Why, oh why didn't I write about "Stranger in a Strange Land" when I had actually just finished reading it? It's been at least a year (two?), and although I know it moved me and changed me and set me on a new path, I feel as if I can only talk about its points in relation to what other people are saying about it. Because I didn't capture those personal responses to the work immediately. I'm going to regret that forever, I know, because you can never re-read a book for the first time.

I know that it changed me in two ways: it returned some of my hope about life and humanity, and it put me on a new path that has reinforced that hope time and again. This book set me on the path to devour all things Heinlein. And with very few exceptions, each of his works has brought me to that place of "Oh my god, yes!" again and again. I don't think I'll ever be able to adequately describe the effect that Robert A. Heinlein has had on my life, or my great sorrow that I've only discovered him so long after his death.

This book moved me because it expressed so well my core beliefs about myself and humanity, beliefs that I have never been able to properly name, beliefs so slippery and elusive that I forget about them and have to be reminded. What does it say about me that I have to be reminded of a personal belief in hope?

Something that has bubbling to the surface over the years, the same something that caused me to start a new blog, was momentarily brought to the surface and shown in a shining light. A connection with and hope for humanity. The realization that yes, it may be paradoxical, but it's time to face the truth that although I am an atheist-leaning agnostic, I seek out and yearn for and suspect there is meaning to life. There is enlightenment to be had, if only we can let ourselves open up to it. Life can be chaotic and random, but somehow serendipity and fate can still occur. Without some overlord or god or grand designer. I can't explain it any better than that, maybe because I haven't been enlightened. I suspect it is merely the journey to enlightenment that *is* enlightenment.

But I was going to talk about this book, about Valentine Michael Smith, the human raised by Martians who became a sort of messiah. As I said, because it's been so long, I can't remember the details well enough and have to describe my reactions to the book as a response to what others have said.

I'm going to attempt to respond to the GoodReads review written by "Christy".

1. She has a strong response to the ugliness of the word "grok". I can sympathize with this, truly. I definitely feel like there are words that sound or feel "ugly", and "grok" is definitely one of them. But at some point I got over that, possibly at the point that I actually figured out the true meaning of the word. Something I suspsect that Christy has defined in a slightly different way than I have, which could explain a few things.

2. She sees a bit of hypocrisy in Heinlein's critique of religion and his use of religion to get his point across, saying that using religion as manipulation is too cynical for her taste and goes against the "Thou art God" philosophy. This is where I begin to suspect she has a different definition of the word "grok", as well as the concept of "thou art god", but I want to get to that later, as it's the meat of everything.

3. "The sexism of the text, which is inseparable from its heteronormativity and even homophobia." Yep, she's got me there. I still can't get over that line, "Nine times out of ten, if a girl gets raped, it's partly her fault". shudders But it's easier for me to give him a pass on the sexism than it is for homophobia. I just don't understand where the homophobia comes from. It is so very much against everything that I've come to love about Heinlein as I've read more and more of his work. Which makes me wonder about it. A comment on Christy's review by "Stew" suggests much of the book's offenses are contrived to be offensive, as their own commentary on things wrong with society. Speaking of the sexism, I don't think so. But the homophobia? Maybe. I can't recall much, if any, homophobia in any of the other works that I've read by him. I just don't know what to do with these sentiments. They will probably always be the most disturbing thing to me about Heinlein.

Why is it less disturbing when confronted with the sexism? Mostly because it's pretty much in all of his books. It's difficult to stomach, but you eventually have to roll your eyes and move on. Because at some point you have to remember that no one is perfect, and it's ok to recognize someone's contributions without letting their faults overshadow their good works. Do you point it out? Hell. Yes. Do you ruminate and question and let it frustrate you? Yes. Then you set it aside and move on. One does not judge the Constitution by the way it sets up how to count slaves. Critique it, yes, but don't throw it out. It being a living document, in fact you work to change it, while keeping the historical records as a remembrance of how times have changed.

One does not ban Huckleberry Finn for its use of the "N-word", but instead focuses on its message that black people are human. One does not judge the sermons of Martin Luther King Jr. for its heteronormatism or religious content, but for the message of overall equality. One does not throw out the contributions of Margaret Sanger for access to birth control because she support eugenics. To be clear, I'm not suggesting that Christy has done this. No, this is me explaining part of my reasoning for giving Heinlein a slap on the wrist rather than a beating for his sexism.

All of that aside, I have a more slippery reason. I think it's part of Heinlein's sexuality. Yes, I will go so far as to say that I think Heinlein himself was sexist. Time and again, Heinlein's male characters physically dominate the strong women they are drawn to. The scenes are like an eroticized breaking of a horse: the two fight for dominance, the man uses physical force to still the woman into true submission until she stops fighting and listens, he tells the woman how maddeningly feisty she is and how she is never to do "x" again and by the way she is the most amazing woman ever and so beautiful and intelligent and awesome and lets have babies now, she melts into his arms and their relationship is instantly transformed into one of loving hen-pecking and hot sex and adoration and baby making. The man and woman instantly understand everything about each other and all the conflicts from before this moment become silly endearments. The woman can be as "uppity" as she likes until the man raises an eyebrow, then she instantly knows she has crossed a line and with contrition she acknowledges that of course it is her duty to defer to his judgement in the matter.

Bleck. But... I can't ignore how very much this sounds like the relationship between a true Submissive and his/her Dominant partner. Yes, I'm talking about "BDSM" culture. I'm talking about a very real, valid, and contemporary (as in it's not just 1950s prudish patriarchy) form of sexuality.

Feminism is still divided strongly between sex-positive and sex-negative views. I am strongly a pro-sex feminist. Some of the anti-pornography and anti-dominance arguments I can understand, even occasionally agree with. But overall, I see sex as a positive human endeavor, pornography as a way to enjoy it, and submission/dominance relations as valid forms of sexuality. In light of that, I strongly suspect these scenes are exactly in-line with Heinlein's personal views. His work is filled with social commentary, much of it along liberal lines, but by no means is he a "flower-child". The man is pro-military and anti-democracy for crying out loud. These are just facets of his world view that we must accept as part of Heinlein, and move on from there.

Also, I am very frustrated with the entire second paragraph in the 3rd point of Christy's review. I don't see the problem with Jill's leap to the conclusion that appreciating poronography makes sense. It about sums up how I feel on the matter: it's ok to want to be looked at and it's ok to look. Pornography as an industry may have issues of power, and I have a big problem with the everyday objectifying of women as sexual objects in order to sell products, but I don't think pornography itself is wrong or anti-feminist, nor do I feel that seeing a person as a sexual object is wrong. The quote about Jill's relief at not having lesbian tendencies is troublesome. Part of me ridiculously holds out hope that we can take the comment at face value - that Jill wasn't ready for that much change, but that it isn't necessarily commentary on homosexuality. But of course, there's all the rest of the anti-homosexual sentiment to quash this. *sigh* But where does Christy get the impressions that Jill thinks "women are the spectacle, never the spectator" and "women's role in sexual behavior is essentially passive"? I find this whole paragraph to be too close to the sex-negative view point for my comfort.

4. Christy's response to the "emphasis on self" is where she completely loses me. She says "but if feeling good and being happy are the primary goals of life, then that opens the door for abuses of others in the name of love or happiness and seems a rather meaningless goal in and of itself. Hedonism alone is not enough for me."

Well damn. Crap on toast, woman, hedonism is basically the core of my entire life view. But for the love of all that is unHoly, how does any of this "open the door" to abuse and make life meaningless? Christy ends her review contrasting Heinlein's view that God is in all of us with Vonnegut's view that there is no god anywhere, saying that she finds Vonnegut more appealing. I've yet to read any Vonnegut, but I can see how someone can believe that view is more realistic or true. But more appealing? She faults Heinlein's finding meaning in the physical as too meaningless, but favors Vonnegut's view that life is meaningless? How can you prefer meaningless but fault someone for being too meaningless? It makes no sense to me. It makes me scratch my head so much, I wonder if I've misunderstood it somehow. (She thinks Mike duping people into knowledge via false religion is "too cynical", but Vonnegut's no god scenario is "appealing"? Huh???)

But this is a good transition back to my feeling that Christy does not define "grok" the way that I do, and that the definition goes to the core of my beliefs.

Christy bemoans "philosophy that believes that YOU are the center of the universe, that everything will work out for the best." She mentions The Secret, something that I haven't read (because I suspect I won't like it and there will be much eye-rolling), so I don't understand her "name-it-and-claim-it" comment. Working out for the best... huh?

As stated, Mike's lesson for humanity isn't religion. Christy doesn't see that although the word "God" is in there, "Thou art God and I am God and all that groks is God" has nothing to do with any "God".

I'm not Heinlein, and I'm not the character Michael or any other Martian, but I have always understood that to "grok" is to understand the existence of something completely and implicitly. And essential to this understanding is that there is no one thing to understand, there is no God or creator or meaning, there is no me and there is no you. Everything just is. Everything is Everything. There is no chair or you or Martians or books or God or... I suspect no love or hate or fear or action or movement or... anything. Because all there is is everything. There is no ONE thing. There is just EVERYthing, which is one thing. To grok is to understand this. To use Michael's mind powers, one simply taps into Everything, to be One with the All. It's that simple. This isn't religion. It is fact. The meaning of life is that life and unlife and existence is... existence.

Everything is Everything.

It's not cynical to dupe people with religion. It's using religion to bring them closer so you can whisper to them that there is no religion, there just is. The lesson is not religion. The lesson is that we are all part of a single existence. It's easy to say "single entity" here, but I don't think that's right either.

I was in tears when Michael told the ant "Thou art God", not because the ant is part of God and so is Michael and therefore everything will be ok in the end. No, "God" is merely a human name for something unnameable. "God" is the name for the realization that everyone and everything that ever was and is and will be is All. He was saying hello and goodbye to himself. He was acknowledging there is no death. I believe the only reason he uses the word "God" at all is because it is the closest word in the English language that comes anywhere close to covering it.

