On My Honor

Having just returned from my (successful) Eagle Scout Board of Review, I should be basking in the triumph of a well-earned accomplishment. Instead, I am worrying and wondering, "What have I done?"

The BSA excludes homosexuals from its ranks, and has even fought to the Supreme Court for the right to so discriminate. I took this as a reason to actively not earn my Eagle, until I began to realize that I had as much a right to work toward it as any other Scout, and wanted it for many of the same reasons. Plus, as a friend of mine pointed out, "it would be a big 'up yours' to be an upstanding member, get the reward, and then turn around and say, 'By the way, I like boys!'" In any case, I thought I would try to prove that one can indeed be both gay and an excellent Scout, helping to further confirm the absurdity of the BSA policy. So I did the merit badges and project, and here I am, an Eagle. What I didn't consider is that my "up yours" to the BSA could be perceived as an "up yours" to the mentors and former Scout leaders who sat on my Board of Review tonight.

My coming out is a matter of time, for my own sanity. So, these men, some of them father figures to me over the years, will feel justifiably deceived when that happens, no? Duped, even betrayed, for having passed me off to the highest level of Scouting? My last question tonight was if I had "violated the law of the land;" I confessed that I had perhaps broken the speed limit here or there, but done nothing more serious than that. It was then explained to me, "We just don't want someone to get their Eagle this week if they're going to jail the next." "Especially with our signatures on it," someone added, indicating it was, to some degree, a matter of their personal reputation and judgment. I assured them I am a law-abiding citizen except, I said lightly, for the exceptions I mentioned. "It's more about moral things," the district advancement person said. "That is very, very, very serious..."


I pledged, on my honor, to "do my best to do my duty to God," even if it's not in the context of the LDS Church, but they may well interpret my leaving the Church as turning my back on God. I pledged to be "morally straight," not straight, but many of them will probably not see a difference.

So, how now do I come out without hurting these men? Will I be stripped of my Eagle status? Or will I effectively strip these men of their status, or at the very least damage the community's trust in their judgment?

Furthermore, for the past few weeks I've been going to church for the sole reason of Scout-related business. I've told my bishop, privately, that I will probably not always be apart of the Church. But the rest of the ward has no idea, so if I stop going to church now that I have my Eagle, will not my Young Men's leaders feel used and unfairly taken advantage of?

Yet I have neither desire nor reason to go to church (I'm certainly not being forced by my [inactive] mom); three hours of hurt because of my differing sexual and religious orientations confirmed that to me today (not to say I'm leaving because I've been "offended," but because my religious beliefs have changed, something I will post about soon, and because on a thousand levels I don't fit in--church attendance is not making me a better person in any way--and the truth is, I hardly consider myself Mormon, if at all, anymore). So, so long as it is a net negative experience for me, why should I feel compelled to continue going? I have as much desire and reason to attend a Catholic mass or a Baptist sermon as I do LDS services, even though I am fairly heavily invested in the ward...

I'll end by noting that this whole scenario is IMHO rather unfair--I should be able to be myself and earn my just rewards without worrying about things like this. But the reality is not so, and right now this is the reality I and other gay Scouts have to work with. Accordingly, any advice as to how I should proceed given these circumstances would be much appreciated!


Mehlman's Out

Another GOP family values warrior comes out as gay: former Bush campaign manager and RNC chairman Ken Mehlman. Good for him, I say, though I do wish he could have done something along these lines when his boss was enacting some of the most anti-gay policies in recent memory...



Happy (S)Halloween

A few weeks ago, I wrote the following (revised for clarity):

"This weekend I'm at a family reunion, and I'm realizing that for many of these people, this may be the last time they see closeted me. So, every I-love-you and compliment I receive is countered with the thought, If you knew the real me, would you still feel that way?

"Currently I feel like I'm loved despite who I am; what I want is to know that I am loved (or even not loved) *for* who I am."

(Thank you, by the way, to all of you who have done this--accepted and loved and appreciated me for who I am. It means the world to me:)

Today, as I registered for school and saw my friends for the first time in months, many of the same thoughts went through my head. The fact is, I'm ready to be loved--and despised--and admired--and rejected--for who I truly am. I'm ready to take the bad with the good; to paraphrase one of my favorite books (Sándor Márai's Embers), if one is liked by everyone, then one is a whore. It seems like, for so long, my goal has been to please/appease/placate everyone else, to the point of sacrificing my own well-being. Well, I am a whore no more. To quote Martha Beck, "Live your truth, losses be damned." That means you, friend who will act like I am a completely different person, and you, relative who will tell your kids to keep well away from me. I will somehow survive without your shining, saintly influence--somehow.

