Monday, September 5, 2011

Actually, Not Dead

Heads up to my readers: I'm not dead or stopping posting, NOR do I feel the need to "take a break" which is the sure death-knell of any one-person blog.

Simply put, I've been working far too much and through far too many weekends and holidays. My first priority is my wife, my second is my career, my third is my leisure time, my fourth is my health and my fifth is my continued education about the world and its workings.

This blog falls under the fifth priority. I have a handful of posts tumbling around in my head that I can't wait to write out - as soon work stops being so demanding, I'll get them out there. In the meantime, here's a picture of a beautiful vehicle:
http://the-ic.deviantart.com/art/Mazda-RX9-2012-Concept-WIP5-171278550

Friday, August 12, 2011

When the Baby Should Be Thrown Out with the Bathwater



Mary Daly was one messed up lady. I've never read her books, but I've read interviews and other writings she's done. I have a hard time following her - she's a bit too Postmodern for me - and I can't follow her points because of the flowery prose she writes with.

Mary Daly was also trans-phobic and misandrist, although, without a doubt, she would say that misandry is impossible because men are the ruling class.

Realistically speaking, Mary Daly was, in my opinion one of the few, true, unarguably misandrist Feminist leaders the movement has had. I'm aware many MRAs will point to countless others they believe to be misandrist, and that's fine. They might be right.

But Mary Daly's misandry is beyond doubt. This quote makes my point:
"If life is to survive on this planet, there must be a decontamination of the Earth. I think this will be accompanied by an evolutionary process that will result in a drastic reduction of the population of males."
I don't appreciate it when people say she was calling for genocide here - notice she was saying that evolutionary process would be responsible, not human intervention.

But still - her belief was that men - by definition of having penises - were going to bring about the end of humanity. Men are unredeemable - there is no salvation for them.

She might as well have said "Men are intrinsically evil - they can never do good for humanity."

Now, to test if a statement is misandrist, all we have to do is plug in some other language ... so let's give it a shot:
"If life is to survive on this planet, there must be a decontamination of the Earth. I think this will be accompanied by an evolutionary process that will result in a drastic reduction of the population of white people."

Yup - that's hate language. Mary Daly hated men - no further discussion necessary.

Back to the point of this post, now.

The question has arisen - can we salvage any of Daly's work when she held these terrible views?

That question was posed just yesterday at Feminist Critics. Danny said:
If its unfair to dismiss Daly and all her work because of her misandry (which BTW most feminist sites acted like they didn’t want to acknowledge) and declare that she is not a feminist then how is it then fair for feminists to point to Spearhead and the selective writings of manboobz as supposed evidence that the entire men’s rights movement is nothing but a vehicle of hatred that hopes to keep women oppressed so men can have the right to beat and rape their wives at will?
Ah, the "baby and bathwater" dilemma.

Let's run an experiment, shall we? Let's remove gender issues and feminism from the mix - because we're all a bit prejudiced here on that issue.

Let's say you're having trouble in your garden behind your house. Your tomato plants aren't growing tomatoes, your pear tree is an ugly yellow color, your grass is spotty and gray and your roses smell like tuna fish.

You call up two gardening consultants to help you fix your lawn.

The first consultant, Gary, spends 30 minutes examining your back yard and gives you some recommendations about watering, trimming and fertilizing your garden, lawn and bushes. He explains a little about the soil composition in the area and the amount of light your back yard receives and how that affects your plants. As you pay him for his time, and walk back towards his truck, he engages you in polite small talk and mentions how none of his advice will matter because the world is coming to an end in a week, and he knows this because aliens are projecting their plans into his head when he sleeps at night. You nod, thank Gary for his time, and say goodbye.



Later that same day, the second consultant you hired stops by. Roger spends 30 minutes examining your back yard and gives you some recommendations that are a little bit different than what Gary advised. As you pay him and walk him back to his van, he explains to you that he knows how to take care of plants because they can speak to him. He says that the plants are planning a secret revolution and will soon be our rulers. He said that your garden is doing so poorly because the plants are angry with you because you drive an SUV and don't recycle your plastic bags. He advises you to trade in your car and start using reusable grocery bags if you want your plants to forgive you and your garden to flourish. You nod, thank Roger for his time, and say goodbye.

You go into your house, close, lock and dead-bolt the door, and now must choose whose advice to follow.

Both gardening consultants are, to be kind, operating with some very faulty conceptions regarding how the world works. Less kind folks would call them crazy.

But ultimately, you can only follow one of the consultants advice. I suspect most of you would follow Gary's advice. Gary held some wrong views, but they were not related to his area of expertise.

Roger's views were intrinsic to his gardening advice - and even if he had some good advice for you in general (reusable bags and trading in your SUV) his purposes behind that advice is indelibly linked to his perverted perception of reality.

Now, what does this mean about his advice? I believe that, in the same way that a broken clock is right twice, the fact that Roger may have given you some good advice - you can not rely on him because of this taint. If you want to find GOOD reasons to take his advice, you can (such as saving money and reducing waste by switching bags and cars) but you can't use "Because Roger Said So" when trying to convince others.

Therefore, I claim that any and all works by Mary Daly (relating to gender issues) may not be used due to her unrepentant misandry.

If she has some cookbooks somewhere that I don't know about - feel free to read and quote from them.

But you don't take investment advice from a communist.
You don't take legal advice from a guy in jail.
You don't take dieting advice from fat people.

Don't expect to improve gender issues while quoting and reading Mary Daly.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Seeking Validity: Romance

This is a true story from my youth. I've done my best to recall the details of the day to the best of my ability - but it was an important day for me - so I remember it well.

Tara, Ron and I were sitting at the large, circular unused teacher's table during lunch of my senior year. We were all in Drama class together - and we were lumped into the same lunch block because of it. Incidentally, this was the only year in high school where I didn't share lunch with my two best childhood friends. Tara and Ron were new friends to me - because we spent so much time together during rehearsals after school - we made a pretty strong bond relatively quickly.

Being born in New York and transplanted to the rural south at a young age can be traumatizing. I don't expect anyone to quite understand that unique pain that comes from being a Yankee in Billy Bob's Court. Especially when you're a child.

So, growing up - I never had girlfriends. Not even the lame kind where you never talk and just wave in the hallway. It wasn't until I was 14 that I actively started to want a girlfriend - and when a year had passed, and I was 15 still with no girlfriend - I started to get frustrated. Luckily - I got through being 15 by convincing myself that I needed to have a driver's license and a car to have a girlfriend.

That bought me some time - or so I thought. The reality was that when I did finally end up having a drivers license, awesome parents who would let me drive where and when I wanted (within reason), and a completely awesome car:

Oh man, do I miss that thing.

