*rolls eyes* Ah, the "God created extension cords as exemplars of the ideal human relationship" theory. In this theory, I suppose, God created humans in his image in 1904, when electrical plugs were patented. (Though that too proves problematic: who then patented the plug?) Either that or Harvey Hubbell is an unknown prophet. Or (my favorite) this man is NUTS. I mean, does he seriously believe that the gay people will go "shit! You're right, if we were extension cords, you couldn't plug us together! Clearly we are not natural!" without then thinking "wait, neither are extension cords..."?
Rueben Israel, 43, of Los Angeles, flew in for the protest, knowing the homosexual families would attend the event. He demonstrated with electric cables how he saw those relationships as not being right in God's eyes.
"This doesn't work," he said, holding two yellow cables by their plugs and pushing them together.
He then turned one plug around so it would fit into the socket: "This works."
2. Yesterday I accumulated much good karma. I got into the train station downtown early, so I stopped by Reading Terminal to buy something for lunch, and ran into a huge group of junior high and high school students who were in town for some debate thing and had been given ten minutes in groups of five or more to find and eat breakfast. Ten minutes! At Reading Terminal, which is largely closed at eight am! *thwaps adults involved* Anyway, I was at Met Bakery when one of the adults came by with a kid in a wheelchair, looking for coffee and pastries, and I let them in front of me in line for the pastries and pointed them toward Old City Coffee. And then I ran into a group of kids wandering the aisles and saying things like "well, if I wanted raw tuna for breakfast..." and "maybe I'll just get some juice..." and pointed them toward Le Bus Bakery, and then encountered a third set of kids, with one boy playing the John Sheppard countdown role ("we have five minutes! we have four minutes and fifty seconds!") in order to encourage the others, and pointed them to Met Bakery and a smoothie place. And then more students! All in all, I spent fifteen minutes at Reading Terminal, most of it saying "okay, head down this aisle to the end and then turn left, continue up five aisles and you'll be at a coffee place..." Poor kidlets.
3. I have this Vorkosigan universe/Stargate Atlantis crossover in my head. No, I don't know either. See, it starts mid-sentence, with Miles and Gregor suddenly aware of where they are, and John's doing his "McKay, we'll be dead in thirty seconds!" thing over his shoulder, and Miles is trying to find out where they are and what's going on and who kidnapped them and shoving Gregor behind him and drawing his stunner, and Rodney's ignoring them except to say things like "yes, yes, you can thank me for saving your lives later" and "it was nothing, now shut up -- or, wait, better, go on, distract the man with the shield generator! that's a brilliant idea!" because he's not listening to a word Miles says, and John can't look at them because he's firing out the door but he's still all "argue later, McKay," and Gregor just looks bemused because it's the weirdest kidnap/assassination attempt ever, and then Rodney manages to rig the Random Ancient Equipment to protect them all just as the wraith dart self-destructs.
And then everyone yells for a while, and Rodney keeps trying to persuade them that he wasted valuable seconds beaming them out of the wraith dart so they wouldn't die, and John politely doesn't mention that it was sort of his idea, though he probably wouldn't have mentioned it if he'd known how tight the timing was going to be, and of course Miles is a paranoid bastard and doesn't believe a word of it because it can't be demonstrated, the wraith dart having kaboomed and buried them in the ruined ancient wossname until Teyla and Ronon can dig them out, and he introduces himself as Lord Miles Vorkosigan of Barrayar, and of course John and Rodney don't know where that is, which leads to another incredulous and loud-volumed digression before Miles finally says "... and this is my friend Greg" (because, while he thinks they kidnapped Gregor on purpose, he's not positive, and why risk it) and McKay says "and does he ever talk?" and Gregor has to stifle laughter and eventually they all agree to keep on with the paranoia but stop the yelling, especially because Miles can't see any way out of the ruins, but he and Gregor keep having strategy conversations in Barrayaran Greek and Rodney keeps making snide comments about how stupid they are that they can't even recognize rescue. And eventually they get to the stargate to go back to Atlantis, and Miles insists on going first and makes Gregor wait for his confirmation that it won't kill them, and oh my god you see what I mean?
I even know what kind of AR the Vorkosigan-verse is: it's one where the Ancients never made it to the Milky Way, so there are no stargates, just natural wormholes, and thus there are no Goa'uld manipulating Ancient technology. And then there are conversations about whether the mirror can take them back to a universe in which that same mirror doesn't exist, and Miles is still being a suspicious bastard, and so on.
Seriously. Where did this come from?
4. I saw a girl today wearing camouflage flip-flops. With heels. And a little camo-tassel. Very disconcerting.