Taking Maine’s Measure

Maybe it was the cold weather. Or perhaps it was the rival protest across the park competing for the attention of passerby. Or maybe it was the oddity of seeing Maggie Gallagher, president of the National Organization for Marriage, sitting smugly on a nearby bench, letting loose a sly smile as she watched the anguished faces of those standing before her.

But these features of the hastily arranged rally yesterday in Washington, D.C.'s Dupont Circle - the focus for most of the city's earnest protests - just exacerbated what was already a depressing moment for gay rights this week, when Maine voters chose to repeal the state's same-sex marriage law on Tuesday. There was, predictably, a great deal of anger, including the occasional f bomb. But the assembled Washingtonians were well behaved; certainly to the extent that Gallagher could feel safe sitting quietly by herself to watch the proceedings. So much for her complaints, registered shrilly and frequently in the wake of the success of Proposition 8 last year, that gay rights activists physically "intimidate" her and other opponents of marriage equality. If there was a horde of angry, violent lesbians out for her head, they were nowhere to be found that chilly October evening.

But perhaps the most disheartening, and telling, aspect of Tuesday's loss was the rude awakening offered by President Barack Obama's silence. In December of last year, responding to complaints over his selection of the controversial Pastor Rick Warren to deliver the invocation at his inauguration, Obama pledged to be "a fierce advocate for gay and lesbian Americans." It was a promise he had made repeatedly on the campaign trail, to the extent that he raised more money from gay donors than any other presidential candidate in American history. Yet that much-ballyhooed advocacy was nowhere in sight these past few months, as those hoping to maintain Maine's legislatively enacted law permitting gay marriage fought tooth and nail to keep it on the books.

That silence was shared by Obama's former campaign organization, Organizing for America, since subsumed by the Democratic National Committee. As blogger John Aravosis discovered, OFA did not mention the initiative in any of its literature or e-mails sent out to its supporters in Maine. Never mind the president - as for the White House, it could only bring itself around to issuing a halfhearted statement after The Advocate's indefatigable Kerry Eleveld prodded them into offering some sort of explanation of where they stood. That mealymouthed statement, reiterating the president's logically untenable opposition to both gay marriage and ballot initiatives banning it, did not even mention Maine by name, nor did it include any reference to a similar battle in Washington state, where voters were given the opportunity to vote to uphold or repeal a law giving expanded domestic-partnership benefits to gay couples. That measure fortunately passed - the first time that state-level benefits have been granted to gays by popular vote - no thanks due, however, to the "fierce advocate" in the White House.

But Maine is where marriage was up for consideration, and it was there that the real gay rights battle of the year transpired. Maine is in solid blue New England territory, and given the recent marriage victories in Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Hampshire, and Vermont, many predicted - hubristically - that similar fortune would befall them in the Pine Tree State.

That it did not is doubly depressing.

Still, the gloating by the likes of Gallagher will be short-lived. Yesterday, she told The New York Times, "Maine is one of the most secular states in the nation. It's socially liberal. They had a three-year head start to build their organization, and they outspent us two to one. If they can't win there, it really does tell you the majority of Americans are not on board with this gay marriage thing."

Gallagher may be right in her last assertion, but the number of voters opposing gay marriage declines with each successive poll, and all the data shows support for gay marriage trending higher with younger voters. According to census projections, Maine has the third-largest percentage of voters over the age of 65. Not only do these voters represent a critical mass of people who will be inclined to oppose gay marriage, they also will turn out to vote in higher numbers than younger citizens.

Such observations will not offer much consolation to the gay couples in Maine who saw such a basic civil right snatched from them by their fellow citizens. Nor will it provide succor to the nationwide advocates of marriage equality, gay and straight alike, who have banked so much on a state-by-state strategy. In the wake of the Maine defeat, many are beginning to question the wisdom of that approach and are looking with newfound hope to the federal lawsuit filed by superstar lawyers David Boies and Ted Olson challenging the legality of Proposition 8.

Bringing such a case to the Supreme Court is a risky plan that could reap massive dividends if it succeeds or tragic consequences if it fails. And while the local strategy may not have worked this time in Maine, it has worked thus far in several other states, and the results will only get better with time. Rest assured that the day will soon come when Maggie Gallagher won't be sitting quite so contentedly, smiling at the people whose rights she's spent so much effort to strip away.

Open—But Invisible

No one can tell my girlfriend is gay.

