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I'm currently rewatching the 4th season of Queer as Folk and Jeez--they're so bad about the possibility of bisexuality (or lack thereof)!!!



I've watched this season many times and have though the same thing each time, but every time it shocks me again! It's episode 11 (I think) that's the worst of them--it's got 3 different storylines that all hint on bisexuality but never even mention it by name let alone acknowledge it as a very real possibility!



First, you've got Emmit who's been fucking that football player (Drew) who insists he's not a fag and is engaged to a model-looking woman. After one of their first enounters Emmit asks Drew if his fiance knows he's "the H-word" (later clarified to mean "homosexual") and Drew insists he isn't because he doesn't fit this and that stereotype and anyway he only fucks men for fun--he doesn't love them. Emmit, of course, completely ignores the possibility that Drew could actually be bisexual--that maybe he's just a plain old cheater who actually (in some sense) wants to be with his fiance instead of using her as a cover. Similarly, Drew gives no indication of whether he is or is not attracted to women, whether he does or does not love his fiance, etc.



Second, Hunter's got a friend--i.e. a friend he makes out with and is dating. He uses gender neutral pronouns, but Michael assumes the friend is a he and then happily tells Ben "Hunter has a boyfriend!" (Hello, weren't they listening two episodes ago when Hunter really wanted an autographed picture of Cameron Diaz? Shouldn't that have been the first clue.) Hunter then reveals that the boyfriend is actually a girlfriend, and Ben and Michael are shocked. Later when they're alone in bed, Michael and Ben discuss the situation. Michael says "maybe it's a phase" and "what about all those men." Ben says "gay or straight, it doesn't matter." Ah, once again, nice job rendering bisexuals invisible by simply pretending the concept doesn't even exist.





Third, Lindsay fucks the disgusting chauvinist Sam thus throwing her into a crisis ("but I'm a dyke!"). Of course, before she actually does fuck Sam, we see Melanie going down on her and clearly Lindsay isn't enjoying it. Nope, she needs good hard big dick, and so she asks Melanie to use a vibrator for penetration. Just a few problems here. First, who the fuck turns a vibrator on full speed and then inserts it into their partner!? Second, why is it supposed to be believable that penetration is such a strange thing for these two. I'm sure there are women in same-sex relationships who rarely have penetration, but I don't think having penetration is all that uncommon--it's a sex staple for every bi or lesbian woman whose sex life I know about. (And have the writers never heard of fisting or what??) Third, does anyone else just find it creepy that the writers felt the need to represent Lindsay's desire to have sex with someone who happens to be a man through her needing penetration? What the fuck? Why would the desire to have sex with someone has to come down to nothing more than desire for their particular type of genitalia? And what is this need for a penis that's supposed to be going on here?



BEGIN SIDENOTE: [I know historically people have had difficulty seeing women as capable of *really* having sex with one another (perhaps one reason why lesbianism has seemed less threatening than male homosexuality) because *real* sex involves penetration, and women just don't have the body parts for that. For instance, my sexual history involves almost no vagina-penis penetration, but lots of other types of sexual activity with men and women. The majority of the sexual activity which my girlfriend and I now partake in is stuff that I was already doing in high school under the guise of "fooling around" but not "sex." In college I started doing such things with women too, and realized that all along I had been having *real* sex. It was only after such experiences with both males and females that I first had intercourse with a male. When I told some friends about it later they reacted by saying "ah, another virgin down" and acting as if it was a big deal. It was amazing to me how somehow this one particular act was supposed to make that sexual encounter so significant in comparison to all the other ones. And especially now that I'm having sex with someone continually in the context of a relationship, it ticks me off! I wonder, "what do those friends think that my girlfriend and I do together?" And if they realized what we do, would they see it as not *real* sex? Would they still privilege that one act of penis in vagina over everything that we do? (Or maybe the use of sex toys that vaguely resemble a phallic shape would be enough like a penis to make the sex real?) So yeah, there's definitely a problem with people assuming *real* sex means penetration, hence there's is something important about women who sleep with women being open about the fact that they can have *real* sex without penetration.