Wait ... no I don't.



Where was I?

So when I finally turned 16 and had a car, money to spend and permission to take girls out on dates - my singleness became almost unbearable. Luckily, I had a new female friend, Tara, who I could vent on.

Tara was a tall, shapely blonde and our salutatorian. She was extremely intelligent if slightly condescending. Bad acne and a poor family (little make-up and ill-fitting, out of date clothes handed down from her older sisters) meant that she didn't get much attention from the boys in our school.

Ron was new to the school - he'd transferred in after some trouble (bullying?) at another school district. He was very, very poor but extremely good looking. That said, he had self-confidence issues and wasn't very smooth.

Tara, Ron and I made a close, if odd group of friends that year. I regularly vented to both Tara and Ron about my inability to find a girlfriend. Ron was no help at all. He kept offering pickup lines. Tara wasn't much help either - but one day she got sick of my complaining and decided to lead me to water and shove my head into the trough.

"So exactly how many girls have you asked out?" she said.

"Well, I asked Amanda after rehearsal a few weeks ago, I asked Leslie out last month," I offered.

"Right, but those were your friends before you asked them. You can't do that. You need to find a girl you think is cute, and just ask her."

I scoffed. "Right! That would not end well. She'd probably laugh in my face - there's no way that would work."

She crossed her arms and sat back in her chair. "You've never tried it. You don't know that."

"Fine! I'll do it right now - just to prove you wrong!" I spun around in my seat and decided to find the most attractive girl I could at the table behind us. Of course, I wanted to be right more than I actually wanted a date with a girl at this moment, so I picked the absolute hottest girl at the table behind me. Kirsten Sweetwater (yes, that was almost exactly her name - although I didn't know it at the time.)

She had long, natural blonde hair - cute freckles and a beautiful smile. She was athletic and wore nice clothes. I chuckled to myself - I was sure to crash and burn and prove my point.

At the last second, I hesitated. I spun back to my table - there's a certain self preservation instinct that makes it hard to face unavoidable rejection. "That would be rude."

Tara rolled her eyes - "It won't be rude, it will be a compliment. Trust me."

Ron spoke up - "Look, dude, I'll do it, it's easy."

Suddenly, a fire rushed over me, from my spine, over my shoulders and down the front of my chest and through my legs. I was not going to let Ron ask her. I spun around.

I tapped on her shoulder in the noisy lunchroom. She turned around. "Hey, I've noticed you before, I wanted to know if you'd like to go out on a date with me."

The girls sitting with her made bug eyes. I braced myself. "Uhhhh ..." She turned beet-red. "I'm not sure." She started laughing.

"Ok, thanks." I turned around - that wasn't nearly as bad as I expected. I looked right at Tara. "See? What did I tell you!"

Tara gave me this face:




"Are you serious? She did not turn you down! She said she didn't know!"

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"Of course it's not the same thing! Did you see her face? She was smiling like an idiot and turned bright red! She was clearly interested!"

"Really?" I said.

Tara and Ron chimed in unison, "Yes!"

I turned around again, and tapped the girl on the shoulder. She was still red. Her friends stopped talking.

"So you said 'I don't know.' What does that mean exactly?"

"Well I'd have to ask my parents first."

"So ... you mean would go out with me on a date if your parents said you could?"

"Oh, yeah! Of course."

"Great!" I said, and turned around. Lunch was almost over. Tara was the embodiment of I-told-you-so. Ron gave me an approving smile. I fought an epic war internally to contain my excitement.

Kirsten came by after she took up her tray and handed me a note with her name and home phone number and walked away saying "Call me tonight, OK?"

Long story short, her parents said no to a proper "date" but they did invite me over for dinner (I got along really well with her father) and allowed us to spend the day at a local fair - and sit together and watch fireworks that night. It didn't matter - at that point in my life I wasn't terribly concerned with a first kiss or more - I was 16 and desperately seeking romantic validation - and I got it by randomly approaching a cute girl and asking her out.


Monday, August 8, 2011

Blame the Victim?

This local story has me a bit befuddled.


Is it ok, in this situation, to say "Well they shouldn't have been running from the loss prevention officer. If they hadn't shoplifted - they wouldn't be dead right now ... etc.?"


Friday, August 5, 2011

Maybe I'm Being Oversensitive

But this internet meme rubs me the wrong way:

I resent the idea that a girlfriend is "best" when she watches you play video games.

FUCK THAT - PLAY WITH ME!

Who wants a woman to shout "Kill him!" when she could be saying "Let's kill him!"

Thursday, August 4, 2011

A Blue Shirt Confession

A good deal of conversation has been going on regarding men feeling sexy, men feeling sexually harassed and men's sexuality.

I wasn't quite sure how to respond.


I completely realize - and experience - the way that men's sexual value is minimalized, fetishized or parodied in mainstream, heterosexual media.

The idea that women could be sexually attracted to men is taboo. They can be attracted to his wealth, his power, prestige, fame or talent - but his body? Hah! C'mon now ... we're being SERIOUS.

Now of course GAY men find men attractive - that's because they're men! Men in general find all sorts of things sexually attractive - women, other men, children, animals, high-heeled shoes ... that's cause they're perverts. No more discussion needed.

So earlier this week I wore my totally out-of-place Carribean Blue dress shirt to work.


The men in my office have a uniform. It is the blue pinstripe shirt with black or dark blue slacks. Close your eyes - think of wall-street execs minus the tie and jacket. Boom - that's my office (other than the women who wear dresses like this vvv ... but that's another post.)


But it was laundry day, so I wore that blue shirt with some black slacks. I pulled in to the parking garage behind a small Corolla. She got the space closer to the office building, I had to pull in a few spaces down from her. I grabbed my coffee and lunch and got out of my car.

As I headed towards the office building, I saw a short, mocha-skinned (Filipino?) woman about my age get out of her car and open her trunk. It was the same woman who I pulled in behind.

(Edit: I understand how important a woman's appearance is, so here's the best description I can give: She was about 30 years old, 5'1" and 100 lbs. She was wearing a tight tan skirt that came up about 4 inches above her knees, and a very light blue button-up blouse. Her hair was the same as the woman in the photo below, and she was wearing heavy-but natural make-up to cover her lightly pock-marked cheeks. She has olive-shaped eyes and full lips.)

She opened her trunk, slung her shoulderbag over her shoulder, and in one swift movement, tossed her hair back, made eye contact and gave me "the smile."

That is the smile. It's mostly in the eyes - but it's absolutely different from the "friendly smile" and the "cordial smile" and the "professional smile." [I'll be happy to talk about these later, but for now, I need to stay focused.]

