Category Archives: Uncategorized

Take the Shot

Kevin Smith - God Hates Press Screenings

(WARNING: The ideas in this post have only a tenuous, free-associational connection with one another. In at least one case, the connection is downright subliminal. Trust me when I say it all makes sense in my head.)

There are days when I have no clue what to put up here. A lot of potentially good post ideas die on the altars of hesitation and indecision. In many ways, I’m still fumbling.

But when a good idea hits, I know it. I can feel the fire flow through my fingertips and spill out over the keyboard. I don’t much care who’s reading right now. Not that I’m not thankful that you folks are; your positive comments are an author’s oxygen. And not that I won’t care about stats etc. again one day. For now, it’s more important to wait for those fire-finger moments of inspiration. That way, even if no one reads what I spew, I can re-read whatever I’ve posted, nod softly to myself, and think: “That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.”

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On Sunday, Kim, my ex-wife and the mother of four of my children, is screening her short film Bunker for cast, crew, and supporters. I’m awed and humbled by this. This woman has talked about making a film for years. Never mind that even a short film like Bunker can cost up to $10,000 or more to create. Never mind the logistical battles involved in earning a living, shooting a movie, and raising four wonderful children and two stepchildren. Never mind the naysayers and critics who told her it couldn’t or shouldn’t be done, or the people and (ahem) ex-spouses who encouraged her at times to pack away her dream and “get a real job”. (Yeah. Not my finest moment.)

She made a fucking film, and she made the fuck out of it.

Like I said. Humbling.

We are all connected now like no culture or civilization before us. We live in an unparalleled age of information, education, and creativity. We are swimming in a practically infinite ocean of knowledge. We can create our own meaning in innumerable ways.

What the fuck are we doing with this privilege?

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In a lovely dollop of synchronicity, I carved out time tonight to watch Kevin Smith: Burn in Hell, a recording of one of the director’s hilarious post-film Q&A sessions. It’s available on Netflix, so go forth and consume; trust me, it’s worth the 90 minutes of your life you’ll never get back.

Towards the end, Smith goes off on a beautiful rant inspired by the sudden death of his father. Smith’s dad, according to his brother, “died screaming”, causing Kevin to wonder: what kind of death awaits us if a gentle, beautiful man like my dad is taken out in a fit of agony?

Smith’s answer: Fuck it. Live hard, and live creatively, and don’t ask so many fucking questions:

The world is full of fucking ‘why’ people. You tell people something they’ll tell you ‘why’. You throw a rock you’ll hit somebody with ‘why’ like ‘Hey man I want to make a movie’ and they be like ‘Why? Why do you think you can do that, why? Nobody else is doing it, why are you doing it? There is so much fucking ‘why’.

You go out and you find ‘why not’. You surround yourself with ‘why not’. People are just like ‘why not’. Where you are like ‘Hey man I’m gonna try something’ their like ‘Yeah, why not, let’s give it a shot’. People will try to help you do your dreams, make your dreams come true and you do the same for them. We’re all in this together. And it cost nothing to encourage a fucking artist.

Smith went on to deflate the notion that any act of creativity might be small or a waste of time:

I’m talking about artsy shit – fucking writing a blog, making a movie, making a fucking cupcake store…putting together a fucking YouTube clip….Some shit you do just to see if it can be done. Live a “why not” life, man, because we’re all gonna die fucking screaming. So make sure, when you die screaming, you die totally fulfilled. You took all the shots….Take the shot. The shot is always worth taking.

(In other news, since seeing this film, I’ve ceased to worry about the number of times I write “fuck”. Smith is the Jedi master of “fuck”. I could be throwing out one every sentence and not topple Smith’s high score. So, fuck it.)

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I recently dove back into studying Japanese, a language I’ve been attempting to master since middle school, when I asked a kindly old WWII veteran to teach me the basics of grammar. I reached intermediate proficiency a few years back, and then gave up studying because…why? I forget the reasons. They’re irrelevant anyhow.

I resurrected my studies last week, and was shocked and amazed at how much support there is out there. Web sites full of language learning podcasts. Dictionaries. iPhone apps. Streaming feeds of Japanese television. It only took me an hour to figure out how to download Japanese music and podcasts from the iTunes Japan store. With just a little effort, I had access to terabytes of cultural data.

Like I said: practically infinite information. Contra Louis CK, everything’s amazing…and I’m pretty damn happy about that.

