If it drives you crazy that Outlook seems to randomly double-space your double-spaced e-mails, making them quadruple-spaced, Slipstick.com has the best explanation of the cause:
When you press Enter while creating HTML email, Outlook inserts a paragraph tag (<p>), so two Enters (for white space between the paragraphs) inserts two <p> tags, which is double spaced when rendered in a browser. If you use Shift+Enter twice, which creates the line break tag (<br>), the message will not look double spaced in a browser. This will look ok in all mail clients.
… and lists the six best ways to stop Outlook from double-spacing your e-mails:
Use plain text for messages. Plain text will look ok in any and every email client available.
Press Enter once, not twice, when composing HTML formatted email.
Press Shift+Enter twice at the end of a paragraph, rather than pressing Enter twice.
Just ignore it as an inconstancy in the way various applications handle HTML.
Edit the email template to add ’12 points after’ in the Normal style.
Use Search and Replace to replace paragraph symbols (^p) with a manual line break(^l).
It really just sells itself, doesn’t it? I should definitely get one for … my abs.
From the YouTube description:
From Korea, for those who like to ride the horse in front of TV and in home comfort of their own space. For all family member, this home mechanical equestrian system will meet for all the family need. It help device to fitness you up! And reach the health goal! Live longer for now! Be your Ace Power!!
What am I not seeing? I have no idea how effective this thing is, but where is the “dude”? Looks no sillier than 500 other exercise devices.
OK, MadisonConservative, here’s a hint: the instant that sex toy websites see this product in action, they are going to fall over themselves to carry it paired with the … attachments … they already sell. And it will probably inspire a new amateur porn subgenre.
Beauregard liked to accompany me on my walks around the house to fill the bird feeders. He was always full of advice and charming conversation. I called his harness and heart-shaped ID tag "the business attire of the respectably-employed gentleman cat." My father built the purple-decked Berrigan canoe in the background in our basement in the late 1960's and paddled it on wilderness rivers in the U.S. and Canada.
My beloved big grey cat, Beauregard Jackson Pickett Burnside Yockey, died in his sleep on June 30, 2012, at the age of 15 years and nine months. I raised him from his feral kittenhood and all his life I would hold him in my arms, stroke his chin and sleek his whiskers and tell him, “I have loved you from first sight when you were little kitten boy.” I rescued him and his brothers and sister around Thanksgiving 1996 when they were about eight weeks old and got his feral mom spayed although she was too wild to tame and had to be released.
Taming feral kittens involves sitting with them for long periods of time in a space where they can’t get very far away from you and letting them gradually start to feel safe with you on their own schedule. I cleared out the floor of the closet of the bedroom I shared with my late life partner for them and left the light on so their vision would develop normally. I added a box turned sideways to create a cave effect with a flannel sheet for warmth, plus food bowls, water and a litterbox. Then I would just sit with them and let them race over my stretched out legs until they were exhausted. When they were too sleepy to be frightened, I would line them up on my thighs, which they loved for the warmth, then I would stroke them and they would melt. I learned from Remington, Beau’s brother, that the moment they crossed the line from feral to tame was the first time they exploded into a purr when I stroked their ears.
That year “Auntie Mame,” with Rosalind Russell, played several times in December because of its heartwarming scene on Christmas Eve 1929. Mame had just lost her fortune in the stock market crash, so she promptly got a job at Macy’s to try to support herself and her nephew, maid and butler. Luckily she waited on a handsome, wealthy Southern oil tycoon named Beauregard Jackson Pickett Burnside, who fell in love with her on the spot. When he tracked her down he exclaimed, “Why it’s a miracle! It’s a good old-fashioned Christmas miracle, that’s what it is!”
So in December 1996, when Beau finally burst into his first purr of tameness, that was the line I joyfully quoted to my late life partner. Suddenly I realized that he was Confederate grey and so amazingly handsome that “Beauregard Jackson Pickett Burnside” was the perfect name for him. You can see in photos below the fold that he actually shimmered because every hair was tipped with silver!
I bonded with Beauregard the most deeply because we both loved for me to cradle him in my arms like a baby while I stroked him from the tip of his chin and down his tummy to the tip of his tail. The closet was chilly so I would wear one of Margaret’s big sweatshirts and envelope Beau in its folds to keep him cozy as I cuddled and stroked him. In the video above the reason he’s following me and meowing is that he’s asking to be picked up and cuddled and stroked in a similar way, which I did all his life. Oh, and he did get his cuddle.
