Last night's dream involved a bright, labyrinthine, concrete college campus. There were thousands of people rushing busily about, including every United States president. Tim and I were playing cards somewhere when he and I started loudly criticising conservatives until I spotted George H. W. Bush behind Tim. I kept up what I was saying, but I toned it down a little to be polite to him. The younger George Bush kept trying to approach people and hug them, but people kept ignoring him. Not so much because they hated him, but because everyone was in too much of a hurry. He had a confused grin on his face the whole time. There were also subway monorail systems at the college and I thought somehow I was responsible for making sure there wasn't a bomb on any of the monorail cars.
While colouring yesterday, I listened to Monday's Howard Stern Show, and George Takei was on again, as he often has been over the past couple years. I got angry again about Proposition 8 as Takei talked about how much had changed for him since he'd married Brad, his partner of more than twenty years. He talked about going to the Oscars and how, before, when the celebrities would get separated from non-celebrities at a certain point, he and Brad would end up having to sit in different parts of the theatre. Now, since they were married, they could be seated together.
And I wondered why they hadn't been allowed to sit next to each other when it's quite common to see stars bringing dates with them and I realised it was because they were gay--the heterocentric theoretical viewer eye is less interested in two people of the same sex sitting next to each other. Even in Hollywood.
Of course Stern asked about Takei's sex life as well, and Takei did say he and Brad had been having a lot more sex since they'd gotten married, probably because Brad felt more secure in the relationship. So there are all kinds of societal and psychological layers that are addressed by marriage that aren't by civil unions. That conservatives probably at some level sense this is why they're so hell-bent on defining marriage to exclude homosexuals. It's one of those things that make me pessimistic about the culture wars--the issues so often can only be discussed while only acknowledging about one percent of each ice berg.
I watched the second episode of Battlestar Galactica's fourth season last night. Some absolutely cringe-worthy scenes of Lee leaving military service filled with pomp and circumstances that can't help but feel ludicrous in the environment of the desperate band of surviving humans. And I guess we just have to take Lee's word that one of the best pilots among a group that had been so desperate to recruit that they had taken raw amateurs before better serves the fleet by starting a new career as a lawyer.
And, um. Anyone notice the dead guys in the head? Hello? There's one with brains splattered everywhere? Beaten with a metal pipe?
I like that Baltar's having hallucinations of himself now. Considering that, while everyone else seems to be in Saving Private Ryan, he seems to be in The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, it makes sense for him to have delusions of grandeur.
I have a lot of colouring to do to-day, so I'd better get to it . . .