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Strongbad!
Ah, politics!

 
What the hell is up with the Marriage Defense Amendment?

So, liberal little me is listening in the car to KPFA, our local libby station, along with my husband. They have a show on, which I cannot remember the name of for the life of me. But the issue was the lovely, Dumbya-endorsed, Defense of Marriage amendment that may soon be making its way to your local state legislature if there are enough rabid right-wingers in Congress and the Senate to get that dawg passed. While the idea of defending marriage sounds great, (I keep envisioning a knight in shining armor standing guard in front of me and my husband, keeping all of the fundies away from us), I can't help but wonder how in the hell keeping gays and lesbians from marrying is going to further the cause of marriage throughout the land.

I mean, think about it: if you're in favor of defending marriage, and keeping it as a functioning social institution despite an over 50% divorce rate, shouldn't you be encouraging more people to marry, rather than restricting the field of potential couples to get married? And if you're up in arms about supposed gay promiscuity, shouldn't allowing them to get married cut down on it? Hello, the answer should obviously be yes.

But then again, I'm logical. And I didn't understand the fundamental issue at stake. It's not about gays or lesbians getting equal economic rights and benefits, it's about something far more sinister. The KPFA show had quoted some talking head from one of the big "pro-Family" organizations. The idjit was rambling incoherently about how his son and daughter growing up next to a gay married couple in the house on one side of theirs, and a lesbian married couple in the house on the other side. The daughter would wonder what was up with Mommy and Daddy, after seeing two Mommies and two Daddies. Here comes the kicker: she and her brother would then think Gender is unimportant. Yep, the clincher. Gay and lesbian relationships essentially prove that gender constructions in society are unnecessary and unimportant.

I mean, think about it. If two men can have an equal married relationship together, it will indicate to a poor, impressionable young girl, that the sexist gender roles that play out in her own house are unnecessary for a functional relationship to occur. Or if she sees two women in a happy, and joyful relationship, then she will realize that women don't necessarily need to be subservient to men. The religious right has been up in arms for years about the "detrimental" impact that feminism has had on society. And functional same-sex married relationships, in which neither party has a gender power advantage, is the proof that a feminist needs to show that women do not need to be the "givers" or the "nurturers" or the "sacrificers" in any relationship.

Think of what this means to the religious right, which runs scared at any thought of women truly realizing their own power... It means the death of everything they hold sacred. That the man is the breadwinner, the supporter, and the ultimate authority in each marriage and relationship. The woman does not need to surrender to the husband as the final authority in the marriage. She can, instead, have an equal place in the relationship. The right-wing males have been running scared since the 1980's, afraid of their ultimate loss of power in society. Equal married partnerships between two men and two women would just serve as another nail in the coffin to male supremacy. And they just can't stomach that!

I guess you just have to feel sorry for people that insecure... But I don't. I just despise them ;-)

 
It's amazing how disturbing things can be found everywhere... Like, take this example of a Buddhist cult, if you would like to experience disturbations of a most disturbing sort.... *yes I DID mean to use "disturbing" more than once!*

D G Rinpoche claims to be a guru reincarnated for the 9th time, this time for the first time in an American woman. The former "student" has since migrated on another plane of reality into Boddhisattva land. This Rinpoche speaks in stilted English, and claims not to understand American ways of thinking, which is odd, considering that she can speak long sentences in an American accent, with only a "flubbed" word here or there. She has performed "miracles" and she asks for money or "gemstones" when you first visit her cult church...

Man, there are just so many things that are wrong with this whole scenario... I'd ramble for days about them, but I'm tiyuuuurrrrd... So l8r.

 
An amazon.com review:

Ira Progoff's At a Journal Workshop

I don't think I've ever read a book that made me feel like such an idiot! I read Dante when I was 12, and understood the concepts perfectly, and loved the flow of the poetry. I love Shakespeare, and "Hamlet" has to be one of my favorite plays. I can analyze and predict (accurately) patterns that arise in the international arena. I was predicting a war on Iraq the second that Bush first accused Saddam of supporting Al Queda. I KNEW in 2000 that the budget surplus under Clinton would evaporate, and Reaganite spending patterns would be instituted within three years of Bush II's election.