An example: About two years ago, Jenny and a gay male friend went to San Francisco in June. They were excited to celebrate Pride.

But first they were hungry, so they approached a short gay guy wearing leather. "Anyplace around here we can get Mexican food?" Jenny asked.

The man looked them up and down and then said with a condescending sigh, "The Mexican neighborhood is a few blocks over. This is the Castro. I just want to let you know that there will be a lot of people here, because there's a thing happening called Gay Pride, so if you really want to stay in the neighborhood, there will be long waits." Jenny and her friend stared at him in disbelief.

"I am a lesbian standing with a gay guy in the Castro," Jenny said to me later. "And even then, no one knows I'm gay."

I think this is funny, because to me Jenny is obviously gay. Sure, she keeps her curly hair long. She wears makeup. But she tends to gesture like a boy, she talks low in her throat and her nails are short. In these post-'L' Word glamour lesbian days, those should be all the cues another gay person needs.

But no.

Not even gay people can tell that Jenny is gay, and it makes her sad.

"How can you be part of a community if no one can see you?" she asks.

Humans are a tribal animal, and if you're gay, the LGBTcommunity is your tribe. We want other gay people to recognize us, because it makes us feel less alone. It makes us feel like part of something.

"Also, being gay is more fun," Jenny says.

Back in the early '90s era of identity politics, recognition was easy. We wore rainbow rings around our necks, pink and black triangles in our ears, shirts with slogans like "No one knows I'm a lesbian" on our torsos.

When we came out, lesbians automatically cut their hair and stopped wearing makeup completely.

But as the movement has gotten older, lesbians - and gay men, too - have stopped conforming to a narrow (if highly recognizable) stereotype and instead have found ways to be both gay and deeply ourselves. We now know that if we like the feeling of long hair against our shoulders, if we like the way our eyes look when rimmed with mascara, if we like the swish of skirts against our knees or the brisk click of heels, then that's OK.

We can be butch all the time, sometimes or never. Whatever we choose to wear, we're still lesbians.

But while society has gradually grown more accustomed to the idea that gay people can be flamboyant or perfectly ordinary, we in the gay community don't always recognize our more subtle brothers and sisters on the street. We assume heterosexuality. Even in our own neighborhoods and our own shops.

Yesterday, Jenny walked into a cafe. "Feminist Salads" was chalked on the menu board. Ani DiFranco growled over the sound system. And the woman behind the counter, pierced and short-haired, was so clearly lesbian she could have been wearing a name-tag.

"I kept joking with her and talking to her, wanting her to know I was gay without actually saying, 'Hey, I'm gay!' or 'Hey, I have a girlfriend at home!'" Jenny told me later.

"I looked at her and felt a sense of connection - and I wanted her to have that sense of connection, too. But of course she didn't."

So Jenny left, feeling more isolated than if the barista had been straight. Because the woman didn't see her.

Another Video Against Same-Sex Marriage Whose Underlying Facts Will Be Ignored

Here's a video I'm afraid we'll be seeing more of - a young man from Massachusetts fired from his job for objecting to a coworker's announcement that she was going to marry her same-sex partner.

The key legal issue (like that matters) is whether he is correct that she was harassing him throughout the day, or whether he is offering a self-serving version of events. Either could be true. I'm skeptical that his employer would have fired him for a single incident like this on a single day, but those are questions to be investigated (not like anyone will care). He could be right that the coworker was taunting him.

But two things about the video jumped out at me. First, and overwhelmingly, I was struck by how immediately his joy at a coworker's happiness turned into sour judgementalism. Are his religious beliefs really so harsh that they have this effect on his normal human emotions, ecstatic for his co-worker one moment, and disgusted the next? Is it the role of religion to transform the joy we feel for other people into an emotional menace?

Second, his repeated argument in the first two-thirds of the tape warning people in other states about how they, too, could suffer this kind of joy-deficit if their state passes same-sex marriage completely dissolves before our eyes when he intently criticizes the employee training tape about expressing opposition to someone of the same-sex making a pass at you. If that's actually what the tape says (and this seriously undercuts his credibility, in my eyes - I honestly can't imagine this not falling under the rubric of sexual harassment, at least if it were repeated) then his concern about gay marriage laws is the smallest part of his concern. As with so many other arguments purporting to be about same-sex marriage, the real concern he has is with open homosexuals in the workplace he shares with them. And if he thinks stopping gay marriage will halt that, too, he has another think coming.

