School

  • Never let it be said that timeliness is my strong suit. Alright, answers to the questions asked of me.

    @under_the_carpet asked:

    ok. I don't know how to exactly put it into a question. But I always wanted to know more about your faith. It'll be a few.
    I read you identify as catholic. To make it simple for me...WHY?
    How "gnostic"/agnostic are you?
    what do you do/think/feel when you stumble upon a 'rule' you actually disagree with? (or does that not happen?...I can't imagine.)
    How do you 'solve' the god vs gay question in your head, that I see so many people struggle with?

    Oh dear, you have asked a very complex and lengthy question that I'm not entirely sure I know all of the answer to. I was going to do a post trying to articulate some thoughts I've been developing on this very topic but, despite the many times I start, I haven't been able to bring anything to completion. Perhaps this may be a start.

    As I've said numerous times in a multitude of places, most of my friends (or, at least, the ones I have generally most felt comfortable around or the greatest intellectual connection with) have been atheists. The Midwest region of the United States is home to a wide range of Christian denominations with an inclination to groups such as evangelicals and fundamentals. The Chicago-land area is, thankfully, a little less strong in the general social acceptance of these groups but the influence and individuals are there just around the surface (as I'm pretty sure I've mentioned at least once in a post this year). Mauger whatever changes I've had in my personal beliefs (regardless of spirituality) and religious beliefs over the years, I think there's been a constant that I've felt safer amongst the irreligious; maybe that's because my sexuality has always made me unable to feel fully accepted in most religious circles; maybe, as I said, it's because I've had more in common, generally; maybe other reasons or all of the above.

    In college, I had doubts about the idea of God/s. While I've tossed out the fact casually a total of about five times since, I generally don't talk about that time period. I wasn't particularly happy there (though I'm sure there are many who eventually become atheists that feel the same feeling). The end result, however, was that I came to discover that I was far more strongly a religious person than even I had realized. For whatever reason, I tend to be inclined to the religious (as a concept, not the people, mind you); this was deafeningly clear to me when I was questioning whether to become an atheist. There are certain things which trigger off a sort of this-is-right-or-righteous-or-even-holy feeling for me; while I tend to value reason over feeling, I've found that particularly strong feelings tend to indicate something I think but haven't been able to put into rational words yet. The idea may be wrong but it's informative to know, generally, so I'll tuck it away and chew on it over time. There is a particular feeling I get when I encounter something I feel is fundamentally correct in a way. For example, I get that feeling when talking about governments and the freedom of religious belief. I don't know what to make of these feelings yet but I've found I also have them during religious experiences. This will be important later.

    You ask how agnostic I am (Gnosticism is an entirely particular belief system that I've found fascinating, flirted with, but ultimately leave not feeling inclined to join). Ever since I seriously contemplated the question (whenever that may've been), I've been of the firm belief that, given the information that we have at this moment in time (and, admittedly, given the You-can-do-ANYTHING quality we tend to ascribe to God), anyone who can say – with zero doubt – that there is or is not a God/s has lost all intellectual currency ze may have had in my eyes.

    Many atheists describe themselves as skeptics. I find that it's my skepticism that allows my religious belief. I simply cannot believe, with all that remains left unknown about the universe, that we can so soundly rule out the idea of God/s. Of course, any truly rational atheist would tell you that the degree of evidence inclining that there exists some supernatural being of the sort often described is outweighed by the evidence indicating that there is no such being; ze simply chooses to go with the more believable option. And that's fair; I'd be inclined to wager that atheists have a more sound argument, really. Still, I find myself religious.

    I do think part of it has to do with the fact that I tend to be a moral absolutist. Maybe it's also the fallout of being a rationalist. Everything has an answer. It may be complex and vary by certain conditions but everything can eventually be explained in a concrete way. When I first joined Williams Secular Community and we went around the room having each person say something that ze believed in, I wanted – as the sole religious person in that room – to say something other than "I believe in God" or something of that stripe. What I eventually decided on was "Perfect reason/logic is infallible". There is one vague bit to it, obviously. "Perfect logic" would seem to indicate that there is no contradiction or breaking of logical rules. The issue is, if you don't have information about something, you can't make certain deductions (e.g. if all you know about the sun and the moon is that they're round, you may say, "Sun = Moon," but that clearly isn't correct). So part and parcel to this idea is that all information relating to the subjects involved is considered and known.

    But I bring it up because I think it is indicative of my thinking process. To speak vaguely and allow variance until I have a greater understanding, I believe in a notion of Truth. We live in a reasonable and logical universe. It's a curious thing that there are even laws to our world, particularly if there is no creator; certainly it's not impossible for such world to exist without a creator (we would be the evidence) but it is curious. And I think, more so than the notion of a God existing, I have a need to believe that there is a sort of universal Truth that we can all reference and aspire to. I need order and I need logic; it doesn't have to be intellectually created (in the conversations I've had with my brother over the idea of an absolute morality, there has been some pretty fantastic discussions over the notions of systems (something that's a fascination of my own); assuming that there is no God, it's rather interesting the way that systems have been able to crop up naturally in our world and the way they sustain themselves in spite of it seeming they would need a designer). But, for whatever reason, I need to believe there is an order to the universe and a way that is proper to act in the same way we "all" acclaim the notion of freedom of speech for proper governments or believe in and celebrate the capabilities and self-belief in humanity as exercised through the government of a republic or believe in the great works and arts over time or believe in great ideas and celebrate philosophy. The greatest thought process that Western civilization ever accomplished was the notion that ideas could be ordered by logic and, by extension, you could come to finite conclusions about things, that not every single idea was necessarily correct. For better or for worse, I truly believe this.

    I tend to think that the notion of a Creator best explains this but, as I've mentioned, I do not necessarily think that has to be the case. To sort of put it another way and in relation, I once said on here, "If anything must be told about my spirituality, let it be said that intelligence was my religion, and education, my worship." If anything was ever to be described as my religious belief, it is these notions. Most everything else is debatable.

    Of course, none of that really explains "Why Catholicism?" (oh dear, this is probably going to take a while – but you asked the question). There was a moment, one time, when I was with my sister (and in a somewhat giddy and snarky mood) when I remarked (and, no, I don't recall what excited this remark), "The Evangelical believes that the root of all things tie back to God and, due to this, we ought to worship Him; all reasoning proceeds from thus and it is all he or she pursues. The Catholic, however, seeks Truth."

    For those (generally those who tend to have a thing against Catholicism) who might take that to insinuate that God is not important to Catholics, I would easily respond that, of course, Catholics believe all things proceed to and from God but that is merely a portion of the Truth.

    To somewhat explain my snark* and to provide another example, I have a very dear friend of mine who grew up in a very fundamentalist, evangelical town (though, really, she's  not the first friend I've had who's had a very negative experience in such an environment); as someone who was remotely agnostic (her parents are Unitarians), most of her time there was having people trying to convert her, feeling continually judged, and just pretty much being treated poorly (by my own standards, at the very least). By the time she got to college (thus where I met her), she was a fairly bitter, hard-line atheist. I forget the exact details of the story but she overhead (somewhere) an eventual mutual friend of ours mention that he was Catholic (maybe it was some orientation event?); shortly after, she cornered him on a bus the group was riding and, without much ceremony, immediately started grilling him regarding religious belief and why it was positively ridiculous to have any.

    During this, she asked him, "Well, I don't believe; does this mean I'm going to Hell?" to which, with some confusion, he responded, "No." This took her a bit by surprise; as far as she had ever been taught, this was what religion boiled down to: believe or perish. So she asked, "You don't?" After a moment of hesitation, his response was, "I believe Catholicism is the best way but not the only way."

    One more example. There's a book my mother has somewhere upstairs either written by or written about the pastor of the mega-church my aunt attends. On the back of the book, in large letters prefacing the book summary, is a quote that says, "People matter to God; therefore, they should matter to us," (or something of the like). Fundamentally, such a notion could only occur from one who takes the Evangelical path to logical reasoning (okay, that's not entirely true but quite frequently). In contrast to this, I think it was Pope Benedict who said that sex purely for pleasure, even in the confines of a relationship, is selfish because the other person is, thus, neglected. I, ultimately, disagree with His Holiness's proof but there's still a marked difference between the two forms of reasoning. The pope tries to give a reasoned response and justification. The pastor has just said, "Well, God says so."

    While I've explained "Why Religion" for me, I think the best explanation for "Why Catholicism" is simply that, for all its flaws and pitfalls, Catholicism is the closest thing to what I want in a religion here on Earth.

    And I think that, in particular, is what most people don't get when they suggest for Catholics to convert to elsewhere. Protestantism, as a whole, is not really an avenue because I simply do not believe in being saved by Faith. I could probably be alright with a holy book inerrancy sort of deal but not with the sort of limiting views that that tenet is often taken to; I am always brought to appreciate more greatly that Catholics have Tradition and the Magisterium to pull from to better understand the Bible.

    While the more liberal Protestant branches are probably more to my own political persuasion, I often find that the conservative criticism that, for them, "anything goes" holds true. It's very important to me that what you do is purposeful and fully thought out. I don't want to join a church simply because that was how I was raised and I want that special feeling (though, of course, that can be important). I want to make sure that, if my bible says it's okay to rape women, I have an actual response as to why that is. There was a liberal church in the middle of the campus of my college that was very awesome; they often worked with the Queer Student Union on campus, were very involved in social justice, etc. Being part of the QSU and InterFaith, I also worked with them. During conversation one time, the pastor mentioned that the church had been so focused on social justice (I believe that may have been the reason for their founding) that they've been trying to sort of rediscover their roots; while on this path, she mentioned that they were discovering all sorts of new things (as any root-searching should entail), including that there were parts of the bible they found they didn't particularly like. For me, dealing with those sorts of things would be where I'd build my base from.