So she gave me a smile that I don't get very often. She got her bag, closed her trunk and headed towards the main building. At this point I was about one pace behind her. We walked out from the parking garage toward the covered walkway that led to the office building.

A couple dozen feet from the door, she looked over her right shoulder at me - first at my chest, then up to my eyes. She was smiling.

She grabbed the door, opened it and let me go through first. I nodded at her and walked through first. I hesitated after walking through - looked behind me and watched her as she followed me through the door, and started walking next to me.

I said, "I'm not used to women holding the door and letting me go through first."

She replied, "I like your shirt. It's uplifting and festive. It makes me feel alive."

As she said "alive" she looked up at my eyes as we continued walking.

I did my best to respond quickly, "Well, I'm a philanthropist of sorts. I actually hate this shirt but I wear it to cheer up women's days."

She did the giggle. (The giggle is really hard to describe. But it's usually a sign of flirting because she's laughing at something that ISN'T actually funny - the other possibility is that she's just trying to occupy dead air time.)

We walk the rest of the way to the elevators, and she presses the UP button. I suspect she was being polite with her "giggle" so I whip out my Blackberry and look at it intently.
(Of course, my Blackberry is a piece of shit, so I was actually staring at a blank screen while it struggled to activate it's main screen, but that's not important.)

"So what do you do for AMC?" She wasn't trying to be polite. The giggle was a flirt. The blood drained from my face. I can deal with women I don't know - as long as they're not flirting with me. Attractive women flirting with me is so far out of my everyday experience that it causes a meltdown of sorts in my reasoning cortex.
(I don't actually work for AMC - I work for the equivalent of A&C ... but people often confuse the ampersand for an M ...)

The elevator arrived and I let her in first. I entered and pressed the 7 button. She stepped forward and pushed the 6 button.

I spent the rest of our solitary elevator trip up to her floor (6) telling her about my job.

The sixth floor arrived - she got off, looked over her shoulder and said "It was really nice talking with you," and swished her sexy little ass around the corner.

The doors closed.

I realized, shortly after that I had been holding my lunch box in my left hand - obscuring my ring finger. Even later, I realized that there were no offices on the sixth floor of our office building (It's very new, many floors haven't been leased yet.)

Now to the confession part: My interaction with her made me feel GOOD. I felt invigorated and confident. It's been a while since I felt that way - because no matter how much encouragement your spouse gives you, an "outside opinion" is always bolstering to your self confidence.

From here on out, that blue shirt is going to be my 'sexy' shirt, and there's not anything anyone can do about it.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Request Aggression Formula

In a thread over at Daylight Atheism, a commenter named "monkeymind" makes this statement:

"The more trust you are requesting, the more unearned the trust is, the more aggressive the request."

Of course, this thread was relating to Elevatorgate - which I've promised I would revisit.

I've become more soft towards Rebecca Watson's position in the past weeks. It isn't because I had any sudden realization, or some reasoned argument I've been given has shown me how I was wrong.

Actually, in hearing so many people try to express online why Rebecca Watson was right to say what she said and others explain why she shouldn't have said it - I realized that there was a >0% chance that I had misunderstood her original comment.

In her first video, her exact words were: “A word to the wise, guys, uh, don’t do that.”

I initially thought that Rebecca was saying "To the men who want more women to participate in Atheist conferences, uh, you all must stop propositioning women at these events."

That interpretation really rubs me the wrong way. Luckily, I don't think that's what RW meant anymore.
(Although I would not be surprised if she held this position - I think she's gone on record saying that this would be a good way to get women to participate more - but either way, that wasn't what she was getting at in this video.)

But now that more people who know her have spoken out, it seems that she was probably saying "Men - it is a bad idea to proposition women you've just met in an enclosed space - you will make them feel uncomfortable and it's socially unacceptable."

This interpretation doesn't raise my hackles nearly as much. It could be wrong (based on how likely it is for women to feel uncomfortable and its social acceptance - but I don't want to discuss that right now) - but it's not as offensive as my original interpretation - that she was basically calling for men (and only men?) to postpone their sexuality during a convention.

OK, so that's my stance regarding Elevatorgate.

But regarding monkeymind's statement - I thought it was incredibly ... succinct. It is a really insightful way to look at how we make requests of other people and how aggressive those requests are.

I feel like there should be some sort of mathematical formula for it.

For example, something like

(Objective Value X Portion of Wealth) / (Requestor Trust Level) = Request Agression

So let's say my life-long best friend in the world (RTL=10) asks to use a car (OV=3,000) but I have another car of equal value (PoW=50%) I can drive.
(3,000 X .5)/10= 150

So in that case, the Request Aggression would be a score of 150.

If we contrast that with this situation:
Let's say a person I just met in a bar (RTL=2) asks to use my car (OV=3,000) but I have another care of equal value (PoW=50%) I can drive.
(3,000 X .5)/2= 750

In that case, that person asking to use a car of mine is much higher Request Aggression score of 750.

So let's just play with this model for a bit and see if we can break it - let's see if it makes much sense.

Let's say a complete stranger (RTL=1) asks for $5 for lunch (OV=5) but I have a bank account with $2,000 in it so (PoW=0.0025%) however, because this complete stranger does not know about how much money I have in the bank, he loses the benefit of the PoW.
(5)/1= 5

So we can see that, in reality, the aggressiveness of this request is rather low at only 5 points.

Although I'm not entirely happy with the way this works out - it would make a stranger asking you for $150 as aggressive as your friend asking to borrow your second car - which seems way out of wack.
Also, there is no mechanism for the likelihood of returning something. With a complete stranger, you just can't know. Whereas my best friend would be throwing away an entire lifetime of friendship and trust if he failed to return my car after borrowing it - a stranger would have far less to lose.

Also, this method doesn't account for the reality of the situation. I really don't have a problem buying a homeless man a lunch or some food. I've actually done it before when I used to work downtown. I also don't completely despise giving them pittance in change. However, I never, ever, ever take my wallet out at someone else's request in public. I just don't do it. I don't take out my smart phone at someone else's request, either - not event to check what time it is.*

So in this way, a person with a RTL of <4 would be laden with the entire value of my bank account by whipping out my wallet in front of him. Whereas a person with a high RTL >7 would only be held to account for the actual property I gave them, not that which was made available - For example:
If a friend wants to borrow a nice set of pans so he can cook dinner for his wife, I might lend him my keys to my house to pick them up while I'm at work. Technically I'm giving him access to nearly all of my worldly possessions, but his high trust level privileges him to have ACCESS to that which is not actually granted access to. If we do some coding- maybe the formula should look like this:
(OV/PoW) [if RTL is >7, leave as is] /RTL = RA
(OV/PoW) [if RTL is <4, increase OV to level of increased access exploit] /RTL = RA

So then, we'd see that if a stranger with a trust level of 1 asked me for $5, which required me to take out my wallet (OV of wallet, including Identity Theft, is $5,000) then I could easily claim this man's RA to be much, much higher than my friend asking to borrow an extra car.

