Books

An incredibly long time since I've posted anything here. Being back in the US makes it difficult to make internationally-themed observations, and I've been too damn busy for the past few months to make posts. But I'm back on, in the name of literature, because I started reading a new book that criticizes one of my favorite books, and this is naturally something that interests me enough to write about.

Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides is quite possibly one of my favorite books ever. An intersexed protagonist, an adventurous journey, the stories of multiple generations in a family woven together, an immigration tale...I thought it was a masterpiece when I first read it, and I gave copies to several people before coming out to them, if I wasn't entirely sure how they would react. Middlesex is in many ways the book I want to write and the book I wish I'd written. Imagine my surprise, reading another gender-related book, to find that my esteem was not universal.

I've just started reading Intersex (for lack of a better word), which I had picked up months ago when Lambda Rising closed (depriving DC of its resident gay bookstore and leaving a hole in the pattern of my wanderings around Dupont Circle). The book is set up as a set of mini-stories and essays, and one of the first ones has to do with Middlesex.

She opens by saying:

"People keep asking me about Jeffrey Eugenides' new novel Middlesex because the main character is considered a hermaphrodite and so am I. But really, neither of us are. Outside of myth, there are no hermaphrodites. It is physiologically impossible to be both fully male and fully female."

I was a bit confused by this opening. Last I checked, "hermaphrodite" meant possessing the external sex characteristics of both genders, to a greater or lesser degree. I checked with the online dictionary, and found these definitions.

hermaphrodite her·maph·ro·dite (hər-māf'rə-dīt')
n.
An individual having the reproductive organs and many of the secondary sex characteristics of both sexes.


her·maph·ro·dite
   /hɜrˈmæfrəˌdaɪt/ Show Spelled[hur-maf-ruh-dahyt]–noun
1.an individual in which reproductive organs of both sexes are present. Compare pseudohermaphrodite.
2.Biology . an organism, as an earthworm or plant, having normally both the male and female organs of generation.
3.a person or thing in which two opposite qualities are combined.


Nothing in those definitions indicates that one would have to be "fully" both genders to fall into the category of "hermaphrodite." But this is a dictionary, and not even a medical one, and WebMD was remarkably silent on the subject. But clearly the word has non-dictionary revealed subtext, or the author wouldn't be so "fuming and hot with shame as [Eugenides] called me and people I love hermaphrodites."

I admit, I hadn't realized that the term was offensive until I read that. To me it had always been a medical term, distinguished from the term intersex as indicating morphology, rather than hormones or genetics. Creating further complication, there are people who actually do identify with the term hermaphrodite in its medical sense, as indicated by this short page on "Being a True Hermaphrodite."

The author of Intersex accuses Eugenides of having "never actually talked to an intersex person before he published that book," and I don't know if that's actually true or not. She further accuses him of "being yet one more person profiting off the selling of intersex people as freaks of nature." I would disagree with that statement. When I read Middlesex, I thought that Eugenides did an excellent job of making Cal the protagonist three-dimensional and human, not a freak at all. But then, I'm not intersexed, so what do I know? Maybe I'm just one more ignorant person projecting my views onto the world. Or maybe the real anger in the essay has less to do with Middlesex as a book, and more to do with the fact that the book that drew attention to the intersex population was written by a normal heterosexual male.

The main thing this essay teaches me is that I need to be careful. In my own writing, I'm working on a story with a transgendered protagonist. I don't want it to be said that I'm "exoticizing" gender variance. Truth be told, I don't find it that exotic. Interesting, yes. Exotic, no. I've had friends and acquaintances all over the gender continuum, enough to know that, aside from their relation to the binary, they're people like any others. But again, because I'm not trans myself, there's always that danger, in the event of my writing becoming successful, that I'll be seen as speaking for or about a population that I don't actually belong to. If and when I ever finish this particular project, I fully plan to run it by my trans friends, to make sure that it passes muster. But I still have to wonder if, someday down the line, someone will write a similarly angry piece about my writing, because I had the audacity to write something that they had not yet dared.

