1. What is your current obsession?

Trying to figure out if "queer" and "marriage" are--or should be--mutually exclusive. I never thought about it before I read a fascinating article critiquing marriage from a feminist perspective that questioned whether queers--or any progressive, really--should buy into marriage. Considering marriage is a fundamentally conservative institution that originated as a means to transport a woman as property from one family to the next, I'm not so sure. I still support the fight for gay marriage, though--if straights can marry, why the fuck can't everyone? Just think we need to examine marriage a little bit more closely and see if we can queer it from the inside. That would be AWESOME.

2. What is your weirdest obsession?

FAT BEBEHS. Wanting children, especially fat babies, totally should contradict my espousal of feminism. And yet, I choose to believe that it doesn't. I do, and always will, love fat bebehs.

3. What do you see outside your window?

The cripplingly white stretch of fabric that's the window shade. It' terrifying.

4. What is your favourite colour?

Yellow. Always yellow. I can't dominate yellow.

5. What is your weakness?

If I told you, you'd have to kill me. Or you'd be able to, anyway. You think Achilles TOLD everyone about his heel?

Okay, I'll bite. I'm too proud. I crumble when anyone or anything insinuates I may not be as smart as I think I am.

6. What animal would you be?

I think that's pretty obvious to anyone who knows me, so I'll just not say it.

7. What would you like to learn how to do?

Speak Danish, for fuck's sake!

8. What do you want to never happen in life?

I don't want Thomas or Maddie or my parents taken away from me in some horrible accident. That would break me. Something sudden, and too soon.

9. What is on your bedside table?

Real Simple magazine (I still can't STAND the grammatical error in that title), my bio textbook, and my alarm clock. And the biggest crate of vitamins you've ever seen in your life.
10. What's the last thing you bought?

11. What do you think about the person that tagged you?

BITCH.

No, she's one of my favorite people in the world and my best friend. I guess we're both awesome bitches, though. I mean, really.

12. What was your favourite children's book?

Harry Potter. Which is sort of embarrasing now, because it's not great literature. But it was my favorite.

13. Who do you want to meet in person?

Joan Jett, Frida Kahlo, Gloria Steinem.

14. What did you want to be as a child?

A writer/singer/ballerina.

15. What did you dream about last night?

Oh fuck that shit was messed up. There were all these different countries I kept flying to in hot air balloons, and it was the victorian times, and I landed in an ancient Aztec garden--which was also a university?

16. Which do you prefer, day or night?

Night. I'm by myself, I can do whatever I want, and it's like time stops because there are no interruptions.

17. What's your favourite piece of clothing in your closet?

My vintage cowboy boots I got for $3 at Goodwill. Most comfortable shoes that aren't sneakers I've ever bought.

18. What's your plan for tomorrow?

My dream plan would be to write a novel and get a job at Bitch magazine. But I'll more likely end up going to class and reading Jezebel.

19. What would you like to get your hands on right now?

THOMAS. I shouldn't say any more or I won't be able to stop myself.

20. What is your must have of the moment?

Sleep, the must have of every moment of my day.

21. What's your favourite tea flavour?

Jasmine white tea from the royal tea shop in Copenhagen.

22. If you could go anywhere is the world right now, where would you go?

To Denmark. If I wasn't legally prohibited from entering the country until July, I would be on a plane SO FAST.

Fish in Aquariums Apparently a Shock to Some

I was in the library yesterday, and I passed a stack of New York Times newspapers. The science section was posed unflatteringly on top, as though it had been dropped from a great height, possibly by a humanities-minded student. The headline said, "Are Aquariums Getting Too Lifelike?"

I stopped. I was on my way to class, and I stopped, because these words pierced my brain with a sentiment that cannot be ignored. The sentiment, of course, being WHAT THE FUCK?!?

TOO LIFELIKE. And they're saying this about a place that, um, by definition, is populated by MARINE LIFE.

Only one conclusion can be drawn--they want to KILL our FISH! Oh my GOD! MY FREEEEEDOMSSSSS!

Why I'm a Feminist--gay rights edition

Not that anyone's still reading this blog, but I thought I'd blog a bit about a question I get asked a lot. Why are you a feminist?