...Of course, I'm not all fire-breathing queer rage. I'm genuinely afraid of losing some of the people I love. But a decision based on fear, as an uncle of mine recently advised me, is not the right one. Besides, I need to be able to know--definitively--whether someone loves me or the concept of me he or she has created. As an anonymous quote goes, "It is better to be hated for who you are than to be loved for who you are not." And I am prepared to be hated (or at least, as prepared as one can be for such a thing).

Being nearly legally adult and still in the closet, I feel like a twentysomething trick-or-treater: the mask is just too small and painful and unnecessary to keep up the charade. And why do I still don this silly, unwieldy, unconvincing disguise? To be rewarded with the cheap treats of approval and maintenance of the status quo, to have my head patted by the religious and familial trick-or-treatees in my life. To really beat the analogy to death, then, I'm realizing that I don't need to stoop to this level anymore--the "fun-sized" bits of pseudo-validation have lost their appeal forever. I can be my own person--my own man, if I may be so bold as to gingerly try on the term; I can, in short, use my own abilities and my own merits to go and buy a king-sized candy bar, of my own choosing, whenever I damn well please!

(Please keep in mind that I can speak only to my own situation. We all have different paths and different circumstances, so please know that no one loses respect in my eyes simply because theirs is different than mine. If you are feeling offended or slighted right now, rest assured that I am not condemning or judging the decisions of anyone, except perhaps myself.)

So, I have one last door to knock on--I'm so close to the house giving away Eagle Rank bars that it wouldn't make sense for me to quit when one of the few prizes that approaches being worth it is nearly within my grasp*--and then it's off with the mask...forever. Next metaphorical Halloween, *I'll* be the one with the candy bowl.


*Some background: the BSA has fought to the Supreme Court (literally) to ban "avowed homosexuals" from its ranks, hence a moral quandary eventually resulting in my above resolution to not judge others' decisions.

Rainbow Vision

Noun. Syn. with "rainbow-colored glasses": a condition in which a gay man (or woman) perceives all men around him (or women around her)--especially those who are particularly attractive--as likewise gay. See 'wishful thinking.'


Rude Awakening

Dear Readers (if anyone still reads this blog),

It's been months since my latest post--I'm sorry it's been so long. Truth is, I haven't felt like much of a MoHo lately. It's the first half of the term: I have been exploring other "spiritual paths," and my religious beliefs have changed considerably over the past months. I needed some time for that process (which I will post more on later), so thank you for that.

However, the news of Todd Ransom's suicide has jolted me awake from my long reverie. Scott's post on the subject really hit me--and my conscience. Reading his thoughts I realized that no matter how un-Mormon I become religiously, a part of me will always be a MoHo, and I need that community--we need each other--and maybe there will be someone who might, at some point, need my help.

Like Scott, I didn't know Todd personally, but I know plenty of people who could have just as easily been him. As I'm in the Salt Lake area for the summer, I could have been at the vigil last night, but unfortunately didn't find out about it in time because of my absence from this community. I do regret missing out on that, and I hope next time I will be there for others. So please, consider me back.

Rest in peace, Todd.


Gay Pon Farr--Gone Too Far?

"Should I smile because we're friends, or cry because that's all we'll ever be?"

(I feel like doing the latter.):



Browsing MoHo blogs I came across this quote from the Personal Writings of Joseph Smith, 509:

"Our heavenly Father is more liberal in His views, and boundless in His mercies and blessings, than we are ready to believe or receive."

Then, as I was verifying the quote, I came upon the second half:

"...and at the same time more terrible to the workers of iniquity, more awful in the executions of His punishments, and more ready to detect in every false way, than we are apt to suppose Him to be..."

I am at a crossroads with basically everything--church, school, family, identity.  I suppose it's the age--as my mom says, "At 17 everyone is just trying to find who they are and where they fit in"--but being a gay/LGBT Mormon seems to add an extra dimension.

