Deep Thoughts

Q:  So is there a difference between working for gender equality and “fostering feminism”?

A:  This question seems to assume that feminism fosters gender equality, which is not true. “Feminism” is a peculiar ideology that has almost nothing to do with the kind of gender equality that the American people support. (Remember, the federal equal pay for equal work statute was passed in 1963 before the feminist movement started.) Feminist ideology is based on victimology, the false claim that American women are oppressed by our patriarchal society. The truth is that American women are the most fortunate class of people who ever lived on the face of the earth.

The top priorities of the feminist agenda have little to do with gender equality: abortion, same-sex marriage, affirmative action for women, sexual harassment, domestic violence, and rape awareness. Feminism insists on placing women soldiers in military combat where they can be captured by the enemy and abused as prisoners of war. Feminism is responsible for eliminating over 170 college wrestling teams because they are somehow too masculine and they don’t like the gender difference that more boys like to play competitive sports than girls. Just this fall, in a high-profile debate with Justice Scalia, ACLU President Nadine Strossen stated on October 15 that the ACLU supports a constitutional right to polygamy, a practice that is totally demeaning and harmful to women.

If feminism were about women’s achievement (which it is not), their heroines would be Margaret Thatcher and Condeleezza Rice, but the feminists are totally silent about them. — Phyllis Schlafly, responding to a series of questions posed to her in reference to her book, “The Supremacists: The Tyranny of Judges and How to Stop It” on SCOTUSblog.

Have you had your daily dose of Vitamin C today? (C for conservatism that is.)

Click here for Part 1 and here for Part 2.

I don’t know who’s more of a right-wing nutjob, Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh or Mrs. Schlafly. At least Ann Coulter is mildly entertaining.

Not that that’s saying much.

Memory

Under the ocean
I can rest
Having given into weightlessness
Its sturdiness

A different comfort.

My body rises
Above pools of foam
When the mind decides to leak
And I begin to sink.

Rain comes
Amid tides that slap
Hard in the stomach
Until I reach bottom
Twisted, bruised.

I lie down flat and long,
Make an angel with the sand.
Each grain welcomes me
As shells and seaweed
Enter me
And cling like barnacles to the unliving.

I can still see the plated chrome ceiling,
The dot of yellow light
As the sand suffocates.
I close my eyes
And sleep
The sleep of the just.

Gay Marriage Watch: Lewis et. al. v. Harris et. al.

The New Jersey Supreme Court is expected to issue an opinion later this afternoon in the matter of Lewis v. Harris (click here for the case summary on Lambda Legal’s web site, as well as a list of supporting documents and amici briefs).

This article in today’s New York Times has more information on today’s proceedings.

Should there be an affirmation of one of the most basic of civil rights, it will be a ray of light in an ever-increasingly gloomy atmosphere….so this hobbit hopes.

This post will be updated once the Court issues its ruling.  Stay tuned.

Update:  It appears that the Court has ruled partially for the plaintiffs.  Click here to view the opinion and vote tally.  Le sigh.  It’s almost predictable at this point to get something less than full equality for something that most people take for granted.

Dinner, 24 October 2006

Penne with Cauliflower and Onions, Apulian Style

Clockwise from top left: cauliflower, EVOO, Italian parsley, onions, crushed red pepper flakes, black pepper

The key to this dish is slow-cooked onions in olive oil.

From start to finish, this took about thirty minutes. You want to heat the oil gently and cook the onions, stirring constantly to prevent them from burning.

Meanwhile, bring 2 quarts of salted water to a boil. Cook cauliflower florets until tender, about 5 minutes, then transfer to a bowl. Do not drain cauliflower cooking water.

Bring cooking water to a boil, cook pasta until al dente, about 7 to 8 minutes. Add cauliflower back to pot and heat through, about 30 seconds to 1 minute. Reserve 1 cup cooking water. Drain pasta and cauliflower.

Reheat onion mixture, add pasta, cauliflower and reserved cooking water. Season with 2 T. chopped Italian parsley, a nice pinch of red pepper flakes and copious amounts of black pepper, and serve immediately. Grated P-R cheese is nice with this.