That’s one of the shots I’m taking. Don’t ask “why”. I can’t fully articulate why I enjoy it so much, or what it will get me. If anything. It’s a passion – one of several that occupy my scant free time. This blog is another. I have one or two others kicking around. Kevin and Kim have both helped me realize how much time I’ve spent “why”-ing myself to death. Why do I become so absorbed in these esoteric projects? Why can’t I focus on one thing at a time, and be happy with that? Why? Why? WHY?

I’m putting “why” aside for a while. I could use more “why not?” in my life about now.

Kevin Smith’s right. We’ll all die screaming. Life is suffering. And when the moment comes, it doesn’t really matter what we did, or why. We’ll only care about those dark alleys we worked so hard to avoid. Who knows what will happen, or where we’ll end up, if we follow our passions? Do we need a bullshit five-year plan? Or will we have more fun rushing blindly into the dark mystery of the unknowable?

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Which shots are you taking?

The Three REAL Dangers in Letting Your Kids Play Video Games

CommandoAs a kid, I spent a lot of time and disposable income at the local pizza parlor, which had a room filled with quarter-play video games. I have cultivated years worth of self esteem out of the fact that, for a few days in the summer of 1988, I was the undisputed champion of Commando.

I’ve been told – repeatedly, and generally by people whose business it’s none of – that I expose my kids to too much media, and let them play too many video games. My past protestations notwithstanding, I’ve decided that they’re right…but for all the wrong reasons. You really want to keep your kids away from video games because otherwise:

1. They Will Bogart Your Devices

Before I had an iPhone, I had an iPod Touch 4. It was a thing of technological beauty – lightweight, and with high-definition graphics sparkling enough to make a grown man weep for joy. Had the gay rights movement succeeded in fully crushing the institution of marriage beneath its platform high heel, I might have married it. (Gays: work harder.)

Don’t make me wait until the year 3000 to marry my Kindle.

Alas, once I bought an iPhone, I sold the Touch. I figured, who the hell needs both?

Then my kids cajoled me into downloading Angry Birds. Which had two baleful consequences:

  1. I got addicted to Angry Birds; and
  2. I NEVER SAW MY IPHONE AGAIN.

2. They Will Bury Your High Scores

It’s not bad enough that my kids steal my devices: they return them along with a pile of tattered cloths representing what’s left of my ego.

The latest high score battlefield is Temple Run, a silly little free game for iOs in which you run for your life through an Indiana Jones-esque obstacle course and pick up coins, all while outpacing a pack of angry ghouls who are always a fraction of a second away from having your liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. It’s stupid, it’s repetitive, and it’s addictive as hell.

Temple Run

This is the screenshot I’m sending in with my unemployment application under “Reason for Termination”.

And I have only held the high score on the damned thing ONCE. The reigning high score champion is, naturally, my eight year old son, who never fails to hand back my own device with a big grin on his face and my previous high score smashed to oblivion. He’s quite proud that he can decimate his old man where it counts.

Stupid kids. They make me look bad.

3. They Will P0wn You on the International Stage

My son Jaxon and I play at least through rounds of Halo: Reach whenever he comes over. Our preference is an online game type called Living Dead, in which half of the players are shotgun-equipped “survivors”, and the other half are “zombies” with energy swords. Zombies have indefinite lives; survivors become zombies after their first death. In other words, it’s just like reality.

Walking Dead Zombie

“Gimme my energy sword!!”

The best games we have together are the ones in which we’re both survivors. The worst are the ones in which I start off a survivor and he starts off as a zombie. Why? Because he usually kills me in under 5.9 seconds. No matter how good I get at the goddamn game (and, admittedly, I’m only fair to middlin’), it’s never enough to keep my own son from thrashing my ass. Were I to look down at my character’s feet whenever Jaxon approaches, I’m sure I’d see him standing in a puddle of his own fear.

If this keeps up, I’m sending him to work so I can stay home and hone my Halo skills. This “having a full time job” nonsense is seriously crimping my gamer cred.

Stop! In The Name of Any Behavior That Might Be Considered Love!

Police womanYou know, some people always need to up the ante. Go vegetarian, and the asshole next to you (hi) will proclaim he’s a vegan. Go vegan, and your hippier-than-thou neighbor will go raw, and guilt you out for cooking your kale. You can’t win.