And this is as close to something that I can believe in as I've felt since I realized I didn't believe in God when I was 18. It's how I can be an atheist and say there is meaning to life. Do I believe that if I can truly transcend, to somehow actually BE the concept of everything is ONE, that I could then manipulate the things around me? Make my own reality? No. Maybe. It would explain some of the unexplainable phenomenon. It would explain afterlife and quantum physics and ghosts and non-linear time. Because there is no time either. There just IS. Psychic phenomenon*, all of it. Because everything just IS.

Maybe when I die, all of me will just BE everything else, and everything will sigh in relief that everything is finally one Evertyhing again, and I will know that it's all ok. I'll know how it all ends, I'll know the meaning of life and the universe and god, because I always will be and always have been Everything. Or maybe not. Probably not. But I like this idea better than anything I have ever heard. And it sounds much more probable than anything else too.

*Heinlein's book "Beyond This Horizon" and Arthur C. Clarke's "Childhood's End" both imply the psychic phenomenon can be explained by the fact that time is non-linear. If there is no time, or if everything that happened/is happening/will happen all happens at the same time, then having fore-knowledge of something is just that person having tapped into non-linear time.

So apparently I am behind on an internet bandwagon. Again. This is what happens when one decides the internet is a cesspool and it's time to take a break. More crap bubbles to the surface, everyone yells about it and moves on, and then I show up and see the end results and am left wondering what the fuck happened.

Well, this happened: more young American women are being sucked into anti-feminism, this time through a "feel good" campaign of posting selfies on Facebook that are all about attacking other women, and they don't even realize that the thing they are the most upset about is exactly what they are doing to other women.

I wanted to write about one of the official "Notes" there by the Page's owner, and who knows when I'll find time to do that. Instead, I'm going to tackle this single point made over and over again on the page that I woke up this morning obsessing about.

Here is the shortest, sweetest example, posted in a selfie:

"I don't need feminism because...
I have been shamed by them for not fit in their ideas"

It seems that if you scroll through the page to see the Selfies, read the posts, peruse the comments, a consensus emerges: "I don't need feminism because feminists aren't like me." Actually, it's usually something closer to "I'm not a feminist because feminists are bitches."

Where is the insert-Neon-Sign-of-Irony-here button? For those of you who didn't catch it, these women are posting again and again and again that feminism is bad because it's mean, while they themselves are doing what they allegedly "hate": judging other women.

Almost a year ago I wrote something that desperately needs to be heard by the current generation of women in this country. Alas, I don't think my 3 readers made much of an impact. Oh well. I can only try. I titled it You, Dear Reader, Are a Feminist. Here's the gist, "If you are reading this, there is a 99% chance that I know and respect and love you. And everyone I know and respect and love is a feminist. Some of you just don't seem to realize it."

But none of the women posting on this Page seem to be aware of any of the irony, or of the facts. They are tied up in their own emotions. Which is understandable. Which is reasonable. Which is feminist. Which is human.

I would like to ask these women a few questions, to see if I can lead them with logic to a realization which their emotions seem to have left them blind.

First, when was the last time you stopped liking chocolate because you stumbled upon a bad dollar-store-quality bar of the stuff? Don't like chocolate? How about coffee? Pizza? Beef*? Carrots? OK, you don't like any of that stuff? Fine. My point being: when did you ever let a single bad experience with your favorite food make you hate that food for the rest of your life?

This analogy is lame though, because food just doesn't rise to the level of this debate. Also, it's silly of me to think these women are anti-feminists because of a single experience. I get that. I really, truly do.

So on to my second question. "Did you stop liking men because you had a truly noxious guy hit on you once or thrice or fifty times?" Think about this, ok? If you are into guys, surely you are still into them even after the inevitable "toad" has come on to you. Surely you still want to hook up with the opposite sex even though Jimmy in 4th grade pulled your hair. Surely you love or hope to fall in love with a man even though you dated 5 guys in a row who turned out to be complete jerks. Because one man or fifty, those guys can't change who you are at the core: a heterosexual.

And still lame, I know. Not 100% true. Our experiencies do change us, even at the core. My experiences with men have made me fear them. But I still like them. I still desire them*. But I know there are those whose fear goes beyond mine. Women who have been violently assaulted or raped by a man may find themselves too changed by the experience to have the same relationship with sex and/or men that they did in the past. Oh, also, you might be gay. But I really think that if you are same-sex oriented, you can figure out how to translate the previous passage into something more relevant, ie "Did a bad date with a girl ever turn you off of girls for good?"

So now I'm going to step it up a notch. Ready girls*? When was the last time you let some other person who claims to share your religion drive you from your faith? Are you pro-life? You do know that there are pro-choice Christians out there, right? Are you a Muslim who has nothing against Jews? I'm sure you've heard that there are Muslims who hate Israel. Are you a Southern Baptist who hopes to some day see your sister marry her lesbian partner? I don't think I have to tell you that there are plenty of people who share your faith who would actively work to keep your sister from such a happy day.

When was the last time you let someone else's faith dictate your own? Never? Good. Welcome to feminism. Still not buying it? OK, ok, maybe you're an atheist. Or worse, you're like me, a "recovering Christian". I'll be the first to admit that my experiences with people of faith had a HUGE impact on me and my decision to turn away from religion and faith in general.

That leaves me with one final question then. Oh, I think I could have found other levels between "faith" and this last step, but I think it's time I just came out and said what was really on my mind.

When was the last time you let another human being convince you that you are not human?

Hitler was a pretty poor excuse for a human, am I right? Jeffrey Dahmer comes to mind. I personally loathe Ann Coulter and Newt Gingrich. Maybe you hate Annie Sprinkle and that chick that wrote the Vagina Monologues*. Your 3rd grade teacher? Your step-dad? The guy who stole your virginity? The girl who broke your heart? It doesn't matter.

Nothing any human ever does to you or to others will ever change the fact that you are human. It is who you are, period. Short of some Frankenstein-level science, there's no changing it.

So by all means, hate feminism. Tell the world you don't need it. Tell the world you're not a feminist. It's your right. But at the end of the day, try to remember that you're human. And I'm human. And that bitch who bullied you because you want to be a wife instead of a lawyer is a human. Then close your eyes, take a deep breath, and remind yourself that more importantly, you're still a feminist.

Because the definition of feminist isn't bitch. It's not bully. It's not abortion. It's not gay rights. It's not anti-men. It's simply the belief that women are equal to men. Period. Welcome back to the fold!

*Yep, I'm a feminist. Even though I'm not vegan, I am attracted to men, I still call women "girls" and I'm not offended when anyone else does it, and I don't know the name of the writer of The Vagina Monologues.

Dude: Date me or get raped.

Internet: What. The. Fuck. PIG.

Dude: Bitch, I didn't actually rape you! Look at what this guy said about how rape isn't bad! I just think rape is funny, he thinks rape is ok.

The Internet: RAGE.

When I was a preteen, I moved from Hawaii to Washington. When writing back home to my friends, I liked to add a p.s. that went something like this, "Write Back Soon - or I'm sending the Beastie Boys to Rape You!" I thought the Beastie Boys were ugly. I thought rape was something... unreal. Nobody actually does anything like that, right? So sending ugly dudes to commit a mythical sin upon the bodies of your best friends was sooo damned funny to me.

I recalled this only recently and I'm horrified at my past-self. Today, I'm wondering about this kid at the exact same high school I attended (was I still writing shit like this when I was in high school? I can't remember.) - how horrified is he going to be in 20 years? I wrote a p.s. in a letter to some friends. He used Twitter and has thousands of followers.

from scootius.tumblr.com: facebooksexism-thisiseverydayracism

I wanted the rest of the story. He posted the infamous Prom Rape Joke in April. The guy tweets so much, it took me over 10 minutes to get down to the May tweets about his suspension. About another 5 minutes to find his pseudo-response to the whole thing:

Please read this if you think I'm a rapist
the-problem-with-slacktivism-rape-jokes-are-not-okay-and-neither-are-death-threats-nsfw … You're uneducated for believing everything you see on the internet.

It is an interesting read. A very calm, level-headed, look-at-all-sides-of-the-situation type post. The kind of thing I strive for in my own commentaries, with varying success. It misses the mark though. But I didn't even need to say that. "Anonymous" did it for me in the comments (intelligent comment discussions on a blog post?! holy shit!). I swear, I was asking myself if I had written this and blanked it out, it just sounds so much like what I would say. And it's 11 paragraphs long! But I swear I didn't write it!

[if the link doesn't properly send you to the comment, scroll down to 18 May, 2014 @ 7:00pm]

I've written about rape culture before. And one of my biggest pet peeves is a guy who responds to criticism by pointing out someone else's (my) bad behavior to take the heat off (not naming names, as that would get me divorced). But I don't know whether to rage or cry or just shake my head. I don't understand how someone so entrenched in social media (he tweets so much that I had to scroll 17 times to read just one day's worth of tweets) can be so fundamentally clueless about (a) the repercussions of tweeting anything controversial, (b) the ridiculous amount of rape threats being made by trolls across the internet on a regular basis, (c) the concept of "trigger" words or phrases that cause rape and other PTSD victims to relive their trauma every time it's even mentioned, and (d) pointing people to a blog written by someone else asking for mercy is not an explanation of your actions or a retraction or an apology. There are some great satirists out there. It's a human tradition. Posting a picture of an offensive joke, not explaining yourself, then vilifying/name calling/ignoring/redirecting those calling you out is NOT great satire. It's just a joke by a kid proving how totally and completely clueless he is about what real life as an adult is all about.

He (vaguely) claims the satire is to point out rape culture. If that was his intent, he should have known why rape culture is so harmful. He should have known what it actually is. He should have known that he would offend people. He should have accepted graciously the comments (no, not the death threats) by people pointing out that he was actually contributing to the culture he was allegedly trying to point out. He should have been willing to engage in conversation. He should have learned something. I don't see any of these points as true, so I have to doubt the veracity of his claims. Calling a joke satire after the fact does not make it satire.