Finis.

Had this with some chicken and a glass of pinot noir.

Dinner, 23 October 2006

Zucchini Soup

Clockwise from top left: unsalted Danish butter; two zucchini, diced; two ribs celery (leaves and stalks), chopped; one onion, diced; 1 T. chopped fresh marjoram; 1 T. chopped fresh thyme; sour cream; 2 cups homemade chicken stock.

Onions sauteed in butter, roughly 4-5 minutes or until they change color.

Combine vegetables and herbs; drizzle with extra-virgin olive oil; sweat covered over medium-low heat, roughly 7 to 8 minutes or until zucchini has softened.

Add chicken stock. Canned is fine, but I prefer homemade because you have quality control.

For those of you who want to make your own chicken stock, a good resource is the eGullet Culinary Institute or eGCI. Here is the eGCI course on stockmaking and sauces.

Bring to a gentle simmer, about 3-4 minutes. Cool slightly.

Working in batches, puree in a blender and transfer to a pot. Add sour cream and light cream and bring to a simmer, stirring occasionally. Adjust seasoning.

The recipe I originally learned calls for a bechamel sauce composed of unsalted butter, 2 T. flour and 1 cup scalding milk, then combined with the stock. The sauce is used as a thickening agent. If you want to make this version, make a basic roux with the butter and flour, then add milk a little at a time, stirring constantly. Stir in broth, then combine with vegetables in a blender and proceed as above. Omit the sour cream and light cream. I prefer this version shown here, however.

Voila.

* * *

Scallops and Frisee Salad

1 pat unsalted butter, melted.

Sear scallops over medium-high heat, on both sides, roughly 2 to 3 minutes; transfer.

Half a shallot, minced and 1 T. capers, sauteed in pan drippings. Cook until shallots are golden brown; transfer.

Deglaze pan with 1/4 c. fresh squeezed orange juice. Whisk in 1 T. unsalted butter, cut into small pieces. Reduce over medium-high heat or until juice has thickened to a glaze, about 1 to 2 minutes.

Assembly: Plate frisee, scallops and shallot garnish; drizzle with orange reduction, garnish with chopped herbs and serve immediately.

This recipe makes 2 appetizer servings or 1 entree.

For those of you who want to see the pix in all their gigantic and luscious glory, click on the photo bar on the right hand side of your screen.

“Patience”, Part 7

Wherein an assassin’s patience is rewarded for ill…

A fortnight passed from his misadventure on the shipwreck, and Vermillio, or ‘Rilo, figured it was safe to attempt fishing in the Meros River again. Waiting two weeks to make sure all the soldiers were gone was long enough, wasn’t it?

He waited inside the farmhouse until he was confident his father was asleep, then cautiously got together his fishing rod, bait, and a bucket for anything he caught. He pulled on his ratty fishing pants and didn’t bother with a shirt. The fish always got it gunked up anyway, and it would give away what he was doing to his father. He wasn’t sure why his father was so stingy about him going out to fish at night. It wasn’t that much of a walk, really, as long as he steered clear of any activity going on near the plantations. For some reason, he was always mistaken for a servant when he wandered that way; was it his hair? Or lack thereof?

He crept outside slowly, easing the creaky old door closed and then breathing a sigh of relief as he went undetected. His father slept inside unaware.

“Goin’ fishing?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin, and the only reason he didn’t cry out was because he clapped his hand firmly over his mouth to silence the noise. ‘Rilo shot an accusing glare at Shae, who was crouched on a boulder beside his father’s cabbage field grinning his head off. “Stupid!” he hissed, “You could a’ made me wake my father!”

“Not my fault you squeal like a girl!” Shae teased, hopping off of the boulder and beginning to walk in the direction of the Meros. “So why didn’t you tell me you were going fishing? You know I like fishing, you shouldn’t hold out on me like that.”

“Shut up, at least until we’re well away.”

“Someone’s crabby,” Shae muttered.

“I’m not crabby,” ‘Rilo snapped back, but it was a moot statement.