Again, I doubt any of this will actually matter as the tape make the rounds of the right wing sites. But I couldn't help noticing.

Or How About We Call GLAAD And Tell Them To Lighten Up Instead?

GLAAD is encouraging people to call Comedy Central to whine about Wednesday's hilarious episode of South Park. The episode revolves around the boys changing the definition of the word "fag" to refer to irritating Harley drivers.

Not only does the episode confer a valuable public service by drawing attention to the menace posed by attention-seeking jerks who ride without mufflers, it also lets kids know that gay people are O.K., but GLAAD is all in a tizzy because the episode drops the f-bomb about a zillion times.

GLAAD even goes so far as to suggest that the cavalier use of the word "fag" in a gay-positive way in a comedy show can lead to kids killing themselves:

this year, an 11-year-old Massachusetts student named Carl Joseph Walker-Hoover, unable to endure the unrelenting anti-gay bullying and name-calling he experienced at school, committed suicide

Seriously? They are going there? Are they really suggesting that there is no difference between a joke about the word "fag" and tormenting a child in school?

So, for my friends at GLAAD, let me offer some desperately needed perspective. Using the word "retard" in a joke is crass, and possibly funny. Calling a kid with Down's Syndrome "retard" is cruel and savage. Using the word "bitch" while singing along to a rap song in your Toyota is somewhat pathetic, but harmless. Calling your wife "bitch" on a daily basis means you are a vicious jerk. It's called context, people.

Rare Bipartisan Agreement

This story about the last-minute Democratic National Committee emails to Maine voters begging them to help out Jon Corzine in New Jersey(!), and failing to mention the referendum in their own state is, I'm afraid, a cautionary tale about the naivete (or just wishful thinking) of minority groups who depend on a single party.

Of course the DNC is going to want to help their party members, and Jon Corzine was Exhibit A of those in need; he couldn't have been more pathetic if he'd been holding a sign saying "Will Govern For Food."

In contrast, Question 1 - and, in, fact, our fundamental legal equality - was and is not a Democratic Party issue, no matter how much we try to will that into being. No matter the odds, no matter the long-term harm (and this election did us some very serious long-term harm), gay marriage in particular is electoral Kryptonite. When our marital rights are on the ballot we can count on Democrats for a laurel and hearty handshake, and a nervously articulated prior commitment elsewhere.

Why we believe otherwise is a mystery. The Democratic Party, and the President, himself, made it very clear that when it comes to elections about our rights, we're on our own. Which is not to say Democrats are our enemy, or anywhere near as harmful to our equality as the near-death wing of what was once the Republican Party. We may very well be able to squeeze some bills out of Congress, like ENDA, and that's not anything we could expect from the other party.

But on gay marriage, both parties are in perfect alignment -- with each other, and with the religious right -- wishing (and praying) it would go away.

“This Gay Marriage Thing” — Maggie Gallagher

A lot of people are pondering the state of gay marriage in the wake of our loss in Maine. But I think Tuesday's election results should get us all thinking about a more important, and much deeper storyline: the state of anti-gay prejudice. The full results of the off-off-year election show that after literally centuries of predominance, anti-gay prejudice is seeing its final days.

The loss in Maine actually makes that point. While the conventional wisdom characterizes it as a "stinging setback for the national gay rights movement" - and that's from our friends at the NY Times -- that's correct only if you think gay rights equals marriage. Marriage is the only issue we lose any more, so of course it presents a tantalizing story for the mainstream press, who get to sympathize with us while just doing their job reporting the news of our incomprehensible political impotence.

But on Tuesday in barely noticed elections elsewhere in the country, we won voter approval of (1) domestic partnerships in Washington; (2) an anti-discrimination ordinance in Kalamazoo; (3) an openly gay city council president in Detroit; and (4) an openly lesbian mayoral candidate in Houston. That seems to say something about the state of anti-gay prejudice in this country.

The Kalamazoo election was particularly telling and anachronistic; it's something we just don't see much of any more, an attempt to take away simple non-discrimination protection. And nearly 62% of voters chose to keep it in place. That's some evidence of how deeply into the mainstream of this country's politics gay acceptance has moved. Somehow, I'm not thinking Kalamazoo's gay community is feeling a stinging setback.

