Music Review: Toto's "Africa" Is About Bisexuality (My Theory)

Toto's "Africa" is one of my favorite songs, and it turns out that the song lends itself quite easily to a queer reading. See if you can spot what I mean in the lyrics (or read the lyrics here):

I have always loved this song, but listening to it now, I realize that it actually seems to make more sense if it is about a bisexual man reassuring his insecure girlfriend:

Gonna take a lot to drag me away from you. There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.

Those are some quotes of the lyrics from the chorus. The first verse is merely about a man waiting for his girlfriend to arrive in Africa (though it does sound like an excuse, for why he stopped the old man). But the entire second verse seems to support my theory.

The wild dogs cry out in the night, as they grow restless longing for some solitary company.

I always took "solitary company" to mean that the restless dogs wished to pair off and mate. "Solitary" and "company" aren't usually put together. The singer certainly has the topic of sexuality on his mind.

I know that I must do what's right, sure as Kilimanjaro rises like a leopress* above the Serengeti.

*(I thought it was "like a leopress," a female leopard, but according to the websites I've seen, it's "like Olympus." My mom, who remembers the eighties like it was yesterday, swears that she saw the lyrics in a magazine, and the word "leopress" was plainly visible. My word processor does not recognize "leopress" as a word, but we have the word "tigress," so why wouldn't we have "leopress" too?

It even sounds like "leopress," in the original music video. I suppose both of them work, though I prefer my version. Then again, the Olympic gods were notorious bisexuals--do a quick search about Zeus and Ganymede, if you don't believe me.)

It is not uncommon for LGBT to have a crises of conscience upon discovery of their sexual or gender identities. Especially if they were raised to believe that what they are is wrong. It's not clear what "do what's right" means here--simply not cheating on his girlfriend with a man, honorably breaking up with her before exploring his gay side, reassuring her that she will not lose him, or even--

I seek to cure what's deep inside, frightened of this thing that I've become

Oh wow. That got dark quickly. I guess he thinks conversion therapy will work for him. If he needs it, he's probably more than bisexual. And it usually doesn't work in the long run.

So is there any evidence in the music video that is about bisexuality? Unfortunately, I didn't find bisexuality. I found racism.

The video is...problematic, for in a song praising Africa for its inspiring and cleansing effects, the singer's black love interest is killed by a savage native. (What else could her glasses falling to the ground symbolize?) And she is most definitely the love interest, for in the romantic song mentioning "she" so very much, this actress is literally the only woman. Books and a kerosene lamp topple because of the attack, and the singer's life and love, and all symbols of such things, go up in flames.

The "good" African, the black woman, has been westernized, and is sitting at a desk, writing something in the white man's study. (Is she his secretary, taking care of his correspondences for him while he loafs with his books?) But the "civilized" African is killed--defeated--by her violent, untamed counterpart. There is apparently no room in an African's life for both peace and education on the one hand, and traditional tribal garb and way of life on the other. Why not have both, in the same individual? People are capable of both.

So is there any evidence, other than the lyrics, that they wrote this song with the experience of bisexuality in mind? None that I could find.

"Africa" is credited to band members David Paich and the late Jeff Porcaro. And while Paich has an...interesting...history on LGBT matters, there is nothing on Porcaro (except his very sudden and mysterious death at age 38).

In 2003, the band announced that Paich would be undergoing a gender reassignment surgery. Turns out that was a joke--and a bad one. When I saw the announcement while doing research for this article, my suspicions were raised when fellow member Steve Lukather referred to Paich as "he" throughout. If Paich was really a transgender woman, would Paich not have asked to be referred to as "she"? And if they were as supportive as they seemed to be, wouldn't they respect her wishes?

There was also Paich's name on a list of musicians on the site Drowned In Sound, from a poster claiming to be a closeted gay man. The list appears to be of musicians that he believes are LGBT. The list was posted in December of 2008, and it is unclear whether the poster believes Paich is gay, bisexual, transgender, or something else.

There was no other evidence that I could find.

And I could find nothing about Porcaro. But again, his death seems suspiciously young, and band members claim that he was not a drug addict, only an occasional user, so that it probably did not contribute to it. I don't think he would be killed for being bisexual per se, but then again there are some people out there who would take a life because the victim was queer. Perhaps there are some of those people in high places.

And the band does claim that the song was literally about working too hard. That this "thing" the man had become was a machine, an automaton. That could very well be, but a lot of people work too hard, and they don't usually get scared that they are monsters because of it. That seems like a very lame excuse, and a queer reading makes much more sense to me.

However it was originally intended, it makes more sense if it was actually not just about a straight romance or a white person "finding himself" (the writers had never been to Africa at the time they wrote it).

All in all, we may never know for certain what the character of the song wished to "cure" deep inside him, and what thing he had become. But what other thing is treated like this not only in the West, but in many African nations? We do not even treat mental illness like it's both a curable disease, and that it makes people into monsters (or at least, most people should know better). Where else does talk of sexuality, and the words "do what's right," "cure," "deep inside," and "become" fit perfectly together? (Though one doesn't "become" gay that we know of, some people believe that others do.)
I love this song, but it is a very dark song. A man goes to Africa, away from his girlfriend, and has a bisexual awakening, then decides to try conversion therapy, "frightened of this thing that (he's) become."

LGBTQ: How To Deal With The Religious Homophobes Inside Your Head

I woke up this morning with my cat demanding to come in my window and cuddle with me. I let him in, lay down again, and started petting him. He cuddled right up to me, and demanded more and more petting.
It was such a happy moment, but for some reason, I had woken up thinking about the homophobic people I had encountered over the years. I found myself getting upset and arguing with them once again--even though they weren't really there, only in my thoughts.
Society's homophobia, and my reactions to it, had ruined a perfectly good moment. So I tried to remind myself that they weren't here, they didn't want to be convinced not to hurt people, and they didn't matter. It wasn't easy, but I tried to think of happy things.

I don't believe that anyone "lets" someone bother them. I don't believe that for one second, because I never chose to be bothered by people--why would I? I want to be happy!
But it's important to remember that, though it is very difficult, sometimes you have to at least try to stop arguing with phantoms. You have to at least try to think of what you look forward to about the day, even if it's something very small.
Your energy is too precious to be wasted on anything you don't want to do. On something that doesn't accomplish anything for you. On people that deep down, like to hurt others, though they won't admit that to themselves.
(I say they like to hurt others, because there are so many resources out there, they could at least look at why some people believe God does not punish people for being themselves and falling in love. But they don't. And so they are getting something out of hurting others.)

I think often of Ellen Degeneres. She doesn't waste time arguing with her haters. She just does her show and her voice acting. I try to emulate that attitude.

For me, arguing with imaginary homophobes--the reflections of my own homophobic side--threatens to hurt my writing.
I think back to when I was much more productive with my writing. This was about ten years ago, when I was fifteen and sixteen. What was different about that time? For one, I thought I was straight at the time. I assumed gay issues, while hurting others, did not affect directly. Now I realize it does.  I had other things to be bothered about--but nothing that made me a bad person. So now, I try to remind myself of my good qualities, and that wanting to be straight doesn't necessarily make someone good. So the fact that I just want to be myself, is just as good a choice. (Probably better, or at least easier!)
Another thing that was different is that I didn't have access to the internet as much as I do now. No one limited how much time I spent on it or what I read, but there weren't as many resources for every subject as there is now. And there weren't as many comment sections. And I wasn't on Facebook.
What I'm saying is, it used to be that we all didn't have access to arguments the way we do now. It used to be that we argued about things as they came up with relatives and friends. Now I can go literally almost anywhere on the internet and pick a fight about something if I wanted to. In fact, it's hard not to come across controversy sometimes.
I also literally always have the option, on Facebook, to go back and revisit the horribly, religiously homophobic people I've messaged (when they've had children) or who have messaged me. There is no "I did what I could, and now they're gone." And that sucks.
There are some people who are hurting their children, and they refuse to change because they like it--even if they don't think it's their children they are hurting. And now I have access to these self-righteous people, access which I don't want. And that sucks.
So I try to limit my internet usage to "happy" things as much as possible. And I often go a few days a week, at least, without checking Facebook. Facebook can wait.