Already, people--family members, ward leaders, etc.--are asking about my mission.  I'll have to make a decision soon, especially as I try to arrange college.  And the scary thing is, I don't know.  A couple of years ago I was Peter Priesthood; now I don't know who I am, and no one else does, either.  Not too long ago I was visiting "inactives," but now I'm the one being hounded by the Priest Quorum advisor.

Am I straying?  Am I lost?  Have I been deceived by the "permissiveness of the world" (a popular phrase in today's GC session)?  Will I forever have to wonder about "what might have been"?  ("Of all sad words of tongue or pen..."--another conference favorite.)

I don't know where I stand with God.  Nor do I know which God to look to--the One "more liberal in His views, and boundless in His mercies and blessings, than we are ready to believe or receive" or the One "more terrible" and "awful" to the sinful than we would suppose.  On which hand do I stand?  In which direction am I going?   To what future should I look and act to bring about?

I wish I could put these things out of my mind, but I am running out of time.  There's a sense of--at risk of sounding too melodramatic--a sense of foreboding, and a sort of suffocating inevitability to all of this.


Family Tradition

"It is the tradition of their fathers that has caused their hatred...."
~Alma 60:32


Coincidence Followup

Disappointing news regarding my last post: my mother positively forbade me from talking about Stuart in my devotional or coming out at all, and for now I've no choice but to accept this.  I'd rather not talk a whole lot about it.  I'm not terribly angry with my mom so please don't feel the need to comment in her defense.

• • • • • • •

I think I need to take a little blogging break.  I may chime in here or there on your blogs, but I'll be otherwise under the radar. 

...Not for too long, though :)


No Such Thing as Coincidence (?)

Wow. Yesterday I read that February 25, 2010 will be the 10th anniversary of Stuart Matis's suicide. Today in Seminary, I checked the class calendar to see when my upcoming devotional was. I had unwittingly signed up for February 25, 2010.

Is there such a thing as a coincidence?

What gets me is not only the coincidence of the dates, but also the fact that this comes at a time when I am already seriously considering coming out. Just thinking about it makes me nervous, confused, scared, and exhilarated. It would be so characteristic of me to talk about coming out, say I'm not ready 'just yet', plan to do it 'someday' when I am ready, and then never go through with it. Maybe this date, this highly improbable 'coincidence', happened so that I have a concrete window, a 'perfect opportunity', to take the plunge. If you've been reading this blog for a while you know that I like/want/need to be absolutely 100% sure about things, but I'm finding that, frustratingly, life is rarely that simple. What I desire is certainty; what I need is faith. So, I think I will try to find a quiet place to spend some time deep in thought and prayer this weekend.

And then I will seek to follow the Spirit and my heart.


"Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase." ~Dr Martin Luther King, Jr


MoHo Microcosm

Thursday, in Seminary: For the past several weeks (and days, in particular) I had been seriously considering whether it was time to come out. Just as I was feeling that it was time for action, the girl who sits behind me passed a note up asking to speak with me after class...and before I knew it I'm going with her to a Valentine's Day dance. I'm sure it'll be fun, and I'm sort of looking forward to it, but I do feel a bit disingenuous.


As I said, I am strongly considering coming out. I don't see any net benefits to staying closeted longer. It would be difficult to be openly gay in a fairly narrow high school, but I wouldn't be the only one. There are others who are out at my school, and others who will be out in the future. While I could stay within the (seemingly) safe confines of the closet, what about tomorrow's gay students--especially those who are also LDS? I'd like to think that my coming out could help foster positive change for them, so, I can do my part to maintain the status quo through inaction, or do what I can to change attitudes for the better. While I do not overestimate my (very limited) ability to influence anyone, I cannot simply shrug and say that people will be more accepting tomorrow--because they won't, unless there is action today. As Martin Luther King said, "Change does not roll in on the back of inevitability, but comes through continuous struggle."


Everyone likes being liked, but for closeted gay people, it is often tainted by the insecurity "If you really knew me...", the worry that admirers would be scorners if they knew the truth. As an anonymous quote says, "It's better to be hated for who you are, than to be loved for someone you are not." I've tried the latter, and now I'm ready to risk the former.