I pride myself on being a smart person, with a huge amount of analytical ability. However, reading the first two or three chapters of Progoff's work left me feeling like I was dragging my head through nonsensical mush! I could not understand what a "Depth Dimension" was, or the philosophy that underpins Progoff's journaling methods. I tried the first exercise in the Log, and found myself lost. First the book said to be brief, and feel the "movement" of my life. Um, what? Find an image, write it down. Who are the people involved in the image, and why is it important? So, I did that, as Progoff was adamant in stating that you should pick up your journal and write the second the book launched into an exercise.

Then I read on to the next page, through mumbo-jumbo and nonsensical language that supposedly "explained" why the log was important, only to discover that the exercise continued two pages later! So much for being brief: the next two pages that asked a series of questions required at least that much more paper in trying to answer them! I shook my head in confusion, and decided to leave those questions as a "jumping off" point for thought. And they triggered none for me.

I put the book aside in frustration for a day or so, determined to slowly plug my way through it. After all, it was supposed to "enlighten" me, right? I found that I was unable to pick it up again. I tried twice to read past page 1 of the subsequent chapter, but I couldn't-- the resistance was just too strong. I couldn't experience "movement" and I couldn't picture myself dipping into a stream of communal experience that supposedly ran underneath everyone's personal well, deep inside somewhere unspecified of the self.

The book was sold to a used bookstore, and I felt considerably freer once it was. The millstone was no longer around my neck, and I could journal in peace and quiet in the way that I wanted. It was nice to be free of that tome-- the book isn't physically light either-- and the metaphysics are heavier than an entire rock quarry.

I don't get it, and I'm amazed that there seem to be a lot of people who do. What's your secret? I'm dying to know! Because I'm feeling pretty darn stupid right about now...

 
So, it's Memorial Day

Of course, being me, I have too many conflicting thoughts to really reconcile what all of it means to me. I think part of my problem is that I just can't accept the simplistic view that all of America's soldiers died to make us "free." Really, after the Civil War, American freedom was pretty much in the bag, and nothing that anyone did from there on out did very little to actually enhance or detract from that freedom. Largely, beyond securing domestic security in 1864, nothing else did much beyond expanding American influence globally.

The US has never had a foreign invader since the early 1800's, and aside from Pearl Harbor, there has never been an attack on the US by another sovereign nation since the last war with the British. So, the whole notion of "fighting to make America free" has been a bit obsolete, considering there hasn't been any threat to US sovereignty in the last 140 or so years. I'm sure even questioning this makes me a "bad American," but I do have a problem with slogans and sayings and beliefs that make no sense at all from a stance based in any sort of reality.

This is not to say that American soldiers haven't done some noble things in trying to fight for others... Clearly, US presence in World War II was necessary, and the soldiers who fought that war, and risked their lives for what they believed the country stood for, should be honored for their willingness to make that sacrifice. But, by fighting in WWII, they did not fight for "our freedom," since "our freedom" never really was in jeopardy from the Germans. Logistically, there is no way in hell that the Germans ever could have made an invasion of the US work-- it would have been an even worse disaster than the attempted invasion of the USSR.

The Vietnam War was definitely not a "fight for freedom" either. How on earth could Ho Chi Minh ever threaten the sovereignty of the US? He couldn't even hold all of Vietnam! And the US was not entering this civil war on the side of freedom: we'd stepped in to back up the French who had colonized the country! This is not to say that the veterans of that war shouldn't be honored and supported for their fighting for this country-- they were fighting to support what they thought was right, and many of them were fighting because they'd been shipped over there involuntarily. This sacrifice should have earned them support for the rest of their lives, and the fact that it hasn't is a real disgrace! I think this government should be very ashamed of how these men and women have been treated after sacrificing so much of their lives...

I don't even know if I'm making any sense. I have a problem with the idea of honoring these people for fighting for "our freedom." I think, instead, that they should be honored for being willing to make (or making) the supreme sacrifice of their lives for the interests of this country. And instead of giving them a single designated day, the country should be supporting and honoring them and their families every day. And this support and honor should come in the form of financial assistance, not just words.

 
I'm in shock!
Blogger now works with Opera! Yay!

I haven't written anything in such a long time-- mostly because reality has been rather vexing and rather hard to write about. I know I need to so that I can get a lot of this dreck out of my system, but it's been a little too emotionally wrenching lately for words. Work is a totalitarian illogical fishbowl in which you have no privacy and get in trouble for doing what you're supposed to. I've had two interviews for things I really don't want, and have one pending for something I really want. I've got the fingaz crossed, but I'm not too optimistic. I'm tired, but also excited about this improv class I started on Tuesday-- it's a ton of fun-- the most silly fun I've had in years! So I dunno, I'm lost...

