President Obama endorses gay marriage

That was yesterday.

In other news, there's a big Obama fundraiser tonight at George Clooney's house.

I guess ticket sales had been slow.

Mr. Obama is nothing if not calculating and deliberate. Therefore it seems evident, in retrospect, that Mr. Obama and his campaign advisers first let Joe Biden endorse gay marriage... but when that didn't sufficiently ignite the fundraising base they next let the Secretary of Education, Arne Duncan, make a similar announcement.

Ordinarily, and certainly on paper, the Secretary of Education ranks far below the Vice President in the power pecking order. But Mr. Duncan is a fellow Chicagoan, a frequent basketball-playing partner of Mr. Obama's. Having Duncan signal support for gay marriage was meant to say, nudge, nudge, wink, wink, that Obama was really in favor of gay marriage too.

Still, fundraising did not take off.

Thus yesterday's 'bold' announcement.

I'll bet there's a good turnout tonight at Mr. Clooney's -- and a far more enthusiastic crowd than might have otherwise assembled.

But Mr. Obama knew he was taking a risk -- would this gain or lose him votes in Ohio or the other swing states that will decide his reelection bid? It wasn't as if gays were going to abandon him for a Republican -- good heavens! -- but elections aren't just about votes. They're also about dollars. Mr. Obama's support among business leaders is far more limited than it was in 2008; he needs to replace those dollars somewhere. There's a lot of money floating around in Hollywood.

Besides, when it comes to what's right and what's wrong, the pro-gay marriage people are closer to the mark than their adamant foes. This brilliant bit (obtained from George Takei's often entertaining Facebook page) points out the hypocrisy found among too many in the one-man-one-woman crowd:

A Biblical scholar may know differently, but I can't think of one place in the Gospels where Jesus takes a position on homosexuality. But I know He was no fan of divorce. For serial monogamists to claim that gays would make a mockery of marriage would be laughable, if it weren't so stupid. This tongue-in-cheek definition of "marriage" recently posted on Urban Dictionary seems about right: Marriage is "[w]hat straight couples have legally and commonly don't want, and what gay couples don't have legally and commonly want."

Homosexuality has existed at all times in all places in all cultures. Some people will be gay whether homosexuality is tolerated, persecuted, celebrated or made a capital offense.

Because there will always be gay people, it stands to reason that some of them will, in due course, fall in love and live together.

One of the compelling arguments in favor of gay marriage are the indignities visited on gay people who are hospitalized. Because a longtime companion may have no legal status (and because of well-intended privacy laws foisted on us by Ted Kennedy), overly fussy hospitals sometimes refuse a dying person the comfort of the person closest to him or her.

You do not have to think homosexuality "right" or "good" to know that this is wrong, wrong, wrong.

On the other hand, gay marriage is just not marriage.

You can make an argument that marriage is not just one-man-and-one-woman -- there is ample precedent for marriage to be defined as one-man-and-several-women. The Bible tells us that Abraham had two wives ("and look at all the trouble that's gotten us into," says Long Suffering Spouse). But nowhere, never, not at anyplace or time in the world did marriage ever mean one-man-and-another-man or one-woman-and-another-woman. Even in ancient Sparta, where male homosexuality in the army was encouraged as a means of building unit cohesion, discharged veterans were expected to settle down with a female and marry and breed new soldiers for the city-state.

You can't change the meaning of a word by imposing upon it an artificial definition. Yes, certainly, language evolves and the meanings of words can change over time because people use them differently. "Fie" was pretty strong language in Elizabethan times. I'm old enough to remember when "gay" meant "happy." I suppose the dictionary may still support that definition -- but, if happiness is what you're attempting to convey, don't try trying telling strangers how gay you feel.