The same holds true, apparently, in the world of abstinence-only proselytization, a.k.a., sexual ignorance education. Abstinence-only? Pfffft. That’s so 1990s. Real backwards-looking troglodytes, like the ones currently ruling the great state of Tennessee, have upped the ante: it’s now illegal in the state for any teacher to address “gateway sexual behavior”. (Bill summary)

What is “gateway sexual behavior”? Like most lamentable ideas, the new law is vague on this point. And that’s just how its supporters want it. For Tennessee Democratic (uuuugh) Rep. John DeBerry, “gateway sexual behavior” is like pornography – he knows it when he feels it in his crotch:

“Everybody in this room knows what gateway sexual activity is,” said state Rep. John DeBerry, D-Memphis, in his testimony to the Tennessee House of Representatives. “Everybody knows there are certain buttons when you push them, certain switches when you turn them on, there’s no stopping, especially for undisciplined, untrained, untaught and unraised children who just want to feel affection from somebody or anybody.”

Statements like this seem more like self-confessions than statement of sociological fact. One has to wonder whether DeBerry has ever had sex in his life, or has merely read about it in old issues of Reader’s Digest. Seriously – is it just me, or does this read like the creepiest justification for date rape ever uttered by a sitting legislator? (“I couldn’t help it, your honor; she pushed that button. You know the one.” “Indeed I do, son. Case dismissed!”)

But that’s not the best part. Some insist the definition is crystal clear:

Family Action Council President David Fowler, who drafted helped draft [sic] the bill, told the website PolitiFact.comthat the definition of “gateway sexual activity” is akin to the definition of “sexual contact” according to the state’s criminal law, which refers to the “intentional touching” of “the primary genital area, groin, inner thigh, buttock or breast of a human being.”

That’s right: we’re outlawing discussion of consensual sexual activity by reference to criminal statute. What kind of message is that sending to kids?

At any rate, while this may be what Fowler means by the term, the bill itself (PDF) is intentionally vague in its definition, classifying “gateway” behavior as “sexual contact encouraging an individual to engage in a non-abstinent behavior”; later, the bill forbids any “gateway sexual activity or health message that encourages students to experiment with non-coital sexual activity.” Which can include everything from cunnilingus to hair-stroking.

Tennessee, I’m so sorry. I believe you have the legislatures you voted for, but would never be so cruel as to say you’ve gotten the legislatures you deserve.

 

Felonious Monks, and the Bullshit in Buddhism

Buddhists gamblingLast month, Dan Savage found himself in the middle of a media shitstorm (what else is new?) when he referred to parts of the Bible as “bullshit”, and referred to the students who walked out of his talk over this “insult” as “pansies”. Savage later apologized for the latter comment, but doubled-down on the former, arguing that all religions have irrational or outdated dogmas that ought to be questioned, and, when warranted, abandoned.

But they are wrong when they claim that I “attacked Christianity.” There are untrue things in the Bible—and the Koran and the Book of Mormon and every other “sacred” text—and you don’t have to take my word for it: just look at all the biblical “shoulds,” “shall nots,” and “abominations” that religious conservatives already choose to ignore. They know that not everything in the Bible is true.

Dam straight. That should should apply to all faiths. In this regard, I’ve always admired the ruthlessness of science. Most scientists aren’t afraid to throw out ideas that are no longer productive. Likewise, theologians and spiritual practitioners should feel free to discard the bullshit that’s been handed down to them across the centuries. The more dross we eliminate from our spiritual lives, the closer we come to practicing the essence of our faiths. What matters most is living a life of love and compassion.

I thought of all this yesterday when I ran across this story of six Korean Buddhist monks who were filmed gambling and smoking their asses off after a memorial service for one of their fallen fellows.

And so close to Vesak, no less. The scandal!

Of course, an interesting question is: Who recording this in the first place? Speculation is that the culprit was a rival monk who saw a way to push a few of his political competitors out the temple door. Ironically, the gambling monks got the boot, while the power-hungry monks get to stay. Who would you rather have as your spiritual counselor: a monk who knows how to let loose? Or a monk who uses Machiavellian machinations to secure more power for himself and his confederates?

Personally, I’m inclined to invite these six guys to gamble and smoke at my funeral. (And guys, if you could spare a few chants of the Heart Sutra? Much appreciated.)

Yes, yes – they violated their monastic vows, betrayed the trust of their countrymen, yada yada. Shame on them. But the rules they follow are bullshit anyway – a holdover practice from a less complicated time when we believed spiritual realization could be distilled down into a set of rules. For me, this is part of the bullshit of Buddhism.