Finally, one of the more frustrating things about this is the Lady Texan blogger's attempt to shame the people who called this kid's school.

Um, no.

Is he a kid? Sure. Can kids commit acts that need to be reported to the proper authorities? You bet. Is it up to those authorities to decide what to do with the information? True.

Once again, the moral of the story that everyone is missing more and more lately: it is not anti-acceptance to point out and refuse to accept improper behavior. It is completely reasonable to demand every one of us be human to each other and to face the consequences when we ourselves slip up. The United States is not an anarchy. We can accept a lot, but we will not/should not accept harmful behavior. Harm can only be defined by the victim, not the attacker. We have given authorities the right to judge whether harm has been committed. So we take our case to them. If it's dismissed, that's another matter. But you don't silence victims, regardless of how anyone else views the allegations they make. If they say there is harm, they have been harmed enough to say it. Whether or not that is enough to have real consequences is not up to bystanders to decide. So can everyone please stop shouting down the whistle-blowers?

ps: calling someone out is not "slacktivism"
pps: cyber-stalking is bad
ppps: death threats are bad
pppps: the kid has mentioned suicidal thoughts, so back the fuck off. No, we don't know if he meant it. Doesn't matter.

For those of you who know me a little, I might appear to be polite, "nice", maybe a little innocent or naive or shy. For those who know me a little more, you might add "kind" but remove the "innocent". If you think about it, hell if I think about it, you may come to the conclusion that I am one of those people who wants to be liked. However, the reality is that I truly just want to be understood, and second to that respected for the truth of who I am, even if you don't like that person. In all honesty, I can be a little mean, I can certainly be bitchy. I am the Queen of Whine, Sarcasm, and Understatement. Above all else, I strive to be Fair. In a disagreement, I want all parties to understand each other and hopefully respect each other's positions - I will usually break out into "moderator" mode to attempt accomplishing this. I find willful blindness infuriating. If you are going to hate something, you sure better understand it completely before you pass judgement. And for fuck's sake, be civil about it.

So it was more than a little surprising to me when I found myself banned from an Atheist forum. I was more than a little bit hurt. Being a Stay-at-Home Mom to a little one who doesn't yet talk, it was a nice place to find a few minutes (ok, hours) a day to rub some brain cells together and enjoy some adult conversation. Of course, that really depends on your definition of adult, but I at least always attempted to remain adult and civilized on the forum.

I was actually getting a bit annoyed with some of the members of the forum. It was getting a little predictable - far too many "let's bash religion X" posts, far too few topics that required critical thinking. I'm hard pressed to think of a single new thing I learned over the course of the few months I was active. Other than atheists have about as much in common as any two religious individuals picked at random. Or that interacting with so many people who do not speak English as their first language and who have so little in common can be quite eye-opening and frustrating and nerve-wracking.

But I tried. I really, really did. On occasion, I did stoop to berating the willfully ignorant. I'm not proud of this. But when everyone else is doing it, and the person is making you just so angry, it's a bit difficult to resist the temptation to drop the pretense of rational, civil discussion and just let loose your own angry tirade.

As far as I can tell, my few slips into confrontational jerkism had nothing to do with my ban. I usually received a pat on the back. And always, always the instigator of assholistic ignorance in these circumstances was banned. Let me repeat that: every time I stooped to a low level, the person I deemed to attack was banned, I was usually congratulated and/or agreed with, and no one on "my" side was banned.

So finding myself banned has me scratching my head. I have gone over and over in my head what could have caused it. I had few interactions in the 24 hours prior to my discovery of the ban. Oh, FYI, Facebook does not tell you when you're banned. And when you are banned from a Closed Group, you can't see the page any longer. Facebook somehow takes direct links out of your history for crying out loud. Searching for the group does not pull them up. In order to confirm that the group did not simply disband, I had someone else search for the group on another account from a different device. The group still exists, it still displays over a thousand members, it's still listed as a Closed group that displays the +Join option to another Facebook user.

So, was I accidentally deleted in a large culling of the ranks? A Group Admin had asked the Group if it was time to do this the previous day, but before an official decision was announced, that discussion devolved into some discussion of some sci-fi reference I didn't understand.

Was it my response to the member who asked how the (Christian) lunatics could be running the asylum? I rambled off a few things about Christianity contradicting itself that really bugged me, like hatred of "unnatural" gays born in a world created by a "God" who is the creator of all life in all forms who thus by definition cannot be unnatural or a mistake. How did all-powerful God allow Satan, his creation, to rebel? Why does he let the guy stick around? I mentioned a particular lack of understanding of American Christians, since Americans seem to share a DNA quirk of hating any sort of tyranny or rule by anyone other than the self, and yet American Christians are perfectly willing, happy even, to bow down and worship a God who allows so much human suffering. End comment. No anger, no bad words, just an honest feeling of dismay. The original poster "Liked" my post.

Was it my post in a L-O-N-G thread that had turned in a new direction the day before when I posted something about Evolution? My post this day began with "Way to take my analogy and run way, way left field with it guys." It went on to explain that I hadn't posted about evolution to somehow say I doubted it, but that there had been some arguing about "faith" and "belief" and some others had made comments about how frustrating the English language can be when we don't all agree on our definitions - because this was really what was at the core of this "argument", differing definitions of "faith" and "belief" - and so I posted a link to how scientists can't even agree on whether Evolution is theory or fact or theory AND fact. We had been arguing semantics, I was annoyed and so brought up another argument of semantics, and I come back the next day and my comment had begun a new argument of semantics. I also called out one person and asked him why he thought this other person was an evolution denier, when in truth he had never said such a thing but rather was trying to explain why he was in the camp of evolution still being "theory".

The Group Admin "Liked" my post. He responded with something along the lines of "and thus the evolution of a post." I loved that. I hit "Like" on his post. The end.

So we arrive to the my third and last interaction with the group. Someone had posted a link to and a copy/paste of a cutesy, feel good story about a professor on the first day of classes explaining to his students about how to important it is to pay attention to the big things in life that are the real influences on your happiness, to see how small and insignificant the rest of your life's annoyances are - basically, prioritize your relationships. Well, it so happens this professor thought that an important relationship, the first one to mention even, was a person's relationship with "God". sigh. So instead of ignoring that part and seeing the post for what it was - a nudge to remember what's important in life and not sweat the small stuff, most of the responses were negative. They ranged from "what's this drivel doing in an atheist forum?" to "I read up until "God" and then just heard blah, blah, blah" to "I have to read this shit every day, I shouldn't have to read it here". sigh. My response to all of this was something about how I was glad this was posted here, because I can use every nudge I can get to remember to step back and remember my priorities. It's too easy to get sucked into silly Facebook discussions and it's nice to get a reminder to look away and listen to my husband read to my daughter. This post is reminding us that relationships are what's important in life. Some people have a relationship with God, I don't, so I skip over that part.

Within minutes, the Group Admin, the same one whose play on words about evolution I liked so much in the other discussion, posted something along the lines of "Having a relationship with god is akin to having a relationship with the Easter Bunny or Santa Claus." That was ALL he said.

I was frustrated. He seemed to overlook what I'd said about appreciating the nudge to cherish what I cherish in life. He was focusing on the silliness of belief in God.

I have not yet mentioned that the earlier "argument" about the words "faith" and "belief" were between myself, the person accused of being an evolution denier, and a 3rd person I'll call SB. SB had become a bit of a thorn in my side, constantly putting down anything that mentioned faith, belief, religion, or "God"/god. He was really coming across as if he merely wanted the Forum to be a place where everyone either agreed with each other on how awesome atheism was, or spent their time attacking religion. No critical thought or debate or shades of gray or thoughtfulness. Just "agree with me" or "stand with me to hate them". He was the one who said he only heard "blah,blah,blah" after the word "God" came up in that silly copy/paste story about the professor. When someone called him on it, he followed that with the comment about not having to read shit like that "here". Because obviously his life is so tainted by religion, he has no tolerance for it, and wants this to be a place to go to hold up and not deal with it. I hope you are all following the irony of a person tired of religion thinking that an atheist forum is going to be a place of refuge free from discussions of religion.

SB was getting on my last nerve. That the Group Admin was giving him, and everyone else being negative about the post, a free pass to be snide against anything that dare mention "God", really chapped my ass. I waited and dwelled and considered. I took my time. Finally, I came up with a thoughtful response.

I addressed it to the Group Admin my name, and it was something along the lines of "Group Admin, your post gives the impression that you are in the camp with SB that anything/anyone that mentions god/religion is crap. I find this mentality infuriating. 99% of the people that I hero worship have/had some sort of religious belief: Maya Angelou, Audre Lorde, Martin Luther King Jr., Gandhi, Anne Rice… Where would we be if we threw out everything ever made/created/discovered/said by someone of faith?" And I think, or at least I am very, very sure, that was all I said.

Because I was getting very, very tired of the constant need to put down everything and everyone associated with any and all religions. And the Group Admin wasting a chance to call someone, namely SB, on that position got on my last nerve. And so I said something about it. Something calm and rational. The most incendiary thing I said was the word "infuriating". I didn't say he pissed me off, or SB pissed me off, or even the discussion or any single post pissed me off. I said a particular mind-set made me mad, and it seemed that he shared it. This left room for discussion. Was that really the impression he was trying to give? If so, why? If not, call me on it.

No one responded. I went to bed shortly after this. The next morning, I dreaded going to Facebook. I shouldn't have used the word "infuriating". I shouldn't have used it when addressing the group admin. I shouldn't have lumped him in with someone I was annoyed with because he was flippant. sigh I had gone overboard and I was about to be called out for it. Dammit! But when I finally logged on to Facebook, there were no notifications from the board. No one had responded to what I'd said. Huh.

About an hour later, still no response. That's kind of odd. Considering I had left comments on 3 discussions and I should have expected a notification of someone having said something after me in at least one of them, even if it wasn't a direct response to me. I should have gotten some sort of notification about some discussion on the board. And I had none. I opened my Notifications and there were none from the group the day before. Or the day before that. Or… ever. I looked at my Facebook Page in various places and couldn't find anything about the group, nothing that I had ever said there, no mention of me being a part of it. Was it because it was a closed group? I did a search. The group did not come up. I searched my history. My history was blank except for one place, and when I clicked on it, it said the Page could not be Found.