I dunno, but this was fun to think about. I'm not a math person. I'm only barely capable with simple arithmetic, and my attempts above at algebra are probably open to improvement.

But I ask, if you are going to tweak my formula, please try to do it with math that an average 13-year-old can understand, because that's my math skill level - and I'd like to try to understand what you're doing with my formula.

*The risk of me taking my wallet/smartphone out (and you now having the ability to grab it and run) is not worth your mild inconvenience of needing to make a phone call or knowing what time it is. If you are bleeding and need me to dial 911, that's another story - as your medical needs over-ride my fear of having my phone stolen from me.

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Tall or Short

FUCK YOU. If I could be taller or shorter than I am now - I'd rather be shorter. Yeah, I said it: SHORTER.

I could fit into a Ferrari or a Porsche or a Miata. A fucking MIATA.

Shorter, thank you.

Why? Because I like to drive cars. Cars are made for shorter people.

If I wanted to be a rapper, I'd want to be black.

If I wanted to be a gymnist, I'd want to be a woman.

If I wanted to do motivational speaking, I'd be handicapped.

And you know what - I want to drive cars - ALL CARS - so I want to be shorter. Fuck anyone who doubts me.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Good Relationships Are Better Than Good, They're ...


My wife has recently become employed after our move to a much larger city. We moved because my job moved - either move or become unemployed. Easy choice, huh?

So she came back today after her third day of working and her first day with her new schedule - one that means that she comes home about an hour and a half later than I do.

For the past 2 months, my wife has been dutifully fulfilling the roles that a non-working spouse should: basically everything regarding maintaining the household. And trust me, I've appreciated it.

But now that she's working, I need to pull my weight. So, before she got home, I emptied the dishwasher, loaded it full of dishes, and started cooking dinner. Because my ex-housewife (now just "wife") had so much extra time, she got into raiding in World of Warcraft. Becoming a part of a team isn't something you can just stop doing, so she had to run off to join her raid after she got home tonight.

We didn't get to do the usual bonding time that we're used to when I come home from work. Instead, she scuttled off (freshly-made-plate of Chicken Alfredo in hand) to join her raid with her guild.

After I cleaned up a bit and went to my office, the following conversation took place over Google Chat: (reposted with assumed permission)
Wife: Are you OK with me still raiding now that I'm working and might not be home til 630 or 7 some nights?
Me: Of course
I know how to find you when I need you
Wife: OK. I don't want you to feel unloved or neglected
Me: No, but I will let you know if I feel that way. Thank you for being mindful - that means a lot.
Like - A LOT.
You're an awesome wife
Wife: :D
I felt bad just running upstairs after unloading my whole day onto you
and after you'd cooked dinner and did the dishes
Me: It's ok - we have a give-and-take relationship
Wife: I give you shit
and you take it out of my ass

I am so in love with this woman.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

"Rape for Men"

This started out as a comment - but I think it's too long.

It's in response to Ozymandias post at her blog: Myth of Male Power Rant

In her post, Ozy calls Warren Farrell (the founder of modern masculism) out for drawing an analogy between some things that happen to men and the rape that women experience.
I have to say, although I don't worship Warren Farrell as some sort of masculist god, this post raises my hackles a little bit.
Also, I haven't read the entirety of "MoMP" so judge me accordingly.

Warren writes from a position that many men who were raised in progressive circles in the 1970s and 1980s can relate to - and those men, like me, often view rape as a relatively unique violation that only women can be victimized by.
(Obviously: We are quickly learning that the number of male rape victims is greater than we suspected - so our views are changing.)

But with (the false, yet thoroughly ingrained mindset that) rape, being a violation only women can experience, it is a useful analogy for men to use to examine their own violation.

Most young men who grew up in the 70s and 80s view the violent rape (date or stranger) as one of the most heinous crimes imaginable. Many would kill anyone who did that to a woman they care about. We see rape as a unique, grotesque violation of that which we love - women.

By the same token, we were still taught that we, men, could not be victims. Either we deserve what we get, or we should've been strong enough to fight off our attackers.

I think what Warren was trying to do here was to use the visceral reaction we have of rape as a unique crime against women - and attempt to draw some line of similarity between these two gender-based injuries.

Ozy, if you subscribe to the oppressive concept of women as "sex objects" and men as "success objects" then I can perhaps help you see where I'm coming from:
If a woman's worth is seen as a "sex object" then to "violate" her in only a way that she can be violated is to take/use/destroy her sexuality and sexual agency. Rape, disfigurement (acid splashes and box-cutters) and genital mutilation are some common ways of doing this - I think we all agree here.
But the flip side is what I think you are misunderstanding from Warren's point of view. If a man's worth is seen as a "success object" then to "violate" him in only a way that he can be violated is to take/use/destroy his ability to provide for his family or himself.

In this gender concept, women who use child support systems to take wealth from the man are a form of "gender identity violation." When women encourage men to "rape them" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4hNaFkbZYU&feature=player_embedded) they are asking a man to engage in behavior that could put him in jail, ruining his reputation, ending his career and destroying his ability to perform as a "success object."
Child support can be $800 a month. That's $172,000 over 18 years going towards a woman and her child who should've used a sperm donor but who decided to be deceptive.
I know men who'd rather be raped by a stranger than pay $172,000 that they may never even be able to earn.

Men and women who grow up identifying their self worth in either their sexiness or wealth have different vulnerabilities - that is the point that Warren Farrell was trying to get across.

We can either divorce our genders from these notions of sex and success - or recognize that men have a unique way of being injured that women experience through sexual violation.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

My Penis and This Post

I read this post at No, Seriously, What About Teh Menz and started writing a comment. It got too long (hehe) and decided to post my response here.

A word to my wife, first of all: I THINK I've told you all this, although maybe not in all detail. It regards my penis size and my exes. If you don't want to read about it and would rather hear it from me personally, just let me know.


I am a well-endowed man. I am, "unfortunately" for me, a grower -- not a shower, and uncut. What that means, in realistic terms, is that during my normal, everyday duties, my penis has the appearance of the average man's thumb, tucked in against itself. It is pitiful and makes no knowledge of its presence. Add to that a foreskin that completely shrouds my "penis" and it feels forgettable.

This was how I went through life, convinced that I had a small penis. A forgettable, small penis. Through high-school shower rooms, college bathrooms and invitations to skinny-dip in college.

Of course, during sex with my handful of partners during these years, I never heard them complain. I even enjoyed the odd "complaint" from my 5-foot 1-inch girlfriend who said "you're a bit to take." That was all that was said on the matter.