Maybe there was a time and a place when our best spiritual seekers had to disengage from the violence and greed that surrounded them, and live their lives according to a rigid collection of commandments and prohibitions. That time has passed. I prefer my spiritual teachers flexible, engaged, involved…and, yes, a little bit flawed.

Am I Dad Enough? Hell Yes!

Jamie Grumet Time CoverI’m an attachment parenting dad. I carried all of my kids around in baby slings. My kids’ mom breastfed late. All of them spent nights in our beds until the ages of three or even four. And you know what? I’m glad we did it. To this day, my kids and I are extremely close, and I give attachment parenting at least partial credit.

But I’m not dwelling under any delusions that other dads somehow are lesser entities, or love their kids any less because they coaxed their little buggers to stay in their own beds so they could resume having hot monkey sex with their spouses. There are days that parenting is an absolute joy. Then there are the days – often more numerous – when you’re locking yourself in the bathroom for a few minutes of peace, and counting down the seconds until you can slam your head into a pillow. We parents do what we need to do to make it to day’s end with our kids (and our sense of selves) intact. Nearly every attachment parent I’ve met takes the same attitude. We’re not judging other parents; we’re doing what we need to do to keep from going apeshit at the slightest provocation.

Of course, leave it to a major media publication to elevate attachment parenting into a “mommy war”. Moms across the nation had their commitment to their kids universally questioned this week by a provocative cover on Time “magazine”. (From what I understand, a “magazine” is like a blog printed on trees. Weird, right?) The cover asks, “Are you MOM ENOUGH?”, and shows attachment parenting mom Jamie Grumet breastfeeding her four-year-old son, all while looking into the camera with this kick-ass Sara Connor-esque “Just try and STOP me, motherfucker” look on her face.

It’s a great picture. And it’s a terrible title.

Moms are, understandably, pissed off at Time over the salacious title, and are going all medieval on the magazine’s ass. Blogger Jen Singer asked a good question: why does mainstream media never ask if dads are “dad enough”?

Well, they do – but with a twist. Remember the Huggies “Dad Test”, where Huggies “challenged” dads to change their kids’ diapers for five days? Oh NO! The HORROR!! Five DAYS of diaper changing! It’s like Hell, but with poop instead of fire!

As Jen observes, when you’re a dad, the bar is much lower. If you remember to send your kid out into sub-zero temperatures with a coat, you’re in line for Father of the Year. Mainstream media questions mom’s commitment; it questions dad’s competency. Note that it didn’t even occur to Time to take aim at dads on its cover. Attachment parenting is a “mom issue”. We don’t rate. Time’s just thankful if we dudes show up once a week to empty the diaper pail.

So, message to Time: knock that shit off. Leave moms alone. And message to media in general: parenting issues concern BOTH parents – whether that’s mom and dad, both dads, or both moms.

(And, yes: I changed diapers. Constantly. And they were cloth. Up yours, Huggies.

A Short-Term Victory for The Pain Profiteers

Rush Limbaugh - War on Marriage

North Carolina pisses me off. But it has little to do with the people who live there.

As everyone who hasn’t been living in a cave without Internet service knows by now, the people of North Carolina have passed Amendment One, which heroically saves “traditional” marriage between a man and a woman from…well, from nothing. No one’s heterosexual marriage is any more safe or sacred today than it was a few days back. The only difference is that now only straight people alone are allowed to experience the pleasures and pitfalls of matrimony. (And don’t give me some load about how GLBT people are still free to marry people of the opposite gender. That’s like telling a deaf man he can listen to all the Chopin his heart desires.) GLBT people in North Carolina are forbidden the legal security for their relationships that straights take for granted.

If you’re not pissed off by that, you might have a heart the size of the Grinch’s.

Consequences of Gay Marriage

I’m not mad at the people of North Carolina. I’m sure the state is home to many outright bigots, but so is every other state in the union. And it’s not like the proponents of Amendment One made clarity a top priority:

The Public Policy Polling survey found widespread voter confusion about what North Carolina’s Amendment 1 seeks to accomplish. Just 36 percent of voters answered correctly that it bans both same-sex marriage and domestic partnerships. An additional 26 percent thought it banned same-sex marriage alone. Meanwhile, 10 percent of voters thought a “yes” vote on the amendment would legalize rather than ban same-sex marriage, and 27 percent weren’t sure what it did.