I had Eric search for the group. He found it. I could not even find them in a Search.

I was banned.

No notice. No message. No warning. No evidence I had ever even been there.

Holy Fucking Shit.

It hurt. I'm not going to lie. I do want to be liked. I appreciated the brain stimulation. But what really bothered me was that I had been misunderstood. Somehow, somewhere, I had said something that a Group Admin had believed was offensive. And I had never, ever meant to be offensive to anyone. Not only was I misunderstood, but I was misunderstood on such a grand scale that I was cut off. I was silenced. I was never going to be given the opportunity to explain myself. I was never going to be given to the opportunity to be understood. I was never going to understand why I was not understood.

It was all so trivial. It was tame. It wasn't mean. It was rational. The only swear word I used was "crap".

I don't want to be part of a group like that. I was quickly coming to the realization that they could be just as closed-minded and bigoted a group as a bunch of Fundamentalist Christians.

But I wasn't given the opportunity to air my grievances properly.

And none of us are going to understand each other because the conversation was cut-off mid-sentence.

If only there was a way to go back, read the last page like Harry in "When Harry Met Sally". I will never solve this puzzle because the mean kid packed away all the pieces and took the whole thing home with him.

Bastards. Mother Fucking Cunt-Ass-Bitch Mother Fuckers!

I am an angry feminist. Why? Because the words "feminist" and "feminism" have become warped over the years to the point that a significant part of the population, or my friends and loved ones, don't consider themselves feminists. But in reality, dear reader, you are a feminist. If you are reading this, there is a 99% chance that I know and respect and love you. And everyone I know and respect and love is a feminist. Some of you just don't seem to realize it.

Enter Wikipedia*:
Feminism is a collection of movements and ideologies aimed at defining, establishing, and defending equal political, economic, and social rights for women. This includes seeking to establish equal opportunities for women in education and employment. A feminist advocates or supports the rights and equality of women.

Did you see that emphasis I added there to the end? It's the important bit. Oh, the first few words are pretty damn important - people seem to think there is one definition of feminist thought, and they are wrong, wrong, wrong! - but it's that last bit that makes you a feminist. Yes, you, dear reader, I'm talking to you.

This is something that has been rattling around my brain for quite some time. Many months ago, on a hunch I asked my Facebook friends and family if they consider themselves feminists. I am pleased to report that 8 people said yes, and only 3 people said no. But there were another 4 who gave thoughtful answers without answering the question. I can only assume that if they thought of themselves as a feminist, they would have said so. So that makes 7 people who do not call themselves feminists. 8 vs. 7. I don't like those numbers. It should be 15 vs. 0. Because 100% of you are feminists, I know it.

K said "No. But I DO believe we should get equal pay for equal work."
To K, I say "Equal pay for equal work is a central ideal of just about any flavor of feminism. Welcome to the Feminist Club. Do you want the bumper sticker or the lapel pin?"

P said "Well I'm not a shake-my-fist and yell "woman power" type, but I fully support gender equality. Like K, I'm not into the whole "sewer entrances" thing, but equal pay, equal opportunities, etc. Yes plz."
To P, I say "I really debated with myself on what column to put you under, but in the end you didn't say yes and you didn't self-label yourself as a feminist, so I put you in the "other" column. But I know you're a feminist. I do. I mean, you practically defined the word back to me. Would you like to sit next to K? She had the cookies last."

T said "No, I want to be treated like a human and with respect, forever the sexes are different and I don't wasn't to be treated with disrespect from other women because I'd rather be at home taking care of my family then trying to be all about having money and status in a career. I think women should just support each other, there its to much "in fighting"
To T, I say "I'm so glad you brought this up, because this goes to the core of what modern feminism is all about. Most of the feminists I know are fierce parents, many are stay-at-home Moms. And they demand to have that decision respected. You are a feminist because you choose to put family first - you made a choice about the future of your own life and you have the choice due to the feminists who came before you. So now you and everyone else better honor that or you're kicking butt and taking names. Please take a seat on the bus with your daughter, because I know you are raising her to be just as fierce as you are. There's plenty of room for your beautiful son, too."

H had a whole lot to say on the matter, "No, because the older I've gotten the more I just want to fight for the rights of people, regardless of sex or cultural background. I realize this may be idealistic/unrealistic because there are certain issues that are specific to women but in some ways I feel we have swung too far to one side. We need to find a happy medium and not pit the sexes against each other. We need to work together. My current world view centers around my children and having one of each I find it interesting the differences of how each are treated. Also because of the age of my kids, my focus is mainly on education. I see all these school programs geared toward girls, yet it is the boys that have dramatically fallen behind in school. Boys test lower in all subjects, and recently that includes math and science, more boys drop out of school and more girls go onto college and graduate from college. Women hold the majority of jobs and some how we still get paid lower. That part I don't understand and asked my own Facebook friends what they thought about it. So overall great for women, but now what about the boys? We need to help STUDENTS who need help. Education is just one area of feminism but recently this has been a focus in our family. Certainly there are many parts to feminism - equal pay, crime, health, etc but in an ideal world we should be fighting for everyone but then if everything were equal we wouldn't need to fight so much. Sorry this post was a bit rambling but I do think at the core of feminism was/is equal rights for the sexes but like I said earlier I feel we have now created situations where men have reasons to fight for their own equality but yet we women still aren't completely equal in others. So how about I'm a equalist. Just want to add, that my thoughts apply to the U.S. and other first world countries. In many parts of the world, women are suffering and there is much to be done."
To H, I say "If it's rambling, it was a brilliant, feminist ramble. I just wish you could self-label that way. You are a feminist because you want to fight for people's rights, because you are idealistic, because you want the sexes to work together, because you are concerned about the education of your children, because you rally for boys, because you are an equalist, and you realize that women in other parts of the world are suffering. Come in, take a seat next to your daughter, and make room for your son - with someone as strong, intelligent, and opinionated as yourself as his mother, he is going to be an amazing man who believes in equality.

B said "I am not clear on what it really means. I am in favor of equality. If I am in favor gay rights am I a homosexualist."
To B, I say "Tut tut. I have never said that to anyone in my life, but you get it a second time: tut tut. Don't mince words, I know you speak quite eloquently and know how to use a dictionary. You are a feminist because you are in favor of equality. Why don't you see if there are any cookies left?"

PD said "Interesting because my first thought would be no, but it is a little gray in places. I believe in inherent differences between the sexes as a generality (the average woman tends to be more emotional and the average man tends to be more physical, etc.) I think those differences need to be honored and celebrated. With exceptions, the average woman would make a terrible ironworker and the average male would make a terrible child care worker. Again, these are gross generalities. With that being said, I think there are double standards that need to be eliminated. Watching American Idol with my wife the other night, BOTH female judges were commenting on the male contestants sexiness, manliness, and such. If one of the male judges would have said to a female "I think you are so sexy and hot and I want you to have my baby", there would have been an uproar. At the same time, there are thousands of examples of men getting preferential treatment over women when none is due. I think it is the job of society to make social changes to correct attitudes, not the governments. The government has a role to make standards for themselves and to ensure businesses obey the law, yet I think it goes too far to have them decide or influence wages. I believe any job or position should be on merit alone, the ability to do that job, period. Whether it is race or gender or whatever, that should be the standard, no lower standards for anyone. In the military, women still have significantly lower physical requirements to achieve the same score and get into the same jobs, this is wrong. Men still get significantly more money in business for doing the same job as women, this is wrong also. Again, merit based and nothing else. Where I think feminism goes too far is reproduction issues. I don't think it is the job of government to force taxpayers to provide contraception or abortions for an individual. If we are a merit-based society then each person should be responsible for the decisions they make and what they do with their body. If you want to be on the pill, great. If you decide to have an abortion, that is your right, go for it. However, it is not right to make ME or anyone else pay for your decisions. Where I think feminism succeeds is changing attitudes within individuals. Most great social change starts with grassroots groups changing the hearts and minds of large groups of people to their way of thinking, not government mandating something and people reluctantly following. Equality in the workplace will happen much faster if individuals complain about inequality in their hometown company, which is where large support organizations come into play."
To PD, I say "You never disappoint me when it comes to hard topics requiring self analysis. Would you like to sit down before I continue? I don't want my favorite conservative to fall over when I tell him he's a feminist. You earned your ticket on the bus when you said the word 'celebrated' - celebrating women for being women is most definitely a feminist ideal. Your reaction to women getting away with what amounts to catcalling of men comes from a place of equality, because you made the connection that men would be treated badly for doing the same thing - wanting equality, not domination of a single sex over the other, is the core ideal of most feminists. You believe women should succeed based on their merit. You are in favor of pointing out inequality on the local, personal level. I am most honored to have you aboard."

C threw this out there while she was running by, "I like A's response."
To C, I say "I wish I could put you in the 'yes' column, but technically if you like someone's response, that doesn't necessarily mean you share the opinion. I believe that's what you meant though, and since A self-identified as a feminist, I welcome you to the bus. And let me just take this opportunity to assure you that although you may not have noticed it until recently, I am very aware that you have been a feminist for as long as I've known you and much longer than that. You raised three smart, sensitive, critical-thinking kids with your husband (FYI, I've got a pass for him if he wants to swing by later). You went to college, earned a degree, learned a profession, and pursued it passionately. You care about people and children, you support women who are alone, you give brilliant advice and heaps of moral support. You've travelled the world to help others. That quite possibly makes you the most influential feminist on this list. I salute you."

Is it getting crowded back there? Hey, T, M, P, L, H, V, A, and MD, you all be sure to make room for the new comers and give them a warm welcome. I hope you're not hogging the cookies. All 15 of you have earned your fill. Thanks for making me a happy feminist again, I love you.

So where should we take this bus next?