Marriage is not just an outlier, it is the only outlier. The fringe of the right will complain about any legal protections for lesbians and gay men, but they can't put together a majority on any issue except for full marital equality. An enormous majority of Americans even support repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell, though political cowardice on that issue still lingers in Congress -- the same cowardice that got us the policy in the first place.

This chart shows that more than a majority in virtually every state, including the ones with the most anti-gay sentiment, supports employment and housing protection, hate crimes laws and health benefits for homosexuals. The trailing issue in all states is always marriage, with majority-plus support in only six states.

In short, these are hard times for homophobes. That's why gay marriage is such a satisfying issue for the ones who are left. It is the only issue where they can rouse up enough residual bias against gays among otherwise fair-minded people to win an election.

And the importance of that last word cannot be overemphasized. It is direct elections where anti-gay prejudice about marriage can best be exploited. This may be the most toxic consequence of Maine. It is a warning shot to legislatures to avoid exercising their best judgment about fairness for gay citizens. The anti-gay bias that short-circuits rational debate in the electorate at large will make legislative action futile, so don't even bother to try.

As I argued before, I would like nothing better than to have a full discussion among the electorate on the merits (or flaws) of the public policy issue of gay marriage, but neither Maine nor California took advantage of that opportunity; at the least, it was offered by one side, but was of little interest in the other side's strategy. The anti-marriage campaigns were about anything but gay marriage.

If there's any doubt about that, compare the arguments in these campaigns to the arguments the right makes in court when trying to defend exclusionary marriage laws. No responsible lawyer could argue to a court (without worrying about sanctions) that gay marriage will force schools to teach children about homosexuality in the second grade, nor can a lawyer try to scare a court with images of kids reading books like King and King. Lawyers have to focus on the issue before them in their briefs and arguments in court, because courts are forced to assess the rationality of the arguments before them, and have to explain themselves in written opinions. There is no room in court for the political slurs that make up anti-gay marriage electoral campaigns. The best the right can do in court is arguing about procreation, deference to the legislative branch (an argument I wouldn't expect them to make in the future -- at least not with a straight face) and the will of the people. Not a word about second graders.

That enormous distance between the arguments made to courts about gay marriage and the obfuscations used in political campaigns says a great deal. I do not ever expect to have the kind of thoughtful discussion in public that courts are required to have. But, the very fact we can't have a public discussion about gay marriage when gay marriage is the issue might suggest, to reasonable people, that there may be something underlying the anti-marriage forces besides a desire to do what's best for the public weal and what's fair for a minority. Contra Rod Dreher and others, 31 wrongs do not make a right.

Maine was an extremely hard loss. But Washington looks to be a solid victory, and Kalamazoo was a blow-out. The gay rights movement is hardly on the ropes in this country, and our opponents should be taking little comfort from their ability to deny us this one right.

My Great-Grandmother and the Bitch-Slap Theory of Politics

My great-grandmother was a wonderful woman. Her home was one of the warmest, most comforting places I have ever been, and many of my best memories as a child revolve around her kitchen.

My great-grandmother was also a bigot. As a child, she patiently explained to me that the Ku Klux Klan was a force for good (they built schools!). She thought that Brown v. Board of Education was one of the worst events in U.S. history, equaled only by the end of mandatory school prayer. In response to a horrific string of murders of black children in Atlanta, she commented that such a thing shouldn't happen "even to children like that."

My great-grandmother was a product of her time. The odds of a working-class Southern woman born over a century ago being anything other than a bigot were slim to none, but even now it feels kind of gross and traitorous for me to acknowledge her bigotry. She clearly met any reasonable standard for the word 'bigot', yet applying the word to her feels disgusting.

This brings me to Rod Dreher and the bitch-slap theory of politics.

Rod recently penned a column whose central thesis was "I dares you to call me and everybody else who opposes gay marriage a bigot!" This is a classic bitch-slap tactic. "Call me a bigot and you call all those nice old ladies who voted for Prop 8 bigots too!"

The bitch-slap tactic isn't so much an argument as a dare. As Josh Marshall eloquently explained, a political bitch-slap involves taunting an opponent in a way intended to highlight their lack of strength or courage. If the person whom you bitch-slap responds angrily, they look irrational or crazy. If they respond in a calm, measured way, they look and feel like wimps. It is a win-win for the person doing the bitch-slapping. It's also a cheap, nasty tactic that should be recognized as such.

