Dear Readers: This post has a gooey caramel center, but before I present it, let me make some general comments. If you don't want to read them, please skip to second half, because what I say there really matters to me.
Not surprisingly, my blog has become more Mormony since I moved to SLC. It's partly the constant reminders--the balcony of my stairwell is level with Moroni atop the temple, and I have a clear view of him every time I walk down the stairs--and partly that I can't help but be more familiar with certain elements of Mormon politics. I guess it's not just moving here--it's also Facebook, where I have lots of liberal and post-Mormon friends who post links to the latest crappy or interesting thing going on in Mormonland. I blog so much about Mormonism, in fact, that I sometimes fear I'm going to drive all my no-mo readers away. So if you're a no-mo reader, thanks for sticking with me. I promise to blog about something besides religion at least twice before 2010 ends.
In some ways it has been healing to be so familiar with churchy stuff. I used to find it really stressful to visit Temple Square (or Temple Rectangle as someone pointed out it should be called) but now it's just a place in my neighborhood with pretty gardens. But during weeks like this.... well, it has been a mixed bag.
This week, for instance, there was the BKP shit to deal with.
But there was also the protest in response, on October 7.
I was there. I walked down the street to Temple Rectangle and joined somewhere between 600 (police estimates) and 4,500 (organizer estimates) other protesters.* I saw families. I saw babies. I saw not that many people I knew. (Where WERE you guys? I know some of you had class or stuff, but what was up with the rest of you?) I hung with the Urban Koda and two of his offspring for a while.
Mostly I hung with my friend Sara, an atheist Unitarian with a strong sense of justice and a fascination with Mormons.