*For all of you Wikipedia-doubters, Dictionary.com, Merriam-Webster, and Google definitions all agree, almost word for word.

"If consumers found fulfillment at any meaningful level," she extemporized, "Corpocracy would be finished." Thus, media is keen to scorn colonies such as hers, comparing them to tapeworms. Accusing them of stealing rainwater from Rain Corp, royalties from Veg Corp patent holders, oxygen from Air Corp. The Abbess feared that, should the day ever come when the board decided they were a viable alternative to Corpocratic ideology, the tapeworms would be renamed terrorists. "Smart bombs will rain, and our tunnels flood with fire."

I'm currently listening to the audible book version of Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell. The movie made quite an impact, but there were questions that I wondered could they be answered by reading the book. I have had my questions answered, but am sobered by the knowledge that, at least so far, it seems the book is not as optimistic as the movie. You see, the story is one of interwoven lives over hundreds of years, of reincarnated lives actually, and the backdrop is the evolution/de-evolution of human society.

In the far distant future, humanity's last great civilization is a corpocracy of astonishing technology and brutality. The words "citizen" and "consumer" are used interchangeably. It is a frightening glimpse into our possible future. A future I see as much too plausible. Hence, I have been ruminating darkly this past week.

Today, I was linked to two articles within minutes, their inter-connectedness with each other and my current thoughts leaving me breathless with unease.

The first, "Perhaps Culture is Now the Counterculture", A Defense of the Humanities, a commencement address to Brandeis University graduates by Leon Wieseltier of New Republic. Here is a quote:

"The machines to which we have become enslaved, all of them quite astonishing, represent the greatest assault on human attention ever devised: they are engines of mental and spiritual dispersal, which make us wider only by making us less deep. There are thinkers, reputable ones if you can believe it, who proclaim that the exponential growth in computational ability will soon take us beyond the finitude of our bodies and our minds so that, as one of them puts it, there will no longer be any difference between human and machine. La Mettrie lives in Silicon Valley. This, of course, is not an apotheosis of the human but an abolition of the human; but Google is very excited by it."

Then the second article, Is Google God ? by Karthik Karunakaran at Armed With The Truth. To quote:

PROOF #1
Google is the closest thing to an Omniscient (all-knowing) entity in existence, which can be scientifically verified. She indexes over 9.5 billion Webpages, which is more than any other search engine on the web today. Not only is Google the closest known entity to being Omniscient, but She also sorts through this vast amount of knowledge using Her patented Page-rank technology, organizing said data and making it easily accessible to us mere mortals."

As I said, I have been thinking quite darkly these past days about the plausibility of our current culture evolving into one of Corpocracy. It's been in the back of my mind for awhile now, after reading the book Jennifer Government, and then the Supreme Court granting personhood to corporations. My conservative friends talk about jobs going overseas because there are too many restrictions on corporations here, the implication being that corporations be given free reign in pursuit of the All American Dollar. Daily, it seems conservatives would see our capitalistic form of economy grow to become a corpocratic form of government. Does this not frighten them? They worship the dollar with one face, and the Constitution with the other, but they don't see how the dollar could take over and abolish that other half so easily.

Economics not being my strong suit, I must leave those thoughts there as half-formed ponderings. This morning what strikes me is my near-complete aversion to the commencement address by Wieseltier. Why should I respond so negatively?

The lesser reason is the attack against technology. If I am a slave to the American Dollar, I am a willing supplicant to Technology. It is my friend, my lover, my parent, quite possibly my god? Not quite.

The greater reason, the real reason I dislike this piece, is that it rails against the elevation of Science to religion.

Owing to its preference for totalistic explanation, scientism transforms science into an ideology, which is of course a betrayal of the experimental and empirical spirit. There is no perplexity of human emotion or human behavior that these days is not accounted for genetically or in the cocksure terms of evolutionary biology. It is true that the selfish gene has lately been replaced by the altruistic gene, which is lovelier, but it is still the gene that tyrannically rules. Liberal scientism should be no more philosophically attractive to us than conservative scientism, insofar as it, too, arrogantly reduces all the realms that we inhabit to a single realm, and tempts us into the belief that the epistemological eschaton has finally arrived, and at last we know what we need to know to manipulate human affairs wisely. This belief is invariably false and occasionally disastrous. We are becoming ignorant of ignorance.

Did I mention that my Facebook feed has become inundated with posts by my Atheist group? Someone posted a list of "fight the government, fight capitalism, fight the status quo" talking points. A very angsty member went on a tirade against it. Here's a juicy bit:

No - fuck you! Change your fucking attitude and learn to respect history. Change your stupid hippie pink glasses and put something more realistic there. I will keep working and consuming and enjoying my existence because I want and because fuck you. My work is valuable, my time is valuable, and it costs money. And I am glad to be a part of it. I can get debts and then I use them to make more money and bring them back. Because you are incompetent, doesn't mean debt is slavery. It means you make shitty decisions with your money and you blame someone else for it.

He wants to consume. Consume!!! I can only imagine he means more than food. He wants things. And today, that means technology.

I am taken aback. I don't want to be a blind consumer. I don't want to be a worshiper. But I don't like this whole spiel being testified by Wieseltier either. Why. Why?

Have you guessed yet? All of the worship talk I've been interweaving should be a clue. On my mind is not just the dollar and technology but worshipfulness and spirituality and morality.

My problem with Wieseltier is not necessarily his message, but in the manner he is delivering it: a subtle undertone of spirituality. He talks of good and evil, he calls evolutionists "cocksure", he includes a bit about a philosopher who "wondered why God, if He wanted us to know the truth about everything, did not simply tell us the truth about everything." Did you catch the part where he growls at liberal "scientism" for the way it "arrogantly reduces all the realms that we inhabit to a single realm"?

Another article today, this one I didn't bother to read, Kathleen Taylor, Neuroscientist, Says Religious Fundamentalism Could Be Treated As A Mental Illness. Did you hear my jaw drop?

My problem with Wieseltier is that it has drawn out a problem I have within myself. This dancing on the fence between Atheism and Agnosticism. In mixed company, I defiantly proclaim myself as an Atheist, spouting its dogma with passion and no little amount of anger. When I am more myself, I admit that I am instead an "Agnostic", an I-don't-knower, with varying amounts of idealistic whimsy about the possibilities that may exist instead of "God".

Why? Because religion terrifies me. I have seen its works, past and present and imagined future, and there is no better way to describe my reaction to it. Why? Because of what it does to people when they are weak, it takes them over, gives them the strength of self-conviction, turns them into prosthelytizers and skull crackers and Inquisitors and Jihadists. What non-believer can step back and not fear that kind of power?

And so I rally against religion in all its forms publicly. I want it to have no place in my world. I don't even want it to have a toehold. At my worst, I am capable of becoming just as irrational as what I fear. To the extent that I could react with distaste and suspicion to a beautiful and powerful commencement address that should speak to the very heart of me.

I need to remember that place in me that questions all dogma, even my own. I need to remember that place that questions existence and belief and information. I need to remember myself.

That atheist group is currently bickering about true definitions of atheism, not eloquently or rationally, but by name calling in the middle of discussions of the possible existence/non-existence of spirits.

It astonishes me how all of these things so tied into my current psychological/philosophical earworm have appeared in front of me in the space of minutes. This happened to me a few weeks ago, and I let it all slip through my fingers without writing down my response to it all. I let go of something very powerful that could have defined my future so clearly, and I am so angry with myself for letting it go. So I just had to catch onto this smaller re-enactment before that too slid away.

I only hope others out there can follow my thinking. Tying capitalism and atheism and spirituality and technology all together in this rambling piece comes straight from my head where I can see the glowing chords of connection. I hope I've illuminated those connections enough for others to see them as well.

I've had this thing kicking around my head for a few weeks now, this intention to write a Grand Treatise, some sort of Theory of Everything about my worldview. I've just had all these events and ideas pop into my head on a daily basis, building on each other. Unfortunately, writing something as enormous as that while raising a 1 year old is just insanely difficult.

Today, I will bite off a single part.

See, I'm a liberal, flaming variety. I have quite an affection for the term "godless pinko liberal", using it to describe myself often. Over the past 3 years, I've had my eyes opened to the world of Conservatives. I've seen the places where we're not so far apart, and been re-introduced to those chasms where we stare at each other from opposite sides, goggling at each other like the other has 3 heads. This time has helped me redefine myself, it's helped me rethink how I see the world and other people, and it's helped me realize that I'm still a flaming liberal and always will be.

So here's a minor annoyance I have with Conservatives. Some of them seem to have a problem with anyone who calls themselves "progressive". Seems Progressivism is tied to some history that Conservatives think should embarrass us. Just like many still believe Communism is Evil because of Marx's ideas about over-throwing the government violently, some believe calling oneself "progressive" means they support anyone who was ever identified as progressive. I have been told that because I self-label as "progressive", I must know all about and support Margaret Sanger's racist eugenics plan to weed out the "unfit" races.

My response to that is to sit back, scratch my head, and whisper "Wow. Just, wow."

Did you know that the KKK was founded by Democrats? I sure didn't. But today I was told that this tidbit was somehow relevant to the current IRS scandal. Huh? I don't know if it's true, and I don't care. Why? Because the KKK was relevant in small towns over a century ago and has become less and less relevant as time has marched on. I've been told that Democrats were for slavery and Republicans started the movements for civil rights and conservation. Really? Awesome.

Can we get back to today now? To the fact that the Democratic Party elected a black man named Barak Obama to the Presidency? Whatever racists once called themselves, who cares? I'm not a member of the KKK, none of my friends are, none of my family. I don't support eugenics or slavery. You know why? Because I live in 2013 and that is the PAST.

Funny thing about the word "progressive", it has nothing to do with eugenics. It comes from the word "progress", and it's about moving forward. You know, moving away from the past? And the word liberal? It doesn't mean "hates Conservatives", it doesn't mean "fiscally irresponsible", it doesn't mean "plays the race card". Nope, it means open to new ideas. Here is a beautiful definition, "Not limited to or by established, traditional, orthodox, or authoritarian attitudes, views, or dogmas; free from bigotry."