Fast forward to a year after graduation from college. My current girlfriend and two other women I worked with were at my basement apartment enjoying some food and drinks I had made them. The four of us were playing truth or dare (can you imagine 22+ year olds playing such a game?) and I excused myself to the bathroom.

After my business was done, I headed down the long, carpeted hallway back towards the kitchen only to hear my girlfriend say "Truth." "Laura" (The intern) asked her "How big is 's dick?"

I stopped in my tracks. I didn't want to hear the answer - my girlfriend, the woman about to answer this question, had more than 40 sexual partners before me. She was 6 years older than me. This was NOT going to be good. The best I could hope for was "He's pretty average." I froze - not wanting to hear the answer but afraid to move.

She replied: "The biggest I've ever had."

I thought to myself: "A 28 year old woman with more than 40 partners, and I'M THE BIGGEST?" But she was a brutally honest person. She never, ever lied - even when it was in her best interest. I felt I had spent too much time in the hallway and strode into the kitchen. I felt eyes on me.

I pretended to wash a dish in the sink. "Is it true?" my co-worker asked me. I feigned ignorance ... "Is WHAT TRUE? Heather, what did you say?"

Heather said, "I told them about your ... endowment," she said, with slurred speech. (Heather was very Christian like that, she'd not say the word but participate in enthusiastic adultery in the dark.)

I replied, "I have no idea - I've never been able to compare myself to other men."

With that, Heather (my girlfriend) got up off the floor with her wine glass in hand and came over to me as I leaned backwards over the sink. She put her elbow into my crotch and pointed to her wrist with her free hand. I looked up towards my two co-workers with no expectation of what to expect. There were cries of "Holy shit!" and "Can I see?"

That was the day that I learned that I was well-endowed. Because of my life as a grower-not-a-shower, I was convinced I was smaller than most men (because I never had the opportunity to be around excited men.)

Because of my time watching porn, I was convinced that I was, AT BEST, average.

I spoke to Heather after wards - I needed to know - was I THAT large?
Yes, I was.
Here I was, in my mid 20s and I just now found out I had a big 'ole penis. For Fuck's Sake - seriously?

In the days and weeks after I broke up with Heather (religion, in case you were wondering why we broke up - followed almost immediately by the infidelity of the forementioned intern from the Truth Or Dare story above) I spoke to exes on Facebook - asking, bluntly, about my penis.

The results were unanimous - I had a gigantinormous penis.

Well, isn't that special?

I even had my ex of 15 years tell me that my penis size had ruined her. She couldn't enjoy P-I-V sex with her 10+ partners since we'd dated like she could with me.

So I should be feeling pretty damn awesome about my junk right? Well I didn't. Big doesn't equal beautiful. Big is just big. Hard is just hard.

Fast forward a couple years. I was laying in bed with my (now) wife after sex. The lights were on. I was laying on my back, overheated, like I am after sex, and she was laying over towards me, her head on my chest. Her hand was holding my penis - I could feel her tossing the weight of my half-erect penis around in her hand. Her head was angled down towards it as she played with it.

"I love your penis," she said.

And for the first time in my life, I felt like my penis was beautiful. I felt like the woman who loved me, loved my penis, too. Me and my penis - both loved.
And that's a good, good thing.

For me, her, and my penis. For everyone involved.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

It's Lonely On This Side

Well, the atheist community has spoken, and I find myself on the outside looking in on my favorite bloggers. It appears, I disagree with the vast majority of mainstream atheist bloggers on the Elevatorgate issue. I also happen to agree with Richard Dawkins.

Wow, against the odds, I agree with his Lordship Richard Dawkins. I should be giddy with intellectual indignant pride.

But I'm really not.

Adam Lee, the founder of Daylight Atheism is the blogger I admire most in the world. He talks about complex issues that challenge what we know about truth, justice, morality and ethics - and no matter the position he takes - I always found myself agreeing with him. Always.
But not now.

Hemant Mahtma, founder of the Friendly Atheist has always been the voice of reason in the community. He blogs about important events in the atheist community almost instantaneously. He is always approachable. I don't agree with him on vegetarianism, but he's mostly spot on. I especially appreciate his friendly, not-in-your-face strategy when dealing with atheist Public Relations issues.
But not now.

P.Z. Meyers, the founder of Pharyngula, is a fiery, angry atheist in the most stereotypical vein of thought. I don't like P.Z. I'm going to come out and say that. There are people in the world I disagree with, but like. P.Z. is a guy I generally agree with, but dislike. I don't like his tone, I don't like his blog style - it's all too angry for me. He probably is a fine person - but as a blogger - no me gusta. That said, he's usually right about issues. He may speak arrogantly, but his point is right on, and I agree with him.
But not now.

Lastly, Jen is the founder of BlagHag, and next to Greta Christina, probably the most famous female atheist blogging right now. Jen is a sex-positive, science-loving not-straight feminist atheist blogger. In the past, she's called out feminists for it's failure to embrace science. I particularly like her because she can poke holes in evolution misinformation. And generally, she's got the movement right and we agree.
But not now.

When I find myself on the opposite side of "party lines" I usually use that as an indicator that I need to re-evaluate my position.

Surprisingly, I think I can clear up this problem, and the above bloggers probably aren't going to like what I have to say. This comes down to which you are first - a humanist or a feminist?

Borrowing from Hemant's blog, here's the rundown of the situation:

1) Female 1 is at a bar after giving a speech on sexism in the atheism community in a foreign country. She announces she is tired and goes to the elevator.

2) Unknown Male approaches Female 1 in the elevator and says: "Don't take this the wrong way, but I find you very interesting, and I would like to talk more. Would you like to come to my hotel room for coffee?'.

3) Female 1 says no and then goes to her room.

4) Female 1 makes a video in which she mentions the situation, that she felt creeped out, and tells men "not to do that."

5) Female 2 responds to the video saying that situation doesn’t sound as bad as Female 1 made it out to be and that although Female 1 has a right to feel creeped out, she has no right not to tell men not to do that.

The situation progressed a little further when Female 1 called out Female 2 while giving a speech where Female 2 was an audience member. But that is a separate matter and not something I care to address.

For most of my regular readers of this blog, the situation may not seem like a big deal. But this is a HUGE deal - both for the atheism movement and for feminism.

For what it's worth, I stand very firmly on the side of Female 2 (Stef). In some ways I can identify with Unknown Male (Elevator Guy) because it's possible that he really did find her interesting and wanted to talk to her more before she probably left his country. That said, of course I think Female 1 (Rebecca) had every right to feel creeped out. However, when she sent out a APB to other men saying "don't do that" she was taking a subjective experience that creeped her out and saying that it creeps all women out - therefore there is no good reason to do that.