    People often assume that it's the High Church and elaborate liturgy I like and often suggest the Episcopalians or some of the Lutherans. But what these fail to realize are the ways in which Catholicism itself is quite unique. I'll see if I can do it any justice in trying to point it out.

    I doubt I'll really explain it well but, if any religion could claim the title, you could argue that Catholicism is wedded to intellectualism. Perhaps extremely influenced by Roman and Greek culture (i.e. the Hellenic culture that had culminated by the time of the Roman empire), many in the early church philosophied about their religion (it's probably what earned religion the title of Queen of the Sciences). It's why they came to believe that God made the world ex nihilo (out of nothing): if God had to stoop to making the world out of existing material, that means there are things which even God couldn't control/do, etc. which would make Him less than an ultimate God. They attempted to apply the philosophy (much to many other denomination's dislike) of Plato/Aristotle. When the empire fell, a lot of the books and records were kept safe by monks. This often means that the theology of Catholicism is so much more elaborate and complex and, in turn, deep. God gave us a brain: "We ought to use it" is the answer of Catholicism.

    Once (I think when a televangelist came on the T. V.), I remarked to my brother, "I don't think I could ever stand worshiping in a religion that didn't have a liturgy." Of course, my smart-ass atheist brother responds, "I don't think I could ever stand worshiping in any religion." Maybe it's because I'm a writer and English major but I take symbolism and gestures very seriously. Naturally, liturgy is very cool to me (and also very beautiful; have you heard the chants Catholics and the Orthodox have churned out?). And, to a degree, I really like ritual. I'm not entirely sure why. The Catholic response is that, when we worship, we should worship with more than just our minds: the entire bodies ought to be involved in the process.

    And the last way I can attempt to let you understand "Why Catholicism" is the Catholic conception of the Church. I don't know how familiar with Christian theology you are but the idea of the Church is important to the religion. After the Protestant Reformation, the idea of what the Church is was to be understood as the body of Christian believers. This is partially, I think, why you have so many denominations and a lot of people feel comfortable (in the U. S., at least; I've heard it's a phenomenon frequent to us) church hopping: go the Methodists one week, go the Lutherans another Sunday.

    For Catholics, we believe that the Church is the institution founded by Christ and as it exists today. But the Church is more than just an institution. It is the body of Catholic believers but also an instrument through which the Holy Spirit works. The pope doesn't get infallibility because we decided we wanted to listen for the rest of our lives to whatever an elected member had to say. The pope is infallible because (in theory) God the Spirit is working through him and guiding him as He is working through the entire Church.

    You might respond with, "So what?" The significance of this is that God is active constantly through the institution that you reside in. It is not just that you're attending church; you are in the Church. It's for this reason that the Sacraments (Baptism, Confession, Marriage) can make sense to us while it just confuses other denominations as a pathway for Grace. It's not just actions being performed, they are actions being performed by and in the Church; it is God working through us. In a real physical way, God is presenting Himself before us.

    And with that, there's this real sense of security I have as a Catholic that goes beyond just belonging to an organization that is huge. Anytime I go to a Catholic Church, I know any Sacrament I may receive is valid and facilitated by God, regardless of who is giving me the Sacrament and their past. I think that's also why a lot of Catholics have remained Catholic in spite of the scandal and abuse recently: there are terrible people in our Church, as in all institutions, but they are not all of what the Church is. The Church spans across generations and is more than that. We would rather call for greater accountability and try to call for prosecution from within rather than ever leave the Church.

    When I was younger and dealing with the fact that there were certain attitudes within Catholicism that I didn't quite agree with, I'd take comfort in the fact that something like 60% of Catholics didn't obey what came from the Vatican. But, in a real way, we never stopped being Catholics. We still attended Mass, went to Sunday or Catholic schools, socialized in the circles, prayed in the same buildings, went to confession under the same priests. I don't think I understood it then but the reason I could find such strength inside those Cathedral walls while fragrantly disregarding the hierarchy was because, I knew, we were right. And in the end, that's what God cares about (Catholicism is about finding Truth). And we were safe within His halls of His Church. Frankly, the only other religion I can think of with anything close to such a concept is Mormanism.

    And I guess that's a good place to address your question of what do I do if I come across something I don't agree with. In technicality…there isn't anything. And part of this stems from the fact that most people don't understand how Church doctrine is formed. All that which is declared infallible and dogma is binding. Anything less is decreasing levels of required adherence but not anything which cannot change in the future.

    So, for example, I believe Purgatory has been dogmatically defined. You can't be a Catholic if you don't believe in Purgatory. However, while the hierarchy's position at the moment is that homosexuality is "severely disordered" (as in against the order of the universe), it is not something dogmatically defined yet. To a certain degree, I like this because it gives us a stable base from which build knowledge and keep unified. Someone like Curtis (who I really rarely agree with) and I can talk about something pertaining to Catholicism and be entirely on the same level because we both are Catholic.

    And I think the last thing I'll mention as to why I'm a Catholic is that, as far as I can see, Catholicism is the only religion that still seems to be growing. Most religions really tie themselves to the idea that nothing will ever change about them; they will always honor their past. Which, to be honest, is true of Catholicism (kinda hard not to be when it's a religion that uses Tradition as an authoritative source). But Catholicism doesn't change in that whatever it declares dogma can never be revised; other religions never change in the sense that everything they've done in the past is all they'll ever do (I once had someone who was Orthodox tell me that the Orthodox have it right because they've changed nothing since (I think…) the Forth Council; Catholicism, on the other hand, comes out with a new dogma "every two years"). The idea of Catholicism is that the Truth is never changing – we just don't know all of it yet; over time, we gain a greater and greater insight into what that Truth is. Which, really, is the basic idea of discovery. But it means that really interesting things happen and not everything is quite understood. For example, we know that, for whatever reason, the Sacraments were established for transmuting Grace and that Baptism redeems the soul of the Original Sin. And yet current thought within the Church is that people who haven't been baptized can be saved. After all, what about babies that die before the chance to be baptized? I don't believe the idea of Limbo has been entirely thrown out yet but you don't have many clamoring towards the idea. So, if you can be saved without baptism…what's the point of baptism?

    As far as I know, the Church's answer is that we don't know. We'll eventually know. But not yet.

     

    All that said, I'd be lying if I said that Catholicism is everything I want. While women ordination and homosexuality haven't been dealt with as dogma yet, either of those being dogmatically banished would probably force me to have to find another religion. There's the fact that the notion of preparing for shabbat has always elicited that feeling of something being *right* in me…and I had never prepared for shabbat until I had reached college.

    And there's the real troubling fact that Christianity tends to start from this path of "We're all guilty". It's true that Catholicism does a bit better in being firm that the Original Sin is not a sin for which any of us are at fault for (even if we still bear the scar upon our souls) but there is a *real* problem that I have with this notion of guilting ourselves (at its worse, I've seen people make the argument that none of us deserve Heaven, even just-born babies).

    The New Testament is actually rather interesting in terms of its political stances and the ways it tries to reverse common norms (the most well known one being the notion of the weak/meek being powerful/"the stone that the builder rejected"). And so it goes with the notion of works. Yeah, being good? Throw out everything you thought you ever had to do. You actually have absolutely *no way* of doing it without Him.

    Which, in a way, I get. It's the ultimate type of trust exercise. Throw out any expectation of your abilities and your capability to do anything and just entirely trust that He's got this.

    What I absolutely hate about this notion is that, when you take away a sense of responsibility and choice in the direction of your life, it's hard to really impart a sense of…awareness in people. I earnestly think this is why my friend who grew up around fundamentalists was treated so amazingly poorly. Those people have ceased entirely thinking about any of the actions they're committing and how they're treating her; in their minds, the most important thing is you follow Jesus (BECAUSE NOTHING ELSE MATTERS) and, if you don't follow Him, you're breaking the cardinal rule. And that's the scope of their thoughts. You can't get to "Well, let's think about how you're treating her" because, literally, nothing else matters beyond whether or not you're following that rule of believing in Jesus. Anything outside of it is wrong. Why? Because anything we do outside of trusting entirely in God and getting others to do so as well is irrelevant. Irrelevant.

    And I get that, in some way, it was trying to respond to a sort of legalism that was cropping up and the sort of people who do good just to look good. But I really think that when you start from a point of "You are disordered without Me", you endue this real sense of inferiority in individuals. I truly believe a just God doesn't tell you you're shit so you better believe in Me (but that's gonna be difficult too 'cause, you know, you're disordered) but tries to build the individual up. Let's stop focusing on following this one inane rule (and worrying about all the suffering you'll get otherwise) and instead focus on the fact that you're not entirely terrible (but wonderful in many ways) and that doing better and being a better person is important because it'll make you better and it's important to treat others well. The important thing is NOT how many times you fail but how much closer you are to making the world a better place because, really at the end of the day, it's every one that's important.

    I do think Catholicism is a bit better at this; a lot of denominations disagree with it because Catholicism teaches that you can lose your salvation even if you believe in God: your actions are of important. Still, there are some strains of serious guilting and "Forgive us Lord because we are so unforgivable!" that I find to really be just unhealthy and abusive habits.

