Saturday, November 23, 2013
La musique par Louiguy Les paroles par Edith Piaf Des yeux qui font baiser les miens, Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche, Voila le portrait sans retouche De l'homme auquel j'appartiens Quand il me prend dans ses bras Il me parle tout bas, Je vois la vie en rose. Il me dit des mots d'amour, Des mots de tous les jours, Et ca me fait quelque chose. Il est entre dans mon coeur Une part de bonheur Don't je connais la cause. C'est lui pour moi. Moi pour lui Dans la vie, Il me l'a dit, l'a jure pour la vie. Et des que je l'apercois Alors je sens en moi Mon coeur qui bat Des nuits d'amour a ne plus en finir Un grand bonheur qui prend sa place Des enuis des chagrins, des phases Heureux, heureux a en mourir. Quand il me prend dans ses bras Il me parle tout bas, Je vois la vie en rose. Il me dit des mots d'amour, Des mots de tous les jours, Et ca me fait quelque chose. Il est entre dans mon coeur Une part de bonheur Don't je connais la cause. C'est toi pour moi. Moi pour toi Dans la vie, Il me l'a dit, l'a jure pour la vie. Et des que je l'apercois Alors je sens en moi Mon coeur qui bat
Friday, November 22, 2013
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
I find a few things shocking about the TRANSGENDERED DAY OF REMEMBRANCE | 2013. When I was in high school and taking the brunt of abuse from students, faculty, and staff, I would have NEVER thought there would be a "day" of remembrance for anything remotely "gay." Let alone the last Sunday in June, when there's a gay parade down Fifth Avenue in NYC. Yeah, I've been there. It's like a sick circus. Not an act of pride. But transgendered. You won't find me using the word "tranny." Or however it's spelled. Do you really think "transgendered" people would choose that life? There's got to be something biological going on which really throws a switch. I could say maybe a cross-dresser practices cross-dressing as an act with which to draw attention to themselves. But think about "transgendered." I've read some serious white papers about obstetricians (or whatever they are called) in the delivery room "having to make a decision." Even a white paper saying just that much should raise eyebrows. "Make a decision?" What does that really mean? What causes them to be in that position? What are they "seeing" biologically? I had a student who quite literally passed off the fact that she was a hermaphrodite in such a casual way, I couldn't believe what I heard. "And I'm going to have that taken care of" as she waved towards her nether regions. I was so stunned I didn't even have time to process the thought and respond. I just wanted her cancer to be cured. Transgendered, people. It's biological. It's not a lifestyle choice. Being a coward is a choice. Let's stand up for these brave people, and stop calling them "freaks of nature." We're the freaks.