Since I moved back home to take care of my father, this evolved into a routine where, when it was time to come back inside after checking on his catnip plants and eating a little salad, Beau would walk to the threshold of the door then turn around, go back to the sidewalk and loll on his back in the maximum cuteness pose so he could get his tummy stroked. Not only did this always work, but also I would pick him up, pet his tummy some more and let him look around at the beautiful world he lived in, before I carried him inside. Then I would present him to my father for more pets and announce, “Your property has been under heavy guard by a vicious predator.”
That always made my father smile and he would say, “Can we keep him?”
I replied, “Yes, he is so handsome, brave and smart — and look at those tennis racket paws!”
My father would smile again and say, “We’ll have no rats or mice with him on duty.”
Then I would take Beau to the kitchen and set him down in front of his bowl. We all thought this was a very satisfactory system.
On Thursday, June 28, Beau accompanied me in the morning to check out his new raised garden, installed this year as a cooperative project with a neighbor, as he loved to do. On the way back to the house, he buried himself in one of his giant catnip plants — another favorite activity that gave us both waves of joy. My heart melted and because I got an iPhone after getting burned in May to help me cope with my memory problems, I was able to capture these events in photos. But when I was seeing my father to bed around 11 pm, I found Beau in the middle of the hallway too weak to stand. I rushed him to the animal ER thinking he was dehydrated. However, an exam, bloodwork, urinalysis and treatment with subcutaneous fluids ruled out everything treatable. He also started having seizures, which the veterinarian said pointed to cancer in his brain.
This made sense because Beauregard was a cancer survivor. In fact, Beau’s cancer is the reason I took the plunge and started this blog on January 12, 2009. In late 2008, I noticed a lesion on his left cheek. I thought I could make the money I needed for his surgery with this blog. I didn’t give up on my plan and ask someone else who loved him to pay for it until February. Afterwards, his veterinarian said he hadn’t been able to get all of the tumor and that Beau’s cancer was likely to recur.
The reason that I had money for Beau’s treatment on June 28 is that a couple of hours earlier I had sold my late brother’s Yamaha motorcycle on eBay. It had been sitting in a corner of my father’s garage since my younger brother was killed in a car accident in August 1973 at the age of 18. I only netted around $400 toward the $1200 I needed to take the next step in starting a business so I can support myself after my father is gone, but I had felt happy that I was on my way. So I was losing my most beloved cat at the same time I was delaying or losing my dream. Still, I was relieved and thankful to have the money I needed for Beau’s care.
But I didn’t have the $75-150 I needed for the X-rays the vet wanted to take to verify the cancer diagnosis and rule out an obstruction. I had to save $85 for his euthanasia since it would probably come to that. I didn’t want a strange vet to do it. I wanted it done by the veterinarian I trusted, at a practice where he was known and all the techs would cry because they loved him, too. And I have to admit that by 2 am the ER vet had found the express route to my last nerve by proposing an MRI, heroic measures and chemo before getting around to saying how handy it would be to have an X-ray or two.
I took Beauregard home and set him up in my bedroom. Over the next day I stroked him and syringed tiny amounts of Pedialyte into him every few minutes. I prayed he would make it to his appointment with his regular veterinarian on Saturday morning. Around 1 am on Saturday morning I was passing out from sleepiness and I lay down next to Beauregard on my bed. But he wanted to go on his own terms and some time in the night I felt him climb down from the bed using the steps I’d made so getting up and down would be easy. He found the only place under the bed I hadn’t been able to block off and passed away in his sleep.
I have spent most of July raking myself over the coals for two things. First, I am flabbergasted that Beau’s symptoms since December didn’t click for me as something I had to figure out a way to get money to diagnose immediately. Then I would have known what treatment he needed or I could have put him into kitty hospice care, which would have gotten him even more pets and pampering than my already deluxe standard package. Figuring out when a person or animal I love is dying and getting between them and the angel of Death is WHAT I DO, dear gentle readers.
However, I was badly injured the day after CPAC in a way that damaged my memory and cognitive abilities and I’m not back yet to where I was before CPAC. The short version is that I fell asleep sitting up several times while I was watching over my father that day and apparently had a number of long apneas — I think the hypoxia damaged my working memory and executive function. I’ve been equivocating about what to say about my health and how to say it since then. Also, with a black hole where my memory and organizing abilities used to be, it’s been difficult to write since then. That’s why I came home from CPAC walking on air, bursting with things to write and photos and videos to share and then couldn’t do it.