I have every confidence that ordinary people will eventually come around to the idea that marriage equality is the only compassionate path forward. Many people already have, and in an historically short span of time.

No, the people who earn my ire today are largely the professional loudmouths. The people whose careers rest, in part or in full, on denigrating their fellow human beings. The true hate-mongers – the Rush Limbaughs, Bill Donahues, Bryan Fischers, Newt Gingriches, and Maggie Gallaghers. The people who work full time and bend over backwards to justify a few scant lines plucked selectively from the Bible.

Congratulations to all of you. You have “won” a short-term victory on the backs of your gay and lesbian brethren. You must be proud. Should I ever have some puppies that need beating, I’ll give y’all a ring.

Wil Wheaton: This is Bullshit

Despite the passage of Amendment One, I’m hopeful. Who wouldn’t be? I take solace in the fact that the tide is turning so quickly that the temporary victory in NC had to be secured through demagoguery and discord. I’m heartened that President Obama has become the first President in the US to embrace marriage equality as a goal, which puts the Democratic Party on track to make equality a part of its national platform. Hell, even a Republican who pushed for the passage of Amendment One is sure it’ll be repealed within a generation.

The fight continues. In WA state, marriage equality opponents are gearing up to place an initiative on the November ballot that would roll back the state’s marriage equality law. They are, no doubt, heartened by their “victory” in NC.

Let’s not award them reason to celebrate a second time.

Le Blog, C’est Moi

L'etat, C'est MoiOkay, folks, first order of business. (And yes, this is relevant to the rest of the post, so pay attention.) My Pretend Online Acquaintance Tracey (a.k.a. Sweetney) has started a new project called Through the Fire, in which she is inviting people around the Internet (that’s YOU!!) to contribute their stories of divorce and separation. All filings are anonymous; not even Tracey will know who you are. So go and submit your tale. Be raw. Be honest. Be free.

As she says on her blog, part of Tracey’s motivation for beginning this series is that she’s done talking about her own divorce. I get that. She’s processed it, and it’s time to move on.

I know where she’s coming from. I’ve run into a similar situation as I fumble about trying to find my voice on this blog. For a while, I was blogging rather personally and painfully about my breakup. For a while, it was all I could talk about. Talking about anything else felt dishonest. I couldn’t blab on about spirituality or social justice or what have you when it felt like my soul had shattered into a thousand pieces, and I was slowly gluing it back together.

But glue I did. I settled down into my new place, started a new job, and made several new friends. If I haven’t completely healed, I’ve at least won out-patient status.

Which left me wondering what the hell to write about in this space. Is this a “personal” blog? A “spiritual” blog? A geek blog? A “kids do the damnedest things” dad blog? A platform for promoting marriage equality, ethical treatment of animals, and social justice? A collection of weird short stories written in less than 24 hours?

I finally decided: fuck it. It’s all those things. Because it’s my blog. It’s happy when I’m happy, sad when I’m sad, angry when I’m angry, strident when I’m strident. Much like Google is an extension of my brain, my blog is an extension of my soul. I think that’s the best form of “personal blogging”: not a 365-day exercise in self-flagellation, but a reflection of the depth and complexity (such as it is) of a single individual. And yes, that includes the occasional “everything is going to shit and where’s the fucking ice cream” post.

So, I’ll keep writing this odd mishmash of whatever happens to be clouding my mind at the moment. Whether anyone keeps reading…well, that’s up to all y’all. (All 3.7 of you.) If you keep reading, be apprised that my ramblings will continue to evince about as much direction as a drunk hamster locked in a dark labyrinth.

I think I kinda like it that way.

Boy Scouts Forces Parents to Discuss Sexuality with Their Kids

Jennifer Tyrell and FamilyJennifer Tyrrell didn’t ask to be a Tiger Cub Scout den leader. Other parents in the troop asked her to step up to fill the role. None of the parents had a problem with the fact that Jennifer was a lesbian. Several of them didn’t even know, so it obviously wasn’t a fact that she paraded about or shoved in anybody’s face. By all accounts, most parents were happy to have her as den leader.

Everyone, that is, except the national Boy Scouts of America, which removed Tyrrell from her post the instant it found out she was gay. According to Tyrrell, who has started a petition on Change.org, her removal came about shortly after the local pack made her treasurer, and she uncovered irregularities in the group’s finances.