    I also sometimes have to remind myself that our understanding changes. It was once understood that "There is no salvation but within the Church" meant within Catholicism but it's now understood as the Church being tied to that notion of the Truth; Catholicism is the best path but not the only one. That's a big change in meaning though the dogma didn't change at all. So who knows.

     

    Anyway, if you don't find religion interesting, all of that must've been terribly tedious and boring and I apologize. I'll answer your last question further below since Danni asked a similar one.

     

    @XxbutterflyknivesXx asked:

    You've indicated on Facebook, and partly here, that you strongly support the LGBTQ movement...and a lot of the time people support movements because they've experienced struggle...is there's a story behind it? Do you identify as a different sexuality than hetero/are you closes to someone who does?

    Man, you guys go straight for the meaty questions. I should be able to keep this one shorter than the last answer.

    I've always firmly believed that it shouldn't have to take personal involvement to be passionate about something. Caring about others should be something that we just do. The two examples I usually bring up is that I've never self-injured or been Trans and yet I'm supportive of these communities (though, to be fair, a good portion of my ex-girlfriends and friends have had histories of self-harm and an ex-boyfriend and friends of mine have been Trans). I've never quite understood that notion of "Well, it doesn't affect me, so why should I care?" I tend to make decisions constantly by thinking from others perspectives and trying to think who I might be disadvantaging with a particular decision; it always catches me off-guard when others don't do that (and it's usually pretty obvious pretty quickly when someone is making a decision based off their own interest and clearly haven't considered anyone else's) though I suppose that's naïve of me.

    I do identify as bisexual (though I suppose the ex-boyfriend part above may've given that away). But, at the time that I really jumped into the movement (I sorta consider that moment when I decided, in spite of my parents' opinions on the matter, to attend a meeting of my high school's Gay-Straight Alliance; I was quite a bit homophobic before that moment; thank God for change), I was taking the route of "God doesn't approve but I believe everyone has the choice so I'm going to support others ability to have that choice". So I really wasn't doing it on my behalf, frankly. The slow and rather boring story of my coming out was this slow progression of my views on the subject changing until I finally reached a point where I fully accepted myself and was able to see all the fascinating history and ideas that the Queer community really does have to offer. So you don't really get any dramatic conflict about my identity; I just slowly made decisions and, really, was very comfortable about who I was and what I believed.

    Which doesn't mean there aren't cool stories, of course. As you might imagine, I was *quite* the closet case throughout all of high school. I told people I trusted and it got to the point that I had to keep tabs on who I had told and whatnot; that way, I could also keep track of when someone I didn't tell had found out and figure out who was blabbing. Seriously, I was so far into the closet back then. I came out at the very end of my Senior year (I was graduating, going out East; it seemed safe). Beforehand, I messaged just about everyone I had secretly come out to (thus people I trusted) and talked it over with them. Then I came out on Facebook (ahh, the Internet age…). Everyone was so amazingly supportive. It's honestly one of my favorite memories. And, I guess, since I had the big coming out, it always confuses me when people don't want that (but, then again, I always had a thing for dramatics). For me, my coming out was such a huge moment in my life; you know, it's making a very big decision about what you believe and who you're going to be. I've always wanted to get in the habit of having a party every time the day I came out comes around but I haven't gotten around to doing it yet. It was just this moment of baring a very personal part of me to all these friends who were really important to me and who I think so very highly of and it was just great to feel that same respect and love back.

    If you do identify as a sexuality other than hetero, how has that been met? I know, and someone else has mentioned, that you're Catholic...has your family/other people in your faith had a problem with you?

    Well, I did have someone tell me I was possessed by a demon once so that was fun. Though, really – since I generally don't care too much what strangers think of me –, I think the largest difficulty has been from the family. Siblings and cousins have been fantastically supportive. I generally just don't talk about it with any of those over-40 folks. My dad knows. And I have a feeling I could probably get my mother to accept it (one of the uses of taking 4–5 years to accept yourself while being active in the cause is the parents just sorta get used to it). I just don't care to. But, of course, you always have to be vigilant, regardless of how much you might not care what strangers think. I'm truly amazed at how much things have changed since the beginning of high school when it comes to public acceptance (and how about from there since the 60s?). But people are assholes and, unfortunately, hate crimes are a real thing. I've been generally safe from any of that so far, though.

    Also, what do you do? I remember, you have a major in English, yeah? Or are you taking the gre to get the degree for what you want to do? I know a lot of people do graduate school because what they want to do requires more. Sorry if that's a stupid question.

    That's correct. And I also have Computer Science and Women's, Gender, and Sexuality Studies degrees. And they have earned me no occupation. Though, frankly, I do feel that part of that is simply that jobs expect work experience. That can be, in many ways, more important than the degrees you have. Partially because my coping method for both my depression and my parents was shutting everything out and partially because my parents didn't seem to find it important to explain this clearly, I did not spend my summers in college looking for internships or some way to pad my résumé. Now I've been trying to find work in a poor economy while balancing a severe sleeping problem along with a general social anxiety and my raging depression. It's not been well.

    I'm considering grad school simply since it's been a year now that I've been unemployed. If I could get a Master's (without sinking myself in debt) for Comp. Sci. or English, it might help in getting a job. I also wouldn't mind becoming a professor somewhere. But my grades weren't so great so who knows. I'll keep you updated.

    If it's not weird or intrusive...how much younger is your little sister? 

    Heh, not in the least. She's seven years younger. Now I'm just curious, why do you ask?

    How does the writing process work for you? Do you plan, or do you just sit down and write? Because, if you just sit down and do it...that's kinda impressive. I feel like your work should be in a literary magazine or something, and not just buried on xanga.

    Well now, that is a high compliment, particularly considering that I've submitted pieces to places before and none took (though, to be fair, I haven't submitted to many places); I hadn't realized you thought so highly of them. Thank you, sincerely.

    Honestly, I'm terrible at just jumping into things. Probably also my perfectionism but I need to have a full idea of what I'm doing before I start. That being said, I pulled "A Memory" from a larger piece of flash writing I had done. That last post I did was three lines from something longer I wrote years ago without thinking it through. And the new thing I'm working on (involving the characters Chrissy, Amy, 'Rome, and James) has been (largely) just written down without a great deal of pre-thought though that's because it's not as short as I usually tend to make my pieces and I have a feeling I'll never get anything done if I be my usual anal self.

    I think, either way, the thing that's consistent is that I tend to sit and chew and edit on things until I get them right. I'll notice something I hadn't before and then do edits. Sometimes I'll force myself to write something I then think I'll throw away just in case I come back in 6 months and decide that I actually was going somewhere and just need to flesh it out (or if there's a piece in there that would be great without all the extra fluff I wrote).

     

    Aaaand that should be it. Hope I answered your guys' questions well enough.

     

     

     

    *I'm usually incredibly slow to pass judgment or assume things simply because I could be wrong. The only real area where I'm generally willing to be strict in an opinion is when it comes to harming others. As such, I generally try to refrain from speaking negatively about Evangelicalism as if it's a given; that said, I have no a great deal of people who've been harmed by members of that religion and have generally found the culture that it propagates to be unhealthy not only for those who come into contact with it but also those who practice it. Obviously, no one enjoys being greeted on the terms of "Your religion is terrible" so I try to refrain and keep an ear open as to whether I may actually be wrong but I, at times, forget myself.

  • I'd like to think I have a wide taste in music. Since high school, I've generally described my favorite genres as classical, rap, and metal (with, in mind, that metal would include traditional rock'n'roll, though I think my silly high school self tended to incline towards metal over rock with the eternal exception of Bruce Springsteen).

    From time to time, I'd throw in something like "and occasionally jazz" or the like; admittedly, this was largely because I hadn't listened to much jazz yet. But I find, as the years go on, (perhaps fueled by fascination with that period from WWI to WWII and the Harlem Renaissance) that it's the blues that I actually grow a deeper and deeper appreciation and taste for. It doesn't help that the genre pretty much birthed all of modern music from then on out, sure, but, at the end of the day, I always find myself coming back to and desiring it. I think, when it comes to music, it may be my great Love.


    @XxbutterflyknivesXx

  • Well, @XxbutterflyknivesXx tapped me for this so here I go. The idea is 16 things about-yourself/you-like.

     

    1. I'm still becoming a writer because I want to see God.

    2. I use someone's name when trying to get to know people (and also because I'm terrible at remembering names and this helps). It grabs zir attention (a truly difficult thing to keep for people, it would seem) because you address zem directly, points that ze's notable to you because you've remembered zir name, and makes a sentence more personalized.

    Or, at least, so goes my reasoning; I don't know if it actually works as well at it might logically seem to. People have a tendency to generally not gravitate to reserved, and often dry, Me at initial meetings (which can extend into further acquaintances).

    Within the past few years, it's turned into my own quirk of a way to signify that someone has grabbed my attention or that I see and recognize zem and would like to get to know zem better. While I've never bothered to keep track of how often I've used people's names, I don't think I do this as much with those I know well or am close to (given they should already know that I want to know them as people, etc.). But for those I don't know as well, it's a sort of signifier (even if I'm the only one aware of it or what it means).