BUT, at the same time, we also have to get rid of the idea that women fucking women don't want or don't have penetration. For instance, a 26 year old lesbian friend of mine told me about her last trip to the gynecologist. When asked about birth control on the form she wrote "lesbian." When she went in for the pelvic exam the doctor went over the form with her and asked if she'd ever had intercourse with a man, then offered to use the smallest speculem (for adolescents) on her--ASSuming that being a lesbian meant she was unlikely to have had many things visiting her vagina. Hmm, gynecologists really should visit the local sex shop and see the size of some of the dildos available! Not to mention, isn't it well known that fisting is not an uncommon practice in queer women's community? I know I sure never had such large things in my vagina until I started fucking a woman.] END OF SIDENOTE



Back to Lindsay. She first goes and confesses to Brian who tells her that "It's okay to like pussy and it's okay to like dick--just not at the same time. So which one do you like?" Ah, that's right Brian, deny the possibility of bisexuality without even having to mention the word!!



It's interesting that The L Word has a bisexual character (maybe more now, I stopped watching after the 1st season). I wonder if that's just a matter of different writers? Or a little more time past and more envelopes to push? Or is a gender issue? Is the lesbian community more accepting of bisexuality than the gay male community?



Okay, rant over.

In October my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. Around Halloween—about two hours before my friends and I were having a Halloween party—she called to tell me that she was having a mastectomy less than a week later. Strangely enough, I dressed up at the party as a lactating mother. The next week my mother had one breast removed, and had the second biopsied for the third time—the first two times they were unable to get a conclusive result. It turned out that the other breast also had a cancerous lump. Three weeks later, she had that breast removed as well. She is 49 years old—not terribly young for breast cancer, but young enough to indicate an elevated risk for future cancer and for breast cancer in her daughter (me). Her age, along with the rarity of having cancer in both breasts at the same time, is enough to make the doctors quite concerned that she has a gene mutation. If she does have that mutation, it is highly recommended that she have a full hysterectomy to protect against ovarian cancer and cancer in the small amount of breast tissue she has left. After the hysterectomy, she will not be able to take any hormones, as this might increase the risk of cancer. She is now arranging to get the test.



I’ve received mixed advice about whether I should have the genetic testing done assuming my mother’s test comes out positive. There is, say some, a considerable danger in having the test with regard to insurance if it comes out positive. But others seem to think that this is a small risk, one worth taking given that there are specific precautions to be taken if the test is positive.



At my recent gynecologist appointment I received the latter kind of advice. She suggested that IF my mother’s test comes out positive I should be tested. And IF I am also positive, then I should go on birth control pills. This would, of course, be an inconvenience and since it increases other risks, it would worry me slightly. The kicker, though, is that she also recommended “removal of the ovaries once you’re done with childbearing.” I was not expecting that. All I could think was: “But I’m not really planning to bear children. Thus, aren’t I already technically done with childbearing. Thus, what you’re really saying is that you want my ovaries NOW!” Actually I’m sure that’s not what she meant. I’m sure whether or not I’m actually going to have children it is advisable to keep my ovaries at age 23—at least, I hope so. But still, thinking that I get to keep my ovaries til age 35 or 40 isn’t all that comforting. 35 or 40 is starting to look a lot closer than it used to look. That’s only 12-17 years left with reproductive organs intact. But, then, on the other hand, thinking about giving up my breasts by age 50 doesn't sound very good either.



For now, I wait for test results.

I’ve been in a non-monogamous relationship for the past 8-10.5 months, depending upon how one counts. She’s had past non-monogamous relationships; I haven’t had past relationships of any kind. The relationship is non-monogamous in the sense that we are allowed to have sex with other people and perhaps even date them. That is, we haven’t made any promises otherwise, and we’ve had numerous conversations affirming our desire to not to have any such promises. But in terms of our behavior, we haven’t been taking advantage of these allowances. I’m not exactly sure why. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that neither of us were exactly rolling in the sex before we got together. In fact, I spent the early evening the first night we had sex complaining to friends that I was almost reaching the one year mark as for how long it had been since I’d last had sex. Good timing.



A little while ago I was in a professional setting in which there was reference to monogamy and then an implicit assumption made amongst those in authority in the group that monogamy is desired by all. No one was pointing out that this assumption is just plain wrong, so, of course, I felt the need to point this out. But I also felt like in pointing it out, I would be implying that I am one of those people who does not find monogamy desirable. I did say something, but I felt myself grow hot and uncomfortable as I did. Why should I have to say something? Why should I have to out myself because others make obviously faulty generalizations that likely mask value judgments about what type of relationships are appropriate? Better question—why do I care if I out myself? What do I care what any of these people think?