Some may advise me not to come out when I have been so unsure of my orientation. My sexuality has indeed been somewhat ambiguous; however, I think this is more common than I was led to believe. I have read that it is quite normal to see a two year period between the realization that one is not heterosexual and the definite claiming of an orientation. Knowing this, I'm not sure the discovery and exploration of my sexuality has been all that unusual. Moreover, I think that it is probably because the fact of my homosexuality didn't occur to me at a young age that I was able to develop self-assurance that would help me in the coming out process now. In other words, the ambiguity I've experienced, far from being a reason not to come out, is one of the main reasons I feel I could.

Others may warn that I will be limiting my options in life, and there is truth in that. To respond I go back to the ongoing story of the St. Valentine's dance...


Earlier today we made arrangements to pick out the corsage and...boot-thing. Sometime after school I met her and her family at the floral shop. I'm not sure why they came along, but they did, and I was fine with it. I shook their hands, but I was already feeling like a fraud. As we picked something out, I began to feel, on a miniscule level, a tiny bit of what a mixed-orientation relationship might be like for me. Don't get me wrong, I know this is just a silly high school dance, but in a small way it seemed like a microcosm what the situation might be like for me: She took the initiative, not me; I felt untrue, in a way, to both her and myself; my knowledge of flowers was more extensive than hers; etc... (Just kidding on the last one there :)

The hardest thing was her dad. He was a really nice guy. And he was happy. He seemed pleased with me and pleased that his daughter was going to a dance. At one point he put his hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eye, and something inside told me I was just wrong. It's such a small thing, but I realized then what I knew all along: that I would not marry a woman. I don't want to, can't do this on an eternal scale--that was the thought that came to me as I shook her dad's hand.


With regards to my closet status, I will pray fervently and think carefully before moving forward. But in the end that is usually what coming out is: a move forward. There are always a thousand reasons not to do something, but I resolved at the beginning of this year to not let my fears obstruct my way forward. They are warranted, to some degree (there likely is rejection and misunderstanding in store), but life requires us to take risks. I have allowed fear to paralyze me for most of my life, and this time, I intend to follow the advice of a book written to help people move beyond their misgivings:

feel the fear...and do it anyway


Klein Grid

Taking the Kinsey Scale a step forward: the Klein Grid. It's a measure of sexuality used in psychology, I understand, which Mme. Curie mentioned in a recent post.

I completed a self-administered version of it at www.kleingridonline.com. Some of the questions weren't exactly applicable to me (such as sexual history), but I did the best I could. Also tricky was fairly evaluating the past (since I've only been out to myself for a short while) and my ideal future (since I'm really unsure about that). But I think it's a fairly helpful tool overall. It basically confirms what I've been feeling lately--that I need to accept my homosexuality and move on with things.


Jan: Types & Stereotypes

Ok, it's the last day of January, so I'm going throw up my (rather disjointed) thoughts about Abe's alternative theme: stereotypes and "gay-/straight-acting".  An excellent topic and one I have long thought about.

My first thought was of a time we visited my missionary grandparents in Nauvoo.  I was eleven or twelvish then, and at that point it had never so much as crossed my mind that I might be gay.  Someone was recording with a video camera; later, the recording was played, but I couldn't see the screen.  I heard the audio, though, and one distinct voice in particular--a voice that instantly caused me to wonder, "Whoa, who's the queer?"  I came over to look at the video and to my amazement saw that the voice that had stuck out so wretchedly emanated from my...self.  This happens regularly when I hear a recording of my voice--I am struck by how gay I sound!  (Of course, part of it is just the way a machine records, but still...)  So, I don't judge people for their outward gayness.  If someone comes off as very effeminate, it's possible that they're 'acting' but much more likely they'e expressing their true selves.  If people are quiet or loud, outgoing or introverted, energetic or unenthusiastic, we accept it as merely part of who they are.  I don't see how this is any different; the animosity between 'femme' and 'butch' is a feud I have never understood. 

As for myself, I embrace neither label.  How I act depends largely on my surroundings.  Am I comfortable?  Do I trust the people I'm with?  What about mood?  (I'm more likely to be passed off as gay when I'm in a high mood.)  If these factors do not align it's more likely that I'll hide behind my usual mask.


In the prompt, Abe asked about the God Loveth His Children reference about 'bringing attention' to one's 'challenges'.  I have always taken issue with advice that tells us to hide our true selves and pretend to be something we're not. It implies that who we are is shameful, ignominious--not exactly a psychologically beneficial mindset.