On top of that, since January I’ve had a series of medical emergencies that required professional care. Beau’s brother, Remington, was diagnosed with cancer in January. I also was dealing with our mortgage and tax problems, which didn’t get finally sorted until July 3. I took in two elderly cats with health problems so neighbors wouldn’t have to euthanize them when they moved to a rental that doesn’t allow cats. I had my vegetable garden to get in. I have a small amount of my own clutter I still have to organize and clear. And I have dozens of boxes of my parents’ late caregiver’s possessions in the garage and basement to open and sort through to decide what to donate and what to sell. Once my lights were punched out by hypoxia the day after CPAC, my ability to handle all these things easily and efficiently was badly impaired — with the added concern that bringing my memory and organizational abilities back is a slow process with its own timetable.
There’s also the possibility that, as success author Stuart Lichtman suggests in his post, “Taking Your Success to a Higher Level,” Beau’s illness is something my Unconscious deliberately hid from me. I just couldn’t bear to know.
The second thing I’ve been angry with myself for is not getting the X-rays. My reasoning at the time was two-fold. First, I was afraid of spending the money and then getting hit with an unexpected big bill, or a car repair, or a dental emergency for my father. In the following three weeks I hit the trifecta:
the next week the unexpected big bill came (big = $350)
a week later my 16-year-old car stalled at 20 miles per hour and the dealer pronounced it totalled due to the cost of repairs required and the certainty that even several thousands of dollars of repairs would not keep it running
followed two days later by Dad’s #19 molar getting badly infected and having to be extracted.
Second, I wanted to have Beau’s regular vet do the rest of the diagnostic work since the ER vet had done everything she could to stabilize him, short of heroic measures. Now I think another reason I didn’t want to do it is that if I had seen the extent of Beau’s cancer on an X-ray, I would have felt a duty to euthanize him immediately and I just didn’t want to do it then, not there and not by that veterinarian. I wanted to cut him a better deal.
And I got a gift from that — one that amazed me. I have lived in great social isolation for the last 20 years caring for my late life partner and now my father. Because I am not in contact with a lot of people in the course of my day, as most people are, it doesn’t feel easy to reach out. But I could not stand for my darling boy’s dying to go unnoticed. So I betook myself to Twitter and a Facebook group where the leader had brought up “Auntie Mame” only a couple of weeks before and I had shared how I had named him.
To my amazement, both from Twitter and from Facebook, Beau got many prayers and I got a group hug. I am grateful with all my heart. And I learned a lesson in having faith in my connection to my friends and online pals.
I know I should have written this post immediately after Beau died. But I wanted to memorialize him with photos. This involved a quest through the hard drives of my PC and my father’s iMac, learning a LOT more about iPhoto and iMovie and organizing my photos and videos. The result is the video you see above. If you watch it, I would really appreciate it if you click “Like” because that will help its ranking on YouTube.
I have been away from writing regularly so long that I don’t feel I’ve worked enough to deserve anyone’s kind donations. Nevertheless, the fuel pump on my car is dying and when it goes, my car turns into a brick. I need to generate $600-$1200 for a down payment to be able to buy a used car. I can’t get a job because I have to take care of my father and can only make money with things I can do at home. I will be selling stuff on eBay (need a vintage Briggs and Stratton 6S lawnmower?) to try to get some quick cash. But I have to open every avenue of raising money. If you are willing to help me with my car down payment, I will be very grateful and send you an e-mail thank you note.
Meet Cleo, the calico on the left, age 19, and her daughter, Ro-Ro, 17.
I adopted Cleo and Ro-Ro on May 13 from neighbors after learning they were facing euthanasia because the neighbors were moving to a rental that would not take cats and had not been able to find them a new home.
The next day I had the vet check them out and got them treatment for their ear mites, plus a shot of prednisone for Cleo to treat her case of rat lip, which made it painful for her to eat and groom herself.
Both kitties have blossomed with their new health, but only Cleo leaves my room. Ro-Ro calls Polar Bear names and screams and hisses when he comes to check her out. This results in squabbles. In contrast, Cleo radiates serenity and affection, so Polar Bear leaves her alone and she is free to go anywhere in the house while he keeps Ro-Ro bottled up. When Cleo does venture out, she generally makes a beeline for her Grandpa’s lap, which he loves, telling me I’d better feed the scrawny new cat. She gets plenty of food, plus treats of ghee to try to get some weight on her — I think she’s added a few ounces since moving in.
