Jason Hungerford, 20, of Manassas, VA

By Paul Pellerito
Oasis Staff Writer

The Internet has done a lot for 20-year old Jason Hungerford, but what he is doing for it may be even more important.

Hungerford is no stranger to the power of being online. Like many queer youth today, he had his first tastes of coming out on the Internet, and it helped him come to terms with who he is.

Jacob Eiler, 18, of Anderson, Indiana

By Jeff Walsh

School is slowly becoming a better place for queer and questioning youth. With the $900,000 settlement against a public school for not protecting Jamie Nabozny as a harassed gay student, teachers will now most likely be a little more supportive. And last year, many same-sex couples even attended their proms without incident.

He's Out!

Former Umpire Talks About Gay Life in Baseball and Beyond

By Christopher Ott

One Saturday in 1970, 18-year-old Dave Pallone sat watching a baseball game on TV. A shoulder injury had put a premature end to his dream of being a pitcher, but Boston Red Sox announcer Curt Gowdy asked a question that caught his attention: "How would you like to be an umpire?" Gowdy was talking about the Umpire Development Program in Florida, and after Dave Pallone called to find out more about it, he suddenly knew what he wanted to do.

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Latest journal entries.

anarchist's picture

I'm a hippy

New age music has been greatly inspiring me. I've been playing ultra chill new age guitar, hooked up to Ableton and ran through delay, reverb, resonation, etc. and it's really changed my perspective on everything, and made me much more relaxed. I highly recommend getting into this music or playing it.

Thank you, Devin Townsend, for making the album Ghost. Also, does anyone here know any music similar to this?

brettselle's picture

Perfectly Imperfect

Daddy was a very smart man with horrible decision making skills. My melancholy and not so fortunate story starts with a man who brought me into this world seven years before he decided it was time to say goodbye to the air that travelled through his damaged lungs. My father was a foster home, lost cause, individual set between metal bars. An alcoholic. And addict. Whatever the twisted, mangled, frayed, and shattered label may have been, to me he was my father. Daddy heard the voices; he starred down the un-seeable with this quickly fading sanity. ..

poetic_star's picture

angelfire

I think I swallowed your name that night in the bar.
I think you infected my veins while the music was
raging some 90s rock song and nobody was
paying attention to us as we ran to the back
room of this exile for tar-winged children.

And boy, now you're starving for some
sort of distraction in button-down lust;
a porn star type in DKNY jeans.
But I'm not one of those underground souls,
looking to lose consciousness
in pretty lashes and money-grabbing directors.
Honey, you can take a cab home because
I'm only here for the bottled-up affection
you said would never be mine

Super Duck's picture

Thanks for the memories, even though they weren't so great.

I definitely wish I had ended my speech with that, haha.

So, I graduated! Everything went surprisingly well. (The hat and I were absolutely not friends, though. It messed up my hair so much.) Giving the salutatory speech was beyond nervewracking, though. When I got onstage and looked out into the audience, for some reason, I thought this girl in the very back was FCG, so it freaked me out big time. I later discovered that the girl was not, in fact, FCG, but I couldn't tell that from the stage. (It was possible that she could've been there. She's apparently still friends with IG.) Despite my nerves, I actually gave the speech with minimal problems. I messed up once because I started reading the wrong line, but it was only a little mistake, so it wasn't that big a deal. And I didn't trip going up the steps or walking across the stage!

A lot of the other girls cried, but I didn't. I'm so glad to get out of there. I can't even begin to put the feeling into words.

MaddieJoy's picture

light at the end of the tunnel

We've had another spat over high school. I want to take Italian and move back to Italy to home school, and spend my days wandering those deliciously silent streets of Venice. But Mom purses her lips and says that she won't "narrow my horizons" like that, that I'll get a better degree if I stay here. She says I have to see the "light at the end of the tunnel." I can see a light alright, but I might have to walk into it before the four years are up. She keeps talking about rights of passage and persevering. I just don't know if I can survive this.

poetic_star's picture

Matthew in the Sky

*I've been reading Judy Shepard's book "The Meaning of Matthew" about her son who was murdered in 1998. I wanted to write a poem about who Matthew was as a person, not just the headline story. The title was taken from Lady Gaga's cover of "Imagine" by John Lennon.*

The state melted into a pool
of cerulean in your eyes,
Wyoming tinted your hair
a cowboy prairie blond and
stained your boyish lips
with a wanderlust grin.
Matthew, you've grown
older by now but some
things never change like how
the Curious Unknown
still sparkles in your dreams,
the sticker lights of Laramie.

anarchist's picture

Can somebody please tell me what the fuck is going on?

A few days ago I went with my father to pick up some speakers he had bought, and I fell asleep in the car on the way home. When I went to get out the door I saw a crane fly right next to where my face was, at most a couple of inches away. The next day I was walking my dog and the same crane fly flew right in front of me. The day after that (yesterday) it was in my room, flying around me. And just now it was outside my window, trying to get in my room. What the fuck is this?


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