Sigh

A cranky old priest I once knew used to say that one of the unanswered mysteries was how there could be more horses' asses in the world than there are horses.

I was reading the SF Chronicle during breakfast this morning. Not my usual habit, but The Boyo is an avid and devoted Chronicle reader. When he is away, somehow it makes me feel as if I am doing something with him and for him to read it. Buying a copy helps the Chron stay in business, something that the print press has a hard time doing these days. He would miss it terribly were it to fold, so I do my little bit. Silly, huh?

Anyway, I find several letters to the editor. Unfortunately, I read them. The Chron specializes in pithy here. Both were responses to the decision by the voters of Maine to refuse marriage to same sex couples. One fella pronounced that this made America "a failed society." America. A failed society. And another writer stamped his adolescent literary feet and wondered why straight people got to vote on his relationship when he was not consulted about theirs. How dare the world exist before he was consulted...

This kind of childish, uber-narcissistic, catastrophizing histrionic foot-stamping...well, it provokes the question of the cranky old priest. So many horses' asses.

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