Cleo is helping to see my father to bed. She has melted his heart and he is besotted with her.Cleo thinks water tastes best from Grandpa's mug. Not to worry, I washed it and refilled it shortly afterwards.
My 96-year-old father had an infected tooth pulled this afternoon. He’s in pain, so I am sitting with him this evening to monitor his condition. We’re watching the Orioles, who are beating the Indians in the bottom of the sixth with a score of 10 to 1.
What Kimberlin didn’t realize is that Stacy is a Connector, as defined by Malcom Gladwell in his book, The Tipping Point, which is about social epidemics. As Stacy rose in the blogosphere, he graciously took a lot of smaller bloggers with him. So Kimberlin’s attack on Stacy forcibly focused the attention of every blogger Stacy knows — which is pretty much everyone in the Right blogosphere — on the following admonition by Benjamin Franklin at the signing of the Declaration of Independence, “We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately.” That is why today conservative bloggers are uniting today to expose both the criminal history of Brett Kimberlin and the political intimidation and personal destruction campaigns being waged against bloggers by Timberlin, Neal Rauhauser and Ron Brynaert.
Stacy wrote on May 22 that Kimberlin’s intimidation tactics forced him to flee Maryland with his family. The same day Ace of Ace of Spades HQ joined the fray to explain the controversy to his readers and urge them to hit Stacy’s tip jar to help him meet the expenses of uprooting his entire household. I particularly recommend Ace’s post explaining why 36 more states need “vexatious litigant” laws to close this avenue of personal destruction — thank goodness, Maryland does have a “vexatious litigant” rule.*
On May 23, Michelle Malkin picked up the story and called for a “blog burst,” which is a coordinated group of bloggers posting on the same subject in order to bring it to public attention — I recommend reading her post. Hot Air followed and the floodgates opened. Lee Stranahan, who made the video embedded above, suggested May 25 for the blog burst, “Everyone blog about Brett Kimberlin” day. Today Patterico’s post, “Convicted Bomber Brett Kimberlin, Neal Rauhauser, Ron Brynaert, and Their Campaign of Political Terrorism,” is the top thread at Memeorandum.
(I am tardy due to second degree burns on my hand from a grease fire on May 15. I’ve been was too sleepy and foggy from Percocet to post. I’ll write about that later today or this weekend.)
The following is an incomplete round-up of posts on Brett Kimberlin:
To donate to Stacy, click his post about the new site set up by the National Bloggers Club, “KimberlinFiles.org.” It gives you two options: Stacy’s own tip jar, and the fund set up by the National Bloggers Club.
Breitbart.com re-posts Liberty Chick’s report from October 2010 on Kimberlin’s criminal past and intimidation tactics. Kimberlin co-founded an organization called Velvet Revolution, which filed lawsuits in Maryland against James O’Keefe, Hannah Giles and the late Andrew Breitbart.
What is SWATting?It’s something that Andrew Breitbart talked about in his last radio interview. A person calls an emergency line claiming to be the person that he’s targeting, alleging a shooting, and claiming he’s the shooter. A SWAT team arrives at the target’s home, guns drawn, and orders the target out of the house. From the malicious caller’s point of view, the optimal result is that that police have an itchy trigger finger and shoot the target, preferably to death. This actually happened to Patterico, and to another person who was, at the time of Wienergate, investigating the former Congressman’s tweeting. The person whom Patterico suspects actually made the call is . . . Ron Brynaert, who has threatened to sic the NYPD on me for supposedly leaking his email address to a person whom he characterizes as a ‘blackmailer’—most likely Kimberlin victim Aaron Walker, formerly Aaron Worthing of the Internet, who has named him in a complaint after having been fired, along with his wife, by their employer for having attracted the animus of Kimberlin, Rauhauser, Brynaert and Friedman for offering some free legal advice to one of their targets.That target, somewhat-less-obscure-than-before blogger Seth Allen, had committed the terrible crime of criticizing Kimberlin, in the wake of Mandy Nagy’s seminal account of the ongoing antics of convicted terrorist and perjurer Kimberlin, published by Breitbart. Patrick gives a brief outline of the ways in which Nagy, aka Liberty Chick, was harassed and threatened by Kimberlin and Associates. Among their many targets, these four, along with Rauhauser’s “beandog” army of moral midgets, Koslings (there is undoubtedly some overlap), and Anonymous hangers-on, have named Ace, whom they wish to ‘out.’When Aaron Walker broke the story of his punishment at the paws of these cowards, for providing free legal counsel to one of their victims, Stacy McCain was among the first to write about the atrocity. He called me up the morning that he published his first story on the subject, asking whether I’d seen it. I responded that I had, and that I was writing about it, too. Naturally, Stacy then himself became a target and hit the road for the safety of his family. If you are one of the people who believed that McCain was overreacting, or that it was some kind of publicity stunt, you need to rethink your position and apologize wherever you may have expressed that opinion online.