I suppose my objection here is a consequence of my training as a lawyer. For years I have had to cope with answering Interrogatories drafted by lawyers who feel the need to "define" every piddly term they use. Some are not necessarily hard to deal with. In a typical "Definitions and Instructions" section you might find this:

The term "person" means any natural person, corporation, association, partnership, joint venture, or other business entity or organization, or any governmental or administrative agency.

(And yet many lawyers were among the persons most upset when the Supreme Court decided to think that corporations are persons!)

But some "definitions" are just impossible-to-comply-with gobbledygook:

The terms "and" and "or" should be construed either conjunctively or disjunctively, whichever makes the interrogatory more inclusive.

Think about this for a minute: Under this "definition" the phrase "three or four" might equal seven!

And these "definitions" just send me over the edge, every stinking time:

The singular form shall be construed to include the plural, and vice versa, whenever such a dual construction will serve to bring within the scope of any of these Interrogatories information that would otherwise not be within their scope.

The past tense shall be construed to include the present tense, and vice versa, whenever such a dual construction will serve to bring within the scope of any of these Interrogatories information that would otherwise not be within their scope.

I always object to this verbal clutter by presenting my own counter-definitions, insisting that my Answers are intended to be read in standard English, unless the use of another language is clearly indicated. I'll insist that the singular will not include the plural, nor the plural the singular, nor will "up" mean "down" or "in" mean "out."

No one has ever challenged my position on this in front of a judge.

I object to gay marriage = marriage just as I object to and = or. Redefining "cow" to include "horse" does not make it OK to eat My Friend Flicka.

Giving legal recognition to homosexual relationships is a new thing. For now, therefore, the new term "civil union" is more than adequate for this purpose, as long as Adam and Steve in a "civil union" are given the same legal rights as Adam and Eve in their marriage. I've said here before that I'd take the government out of the marriage business entirely and instead license the consensual relationship between any two persons (not barred by consanguinity) as a civil union. I'd let churches decide what is, or is not, "marriage."

Eventually, perhaps, by common usage, marriage will come to include same-sex relationships. That's the way the language may evolve. But it ain't there yet, whatever they say tonight at George Clooney's house.

Curmudgeon's conundrum about 'contributions'

Usually I just sign the papers that the accountant sends me each quarter. If I read this stuff, I might have questions -- and, I've learned the hard way, the accountant bills me for his answers.

Admittedly, I'd do the same for him, if he ever hired me for something. He hasn't. (One of us is clearly smarter than me.)

But this month, as I was making my quarterly rendering unto Caesar, I couldn't help but notice the certification language in the Illinois Employer's Contribution and Wage Report form.

I am, you will recall, a solo practitioner. I have no employees. Yet I still have to send money into the state every so often for unemployment insurance.

Before I swore off asking my accountant questions, I asked once whether I could collect unemployment if I ever laid myself off.

He laughed.

"I take it that's a 'no'?"

"No, Curmudgeon, you can't lay yourself off," he said.

"Can I fire me? Lately I've become quite dissatisfied with my performance. And I have a bad attitude."

"No, you can't fire yourself either."

"Well, how can I collect unemployment?"

"You can't."

I started to ask why -- and stopped. The answer would have bankrupted me.

Anyway, that check every quarter to the Director of Unemployment Security was a recurring sore spot in my life even before I noticed the certification language:

I hereby certify that the information contained in this report and in all accompanying schedules is true and correct to the best of my knowledge and belief; and that no part of the contribution reported was or is to be deducted from workers' wages."

Don't you just love how the word 'tax' can be translated as 'contribution' when rendered in bureaucratese?

Maybe it was the word 'contribution' that caught my eye in the first place.

But I reread that last part again -- certifying "no part of the contribution reported was or is to be deducted from workers' wages" -- and I started thinking.

I mean, as a solo, money I don't pay out in expenses is money I can take home. So, therefore, any money I pay out as expenses is -- effectively -- deducted from my wages... including (yikes!) this 'contribution' to the state!