Jennifer was told by the Scouts that she did “not meet the high standards of membership that the BSA seeks.” No word yet on whether the people who were cooking the pack’s books are going to get the boot. Apparently, being gay is a mark of moral shame, but financial shenanigans are part of the grand tradition of Scouting. Funny…I was a Cub Scout, and don’t remember there being merit badges for Embezzlement and Bigotry.

When CNN commentator LZ Granderson asked a BSA spokesperson to do some ‘splainin’, PR director Deron Smith responded with this odious chunk of claptrap:

“Our focus is on delivering the nation’s foremost youth program of character development and values-based leadership training. Our mission does not include teaching young people about sex or sexual orientation, and we do not believe it is Scouting’s role to introduce this topic in our youth development program.”

This is a common refrain amongst homophobes and bigots: “We’re just protecting the fragile little children!” Which is bullshit. The children were just fine until BSA insisted on making Jennifer Tyrrell’s sexuality an issue. All you need to do is scroll down another few paragraphs in the story to realize what’s wrong with Deron Smith’s statement (emphases added):

“I’m not a city person,” said Robert Dunn. “I’m just a backwoods hick, and I don’t think anybody around here have an issue with homosexuals. She did a wonderful job, and what they did to her was just horrible.

When I told my son Jen was kicked out because she is gay, he didn’t know what was wrong because he thought gay meant happy. He’s just devastated.”

Don Thomas, who has a grandson in Pack 109, e-mailed me, saying either he or his wife has been to “every cub scout meeting my grandson has attended, also to every function, community event, Salvation Army ringing bells, collection of food for the needy….etc. I do not know where you are getting your information, but never ever has sex been brought up, not in any way shape or form. In fact, I was not aware of Jen even being gay for quite some time…..wasn’t an issue or concern.”

My favorite response came from Crystal Sabinsky, who said, “the boys knew her as Tiger Leader Jen, not Gay Tiger Leader Jen. They are only first graders. Most don’t even understand what ‘gay’ or ‘lesbian’ mean.

In other words, no one in the troop was talking about sex, sexuality, or homosexuality until the Boy Scouts booted Jennifer Tyrell. It was the Boy Scouts who injected sexuality into the conversation, practically forcing parents to talk about it when their kids asked them why “Tiger Leader Jen” wouldn’t be leading their meetings any longer.

BSA doesn’t give a damn about “protecting” children from anything. Its goal is clear: to stigmatize and discriminate against gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered people in the name of “morality”. Sorry, BSA, but there’s nothing moral about removing a woman who, by all accounts, is a true moral leader, solely because of her sexual orientation.

On a more positive note: How great is it that these parents couldn’t have cared less that Jennifer is gay? This is the face of the future, folks: open-armed tolerance and acceptance. The Boy Scouts are so far behind the times, they may as well be wearing togas and sending out press releases through smoke signals.

If you agree with Jennifer Tyrrell that Boy Scouts of America should end its discrimination against the LGBT community, sign her Change.org petition.

The Bullshit “Vegan Parenting” Controversy, And Why It’s Bullshit. Also? Bullshit.

Vegan is Love by Ruby RothI’m a vegan. I’m also a dad. My kids aren’t vegan, and it’s something I haven’t foisted upon them. There are a couple reasons for that. One is that their mom isn’t vegan (though she is increasingly vegetarian), and  we try and keep our parenting consistent across households. Another is that I’ve come to veganism fairly late in life, and think it’d be a dick move to switch the rules on my kids in the middle of the game.

So, I don’t push it. I share my beliefs with my kids (only when they ask), but don’t guilt them out for eating meat. When my kids come over to my house, I try and cook them some tasty vegetarian meals. I do serve them meat as well, though I’m trying to do that less. My only line in the sand is that I won’t prepare anything that requires me to handle meat directly. It’s a somewhat arbitrary line, but it’s mine, and I’ve drawn it in pretty pink chalk.

On the other hand, I have no problem with parents of younger children (or socially conscious teens) who believe in raising them veg or vegan. In fact, I respect and admire these parents’ decision to raise their kids in an awareness of how our actions impact the other living creatures with whom we share our planet.

So I had a minor conniption when people went apeshit last week over Ruby Roth’s new children’s book, Vegan is Love, in which Roth explains the vegan lifestyle to kids. Roth found just the right combination of issues to make the Internet go nucking futs. People already get testy whenever you bring up vegetarianism and veganism. They assume (sometimes correctly, but often not) that you’re comparing them to Hitler because you think chicken’s tasty. Add children into the mix, and…hoo boy. A perfect shitstorm. It’s like saying that not only do you think they’re Hitler, but you have proof they pulled guard duty at Auschwitz.