A final irony. This Memorial Day weekend marks the anniversary of the breaking of the Anthony Weiner story, a story that Robert Stacy McCain immediately recognized as newsworthy but the mainstream media did not, instead along with the online left, they attempted to use it to attack Andrew Breitbart believing his lies right up until the point when he confessed them.
Mark Krikorian at National Review: “The outrage is not that there’s another leftist threatening violence against those who disagree with him, but that the authorities haven’t done anything about it. In the end, this is about the rule of law even more than free expression.”
“When faced with this situation — a criminally vindictive vexatious litigant with a violent history, a full purse, and a legal system that refuses to act — there’s only one thing to do: make it practically and financially impossible for the bad guy to continue his damaging ways. If Kimberlin wants to go after bloggers, we’ll give him bloggers . . . hundreds of bloggers. Good luck to him trying to turn his efforts and energies, as well as his friends’ deep pockets, to the task of silencing every one of the individuals willing to re-print his record of lawlessness, imprisonment, harassment, and abuse of the civil justice system.”
Lee Stranahan created the video above and put out the call to make May 25 “Everyone blog about Brett Kimberlin Day.”
Duane Lester, All-American Blogger, has timeline listing and linking pretty much every post published online about Kimberlin, which is extremely useful.
Instapundit has several useful posts on Brett Kimberlin (the link goes to a Google search that provides relevant links at Instapundit)
Popehat, who is a lawyer, uses his access to the Westlaw database to create a brief profile of Kimberlin by quoting judgments against him.
Kathy Shaidle features Ezra Levant interviewing Matthew Vadum (video), who explains the non-profits Kimberlin has founded to obtain funding from the Left, including George Soros’s Tides Foundation and Barbra Streisand.
UPDATED, 5/26/12, Sat.: One of the ways that Kimberlin is harassing Virginia attorney Aaron Walker is his filing for a “peace order” against him. Stacy has the details on the next hearing on Kimberlin’s bogus peace order request to be held at 8:30 am, Tuesday, May 29, in Maryland’s Montgomery County District Court in Rockville.
The Court of Appeals fashioned Maryland Rule 1-341 to protect civil litigants from certain types of improper conduct by an opposing party or attorney. As reflected in the title of Maryland Rule 1-341, “Bad Faith — Unjustified Proceeding,” in any civil action, a court may require a party, that party’s attorney, or both to pay reasonable expenses, including attorney’s fees, incurred by the adverse party if a proceeding was maintained or defended in bad faith or without substantial justification. This Rule applies to all civil proceedings in all Maryland courts, including the appellate courts. Allnut v. Comptroller of the Treasury, 77 Md. App. 424 (1988), cert. denied, 315 Md. 307 (1989). It is applicable to all attorneys practicing in the Maryland courts, including out-of-state attorneys who are specially appearing pro hac vice. Id.; Watson v. Watson, 73 Md. App. 483 (1988). However, it is not applicable to attorneys who fail to appear for court-ordered mediation sessions, Tobin v. Marriott Hotels, Inc., 111 Md. App. 566 (1996), or to conduct in federal court proceedings, Major v. First Virginia Bank, 97 Md. App. 520, cert. denied, 331 Md. 480 (1993), or to proceedings before the Health Claims Arbitration Office, Newman v. Reilly, 314 Md. 364 (1988).
A more precise headline would be, “Bully terrorizes gay Christian children in anti-gay sermon while congregation laughs.” Seriously: gay children were in fear of their lives during the sermon by Pastor Sean Harris shown below. Another pastor wrote to the Fayette Observer that the gay and lesbian Christian teens she counsels not to kill themselves include children who are members of Pastor Harris’s church.
