Anger (noun): The righteous emotion experienced by a person when their civil rights are denied them.

Somebody today asked me why I was so angry about Proposition 8.

Am I angry? Yes, I'm fucking angry. Am I pissed off? Yes, I'm goddamned pissed off. I might go so far as to say that I'm feeling vengeful, even.

Here's why:

I am a citizen of the United States, of Maine, of Farmington. I have worked every summer from the age of 14 on (that's 8 years) and every school year from the age of 17 on (that's 5 years). I pay my Maine and Federal taxes every year. I vote in every local, state, and national election since I was 18, and I campaigned for the presidential election when I was 17 and couldn't vote. I've attended public schools and did pretty damn well in them. I've volunteered my time for political campaigns, at soup kitchens and car washes and even animal shelters. In short, I've paid my dues.
Do I have all the rights of a citizen? Hell no. Far from it. And the rights I DO have change depending on what state I'm living in.
The man who (kidnapped, beat, and raped more times than I can count) assaulted me, on the other hand--BECAUSE HE IS STRAIGHT--has MORE rights than I do.
Now those of you who think extending civil marriage rights to the LGBT community is wrong, those of YOU out there who count me as your friend, you sit there, and you give me a reason, one goddamned tiny fucking LEGAL reason, as to how this fact even remotely attempts to be close to JUSTICE.

Go ahead. Give me your reason. Give me your reason why I should be given less civil rights than a man who has admitted rape.

Then maybe I might not be so angry.