I've been worried sick since. If I'm reading this right, if I don't pay the tax (er, contribution) I violate the law. On the other hand, if I do pay the tax I have violated my solemn certification....

I'm overthinking this, aren't I?

Do you suppose this is how Wesley Snipes went wrong?

Mr. Language Curmudgeon defines "martyr"

Readers of this blog will note that I frequently inveigh against the creeping Orwelliazation of the English language, that is, the taking of wholly useful, commonly understood words and infusing them with a new and different meaning and, then, all too often, denying that the prior definition ever existed.

I am old enough to remember, for example, when "gay" meant "happy." Once upon a time, children, "queer" meant "odd" or "different." "Marriage" was the union of a man and a woman. "Police action" meant Officer O'Flaherty swinging a billy club at some miscreants, not hundreds of thousands of American troops fighting wars in Asia. For that matter, "war" meant a violent confrontation between nations, or among groups of nations, fought with armies and navies and air forces, not a public relations campaign against (pick any or all of the following) poverty, drunk driving, obesity, drugs....

Another word which has been hijacked and perverted (without apparent protest!) is "martyr."

Suicide bombers are lionized in certain parts of the world as "martyrs."

Victims of terror bombings are sometimes also referred to as "martyrs."

Murderous brutes launch rockets from the courtyards of mosques or school playgrounds, hoping to draw retaliation at the launch point. The inevitable casualties will be hailed as "martyrs," while the monsters ultimately responsible for their deaths will have slunk away, dragging their portable rocket launchers with them.

None of these, though, are "martyrs."

A martyr does not commit suicide. A martyr is murdered. A martyr does not kill others; he or she is killed.

How then does the martyr differ from any murder victim? A murder victim does not know that he will be murdered. He may know -- as an inner city gang member, for example -- that his life expectancy is short, but he does not know the day or the hour.

As a young boy in a fairly progressive Catholic school there were often times during the school day when I had finished my assignment and was free to pull a book off the shelves to read.

The options were fairly limited, of course, but there was all the excitement and adventure (and blood and guts and gore) a boy could wish for in The Lives of the Saints. Oh, sure, some stories were boring -- impossibly good priests or nuns, devoted to prayers and scrubbing floors, reluctantly performing miracles for the faithful who gathered 'round in expectation -- but, then, there were the stories of the martyrs.

Early Christians endured hundreds of years of persecution before Constantine had his vision of the Cross. The persecutions produced legions of martyrs -- men and women and children singing hymns of praise and thanksgiving as they bravely marched into the Coliseum to be devoured by lions or hacked limb from limb by gladiators.

Later, of course, I would learn that the Romans had been remarkably tolerant of other faiths in their day, co-opting the local deities whenever they conquered a region, building temples to the local favorites (and doing their best to identify the hometown heroes with someone in their own pantheon). The trouble was that the early emperors also co-opted the eastern idea that rulers were gods on earth, thus entitling them to sacrifices. It became something of a loyalty oath -- give the emperor his stick of incense and worship whoever else you wanted.

This the Christians could not do. (Well, some did, of course, but none of them ever made it into The Lives of the Saints.) Jesus had taught the early Christians to render unto Caesar the things that were Caesar's and to God the things that are God's. And they took Him quite literally. Worship was over on the God side of the line and hundreds -- thousands -- of Christians refused to cross that line.

The Christian martyrs did not court death. They hid out. They tried to fly below the radar (the Catacombs, surely, qualify). Like Thomas More in a later age, they tried to say nothing rather than say anything that would damage their lives here or in the Hereafter.

But, sometimes, the Christians were forced out into the open. Perhaps they were betrayed. Or the local officials were required to make a proper demonstration. Each tale of martyrdom had its unique elements. But there was a unifying theme: The Christian martyrs did not volunteer to die; they were condemned because of their faith. They did not choose death except as a less evil alternative to dishonor and damnation. They had to choose between sacrificing to the emperor or sacrificing themselves.