Rod's argument is also, frankly, unfair to bigots. My great-grandmother didn't have much of a chance to be anything but a bigot. Her bigotry was an accident of history, and not in any real sense a choice. Frankly, I do not blame her for what she was. I blame the politicians and writers and preachers who actually had the chance to shape her environment and chose to do so in a way that inflamed bigotry. I don't know if those people were actually bigots. I do know that they deliberately spread the evil of bigotry, which to my mind is far more immoral.

Election Reflections 2009

While it's hard not to be heart-broken over Maine voters rolling back marriage equality in one state where it was legislatively (not judicially) created, there are some key lessons that might be learned. Or not, more likely.

On marriage, the "M" word remains our biggest hurdle, no thanks to a "progressive" president who still reiterates his belief that marriage is only between a man and a woman, which anti-equality activists certainly make use of, and an LGBT movement that responds with "Thank you, sir, may I have another."

While all-but-marriage partnerships may just survive in Washington State, advocates face the hard truth that U.S. voters remain unwilling to grant us marriage equality in the vast majority of states.

Great Britain doesn't use the "M" word for all but marriage-they use "civil partnerships"-and many European nations that now have marriage equality first went through a period of all but marriage. We may have to as well (with the stipulation that the federal Defense of Marriage Act be amended to give equal rights to all but marriage partnerships recognized by the states-and even that remains a huge political hurdle, despite Democratic congressional majorities, which are sure to shrink in two years time-tick, tock, tick, tock).

Skipping "all but marriage" and demanding the "M" word may make for rousing protests, but at some point you have to admit that, when voters have the final say, it's a failed strategy, barring a sea change in popular opinion.

In the political contests, it's not all gloom. Bob McDonnell, the new GOP governor of Virginia, may be a Christian conservative, but he barely mentioned social issues in his campaign (while his Democratic opponent, Creigh Deeds, lambasted McDonnell for being against women's equality in a 20-year old master's thesis, which was also anti-gay, but that point was not used by Deeds.) Both Deeds and McDonnell had voted in the Virginia legislature for a successful state amendment banning same-sex marriage, although Deeds receive all the organizational LGBT endorsements. But McDonnell, while avoiding social issues (other than declaring his present support for women in the workplace) ran a low tax, contained-government campaign. And that's why he won, with some Republican and libertarian gay support.

I haven't followed the New Jersey race in which Republican moderate Chris Christie ousted Demcrat John Corzine, a close Obama ally, but it doesn't seem like gay issues were much discussed there, either.

In New York's 23rd congressional district, liberal, pro-gay-marriage Republican Dede Scozzafava was challenged on the right by Conservative Party nominee Doug Hoffman. She withdrew and endorsed Democrat Bill Owens after tanking in pre-election polls. Owens, a gay-marriage opponent like the president he supports, won. If Scozzafava hadn't been so far to the left on economic issues (her support for bigger government spending and union "card check" fueled her rightwing opposition), it would have been a clearer test of the GOP's willingness to support gay-marriage advocates in its big tent. But we'll have to wait to see those contests.

More on Marriage. Columnist Steve Chapman seems of a similar mind when he writes, in Gay Marriage Lost, But It's Not Losing:

it's not the idea of treating gay couples equally that bothers most Americans. It's the name of the legal arrangement. Call same-sex marriage by another term...and they're fine with it....

...you don't get across a broad river in a single leap. You get there by building a bridge that allows you to travel across one step at a time. As a destination, civil unions leave a lot to be desired. But as an avenue, they're hard to beat.

Anything But Marriage

I don't usually think of George Will as someone who misses the point. Even when he is wrong about something, he usually understands and can articulate what is at the heart of the debate. That's one of his particular virtues.

So I was more than just disappointed in his column this morning about the election in Washington State. Reading his column makes it seem as if Washington's electorate is voting on a referendum to disclose the names of petition signers. Will offers one offhand sentence to mischaracterize the election ("The referendum is on a new state law that some say establishes same-sex marriage." Yes, "some" say that - the proponents), but virtually every other word in his column is about a completely tangential lawsuit that is pending in the courts.

Will, of course, has no obligation to write about the subject of the actual election two days before election day -- though people could certainly be forgiven for thinking that might be what the column is about. What is most confounding is that the tone of the column is so characteristic of the core tactics of the anti-gay side. Its premise is right out of the 99 and 44 one hundredths percent of Pure Fox News that is not news: The liberals are out to get decent conservatives in this country: "It is time to speak up about thuggish liberalism," he writes in the final paragraph.

