. Or giraffes raising giraffes.

Doesn’t it?

I know there’s some offensive syntax above that someone is going to get all Richard Dawkins on me about.

But most of us don’t have non-believing parents. And that idea of the Instruction Manual gets tougher with the absence of this huge part of lots of our upbringings.

I’ve given the idea of atheist parenting a lot of thought. And I would be proud to exchange bible verse memorization for poetry memorization. In fact, I would have bible lessons, and koran lessons. But we’d learn math, science, English, French, etc.

There wouldn’t be a limit put on what could be learned or taught.

But since my efforts for fertility have turned up dry, I like the idea of living vicariously through George.

So go get ’em, Gee Dub. We’ll all look forward to it.

In case you missed it, here’s the link for George’s blog.

A portrait of my mom

Many of you remember the portrait I took in October of my dad.

I took pictures of my family on our trip, and I’ve been too busy to even look at the ones of my mom. Dad wanted his picture ASAP, which meant my mom didn’t get her shots.

While on the phone earlier, my mom asked me about the shots. “Did I break the camera?” She asked.

“No,” I reassured her.

Later that evening, I found the shots and worked with them a little. Here is one of the shots I came up with.

Beautiful, right?

The face above is a woman who went out of her way to make sure I learned to think for myself. I don’t think she ever intended that I would take free thought as far as I did, but she promoted it all the same.

She didn’t want me thinking like everyone else just because I was told to do so. She wanted me to discover my own way, my own thoughts. And I am forever grateful for that.

My mom is a fighter. She’s a strong woman, and a role model for any person, male or female.

She’s got battle scars from a life-long battle with Diabetes Type 1. Many of the scars you could see. Many, you probably can’t. And never will.

One thing’s for sure, she’s a role model for me. I love her.

I’m glad I got a chance to shoot this shot of her.

What a beautiful woman.

Happy Happy Happy Thanks to the Giving!

Thanksgiving is a great holy day. It’s one of my favorites. It’s all about my favorite things, cooking and family.

How could I not love it.

Today, we are celebrating with Michael and Jason. It’ll be just the four of us, with Talulah and Zoe.

Michael is going to cook the turkey, stuffing, brussels sprouts, butternut squash and gravy. Tina is making a rum cake that’s a family recipe from her grandma. I’m making a heart-healthy side of sweet potatoes and a gnocchi dish with gorgonzola covered with buttery bread crumbs. It’s also heart healthy.


Did you realize that it was brussels sprouts and not brussel sprouts? I didn’t.

And did you know gnocchi was pronounced knocky not no-key? I didn’t. You can say knee-ocky or knocky.

We’ve been saying it wrong, and I’m so pissed off!

Not really.

This year, I’m thankful for Tina most of all. I’m thankful for our love that is based on things that are real. She’s more than a soulmate. She keeps me grounded. She’s more than a buttress. I stand in her shadow more than she realizes. It’s hard not to laugh and have a good time when she’s around. What an amazing woman. We’d all do well to have an ounce of her joie de vivre.

I’m thankful for Talulah and how far Zoe has come. Zoe is now able to walk right past Talulah without so much as a whisker flinch.

I’m thankful for two parents who love me dearly, despite this blog and its contents. This has been a trying year for them in many different ways, and I’m thankful that they are two great role models who are unwavering in their devotion to their beliefs and their devotion to each other. My mom’s health has been the subject of tough conversations, but I’m thankful she feels great and takes such great care of herself.

I’m thankful for my brother Jon and sister Kelly. My brother’s family. His wife is a great friend to Tina and a loyal reader of this blog, which boggles my mind, because I would run from it if I were them. And I have two gorgeous nieces who make me feel the guiltiest sometimes for not living closer — something they likely do not know.

I’m thankful for friends, both the ones I see in person and the ones I only know thanks to this blog. I have friends whom I don’t know, because many of you are lurkers. Just the other day, I learned that a friend reads this blog, because he reposted something from here on Facebook and thanked me.

This morning, Tina put her arms around my neck, she said, “I’m so thankful for you, for being in my life.” As she spoke, her eyes welled up. Then she said what I thought was, “I’m so thankful, because you’re so useful.”

“I’m ‘useful?'” I asked.

“Wonderful, silly.” And then she planted one right on my lips.

And I was thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family. I hope the Thanksgiving Fairy brings you everything you asked for when you sat on her lap last year.