 
Hmmm... more loner musings

I was talking to my boyfriend about the whole "loner" thing, and the Loner's Manifesto. It started to hit me just how pathological both extreme lonerism and extreme social orientation are.

Rufus mentions in Party of One a couple of workplaces that are almost pathologically social, due to the over-social orientation of the leadership. In one of them, Good Vibrations, the vaguely feminist sex-toy store, the CEO/founder thrives when there are meetings that result in a lot of pointless chatter, especially when it's simultaneous, and goes nowhere. She's personally insulted when someone tries to end the meeting to "go home and think about" some of the ideas presented. She feels horribly lonely after the meetings are over. In this light, the company is apparently highly social, with lots of events and chatter, and constant small-talk. No room for in-depth thought, no room for a little quiet and introspection.

I'm not sure what it is, but this sort of environment reminds me a bit of Huxley's dystopia, Brave New World, in which the denizens were constantly on the move, from party to party, stimulation to stimulation, and addicted to happiness pills. One can only pity those of us who are introverted, rather like (damn I can't remember the misfit character's name) Bernard (?) who is constantly at risk of being shipped off to Antarctica due to his lack of "socialization." Too little thinking is pathological... too little solitude creates people with all of the dimensionality of a pancake. People are dulled by incessant chatter, incessant gossip, incessant small talk. Small talk breeds small minds.

On the other hand, some of the loners that Rufus mentions, include nuns and monks who sealed themselves inside the walls of churches, and lived there solo, with only someone to remove their waste and bring their food, a small slot for ventilation, and a single cross for company. These people stayed in there in some cases for life! She mentions saints who sealed themselves inside of trees, or lived their entire lives in small cells wearing chains, etc., to bring them closer to a diety. Complete, or almost complete isolation is just as pathological... no social skills, no sense of human empathy develops when one isolates oneself. Sometimes there is great creativity as a result, and sometimes, sociopathy.

I don't know what to make of it. I'm a bit of a loner, but I love to spend time with people, and sometimes I love to strike up conversations with strangers. I need people, I need the middle ground. I can't shut off my needs to be alone, but I'm not willing to shut off my need for others. There has to be something in between a vaguely Huxleyan dystopia, and extreme isolationism, but it doesn't seem as if there really is that possible in today's society. Rufus' lonerism has some appeal, but is far too isolating, and the extreme "team" atmosphere that is manifesting itself more and more in both the for-profit and non-profit worlds limits creativity, diversity, individualism and thought. But this is not a society of moderation-- you're doomed to pick one or the other.

The best I can do, I think, is follow my impulse and sign up for an improv acting class. I've been a little too isolated and bookish lately ;-)

 
Hehe, why I'm so bad at small talk...

Just read a bit of amusing advice about how to improve your small talk on Amazon.com, and ran across this little gem of a paragraph:

HAVE SOMETHING GOOD TO SAY
Find ways to increase your range of interesting topics by either study or experience. Learn to broaden your horizons day-to-day and week-to-week so you will have something of value to talk about. Stay current by reading a high quality daily newspaper like the USA Today. [emphasis is all mine]

Uuuuuuuuuh, yeah, I love reading high quality literature such as Dick and Jane Do Dallas. If this is small talk, I can kinda pass on it. Jeez, what the hell is wrong with covering stuff in depth and really learning about people?

Never mind. I'm not a small-talker...

 
Party of One Part Two

Or just a sort of random coincidental thought:

I was at work last Wednesday, the backorder day from hell, when we found out everything was totally out of stock. Ms. Touchy-Feely had come over to deliver the news in person, and was sitting in the back of my friend's cubicle. I just sort of stood there, kinda gaping, when my friend said, "Join the club-- you just got to miss all the fun yesterday."

I kinda blurted out as a half-joke, "Well, I've always prided myself on being a loner!" But I thought about it a bit, and realized that it is a little bit true. I am a little bit proud that I can survive and thrive on my own without outside assistance. Does this make me insane? Or am I antisocial-- hell, I dunno! LOL

Time to shut up and stop thinking ;-)

 
Party of One

I always knew I was a bit of a loner. I've always valued my privacy almost above all else-- from relationships to friendships to relationships with casual acquaintences. I love to spend time alone, and when I'm alone, I almost never find myself unhappy or bored. I've noticed I get bored easily when I'm around certain other people, though, you know, the super-extraverted ones. In fact, it's in listening to the conversations of these kinds of people that I find myself sliding into a bit of a stupor-- sure they're outgoing, and sure, they try to make you comfortable, but the sorts of things they discuss, from relationships to gossip to non-analytical sports talk, bore the crap out of me. I HATE small-talk-- it's just so irrelevant!