I also used to feel silenced a lot. About ten years ago, the thought of arguing with someone scared me. Now I finally feel like I have a voice, and a right to say what I believe and what I think is right. But I often feel obligated to defend myself from verbal attacks--even when the attackers aren't there. And though I have a voice now, I am not obligated to use it, especially all the time. I can have a life, too.

Sometimes I pour out my soul in a special document on my computer. I dump all the mental toxins there, argue all I want to, and no one has to see it or get an opportunity to respond. I always have the option of saying these things later. Sometimes I pour out my soul, and then I can create positive things. With my writing, and in other endeavors, and just with my life.
I have found that I actually need a battery of techniques to combat my internalized homophobia and how it manifests in my life and my mind. Sometimes dumping all my feelings on paper helps. And sometimes it helps more to just try to write about good things, and focus on the positive things about my life. Or to tunelessly hum my feelings. Or to try to help others with my writing.

Censorship Is Also Interpretation Censorship: My Thoughts On Books And Scripture

I recently wrote about my county losing its library system, and how that would affect the literary freedom of poorer residents. Without a county library system, with all of its resources and the ability to borrow from other libraries across the country, those who can't buy books, can't read books. Or rather, can't choose the books they read.
But all of this got me to thinking about what books really are: They are other people's ideas. 

The freedom to read what you want--to have access to the things you want to read--is the freedom to take in and, if you like, be influenced by the information and ideas of other people. Restricting books is isolating people from each other.
Other people's printed thoughts have the power to change religions beliefs, political ideologies, ideas of how one should live their own life, and a thousand tiny everyday opinions as well. The freedom to read, interpret, and agree or disagree with, what one chooses, is religious, political, and personal freedom.
No wonder many religious and political institutions in power have tried to curtail that freedom. They know that there might be mass conversions away from their beliefs and systems if this freedom is allowed to go unchecked.

But actual censorship isn't the only way they do this. I disagree with the author of the book mentioned in the last post, The Woman Reader by Belinda Jack, when she says that "(Writer Doris) Lessing is right that no-one can tell us how to read."
 For example, how many people in America will tell you exactly how to read--or rather how to interpret--the Bible? For evangelists who make such a big deal out of their reading the bible "literally," they are eager to tell you exactly what each passage means, whether you ask or not.
When I read the bible, I see a Jesus who cared more about people than he did about rules. Who believed that God cared more about people than he did about rules. But apparently man was indeed made for the law, according to conservative Christians, and the law was not made for man. Provided, of course, that it isn't Jewish law (unless they wish to use the Old Covenant to conveniently condemn modern-day homosexuals or anyone else they don't care for). I don't think that it is impossible for one to be a "Pharisee," just because they are not first-century-non-Messianic-Jewish--but a lot of people would tell me I'm reading it the wrong way.
They would tell me how to read. Especially because I'm a woman--and a queer woman.

(I may do more formal reviews of The Woman Reader, if I have anything more to say about it. It is quite interesting so far.)

The right to read--and to read what one chooses, and how one chooses to interpret something--should be protected for all, including women, lower-income people, and children. (Because children have rights too, not just parents. And that includes freedom of religion and political opinions.)
I am very glad that I have always had access to books, and no restrictions on what I could read, at least in my teenage years. But some are not so lucky. And we need to protect their freedoms as much as we can.
There is no difference between deciding what children read, censoring what women read, restricting what the masses may read, and denying scripture to the masses. There is also no difference between those things, and telling people how to read scripture and other books. They all restrict religious freedom, which conservatives and others say they hold so dear.

When A Town Loses It Library, Many Residents Lose Their Literary Freedoms

I have just started reading The Woman Reader by Belinda Jack, a history of women's literacy. Even the introduction talks about the many ways in which books have been censored, by the church and even in other countries. And though the censoring of women's books has been less formal, women's reading especially has caused a lot of anxiety from men in power.
Jack says:

"For much of history it was this fear of women assuming greater power that caused the most unease. One strategy was--and is--to deny women education, but with the passage of time women in many parts of the world did become numerate and literate. This did not mean that they had free access to the material they most wanted to read, of course. The revolutionary moment, for the woman reader, comes in those parts of the world where women were both able to read, and had free access to a significant range of material. In many cases what mattered most was to be able to use libraries."

(Bold is mine.)

Here I would like to note that I live in America, in the area of Roseburg, Oregon, where the county shut down all of our libraries because they "couldn't afford it." I remain skeptical, as this is a big timber-producing area, with all of the Federal dollars that implies. It is only through volunteers at Sutherlin and other nearby small-town libraries that we even have any tiny libraries at all--our whole library system is gone. And there are no libraries in Roseburg, the biggest city in the county and the county seat.
These circumstances make the very next sentences from this book all that much more interesting--and alarming--for me:

The writer Doris Lessing, who grew up in colonial Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe), makes the point very clearly: 'With a library you are free,' she writes, 'not confined by temporary political climates.' For Lessing, who saw in South Africa a regime's appalling attempts to deny freedom to the majority, access to books is the most fundamental human right. The library, she goes on to say, 'is the most democratic of institutions because no-one--but no-one at all--can tell you what to read and when and how." 

(Quoted from Doris Lessing, Index on Censorship, vol. 28, no. 2 (Apr. 1999), pp. 158-9)

Pretty chilling that because of county budget priorities, Douglas County residents who can't afford a computer or books of their own live, at least in one sense, like those in colonial Rhodesia. Modern white Americans, especially, like to believe they live in a more enlightened place than either Africa or the past.
Who knows whether the taking of literacy freedoms was done on purpose by the county commissioners. But the effects themselves are enough of a concern.

Why Do Feminists Protect Rape Victims Better Than Conservative Christians?

It's interesting that secular feminists are like, "No means no," but the Christian patriarchal people who "protect their women" have a bunch of excuses for why it's not really rape.

"If she didn't scream," when a lot of women and others freeze up in danger.

"If she wasn't modest," like it never gets hot outside, or as if modesty were not a different thing in everyone's mind. Or as if "wanting attention" means wanting to be brutally violated.

(In a system in which we all deserve hell--which means these "righteous men" deserve to be raped also.)

"If she didn't fight him off," which basically means if she didn't die fighting him off. Which actually didn't happen in the biblical story of Tamara, where it explicitly says that it's a rape! And also the story of Dinah.

They "protect their women," but they really don't!

They think, in most cases, that being raped means that she didn't DESERVE to be protected from rape. What other crime do we treat that way?

As if bad things never happened to good people. They never see themselves as deserving of bad or terrible things.

There was a Republican senator--I don't want to search for his name and relive it, look up the story if you wish--who said that having sex with a woman in her sleep was not rape. If I want to wait until marriage to have sex, I have to never sleep!

(And no, maybe she won't wake up and resist--as if any of these men have ever had to wake up in their bedrooms fighting for their lives. Making she took a sleeping pill for insomnia. That's not consent or a sin.)

Maybe they're afraid that women will have sex and then say it was rape--but isn't the greater danger driving rape victims to silence, self-hatred, and suicide? Don't these "pro-life" people care about women's lives?