The woman who’s been most often cited in this controversy on the meat-lover’s side is Nina Planck, a former vegan who’s been on an anti-vegan jihad since the 2000s. Despite the fact that she’s neither a nutritionist nor a medical professional, multiple outlets have quoted Planck’s opinions about the supposed dietary deficiencies of eating vegan. The New York Times even gave Planck a forum to rail against vegan eating for kids, a choice which she claims carries “definite and scary” risks.

I haven’t talked much about veganism on this site. It’s not because I’m not passionate about sparing animals form slaughter, or timid about my beliefs. It’s more that I’ve been fumbling for a way to advocate for greater compassion and less cruelty towards other living creatures without coming off as a moralizing asshat. My own journey to veganism has been long, slow, and riddled with lapses. I’m the last person to judge anyone for eating meat. I’ve eaten it for most of my 38 years on the planet! And, seriously – who enjoys being lectured about their nutritional choices?

But the tsunami of misinformation and moralizing that’s hammered Roth is too much for me to keep quiet. I’ve found four consistent trends to people’s reactions. All of them are either overwrought or, more often than not, simply bullshit.

(And I say “bullshit” with deep metta and compassion. No, really. Stop giggling, please.)

1. “Vegan diets are unhealthful and lacking in nutrients, and they make the baby Jesus weep softly!”

Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. You’d have thought this one would be put to bed by now. As the Daily Mail points out in their roundup of the controversy, the American Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics (a.k.a. the America Dietetic Association), based upon scads of research, has endorsed the healthful nature of vegan diets for the majority of people walking the planet.

It is the position of the American Dietetic Association that appropriately planned vegetarian diets, including total vegetarian or vegan diets, are healthful, nutritionally adequate, and may provide health benefits in the prevention and treatment of certain diseases. Well-planned vegetarian diets are appropriate for individuals during all stages of the life cycle, including pregnancy, lactation, infancy, childhood, and adolescence, and for athletes.

Yep, you heard that right: athletes. If even triathletes and bodybuilders can thrive on a vegan diet, something tells me kids will do just fine.

In her piece in the New York Times, Planck contended that vegans lack “complete” versions of many crucial vitamins and minerals. Bullshit, says vegetarian dietitian Virginia Messina:

So, where does Planck get it wrong? “[Planck] insists that certain nutrients like vitamins A and D,omega-3 fats and carnitine are available only from animal foods,” says Messina, “That’s not true for any of these nutrients. We humans easily convert beta-carotene in plant foods to vitamin A. As little as one-quarter cup of carrot juice or a half-cup of sweet potatoes provides a day’s worth of this nutrient. Meat eaters have no advantage regarding vitamin D either. Because there is so little naturally occurring vitamin D in foods, nearly all Americans — vegans and omnivores alike — get it from supplements, fortified foods or sun exposure.”

(FWIW, Messina is more cultured than I, and doesn’t actually say “bullshit”. But I’d like to believe she at least muttered it under her breath.)

A whole foods, plant-based vegetarian or vegan diet is loaded with nutrients, minerals, antioxidants, and phytochemicals. The only “complete” nutrient vegetarians and vegans might lack in their diets is B12. Even this is controversial; even most vegans who don’t supplement B12 don’t seem to suffer from this so-called “deficiency”. If you do need B12, it’s easy enough to get. Most soy milks, such as Silk, are loaded with it.

2. “I ate vegan for three months and I almost DIED!!”

Ah, yes. Eating by Anecdote. A number of people – Ms. Planck among them – claim that they felt horrid when they dropped meat from their diets.

And you know what? I believe them. I’m very sympathetic to this point. What we currently know about nutrition is dwarfed by what we don’t know. If you try a vegetarian and vegan diet and feel like shit warmed over in the dry desert, you have a few options, all of which I consider credible:

(1) Talk to your doctor, who might help you pinpoint the problem. Lack of nutrients? Not enough calories?

(2) Talk to a registered dietitian, particularly one who specializes in vegetarian or vegan diets.

(3) Go back to eating meat until you can accomplish either (1) or (2).

Individual variances aside, doctors and dietitians who make recommendations to the population at large should base their advice on scientifically sound research conducted on large sample populations. And to date, the research is clear: vegetarian and vegan diets are not only healthy, but often more healthy than animal-centric diets. Most people do not need to eat Bessie and Bambi to feel good and maintain a healthy weight.