Rebecca makes a serious error here - because not only does she impede Elevator Guy's freedom to engage in polite conversation - but she speaks for other women by branding his actions as something that is universally deplorable. It was this second point that I think prompted Stef to make her video.

If you're having trouble understanding Stef's point of view, how would you feel if a member of your sex made a blog post that said "Please stop complimenting us on our hair. It creeps us out - and we imagine you making little hair dolls of us."

You might say "Wait a second! I got a compliment on my hair the other day and it really lifted me up! And just because you are afraid of someone making strange hair-dolls out of your hair, doesn't mean that I get that mental image when someone compliments me. LET THE HAIR COMPLIMENTS CONTINUE!"

This is the difference between Feminists and Humanists.

Feminists want to maintain the class differentiation between men and women - and give women improved protections from men (because men are physically stronger than women) and maintain female victim status. In other words, they want to keep up the fence between men and women, put a gate in between it and only allow women to pass through to the other side. They see men's side of the fence as having the greener grass and the richer soil. It's got more sun, more shade and higher property value. They want to mosey on over to the men's side so that things are "equal." When men express interest in heading over to the women's side - the reply is simple "No, no no, that side is shitty and there's no reason for you to go there, so you just stay over here on the nice side."

Humanists want to tear down that fence and give everyone the freedom to enjoy the entirety of the human experience. Sometimes that means sticking to one side of the field - but the most important thing is the ability to pursue the act of being your own person. You should not be held back by other people for any reason, especially race, sex, ability or orientation. Genetics and fortune will already do enough to hold us back - we don't need other people to do it for us.

From a humanist perspective - the admittedly "not threatening" behavior of Elevator Guy could not have reasonably been expected to ilicit a creeped-out response in Rebecca. Therefore, he was acting reasonably in approaching, conversing and then ending the encounter after she declined his offer. These were simply two people - on of whom with power and fame (Rebecca) and one without (Elevator Guy). He made a request to spend more time with her. In a humanist world, every person, regardless of sex, class, race or orientation has the right to speak to another person in respectful manner. It doesn't matter the time or location. That is a human right.

From a feminist perspective - the subjective experience of the woman in the situation (Rebecca) is paramount. She has unique perspective on the actions of men and how they relate to the oppression of women. Her uncomfortableness is valid, and that valid uncomfortableness is the direct result of another persons behaviors: therefore that other person's behaviors are WRONG. FULL STOP.

I can be pretty cruel to feminist ideology on this blog. But the above sentence is intended to be a real, honest attempt at summarizing the feminist position here. I'm doing that because I realize that feminists aren't evil - but their ideology is based on a flawed idea of gender classicism that, if we continue to follow it, will result in more suffering than is necessary. That's why I'm a humanist before I'm a feminist - because sometimes the answer to society's problems isn't "More Feminism."

There is another angle to this - and it's how atheism deals with the lack of women active in our groups. But I'm going to save that for another post.

P.S. I, personally, would never engage in any meaningful conversation with a person I'd not met previously in an elevator. I have a few reasoned, rational reasons for this:
A) Elevators constrict our movement. Body language is important in gauging a person's mental state and emotions.
B) Possibility for conflict. You can never be sure when someone will "go off." If I mention to someone, for example, that I'm about to get my tax return, they could've just been informed that they owe millions in back taxes and could have an emotional breakdown that I will have to be party to for the remainder of the trip.
C) Possibility for extended discussion. I might hit a sweet spot with the other passenger - they may want to tell me a story longer than I have time for - I don't want them to hold me up from getting to my floor.
D) Possible false rape accusation. I'm just saying, it's possible.

Now many of these issues are "non-issues" at a convention when you know the person. That's why I don't give Rebecca any slack. In fact, at a convention, I'd be MORE likely to strike up conversation in an elevator. That said, I would not proposition a woman I had JUST met on an elevator while she was heading back to the room - because I know I would have about a 0.00001% chance of being successful. 1 - Because I'm not much to look at and 2 - because typically an intelligent woman speaking at an atheist convention wouldn't be turned on just by my looks and I'd need to develop some rapport for her to comprehend my "assets."

P.P.S. Some people - trying to get it across to white, privileged men what it feels like to be propositioned in an elevator have offered this analogy:
Suppose you were in an elevator, and a big (bigger than you) thug said to you "How about we go up to my room and I fuck you in the ass."
My honest response would be to laugh and say "No thanks, I'm sore from playing Halo." And if he continued, I'd say "You would not survive the attempt; I'll cut your balls off."
I'd rather be dead than a violent rape survivor.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Everything Means No - OR Why I'm a Post-Feminist

Why I am a Post-Feminist

People have criticized me elsewhere for describing myself as a Post-Feminist. They say things like "There are still millions of women being raped every day across the globe - how can you say we don't need feminism anymore?"

This weekend I was blessed with a perfect rebuttal.

Feminism has been shouting for decades that No means No.

Imagine the following scenario: A man says to a woman "Don't take this the wrong way, but I find you very interesting, and I would like to talk more. Would you like to come to my hotel room for coffee?" The woman says "No, thank you." Hearing this, the man says no more to her and leaves her alone.

Feminists should be happy with this outcome. But they aren't.

No, because feminists want a world where men can't initiate sex. They might say that what this man did was wrong because:
1) It was 4 a.m.
2) They were alone in an elevator
3) He was drunk

But none of those things matter - it might've been 4 a.m., but hookups happen at that hour, too. He also probably didn't ask in the company of other people because he wanted to give her the option to be discreet. He also probably wouldn't of had the courage to ask her if he were completely sober.

But no - none of this matters because No means No isn't good enough apparently. The new feminist moto is "Everything means No!"

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Jack & Jill and the "Burdensome Bucket"

I love the title of this post - it's like some cheesy middle-school mystery novel. But in reality, this is WAY more fun - it's a chose your own adventure story! Yay!

Jack and Jill were in love. They lived at the top of a hill. Unfortunately, a drought was coming, and they needed water, and the only well was at the bottom of the hill.
They needed three buckets full of water to last through the coming drought. It was getting dark, they only had three buckets and there wasn't time to make two trips before it got dark.

Returning with less than three buckets full of water would result in them both not having enough water to drink for the coming drought.

Jack and Jill headed down the mountain, three buckets in tow, to fetch the water they needed for the upcoming drought. They knew that come midnight, that night, the seasonal drought would come and last for the next 10 days. The well would be dry and this was their last chance to get water. When Jack and Jill reached the bottom of the hill, there was a sign next to the well. It read:
Women must carry two buckets up the hill. Men may only carry one bucket up the hill.
~ The Patriarchy

Jack and Jill obeyed the sign. Jack took the blue bucket and Jill picked up the red and yellow bucket.