And this is saying nothing of male rape victims, or lesbian rape victims. (From their partners, or "corrective rape," designed to make them straight. Yeah, nothing like trauma to be a turn-on.) Or the fact that most rapes are committed by someone the victim knows and trusts. Someone she doesn't think would ever do that to her. Who would suspect all of their friends and family (and pastors), all of the time?

What in their pasts are these men trying to justify?

Spider-Man Comics: Making Soap Operas Acceptable To Men--And Other Thoughts

I decided to get rid of some of my comic books lately, so I found some Spider-Man comics that I didn't want anymore. I had tried to get into Spider-Man, I really had, but for some reason I never saw the appeal.
So I tried to give them one more chance. Most of my Spider-Man comics are from the 1990s, when it wasn't uncommon to have many-parted stories, even ones spanning up to five different series, so that you have to subscribe to five different series just to see how it ends. (Superman comics were really bad about this in the 90s, but Spider-Man apparently did this too.)
So I picked up a standalone comic (Web of Spider-Man 92, September 1992), thinking that I didn't have to worry about not catching up. But somehow, Peter Parker was still bothered, apparently, by something that happened in the last comic (probably in many previous comics). I had seen no indication on the cover that it was continued from the last issue of WOS, or from another series.
And yet I found myself thinking, "Who is Betty and why does she blame him for her husband's death?"
And then I remembered that this had been typical for any modern Spider-Man comics I had seen. Here are my thoughts on the character:

1) The Bold And The Bugbrain: He lives in a daytime drama.

 I realized that this was the problem with Spider-Man for me: He always had some shit to deal with. There was always something going on, I was always plunked down in the middle of an ongoing story, and if I recall right, it had been happening since the 1970s (in the comics; I was born in 1991).
 And I don't care for this approach to storytelling. I have my own shit to deal with, and now I have to deal with Spider-Man's? I like my peaceful life; why would I escape into one filled with interpersonal drama?
Sometimes his personal problems are related to his villains, sometimes they are not. And while superpowers, insanity, and accidents that drive people to evil corruption can sometimes make things much more interesting, underneath it all, it's still drama. With a big enough budget and a long enough run time, any soap opera series would go into every one of these plotlines. It's a glorified super-powered soap opera.

2) The count of his friends can rival Game Of Thrones (and it's just as bloody and complicated). 

What made the Winter Soldier storyline, in both the movie and the Captain America comic books, so addictive, wonderful, and heart-wrenching was the fact that it was Bucky who was corrupted. Bucky, Cap's sidekick from the beginning--the very beginning in 1942! This was a rare storyline to pursue for Cap, and it had so much history behind it.
It became great, because Captain America was treated like Spider-Man--only they did it rarely, and with so recognizable a character. Imagine if Uncle Ben came back from the dead as a brainwashed assassin that Spidey had to fight. Or Aunt May gets brainwashed, because that's actually someone we know better. How awesome would that be?
And yet Spider-Man has SO MANY friends, that it becomes hard to keep track of them all, or to care about any of them.

3) Flash Thompson was not a bully, he was preserving his own soul.

And when they're not being killed or kidnapped, they're turning evil at alarming rates. Doc Ock, the Lizard, Norman Osborn, Harry Osborn, even the parasitic alien goo that comprises half of Venom--I am not even a Spider-fan, and I could name five off the top of my head! Even if you're living tar from outer space, the minute you befriend Peter Parker is the first step in your downward spiral into madness, your first handshake the dreadful sign of your inevitable and inescapable corruption.
 Flash was perhaps afraid to get close to him, and perhaps he was onto something. He knew that Peter was the Horcrux of a tiny, radioactive, eight-legged Voldemort. (Voldemorachnid?) I would love to know if the evil spider who bit him had previously murdered Ant Man.
Spider-Man has so much going for him, especially all of the many, MANY silly and colorful villains. He is the Flash of Marvel. I should love him. And I do--when he isn't weighed down by his wife wanting a divorce or his aunt possibly having cancer or him feeling responsible for his girlfriend's death. And I have to go pretty far back to get the purely fun, colorful crimefighting of yesteryear. I think even in the 60s, there was still a bit of drama.
When Harry Osborn became the new Green Goblin, that was a great concept and storyline. But they did that kind of thing too much. Now everyone around him is either going to become a villain, or get mixed up with one.


4) He appeals to a victimhood mentality.

And everyone is inevitably going to get mad at Pete for something that isn't his fault. (He's such a "nice guy," after all.) He's sometimes the avatar for a certain kind of male. The kind of male that the internet first called "nice guys," then called "neckbeards," and now I believe they're called "fuckboys." But whatever you call them, these are the guys (usually young, but they can be into their thirties and beyond) who are always a victim. Something is always happening to them, and it's always someone else' fault.
The most famous and common example is that the women they like "always pick the assholes." (I once misread that phrase, and thought someone was complaining that so many women were literally picking THEIR OWN ASSHOLES, like someone would pick their own nose. I was horrified, for one very long and unpleasant minute.)
Or that the woman they are currently with, is somehow ruining their life, and why can't these women just treat them right, because they're nice guys, after all? Apparently not hitting women is enough in their minds.
Usually, these men are blaming women for either not being attracted to them, or once they are with them, not giving them enough sex or making reasonable requests to help with the children or household tasks.
Spider-Man himself is not a professional victim--he tries to help those who cause him harm, not blame them. But I think he appeals to these types of men, because something is always happening to him that is not his fault. It's always someone else who is evil or reckless with their experiments or carrying their emotions of grief too far. It is very rare that anything is his fault. (And let's be real--do we really expect him to give up fighting crime to spend more time with Mary Jane? MJ is meant to be seen as unreasonable. The only time I really saw any fault with him is when he lied too much in one issue, and learned he had a problem.)
I have personally heard a Spider-Man fan or two describe themselves as a "nice guy" unironically. But Spider-Man sets an excellent example for how to deal with--how to try to help--those who cause you grief through no real fault of their own. Yet the danger is that he's too perfect, and everyone around him is unreasonable. And that "everyone around me is unreasonable" is what fanboys will ultimately take from it.

5) He has a rare mother figure.

He also has a mother figure sometimes mentoring him, which is so rare for a male superhero. Most of the time he has the mindset of trying to take care of the helpless little woman (even when he was a teenager). But occasionally Aunt May dispenses advice which is unintentionally useful in his crimefighting.
I am tired of seeing male superheroes obsessed with their dead fathers. Especially Superman, who never even knew his biological father (his sperm donor), but obsesses over him, even comically arguing and taking advice from a computer simulation of his ghost--but cares nothing for his dead birth mother (egg donor). He never knew her, but he never knew his sperm donor, either. And  he constantly shits on his adoptive family by not acknowledging them as his parents, when they raised him from a baby! They weren't abusive or neglectful, so why aren't they his parents?
And there's also Batman, who also seems to worship his father an inordinate amount compared to his mother--and he knew both of them until he was about ten.
So, even though Spider-Man obsesses over Uncle Ben, when Aunt May is still alive and ready to dispense wisdom and good advice, it's refreshing that he has a "mother." And it's very rare in comics that any female would not be a young, pretty love interest (yes, I've heard of those gross movies)--even though he seems to have to take care of her when she should be taking care of him.
(Even when he is still a boy, and she seems elderly but able-bodied--because he has a penis, I guess.  And she can cook and clean a large house, but cannot even be a part-time receptionist, because she lost all job skills upon her marriage.)
At least in the beginning, Aunt May played a much bigger role than either Martha Kent or Aunt Harriet. (In the comics, at least--does anyone even remember Aunt Harriet, other than in the 1960s Batman TV show?) I just wish that he would have consistently looked up to her as the mentor figure she could have been, rather than obsessing over one short sentence uttered by his dead uncle. (Because other than that, what do we really know of Uncle Ben, anyway?) Uncle Ben may have been the reason he became Spider-Man, but the living Aunt May should have been the reason that he continued fighting evil.