    3. I have attempted over a period of time to test out every type and amount of sleep in an attempt to reign it in. For reasons I have no understanding of, my body wants 12 hours of sleep or more; there is actual medical evidence of people having this condition with no known reason and no known cure. In college, going to sleep became an ordeal because you slay half of your day this way and completely obliterate the ability or morale to do work. When my depression would get particularly bad, I'd stay in bed for as long as 24 hours. While I think it was the depression that kept me from wanting to get out of bed, I think my body was perfectly fine with going back to sleep. It literally never tires of it.

    I think the best sleep I ever get (with a feeling that the sleep was actually regenerative) is going to bed on complete and thorough exhaustion or when my body wakes up after a short interval of sleep (3, 4.5, or – at most – 6 hours) on its own because I've been forcing myself to wake up after short hours (ranging from between 15 to 30 minutes or the previous hours I gave). Of course, 12 hours of sleep results in me being tired again in 6 hours and the short bursts of sleep are not remotely retainable.

    I kept myself strictly aiming for no more than 4.5 hours or sleep but getting between that and 8 hours for two or three months not too long ago. This eventually gave way to my body sleeping as much as it could again.

    I'm just sick of being perpetually exhausted.

    4. I love individuals, hate people, and idealize humanity.

    5. I tend to attach a lot of symbolic value to things (one of the fallouts of being a writer?). For example, I, undeniably, adore Caroline. I've known her ever since Junior year of high school, she's wonderfully loyal, and an amazing friend who has always stuck by me, no matter what. But, in spite of those things (or maybe they are because of this), Caroline also came to me through Victoria. Well before she was my Freshman, she was Victoria's. And, as we already know, I think very highly of Victoria. She could've just as much as said anything in high school and I would've taken it into consideration. So, in a sense, Caroline comes with Victoria's seal of approval. I doubt Victoria put that much thought into it. She probably met Caroline and simply took to the girl. But Caroline will always have that sense of approval and connection in my eye. That sort of, "Well, anyone who's a friend of _______ is a friend of mine," rationalization we often use; I don't know anything about you – but you're from ______'s camp and that's enough for me. That sort of loyalty and trust that goes with such a sentiment.

    Likewise, Lauren was one of the first people I ever met at Williams and was in my Freshmen orientation group. We got along, had a bit in common, and did some activities together. Nothing exceedingly great. I think we saw each other a total of 5 individual times after orientation over my four years at Williams. We weren't exactly best buds or anything (though she's a pretty cool person so I'll always be fond of her). Yet she was one of the first people I met and got along with in a new state at a new school miles from home and familiarity. She will always be someone I consider important to me because of this, regardless of how close we stay or become over the years.

    For yet another example, we randomly made a pact we were going to get a pug at one point, Lizzie. As such, this will still occur.

    6. I have a creeping suspicion that I have some form of anxiety. This actually is terrifying to me.

    As I've said already in a million different places a million different times, life is performance for me a good 90% of the time. And it's so thoroughly tiring. Beyond having to use just about all my concentration to read social cues and follow them whenever I interact with people, every second of every minute of every hour of every day of every week of every fortnight of every month of every year is a continual and constant process of keeping control of my emotions and keeping myself stable. Not even happy, just maintaining stability and keeping myself from depression.

    While it's a taxing process that circumvents what I can do during a particular moment (despite the insistence of tasks or activities I should do and micromanagement of others every other day), I still have control. Anxiety, quite simply, is not control. I imagine it's controllable; I know there are those who manage panic attacks and the like every day. But it's yet more work to tack on and I don't know I have the strength for it. Nor the time.

    7. I imagine the above is the reason I cannot stand when others don't bother to play nice or even bother to show an attempt at being friendly when I consistently do so. I am holding back and keeping in check my emotions in spite of that difficulty when I would much like to have the freedom to yell or be blunt about my feelings (if this xanga is not evidence enough of) or simply react slack-jawed because it's effort to even display emotion or even talk sometimes and you can't even muster being friendly back at me?

    8. I can be a massive pack-rat. It's partially because items carry not only memory but information about their time and place and partially because items can often be reused or used later.

    For an example, I was pasting and cutting some files before realizing that I didn't want to move them quite yet. Stupidly, I hit cancel. Well, the transfer was in the middle of moving a video of a band induction ceremony (thus the only version being the one I had taken). Canceling is caused the video to be half moved, creating a new 4 minute copy of the 8 minute clip. Panicking and not being able to think of any way to restore the file or if I had (stupidly, I had not) made a copy of the file, I decided to look through the my backed up files from before I dual-booted my computer with Windows and Linux. I have about three backups from different years. Not only was a copy of the video in one of them but it's not the first time some file has been lost (not always my fault) and I had it stored in an old backup.

    People keep telling me that it's an inane habit and yet I have so many instances in which I've found joy and use from my packrattiness.

    9. I never fully understood the whole concept of not being friends with your exes or members of the opposite sex (maybe because my bisexuality sort of would mean a person would have to worry double time) due to your current SO feeling uneasy about it.

    First off, (if you can't trust the person to that extent) you're probably going to have a bad time.

    Secondly, most of my friends are female and a few of my exes are some of the closest friends I have. I've always believed a proper relationship, even if failed, should bring the people closer together and that has definitely happened for a few of them. Arguably, you could say that all of my few best friends are female. As such, I fully intend to stay friends with them and that will include future activities like going to see shows or getting lunch, etc. If I'm with someone, it is with full commitment so long as I am with zem. If you can't trust my word on that…well, deal?

    10. While I've often jokingly noted that most Bruce Springsteen fans are twice my age, I've been lucky in that my favorite artist is still alive and producing work (even if I've been critical of that later work). I don't think many people get the luck of having their childhood artist, the one they grew up on and memorized and spent far too much time obsessing over, still alive and active. Hell, I've been to two Springsteen concerts. Nothing legendary but I still get the bragging rights to say that.

    And, sure, Black Sabbath and Ozzy are technically still around. But, for every other artist I listen to, I've either stopped or had my expectations lowered or they're no longer active/living.

    And I'm becoming keenly aware that that's not going to be forever. There isn't likely to be a moment where I trail a bunch of his shows or see one of those legendary live performances or even get to look forward to new material because he's either going to retire or, unfortunately, die.

    But even beyond that, – in death – it's not like I'm going to be able to follow what he's doing in the news or read interviews, etc. An individual, even if from afar, who was a mainstay of my life since childhood will be gone.

    11. 99% of my sense of humor can be pinned down to irony. I realized this when walking with my cousin one time; I was (and still somewhat am) so surprised I'm able to define it so cleanly.

    12. Part of the frustration of none of my cousins nor siblings nor myself being taught Haitian Creole is that I'm fairly certain I'm going to adopt children, on my own, in the future. And when it'll come to passing on heritage…there won't be much to do that with. My mother once got angry at me that I didn't post something on Facebook after the earthquake in Haiti. While I want to learn more about Haiti, – at this point in time – is it really all that surprising that I didn't? I don't speak the language, hardly know any others Haitians outside of my mother's side of the family, and have no real clue about the culture other than a collection of maybe five stories from my mother that all date back to before she emigrated (thus, thirty or so years ago). The little bit that I do have is a few Haitian recipes that I've grown up on. This means I can pass on a taste for Haitian cuisine (which I most certainly plan to do) but that's about it.

    I haven't tried learning a new language because I'm generally bad at learning them. Plus anything which doesn't captivate my attention is going to be a struggle due to my depression and I already have more than enough things I have to do that aren't interesting and, thus, become a struggle to do. Plus, given that the English language is my area of study, I find wordcraft to truly be an art form and a beautiful one at that. There's something very satisfying about a skillfully crafted sentence and, having been as anal about grammar as I have, I think it's an utter waste to use words carelessly or sloppily. While I would never deter anyone from learning another language (I actually tend to look at zem in a much higher light for accomplishing something I haven't been able to), I would feel terrible for foisting myself into another person's language only to use it poorly and sloppily and hold it back from forming itself into the more complex capabilities language has potential for and becoming a far tighter and elegant system just because of my own ineptitude.

    And yet I really would love to learn German or Creole. And it would at least give a stronger sense of heritage to my children. Recently, a feelings been creeping up on me that I may just bite the bullet; we'll see.

    13. Speaking of grammar…

    Technically speaking, I am not a prescriptivist when it comes to grammar. I believe language can change and does change. Indeed – as a system formed organically (and often haphazardly) from a grassroots sort of process –, I often think language should because it often manifests itself in ways that are nonsensical and poor. Basically, I think our language's rules should have reasoning behind them – and those which do not pass a test of sense should be discarded – but I do, at the end of the day, believe our language should have rules. I most certainly do not think that the fluidity of language gives us free range to run will-ze-n'ill-ze through language rules or rejoice at contradictory diversity within its body of rules. And, when at an impasse, I do tend to give precedence towards older rules and trends: this includes just about any usage that has prevalence in the language as well as any that may be created in the future (because, after all – at the end of the day –, I can't control how you use language). Generally, this tends to make me feel quite at home amongst prescriptivists – for a time.

    While I haven't read through the whole blog yet and cannot necessarily give it a stamp of approval (it does, after all, have the phrase "Prescriptivism Must Die!" emblazoned on it), the blog Motivated Grammar gets its name from the same belief as mine. From zir site:

    Grammar should not be articles of faith handed down to us from those on high who never split infinitives but always split hairs. Grammar should be rules that allow us to communicate more efficiently, clearly, and understandably. I’m not advocating the abolition of grammar,[explain to me why this comma exists] but rather its justification. I’m not quite sure what that will entail in the end, but I’m starting out by pointing out grammar rules that just don’t make sense, don’t work, or don’t have any justification. All I want is for our rules of grammar to be well-motivated.

