Adding Insult to Inquiry

Not A and Not B

Not A and Not B (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Many folks who know me have accused me of being a smug know it all. The accusation is not entirely without merit however it is drastically overstated. They decide they do not like what I have to say, and rather than try to go after my argument and find what it is lacking, attack me and call me arrogant. I am not the only person who receives this treatment of course. Conservatives in our culture like to bemoan the liberal, educated elites. This bit of chicanery trickles down over their fan-base (given the nature of American politics I have decided to stop calling it their demographic) who eat it up, actually believing these snake oil salesmen have their best interests at heart. Continue reading

You’ll Develop Someday

Note: This is a re-post of something I wrote on Tumblr last summer. I share it here because some of you did not get to see it, and to test some new stuff I tried to add to my WordPress. I hope you enjoy it.

I often worry about what’s ahead of me, but the last few days I’ve found myself worrying about what’s not in front of me. To be more accurate I worry about what’s not in front of me between my waist and my chin: breasts.

Or whatever the hell you want to call them: boobs, ta-tas, tits, chi-chis, melons… whatever juvenile euphemism you care to use they’ve been on my mind. I know finally having the real deal (and not the sad foam-rubber substitutes I currently must be satisfied with) will not make me a “real” woman. At least, I know this in my head. My heart, however is convinced I cannot feel womanly without them. I’m to the point where, consequences be damned, I’m ready to order estrogen and testosterone-blockers on-line and self administer.

I’m not alone either, and I don’t just mean amongst the trans woman community. A dear friend of mine, this strong, intelligent, liberated cis woman confided that before she had children she had not been terribly well endowed. Pregnancy changed all that and she told me that afterwards she felt more feminine.

As a solid three on the Kinsey Scale I can admit to finding breasts pleasing, both aesthetically and (if memory serves) sexually. What I can’t understand is the absolute power they have over us, all of us. I’ve known gay men, men who found the mention of the word vagina abhorrent, that were fascinated by a woman’s ample chest.

I understand that we are bombarded by the disgusting degree to which woman are objectified in our culture. I know that this is at least partly to blame. We get saturated with other ideas as well however. None of these other ideas seem to take hold as universally. Maybe there is something primal about us that beckons to us from the time when a nice set meant life or death for your offspring. I just don’t know.

I… we…  probably never will know. We’ll feel inadequate, aroused, ashamed and amused without ever really understanding why. All I know is I want mine. Failing that I wouldn’t mind those of another.

Creationism vs. Evolution

Right from the outset I need to set the record straight on something: Intelligent Design is the silliest bit of new-speak I have ever encountered. Whether or not there is a prime motivator is of no interest to scientists. It is entirely possible that an intelligent force did put the universe in motion,that is not something science can answer, nor is it something scientists would claim it could.

What they can claim is a fair amount of understanding of what unfolded once the universe was set in motion, and roughly how far back that was. I’ll give you a hint: it was not 12,000 years ago. Why some people insist on that particular number is beyond me. I get how they came about it, vaguely, I just don’t get why they get caught up on it. Can’t your faith allow for some gaps in the details?  Strike that, I know it can. After all we are talking about people who believe contradictory versions of the same events (you know, Luke and Matthew should have had an editing session.)

Really though, I don’t care what you chose to believe. I only get upset when you try to force those beliefs on others and threaten society’s general well being. That is what happens when you try to force Creationism (seriously, I’m standing firm with this) into a science class. Leave it in social studies to teach that some people believe the universe is 12,000 years old and that it was created, all as we see it now, minus mankind’s influence since then,  in six days. That’s fine, maybe even important, because those people have had an influence on just about every society currently in existence. It does not, however, belong in a science class.

Science is about testing ideas about how the universe works. You can’t test Creationism, pure and simple. Evolution has been tested, over and over. It is the best explanation for how life came to be in the form it is now. It relies on multiple disciplines and discussing it allows for students to learn about all of those. It allows for the opportunity to develop the skills you might need if you want to go into a field where the scientific method is essential, most notably medicine.

Which brings to mind the most obvious harm done by wanting to shoe horn Creationism into a science class and refute evolution. By undermining the teaching of the scientific method, you are making it that much harder to train the next generation of engineers, doctors, meteorologists, nurses, and chemists. I’ve heard the argument from the anti choice side of the abortion debate that an aborted “baby” could have been the one to cure cancer. That requires one hell of an assumption. What I find particularly curious is that these people also fall down on the side that would almost guarantee we never find a cure for cancer by making sure the next generation does not have the know how to do it.

Again, believe what you will, even if you hurt yourself doing it (though I’d prefer you didn’t.) When, however,  you make the world a less certain place by impeding learning I have to take a stand, for myself, for the people I love and for the greater good of all mankind.