3. “Growing kids need dead animals!”

Both the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics and the American Association of Pediatrics disagree with you.

The Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics and American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) agree: Well-planned vegetarian and vegan eating patterns are healthy for infants and toddlers.

Time and attention are necessary to make certain young children, vegetarian or not, get all the nutrients they need for normal growth and development.

Science RULES!

4. “Let your kid choose her OWN diet, you selfish prick!”

This was yet another lovely broadside from Nina Planck, who was quoted at length in this LA Times story:

You may choose to be a vegan. Your baby doesn’t have that luxury. Let her grow up omnivorous and healthy. Then watch her exercise her own freedom of choice with justifiable pride.

“Omnivorous and healthy” is, as we have seen, horseshit. And this statement is disingenuous anyhow, given then Planck doesn’t even think veganism is healthy for adults.

But Planck is also intimating that vegans are “forcing” their choices on their kids. But you’re forcing a choice on your kids either way! That’s what parenting is. As a parent, you do what you feel is both healthful and morally right for your children. And vegan parents believe – with some evidence – that the best thing they can do for both their children and for life on planet Earth is to raise them to avoid dining on animals.

I’m not saying you’re going to burn in hell if you feed your kids meat, folks. What I am saying is that Planck’s omnivore lifestyle shouldn’t be some sort of moral default. Vegan parents shouldn’t be stigmatized as bad parents for raising their kids in the vegan lifestyle. That Planck and others are doing their level best to foster that stigma is…

Well, you get my gist.

Was that not enough boring data for you? Not to worry – I have more! Check out The China Study, a landmark book whose reams of data document how a plant-based, animal-free diet can combat and even reverse many modern American ailments, including heart disease and diabetes. (The China Study is the basis for the dry yet highly educating film Forks Over Knives.) For even more statistics from a vegan-centric perspective, check out Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine.

The Flaming Paper Towel Semaphore

Burning Down the HouseA handy list of things that make you feel like you’re truly moved in:

Almost Burning Your Place Down

One of the things I love about being in my own place again is having my own kitchen. I cook most of my meals, so having a great stove is as vital to my existence as oxygen and porn. Keeping my stove top clean is like a second religion; outside of a new Rob Schneider movie, there’s nothing I find more disgusting than a dirty range.

You know what’s not a good idea, though? Stove multitasking. As in, cleaning your stove while you still have a burner on. As in, cleaning your stove with a paper towel while you have a burner on.

Turns out that water isn’t the only thing Bounty absorbs – IT ABSORBS FIRE, TOO. About half of the towel had burned away before my tired brain was like, “Hey, dude…there’s flame creeping towards your hand. Might wanna do something about that.”

Fortunately, no alarms were triggered, and no fire trucks were called. I put out the flame, lit a scented candle to cover the reek, and celebrated the near-miss with a good book and an appropriate Bonnie Raitt cover.

Then I fell asleep and had a dream in which the Chinese Embassy in Seattle burned down to the ground. Hey, I was rattled.

Having a Kick-Ass Spice Cabinet

At the end of my last relationship, I left without one of the things most dear to my heart: my spice rack. Like cleaning supplies, spices are one of those hidden expenses you don’t consider when you have to re-establish yourself. Then you go to cook, realize that all you have in the way of seasonings is a three-year-old box of Kosher salt, and head out to the store to drop $100 on everything from allspice to turmeric.

After two weeks, I can finally saw I’m almost Spice-Complete. Allspice. Cinnamon sticks. Curry powder. Enough cumin to cook a fiesta for our troops in Afghanistan. Hell, I even have garam masala and habanero garlic pepper.

Do you have habanero garlic pepper? Yeah. That’s what I thought. (But never fear: if you’re in Seattle, World Spice Market can hook you up.)

Being Occupied by Your Kids

My kids had been over before last week one by one, but Wednesday was the first time I’d had them all here together since moving in. What amazed me was how quickly they made this feel like The New Normal. There was no fuss or wonder; they simply familiarized themselves with where all the snacks were and settled in for the next four days.

“I really like your place, dad,” Luka told me midway through the week.

I kissed him on the top of his head and ruffled his blonde mop-top. “Me too, bud. And I really like my place with you in it.”

The little sneak then proceeded throughout the rest of the day to wipe out our stock of Capri Sun when I wasn’t looking.

There’s no place like home.