They picked their way through the cabbages, heading over the hilly landscape until they could glimpse the glittering snake of a river twisting and twining its way southward. ‘Rilo slid down the steep embankment with Shae close behind. “There’s a bridge this way,” he said. “I found a bunch of scallops in there last time I went swimming.”

“Found any pearls yet?” Shae teased, and ‘Rilo felt a sudden swell of pride in his chest as he answered aloofly:

“If I did, why would I tell you?”

Shae faltered, looking surprised. “Wait… y’mean you did find some? Actual little white round things?” He held up two fingers in mimicry of a circle, gawking at his friend. “Those things are worth… like… a lot of money! You should go get money for them from a tradehouse or something, ‘Rilo. Imagine how much gold that would get you!”

“How d’you know I haven’t already done it?” ‘Rilo shot back. Inside, he was grinning. It was just about time for Shae to get a nice, big taste of his own medicine.

Shae scowled. “You traded in your pearl without letting me see it first?” He actually sounded hurt. “Yeah, well… fine.” The boy fell into a sulky silence, picking at his hair as they walked along the shoreline.

‘Rilo actually felt a little bad for deceiving his friend, but he decided to let Shae stew for a little longer before he let him know that there actually was no pearl at all. He could see the bridge coming into sight before them. The sky was a deep blue-black, swathed with purple, overhead. He couldn’t see any stars, for some reason. Was it overcast?

Shae gave a sudden gasp and latched onto his forearm with a grip like a vice. “’Rilo, look!” he hissed, pointing towards the shore across the river from them. ‘Rilo followed Shae’s finger, then had to swallow back the sudden sound of fright that welled up inside his gut. “What is it?” Shae continued, beginning to shake so that ‘Rilo started to shake as well.

“Looks like a river drake,” ‘Rilo murmured, creeping towards the water slowly and putting his fishing gear down. “A… really little one.”

“Does it have wings?” Shae asked, suddenly excited again. ‘Rilo rolled his eyes. Shae was always euphorically giddy over something, sulking, or terrified.

“I can’t tell,” ‘Rilo said. He started to wade out into the water. “I’m gonna try to get a better look.”

It wasn’t a river drake—it was an Argonian, curled up with a bit of ragged cloth pulled over his body to ward off the chill of the night. He was sleeping in a bit of concave rock, his reptilian face nestled into the crook of one arm. ‘Rilo slowed before he got too close to the shore. He didn’t want to wake the ‘river drake’ by sloshing out onto the dirty sand beside him. Instead, he slipped back into the water and paddled back over to where Shae was pacing anxiously on the shoreline. The other boy’s eyes were fixed on their new discovery with bright anticipation glowing from within. If he wasn’t so young, he might’ve been labeled as a sandmyst (1) addict.

“Well?” he asked in a whisper trembling from delight, smiling widely. “Is it? Is it a river drake? I bet it is! It is, isn’t it!”

“No!” ‘Rilo growled, exasperated, glancing over his shoulder one more time to gaze at the sleeping creature. “It’s… one of those lizard people. Y’know, like the slaves on the Falx plantation. I think he’s napping.”

Shae’s eyes became two wide, rose-tinted saucers in their sockets. “Y’think he’s a runaway slave, ‘Rilo? Think he’s an escaped slave or something? Y’think he needs help?”

“I think he needs to be left alone,” ‘Rilo said with a sage nod and a stern frown. “We don’t know anything about him. What if he’s a bandit or something?”

“He looks so cold…” An empathetic look came across Shae’s face. ‘Rilo had never seen his friend look so compassionate before. Shae walked towards the shoreline again. “Look at ‘im, ‘Rilo, just sitting there with a burlap sack for a cover. C’mon, how could he be a bandit? He’s too thin. My grandma would make a better bandit than that.”

“Well what do you suppose we do then, huh?” ‘Rilo demanded, planting his hands on his hips and beginning to tap a toe irritably. “Walk over there and give him some honeycakes or something? Take him home to live with us on the farm? You know as well as I that my father, at least, would slap a bracer on his wrist and put him to work. What would your parents do?”

“Prolly the same,” Shae mumbled glumly.