So yes, I'm for progress and against tradition for tradition's sake, so yep, I'm a progressive liberal. Not a member of the KKK who support eugenics. Step into the current century people, and pick up a dictionary while you're at it.

I was hoping to have my 3rd and last post about Forgiveness/Bitterness out of me and up on the blog by now, to be cleansed of it. It's really just a collection of interesting things I found on the net about Forgiveness that I have a LOT to say in response. I've noted it all down, so we'll see whatever comes of that...

Today is huge. It is our 2nd attempt at an embryo transfer. I have been trying unsuccessfully to get into the headspace I want to be in when I go in for the appointment.

I will probably meditate later this morning. I think it's really what I need right now.

Nature is good too, especially the beach. I got some bad news on Tuesday and couldn't believe how yet again I was letting outside influences completely change my emotional state. I was desperate to get out of this funk caused by a simple phone call to set up an appointment! I decided to screw the tide tables and just head out to the beach @ Edmonds. Unfortunately, it was high tide.

One of these days, I intend to start a second blog where I just write about all of the mishaps, ironies, Murphy's Law type stuff I deal with on a daily basis. I seriously think I have reverse luck. That sounds kind of like a downer blog, so maybe I'll just make it a Tag. The thing is, I have reached a point in my life where it happens so often, it makes me laugh. Ever heard of someone put under so much stress/anxiety/danger that they go kind of hysterical, their voice gets higher, they start babbling quickly, and eventually start laughing in a panicky kind of way? Think of Aliens , when Hudson keeps repeating "Game over, man! Game over!" If not that moment, then at some other crucial point he starts to smile and almost laugh - laughing in disbelief.

That will be the title of my blog!

Back to the beach, I found a solitary bench and sat down to watch the water. It did nothing. I almost got up to leave after only a minute, but then I told myself that I came here for a reason, and I should at least relax a little. So I closed my eyes to attempt to relax. Within moments, I could hear the waves on the shore, and I was taken back to other times when that sound has relaxed me and uplifted me. I began to meditate, only concentrating on the sound of the waves as I tried to relax my body section by section. Sometimes, I get the most amazing experience at the end. I get down to my feet, feel my feet on the ground, and something goes through me and into the ground and out into the world, golden tendrils of connectedness. Sometimes it is real, and the experience borders on the religious. Sometimes, I force the image in hopes to spur on the real thing. That's what I had to do, force it. Of course this never works! But instead of giving up, I just went back to focusing on only the waves.

Well, I may not have felt a joyful connectedness to the world around me, but in the back of my mind I was still thinking about the earth and nature and my/our connection to it. A single thought came to me: we are doing it wrong.

It started out as a general impression of humanity polluting the oceans, but quickly grew to other thoughts. They were just flashes, an impression with a vision and an emotion and then it was gone. The ferry, the cars, the ipods , the garbage... these are wrong for the beach, wrong for the planet, wrong for us. Money, television, technology, computers, grocery stores: it's all wrong.

And then the moment was over. But yesterday something Carmen talked about brought it back. The conversation moved from motherhood to parenting to social norms in parenting to cultural differences in parenting. She said in Western culture, it is so important for us to be independent. We live in these small, "nuclear" families with just parents and children. We tell out kids to grow up and be adult and take on responsibility and suck it up - we want them to be as independent and prepared for that cruel outside world when they're finally forced to leave home. Seriously, there are parents who think that because the world is going to be cruel to their child, they need to be mean in order to toughen them up. What?? Shouldn't home be a nurturing place? A place of love and safety? There are non-Western cultures, especially tribal cultures, where family are multi-generational. More people to work and support the home and expenses, more people to parent the children, more attention, more love, a banishment of isolationism.

We are using our cars and the internet and phones and television to reach all parts of the world - but somehow we are managing to increase our isolation at the same time.

More and more, I want to chuck it all and go live on a farm. Raise animals, grow my own food, make my own clothes, watch the sunset instead of television. I seriously believe that what we all need is a kick back into the past before electricity.

The thought is both appealing and horrifying at the same time. I'm addicted to the internet, I like my TV shows, I love listing to the music of any band in the world with the click of a mouse. I'm addicted to money, I like to shop, I want fancy furniture and carpets and a new deck. I love running water, toilets, water heaters, air conditioning. I love to travel, I need modern medicine, I'm germphobic.

I have no useful survival skills. I don't think I can ever slaughter an animal. Starting a vegetable garden would be next to pointless because I can't stand most vegetables. I don't know how to make my own clothes. After watching the sunset, my choices of entertainment will be reading by candlelight or learning to knit.

My body is so broken, I couldn't pull my own weight on a sustainable farm. I simply would not survive the first year after an apocalypse.

I think humanity and the earth could co-exist in a positive way even with technology. I think it would require the elimination of money though. And politics probably. Yah, riiiiight, that'll happen!

Still, I am worried about us. We're just not doing it right.

I was so sure I was pregnant. At my Wellness group, someone asked how I could stand the wait, how could I keep from home testing? I explained that my brain is so untrusting, such a thing would send me to Crazytown - no matter what the test said, I wouldn't believe it until the official blood test, leaving me to suffer through days of worry or false joy. But, I had a plan. I tested myself at home the morning I was scheduled to go in for my blood draw. I guess I really had this urge to pee on a stick...

It was about 5am, most of the world is still asleep, and I'm watching my pee activate a pregnancy test strip. Not once, but twice - negative both times. I somehow got myself dressed and went out to buy another test - surely my tests had been hanging around too long and had gone bad. I had my hoodie up, sunglasses on, tear streaks on my face, and still the checker cheerfully asked me about my day. I couldn't believe how chatty he was. I couldn't believe he wouldn't shut up and wither and die before my eyes. I still can't believe I didn't reach over and cause him physical harm.

Home again, and another failed test. I cried and cried and cried and cried. I somehow lived through the hours until it was time to wake up Eric to take me to the "real" test. He did his best to console me and keep hope alive. At the clinic, they kept us in the waiting room for an eternity. Seriously, it was the longest wait we've ever had there, and all we were there for was to give some blood. Did I mention there was another couple waiting, and I was spontaneously breaking into tears every other minute?

The lab tech did her best to console me. And she seemed genuinely surprised that no one had told me not to self-test because those tests were so unreliable. I kept to myself about the fact that it was 3 tests, and all those commercials they make about how home tests are "just as reliable" as blood tests these days.

I went home and straight into bed. Eric was the one who took the call. He was miserable coming to tell me, but I already knew. I wasn't pregnant. It didn't take.

"It didn't take."

This is the official phrase used by the clinic, my husband, the notifications we emailed.

It is not the phrase used in my head. If I allow myself to be honest, I had a miscarriage.

I was pregnant. An egg was fertilized by my husband, the embryo was implanted inside of me. Even if the loss occurred that very day, the fact remains that I had an embryo in my uterus. I had a baby in my womb. But the embryo was gone. The baby was dead.

The first 48 hours were the worst. I called my mother to ask her to tell me that I was wrong, trying again wouldn't be murder. Because all I could think about was the idea that now I knew my body couldn't support a pregnancy, wouldn't introducing a baby into that body constitute knowingly putting it to harm? Or, in my mind, a death trap. She told me no, that wasn't true. We talked about all the babies still in some lab, waiting to be born. They were already there, waiting for me. I couldn't walk away from them.

In the end, that was what made my decision. 17 embryos sitting in a frozen vat somewhere, waiting to come to life. I had made the decision to have them created, and it was up to me to do right by them. 17 possible babies.

The past few months have been unimaginably hard. Not only because of the sadness and loss and grief, or the gravity of the decision on what to do next, or the feeling of limbo as if my life is pointless until the next implantation, but the realization that my definition of life has shifted. This is big. Like realizing I didn't think god really existed big.

Because I didn't just have a procedure that didn't take. I had a baby in my womb. I had a baby that went away.

When did this happen? How did this happen? Such an extraordinary change in mindset. I had no idea it was possible, that this was in me waiting to happen. How on earth did I go from the belief that an embryo is just a packet of cells to eliminate when necessary, to the belief that on day one I had a real live baby inside of me?

There is a certain politician on the presidential campaign trail who is using her story of miscarriage to explain the evils of abortion. I understand her in a way that I couldn't have before. And yet now she and those that share her belief are even more alien to me. Because knowing there is a baby inside you and deciding to have it aborted is officially the hardest decision a woman can make. And yet, these people still think I'm incapable of making that decision on my own.

I have changed so much, but I am still the same.

The waiting is almost over - the procedure for implantation is scheduled. My last Lupron injection was a few days ago, my last Estrogen (butt) injection was yesterday. I am trying to balance between giddy and calm.

Things they don't tell you in the beginning:

You have to have a full bladder, full enough that you think you will explode.

Implantation is always scheduled for 3 days after retrieval. However, on the morning of day 3 they take a look at your embryos to see if there are any "leaders of the pack". If there are, awesome, implantation continues as scheduled. If there aren't any leaders or, get this, there are too many awesome ones, "it behooves you" to wait another 2 days for further development to make the "winner(s)" more clear. In my case, the call will come just 4 hours before my appointment is scheduled if they need to reschedule. *twitch*

Embryos "react" to strong smells, so no perfumes or other potent scents/soaps/toiletries.

The oocyte (egg) harvest seems very large. Retrieval yielded 31 oocytes, 25 of which were "mature", 21 of which were successfully fertilized into embryos.

The moral implications involved really hit you in the head with the form that they wait to spring on you until the day of retrieval: consent forms to give them instructions on what to do with your embryos in various unpleasant scenarios. It's not... pleasant to think about divorce and death, and it's extra not-nice thinking in terms of what to do with frozen embryos if these things happen. Should I get them or him? Should they be donated to science or another infertile couple? Get this: to donate to an infertile couple, regardless of whether they are known or anonymous to you, YOU agree to pay for all the testing involved for genetic compatibility. How strange is that?