My relationship with the character of Spider-Man is...complicated. I wish I could just tell him to lighten up, to stop feeling so responsible for taking on other people's drama. Any time he has a simple, angst-free superhero storyline, I gobble that shit up. But unfortunately, that excludes most of his comic book history. I'm limited, basically, to anything done for little kids--though I don't mind terribly, but it would be nice to have grownup storylines without teenage angst. We need a mixture of light and dark, not all dark all the time.
I realize I'm generalizing very much here. I can't read all of the Spider-Man comic books ever published, or even most of them. All of his adventures could be crammed into ten very busy human lifetimes. He's like a friend that I like as a person, but don't like to be around because I don't want to take on his burdens and constant life drama.
I hope for all of our sakes that Spider-Man is allowed to retire his Midas Touch of Evilness when meeting new friends, has a happy marriage, doesn't have to worry about his elderly aunt, and also fights challenging bad guys against insurmountable odds.
Maybe some people actually like that his inner demons make him more "relatable," but it just makes me want to avoid him so that I don't have to hear about his depressing life--while not even being able to help him.
Spidey deserves to be happy for a while, in his personal life. And we deserve to see him happy.

Supergirl Pilot Episode Review: How To Make Jimmy Olsen Black

Not a lot of people know this about me, but I am a HUGE Jimmy Olsen fan. I literally have every issue of the golden, silver, and bronze age comic series, Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen. It took me a long time to collect all 163 issues from 1954 to 1974. (I quoted that statistic off the top of my head--look it up, I have that much confidence. I know I'm right.) But it was worth it.
I am obsessed with my favorite characters, of which he is one. I love the goofiness of the golden and silver ages, and the changes of the 1970s when he becomes "Mr. Action" and gets more politically involved. And I love that his disguises--including cross-dressing--have remained a part of his character since the very first issue.
And even though I chose not to collect the series when it became Superman Family at issue 164, folding in both the Lois Lane and Supergirl series also (again, off the top of my head), my Jimmy Olsen collection is one of my most prized possessions. Number one is not in Near Mint condition, but it is mine.
And I would never give up even one book in my collection, unless I had to feed myself, pay for a medical emergency, or get a degree for a dream job that I love more than Jimmy Olsen. (Ha!)

So it really upsets me when he is portrayed in movies and on TV as anything less than his magnificent, bright-orange-redheaded, freckled, bow-tie-wearing, Superman-worshipping, geeky self. And he is portrayed with brown hair literally every single fucking time.
These casting directors have absolutely no excuse. Rupert Grint exists. If you can find a Ron Weasely, you can find a Jimmy Olsen. But apparently since the 1930s, redheads have only existed in cartoons and comic books.

I also really love Supergirl, almost as much as I love her friend Mary Marvel. In fact, if Supergirl doesn't end up with Mary Marvel, Jimmy Olsen is my first choice. He is the only acceptable love interest, in my mind, for Hetero Supergirl. The only one.

So at first I was very unhappy, watching the first episode of CW's Supergirl, when the character introduced as "James Olsen" was a thirty-five-year-old, tall, muscular black man with no hair--not just non-red hair, no hair at all!
But then I realized, as a Jimmy Olsen/Supergirl super-fangirl, that, if they were going to change his appearance so drastically, the producers of the show could have had a lot more fun with it. In the pilot, he meets Kara (called her Kryptonian name in real life, apparently--if they didn't want to go with Linda, would it have killed them to shorten it to Lynne or something?), then right away hints at his friendship with Superman. She exclaims, "You're Jimmy Olsen!" and he corrects her--"James." Because apparently in a show called SuperGIRL, we have to be reminded that Jimmy Olsen is all grown up.
There is no iconic bow tie to be seen.
But they could have made it so much better. Consider this instead:

Throughout the first episode, Kara keeps running into the new guy from work--who is wearing a bow tie. Most people will not notice the bow tie at first, at least on a black man. He keeps trying to introduce himself, but they get interrupted every time.
Finally, at the very end of the episode, he gets the chance to say, "There you are. We haven't been formally introduced. I'm Jimmy Olsen."
"Oh!" she exclaims in surprise, glancing at his bow tie. "You're...not like I pictured you..."
"What do you mean?" he asks.
"I expected you be...you know...shorter," she answers sincerely.
He appears genuinely perplexed. "Yeah, for some reason, when people hear the name 'Jimmy Olsen,' they picture a skinny little white kid."

In this way, we can have fun with the change. We can take it seriously, because of Kara's sincere tone of voice when she says "shorter," as if she is not thinking of some other word. And his real confusion over why people think of him as white would avoid the "wink-wink" type of fourth wall break that thinks it is so clever, but which is severely overused (and which I can't stand).
But at the same time, we would give the audience a mystery to solve, and acknowledge the big change that is made. The exchange about him being shorter could easily be ruined with bad acting or bad direction to the actors, but if the actors are sincere--if the characters really believe that "shorter" is the most appropriate word--then it can be pulled off beautifully.
 (He also could have figured out on his own that Kara was Supergirl, making him look much smarter than if Superman had simply told him, as in the show. That reveal just makes him look like a real jerk for hinting at it throughout the episode, as if he wasn't trying to figure something out but rather just wanted to tease her and make her anxious about her secret identity.)
And he doesn't even have to wear a bow tie after the first episode. Just give us the pilot, have him say later that his other ties were dirty if you want. But Jimmy Olsen doesn't need a phallic symbol on his neck.

If you're going to change such a major and beloved character's appearance so much from the comic book--not just his race, but also his age, build, height, hair style, fashion sense, personality (more confident, less awkward, no gushing over Superman), and even the name he goes by--you're going to have to address that. While also taking the change seriously, so it doesn't look like you're making a black man, and your entire show, nothing more than a joke.
By making a mystery out of who this guy is--while providing a subtle visual clue--and addressing the change without getting overly jokey about it, we can do this. That is something this white, Jimmy-Olsen-purist, super-fan-girl can get behind.

LGBTQ: More On Accepting Yourself IN SPITE of Being Gay

I never thought I would get so many views on my last article, "Sometimes You Have To Love Yourself IN SPITE of Being Gay."

I thought for sure it would be, "Internalized Homophobia And The Importance of...Humming," or "Why You Maybe SHOULD Ask If Someone Is Gay." Not even my article about Slytherin being the best Hogwarts house in the Harry Potter universe got as many views. People believe gay is good, but are having more of a struggle with self-love than I thought.

I didn't even think it was written as well as some other articles, because I talked about myself a lot. And it was smaller than others. But I apparently struck a nerve.

It's exhausting, sometimes, to affirm in your own mind that gay is good, in spite of your homophobic programming. You've got to love yourself in spite of it. In spite of everything.

In my experience, Christian songs still pop into my head almost every day, even though it's been about seven years since I listened to any kind of Christian music (except in the occasional Salvation Army thrift store). So of course it makes sense that the same ideas from my childhood would pop into my head also--especially since I occasionally still come across those same ideas, in spite of trying to avoid them for my own sake. (This is one of the reasons I avoid even the best gay Christian sites, because it attracts well-meaning and ill-meaning homophobes alike.)

Internalized homophobia is like having a sharp knife in your mind, that you try to avoid touching. And sometimes your efforts to remove it or dull it only cut you up badly. So it's best to avoid it sometimes, not confront it head-on. That's why I like trying different strategies than arguing with it (which is exhausting and only winds me up and makes me feel even worse).

