Massachusetts does something right, and sticks to it.

This guy has been lurking on Vleeptron, but NOT LEAVING COMMENTS.

Well. Vleeptron is not punitive or cruel. The next time he shows up at the Akira Kurosawa Zeta Beam Drome, we will not pour old motor oil all over him, force him to withdraw his life savings from the ATM, and then send him to Columbus, Georgia.

Rather, we will simply NOT edit his post. All spelling and punctuation errors are his original errors, and can ultimately be blamed on the University of Massachusetts at Amherst (where they have the cool chain-link-fence Labyrinth with the beer cans and used condoms). Also, his Testament indicates that Boston City Hall bureaucrats behind Window 4 have already punished him enough.

As you know, complete legal equality and human rights for lesbians and homosexuals has been the Law of Vleeptron since 11481 AV. Before that, gays and lesbians were not allowed to possess red M&Ms or wear bow ties. But Vleeptron recognized that these were inequities and wrote gay rights into the Vleeptron Constitution in big letters.

We regret that we still have not built a public park and monument to homosexuals and Lesbians. If you want one of those -- the only one of those on Earth -- you gotta go to Amsterdam.

Somewhat to my astonishment, my Commonwealth of Massachusetts also has gay equality written into its Constitution. At least that's what its highest court said exactly (give or take a couple of days) a year ago. If I recall correctly, it was a unanimous decision.

This fellow -- I hope he enjoys his month in Columbus -- is an ordained Christian Divine, and was kind enough to journey to Massachusetts to marry me and SWMBO about six years ago.

The only odd thing about that was that if he'd wanted to get married in the same lovely autumn park that day, Massachusetts wouldn't have allowed him to.

Now he lives in Massachusetts again, and he and his partner CAN marry in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. And they're gonna next month!

Some of my fellow Massachusetts citizens are popping veins and having strokes and frothing at the mouth and putting lightning rods on their roofs in fear of the Wrath of You-Know-Who -- but so far, the state legislature hasn't been able to overturn the same-sex marriage okay of the Supreme Judicial Court.

Sometimes this Commonwealth kix butt! Those of you reading from overseas and overtrees (i.e., Canadians) should note that Massachusetts did not vote for President Bush either time, and we didn't vote for Nixon, either.

More Discount Theology from Bob

Let me tell you about You-Know-Who. He/She/It didn't make fourteen percent (I think that's what Dr. Kinsey surveyed) of us homosexuals just to give them a real hard time for their whole lives.

"Raffiniert ist der Herr Gott,
aber boshaft ist er nicht --
God is subtle, but not malicious."

-- Albert Einstein

Of course Freedom of Religion includes the right to believe in and worship a Malicious God. But ... uhhh ... why?

So, anyway, Vleeptron is thrilled and happy to present the following Testament, bad spelling, punctuation and grammar and all. And bring me back a cheap souvenir from Columbus. A snow globe. I love snow globes, particularly from places that do not have snow.

{ [ ( o ) ] }

Edit please. And then, you may print it as a guest column to the Vleeptron Daily News if you wish. I've been enjoying lurking on your blog.

Tomorrow [17 May] is the one year anniversary of gay marriage in Massachusetts. There are events planned for the steps of the State House, but I do not plan to attend ... I'm not much of a 'flag waver' when it comes to that.

I'd like, however, to relate to you how my partner and I celebrated this milestone event. Last Friday, we went to Boston City Hall to get our own Marriage License.

Boston City Hall is an immensely ugly building. Acres of grey concrete that looks worse in the rain, built in the 1970's. It is just as ugly on the inside, and is even worse now that there is a 'temporary' security checkpoint inside the main entrance. A turn to the left, down an escalator, and one is in what can best be described as a pit.

Surrounding this enormous room with its sunken floor are several large service windows that look like teller windows in old banks. Great security cages separate the Civil Servants from the Populus. Over each window is a sign indicating what government function one can accomplish. "Pay Excise Tax" "Construction Permits" "Pay Parking Tickets" (there were several of those...). "Fish and Game Licenses". At the far end were three windows marked "Marriages" "Births" "Deaths".

The order of the windows says something about the assumptions of the builders, I think.

We arrived in this Temple of Government shortly before the windows opened. People milled about quietly. We noticed several hand-written notices taped to various windows, but found the one next to the window where one could get Death Certificates most amusing ... "Closed on Wednesdays". Apparently, Death Takes a Holiday on Wednesday in the City of Boston.

Eventually, the window opened. A short, frumpy Civil Servant asked the first person in line in a beautiful South Boston accent ... "May I help you?" The business of getting married had begun.

When our turn came, she politely asked us what we wanted. "We'd like to get married" I said. The room behind her contained desks and a shelf of enormous bound record books, of the sort you would see in a library. She handed us a beat up clip-board with a pen attached to it with a piece of string. "Fill this out over there," gesturing to a writing desk a short way away, "and come back to this window".

Off we went. We dutifully filled out the form, a large Seal of the City on top..."Intention to Marry in the City of Boston in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts". Party A, he, and Party B, me. A moment of concern when we realised that he did not know his father's name; his mother had never married and he had never known or met him. We left the space blank. Address, Social Security numbers; no we did not intend to change either of our names. Signed at the bottom; yes, all this information is true to the best of our knowledge. Back in line we went.

We handed the clip board to our Civil Servant. With a practiced hand and eye she carefully checked the form for completeness and legibility. "No father listed?" "None" we replied. A notation made. Then, over the top of her glasses she commanded: "Raise your right hands." "Do you swear that the information you have provided on this form is correct, so help you God?" A moment of panic on my part ... he is pagan and prays to the Goddess. Please don't make a scene! "Yes!" we both responded.

With a practiced flourish, our Civil Servant took a great huge stamp and with a loud THUNK THUNK THUNK granted Governmental Approval to our application. She handed us a small slip of paper, one of the ones she had just rendered Official with her stamp. "Take this over to the Cashier window. $50, and bring back the receipt to this window."

Around the corner to the cashier we went ... we realised that the Cashier window was part of the same large room that included the Marriage, Birth and Death departments. $50 to the teller, and she handed us our receipt. Back to our Civil Servant...we handed our receipt back over the counter and with another practiced THUNK, she again rendered it Official. Another THUNK, and she handed us yet another slip of paper, with our names and a long number on it...with the instructions that our actual license would be available to be picked up on Tuesday. We thanked her, but she had already moved on to helping the people in the line behind us.

What surprised me was the utter banality of it all. Here, we had seen such rancor and demonstrations. And in the absolute mechanical necessity of Government, what had been such a cause of social upheaval and unrest has been absorbed into the mechanism of bureacracy. No one flinched. Noone questioned us. It was as if it had always been. I came away from the experience relieved and not a little surprised at how unremarkable the entire process was. We had gotten dressed in our best suits to go to City Hall, we could just as well have worn jeans and t-shirts. I am glad that we are having a ceremony at a Church, for if that was all that getting married entailed, then the institution of Marriage as a social reality is as meaningless as getting a fishing license or paying your parking tickets.

Perhaps the loudest opponents of same-sex marriage should stand in line near the Marriage window on the ground floor of Boston City Hall and watch. The couples behind us were as diverse as our city itself. Old, young, gay, straight, black, white. Except for the sign over the window, you could not tell what this group of people was in line for. How wonderful. Tomorrow, when I go back to get my Marriage License, I think I'll renew my fishing license too.