After about a quarter of the way up the hill, Jack has to take a break to pee. He sets down his blue bucket and heads off into the bushes. Jill realizes that carrying twice the load of water up the hill is unfair. Jill:
A) continues all the way up the hill without complaining - because the sign did seem official - and she didn't want to upset the status quo.
GO TO A#

B) attempts to convince Jack to take the other bucket when they reach the half way point.
GO TO B#

C) forces Jack to take the third bucket - or else she will not carry any buckets to the top of the hill.
GO TO C#

D) decides to sabotage Jack's bucket.
GO TO D#

E) decides to sabotage all the buckets to teach Jack a lesson.
GO TO E#

-------------------------------

A#) Jill, recognizing the apparent unfairness of Jack's distribution of buckets, but still bound by the sign, carries both buckets, one in each hand, to the top of the hill. When they reach the top, Jack asks for a back rub, but Jill's hands are too sore to rub his back.
GO TO A1#

B#) Jill, realizing that the arrangement is unfair, speaks to Jack rationally and explains that the sign doesn't have to be obeyed - and that they should do what is fair. Jack, who loves Jill very much, doesn't want her to suffer unfairly. "To hell with the Patriarchy!" Jack says, and promises to carry both buckets when they get to the halfway point. When they get to the halfway point, Jack:
B1) honors his promise to Jill, and takes the yellow bucket from her.
GO TO B1#

B2) realizes that carrying one bucket is actually harder than carrying two buckets. He realizes that the Patriarchy was trying to protect women from the more difficult job, and refuses to take the second bucket.
GO TO B2#

C#) Jill, angry that Jack so readily agreed to an obviously-unfair arrangement, demands he take the extra bucket. Jack, wanting to please Jill, does so, but feels bitter she would be so angry about it. As he waddles up the hill with Jill by his side, he thinks to himself "Why couldn't she just ask nicely?" When they eventually reach the top, Jill's back hurts quite a lot. Unfortunately, Jacks hands are too sore to massage her aches. Jill thinks Jack is just bitter that she forced him to carry the two buckets.
GO TO A1#

D#) Jill decides to teach Jack a lesson. She quickly fills up Jack's bucket with dark smooth rocks before he returns. He comes back (without even washing his hands! EW!) and hefts up the rock-filled bucket. He carries it, alongside Jill to the top of the hill. As they pour out their buckets into the water barrel, Jack finally realizes his bucket was full of rocks the whole time. Exasperated, he looks at Jill. "Don't look at me, Jack. You'd better hurry, double-time down the hill and get that third bucket of water. If you're quick, it will only be dark for your trip back up the hill." Jack, recognizing that Jill already carried two buckets up, takes off down the hill in the dusk to bring his second bucket up. His back already sore from carrying the single, unbalanced bucket up the hill, considers taking two buckets. Jack decides:
D1) take one bucket down the hill, because two buckets might make him too slow to get back before dark.
GO TO D1#
D2) take two buckets down the hill, to get more water and save his ailing back.
GO TO D2#

E#) As Jack is relieving himself in the bushes, Jill decides to make her own "contribution" to the buckets of water. Jill, driven insane by the unfairness of their situation (coupled with the unimaginable fact that this type of unfairness has been occuring to millions of OTHER women because of that DAMN SIGN), brings the tainted water back up to the house and pours it into the water barrel. Later, as the drought ravages the land the next day, the putrid smell of the water barrel clues Jack in to Jill's deeds. He confronts her and she readily admits what she's done.
GO TO E1

--------------------------------------------

A1#) Both go to bed in pain, unable to comfort the other - but not quite sure who to blame. After all, if they switched roles, then Jill would be going to bed with a sore back and Jack would have sore hands - and just how would that be any better?

B1#) Jack takes the yellow bucket from Jill and begins up the second half of the hill. After just a few steps, Jack realizes that carrying two balanced buckets is actually easier, and is grateful to Jill for making the rest of the trip easier on his aching back. Jill is relieved because she can now carry the remaining bucket in one hand, giving one hand a rest at a time. She switches the bucket back and forth for the rest of the trip to the top. When Jack and Jill get to the top, they take turns giving each other a back rub - because both of their backs hurt a little, but neither of their hands hurt too much to give a rub. They then have passionate monkey sex all night long. (Ok, it was actually more like 10 minutes - but it was a REALLY good 10 minutes.)

B2#) Jack carries the one bucket the rest of the way up the hill. Jill is bitter at Jack for having the "easier" job, and Jack is bitter that Jill doesn't recognize his sacrifice. They both go to bed in pain, but also resenting the other person's attitude and inability to see the suffering they are enduring.

D1#) Jack grabs the bucket, empties out the remaining rocks, and charges down the hill. He gets to the bottom and fills up the bucket. He charges up the hill, his back nearly breaking from the awkward weight. As he nears the house, he hears the sound of wolves howling, and turns to look behind him. He tweaks his already-weak back and tumbles off the hill, smashing his brains on the rocks below. Jill, safe at home with her two buckets-worth of water and only sore hands, is comfortable, but ultimately lonely.

D2#) Jack grabs the two buckets and charges down the hill. He fills up both buckets, ignoring the sign, and begins the long, slow haul back up the hill. Unfortunately, he is too slow and it gets dark. He is eaten by a Gazebo. Jill, safe at home with her two buckets-worth of water and only sore hands, is comfortable, but ultimately lonely.

E1#) Jack and Jill spend the coming weeks drinking the foul water, becoming ill and ultimately dying of dysentery.

THE END

I hope you enjoyed reading that more than I enjoyed writing it. I had this idea because I wanted to get across the idea that not only is it important for feminists to chose the correct tactic when it comes to solving problems of gender roles in society, but it is important for men to have the right attitude when it comes to fixing it.

In case it isn't obvious the following "solutions" are allegorical of the following ideologies.

A 1 is the result of non-feminist mindset maintaining the status quo. I don't think that this is very likely at this point - I think we'd have to take steps BACKWARDS to have this happen regularly.
B 1 is the ideal ending and is the result of non-retributive gender egalitarianism by both women and men.
B 2 is the result of gender egalitarian women being held back by (well-meaning) non-gender egalitarian men.
C is what would happen if we get a non-gender egalitarian men coupled with gynocentric feminist women. It results in a similar situation to A 1, oddly enough. This could be the result of what would happen if misogynist MRAs and misandrist feminists got their way - the gender wars would be in full scale blitzkreig.
D 1&2 is the result of gynocentric feminists who practice the "zero-sum" battle for equality. (This aspect of feminism was responsible for the poorly-thought-out domestic violence and paternity laws that are currently responsible for a great deal of suffering on the part of men and also, consequently, one of the best recruiting tools that MRAs could hope for.)
E is the probable result of gender-segregation radical feminists and their ilk.