    Questionable comma aside, the above is beautiful (I tend to react more strongly to certain explanations when said explanation puts into words perfectly, for me, some feeling I was having difficulty expressing or even expressing clearly).

    I should note that this doesn't apply to pronunciation, though the Midwestern accent is the most beautiful of English-speaking people (because I clearly have no bias; though I am also rather fond of the Irish accent and the Brooklyn accent, with Boston often piquing my interest). While I would probably prefer a standardization of pronunciation, that is literally impossible (plus there is some fun to that diversity). I was in argument with two friends of mine over whether Shakespeare would have to be standardized and I vehemently disagreed until we realized that I was under the impression we were solely talking about the text (silly English major). I'm inclined to believe that spelling (and possibly grammatical usage, though changes in that aren't likely to disrupt your Shakespeare too greatly) is likely to remain very standardized with the advent of the Internet Age and rising levels of education (and that's really all I'm concerned about maintaining). Of course, both were quick to point out (to my own persistent bafflement) that most high school students find they cannot understand the bard.

    Also, in regards to the plural of octopus: the term comes from the Greek, ὀκτάπους (oktapous, "eight-footed"). If we follow the Greek to the plural form, we would get octopodes. The term octopi comes from the mistaken assumption that the term comes from the Latin (it does not).

    I would probably accept the term octopuses, given that it follows standard English grammatical rules, but I'm not apt to like it.

    Also, down with the singular They.

    14. I really hate the term "bitch". As the above might give indication to, I'm not generally into abandoning any word. On the other hand, I generally despise reclamation of hate-terms.

    You might argue that "bitch" isn't only used as a term of hate but I might disagree. I said to my brother once that there's never a non-gendered usage with it. It either frames women into that old stereotype of just bringing down all the fun everyone else is having by voicing their opinions or it connotes weakness and being dominated (particularly disturbing when you tie it back to the notion of the word meaning "female"), often sharing equal usage in this case to describe males.

    I was technically wrong. When used as a noun, I think the term possibly escapes gendering (e.g. "Julie and the gang are up in this bitch!"). However, that, as far as I can see, is the only instance.

    But even beyond that, I don't like the term because – like the term slut – it tends to carry a connotation with it that tends to overshadow its definition.

    Okay, a woman who dates a guy just for his money and then movies on might not be a good person. Wouldn't it make sense to describe her as a bitch?

    Arguably. But let me counter. Take the movie Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay: there's a scene where Kumar is reminiscing with his friend and love interest, Vanessa. He points out that she put used tampons in a Professor's purse (we're going to ignore the fact that they're literally tying the image of a period to why this woman deserved what she got; I can make my point without it). Even before Vanessa responds, I knew what the answer would be, in that sort of way you know something by routine.

    Her response: Oh, come on. She was a bitch and you know it.

    The problem with this (and, being connotation, I can't really prove it but you may anecdotally perceive this) is that the justification really isn't just that she was mean. I think it's important to note that it's Vanessa saying this. Bitch often is wielded as this sort of silencer. No girl wants to be a bitch and, if you are one, you sort of get whatever's coming to you. Unasked, you deserve it.

    Vanessa's statement really reads as, "She was a bitch and, thus, she deserved it." And that's how the phrase is often put forward. She was a bitch. Umm, okay, on what criterion?

    But, unless I'm mistaken, it just feels like it's carrying more meaning that it ever bothers to say. It's not just meant as a justification – like I said, it's meant as a silencer. She was a bitch; end of conversation, case solved. And it operates much as the terms queer and faggot and fairy used to: terms no man wanted to dare be called – and so universally agreed upon in their detestation as adjectives that they just operate as silencers. My mother once got into a fight with a guy pulling out of his driveway (I think; I was young and can't remember that well). After bickering back in forth, she said just one word: faggot. That was the moment he stopped bothering to argue (though there was a brief wash of surprise over his face) and just went to write down her licence plate. And I don't mean to display that as my mother beating up on and bullying this man; he wasn't very nice and may've started the shouting match. But the point remains: whatever the actual definition of the term, it has a stronger one as a silencer meant to end discussion. "Just don't call me that." And, in that way, it makes the caller lazy (and I generally make a strong case for the defense of expletives). Rather than calling zem a noun whose definition is often vague in comparison to the sentence it's used in, we should actually describe the faults of the person and make a proper argument.

    Seriously, I really don't like that term.

    15. I (over-?)analyze anything and everything constantly. Even if I forget to mention that I, eventually, came to agree with an argument you made, I'm likely to think over what you said well after the discussion is through. I'm earnestly interested in reaching a conclusion that makes sense and is justifiable and, if you're capable of helping me reach that point, I very much would like your input. If I disagree or stick in opposition to a point, it's because I earnestly believe it (or am not willing to accept the other argument quite yet), not out of any malice or ill-will.

    As such, dismissing my point of view or not bothering to argue a point is one of the most insulting ordeals (yes, I know, I'm forming a list of them) you can put me through. I'll generally heckle after a point or a semantic because I'm earnestly interested in coming to an understanding of it. I'll never let go of being dismissed or being told I'm wrong (when I fully believe or aren't fully convinced that I'm not) because you're saying my reasoning is faulty. Rather than working with me towards understanding, you've pushed me aside (deeming me unsuitable of understanding) or've circumvented the argument process and, rather than pointing out why my reasoning is wrong, decided to deprive me of understanding. This is unacceptable and, above all, cruel. If you don't have much interest in the topic, simply mention so (I was also going to say if you didn't have the patience to explain it but that's stupid of me; impatience is unacceptable when it comes to other's needs).

    I don't think it's unreasonable to want to have an point of view explained and I cannot fathom how others can not perceive blinding insult at dismissal of a query.

    16. In spite of dating what some feel is a high amount of people (I really don't feel that it is), I am very rarely, truly pulled towards any one person, though I'm usually willing to try a relationship out if asked. I generally have high opinions of many and fall into crushes easily (I generally consider a crush any light infatuation that generally doesn't last very long because it isn't based on a large base). And, occasionally, there are those people who I start to seriously contemplate whether I should. But, in general, these aren't the things which cause me to consider, quite seriously, the risk of going for someone; there are some times when I'm simply blown away by a person, the type of infatuation where you want to devour the totality of your time with that person and immerse your senses in discovering further who they are because they are so stimulating of a personality. The difference between the last two of the three is that, in the former, I may consider the risk worth it: I may or may not ask zem out. In the latter, I know it's worth the risk because I am so thoroughly drawn to this person that every bit of me feels it.

    Obviously, that last one is not a common occurrence. And it's one that tends to be predicated on having a past with the person and knowing them fairly well (given that, most generally, it's personality and opinions/ideals that make me attracted to a person). I suppose this is a phenomenon which could have only occurred later in life as I got an idea of the type of person I'm attracted to. Still, very rarely does anyone truly come along that thoroughly blows me away (though I may partially blame that on how little we truly get to know any one person that we meet over the spans of our lifetime), though they (often surprisingly) do occur.

     

     

     

    Alright, time to tag some people for this: @IgorLollipop, @under_the_carpet, @mkmm87, @LyricalVent (we've been trying to re-figure-out/reclaim who we are for so long, maybe trying to write out just a fraction of it will help) 

  • A friend of mine once (in what seemed, to me, out of the blue) E-mailed the listserve of (I think) the marching band, noting that it had come to her attention that there were members of the group which had never had the experience, despite growing up in the 90s, of hearing "No Scrubs" by TLC; this had to be corrected, she noted.

    Seeing as I had only heard, and remembered, the song tangentially from hearing it on the radio once or twice back in my childhood (plus I'm sure my cousins may've helped to some degree), this may be something rather prevalent. And my xanga would be remiss if it did not partially exist as a place where one of the greatest decades of human existence could live.

    As far as I'm concerned, the 90s never ended.

  •  

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    The Weekly Sift

    making sense of the news one week at a time

    The Distress of the Privileged
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    In a memorable scene from the 1998 film Pleasantville (in which two 1998 teen-agers are transported into the black-and-white world of a 1950s TV show), the father of the TV-perfect Parker family returns from work and says the magic words “Honey, I’m home!”, expecting them to conjure up a smiling wife, adorable children, and dinner on the table.

    This time, though, it doesn’t work. No wife, no kids, no food. Confused, he repeats the invocation, as if he must have said it wrong. After searching the house, he wanders out into the rain and plaintively questions this strangely malfunctioning Universe: “Where’s my dinner?”

    Privileged distress. I’m not bringing this up just to discuss old movies. As the culture evolves, people who benefitted from the old ways invariably see themselves as victims of change. The world used to fit them like a glove, but it no longer does. Increasingly, they find themselves in unfamiliar situations that feel unfair or even unsafe. Their concerns used to take center stage, but now they must compete with the formerly invisible concerns of others.

    If you are one of the newly-visible others, this all sounds whiny compared to the problems you face every day. It’s tempting to blast through such privileged resistance with anger and insult.

    Tempting, but also, I think, a mistake. The privileged are still privileged enough to foment a counter-revolution, if their frustrated sense of entitlement hardens.

    So I think it’s worthwhile to spend a minute or two looking at the world from George Parker’s point of view: He’s a good 1950s TV father. He never set out to be the bad guy. He never meant to stifle his wife’s humanity or enforce a dull conformity on his kids. Nobody ever asked him whether the world should be black-and-white; it just was.