It appears that most people think we're living in a post-feminist world. Take a look at the writings I've compiled the past few days from the internet (I know, I know, where only nice things are said and all that) and tell me if you still think that's true.

The wonderful people at The Daily What posted this hilarious satire on the gay marriage debate. Read it, and then keep scrolling for some of the...informative comments it received.

12 Reasons Why Gay Marriage Should Be Illegal

1. Homosexuality is not natural, much like eyeglasses, polyester, and birth control.

2. Heterosexual marriages are valid because they produce children. Infertile couples and old people can’t legally get married because the world needs more children.

3. Obviously, gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.

4. Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage is allowed, since Britney Spears’ 55-hour just-for-fun marriage was meaningful.

5. Heterosexual marriage has been around a long time and hasn’t changed at all; women are property, blacks can’t marry whites, and divorce is illegal.

6. Gay marriage should be decided by people, not the courts, because the majority-elected legislatures, not courts, have historically protected the rights of the minorities.

7. Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That’s why we have only one religion in America.

8. Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.

9. Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.

10. Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That’s why single parents are forbidden to raise children.

11. Gay marriage will change the foundation of society. Heterosexual marriage has been around for a long time, and we could never adapt to new social norms because we haven’t adapted to things like cars or longer life-spans.

12. Civil unions, providing most of the same benefits as marriage with a different name are better, because a “separate but equal” institution is always constitutional. Separate schools for African-Americans worked just as well as separate marriages for gays and lesbians will.

Comments:

Inpachi
God i just dont get what is so bad about renaming it to something that isnt marriage.. The fact of the matter is Marriage is a primarily RELIGIOUS THING the Legal Benifits are just a +! If your not religious why do you NEED SO BADLY to call it marriage? In my opinion gays are going through all this crap just because they can.. The same way Blacks parade around saying "were not equal" blablabal but in reality they just wanna be more than equal they wanna be higher up than any other race in the US.. And you know they kill Gays in other country's? I dare for the gays in the US to go to another country and try what they do here! I bet they wont last 2 days! Just because America is Free people try abuse it.. To further there own stupid ideals.. Then again America sucks now anyways.. SO screw it do what you want with this lifeless corpse we call a country..

I have nothing against gays i just dont like it in the ass.. So i prefer to not take it in the ass.. Its as simple as that.. And i disagree with the whole babys thing.. I think we outta start killing each other more.. Look at the global population problem.. And its all because of medical advancement..

Jamaal
After rereading inpachi's post I realized I glazed over his/her "black people" comment. Pardon me. I still wouldn't say that was racist though. He/she was pointing out a common occurence that some, if not most, African Americans want "extra unearned" equality. Cough, cough reparations, cough... Although we already all are equal, even to the point that it goes beyond being equal, some want more. I can't remember the last time a White American Scholarship fund award was given to a white high school student. I also can't recall what Jesse Jackson or Al Sharpton are doing to help the N.A.A.W.P..
You know the national association for the advancement of white people. Of course that would be racist, an organization to help out white people. For an eye opener from a smart black man on what I'm getting at, try Googling Bill Cosby:We Cannot Blame the White People any Longer.

I believe inpachi was on to something he/she just didn't express it properly. White people in the U.S., especially white males, are demonized these days too much.

EDITOR'S NOTE: You read that right. White males are demonized way too much. Poor white men, all those privileges must be exhausting!

(After a woman's insightful comment about how beastiality does not equal gay sex)

Don't be so smug, bitch. Judging by your overbearing attitude here you don't have long with him [Ed: she mentioned her husband]. If he hasn't figured it out by now, he will soon. You will soon become one of the divorce statistics all the fag lovers in here whine about.

I pointed out that he felt threatened, and the woman said,

I agree with Kat--you're clearly threatened by the idea of an intelligent woman, much less a straight woman who sides with the queers you smear, so you resort to silly little ad hominem attacks in order to bolster your precious ego.

He replied--
Again....Don't flatter yourself. You yourself saying: "The idea of an intelligent woman" = pretentious bitch. An extensive vocabulary doesn't equate intelligence. That's only a piece of the puzzle. Your (principle of what's right or wrong)puzzle pieces are clearly lacking. You are so outwardly liberal that it's clear who you voted for last year. Nice intelligent vote for that guy. Your kind are what's running this Country into the dirt. Of course by dirt I mean a no respect, immoral, unruly, pile of steaming shit.