An editorial in the NYTimes yesterday tries to point out that people who believe in the possibility of gays becoming “ex-gays” haven’t really thought things through. After all, such folks would never want their daughter to marry an “ex-gay”—why? Presumably because they don’t really believe, deep down, that one can ever stop being gay. (Actually there are probably lots of other reasons they wouldn’t want their daughter to marry an “ex-gay”—they might just find it unsavory to imagine their little girl having a dick inside her that has also been in some guy’s ass, or they might just be suspicious that any particular “ex-gay” their daughter might be with may fall off the wagon sometime.)



Of course, I do think Savage is likely on to something—I do wonder if anyone can sincerely believe that each and every person who identifies as gay can become straight if only they do enough praying and have enough counseling. But I also have a lot of reservations about warning the public to keep their daughters safe from gays who might deceive them and break their hearts.



First of all, when you’ve got a group of people that are generally found unsavory, if not hated, it doesn’t seem like characterizing them as potential liars and life-ruiners is the best thing to do. More seriously, though, my first thought when reading the editorial was—what about the bisexuals? Conservative Christians, of course, wouldn’t want their daughters to marry bisexuals anyway, but let’s face it—Savage isn’t really trying to reach that demographic; he’s trying to show the mainstream moderates just how crazy conservative Christians are. He’s saying: “Hey average middle-class American moderate who thinks gayness is biological and so it’s not changeable, but it’s still kind of icky to think about, ‘not that there’s anything wrong with it’…etc….Those fundamentalists are trying to make gay men play straight. You might think this is your problem—but it is. All these gay men who are playing straight, will, of course be looking for wives, and your poor daughter may just be taken in by their farce and end up with her heart broken once the truth comes out.” “What’s any of this got to do with bisexuals?” you might wonder. Savage doesn’t even mention them! Well it’s true, he doesn’t mention bisexuals. I fear, though, that in the minds of most average moderate middle-class American, bisexuals just get lumped on in with gay men and lesbians. I suspect Joe and Jane Doe are probably already suspicious of bisexuals—stereotypes and narrow-mindedness, after all, abound not only amongst straight people but within gay and lesbian communities as well. If Mom and Dad get convinced that gayness is so absolute—so black and white—that Suzy shaking up with a gay man is guaranteed to bring on tragedy, what will they think when Suzy brings home a bisexual man? If gayness is absolute, black and white, biologically determined, what’s bisexuality? For many people, the answer is “non-existent.” So in Mom and Dad’s head—Suzy’s boyfriend is just confused—he’s either gay or straight. If he’s straight, then maybe he’s gone through a phase earlier in life. If he’s gay, then they need to talk some sense into their daughter before her heart gets broken. If the relationship between this gay man and Suzy ends up to be a good long-lasting one that will just seem like evidence that he was really straight after all.



Of course, someone thinking clearly could both agree with what Savage is saying— that people concerned for their daughter’s happiness should advise her NOT to marry an “ex-gay” man (at least not under average marriage circumstances)—AND also reject all the stereotypes about bisexuality and embrace their daughter’s marrying a bisexual man. One could, for instance, think that bisexuality is just as biologically determined, and hence unchangeable, as homosexuality. Or, they could have an even more sophisticated view that rejects such simple biological determinism and sees sexuality as an identity influenced by many factors—an identity which can be both fluid and stable. I just doubt that the average reader of the article would make such fine distinctions.



Savage’s strategy—and indeed the strategy of the mainstream gay and lesbian movement—seems to be a kind of “We’re born this way, thus we can’t be any other way.” strategy. And indeed, given the historical and social circumstances of the movement this seems like a perfectly natural strategy. It’s one though that has plenty of familiar problems, but on the other hand it also seems to be one that has been somewhat effective. After all, in some ways at least, wouldn’t we be better off if all conservative Christians accepted that gayness was completely biological? There would be much less ability to condemn for having made a bad choice. So I’m not saying this strategy should be abandoned. But on the other hand, to the extent that this is a falsehood/over-simplification, it seems it has to be a short-term strategy. The question is: “What do we do once everyone’s on board with thinking people are gay as a matter of biology?” Do we then put out a different message, trying to introduce nuance? And how much damage will we have done in the mean time by emphasizing the stability of sexual identity over the fluidity of such identities?