Internalized homophobia, especially if it is upsetting enough to argue with myself about, makes me feel like scum, like the worst person, for being gay and choosing to accept it and explore my interest in queer studies. (Though not formally at this time, since I don't want to spend tens of thousands of dollars on a degree.) And no amount of arguing can seem to help my feeling like scum.

So...what if I am? What if I am the worst person? The worst person in the world? (In a world full of murderers, pedophiles, and rapists--some would argue I'm worse than them. Those people scare me-- what the hell are they doing?)

What if I am the worst person I could be? Shouldn't I love myself in spite of that? In spite of my "non-repentance"? (How long am I going to miserable, repenting? I went for years constantly repenting of everything, before I even consciously knew I was bisexual--when I thought I was straight.)

I tell myself, "I love you, in spite of all that." In spite of everything. And it makes me feel better.

I try to make self-love a big part of my life. I believe it makes people physically healthier, not just emotionally healthier. And you have to accept yourself exactly where you're at, right now--whether it's for being gay, being in the closet, not being out and loud and argumentative with relatives that scare you physically or emotionally, being scared of homophobes or religious homophobia (even without physical danger), or not being fully able to say "Gay is good" yet, without internal conflict. You will get there someday. I think I will get there someday. And if I don't, that's okay too. I will try to accept myself in spite of it all.

LGBT: Sometimes You Have To Love Yourself IN SPITE Of Being Gay

All of the rhetoric I have seen directed towards queer persons about loving themselves, has been resting on the notion that being LGBTQ+ is not a personal fault or failing. And that is good. Very good. We are harming no one, so we don't deserve to be harmed or unfairly restricted in any way--by God or man.
But what if you can't just shake the notion that you're doing something wrong? That something is wrong with you? Your head is often less stubborn than your heart, and anti-gay or anti-trans programming can take years or a lifetime to fully unlearn. What if you can't stop thinking or feeling that you're bad?
Let me ask you a question: So what if you are?
What if you are bad? What if you are evil? What if you are the worst, most vile human being on the planet? What if you are scum?
Even if everything they say is true--why can't you still be on your own side?

I find myself arguing with the homophobes in my head more often than the homophobes on the internet or in my family. And it's exhausting. Sometimes I write down my own arguments (though it's ridiculous that I have to argue with people for my own life), sometimes I drown out the inner homophobes by humming. But trying to defeat them is exhausting.
So what if the're right? Does that mean that I should just stop taking care of myself, stop trying to be happy, kill myself? I can't do any of those things. I figured out long ago that I have to be on my own side (even against God). If they want me destroyed, they are going to have to kill me. Meanwhile, I'll live my life and try to do things that make me happy.

Maybe you should not try so hard to convince yourself that being gay is good, and you should just say, "I love myself in spite of my faults." And you can save "being gay isn't one of them" for another day. Especially some other day when you have more energy.
And it's not just useful for being gay itself. Gay guilt is also banished with this technique.
I love myself in spite of being kind-of in the closet to my family. (Though it's not my fault that they assume, and their assumptions are stubborn.) I love myself in spite of my closet.
I love myself in spite of my fear of arguing. In spite of a part of me thinking that homophobes are right when they hurt me, and wondering if that means that they're right about me and my sinfulness.
I love myself in spite of the hurt I feel when people are homophobic to me, even though I don't want to care what they think of me.
In spite of wanting to be with another woman, because I would wonder if people really accept me as myself, if I were with a man. (I'm technically bisexual.) In spite of worrying that my extended family would tell themselves I was straight, and not see the real me, and I would never know if they accept the real me, and a big part of me would be invisible. In spite of worrying that being with a man would make me lose a part of my identity that is so new to me, and so precious. Even if my mom says I should not pay attention to gender and just focus on finding a good person. Even if I can't do that, I still love myself.

I love myself in spite of hating myself. And somehow, doing that makes me not hate myself.

I love myself in spite of being gay. In spite of acting on it in the form of reading gay books and watching gay Youtube videos. In spite of cheering on the character Kevin Keller, on the show Riverdale, when he dates that hot bad-boy gangster Joachim. I love myself in spite of all of that.

I love myself in spite of everything. And I'll save combating everything for another day.

LGBTQ: Internalized Homophobia And The Importance Of...Humming

In black lesbian comedian Wanda Sykes's new tour, What Happened Ms. Sykes, she says that, in dealing with her white wife and children, "Sometimes you just have to hum a Negro spiritual,"
I don't know any Negro spirituals, and I'm not sure how much good they would do to a white person struggling with issues other than race. But I have found that sometimes when I'm stuck arguing with myself, I can actually hum away the bad thoughts.

Sometimes religious songs pop into my head at random moments, even though I haven't listened to Christian music in about eight years. I don't mind those so much. But it's the same with religious arguments against homosexuality--against what I am.Sometimes they pop into my head, especially if I was exposed to homophobic arguments recently (usually try to avoid that).
Long before I knew I was at least bisexual, I always felt like I was not a good enough Christian and never would be. And no amount of Christian "encouragement" did any good. So I know it's a self-esteem issue, not just a gay issue. Being gay is just what allows the negative, self-hating "monster" to hurt me the most.
It's a never-ending battle, and sometimes different strategies--like positive self-talk, grieving for the loss of my faith, or writing my arguments out--work for me, and sometimes they don't. The negativity is sneaky, and each time is different. But sometimes, tunelessly, mindlessly humming, works more effectively than anything else. I find it impossible to listen to the viciously self-righteous inner homophobes when all thoughts are drowned out.

Humming helps to relax you, and the vibrations are good for your body. Some people like to say "om" when meditating, thinking that it's the "perfect" sound, but I prefer to leave off the O. I softly hum or sing "mmmm" or "ahhhh." Occasionally I sing an actual song, but it's hard to come up with a happy and relaxing song when my inner homophobe is attacking. The important thing is to quickly break the pattern of my inner arguing and feeling attacked and defensive.
A cat's purr is said to be healing, especially to broken bones. The closest thing I have to purring is sometimes like morphine to a broken heart. It's probably like a mini meditation.
And according to the teacher of an acting workshop I once took, making your voice loudly vibrate increases your personal power, and the power of your voice--in more ways than one. It empowers you. She said that it especially empowers women, who often have to make their voices small and high-pitched when confronting people, to not have to be "nice" all the time.
So if you can, get loud! But if you can't, hum softly or breathe...well, breathily. Like a character in a novel. (For example, "'I can't be with you,' she breathed.")

Even a few seconds of this can release endorphins and break the chains of your fear and defensiveness. Having the liberty to hum, sing, yell, or even chant, tells your body that it's safe. That you're physically, emotionally, and spiritually safe, that you're loved, and that you have something to sing about. That you have a reason to be happy, if only because you don't have to believe that you're bad and wrong.
I'm not saying that this is better than other methods of banishing negativity. Only that it seems to work better for me right now. Right now, it doesn't always help, but most of the time it does. And there does seem to be something special about it. Give it a try, if you struggle with negativity and self-hate for any reason. Especially if you don't have time or patience for yoga and meditation. I hope this helps someone, like this method has helped me.

LGBTQ: Why You Maybe SHOULD Ask If Someone Is Gay Or Trans

This article on Everyday Feminism makes the excellent point that the onus should not be on queer people to disclose and fight for themselves, but on straight people to "invite them in" to society and their lives. But what is "inviting in," in concrete, practical terms? The author gives no such suggestions. How am I supposed to figure out exactly what to do, much less some straight person whose hobbies don't include reading about queer studies?