Battle of wits? Is that what you call defending the actions of people who succumb to their lusts of immoral behavior?

I said--

Lust of immoral behavior? What you've posted clearly displays YOUR lust for immoral behavior--attacking the RIGHTS of a group of people who deserve to have them. If anyone should be prevented from getting married, it's people like you, with your fucking pretentious morality bullshit. If you've read the constitution--hell, if you've taken a history class--you should know that this country was founded on freedom.

Freedom to say whatever you want, and to do whatever you want, as long as it doesn't harm others. That's kinda what the first amendment is about. Christianity is not our national religion. We don't have a national moral code separate from the law.

It's conservatives like you who are running this country into the ground--I bet you're one of those tea party idiots. Well, if you really want this country to live up to the freedom it supposedly stands for, don't force YOUR morals on the rest of us. INDIVIDUAL RIGHTS. Mean anything? Gay people are not harming you. Any self-respecting queer wouldn't come near you, you sack of shit.

Waiting for him to reply. Funny, I have yet to hear any COMPELLING evidence as to why gay marriage shouldn't be allowed.

For the whole list, and comments, click here.

Be sure to look for the guy who stole my username and is posing as me to talk about chicken sex.

Muhlenberg's Underground Music Scene

Just got back from a rockin' evening at The Red Door. Saw a musical act that was absolutely inspirational. You know those times when you're going along, kind of wanting to do SOMETHING but not really putting much effort into it, and then something or someone HITS you and you KNOW, just KNOW that you're jumping alive and into something and never going back?

Well, I got all that tonight. From a hip-hop collective.

Dan McGee, AKA Albert Rhymestein, and Ryan Acquaotta took the stage as hip-hop duo Masters of the Universe. They were backed up by the fantastic DJ Loose (Pat Cunning). The duo are alumni of Muhlenberg College, and they are going places.

It's about time hip hop met politically-conscious slam poetry, and these guys blend the traditions as though they had never been apart. They shout about gay rights, multiculturalism, art, and peace. They're ecstatic and furious, sometimes simultaneously. It was an invigorating performance, and I encourage you to check them out here and here, where you can check out their song"Elder Blossoms".

I suppose that, while we're on the topic of Muhlenberg bands, I should give a shout out to my fellow film studies major Hugh Trimble and his band Neighbor Poem, which sounds like a cross between Ra Ra Riot and Crosby, Stills, and Nash. I recommend listening to "Adam Stain".

So, I guess I'm going to get my ass moving. Who knows, maybe I'll start rapping myself. That would be...unexpected.

Five Paragraphs

I always capitalize Writer’s Block. It’s just out of respect. You would think that the master craftsmen of the literary vernacular could have come up with something more suitable. Writer’s Block doesn’t even begin to cover it. Try Writer’s Nausea, or Writer’s Sense of Inevitable Doom. A block is the red wooden cube I selected to crown my Lego castle when I was nine. A block is an engorged mucus blob in your nasal passages. A block is mundane.

I can’t remember the point of entry. There was a before, and there was an after. In the before, I thought Writer’s Block was the dull sinewy ache I felt after practicing my cursive in second grade. Maybe Writer’s Block is like driving on US Route 684—you don’t remember how you got there, and you sure as hell don’t know how you’re going to exit to the left in the next 500 feet. Before, writing was just something I did. I wrote before I knew what writing was. One day, some day, I found out there were rules. I think it was the sandwich model, which later turned out to be the five paragraph essay. We were introduced to our new galactic overlord, the thesis statement. And then I guess it was over.

Wrapped up in this wet blanket was the idea that I was just doing it wrong. What I might have been doing wrong, I wasn’t entirely sure. My essays and papers and stories were met with good grades even after the birth of the five paragraph military dictatorship. Nevertheless, I was curious as to just what kind of alchemy was going on behind the closed screens of my classmates’ laptops. How many of them wrote an outline? Who knew their character arcs prior to the first draft? What is a character arc? Writing couldn’t just be watching my fingers play freestyle DDR for two to four hours as my paper appeared word by word in Times New Roman.