In making this awful choice, the Christian martyrs became braver than the bravest firefighter or police officer or soldier. The firefighter or police officer is trained to cope with danger and learns to live with the possibility that any call may be his or her last. Soldiers are trained to cope with the possibility that enemies will try to kill them -- and, preferably, how to kill the other side's soldiers first. But the martyrs knew they were going to die and they would not, and could not, fight back.

And they went in singing.

For a boy reading The Lives of the Saints, this was awesome, inspirational stuff. It made quite an impression on the Romans, too. Though the martyrs were anything but terrorists, their calm acceptance of their fate terrified many Romans. The deaths of the martyrs inspired a lot of Romans to convert. Eventually the bloody path of martyrdom led to the Milvian Bridge.

The important thing, for a modern person, is that the loser who wires his body with explosives trying to kill women and children at a bus stop is not a "martyr." He is a suicide and a murderer. He is a criminal. And, in the long run, he will inspire no one.

Mr. Language Curmudgeon tackles email etiquette

Older Daughter holds a degree in English from the University of Illinois, our state's most prestigious public university. It was the job prospects for English majors that led her, by mesne conveyances (just a little, and slightly-misued, lawyerly flourish), to seek a career in nursing.

Now licensed in Indiana, Older Daughter is seeking employment in the nursing field. She has been directed to one or more "nursing recruiters" and she and I were conversing on the phone recently about an email she proposed to send to recruiter Hannah Helpful (oddly enough, a made-up name). Older Daughter started reading me her draft: "Hi, Hannah," she began -- and I interrupted.

"You are a proud graduate of the University of Illinois, with a degree in English, no less," I reminded her, "and you begin a business letter with 'Hi, Hannah'?"

"My degree is in English literature," Older Daughter responded, "not grammar. Besides, emails are supposed to be informal."

Says who? That's what I want to know.

I think I persuaded Older Daughter to change the tone and content of her letter, starting with a change from "Hi, Hannah" to "Dear Ms. Helpful," but that's not the point.

The point is that, since our conversation, I've started to look more carefully at emails that I've received. More than a few start with "Hi" or "Hello" as if they were phone conversations -- and I'm talking about business emails here.

I hate to sound priggish, but, for cryin' out loud, people, business emails may be discoverable in litigation. Do you really want the court and jury to hear opposing counsel, in full sneering mode, read an email that you wrote beginning with "Hi"?

I don't pretend to understand the ins and outs of "e-discovery" -- I have enough trouble finding stored emails on my own computer -- but I know enough to know that this is officially the next big thing in the ever-growing trivialization of the legal process. There are computer programs written to sift through reams of emails that no one will ever actually read -- unless they contain particular key words.

Let me put it this way: You would not send out a business letter that begins "Hi." An email sent in the course of one's business -- even one typed out on the teensy-weensy keys of one's Crackberry -- is a business letter. Informality leads to imprecision... even sloppiness.

Careless spelling and punctuation -- celebrated, apparently, as 'virtues' in 'informal' email composition -- can create all sorts of problems down the road. Consider the world of difference between these two statements:

The Dinner Party: "Let's eat, Mom!"

and

The Donner Party: "Let's eat Mom!"

And yet, the two sentences differ by only one letter and a comma.

Typos happen (more than a few examples are, unfortunately, available right here in this blog). Ambiguities are found every day in carefully drafted insurance contracts and statutes (sometimes I help find them). Why start out with an attitude that typos, imprecision, and resulting ambiguity will be SOP?

The executive summary of this post: Stop writing "informal" emails for business purposes. Stop it now. Tell 'em Mr. Language Curmudgeon told you this is the way it must be.

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P.S. -- Don't believe me about e-discovery? Check out the link I got in the email just today (which, by the way, did not begin, "Hi, Curmudgeon") about this American Bar Association CLE program, the 4th Annual National Institute on E-Discovery.