Proposition 8 fails to advance any rational basis in singling out gay men and lesbians for denial of a marriage license. Indeed, the evidence shows Proposition 8 does nothing more than enshrine in the California Constitution the notion that opposite-sex couples are superior to same-sex couples. Because California has no interest in discriminating against gay men and lesbians, and because Proposition 8 prevents California from fulfilling its constitutional obligation to provide marriages on an equal basis,the court concludes that Proposition 8 is unconstitutional.
REMEDIES
Plaintiffs have demonstrated by overwhelming evidence that Proposition 8 violates theirdue process and equal protection rights and that they will continue to suffer these constitutional violations until state officials cease enforcement of Proposition 8. California is able to issue marriage licenses to same-sex couples, as it has already issued 18,000 marriage licenses to same-sex couples and has not suffered any demonstrated harm as a result, see FF 64-66; moreover, California officials have chosen not to defend Proposition 8 in these proceedings.
Because Proposition 8 is unconstitutional under both the Due Process and Equal Protection Clauses, the court orders entry of judgment permanently enjoining its enforcement; prohibiting the official defendants from applying or enforcing Proposition 8 and directing the official defendants that all persons under their control or supervision shall not apply or enforce Proposition 8. The clerk is DIRECTED to enter judgment without bond in favor of plaintiffs and plaintiff-intervenors and against defendants anddefendant-intervenors pursuant to FRCP 58.
IT IS SO ORDERED.
(Go West) Life is peaceful there
(Go West) In the open air
(Go West) Where the skies are blue
(Go West) This is what we're gonna do
So I couldn't fall asleep and so opened my laptop and found Joel Derfner's blog on the interwebz, which he has been keeping since 2002. I first read about him in the Harvard Voice's gayest issue ever, and thought, "cool, I'll get to read about the experiences he wrote about in Swish, but in real-time, so to speak." well, turns out this is the most hilarious thing I've seen all day, and it's a fascinatingly weird blog to read because I'm reading about all this casual sex done in the context of searching for love.
What? you say. Yeah, he has a great comedic voice. And a great sense of irony and his place in the world. Self-awareness. And he redacts identifying information and identifies people only by initials - I'm saying this because I started reading the most recent posts first, in which he mentions an E.S. as the boyfriend, and the first posts have an E.S. as well, but one with whom he broke up and about whom he constantly complained of being fat. Naturally, the question that follows: is this the same E.S.? I've only gotten about a year into the 7-year-old archives, so we'll see!
Well, anyway, the original point of this post was to complain about this smell in my room. It's been driving me crazy this last hour. My mom poured me some whiskey while we were watching The Lives of Others and I didn't finish it because she gave me a ton which is cool but not when I'm trying to watch a dialogue-heavy movie. so I finished it after the movie, but I carried the glass (yes, my mom gave me whiskey in a wine glass - what is wrong with my family?) up to my room and put it on the nightstand by my bed. And for all the people who have been to my house - I have my little brother's room now so the ventilation isn't as good, and this information probably plays a roll in this anecdote or maybe not, I'm just complaining here for a bit. Anyway, even though the glass the empty, I can still smell the whiskey, and it's driving me crazy. at least it isn't Jack. In that case, I may be reminded of a dashing Italian and burning popcorn and then my unfortunate night-before-Veteran's-Day.
[edit] an hour later, I'm still up and can't fall asleep, and I'm still smelling the whiskey. It's got to be in my mind at this point. In any case, I found out that E.S. is one and the same. Ha! I think my roving mind can let me sleep now. In any case, I have to be up in 7 hours, so I should get cracking on that zzzzzz.
Tomorrow is my last (and hardest) exam. then I'm free!! But in the meantime, I'm really struggling with the material. I really should have started studying earlier, but the amount I have to learn and review didn't really hit me until yesterday...
P.S. the snow has finally stopped. Everything looks so serene.
Yay Black Friday!
This is what I came home to find on the kitchen counter:
You could say my family heartily endorses recreational drinking.
I didn't plan on spending money, but did anyway. I even bought a skirt from Wal-mart, from their Miley Cyrus/Max Azria collaboration. the quality of the stuff is (surprisingly, to me) pretty good. I found the skirt that I'd been looking for. I don't discriminate when it comes to clothes!
Saw Public Enemies over the weekend. liked it. my mom and I talked about how it was a troubling movie because (SPOILER) Dillinger is betrayed by a close friend, and the net closes in on him in sharp detail.
What intrigued me just as much as the movie itself were the previews. Previews for Shutter Island, Bruno, and Amelia. An odd mixture for sure.
Shutter Island: did not expect a horror movie. Not sure if I'm interested anymore.
Bruno: definitely not interested anymore. Humpday, though, after reading about it, is sounding more and more appealing. IMDB calls it "indie couter-programming" to Bruno. sounds about right.