In order to accommodate longer written works, my writing style shifted in college. My paper ideas leaked all over my notebooks. It was a form of planning, and it was about as organized as my dorm room in the middle of move-in. The first paper forced its way out of me when, after several nights of panic and self-doubt, I threw down a few sentences as gingerly as if I were walking along a precipice. There it was, the thesis. The film Now, Voyager, which purports to reveal a more authentic woman in Charlotte Vale after her makeover, falls instead into regressive consumerist propaganda while reaffirming the aspirations of her male compatriot. The next paragraph was a bit more natural, and then it was like I had broken through a wall. I was writing about the ivory boxes Charlotte carved, and how they were manifestations of her authority and authenticity. I went into a writing trance, strung along by a growing euphoria I couldn’t begin to understand. The paper finished itself.

Writing has, since then, been one part blissful reward and three parts pure, unadulterated agony, each impossible to forsee. I am convinced that the ‘creative’ in creative writing is in fact a euphemism for the lengths I’ll go to make the words perform up to assignment standards. And I may be delusional—and I think you must be if you do this sort of thing for fun—but I’m not ready to give up. I don’t want to think about where I would reroute the buckets of energy I’m throwing at my Writer’s Block. Besides, Writer’s Block, once neglected, becomes lowercase writer’s block. And no one wants a neurosis with an inferiority complex.

The Flame

Being at home during the holidays is an exercise in futility. My days disappear in slipped stitches of late mornings and unscheduled afternoons. You know how you can never do anything after one PM on those days, and when you get up at eleven, it's already too late. I'm hardly lacking in things to do; on the contrary, I should be hard at work on a screenplay this very minute, or writing thank-you notes, or writing a condolence card for one of my favorite professors. Instead, I spend the morning reading, the afternoon lounging, and the evening watching movies. I drape myself over the day. In this way, I am always out of time. I am too busy to see friends, to work on the second issue of my film magazine, or to write angry letters to the editor about how much I hate Robert P. George.

I want to read each delectable book on my shelf at the same time, so I end up reading nothing but Jezebel and facebook. It's pathetic. My Danish teacher told me, "Americans just want everything at ONCE, don't you?" She's right. And by virtue of my desire to digest without chewing first, I end up learning nothing except how fast the holidays can go. If I am to keep my promise to myself and my readers--that is, my promise of WORKING to support basic human rights and progressive values--I really have to--

I was about to write "stop talking and DO something." But that's not entirely true. My talking by way of writing is meaningful in some respects. I hope that it has inspired someone out there to start talking, too.

Forgive the soapbox. I suspect I'll soon return to my standard writing voice, albeit with more of a conscious motive. Comments, as always, are welcome, along with suggestions.

Spark

Okay, I'm in a terrible mood right now. Know why? Because I keep reading things about my country that would just never fly in Denmark. Two women who are married in California have to suffer through a status shift every time they cross state lines. Denmark was the first nation to legalize gay marriage, in 1989. Then I read about some women bloggers chastising new mothers for not spending enough time with their children when they KNOW that the US doesn't mandate maternity leave, nevermind paid maternity leave. Denmark does.

The kicker was reading an old New York Times Magazine article on Robert P. George, "a Princeton University professor of jurisprudence and a Roman Catholic who is this country's most influential conservative Christian thinker", according to the magazine. He's the reason stem-cell research is still illegal. He's the reason my gay friends can't get married. I'm sure if it were 1864, he'd be against the black vote as well. FUCK that. I'm sorry. I'm just sickened more and more by the egregious civil rights abuses passed off as "moral codes" in this supposedly free country. Glenn Beck, Karl Rove, and Antonin Scalia, three of the world's most horrible human beings, are big fans of his.

I hate stupid conservatives. But I hate smart ones even more, because really, they should know better--and likely do, which infuriates me as I see them using their influence (with the help of buzzwords like "socialist", "traditional marriage" and "Un-American") to draw a fevered following. It's disgusting. It's immoral, and I won't stand for it any longer. Let's all do what we do best and channel our energies into action. If you write, write progressively. If you make art, paint progressively. Work loudly, or work quietly, but please please PLEASE work.