CAMPOut: August is for Loonies

When CNN broke word of the Pentagon’s plan to set up a futures market for Terrorism I couldn’t believe my ears. From what I understand, they thought it was a good idea to have the world bet on whether Arafat would be assassinated, or if an Al Qaida strike was imminent. The brass figured if they tuned into CNBC one day and saw pork bellies, wheat futures and the odds of dirty bombs exploding in Pittsburgh shoot up they’d know where to send the CIA. Who was going to run this government gambling game, Bill Bennett?

Gee, that’s the only possible explanation for this twisted idea. Having the Pentagon go into terrorism futures would get Gamblin’ Bill back to feeding from the public trough.

The amusing thing was that it took only 12 hours of media and citizen outrage to get the whole thing scrapped. While that seems to indicate that America knew a terrible idea when they heard one, the disturbing news was that Congress had known about the Pentagon’s plan to play Wheel of Fortune with your tax dollars for weeks. Please tell me that Senators Biden and Carper missed that meeting.

Equally weird but much more amusing is the new TV show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. While I haven’t had the chance to see it yet, I hear it’s charming, if a little (a lot) enforcing of moldy old gay stereotypes. A team of gay fashionistas, designers, and personal care experts makes over a schlubby straight guy. In fact, I just heard that Jay Leno will be featured as an upcoming heterosexual fashion violation.

If the producers wanted just as much entertainment value, but with increased social responsibility, they could have Queer Hike with a Lipstick Dyke, where a team of sporty girls teach a feminine lesbian to use a miter saw. Or Queer Eye for the Butch Gay Guy, teaching a Levi & Leather man how to wax his brows.

And speaking of waxed brows (his), who’s surprised by the revelation that poor Liza and David have split up? Frankly, I never thought it was a good idea to have those two wedding totems Liz Taylor and Michael Jackson in the marriage ceremony in the first place.

The tabloids screamed "Divorce for Liza!" Followed by the question "Is another man involved?" I immediately asked myself "for which spouse?" Conceivably there could be two extramarital men involved. But I do feel sorry for Liza. Her inherited downward spiral makes me sad.

And did you hear—Ben Affleck seduces and "cures" another lesbian! In his new film Gigli, which does not, as it sounds, describe J Lo’s butt, he has the right stuff to turn J Lo from lesbo to bimbo.

In case you repressed it, Ben previously starred in Chasing Amy, one of the most relentlessly insulting films of all time, where he made the same unrealistic movie magic.

Now, five years later, comes Gigli, same insulting plot, identical actor. The good news is that the film has gotten the worst reviews since that last thing with Madonna in it. But hey, gals, if you go to LA, keep your women away from Ben; apparently there’s something about him that screws with your chromosomes.

Next on the loony parade is the state of California and its effort to recall the governor. It’s bad enough for democracy’s reputation that the opposition is determined to undo a legal election (deja Florida), but the growing list of gubernatorial contenders reads like a pitch for a new reality tv show.

The roster includes a semi-homeless man who lives at a highway rest stop, an 18-year old whose parents won’t pay the ballot filing fee, and a woman whose web site sells official campaign thongs.

But my personal favorite is the retired cop whose platform includes his pet issue—making the domestic ferret legal in California. At this point, the news out of California is that 123 people could wind up on the ballot. And none of them are the Terminator. Ahhhnold’s candidacy now seems positively sensible to me, and that’s weird right there.

Going from the ridiculous to the divine, did you hear about Pat Robertson’s prayer offensive? The sodomy case ruling upset him so, he’s having his followers pray for something to happen to hasten the retirements of the offending Supreme Court justices. Not only is this prayer offensive offensive to me and unbecoming for a religious leader, but word is that the justices are just fine and enjoying their August vacation. So much for Robertson’s prayer power. But we knew that.

But perhaps the weirdest manifestation of weird August is the barrage of news reports, feature stories, interviews and just plain giddy media attention on the topic of gay marriage. Apparently, thanks to Canada and the Supremes, the sky is falling and certain pious types are running around screaming that because of the mere future possibility of gay civil rights "we could lose marriage altogether!" I don’t know what that means, exactly, but I don’t think we can lose marriage, like losing a set of keys or your lunch.

Last I heard, gay marriage still wasn’t legal in the USA, and even if a state or two does approve it, that odious Defense of Marriage Act from the 90s makes it impossible for my partner and I to have a valid U.S. marriage.

So why the rush for a constitutional amendment? If the Supreme Court ruled in favor of Corporate Casual Fridays, would Bill Frist be on TV calling for a constitutional amendment banning pajamas in the workplace?

I give up. If August is for loonies, the only sensible thing to do is jump into the fray. I’m snapping off CNN and taking my brain on holiday. We live in a vacation paradise and I’m spending as much of August as I can enjoying it. I’ll be on the beach, at the pool or on the boardwalk sniffing beach fries.

If even loonier things start happening I don’t need to know. Except of course, if you hear that Queer Eye wants to make me a star by having a slew of dykes try and teach me to change a tire on my Subaru. Now that would be loony fun. Come get me. I’ll be on Baltimore Avenue sipping Margaritas.