“Then let’s just leave it alone and go fishing, Shae. C’mon, there’s nothing we can do.”

“I guess, but…” Shae’s reluctance to leave was making ‘Rilo nervous. He hadn’t intended to be out fishing long, and the longer they loitered near this sleeping creature, the greater the chances that his father would wake up and realize he was gone. ‘Rilo had dealt with his father on several different occasions when his temper was foul, and if Father was angry, then his mother would be angry too. And then life would be miserable for weeks.

“Fine. You stay here. I’m going fishing.” He turned his back on Shae and started walking towards the bridge again.

He refused himself the desperate urge to look over his shoulder and see if Shae was following him. He wanted to—oh, but the gods above knew he wanted to—but he didn’t. If he looked back, Shae would know that ‘Rilo expected him to follow, and that would just fuel his reluctance to move at all. And so ‘Rilo steadfastly kept walking away, quickening his pace the closer he got to the bridge.

Then, he heard the splash.

He whirled, his heart in his throat, and watched as Shae clumsily began swimming across the Meros towards where the Argonian was sleeping. The creature stirred in his sleep at the sound of the boy entering the water, then relaxed again, much to ‘Rilo’s relief. The relief didn’t last long, however. Judging by Shae’s movements through the water, the boy had no intention of just getting a closer look at the creature—he was going to do something very, very stupid.

‘Rilo had a sneaking suspicion that despite his earlier claims, he would not be laughing.

“Shae!” he tried to call out, then checked himself; he didn’t want to accidentally rouse the Argonian from its sleep. So his voice ended up a fragile, trembling squeak in the night, and then ‘Rilo found his feet rushing back towards where his friend had entered the water of their own provocation. He tripped and stumbled a few times, but by the time Shae was reaching the shore, ‘Rilo himself was splashing into the water after him, his movements desperate. “Shae!” he hissed again, his voice taut from fear and anxiety. “What’re you doing, stupid!”

“I’m waking ‘im up!” Shae said stubbornly, shaking his hair out on the shore and kicking the moisture out of his shoes. Then, he walked towards the alcove, taking soft, squishing steps.

“Shae..” ‘Rilo almost pleaded, wishing he was a stronger swimmer. He paddled weakly to the shore and leaned against the sand, watching in dismay.

Shae had a stubbornly determined look on his face as he edged closer to the alcove, reaching one wet hand out to rest against the top of the cool stone. He bent his head low and ventured a cautious glance inside, gnawing at his lower lip so fiercely that it might’ve begun bleeding. Then, with all the gentleness he could muster, he reached out one trembling hand to touch the Argonian’s rag-covered shoulder.

The warmth of his palm needed only to hover over the creature’s reptilian hide. A brilliant, iridescent topaz eye slid open and gazed into nothingness for a moment. Then, snapping into focus like a snake’s, it zeroed in on Shae.

Shae didn’t even have time to stumble backward as the short sword at the Argonian’s hip was unsheathed, and sent plunging towards his midsection.

(to be continued)

* * *

Note:

1. A powerful narcotic usually smoked or ground into a paste, mixed with nuts and seeds and chewed. Sandmyst is rumored to have mystical properties and is prized by alchemists for the creation of potions of foresight.

Click here to view Part 1 and here to view Part 8.

Election 2008: Senator Barack Obama

Holy Jesse Jackson, Batman!

“I don’t want to be coy about this: given the responses that I’ve been getting over the last several months, I have thought about the possibility, but I have not thought about it with the seriousness and depth that I think is required,” Mr. Obama said. “My main focus right now is in ’06 and making sure that we retake the Congress. After Nov. 7, I’ll sit down and consider it.” — remarks made by Senator Barack Obama (D.-Ill.) on NBC’s “Meet the Press” this past Sunday, as reported in this article in today’s New York Times.

Will he or won’t he?

I wonder what Hillary thinks of this new development. 

Something tells me that Senator Obama is reaching for that brass ring a little too soon.  He’s 45, has just a little under two years in the Senate underneath his belt and has almost no foreign policy experience.  He’s untested in terms of national politics.  He could very well be the 2008 equivalent of John Edwards, another then-presidential political newcomer.