Well, maybe it is. Writers on this site can speak from experience about such thuggery. But Washington is having an election, not about thuggery, but about whether to approve a legislative proposal to correct a history of injustice to same-sex couples, an imperfect one that attempts to give them everything but marriage. The opponents cannot tolerate such equality, and lacking real arguments, want to talk about anything but marriage: implicating gays in the recruitment (if not actual molestation) of children; insinuating that religion would somehow be undermined by domestic partnership; and now distracting the voters from the actual subject by focusing them on the privacy rights of petition signers.

Two days before the election, Will has added his considerable voice to theirs in preventing voters from focusing on the issue before them in the referendum. The press keeps presenting these elections as being about gay marriage. But once again, we're seeing how little interest the right has in having that discussion.

Frank Schubert and His Dark Materials

Jim Burroway has an excellent post at Box Turtle Bulletin on the contrasting messages in the Maine election: Frank Schubert's ugly, fear-inflected slurs against marriage equality (when he even bothers to address marriage, which isn't very often), vs. our hopeful appeals to the better angels of the electorate.

Jim is worried that this is a recipe for us losing, and he has a point. Schubert has worked hard to create doubts among many moderate heterosexuals about what would happen if same-sex marriage were legalized. These are fraudulent doubts, but they are nontheless effective ones.

Jim's concerns about our response are well-taken, but he doesn't offer a better strategy for us. I think that's because there isn't one.

Here is the gist of his analysis:

". . . people don't see how same-sex marriage will impact them and their families - especially not enough to pay attention to the issue and go out and vote in an off-year election on someone else's problem. . . . So how do you fix it? Change the topic from something nobody personally cares about to something everyone cares about."

In both California and Maine - and in Washington, which keeps getting left out - the other side appeals to education as the primary self-interest that heterosexuals care about. As Jim notes, there simply isn't much reason for the 95-97% of Americans who are heterosexual to care about same-sex marriage, but everyone (even us!) cares about education.

But it's not just "education" that is being appealed to; it is centuries of prejudice about the "Homosexual Menace" when it comes to children. The savvy characters running the anti-marriage campaigns know enough to finesse their leverage of prejudice. But when you start insinuating that legalizing homosexual marriage will lead to second graders learning about gay sex, it's hardly accurate to claim your argument is a high-minded one about education.

That is why fear works for the other side. That gut-level dread and misunderstanding is exactly what we have spent generations trying to erode in people's consciousness. The other side is not interested in conscious thought, they're manipulating unarticulated bias, which they get to take for granted as part of their voters' psyche.

We don't have any similar bias to work with. Or even rational fears. The only thing we have in our toolbox is what is best about people: their sense of justice, understanding and fairness about how majorities can advantage themselves, even without meaning to disadvantage a minority. As I was reading Jim's piece, I kept wondering what kind of campaign we would run if we tried to emulate Frank Schubert's tactics. We just don't have the fundamental material to work with - accumulated prejudice - that he has.

That is, in fact, the dilemma any very tiny minority with a long history of being misunderstood has in a majoritarian culture. Burdened with all those harmful stereotypes, and lacking any constitutional protection against laws that single them out, a minority's only remedy is an appeal to the majority to move beyond the stereotypes, the little formless fears. If there is some way to present that as involving the self-interest of the majority, I would dearly love to know it.

Perhaps I'm being too narrow in my thinking, and I'm certainly open to suggestions. But the only two heterosexual self-interests I can think of are both weak tea. The first is that heterosexuals have an interest in protecting themselves from being deceived by people who are in the closet. Marriage is the arena where the closet becomes the most potentially dangerous for heterosexuals. Don't ask, don't tell works well enough when people are single, but if the gold standard of heterosexuality is entering into a marriage, then heterosexuals have a self-interest in making sure we are not deceiving both ourselves and consequently, them. But try making a 30-second spot out of that.

The other heterosexual self-interest is the purely political one of reasonably-minded people protecting themselves from the aggrandizement of the religious right. As I've argued, I think it is in the President's self-interest to make sure we win both of these elections, because losses will energize some of his most virulent opponents. But he's being advised by a lot of very smart people, and he doesn't seem to see this as worrisome.

And that leaves us where we started. We simply don't have anything bleak or cynical to use in these campaigns. That is certainly a weakness in a political campaign where the other side does have those tools. But we can only work with what we have. We can't run a negative campaign because we don't have anything for people to vote against.