I spent last semester TA-ing for an introductory philosophy course, and after a winter break that was way too short, I'm gearing up to do it again. Although I once "taught" a GRE course (corporations like Kaplan don't actually allow you to "teach"), this was my first experience in University teaching/philosophy teaching.



So what did I find?



Well, I found the expected naive moral relativism that I expected--though thankfully not to the degree I had anticipated. Some students, for instance, attempted to the bypass the question of whether we have free will and, if not, whether we can be morally reponsible for anything, by claiming that moral responsibility is simply a matter of what one's culture thinks/says, and hence the existence of free will is irrelevant.



A suprising number of students also seemed to be untroubled by the hard determinist idea that we have no free will (and, as we presented the issues to them, that we hence have no moral responsibility either).



There appeared to be suprisingly few Ayn Rand enthusiasm.



But most surprising of all, was what happened in one of our discussions of the existence of a divine being. I had worried that there might be students who have faith in such a being who would either be put off by the material or who would refuse to engage seriously with it (since of all the philosophical controversies we covered, this one was the only one where the evidence clearly seemed to lean in one direction--against the existence of god). I was also concerned that students who believe in god might leave the course thinking that "those liberal atheistic philosophers have attacked my religion and tried to take away my most sacred beliefs!" Indeed, many philosophers do approach teaching about god as an opportunity to produce more atheists, or at least show believers how lacking in evidence their beliefs are. I tried not to take this approach. Instead, I tried to make clear at the beginning, that the process of philosophy is about premises and conclusions--about producing reasons we all can share given the commitments we already have (i.e. commitments to logic and the plausibility of certain claims about the world). But faith, I claimed, is not the kind of reason that we all can share given those commitments. Faith can't be a reason for me to belief unless I already have it (in which case I wouldn't need a reason). Essentially, I tried to make clear that their personal beliefs about the existence of a divine being were not, strictly speaking, relevant to what was happening in the course; but the kinds of arguments they put forth in class or on papers were relevant, and hence this is what would count. [In other words, they were free to believe whatever they wanted for whatever reason they wanted (or for no reason at all), so long as when they wrote a paper they did not argue baselessly for those beliefs.]



I did worry about this approach though. I worried that I was, in effect, undermining the power of arguments and logic. Was I saying that they should feel free to simply disregard the conclusions of all the arguments on all the topics we covered? Was I implying that they ought to say, "Fuck modus ponens, fuck soundness, fuck validity"? I hope that's not what they heard, but I can't be sure.



In any case, perhaps my worrying about students who believe in a divine being was unwarranted. Or perhaps my approach was successful, and hence there were no issues. In any case, there was a difficulty, and it arose while discussing the connection between god and morality. The students were presented in lecture with the Divine Command Theory (what's morally right/wrong/permissible is what god commands/prohibits/allows) and then the famous Euthyphro Problem. [The problem is that the divine command theorist must mean either a) that god commands what s/he does because it's right, or b) that what's right is right because god commands it. If (a) then morality is independent of god, because something was right before god did any commanding at all; god's just a messenger. And if (b), then what god commands is totally arbitrary; god could command "rape every red headed person you can on sundays" and if s/he did, then it would be morally required that we do so.



Some of the students I knew to believe in a divine being seemed interested and even impressed by this problem. The difficulty I faced was with a student who made it clear that she did not believe in god. After class, she said she had some questions. But instead of questions, what she mostly had was a rant about her hatred of the class and philosophy. She especially objected to our spending time discussing the divine command theory and the euthyphro problem--why, she wanted to know, would we even bother spending time on such an absurd idea as that god exists. Why, she asked, were we allowing for the sake of argument with the divine command theorist that god might exist?



She went on, "People who believe in god are weak. Don't they know that humans created god?" I was somewhat taken by surprise. I tried to explain that, no, in fact most people do not believe that "humans created god." It told her that many of her classmates believe in god, and while the divine command theory is almost universally rejected amongst philosophers, it tends to be readily accepted by the general public, and thus, presumably, by undergraduates.



She looked unconvinced, so I went on. I tried to point out that if one is trying to convince someone not to believe the divine command theory, one could take her approach and say "to believe DCT you must believe god exists, and people who believe go exists are weak." But, I said, one surely will not convince anyone with this type of attack, and in fact believers will probably just walk away thinking, "she's mean."