As a way of analyzing my own allegory, I'd like to point out the interesting similarities that I think we face in A and C. I want to state this plainly: if men don't get on board with gender egalitarianism, we are lost.

Secondly, I want to address the likelihood of A and E. I think the probability of sliding backwards into a pre-feminist state is about as likely as fully-implemented gender-segregation (meaning: not very likely at all.) I also think that these two groups overestimate the likelihood of the other taking hold (i.e. rad fems warn of backsliding, non-feminists warn of "feminazi" death camps.) That said, I think we need to speak out equally against BOTH groups. I think if either group got its way that suffering would be increased among all of us.

Wordpress?

I've been considering switching to Wordpress - but I'm not sure how easy it is to transfer an entire blog. Does anyone have any experience with this?

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

An Honest Question



I have heard a great deal about victim blaming in the past few months. Honestly, it was a new concept to me.

The more I think about it though, I get more confused.

So I want to pose a simple question:

Man A heads into the bar district of his local city late on a Friday night. He finds a tall, muscular man wearing tattoos and piercings. He walks up to him and says "Hey, pussy. You look like a piece of shit, and I wouldn't fuck your mother with a AIDS-infested dick."
Man A is punched and kicked by the tall, muscular man until he is unconscious in the gutter. He is permenantly brain damaged for life, and undergoes 10 years of physical therapy to regain the ability to walk.

Man B is walking home from his office late on a Friday night. He is stopped by a tall, muscular man wearing tattoos and piercings. The tall, muscular man pokes his finger into Man B's chest and says "I don't like the color of your shirt!"
The tall, muscular man punches and kicks Man B until he is unconscious in the gutter. He is permanently brain damaged for life, and undergoes 10 years of physical therapy to regain the ability to walk.

Assuming that physical violence is never appropriate, other than in the case of self defense, is Man A or Man B more culpable for the injuries he sustained?

Just a little joke for the homebrew geeks out there.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Sleeping Through Spring - A New Life

I have returned with a new life.

I don't plan on posting a large amount of personal information on this blog. I feel like I have enough people in my life - through Facebook and other, real life venues - that I can adequately vent the often unoriginal frustrations I face. (traffic, red tape at the DMV, etc.)

I reserve my space here on the somewhat anonymous internet to talk about things I feel confidently enough to espouse as the Real Me. This also ties into the name of this blog and me - "Easily Enthused." Because when I discover a topic or issue that I don't feel that I've "got a handle on," I very quickly get enthusiastic about it, passionately arguing and discovering until I feel I've reached a resting place, metaphorically speaking.

This is my area to explore ideas and challenge common knowledge - and that doesn't really have much to do with my day-to-day life.

In the past few months I've been rather engaged in modern feminist movements. As a child and young adult, I was taught and saw the world in a rather post-feminist way. When I bumped heads with some women in the atheist movement regarding "women's voices," I was schooled in pre-conceived my post-feminism arguments were.

Before this time, when I heard some right-winger bashing feminism, they got the eye-roll and hand-wave. Terms like "man-hating" and "Marxist" were discounted out of hand by me.

But this new (to me) face of feminism (especially on the Web) forced me to admit to myself that not only did I have a pop-psy idea of feminism, but it was possible that in my life I had not listened to some people who might've had a good argument because they were dismissive of feminists. If the feminists that they were dismissing were the same radical feminists I'd bumped heads with - well maybe I had to reconsider all points of view.

This prompted me to create this site and to make a concerted effort to better understand modern Feminism. Irony of all ironies - this decision would come right before and as I made one of the most gender-oriented actions of my entire life: getting married (to a woman.)

Simply signing some papers and exchanging loops of metal wouldn't quite be ironic enough, so chance decided that my college-educated and gainfully employed now-wife would also be forced to quit her job and become a housewife (until she could find a new job in our new city.)

This change has some very obvious financial aspects that I won't bring up here: that's nothing new. But both my wife and I came to a startling conclusion after about two weeks of my 9-to-5 absence while she played the role of housewife.

Our relationship (going on 4 years now) has seen every type of stress related to "workload" there is.
At one point she was the college student, and I was the low-income-professional barely scrapping by.
At another, I was the well earning professional while she was off studying abroad in an open relationship.
Most recently, we were both well-earning professionals pampering our cat and spending too much on food that would rot in the bottom of the fridge.
But now, we play the role of well-earning professional and bored-at-home housewife - and it feels so odd.

Our responsibilities have been divided in a very simple way: I pay the bills and bring heavy things upstairs in our 3-floor townhome - she takes care of the cleaning, laundry and most food preparation.

Since I spend most waking hours in my office at work, I had to rely on my wife's opinion of how her day compared to the "working world."

Her response was shocking. I've said that my dream job is Househusband. I love to cook and although cleaning isn't my favorite thing to do, once I get started, I surprise myself at how satisfying it can be.

My wife's response to housewifing has been - mostly boredom. She has time during the day for a nap and she said that once we get into a grove (we're in a post-move mess right now) that the amount of work for her in a day doesn't add up to the amount of time she'll have to get it done. (That would change drastically if we had a child or pet, but we have neither at the moment.)

During a drive, we were discussing it and believe we've come to an answer: appliances. If she didn't have the benefit of the dishwasher, washer and dryer, stove that didn't need to be constantly stoked, etc.... taking care of a house would be a full-time job, and then some.

But as it stands right now - coming from a professional used to working 40+ hours a week, it just isn't. The argument is that second-wave feminism has more to thank from Kenmore than MacKinnon.

Luckily for me, my wife is a post-feminist. She, who graduated from a small liberal women's college after studying American Culture recognizes that her life is not so different from that of men - and certainly not so different that it makes her "oppressed as a class." It's easy for her to be thankful for the hard work of first and second wave feminists and to facepalm the arguments of modern, man-hating Marxist feminists.

I didn't know this (explicitly) before I married her - but I'm not surprised. I know she's smart.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Victim Blaming

Check this story out. Incredibly sad:

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2011/05/6-year-old-girl-killed-in-hit-and-run-driver-sought.html

Did you read the comments? Victim blaming is not isolated to rape, FYI.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Hibernation Warning

To those of you who have started following my blog, I thank you. Unfortunately, until the first week in June I will be unavailable due to personal business, including moving to a new city.

During the next three weeks I will have very little access to the Internet and/or my e-mail. I still have a lot to say, including quite a few partially-written posts waiting in the wings.

I promise I will resume writing here, but duty calls. See you soon.

EE