Today, I drive my mom's car to where I volunteer. I lock the car, file, sort, and organize for 3 hours, and then happily go back to the parking lot (via the BACK DOOR today, since I finally got the code to unlock it) to drive home. Too bad the car alarms start blaring. I quickly look around the parking lot. Didn't anyone hear this and want to come out and investigate? The alarm dies after about 60 seconds of chaos. I cautiously try again. The alarm starts up. This cycle repeats about two more times.
At this point most people probably would have given up. But I soldier on through. And finally start the car without all hell breaking loose.
My question is as follows: What the hell are car alarms for if not to tell people that THIS CAR IS BEING TAMPERED WITH, here? Everyone is so immune to them that I could have actually been breaking in, and nobody would have cared. In fact, a man came out of the office across the street, saw me trying in vain to stop this alarm, and all he did was smile at me and then drive off in his own car.
I saw Up yesterday. It made me laugh and cry, but I was still bitterly disappointed.
Carl and Ellie's story, told as it is mostly in images and without words, had me bawling. I don't even know why, as it's a fairly typical story of two people growing old together.
Dug made me laugh. The Cone of Shame, in particular, was a nice touch and its use at the very end is a nice illustration of how the circumstance can influence a person's identity.
But holy crap. The Wilderness Explorer (a Boy Scout parody) kid, Russell, was beyond annoying. It got to the point where I was groaning every time he came on screen, which was basically every minute of the last 3/4ths of the movie. His existence just reaffirmed my opinion that kids suck. Every minute on screen he was whining, pouting, or arguing. Or looking "sad." I put sad in quotation marks because that kind of "ohhhh poor me I'm a puppy don't kick me" look doesn't work well unless it's on a puppy's face (read: Dug).
The part that angered me, though, was the ageism against Carl. Oh, sure, he's 70+ and the real hero of the movie, but that doesn't stop the old-people jokes from flying fast and furious. My question: What's the point of making a character a hero if the movie just makes fun of said character the entire time?
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Today I read Someday This Pain Will Be Useful, by Peter Cameron. It's about an 18-year-old boy, James Sveck. He has gotten into Brown but is thinking about abandoning college to live in a no-name town in the Midwest and pick up a trade, all because he hates people his own age and would much rather be a loner. He is the quintessential rich white city boy. He doesn't fit in anywhere. He spends his time thinking about the past, and hates pop culture but is at the same time very aware of the culture. He's able to pinpoint a Marimekko dress that is worn backwards, and identify a Comme des garcons shirt. Those are pretty obscure high fashion brands!
The one part that stood out the most to me was when James is attending the American Classroom, one of those week-long camp things run by conservatives that supposedly give you experience in civics and government. Actually, James is telling the reader what happened during his stay with the American Classroom, which happens several months prior to the present of the book. James likes to sit alone at the tables because he is acutely aware of his own uncomfortableness with other kids and also disdains the rules that govern their (and his) lives, such as having the back of the bus reserved for the "cool kids." (Oh, how I remember that the cool kids were always in the back, and you really wanted the back seat, and how this one bus driver would reserve the back seat for the birthday kid.)
During the intermission of a dinner theater performance, another girl invites James to sit with her table. James is disgusted because he recognizes that she thinks she is doing him a favor, and is trying to be nice, but he doesn't think that it's nice at all. He would much rather be alone.
And so I find this a really strange book to put in the young adult section of a bookstore or a library, but that's where this book is classified. I suppose it's for all the loners of the world, but I can't say if this is an optimistic book or not. James finds that not even his dream of living in a beautiful old home in the Midwest can stand up to scrutiny. He ends up attending Brown, but it's not an active decision.
This worldview is so completely from all the other books and movies out there. this one says it's okay to feel like James does, although it probably won't make you happy.
When I read this book, I ended up just feeling sad. I recognized all the social awkwardness in myself, but I was also too cowardly to buck the silly rules that James disregards.
Thanks to those of you who gave me a memorable night. okay food, passable movie, great music, amazing people.
and about the movie - oh, it was better than Wolverine. But still, once special effects get so cheap to make that every summer movie contains such a huge dose of CHEESE factor that I can feel myself metaphorically gagging with the onslaught of cheese oozing from the plot holes of the movie, that is enough. I don't want to start laughing in the movie theater because some stunt was so absurd that the director saw fit to repeat it again, and again. Cars blowing up? That's cool. Cars blowing up because of some warped notion of physics and half-way believable special effects? Not cool, Terminator Salvation, not cool.
He went up under the gray leaves All gray and lost in the olive lands And laid his forehead, gray with dust, Deep in the dustiness of his hot hands. After everything this. And this was the end.
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Today a woman stopped me on the street: "Niiiice feathers."
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