    George never demanded a privileged role, he just uncritically accepted the role society assigned him and played it to the best of his ability. And now suddenly that society isn’t working for the people he loves, and they’re blaming him.

    It seems so unfair. He doesn’t want anybody to be unhappy. He just wants dinner.

    Levels of distress. But even as we accept the reality of George’s privileged-white-male distress, we need to hold on to the understanding that the less privileged citizens of Pleasantville are distressed in an entirely different way. (Margaret Atwood is supposed to have summed up the gender power-differential like this: “Men are afraid women will laugh at them. Women are afraid men will kill them.”)

    George deserves compassion, but his until-recently-ideal housewife Betty Parker (and the other characters assigned subservient roles) deserves justice. George and Betty’s claims are not equivalent, and if we treat them the same way, we do Betty an injustice.

    Tolerating Dan Cathy. Now let’s look at a more recent case from real life.

    One of the best things to come out of July’s Chick-fil-A brouhaha was a series of posts on the Owldolatrous blog, in which a gay man (Wayne Self) did his best to wrangle the distress of the privileged.

    The privileged in this case are represented by Chick-fil-A president Dan Cathy, who stirred up a hornet’s nest when he denounced the “prideful, arrogant attitude” of those who support same-sex marriage, saying that they “are inviting God’s judgment on our nation”.

    His comments drew attention to the millions that Chick-fil-A’s founding family has contributed to anti-gay organizations, and led to calls for a boycott of their restaurants.

    To which his defenders responded: Is tolerance a one-way street? Cathy was just expressing the genuine beliefs of his faith. As an American, he has freedom of speech and freedom of religion. Why can’t gays and their supporters respect that?

    “Nothing mutual about it.” Self starts his post by acknowledging Cathy’s distress, but refusing to accept it as equivalent to his own. Cathy is suffering because people are saying bad things about him and refusing to buy his sandwiches. Meanwhile, 29 states (including Self’s home state of Louisiana) let employers fire gays for being gay. There are 75 countries Self and his partner can’t safely visit, because homosexuality is illegal and (in some of them) punishable by death.

    The Cathy family has given $5 million to organizations that work to maintain this state of oppression. Self comments:

    This isn’t about mutual tolerance because there’s nothing mutual about it. If we agree to disagree on this issue, you walk away a full member of this society and I don’t. There is no “live and let live” on this issue because Dan Cathy is spending millions to very specifically NOT let me live. I’m not trying to do that to him.

    Christian push-back. That post got over a million page views and (at last count) 1595 comments, including some push-back from conservative Christians. Self’s follow-up responded to one commenter who wrote that he supported Chick-fil-A as

    [a] company with a founder who speaks for what seems to be the minority these days.

    In other words, I specifically feel BASHED by the general media and liberal establishment and gay activists for simply being a Bible-believing Christian. From TV shows, movies, mainstream news and music, so much is Intolerance of my conservative beliefs. I am labeled a HOMOPHOBIC and a HATER. … I neither fear nor hate homosexuals.

    Self brings in a blog post by Bristol Palin, in which she scoffs at an interviewer’s implication that she might refuse to have a gay partner on “Dancing With the Stars”.

    In their simplistic minds, the fact that I’m a Christian, that I believe in God’s plan for marriage, means that I must hate gays and must hate to even be in their presence. Well, they were right about one thing: there was hate in that media room, but the hate was theirs, not mine.

    … To the Left, “tolerance” means agreeing with them on, well, everything. To me, tolerance means learning to live and work with each other when we don’t agree – and won’t ever agree.

    Like Bristol Palin, Self’s commenter sees himself as the victim of bigotry. He isn’t aware of hating anybody. He just wants to preserve the world he grew up in, and can’t be bothered to picture how others suffer in that world.

    He wants dinner.

    Aesop II. Self answers with a story: a sequel to the Aesop fable of the mouse who saves a lion.

    [A story is] the only way I know to address some of these things without resorting to words that hurt or offend, or shut down discussion.

    Aesop’s tale ends with the mouse and the lion as friends, but Self notes that they are still not equal: The Lion is King of the Jungle and the Mouse … is a mouse.

    In Self’s sequel, the Lion hosts the Kingdom Ball, to which mice are never invited, because they disgust many of the larger animals. Nothing personal, the Lion explains to his friend, it’s just the way things are.

    At this point, Self breaks out of the story to explain why (in spite of the fact that his commenter feels “BASHED by the general media and liberal establishment”) he is casting conservative Christians as the Lion and gays as the Mouse: It is not illegal to be a Christian in any state. You can’t be fired for Christianity. Christians may feel bashed by criticism, but gays get literally bashed by hate crimes. Christians may feel like people are trying to silence them, but the Tennessee legislature debated a bill making it illegal to say the word gay in public schools. (The senate passed it.)

    There is a vast difference between being told you’re superstitious or old-fashioned and being told you’re an abomination that doesn’t deserve to live. There’s a vast difference between being told you’re acting hateful and being told God hates you.

    I’ve been gay and Christian all my life. Trust me: Christian is easier. It’s not even close.

    Leonine distress. But does the Lion have reason to be annoyed with the Mouse? Of course. The Mouse is making trouble by asking to go where he’s not wanted. The Mouse is “prideful” for expecting the rules to change to suit him. However, Self admits that the Lion probably doesn’t hate or fear the Mouse.

    I don’t think you hate me. I certainly don’t think you’re afraid of me. Neither is Bristol Palin. She probably even has LGBT people she calls friends. She just disagrees with them about whether they should be invited to the party (the party, in this case, being marriage).

    But here’s the problem: the basis of that disagreement is her belief that her relationships are intrinsically better than ours.

    There’s a word for this type of statement: supremacist.

    Ah, now we get to “words that hurt or offend”. Here’s what he means by it:

    Supremacy is the habit of believing or acting as if your life, your love, your culture, your self has more intrinsic worth than those of people who differ from you.

    Self sees a supremacist attitude in the commenter’s

    sense of comfort with yourself as an appropriate judge of my choices, ideas, or behaviors, … unwillingness to appreciate the inherent inequality in a debate where I have to ask you for equality … [and] unwillingness to acknowledge the stake that you have have in your feeling of superiority rather than blame it on God.

    […]Now let’s finish the fable: Uninvited, the Mouse crashes the party. The shocked guests go silent, the Lion is furious, and the ensuing argument leads to violence: The Lion chucks the Mouse out the window, ending both the party and the friendship.

    The lesson: Supremacy itself isn’t hate. You may even have affection for the person you feel superior to. But supremacy contains the seeds of hate.

    Supremacy turns to hate when the feeling of innate superiority is openly challenged. … Supremacy is why you and Bristol Palin have more outrage at your own inconvenience than at the legitimate oppression of others.

    We can talk about the subjugation of women later, honey. Where’s my dinner?

    George Parker’s choices. All his life, George has tried to be a good guy by the lights of his society. But society has changed and he hasn’t, so he isn’t seen as a good guy any more. He feels terrible about that, but what can he do?

    One possibility: Maybe he could learn to be a good guy by the lights of this new society. It would be hard. He’d have to give up some of his privileges. He’d have to examine his habits to see which ones embody assumptions of supremacy. He’d have to learn how to see the world through the eyes of others, rather than just assume that they will play their designated social roles. Early on, he would probably make a lot of mistakes and his former inferiors would correct him. It would be embarrassing.

    But there is an alternative: counter-revolution. George could decide that his habits, his expectations, and the society they fit are RIGHT, and this new society is WRONG. If he joined with the other fathers (and right-thinking mothers like the one in the poster) of Pleasantville, maybe they could force everyone else back into their traditional roles.

    Which choice he makes will depend largely on the other characters. If they aren’t firm in their convictions, the counter-revolution may seem easy. (“There, there, honey. I know you’re upset. But be reasonable.”) But if their resentment is implacable, becoming a good guy in the new world may seem impossible.

    […]Confronting this distress is tricky, because neither acceptance nor rejection is quite right. The distress is usually very real, so rejecting it outright just marks you as closed-minded and unsympathetic. It never works to ask others for empathy without offering it back to them.

    At the same time, my straight-white-male sunburn can’t be allowed to compete on equal terms with your heart attack. To me, it may seem fair to flip a coin for the first available ambulance, but it really isn’t. Don’t try to tell me my burn doesn’t hurt, but don’t consent to the coin-flip.

  • At some Hardy Party a few years ago – as my tipsy boyfriend wanted to just make out and I wanted to cuddle and talk –, Andrew illustrated that the difference between our two worldviews (particularly when it came to physical attractiveness) was that I derived goodness, or morality, from function while he derived it from beauty; as he had put it then, something has worth from its beauty alone.

    While an interesting dynamic, he had my worldview wrong. While I don't think I've given any large defense on the importance of art, my own appreciation for it (and, thus, its implied importance) is rather evident throughout the whole of my xanga. I mean, after all, I majored in English in part because I'm a (thus far recreational) writer; clearly art is of importance to me. And, once again obvious from my xanga, I generally don't take a all-art-is-equal approach to it. In this regard, I seem to agree fully with him that a ranking by beauty is fully acceptable and even encouraged (though it is notable that I assess art largely through a logical criterion in which emotional response is often less important than the other facets of said criterion (at least outside of personal assessment of art); more important to me is form (though often the second least important aspect), symbolism, message, etc. Of course, this may be in part due to my complicated relationship with emotions and that they are, for the most part for me, derived from how I logically and intellectually assess things rather than any instinctual, thoughtless emotional response).