The morality of this whole thing is a constant watcher, sitting on your shoulder, harping at everything, making you doubt and stumble and worry.

We are the owners of 21 embryos, 1-2 of which will be implanted, leaving about 20 to be frozen so they can be used or donated or destroyed at a later date. Or just kept in frozen limbo until one of those "unpleasant" scenarios activates the clauses we consented to. What will I want if this procedure is unsuccessful? What will I want if we have a baby?

This is not the kind of responsibility I want on my hands. But there it is anyway. The link to the debate on abortion seems obvious, making me doubt more than just what we've decided to do, but my own sense of right and wrong and life and death and abortion rights.

In the end, the only thing that has changed is that I am hyper-aware of my own sense of morality. I am more infuriated than ever that anyone feels they have the right to stand on the sidelines and pronounce judgment. Do they really think I am so cavalier about this whole process? That my heart aches just attempting to make these decisions, let alone living with them? I am responsible for deciding what happens to 21 clumps of cells in some petri dishes in a lab somewhere. Could it possibly be any easier to decide what to do with one much-more-advanced embryo already inside of me?

Are you nuts?

Honestly, I cannot recommend this path we've taken to anyone. If someone I know decides to do this, I will offer my insight, my love and support, but not advice. Ditto abortion.

scene from the film Away We Go:

Burt Farlander: Do you promise to let our daughter be fat or skinny or any weight at all? Because we want her to be happy, no matter what. Being obsessed with weight is just too cliché for our daughter.
Verona De Tessant: Yes, I do. Do you promise, when she talks, you'll listen? Like, really listen, especially when she's scared? And that her fights will be your fights?
Burt Farlander: I do. And do you promise that if I die some embarrassing and boring death that you're gonna tell our daughter that her father was killed by Russian soldiers in this intense hand-to-hand combat in an attempt to save the lives of 850 Chechnyan orphans?
Verona De Tessant: I do. Chechnyan orphans. I do. I do.

After watching this scene, and then allowing for the screen couple to snuggle for a minute, I was informed that I am not allowed to watch any more movies today. It has just been that surreal of a day.

A long, long time ago, Eric and I came close to breaking up. We decided not to. Instead, we got in the car to take a long drive. About a minute into our drive, our song began to play on the radio. We had never before, and never since, heard our song on the radio - as far as we know, it was never released for radio play.

For years, I struggled with the decision of whether or not to have a child. So many reasons to fear it would be a mistake. Some very important ones to feel it may be imperative. So much waffling. I rented the movie Waitress, not really knowing what it was about. She spends the entire movie resenting her unborn baby for keeping her stuck with her husband, only to have her entire world flip over when the baby is born. Her husband is making a scene in the delivery room, but everything is muted as she holds and gazes upon her baby for the first time. That scene was hugely influential on me.

Alas, having my own biological child was not to be. There go half the reasons I was afraid to have a baby - the genetic inheritance of all my family's ills. I am still sad about this, but using a donor will allow us to have a child who will be loved, but who won't have all of my health problems.

Another movie I knew nothing about... I believe it was around the time we decided to go with Egg Donation, because I remember going to the movie store and needing something completely mindless to watch to get my mind off of my worries. Couples Therapy sounded like complete fluff. Until 10 minutes into the movie you discover that one of the couples wants them all to go on this retreat because infertility problems is making them consider divorce.

About 3 months ago I had a personal crisis. My illnesses conspired to make me miss multiple doctor appointments in one week. Appointments I was desperate to have. Because seeing doctors was the only way I was going to get well. I felt trapped and alone. Then something occurred to me: shouldn't there be other people out there who are so sick that they have problems just getting to see their doctors? Online searching led me to whole communities for people with chronic illnesses. People who were spending their lives like me: more sick than well, too familiar with the medical system and disgruntled with it, afraid and tired and lonely.

I discovered The Spoon Theory, an easy way to explain to my family and friends how little energy I had when I woke up each day was so easily taken up by the mundane chores of everyday life, leaving me with no energy for work or socializing or just having a normal life.

I discovered a therapy group in Edmonds. I had wonderful sessions with people going through things so similar to my own experience. I spent hours talking with one person in particular, with whom I shared so many similarities it was spooky. Through her, she gave me the words to express something I had been feeling inside about my life.

A change had been coming over me. I realized I didn't like myself, the person that I had allowed myself to become. I was taking stock of my life, trying to find ways to feel and do good. Nature helped me feel my humanity again. Being made small when taking in the massive scale of mountains and forests in real life, Alaskan valleys on television, made me feel part of something larger. This woman introduced me to the Unitarian Universalist concept of valuing all beings and things equally. In my heart, I had finally defined the core of my belief system: to cherish all life, in all forms everywhere.

Changing your life when you're set in your ways can be difficult. When your own body seems to be in revolt against you, the task appears Herculean. Daunting doesn't begin to describe it.

Focusing on Wellness and increasing my health and fitness has become the focus of my life as I prepare to become a mother very, very soon(!). A handful of appointments were scheduled for this week, and so far I managed to get to all of them. This is a very good thing, but it has done a number on me.

The X-rays from my chiropractor really threw me. I knew it was bad. Just not how bad. Disks degenerating in various places, some small bits of arthritis here and there, my neck curvature is reversed and responsible for may growing hump, my neck is also almost completely right-of-center to varying degrees, one hip is lower than the other, and I have adult onset scoliosis: with not 1 but 2 curves to my spine. The image of my spine looks like someone shoved it all the way to the left as it passes through my hips, then it corrects itself and keeps going in the opposite direction for a spell before correcting again to come towards the center. Before hitting my neck where it slides to the right like the leaning tower of Pisa. Should I be scared because there's so much wrong? Or should I be relieved that finally, there may be a single diagnosis for all of the neurological problems I've been accumulating in the past 2 years?

I have been officially diagnosed with "mild to moderate hearing loss" in both ears. A new sound overlay to my tinnitus may or may not be permanent. The hearing loss, associated with my inner ear, is permanent. But the Ear Nose Throat (ENT) doctor I saw today happened to notice the fertility meds listed in my chart. She told me that she had been an Egg Donor Coordinator for Virginia Mason 10 years ago. We chatted about where I was in the process, the clinic I was using. She confirmed that success rates with donated eggs are higher than that of artificial insemination of your own eggs simply because of the youth of the women donating. She told me about how she runs into people all over the place that she helped 10 years ago, how they point out their kid running on the soccer field with her kids, and she can see the amazing results of her work. She is so thrilled and excited and happy for me. She told me to be positive, that positive results were likely. She was practically giddy.

I decided to do something Christmas shopping after my appointment, but the anxiety and physical discomfort brought on by the chiropractor visit the day before had me exhausted. I decided to see what movies were playing. The new Jake Gyllenhall movie in 5 minutes.

How can a movie called Love and Other Drugs have commercials completely devoid of the information that he is a drug company rep who falls for a woman with Parkinson's disease? The scene where she goes to the Unconvention and listens to her fellow Parkinson's compatriots tell their sickness and their doctors and their shoelaces to fuck off... I was bawling almost uncontrollably for the rest of the movie. When she's saying to her boyfriend, "There are other people with Parkinson's disease! Can you imagine?!" I thought I was going to just lose it. She sounded exactly the way I felt when I discovered the support communities for people with chronic illness and pain.

After the movie, I hid in a bathroom stall and called Eric, sobbing anew. I told him the movie was about me. He told me to come home. I went to clean my face. I had been crying so hard that I my face was covered in red blotches - I looked hideous. A woman walked in behind me, and asked if I was ok. I told her yes, I would be, and turned towards her to assure her with a small smile that I was telling the truth. She said "No, you're not. Let me give you a hug." And she did. I clung to her and sobbed against her leather jacket for about 5 minutes. She did most of the talking. She asked me simple questions, and as I talked and broke down again after each answer, she would just hold me tighter and tell me reassuring things.

We exchanged names and full spellings, each of us having unusual names. She told me my name was as beautiful as I was. She must have told me I was beautiful over a dozen times. She told me that she had been recovering from cancer for 2 years, and I lost it all over again. She told me how she and her husband went broke and lost everything and she didn't think she could bear it any longer, so she got down on her knees and prayed. And God took her troubles and got her through it. She told me that there are the people we love and need in our lives, and then there are the interim people, who are there to hug you in the movie theater bathroom. And when my troubles were too much, I should kneel down in front of Him and give them to Him. She had a little gold cross around her neck. She had pretty blonde hair and beautiful eyes. I never figured out what color her eyes were, because whenever I looked at her, she smiled with her whole face, her eyes crinkling up in the most amazing way so I was always looking at those crinkles and her smile. She prayed for me, out loud, while she hugged me. I told her she had no idea how important this moment was to me.

For the entire encounter, I kept telling myself she was an angel. That this was a miracle. That this was Something with a capital "S". That she was sent or meant to be there. I was half convinced that when we were through, she would pop out of existence. Instead, she told me she really was there to use the toilet and proved herself human. I decided not to mar this perfect moment, and silently walked out, since we had already said our goodbyes.

I went home and cried against Eric's not-so-fancy black shirt, telling him the whole thing. How strange it was. How unsettling it was, to feel like time and again, something or someone was looking out for me. He assured me he didn't think I was crazy.

The right people at the right times. New concepts and personal revelations as I'm finally ready to hear them. Songs, movies.

My contact at the fertility clinic called to update me on our chosen donor, who had just had her first baseline exam and passed with normal hormone levels and lots of healthy follicles in both ovaries. As compared with two months ago when we chose a donor, got health information that made us doubt our choice, and then discovered she was pregnant with her own child within hours of sending the email that we were going to have to choose a different donor. Because she was not the right choice.

I sat down to have some lunch and watch some television, to calm my nerves. This movie I wasn't so sure I wanted to watch was just starting, Away We Go. A couple six months pregnant go on a long trip from city to city to decide where they want to live when they have their baby. And near the end, after all the emotional ups and downs, they say these sweet vows to each other that I quoted above. Instead of vows of marriage, they are vows of parenting.