I disagree with the author on some things. I don't think it's always taboo to mention to someone that you suspect they are gay and love them no matter what. My mom asked me if I thought I was gay, while telling me she loved me no matter what, before I was "ready" to come out even to her, even with how close we are. And I figured that it would be easier to tell her now, than bring it up later. So I did. I said, "Okay. I think I like boys and girls."
"Okay," she said, then gave me an extra-long hug that night when I went to bed.
She helped me out, on two levels. And I wouldn't be where I'm at, with accepting myself (and buying the queer books I want to read, in front of her--which also helps me accept myself), if she hadn't.
Her asking made things easier for me. So depending on the person, relationship to you, and circumstances, asking might actually help, not hurt. My mom wasn't a stranger, and we had a very close relationship already. I knew she would still love me, even if I felt scared that telling her would be weird. And she didn't ask in front of anyone else.
But if you are going to do this, be sure to do it while expressing a lot of love.
(Another way to "invite them in" is to mention that you are an ally or you yourself are queer. One friend, defensive about why I tagged him in an inspirational post made by a gay Facebook page--I hadn't even thought about where it came from--admitted, "Actually, I think I might be bisexual too. But don't tell anyone!" when I mentioned my own bisexuality. But don't worry, it happened years ago, no one reading this blog could identify him, and I won't tell you his name.)

So depending on the situation, asking might actually help "invite them in." I am assuming that the author meant "inviting them in" to mean, in part, making it easier to be themselves, and express who they are if they wish. Unfortunately, there is no comment section on Everyday Feminism, that I saw. So I can't ask.
So instead of waiting for someone to come out of the closet, if you have a good relationship with them already, maybe knock on the door and ask, "Are you in there? You know it's safe to come out?" And invite them into the room with you. And if they don't come out yet, or aren't in there at all, that's okay too. Make sure they know that you'll be there for them no matter what.

Please Don't Tell Me How To Feel

When I was younger and trying desperately to be a good evangelical Christian girl, I was always told, or had my own religious ideas about, how I should feel about everything in my life. And it prevented me from actually being myself, and even knowing how I really felt and helping myself.

I remember, when I was thirteen in 2004, Massachusetts started issuing marriage licenses to gay and lesbian couples, bringing this issue of marriage equality into public consciousness. I saw a picture in the newspaper of two men sitting together at a protest against a "marriage protection" bill. One was holding a sign saying, "I want to marry the man I love."
That broke my heart. I remember thinking, "I wish I didn't have to take that away from him." I wished that God didn't force us to hurt others, and punish people for love. But I had to suppress those feelings.
Our neighbor "needed" my mom's, and my, help, nearly all the time--every day. I hated having to babysit and work in the fields, and I hated being around that loud, dramatic woman. But I had to be a "good Christian," and an obedient kid.
I had to be okay with the idea of getting martyred or raped on the mission field. I had to be okay with hours of tedious King James bible study, with constant mind-prayer, with trying to control my thoughts so much that I couldn't relax and go to sleep, with witnessing when I was an introvert, and with praying for an hour or more when I had no idea what to say. And I had to like everything that was Christian, just because it was Christian.
And through all this, I was supposed to feel close to God, but I didn't. And it's hard to love someone, when you're trying this hard to please them, with no results. But I had to feel love for God--and not just love, but joy in all my efforts to be near him. I could never change how I felt, and all I succeeded in doing was wondering--no, demanding of myself--what was wrong with me, and beating myself up about it constantly.
And the worst part was, I knew that if I shared my struggles with any Christian, I would again be told how to feel, and again hate myself for whatever was wrong with me--that I somehow couldn't measure up, or even relax and stop focusing on measuring up.

And now I am 26, free from the tyranny of evangelicalism, and fully accepted as bisexual by my parents and all my friends. But there are still others who tell me what to feel, sometimes with quite a bit of hostility. And, well, it feels bad. I'm not "supposed" to care, but it still feels very bad and sometimes makes me demand what is wrong with me.
Most of what is out there to watch or read either has no LGBT characters, or makes their stories tragic or fatal. Meanwhile most straight romances totally lack chemistry and feel contrived, cliche, and forced. And according to some "allies" on the internet, I'm not supposed to care.
I have been catcalled a few times, even in my small town, and even when with my mother. And I'm not supposed to care.
My animals sometimes die or go missing and never return. And according to my grandfather, they're "just animals," and I'm not supposed to care. (That one makes me the angriest, because he knows me, knows how much I love my babies, and he cares about me. It's sometimes hard to be gentle with him, and I avoid telling my extended family about these tragedies because I don't want to hear him say it. It hurts.)

But...I do care. About all of these things. And more. And telling me not to care, is not going to change that.
I have found that, if I tell myself not to feel something, instead of dealing with that feeling, it never gets resolved. I end up going around and around in my mind, asking what is wrong with me, feeling like there is something fundamentally wrong with me. That I'm "too sensitive" or "too negative"--instead of just tackling how I feel and feeling better! And I think I deserve to feel better, even if I have to feel bad first to help myself. And I think I would know how to help myself, after all I'm closest to myself.

Sometimes I think that my life consists too much in dealing with negative feelings. But when I let myself deal with them--for example, writing about them, even if it's so negative that I have to keep the writing to myself--I eventually feel so much better. And my life becomes happier. Maybe I have so much to deal with now, because I couldn't or didn't know how to deal with these things earlier.

Telling other people how to feel becomes especially problematic when it comes to feminist or minority issues. If you're not bothered by lack of good LGBT representation in media--whether you're queer or not--then good for you. But please don't tell others that they're wrong for being bothered by these things. If it's okay to feel love, why shouldn't it be okay to feel other emotions too? We deserve to use our energy building good lives for ourselves and being happy--not wondering what is wrong with us.
If you're a man and you don't see what the big deal is with catcalling, please still respect women enough not to do it. And if you're a woman who takes it as a compliment, please still respect that other women feel objectified and sometimes threatened.
And especially if you're white, please don't tell racial minorities not to be bothered by police killings and microaggressions. And I say that as a white person. (Unfortunately, that still carries more weight to some people, whether they consciously realize it or not.)

My mom finally understood that I needed to deal with bothersome emotions my own way, when I related my feelings to grief. (Unfortunately, we've lost a lot of animals and have that in common. But I'm glad she can understand.)
Like grief, sometimes you just have to deal with being hurt, scared, or anything else. It is intense, and scary, but then you can eventually feel better. I have a mostly very happy life, even with the dark times that come and go.
So please don't tell people to just get over things, or that they're not a big deal, or how they should feel about something. All doing this will do, is seriously mess people up--and that's if they care enough to even listen to you at all.

Harry Potter Fandom: Why Slytherin Is The Best House, And All Others Are Stupid Mudbloods (Even You, Ravenclaw)

 Note: In case you are put off by this, I am about to be very condescending about the Hogwarts houses. I'm a Slytherin, what did you expect? It's not easy to forget that you're superior in every way.

A friend of mine recently posted a photo of himself on Facebook, saying that he was just so cool.
"You finally joined Slytherin!" I commented. "Welcome, brother, to the House of Epic Evilness."
This guy is a proud Gryffindor (even though we all know that should be an oxymoron), so he asked why I thought he had joined Slytherin.
"Because you said you were cool, duh!" I answered.
"Still a Gryffindor," he replied, "Sorry to disappoint."
And he calls himself a self-respecting supervillain. Pathetic.