Yesterday PJ Media published my post, “A Contrarian View of Dan Savage’s Rant,” which compares the offensive language of Dan Savage to the threats of violence against four-year-old boys by Pastor Sean Harris. If you read it there, I link the full video, but here is the clip that got my attention:
Transcript:
“So your little son starts to act a little girlish when he is four years old and instead of squashing that like a cockroach and saying, “Man up, son, get that dress off you and get outside and dig a ditch, because that is what boys do,” you get out the camera and you start taking pictures of Johnny acting like a female and then you upload it to YouTube and everybody laughs about it and the next thing you know, this dude, this kid is acting out childhood fantasies that should have been squashed.
Can I make it any clearer? Dads, the second you see your son dropping the limp wrist, you walk over there and crack that wrist. Man up. Give him a good punch. Ok? You are not going to act like that. You were made by God to be a male and you are going to be a male. And when your daughter starts acting to Butch you reign her in. And you say, “Oh, no, sweetheart. You can play sports. Play them to the glory of God. But sometimes you are going to act like a girl and walk like a girl and talk like a girl and smell like a girl and that means you are going to be beautiful. You are going to be attractive. You are going to dress yourself up.”
You say, “Can I take charge like that as a parent?”
Yeah, you can. You are authorized. I just gave you a special dispensation this morning to do that.”
From time-to-time I see Ace using the following quote — this time in reference to proposals that the government fight the obesity epidemic by forcing people to eat better and exercise more — and I am always surprised that he never makes the connection that however benevolent you believe it may be to force your religion on people through the government, it is tyranny:
As C.S. Lewis wrote, benevolently-intended tyrannies are the worst of all:
Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.
via fixerupper
Not even a more-in-sadness-than-anger resignation to the idea that freedom must be abolished — no, they’re positively giddy about it!
They would strip the freedoms away from Americans to vindicate a busybody impulse to slim people down?
If they’re willing to jettison freedom over so trivial a reason — what reasonwouldn’t justify ending the American birthright of freedom?
What would not, in their eyes, justify the coercive power of the state squashing individual autonomy?
Thoughts for Earth Day: Oil only kills wildlife when there’s an accident, but wind energy kills birds, bats and insects — including the ones needed to pollinate crops — when the turbines are working as intended. And how do the wind farms kill birds and bats? The air pressure change near the turbines ruptures their lungs. Wind power isn’t green energy, it is red from being drenched in blood.
Dear Stacy gloats about the supposed Leftist hypocrisy of Out magazine firing all its staffers and hiring back a select few to work as freelancers willing to work without health insurance, benefits and steady paychecks. Ha! This is really just more proof that the gay community is a model of applied fiscal conservatism. After all, lesbians and gays cannot depend on any of the social institutions that lavish their largesse upon straight people: the family, religions, the government. We must depend on ourselves and one another.
That is why lesbians and gays choose entrepreneurial careers in large numbers. That is why the gay community creates its own charities, non-profits, services and businesses to serve its needs. That is why gays need taxes to be low and government small, so they have the discretionary cash for these purposes.
If gays ever want to have the power to make the Democrats keep their promises of gay equality, all they have to do is take a break from donating to and working for Democrats and — this is the key — start acting like they are willing to listen to lesbian and gay conservatives explain the advantages of fiscal conservatism.
Update, 4/20/12, Fri.:
Dear God, give me strength! Daniel Blatt, who blogs at Gay Patriot, cannot tell the difference between the following two concepts:
One of the founding principles of conservatism is that life is not fair. We seek equality of opportunity and accept there is no such thing as equality of result without the application of force to deprive people of some measure of their liberty. So when Daniel seeks to expose the false reasoning of Leftist gays when he poses the question, “Can government make life fair for gay people? (Should it?),” you would think he would be on firm ground. And he would be, if he stuck to drawing distinctions between free market economies and socialist/redistributionist planned economies.
But noooooooo!!!! Daniel is NOT defending the principle that government cannot make life fair by ensuring equality of results — and must not deprive people of their liberty in a foolish quest to try. Instead, Daniel ridicules the bedrock conservative principle that one of the very few things government SHOULD do is guarantee equality of opportunity — in this case for gays. This means federal, state and local laws banning job discrimination against lesbians and gays.
So, the answer to Daniel’s question, when it comes to employment and every other right of equal citizenship — such as marriage equality, housing and public accommodations — the government can and must make life fair for gays.