It is true, though, that in some ways, out people have as much pressure to conform to gay stereotypes as closeted people to straight stereotypes. Either way, it's easy to get pushed around by people's expectations, but the key is the cliché but true 'be yourself'--experience and present yourself to the world in the way you are most comfortable.


As If My Own Issues Weren't Enough...

A while ago I was at a Logan fireside when I met an older MoHo who repeatedly lamented, 'I wish I'd known about this [support system] earlier" (he was quite new to the MoHo scene).  His frustration echoes back to me when I see guys my age who are likely Family--one fellow in particular.  'Does he think he's the only one, as many of us often have?' I wonder. 

Maybe he'll marry a woman and wreck a family (or perhaps, have a successful--if difficult--marriage).  Maybe he doesn't see 'the relation' yet.  Maybe my gaydar's completely off and I could end up humiliating him.  Maybe he'll suffer needlessly, not knowing of the options and support available to him.  Maybe he'll spend half his life in denial.  Or, maybe he'll end his life.

The ice is so thin here I suppose the only thing I can do is be a good friend, eventually come out to him (if it feels like the right thing to do), and leave the ball in his court.

And if some of you are questioning my motives, I assure you they are pure, though the thought did cross my mind...


Another Sunday on the Back Row

Today I came to church to collect some information from my Scoutmaster. I'm close to earning my Eagle--too close to not get it now. However, as upheld by the Supreme Court, the BSA has the right to exclude homosexuals from its membership. Essentially, the coveted Eagle rank is keeping me in the Church and the closet. Call me a coward, I don't want to run 90% of the race and then turn back on the last leg. I hope to be finished with it very soon.

* * *

During Sacrament I noticed a little girl a couple of rows in front of me reading a book called 'What Makes a Rainbow?'

...Maybe someday she and the rest of tomorrow's Mormons will find, face, and embrace the answer to that question.


Back Row Update

In light of a recent and relevant weighty event in my life, I'm following up the previous post with another.

First, thank you for your comments. I so appreciate your thoughtful and supportive remarks. Right now, every option is on the table for me. I'm not closing my mind to Temple marriage, a gay relationship, or celibacy at this point. I support fellow MoHos in whatever they decide is right for them.

Also, while I do have a few differences with the LDS Church (such as the nightmare that was Prop8), I believe in the Gospel and love the Church on the whole. One commenter, a disaffected member of the Church, posted his view of disillusion with the Church, and that's fine with me. My entire post was something of a gripe about the Church, and I understand that some of these issues (amongst others) can cause a member to leave the Church. Some feel it is best to ignore these things--putting them on the religious 'shelf'--and I fully understand this as well (the reason for my little warning before launching into my back row quibbles). However, I personally do tend to confront these things (for better or worse) while still keeping in mind the easy possibility of intellectualizing oneself out of the Church. While I would never presume to pass judgment on another's religious beliefs, I do take great comfort in the Gospel, and see the Church as a vehicle for it. As such, I do value my membership.

With all these ideas whirling around in my head, I thought it a bitter irony when someone I'm very close to told me they do not have a testimony. We talked about it; the person claimed to have never had a real belief in the Gospel. I bore my testimony, but it did little.

In some ways the situation is a mirror that shows a slightly altered version of my own position. Again I find myself wondering about the eternal consequences of leaving the Church... And how I have no problem with atheists, but when a person I'm close to comes out as one, it's a bit...different (which is similar to my mother's reaction when I came out as gay)...

It's a lot to think about. I find myself deeply saddened by this person's disbelief. (It gives me reason to evaluate my own future with (or without) the Church.) I feel so devastated by this because I worry about this close friend's happiness and everything else that's at stake.

A bit hypocritical of me? I'm not sure--I just want the best for this person.


Thoughts From the Back Row

Went to church Sunday for the first time in a while, and as I sat on the last row of metal folding chairs, a few things occurred to me.  [This may not, by the way, be a great post to read if you are having testimony trouble.  I should note here that I have a testimony of the Gospel and the Church, but I do see a difference between the two and believe that the Church's leaders are mortal men who have to struggle to find the Truth, just as we do.]

-Had I been born blind, would I have a different idea of my sexuality than I do now?