There are many myths involving Slytherin House, and so I thought I would dispel some of them for you ignorant Muggles. First of all, all other houses are just stupid--even Ravenclaw, the "smart" house. Here are the reasons why. I will go house by house:
Gryffindor is supposed to be the brave house, and yet it is far more useful to overcome your fears than to try not to feel them--to feel fear, and to do it anyway. By focusing on bravery instead of courage--feeling fear and doing it anyway--they are unintentionally saying that many children are unworthy of their house, which is especially damaging because they are seen as the good house, and the one at the center of the action in the Harry Potter series.
Ravenclaw is supposed to be the smart house. But studies have shown that when praised for being smart, children's focus is on looking smart, not on challenging themselves. And so they will not attempt tasks they do not think they can perfect the first time. Ravenclaws must answer a riddle before being let in to their dorms, but if they can't, how are they to find out the answer? Are they referred to an appropriate place to look in the library, to better themselves? Not from what I've seen. If you can't answer it, and no one will answer it for you, you're effectively banished, presumably to the "dumber" houses.
By focusing on being smart, instead of growth and learning, Ravenclaw House gives the impression that hard work, especially in intellectual pursuits, is either not necessary, or does not pay off. So kids end up both lazy and easily discouraged when they are not good at something right away.
Which brings us to Hufflepuff, the "hardworking" house. There is nothing wrong with working hard--but to what end? What are they working hard for? If it is academic pursuits, then why is Ravenclaw considered the smart house? Hufflepuff is the one that should have had riddles at its door. Then we would be teaching kids that smarts and hard work go hand in hand.
But that brings up the question, what is their reward for all this hard work? Which brings me to...

Slytherin. The ambitious house. The house that is constantly being told to curb the thing it is most famous for. The house that is a cautionary tale for the houses about ambition. What other house is told not to be itself "too much"?
The other houses could do with their own caveats and cautionary tales. It is precisely these cautionary tales which make us possibly better human beings.

So that is why all of the other houses are problematic. For my second major point, there is no such thing as a Slytherclaw, or a Gryffirin, or a Slytherpuff--the "combined houses". The other houses may combine their defects, but we are pureblood witches and wizards--we don't mix well with others. You can't be half awesome. It's all or nothing.

Finally, even our villains are better. When we become evil, we become Voldemort. When Gryffindors, the "good" house, become villains, they become Peter Pettigrew. We turn into the Dark Lord Who Must Not Be Named. They turn into a disgusting filthy rat.
(And all you people who have pet rats, don't get offended yet. This rat in particular was disgusting, filthy, and pathetic. Even the little Gryffindor blood traitor who was too poor for any other pet hated him. This is your lot in life if you don't time your inevitable corruption so that you're in the only proper house for it.)

And don't forget the invaluable contributions of Severus Snape. Who could do more good than someone who is perceived as bad? Without his spying, Voldemort would never have been defeated. We don't half-ass anything--when we're good, we're very good, and when we're bad, we're very bad. In a way, we're more hardworking than the Hufflepuffs. Ambition motivates you to make an effort, and can also banish fear and make you come up with clever strategies to get to your goals. We embody the good traits of all the other houses.
So we are both better good guys, and better bad guys--always. 

Some Christians Think We Want To Kill Them

I recently came across the Christian Harry Potter fan fiction, Hogwarts School of Prayer and Miracles. (It is online, freely available, and short, and I have a slow-ish computer and don't feel like linking to it.) There is so much wrong with the writing, and even more troubling things about the theology of it.
I thought at first that it was just bad writing, rather harmless, but then I realized just how dangerous this story really was. In the story, Voldemort is an atheist who wants to outlaw Christianity. Hermione is afraid, and cries, "I don't like lions!"
I remembered that because apparently a member of Gryffindor House doesn't like lions. You can probably guess what the Gryffindor symbol is, if you don't already know. And Gryffindor in this story represents "True Christians" (registered trademark). (Although Hermione, in the fan fiction, has a kitten on her hat instead of a lion, because apparently there is no such thing as lionesses, and I guess all the lions are gay. I don't think the author thought through the implications of denying this mighty symbol of Christ to Christian women. If I suspected she was more thoughtful, I would have assumed lionesses were objectionable because they were females and provided for the Pride. But in any case, we should have known Aslan was in the closet.)

But Hermione's comment makes me wonder: Does the author think that that's what atheists want to do--feed them to the lions? I was on atheist forums for a while a few years ago, and still read stuff written by atheists such as Libby Anne of the blog Love, Joy, Feminism (though she doesn't really talk about atheism specifically very often).
But even when I explored the more anti-religion aspects of atheist media, and even when some people were mocking religion and Christians, I have never seen anyone even joke about feeding Christians to lions. If some people do that (and I'm sure there are some, since rape jokes also exist), they're not trying to make it legal to actually do it. (Ironically, there were people trying to make it legal to kill gay people--not only in Uganda, but in California. And I'm too lazy and don't want to upset myself by linking to it.)
But no bills have been introduced to make it legal to kill Christians. Not even from LGBT people, which I'm sure the author thinks just as bad or worse than atheists.

How many conservative Christians think that the days of the lions will soon return? My own family has been paranoid of this happening, and I live in Oregon, not the Bible Belt. A great aunt euphemistically said, "I think things will just get harder and harder."
My uncle has said that Obama was setting himself up as God, and that the government would soon want chips implanted to track people. "But not the gay couple down the street," he added bitterly. I'm not sure there was a gay couple down the street, or if the phrase was a rhetorical device. Either way, he's eventually going to find out that that's good news for me. Apparently I don't have to choose between keeping my soul or my head.
(This was a few years ago, and I recently worked up the courage to tell him that I was afraid of him as a child. He responded surprisingly well, and hasn't said homophobic things around me in a while, so he may or may not have changed in his hostility.)
 Comedian Cody Melcher, in his podcast about strange books, has said what my own experience has proven too: That Christians were also afraid after the marriage equality ruling of 2015. He also says that Christianity as a religion relies on the concept of persecution, that they tell themselves they are the underdogs even when they are in power, and that that is also how they gain power. This is a particularly fascinating episode, if you can stand to hear Melcher and his guests talk about the homophobia in the book they are reviewing (Melcher and guests are all gay):

This is the episode reviewing Counterfeiting The Rainbow by Beverly Rachel, and just to warn you, it is an hour and a half long.

Evangelical Christians think atheists and gays want to kill them. Gays, and maybe atheists (I'm not sure), think that Christians want to kill them--indeed, some do (and just because they're not "true Christians" doesn't mean they're not trying to kill us in the name of Christ).
So we have two groups who are afraid of each other. They can't show compassion to us and give us rights, because they're too scared. And we can't overlook what they're doing to us (out of fear), because it affects our lives. We have to take our rights that they won't give, which scares them even more. What a sad state of the world.
And ironically, anything I say to comfort my group--that their numbers are shrinking, especially among young people, for example--will only strike fear in the other group. So I will leave it at that. Fortunately for them, I have not heard talk of political revenge on my side. If we are vigilant and current trends keep up, I do think things will very slowly, over decades (two steps forward, one step back), get better and better for LGBT people. I believe we will have progress, if we vote, even if it's all-too-frustratingly slow and halting. And I don't think evangelicals will be in danger because of it.

Complimentarianism's Fatal Flaw: The "Natural Laws" That We Have To Impose

I recently came across a Christian Harry Potter fan fiction, Hogwarts School of Prayer and Miracles. (I'm too lazy to link it. You can easily look it up online. It has only fourteen chapters, which are only about one page long.)
Other than being insulting to every other type of Christian than herself, possessing terrible grammar even though she condemns bad grammar and spelling in the story, the characters not being realistic, how prayer works not being realistic, getting details of the Harry Potter universe very wrong, and little rants which make you wonder if there's supposed to be a narrator when there's not...
The author is really into gender roles. All the good Christian women and girls wear pink dresses, cry demurely, and are not very brave. (Like being brave is a sin for a woman?) Hermione, who is a Christian all her life, has to be comforted by Harry, who got saved literally a few hours ago. (But could mysteriously quote the bible, complete with chapter and verse, seconds after Hagrid helps him get saved.)