I grabbed Eric, and rewound the scene so he could watch it. After it was over, I hit stop and looked at him with tears in my eyes. He smiled at me and told me I couldn't watch any more movies today. He held me for awhile.

I first experienced crying out of happiness in 1999, when anti-depressants completely changed my life. Over the years, I've had occasion to repeat the experience. Nothing like today.

I had been crying out of complete disbelief that these things, this movie and this woman in a bathroom, were proving to me that I was going to get through this and I was going to live my life and I was going to be great. I was crying out of joy.

The blog Single Dad Laughing had a post so thought provoking, it took me days to formulate a proper response. And once I had it, there was no way it was all going to fit in a comment box. Here's to hoping Dan comes over to read what I had to say, because I think he's started a truly fascinating conversation.

Women are ugly.
Women are fat.
Women are bad mothers. Women are bad wives. Women are bad daughters.
Women are lousy cooks. Women don't keep their houses clean enough.
Women have too much cellulite in their thighs. Their abdomens are too flabby. Their under-arms are too Jell-oesque.
Women are terrible singers. They are terrible dancers. They are terrible public speakers.
Women are stupid. Women are scatter-brained.
Women are weak. They are powerless. They are defenseless.
Women don't dress well enough. They don't have clear enough complexions. They have too many freckles.
Women don't have full enough lips. They don't have skin that is soft enough.
Women are too dominant. Women are too passive.
Women are too mean. Women are too nice. Women are nothing but doormats.
Women aren't good enough. Women will never be good enough.
Women are, simply put, worthless.

Yes, they are all these things. If, that is, I am to believe the very words that are constantly being spoken by women themselves (which I don't). These are their words. And I've heard them declared again. And again. And again. To me, to other men, to other women, and for all I know to their pets and their plants.

Worthless. What a concept. To hold no value. To be less desirable than a can of dirt. Are you freaking kidding me? Every single statement on this list, including the worthless comment, was a declaration that at least one woman has made to me, for whatever reason. I bet there isn't a statement above that we all haven't heard at least once; most likely hundreds or thousands of times. Why would any of these horrible, degrading beliefs spill across the lips of any woman?

What hurts me the most is that most of these things have been said to me by more women than I would care to count.

Get real for a moment, ladies. How many of these statements have you yourself said or thought? Be honest. Go through the list, one by one, and admit to the number. I'm genuinely curious. I'm genuinely sick about it. How many of them have you said or thought just since you got out of bed this morning?

I did. And I was startled.

I am ugly. I am fat. I will be a bad mother. I am a bad wife. I am a bad daughter.

Why on earth is it ok for me to say things like this about myself, but if someone said it to me, or about another woman, I would be livid? I recently blogged about my negativity, and how in the past I've simply felt that I am honest with myself. But seriously. Saying all of that? Again and again? Believing it? Shit, what am I doing to myself?

My new therapy group has very quickly shown me just how powerful my mind can be, but the Law of Attraction theory has been just a little too much for me to swallow. Wishing I had a pony doesn't instantly make one pop into existence, and not calling myself fat isn't going to make me stop thinking I'm fat. However, if I really want that pony, keeping it in my mind is the best way to get myself to put things into action to get myself a pony. On the flip side, not allowing myself to call myself fat puts a little less pressure on my self-esteem, makes a little extra space for me to think positively about myself, and that is great motivation to start down the path of self-love and healthy living.

I understand the reason you constantly let slip these damaging statements. I understand the reason why you actually believe these things. I understand the real reason you feel this way. And the real reason breaks my heart. (...)

Guys... It is our fault. The blame lies with us.

Whoa! You're about to say a whole bunch of interesting things that I kind of agree with, but let's pause here before you martyr yourself. Men do not own this problem, they didn't create it, not alone. Yes, men influence women. But you don't make us. We are the sum of all of our experiences, filtered through our own thought processes.

We have destroyed the very beauty that women are.

We've replaced that beauty with a standard that is, and always will be, impossible for them to hit. We've decided what the perfect legs are. We've decided what the perfect body is. We've decided what the perfect breasts are to be shaped like. We've decided what the perfect face, skin, butt, and neck should be. And we've made no hesitations to boldly let it be known.

We declare it, and we do so with little care for the tender women standing beside us.

This is some really good insight on your part, so thank you. But the we here isn't men, it is society as a whole - including women themselves. Your concern for "tender women" is appreciated, but again you've made this a problem that men have to solve for women. Please, don't treat us kindly because you've treated us badly in the past. Treat us with respect because we deserve it as equals. Be kind because that's how you should always act towards everyone.

Now, you may be naively sitting there thinking, I don't declare that. I tell women they are amazing. That they are beautiful. That there is nothing wrong with them.

Do you not understand? It doesn't take opening your mouth to propound these things. It doesn't take flapping your lips to make a statement. It doesn't take verbal anything to spread this vicious ideology.

All it takes is you and me, stopping and looking.(...)

And that simple, repeated act is how we constantly, and never-endingly declare to women that they are not good enough, and will never be good enough.(...)

And they remember it. They store it. They program their minds to say, "what he is looking at is obviously what men want, and I must have that or men won't want me".

Thank you. Thank you so much for realizing that thoughts and actions, however silent, make an impact. This is such a simple truth, and yet so many people just don't seem to get it. Our collective preferences and actions have shaped our culture into one that worships perfection. This is reflected back to us in media and entertainment, further reinforcing and skewing our ideals to extremes.

This reminds me of trying to explain the concept of "institutional racism", which simply put is the entrenched cultural racism that still affects us today through the policies and opinions of yesterday. The Ghost of Racism Past, so much like the Ghost of Patriarchy Past - hard to define or put a finger on it exactly, but harder still to eradicate it.

A woman can tell herself that those images are fake until the sun goes down, but at the end of the day, her self-talk will barely matter. Not when men think that they're real. Not when she knows that men want what is shamelessly being touted from those photos. Not when she knows that men think of those photos as real.

Yes, let's talk about men. Let's talk about women ogling men, about Playgirl magazine, about paper towel commercials depicting "the perfect man", about statements like "Men can go to hell" - all socially acceptable for women. Ask yourself the next time you see a movie scene where a woman grabs a random man's ass and giggle with her cohorts, "What if that had been a man grabbing a woman?" When perturbed, women "smack" men on the shoulder or punch his gut: remember Elaine always escalating her "Get Out!" shoving of men on Seinfeld?

Women are just as guilty as men of being uncouth, insensitive, and down right mean. Men are afraid to call women on it because, apparently, women have earned the privilege to be assholes to men through historic suffering at the hands of men. This is part of our culture, being reinforced by the media, as well as the actions of men and women.

We must stop stopping. We must stop looking. We must stop fooling ourselves that such fantasies exist. We must stop wanting our women to live up to impossible ideals. We must stop seeking out images of scantily clad and naked women. We must stop filling our mind with all this fiction. We must stop.(...)

My dear brothers, can we not start loving everything about our "real" women? Can we not start ogling our "real" women instead of those fictitious fantasies in the check-out line? Can we not send a message to the world that we are no longer interested in anything that is less (or more) than "real"? That we are no longer interested in setting our standard of beauty based on images that some artist found some way to create with a damn computer? Can we not declare that we're only interested in the very "real" women standing beside us and around us?

This is a lofty, noble idea. But not very realistic. Because women and men are physically attracted to each other because of physical appearance. You can convince yourself to love someone, you can convince yourself to sleep with someone you don't really desire, but you can't talk yourself into finding someone attractive. A world where "hotties" get with "plain janes" can make a woman salivate, but what about the man?

This is where I start to make the connection with Harrison Bergeron by Kurt Vonnegut. If we strive so hard to force equality, we stamp out individualism. Shall we all wear potato sacks to pretty people don't have an advantage over the not-so-much crowd? That wouldn't really do it, now would it? Golf has a handicap, and Bergeron's society has its own version: making pretty people uglier, smarter people dumber. Forcing equality isn't the way to go. Embracing each person's inherent worth, and determining that worth without physical requirements, is what's necessary.

I can't believe I am going to say what I am about to say. I can't believe I actually do want what I am about to ask. But I do. Desperately. So, I'm going to throw it out there. I think we need women to wear clothing that shows a little less instead of a little more. We need women to wear pants that are a little looser instead of a little tighter. We need women to put their boobs back inside of their shirts. I feel crazy even saying it (I'm a single guy for crying out loud), but maybe if women gave everybody a little less to compare, this whole thing would be a little easier for us all, no matter what our chromosomal make-up.

Don't get me wrong. None of this is to say that men should or can stop appreciating beauty. That would be unnatural. That would be impossible. It is not to say that women shouldn't make themselves as attractive as they can be. It is not to say that we shouldn't appreciate cleanliness and comeliness. No, it is not to say any of those things. It is only to plead with each of you. Let's bring this world back to reality. Let's make sure that the people we are attracted to are "real" people. Let's make sure that the women we stop and look at are "real" women.

And here, my friend, is where you have me truly scratching my head. On the surface, this may sound nice to you and to women: I'll stop looking if you stop tempting me. But not only is it wrong, but it won't work.

Covering women invokes the specter of the burqa and the prairie dress. When a woman wears a burqa, is she considered or treated as an equal to men? No. Do men stop wanting beautiful women? No. You suggest a woman covering up a little more, but you forget the lesson of culture skewing things to the extreme. The more women start covering up, the more they will start to be expected to cover up, expectation leads to mandates and laws. What started so innocently, if implemented, would lead to more and more parts being covered, and harsher and harsher penalties for not going with the flow.

Covering or hiding something creates taboo associations, creates both shame and the desire of the forbidden. Once something is covered, it is worth less, and worth more. A society that covers a woman doesn't treat her as an equal, but instead covets her to the point of being an object to be owned.

In the end, I have to say congratulations for gaining such insight, and bravo for writing something so honest and thought provoking. And too bad you haven't figured it all out yet. Not to worry though, no one else has beat you to the punch!