-Both Alan and Abelard have recently blogged about something I too have long felt: presently the Church has no place for us--culturally, theologically, what have you.  Heavenly Father does, but clearly the Church does not: to Church teachings a gay Mormon is a pesky counterexample, an inconvenient loose end that doesn't neatly fit into our current understanding of God's Plan.  The Church simply doesn't know how to explain or what to do with us, as evidenced by its erratic and contradictory counsel for its gay members and their families.

-Homosexuality affects an estimated one in every four families in the Church, and probably 2-5% of members are gay.  You'd think that the Church would be pretty clear about an issue that far-reaching (any other issue that prevalent would likely be a common theme for GenConference talks).  But in actuality "SSA" is rarely mentioned, much less discussed.  When it is, there's no guarantee it will be accurate or Christian (the Hafen talk and Elder Oaks's advice to parents of gay children come to mind).  Frankly, this is because 1, the Church clearly does not yet have the full truth on the matter (see above), and 2, they don't want people to see their cluelessness.  Imagine what would happen if the entire Church was aware of its meandering record on homosexuality (from instant excommunication to conditional membership, electro-shock to celibacy, reparative therapy marriage to discouragement of MOM, choice to unchosen, curable to 'possibly not overcomable', et al).  In other words, the Church stays (relatively) quiet to save face, and when parents, families, and bishops are left to their own devices (that is, prejudices and ignorance), who pays the price?  Sorry if I seem resentful, but it is what it is.  We're talking lives here--which state, again, has the most suicides among men 19-24? 

-That being said, maybe I've actually caught a gigantic break here.  While I don't see marriage to a woman any great prospect, I'm under no delusions that a gay relationship would be a picnic, either.  Judging from the kind of son and brother I am now, I don't know if I would be a good father or husband (to a man or a woman).  Sometimes I think I've seen all of marriage I want to--that I'm actually lucky to be one of the few Mormons off the hook, if you'll allow me to be so bold.  I know I speak from profound inexperience here, but maybe celibacy wouldn't be so terrible for me.  I like being alone, I would have the Church, I could have my dogs and maybe some neices and nephews.  I realize I'd have to be married in the next life, but hopefully I won't be resurrected as a psychopath.    :) 
[...This is partially tongue in cheek, of course, but partially my genuine feeling on the subject.]


Uneasiness Follow-Up

Several weeks ago I reported I'd been "feeling uneasy lately, like there's thick, black smoke in my stomach". I thought that it was guilt, a signal that I was on spiritual thin ice. While that may still be the case, I doubt that was the underlying cause here (seeing as if it were guilt relating to homosexuality, it would follow an action, and as a reader pointed out, I haven't actually done anything there). So tonight I have a more likely finding.

I believe this "thick, black smoke" is not internal but inhaled, so to speak: my home is polluted in a way, and it's little wonder I should feel the effects of it after a couple of years. This probably seems obvious, but when you're surrounded by something long enough, it becomes regrettably unremarkable.

But now it is obvious, even to me. One clear sign is that I didn't really have this pit in my stomach when I was at school or otherwise out and about. Before, I supposed that this was because the distractions of the world were 'blocking out' my conscience. Now I see that when I'm engaged in school and other activities away from home, I'm able to forget about the problems that I sometimes find there. It follows that it began to feel like a permanent ailment because I spend most of my non-school time at--where else for the scholaholic with no social life?--my house.

As if I don't have enough inner turmoil as a gay Mormon, I'm conflicted with my feelings toward my mom. At times I feel angry over wrongs (perceived or real), and at times I feel compassion for a mother of two who's been through a lot. Most of the time I feel an uncomfortable combination of the two, and I think this 'mixed state' contributes to the dis-ease I often feel.

So...I'm looking forward to college. (As one perceptive reader suggested, I'm looking for one at least a state away!) I'm focusing on the future and all that I have to live for. And most of all I'm hopeful, because now that I can clearly see this knot, I can finally start untying it.

P.S. I know I can occasionally wax melodramatic, but please know that this is not a call for pity. While like all families we have our problems, we also have some wonderful times together. I would describe my home situation as the typical 21st century American fam-damn-ily, and if I went into more detail than that most people would roll their eyes and waste no time filing my case into the 'So what?' category. That is where it belongs, honestly, so for a truly sad situation that really does deserve our attention and hearts, I would direct you to the Blog (RED) badge at right. :)