I was never taught that I had to wear a dress and act emotionally weaker than I felt, in order to be good or righteous. And I'm so glad. I have enough to deal with already.
But this story got me to thinking...if men and women are so different and complementary, why does one have to submit to the other? Wouldn't a couple agree on everything, or easily come up with a solution in which both are happy?
Or alternately, why does one partner have to try so hard, to submit to the other? Why isn't submission so easy, if it's natural to women? Wouldn't the average women not have preferences at all, and just be happy doing whatever the husband wants? (Without having to work so hard at trying to be this way, that is. There would be no pain in submission at all.) In a world where men and women really complimented each other perfectly, as God designed, there would be no need for the likes of Michael and Debbie Pearle (fundamentalist "family" gurus whose books describe abusive behavior on his part, and for both of them towards their children--I have read excellent review series of them by Libby Anne of the blog Love, Joy, Feminism, and Samantha Field of the blog...Samantha Field.)

And most might say that it's our sinful nature or the devil who makes submission hard. But if God designed women for submission, wouldn't we take fulfillment in submitting to our husbands or fathers, without being told to? Why is there a need for books telling women and girls to take joy in submitting? If gender roles are so natural, why do we have to enforce them?
Just like homosexuality is called unnatural, and yet to many people--and animals--heterosexuality is unnatural. Complimentarianism (if I'm spelling that right, because apparently it's a sin if I spell it wrong) and compulsory straightness both say, "Be yourself--but not too much! Our imposed standards are much more natural to you than your natural state."
I am very grateful not to be caught up in either belief system. There are so many more benefits to freedom than wearing pants. There are even more benefits than potentially falling in love or doing what I want. I don't have to try to be anything. I can just fully be myself--accept myself--and that is the best gift that life could ever give me.

Why I Talk So Much Here About Being Bisexual

I feel sometimes like I talk "too much" about being bisexual on my blog, though it may be just my own insecurities. And I may be a little obsessive about it right now, because I only had an inkling three years ago--until then I had thought I was straight. And by "inkling" I mean I had an instant crush on another girl, the same way I had had instant crushes on some guys. She was a stranger, but she was just that good-looking, to me at least. So that was a very frightening experience, because I had never thought of myself having that side before, and now here it was, so obvious it was practically slapping me in the face.
I also recently discovered that I could find cheap queer books online, and so for the first time in my life, I can dive into that subject like I have never been able to before. I love it! It is so hard to find queer books where I live, much less find them cheaply or find good ones. I hardly even care about being a "prepper" for potential personal hard times anymore, except when it comes to hoarding good (queer and neutral) books, so there goes another subject I used to write regularly about.

I talk about being bisexual a lot here. But that's partly because almost all of my interesting (to me) thoughts relate to it or touch on it, at least at this point in my life.
But I have a whole life, too. I get up and feed my chickens just like anyone else. I've recently found a podcast on Youtube, Tomefoolery, that talks about very strange books. (And yes, the host, Cody Melcher, is gay, but gay issues specifically don't come up very often in the show. And it still has some interesting episodes.) I really like to go through my things and get rid of some of them, to the point that most people would probably think that's strange. I just got done with tax season as a tax preparer, and that was very hard on an introvert like me.
But all of these other things that make up my life don't make me say, "So that's why some gay men don't like feminine men--misogyny is part of it! It's considered dishonorable for men to be like women," and, "So that's why that other book said that raids on gay bars considerably increased in the fifties--after the war, there was pressure on everyone to get married and have children--the baby boom!"
I make so many discoveries when reading about queer stuff. And I may go into these subjects more in-depth later.
But I guess my blog is mostly a gay blog for now. I would feel a little better about that if it had a gay title, but then that would constrain me to queer subjects, which I also don't want. Straight people may not realize it, but there are a lot things about being bisexual/queer that I find fascinating. Maybe they're not as interesting if one is straight, but there's still an audience for these themes. I guess I'll just have to find the right audience, if I don't have it already.
So please be warned, this blog is very gay. Thank you. :)

Minimalism: How Many Is Too Many Books?

I saw someone online mention that her favorite color as a kid was "rainbow," and now it's "galaxy." So I guess she just added black. I mentioned that I had my Lesbrary arranged by color, in one big rainbow, and that it looked beautiful and she should try it. "No," she protested, "I have thousands of books. I couldn't find anything!"
That's a lot of books. And I can understand it too. Books are especially hard to get rid of. They contain stories or information that you're afraid you'll need or want someday. But if you're anything like me, too many books can be overwhelming. More than with things or clothes, my books function in my mind as a "to-do" list. They "expect" to be read, and I feel bad for them when they're not.

I don't really buy stuff anymore. I go online and buy cheap books. They take almost a month to get to me, but the price is right. I have to really want it, to pay more than four dollars for a book.
My goal used to be to have a majority of LGBT-themed books in my library (mostly nonfiction), and I did not feel at ease until I managed it. If I was going to be a minority in society, having to go to work and see hundreds of straight couples over a tax season, I wanted my books to be majority gay. I would never have thought of getting rid of even one gay book. If society collapsed or we lost power or I didn't have spending money, I wanted access to many gay books.
But now the majority of my books are homosexual, and a few are transgender. (Yes, I think of books as attracted to other books or transitioning to other genders. Some people name and assign genders to their phones and computers, I do this. It's just for fun.) But joking aside, most of my books are about LGBT subjects. I try to avoid books about discrimination and violence, though. I want books that are positive, helpful, and gay.
But now I get rid of LGBT books. Just the ones that I don't like or that I don't want to read again. I'm able to get rid of LGBT books, because I have so many other LGBT books. This is what happens when you have enough of your favorite category of books. You become more comfortable letting go of the boring or less helpful ones, because you have plenty of others.
I have about 150 to 175 books at any one time, though I am always getting new ones and getting rid of old ones, so it's hard to keep track. I used to think I wanted thousands of books, but now I have plenty of my favorite categories, so I don't need that many.
I've also realized that I would rather read my favorite stories over and over, like Timekeeper by Tara Sim and Dreadnought by April Daniels, than to read something new but boring. So the boring fiction goes. Sometimes I don't even finish it. I don't have to keep things just because they are LGBT fiction. It has to have something more also, like science fiction or fantasy themes.
 And I've learned that you become faster at getting rid of books, when you have other books that you love. When you have your own idea of enough favorite books, you become more comfortable throwing out the others. You also become better at realizing quickly that you don't like a book. (I used to write down the books I got rid of, to make it easier to find them if I wanted them back. I don't feel I have to do that very much now, but this idea can help you start to part with your less-favorite books.)

You don't need stuff when you have enough books that you love. Shopping would take money away from books, and you can't read clothes. I wonder how many people shop because they're bored--because they don't have their favorite topic as intellectual stimulation.
So many people think that they have to have a variety of different topics, in order to have an interesting library or to keep their own interest. But there is so much variety of subjects within any given category. And some people are "divers," meaning that they want to know all they can about one topic, before they can move on--if they ever lose interest in the first place. (This idea comes from Barbara Sher's I Can Do Anything (If Only I Knew What It Was)). You may need most of your library to be on one topic, not many!
I think being a "diver" is more common than most people realize. For me, my diving subject is LGBT studies. For my mom, it's natural health, and natural health for animals. I once asked her why she didn't want books that were more fun. She said that reading about health, for her, was fun.
For my dad, it's guns and knives and other things having to do with survival in the woods or in/after any apocalypse. Both my parents have had books on these subjects ever since I can remember, and both of them now also read extensively online about their chosen subject. This may be where I get my obsessiveness from, but this is also what makes me happy--focusing on one thing for years or more at a time.
And it may be the same way with you. What is your passion with regard to books and learning? What is the one book you've been most excited to come across in your life--and what did it talk about? Thinking about this may actually change your life. It has for me.