In short, a recipe for disaster.

Yet, one can’t help but think back to 1992 when another untried candidate from Hope, Arkansas made a bid for the presidency and won.

A Taste of Chinatown

Click here to view the full size version.

Here is the full size version of the pic above.

Full-size ad of “The Fifth Annual Taste of Chinatown“.

Click here to read the full-size review of Yeah Shanghai Deluxe.

Fried chicken feet, anyone?

Here is the full-size view of Ruth Reichl’s review of Joe’s Shanghai.

The round things in the foreground are almond cookies. The round things in the back are mooncakes.

Only a store in Chinatown could get away with a shirt like that. LOL.

Hearth Redux

Click here and here for previous dinners at Hearth.

Junipero Serra cocktail –Ketel One citron vodka, fig puree, Peychand’s bitters

Amuse: parsnip soup, cardamom

Crudo tasting

Left to right: hamachi, red pepper, rosemary; scallop, Asian pear, pepitas, pumpkin seed oil; fluke, endive; Spanish mackerel.

2005 Scheurbe Spatlese Ungsteiner Herrenberg, Pfalz

Lobster ravioli, leeks, parsnip, grated orange rind, chives

Copper River sturgeon wrapped in prosciutto, pistachio nuts, trio of sweet potatoes (regular, white, Japanese)

Organic chicken, chicken confit, Swiss chard, porcini marmalade, quail egg

2005 Shiraz, “Above the Law”, Maverick

Braised short rib, beets, bone marrow, beet jus

Pre-dessert: pumpkin seed panna cotta

Steamed chocolate cake, Earl Grey whipped cream, poached pear

Once again, a wonderful dinner at Hearth.

And to think, La Hesser rated it two stars. What was she thinking? More to the point, what was she smoking?

On Outing

Hoo boy, this is going to be a big one.

Unless you’ve been living in a cave or under a rock for the past week, you may have heard of blogger Mike Rogers‘ outing of Senator Larry Craig, Republican of Idaho.

Joe.My.God. has an extensive thread on the outing here and another post with tons of comments (some by yours truly) on the ethics of outing here.

Here is a commentary update on the story on Daily Kos. Tailrank has a newsline here.

Okay, got all that?  Good.

My position on outing:  you can “out” yourself because what you do is your personal prerogative.  Outing someone else, in particular, involuntary outing of the type first introduced by Michelangelo Signorile and now by bloggers such as Mr. Rogers is in my opinion, never acceptable.  I view it as total disregard for personal privacy.  I value privacy rights so much that given a choice between outing a public figure for the sake of the common good and the rights of the individual, that the individual wins out, because in the end, it is we, as individuals who make up society.  Philosophically speaking, the only way that a gross violation of privacy rights in this respect would be acceptable as far as I’m concerned, would be if the individual in question was party to actions that had an immediate effect of severely endangering a human life which would be, to draw a parallel akin to freedom of speech, the equivalent of shouting “Fire!” in a crowded theater.

Besides being ethically questionable, the current rage of outing is analagous to other, more infamous witch-hunts.  People who advocate outing should spend some time thinking about the lessons history teaches us in this respect.  There are serious ramifications to using sexual orientation as a weapon, not the least of which is lowering yourselves to the level of the individuals that you purport to be critical of.  The argument that outing only hypocritical gays in government office who enact anti-gay legislation as public policy is acceptable is a straw man.   Logically, it is a contradiction in terms that one can make a seemingly private choice but not have the same expectations when it comes to one’s own personal life.

Outing as a political tactic is, in my opinion, a poor choice for effecting socio-political change.   It trades in potential short-term gain as opposed to the long-term.  Positive change occurs from the ground up and over a long period of time.  We in the LGBT community who wish to see an attitudinal shift occur in society — and who doesn’t? –  need to be prepared to dig in for the long haul.  It’s taken well over a century for a social transformation with respect to attitudes towards African-Americans, and it’s still ongoing.  It’s seemingly naive and unrealistic to expect that by outing someone in elective office, that you’d experience a sea change in the populace overnight.