By Janis Ian
The Dads (surely you remember them from previous articles) are worried that their son, Jason, will grow up with no sense of tradition. It's difficult enough parenting as a gay couple, striking new ground with every step; the child needs some sense of continuity. Not wishing to inflict their own religious stereotypes on him and being more inclined to paganism (or priapism) than to regular churchgoing, they've decided to teach him the religions of the world. Christianity seems a good place to start, since many of Dad 1's forebears were Catholic priests. "Besides," they reason, "if we start early, he'll have more time to get over it later on."
By Jeff Walsh
When Elizabeth Katz was 14, she had an experience that forever changed her life. "I had an experience I don't think very many people have," she says, now 18 and a first-year student at Vassar College.
"It was some sort of voice in the back of my head," she says. "I was sitting on my bed, alone in my room and the little voice said: 'Hey, know what? You're gay.' And it was just boom, everything made sense.
By Jeff Walsh
Before I was born, Janis Ian was making beautiful music. And with her spare, acoustic recent album "Revenge," the tradition continues. Going into the interview, I was more familiar with her humorous and poignant columns in The Advocate. For some reason, although I had picked her CDs up in stores, I never bought them.
I cut myself
The blood flows loosely
No pain is felt
My troubles wash away
As the cold water
Touches the wound
You can taste my blood
Because you caused it's fall
I cut myself
With a knife sharp
As the hell you brought me to
Clearly I see
The darkness taking over me
The blood so cold, dark red
It's not over; you will see.
Other poems at: http://allpoetry.com/search/s
Testosterone, injected into a female body, causes a second puberty. Remember how fun puberty was the first time around? Not at all, right? Well, the second time around, when, for folks like me, it's the right puberty, it's actually fun, believe it or not. The acne for me, thank the gods, isn't that bad (thank you dad for your good skin!). My shoulders are broadening, my voice dropping, I'm getting hairy, it's great.
I watched the Micheal Jackson special last night. I thought I could stomach Jacko's Wacko-ness. I had two expressions during the entire thing
2)Mouth agape and screaming in horror
How that man is allowed to have children is beyond me. He has issues with children, and the scene where he was feeding "Blanket" was incredibly disturbing. Let's shake the kid uncontrollably while suffocating it with a veil like thing.
The sauna that is my room... and the job that I want.
We had the entire place to ourselves tonight, just the four of us. Though I missed seeing everyone else that we spent the week with, it was nice to just be the four of us, like some of the old times.
I feel like hiding. Cocooning. Sitting quietly at home and reading Malcolm X or finishing my college essays, or working out until I emerge superior to my former self so entirely that the person sitting here now won