    Yet, when it comes to physical attractiveness (and the point which caused Andrew to make this distinction), I take, at my most extreme, the exact opposite approach. Now, the reasoning behind it is less ideal, to me, because it's necessitated by a technicality of life rather than on a merit of its own; of course, this may be a result of the fact that, while I think it important, this notion of upholding and celebrating beauty for the sake of beauty actually has no clear basis (as far as I've seen thus far) on my morality (hurting a person or restraining zir autonomy is immoral).

    The technicality of my defense of beauty in general and an opposition to physical attractiveness is that, when it comes to a person, you should only judge based on their merit; judging someone based on how they were born is one of the cruelest and unacceptable positions to take. Contrasting that, art has no ability to create itself and no feelings; thus, we can judge the fuck out of it (of course, that may just be an extension of the fact that the artwork doesn't make itself and, thus, we are judging the creative work of another person).

     

    All of this is to preface my difficult relationship with accessories that often intersect with ideas of physical attractiveness (clothing, makeup, etc.). For example, I had been against makeup; while I personally don't like it, my bigger reason was that I felt it was an extension (or remnant) of the patriarchy's attempt to control women's appearances (though I often mentioned the latter far less than the formal due an uncertainty about an sound argument for the latter). However, in the long run (in spite of our habit to try to universalize all personal opinions), I have to come to the understanding that all notions of "cool" or "nice looking" in relations to clothes, makeup, etc. are socially constructed ideas; while – to some degree – still speculating for others, my own styles are very much based on the decade I grew up in as well as an interest in the 1920s. Really, that's it. There isn't some larger, more logical reason for it. And, while the lack of logic hurts my soul and I would swear up and down that tastes such as these can have some objective element to them (otherwise why else would I have such a seemingly instinctual response to certain styles‽), the only thing that makes any logical sense as to why tastes would reasonably form for people or why we do end up differing is that it is firmly subjective.

    And, truly as a side note, that isn't to say that makeup didn't play a large part within the patriarchy. Or that certain tastes in types/styles of makeup aren't simply an unconscious outgrowth of demands as to what is considered legitimately pretty by the patriarchy. It simply means that such tastes can outgrow the patriarchy (and, more importantly, no one should be making assumptions as to why anyone decides they enjoy a particular style). After all, my own objection – were I into policing people – could easily be used as part of the patriarchy's formation of what it thinks women ought to be.

    Of course, understanding all of this doesn't necessarily make it easy to implement (perhaps the reason its easy to reject physical attractiveness so wholesale for me is that I started following that reasoning as far back as the beginning of high school); as you cultivate a taste, you want to reject that which doesn't match it (perhaps another defense for my rejection of humoring physical attractiveness).

    In any case – as I work through that moral dilemma –, the below article is fantastic and well illustrates what I'm outlining above. The original thing can be found here: http://tutusandtinyhats.wordpress.com/2012/11/01/fashion-policing-a-playground-of-oppression/.

     

     

     

    Yeah, I’m wearing leggings as pants. You got a problem with that?

    The deeper I get into the fa(t)shion world, the more I come across examples of fashion judging and policing, even within spaces that are explicitly body-positive.

    It pisses me off immensely. First, because one person’s style is no one’s business but their own. Period. Second, because it’s inextricably tied up with pretty much every prejudice under the sun: sexism, ableism, ageism, racism, classism, homophobia, transphobia, fatphobia…

    Warning: epic rant ahead.

    A few examples I’ve come across recently:

    1.) Sal at Already Pretty did an interview with three women who dress within a defined aesthetic. I found it interesting, especially since I, like Sal, enjoy dabbling in many different styles. Some days I feel goth, other days pink bubblegum with a touch of fairy kei. Sometimes I just want to be Effie Trinket, or a flapper, or a slightly more sophisticated version of my seventh-grade self (Nirvana t-shirt and wide-leg jeans represent!). And my favorite outfits tend to involve combining multiple styles. So it’s cool to read about people who approach fashion differently.

    But this statement, from Candice of Super Kawaii Mama, set my teeth on edge:

    And the other thing that I feel very strongly about is raising the bar for the next generation. As a society we have never been so well off (historically) or had such ready and cheap access to good clothing and beauty options. We spend billions on advertising in these markets, spend our pay-checks on magazines of celebrities looking fantastic, and yet never as a nation have we been so poorly dressed / presented. It is a maddening irony and one that will only change if people are brave enough to challenge that status quo and raise that bar.

    ARGHHHH NO. Just no.

    I like glamour. I really do. But it’s only fun when it’s optional. Sometimes I don’t need or want to be glamorous–like when I’m on my way to go hiking, or sick, or dealing with shitty New England weather, or just in a yoga-pants-and-T-shirt-and-no-makeup mood. I don’t expect anyone else to prioritize glamour or any other aesthetic, or to justify their clothing choices to me.

    And I certainly don’t define bravery as “dressing in a way that I like.” You want bravery? Try the NYU Hospital nurses who carried ICU infants down nine flights of stairs in the dark, manually providing them with air and ventilation.

    If you find other people’s outfits “maddening,” that’s your problem, not theirs. No one has a responsibility to dress in a way that you like. And the very concept of “poorly dressed” is completely arbitrary. One person’s “eww” is another person’s “awesome.” One person’s clashing is another person’s oh my God your coat is so amazing, I almost want to go to England and steal it from you.

    Also, just because we’re well-off overall as a society doesn’t mean we don’t have poverty. It doesn’t mean that everyone has access, financial or otherwise, to the clothing they would like to wear.

    Especially if they wear plus sizes, and even more so if they wear a size above 22 or 24. Especially if they lack reliable transportation to stores that carry their size, or the money to pay for shipping. Especially if they have a disability that makes getting dressed difficult, or sensory issues that make certain fabrics uncomfortable. Especially if their weight has changed (for intentional reasons, or due to childbirth, aging, medications, post-diet rebound, health problems, stress, etc.), and they haven’t had the time or money to assemble a new wardrobe. Especially if they’re busy and overworked, or un(der)employed and searching for a job–both of which are currently huge problems in the US and many other countries–and don’t have the energy to put into caring about clothing. Or some combination of these things.

    As just one example, if you saw me on the street today, you might think, “why is that lady wearing a lovely goth-meets-business-casual outfit with butt-ugly running sneakers?” I hate how these sneakers look too, believe me. But I’m wearing them because I have plantar fasciitis in my left foot, and sneakers are the only footwear that doesn’t exacerbate it. I can’t even wear cute sneakers, like Converses–my feet are both wide and flat, which makes finding shoes that fit nearly impossible. I take what I can get, regardless of whether they fit my style. And if people want to judge me for it, that’s their problem.

    Who knows, maybe I’ll start a trend?

    They may not be pretty, but they make my feet less sad.

    2.) I don’t normally read MSN Style, or other mainstream fashion sites/magazines/blogs. But I happened to come across this article somehow, and it’s a perfect example of everything I hate about fashion policing.

    In the slideshow “8 Fashion Mistakes Men Make,” two fashion “experts” criticize various men’s outfits.

    I want to get into this guy’s pants. Literally. They’re just that awesome.

    The female “expert” says: “Oh, I see. Those don’t just look like lady’s [sic] capris… they fit like them too. The cardigan, shades and even the black case are so sleek, but the pants need a do-over.”

    Maybe they are womens’ capris. So what? Some male-bodied people like to wear women’s clothing. Maybe they’re transgender or genderqueer. Maybe they subscribe to Kate Bornstein‘s philosophy: “I think love, sex and gender are like Pokemon, and I want to catch ‘em all!” Or maybe they just like to wear dresses, like Michael of His Black Dress.

    Redefining masculinity, one badass outfit at a time.

    The male “expert” says: ”I’m sorry, but I could never take anyone seriously if they walked into a room wearing those pants.”

    Fuck that noise.

    I doubt it’s a coincidence that gay and transgender people face high rates of workplace discrimination and harassment. Contributing to a culture of gender-policing has real, harmful consequences.

    3.) A while back, there was a Fatshionista thread about whether there are age cut-offs for cutesy accessories. The original poster mentioned that she will soon be working in museums, and I think it makes sense to tone down your look for work. But what you wear at work is one thing, and what you wear during your free time is another.

    In comment thread, one person said:

    If I saw something like this http://virtualneko.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/kawaii-girl1.gif on a person older than 15, I’d judge.

    If I saw someone of any age dressed like this, I’d appreciate their awesomeness.

    She went on to say:

    In my opinion the key is not to look like someone who desperately tries to look way younger than he is.

    I hate the assumption that wearing certain clothes or accessories means you’re trying to look younger. I don’t wear Hello Kitty stuff because I want to look younger–I wear it because I like it. I’ll probably still be wearing HK when I’m 80, and I’m ok with that. (Also, I’m kind of looking forward to the day when my hair turns gray/white, because I’ll finally be able to dye it pink without bleaching it first.)

    If you like it, and enjoy wearing it, you’re not too old for it. Period.

    The same commenter mentioned that she is a huge Dr. Who fan, but limits her fan needs to small pins, socks, and bookmarks. Which is her choice to make, but she’s missing out on some pretty awesome stuff–like the amazing TARDamask shirt one of my coworkers wore recently.

    4.) I like Trystan’s blog, CorpGoth, where she writes about keeping a goth edge while dressing appropriately for an office job. So I was disappointed to find two posts in which she makes privileged pronouncements about how people should dress.