I'd read the reviews on Amazon about this book, and was pretty curious to see what Anneli Rufus had to say in her book, Party of One: the Loners' Manifesto. Anneli is more of a loner than I am-- I really do like people a lot, and a lot of times I really enjoy getting the chance to talk to them about real issues and real events that have real significance. I've gotten into some interesting conversations with a couple of people at my districts, and that's the part of my job (the ONLY part) that brings me a little joy.

But I do like my time alone, and my chance to recharge and use my imagination-- things that I can't do when I'm trying to make stupid conversation about the weather, people's children, trying to bite my tongue about my thoughts on the Iraq war, or dealing with conversations about hair or shoes or clothing. I hate this sort of stuff with a passion. I always hated it, from the time I was a child, and I would go off and play and imagine all on my own. I hated it when I was debating politics when I was in the 3rd grade. I hated it in junior high. I haven't stopped hating it for a second. I don't reveal a lot of my private life to these sorts of casual acquaintences, mostly because I think it is mine, and mine alone. I only share with who I wish to share it with, and I know that puts a lot of people off, the sorts of people who share everything, from their kids' secrets, to their sexual fantasies, to their feelings about their spouses, to anyone they can talk to. I don't trust these people for anything-- the people who sit in the cubicles across from me. The people who blab the knowledge they have about coworkers to the entire company. And my silence is almost a sin...

I guess I'm picky. I guess I'm bored by networks and people's lives. That's not really that true, actually-- I'm fascinated when I can make that elusive sort of connection, the one that lets you ask questions, and realize that you have a lot in common with another. It doesn't happen often-- usually there has to be some sort of commonality or some sort of shared interest or some shared way of communication that skips the, "How's your wife? Oh good! Did you know my grandson is having an operation?" kind of thing. Or the, "Did you see Survivor last night?" sort of inquiry. I don't, I haven't, and I never will. Who cares?

It was nice to see, on reading Party of One that I wasn't the only one who thought that way! I just remember as a child, all of the harassment my mother gave me about "getting outside" and playing with other children. I was forced to join a swim club and go to meets to socialize, mostly, I think. I got bugged and badgered about getting involved in school events, and was constantly compared to one of my neighbor's daughters who was a cheerleader, and a student council member. I never wanted to be, mostly because I didn't give a damn. I wanted to be left alone to think and read as I chose, and to imagine and do as I liked. Anneli's mother forced her to join the Bluebirds-- something I never had to do, luckily. Instead I had to go to ballet classes, and I think I got some flack for not going to rallies. I had to attend this Baccelaureate thingie when I graduated, a religious hell-ceremony, because my mom did. My own inclinations to be alone and think were ignored.

I am a bit of a loner, I guess... One of the things that I can really do to recharge is go off somewhere strange alone for a weekend, and just explore where I want to go, all on my lonesome. I don't want to get to know people, but I will chat if I have to. It's not really voluntary, so much as it is reflexive. I don't know... Rufus' book resonated with me more than I would have liked, since I can be very social at times.

I don't know what to make of it, really...

 
Last night...

...I had the weirdest dream-- and I woke up remembering almost all of it!

Well, anyway, it was Thanksgiving or some other holiday, and I was trying to go visit my mom and step-dad in Visalia, or some god-awful place in the Central Valley (they both hate it there, so that was really weird), and I'd gotten a ticket to leave out of O-town International at 9:30PM. For some reason, I lost my car, so I ended up trying to walk to the airport with a dress I was going to wear the next day. Ended up taking some nice shortcuts through gorgeous terrain, and ended up hitching a ride with some nice bikers who got me to the airport at 9:28. I tried to find the gate and the flight, only to find out they'd overbooked, and I'd have to go ride in the copilot's seat. The pilot was a lady from one of my districts, and she was trying to get the overloaded plane to take off.

She taxied down the runway, but it didn't work. She taxied down Hegenburger Blvd., which got us halfway lifted off. Then we did a little more taxiing into this one really gorgeous area of Oakland that only exists in my imagination. Half of us were offloaded from the plane, and got to check out EBMUD (East Bay Municipal Water District) headquarters, which was just lovely and totally spiffy. The plane still wouldn't work ;-)

End of dream LOL