Her response, in a disdainful voice: "Oh, so the point of philosophy is to make people feel good? We're suppose to pretend people's views aren't stupid to avoid hurting their feelings?"



Again, I was taken aback by this. "Who is this person, and what is her problem?" I thought. The more I attempted to explain, the more frustrating I found it to talk to her. She generally cut me off about three words before the end of each of my sentences. And after another minute or so, she stated--while I was mid-sentence--"nevermind, I have other questions" at which point she went on to ask me to explain simple distinctions between foundationalism and coherentism which she appeared to fail to be aware of because she had missed so many classes. This also included a few more times during which I had to explain "this is how we do philosophy" when she continually asked why any one would care about this or that issue.



On the next set of papers which came in a few days later, she had, of course, picked the essay topic on DCT (probably because she'd missed the classes in which we'd discussed all of the other topics). And just as in her conversation with me, she refused to engage the DCT in anyway. She stated "I will not grant for the sake of argument or for any other reason that god exists." Thus she never explained what the DCT theory is or what the euthyphro problem is, or any responses to the euthyphro problem.



Her paper was not bad, but it was not philosophy. It seemed, instead, like an exercise in rhetoric. She put forth grand points in authoritative language ("People believe in god because they are weak"), but did not support those claims with evidence or reasoning.



I found myself trying to get into her mindset. Why would she simply refuse to discuss any of the issues we discussed in class? Better yet, why would she write a paper she had to know would earn an unsatisfactory grade, when (as I found out shortly after) she was on academic probation?

If you've seen the moving "Kissing Jessica Stein" you likely remember the kind of neurotic, but quite adorable main character. Well I saw a version of her while doing work at a resturant today. This woman had a very similar voice and similar mannerisms. Only difference--this woman had an 18 month old child with her. Imagine Jessica Stein with a baby.



So this woman was sitting there feeding the kid, and then another woman with a baby about the same age came in. She brought her baby close to the table of the Jessica Stein woman and said to her baby, "Look, another baby. Say 'hi.'" Jessica Stein woman said something similar to her toddler too. Then the two mothers exchanged what must be like the official strange mother to strange mother, meeting in public places, have no real reason to speak to one another, exchange. The standing mother mentioned her child's name and date of birth; Jessica Stein quickly replied in turn.



It was at this moment when I started to wonder if these women at this moment had somehow opted out of "real people world" and entered "mother land." In "mother land" everyone has the date of their child's birth memorized and ready at the tip of their tongue. They know the exact number of months for which the world has been graced with their child's post-womb presence. They think that for some reason that their kid should say hi to every human being who is within a few months of their kid's age.



During this scene, I also had some thoughts on being a mother myself. I think I would probably like to have children some day (that is, far, far into the future). Or maybe I should revise that. I would like to raise children. I would not, under any circumstances, like to "have" children in the sense of letting one grow in my uterus or pass through my vagina (nor be cut out of my stomach). It's not as if I have a burning desire or anything to raise children. I just suspect it's something I'll likely want to do in the future. I worry sometimes, though, that a large draw to the children thing is so that I can raise them unconventionally. Of course, if I were a mother I likely wouldn't have time for any of those political ideals anyway. But I do fear I might make my kids an experiement, kind of like the Bem's (see An Unconventional Family).



So I highly doubt I would be a Jessica Stein kind of mother. I think if anything I'd be much more like Helen. Helen as a mother might actually still reside in "real people world."

Just for the record.



It is 5:49 now where I live, and 90 degrees out; with humidity and lack of wind factored in, however, it feels like it is 93 out. It has been similarly hot for days now.



For some perspective:



I live at about 42 degrees latitude in the middle of the United States. Miami is at about 25 degrees latitude. Montreal, Canada is about 45 degrees. I think, then, that such a hot week so early in the summer (actually, techinically before the official season of summer has begun) qualifies as a heat wave. And, thus, I should get to bitch about it.



For more perspective:



It is currently:



71 (and feels like 71) where the Dirty 'R' Word lives at 33.6 latitude

81 (and feels like 84) where O lives (okay, she's getting a heat wave too)at latitude 42

84 (and feels like 90) where my family lives at 40 latitude (okay, heat wave is hitting them as well)

81 (and feels like 86) in Disney World

63 (and feels like 63) in Seattle

52 (and feels like 52) in city roomie and I will be vacationing in next week at latitude 40