    In one, she repeats the popular meme that leggings are not pants. Which is so tied up with judgment about women’s bodies–especially fat women’s bodies. With the belief that we need to hide our shapes. With disdain for one of the cheapest and most comfortable clothing options.

    In another, she declares:

    Let it be known that I am firmly in the camp with those who believe that the casualization of clothing in the U.S. in the late-20th & early-21st centuries is the first step to the downfall of our civilization & that wearing pajamas in public is a sure sign of the coming apocalypse.

    I know it’s hyperbole. It’s still not funny.

    I feel that people are allowed to wear PJs outside the home exactly three times in their lives: (1) once when you have the flu & need to make a trip to the drugstore for tissues & meds, (2) once when you’re miserably depressed & need chocolate &/or booze between the hours of 2am and 6am, & (3) one additional time to be used judiciously, carefully, not in broad daylight or among more than a dozen people, & it can only last for no more than 10 minutes.

    Thanks for deciding what other people are “allowed” to wear. You do know that people have the right to wear whatever they want, right? And that there are a million factors that affect what people wear, and judging them for it is an assholey move?

    I could rant more, but instead, here’s a picture of me wearing pajama pants.

    Hello Kitty, of course.

  • My Facebook currently says I'm in a relationship. This is, to the best of my knowledge, false. At first, I was busy with finishing off finals, let alone getting sleep again. As I was reaching the end of that, I figured she was busy (just getting home and all) and, I reasoned as a side thought, probably best to let her end it, so she could hide anyone else from seeing it (she's not a fan of attention); if I do it, it changes to simply listing her in a relationship without listing with who, which is bound to be noted. She might hide FB from listing being single but that already identifies a change.

    However, it has now been five days since we've supposedly broke up. We both agreed going in that the best course of action would be not continuing the relationship, seeing as I'm graduating and she's only a Freshman. It's not the…ideal scenario, but both of us know a long-distance relationship isn't the best course. Neither of us are good at keeping up communication over anything further than a driving distance (i.e. in person). Had it been more than a mere three months, I might've considered it; but not over so short a time period.

    There was this moment, two or three days after I was finally finished and attempting to get my energy back, where I, through the sleep, was duly aware that, when I woke up, there wouldn't really be anyone I could go to as a means to talk to or lean on so wonderfully as she had allowed; don't get me wrong, Holly, Allan, Maia, Margaret (both), and Antal are all wonderful, but there isn't something quite the same, for reasons I can't articulate in words yet. And, well, that was a little upsetting.

    Every relationship since Allison has been this bizarre question of, "What will happen?" Because, as much as I thought I understood what I wanted, it didn't quite go as planned. Neither did curly. I forget if I mentioned here, but, at least at the beginning (first month or so), there was always that question with Emma; not enough to worry me but just under the surface. I don't like unpredictability, but it's there just the same, for whatever reason.

    I haven't actually had a relationship with an expectation to end, truly. Emma did end, for very much the same reasons, but I hadn't seen it coming (should have, mind you, graduating and all, but it was the first time having to even think about that question). Yet, perhaps because I was used to relationships ending and because I had been contemplating the question of the uses of having short relationships (there is, if my memory serves me, a post a short while back on here where I resolve to get to know people, because time is short and people are fascinating and hardly deserve to remain undiscovered; I'm certain, tied to that, I must have said that meant also getting into another relationship, even if unlikely to succeed, even if certain – from the outset – to end), I was fine with the idea that this would, at the end of the school year, end (only other word coming to mind at the moment to diversify that sentence is terminate and that one's just depressing).

    I mean, I had been waiting on someone to fascinate me, and then Arantza comes along and – good fuck, fascinating barely covers it. Funny as all Hell, smart and perceptive, interested in politics (and dye-in-the-wool liberal, hard Left as far as average Americans go), fascination with the past, conscious of race, etc. etc. And I meet her in the second half of my senior year of college. But, Hell, she said yes (February 20th). There was no way I was going to say no.

    So it seemed logical – neither of us wanted to enter into a long-distance relationship; come the end of the year, we would split. It seemed reasonable, couldn't be helped; it'd be bittersweet come the end, but one would hope so if it was remotely a good relationship.

    But something happened a little sooner than the end of the year. We were listening to records when suddenly – I've always hated the explanation "I just feel it". It's a cop out, something personal which detracts the information from everyone else. Yet those types of instances seem to be cropping up more and more these days. I still think any feeling can be explained in the end, made sense of. However, until that point, all I can say is that something felt different, leaving that room that time. A longing for her not to go so quickly. Before then, it had mostly been like any other friend, other than the fact that I was kissing her; it was very much still like since I had met her. And then it changed.

    Maybe because I had been getting to know her better. As I've said here and to several times, to be open at all is to be vulnerable. And it's in that vulnerability that our relationships have any meaning – because a person has the choice to hurt you but does not; yet, more than that, it would hurt them to do so. Of course, everything, it's seeming, these days boils down to depression and my crappy childhood for me, so maybe the willingness to protect, to not hurt, and to care emanate from those personal experiences. But I hesitate to say that definitively yet.

    Whatever the reason, there was that change. Which I feel is necessary to say that it's different than you feel for a friend. In that, I mean, I care very deeply for my friends. You don't want your friends hurt nor do you not miss them (something just about everyone already knows). Yet you might want to spend time with a significant other over friends at times. What is that distinction? I don't know how to put it to words. Yet that was part of the feeling. That desire to spend time with someone who has become more than a friend. That's the best I can do to detail it.

    So here I am. About to make it "Facebook official". Everything has an end, even if I don't like it.

    And, should you find this, Arantza, the Bessie Smith record sounds positively amazing; I'm playing it now, and it's a shame we never gave it a spin earlier.

  • I'm pretty sure the only times I feel fully like something isn't missing is when I have some dedicated purpose or doing activism. Which is clearly problematic on a whole scale of levels.

    I wanted a quiet Senior year to not get overwhelmed and sort of find some mental peace and figure things out.

    Well, fuck it, then.

  • You know, I've become friends with this absolutely fascinating and wonderful person recently – and I can barely find the energy. It's weird. Because I've attacked my school work fine this year; assuming I get to next Wednesday and past my midterms and lab, I'm not burnt out yet. And I've kept up doing things; I'm running InterFaith still with a thoroughly wonderful board, I've been involved with the band still and even been doing a decent job as the MoCA (the group is looking absolutely wonderful this year). Keeping things up with Williams Catholic as well. But when I have to show initiative for anything, I find myself being dead. I just want routine and to get by.

    Which isn't to say I don't want interaction with people. I think my club activity is a testament to that. And I'm still irate and irritated as usual about how my shyness is making interactions with people more difficult (having more organic and non-stilted conversations with Julia would really be nice, you know).

    But I think the issue is that I want people to be interested in me. I'm sick of feeling like I sort of have to butt my way into conversations or actively say hello to people because, outside of what constantly feels like a small amount of people, no one would bother to care if I didn't. Or they say hello to be polite but couldn't really care beyond that. Or, probably, I'm just being over-dramatic as usual. It's funny; I used to have to try to find friends who wouldn't mind or would bother me to hang out because of my natural tendency and preference to being reclusive; the point being, the reclusive-ness didn't bother me. Now it irritates me that I go weeks without seeing some people other than running into people and yet it's my own damn fault.

    I think, now that I think about it, that's the reason I've been so hesitant (that's actually being nice; it's been absurd to me, but it's actually been near-to complete apathy) about asking Margaret out. It's not like she's even been given a conscious decision about the matter yet (may not have even crossed her mind), so such behavior is not really fair to her, and yet I can't help but just not want to give effort to anyone who's not interested back; I want someone who is interested in me or what we're doing for just about anything I've had to do this year. So, I guess, that feeling of not wanting to even bother with those not interested back has just become instinctual, in a sense.

    And the thing is, Amanda is thoroughly fascinating. I have a decent amount in common with her. Even for those things where we're not, she's still damn interesting. It's like, I've been saying for the past two years that I really want to get to know people more. Partial point of college, right? And, as I've said enough times to make the ears bleed on here, I am fascinated by the human personality. I like getting to know people.

    And, if I'm sitting with Amanda in person (or anyone else, I've found), I could talk for hours. Share your life story, please; I can make time for a week a free time if it's needed. But this resistance to putting effort into anything seems to affect me in places where it doesn't even make sense. I feel like, back in the day, I wouldn't just respond to the E-mails Amanda sent me - I'd actively send others back that aren't just responses. I'd ask more questions than simply just respond to the contents. But I can't even muster the energy while not in person. I just want to dump the effort of anything we're doing on the other person, it seems. Which is stupid. It's not even helpful to the things I want. I'm struggling to find a way to label this even some sort of survival method.

    You know, I thought I had gotten over this. It's not the end of 2009 anymore, Jon.

  • "Normative definitions of masculinity[...]face the problem that not many men actually meet the normative standards[: ...]the difference between the men who cheer football matches on TV and those [playing]. But there is something more[...]carefully crafted[.... M]any men who draw the patriarchal dividend also respect their wives and mothers, are never violent towards women, do their[...]share of the housework[...], and can easily convince themselves that feminists must be bra-burning extremists."

     

     

    Recent positive in my life: becoming a Women's, Gender, and Sexuality major.

    Recent negative: realizing just how stupid most people are in actually understanding feminism.