An Amazing Project

A month or so ago, I found out that there's a new version of Our Bodies, Our Selves in the works, through their blog. They wanted to be sure that they included some LGBT perspective, so I filled out their questionnaire. I figured I should do my part to have gay and genderqueer women represented in the puberty/women's health bible.

Then I found this. Awesomeness upon awesomeness. It's a resource guide of the Our Bodies, Our Selves variety, put together by a completely different team of people, and focused completely on trans and genderqueer issues. Identity, body stuff, legal stuff, it will all be in there. And that's amazing. If I had found a book like that at a library when I was fifteen it probably would have clarified a lot of things for me. I'm so happy that someone is finally putting something like this together. I added my two cents to the survey, and I'll probably submit cameos to
a few of the chapters as well.

The fact that a book like this can even be conceived is a sign that genderqueer people are actually beginning to be recognized as people now. The demographic is recognizable and extant and has purchasing power. This makes me incredibly glad.

Standards of Education

In Texas, a conservative constituent has succeed in passing a new set of standards for education, according to the Huffington Post. This isn't the usual evolution vs creationism debate. It actually avoids biology, as near as I can tell. This one focuses on history, economics, and sociology.

Some gems? The religious backgrounds of the Founding Fathers will be addressed, but not the reasons behind the separation of church and state. Kids will be required to learn about John Calvin, but not Thomas Jefferson. And they will also be required to learn that the free market economy works best without government interference.

Now, I have no problem with talking about the faith of the Founding Fathers. Certainly many of them had deeply held religious beliefs. But they also, had strong philosophical beliefs founded in the ideas of the Enlightenment. These philosophies about the rights of men and about individual freedom of conscience had an equal if not greater influence on the formation of the Constitution than did any religious ideas. Likewise, John Calvin is a very important historical figure, and it's certainly good to know about him, but why on earth should a British religious reformer be taught at the expense of an American intellectual? Isn't it American history that we're teaching? And as far as the free market goes, yes, it does seem to be the most profitable economic system that we've come up with so far. But it's also brought us things like Enron, which clearly point to a need for significantly more market regulation than a pure free market philosophy would advise.

It could be worse, though. One of the amendments that fortunately got struck down was one that suggested that the civil rights movement created "unrealistic expectations for equal outcomes." The fact that anyone would even think about making that statement part of a generation's educational standards is seriously bile-inducing. "No, kiddo, all these people marching for their rights...they're not actually oppressed, they just think they are! Someone should just tell them what their place is so they don't get any unrealistic ideas..." Bleh.

Really, my main problem is that education should not be so politically driven. I understand the concept that you have to "get them while they're young" if you want kids to later subscribe to almost any ideology. But what about the idea of an actual education? What about educating kids so that they'll actually learn to think well about different ideas and later do well in college? Isn't that supposed to be the point of education in general? That should be more important than which historical figures you include or exclude, and it should prohibit you from only teaching certain facts about an event or period in history while willfully ignoring others. Intellectual honesty, people. I don't care what you choose to believe based on your analysis of the facts. I just want to know that you actually have the facts, all of them, and that you're actually, amazingly, using your ability to think.

Fish for Brains

A new study in Austria has shown that adolescents and young adults who are in danger of mental illness develop far fewer psychoses, and are less inclined towards psychotic breaks, when they take fish oil supplements. It makes sense. Omega-3 fatty acids are the building blocks of the brain and neural systems. We need lots of them in our diets for our nervous systems to function properly, and most peoples' modern diets don't include nearly enough of them. Most snack foods in general contain Omega-6 fatty acids, which are also important, but not used nearly as much in the brain. It's ironic, but in our fat-filled diets, we're not getting the fats we need.

Thr irony of the modern US is that we have so much food available, but so much of it is nutritionally unsound. It is entirely possible, in our world, to be both obese and malnourished. Who would have thought? And while we struggle with our waistlines, we're also screwing up our brains. I've discovered, over the past several years of pescatarian traveling, that food has a profound effect on mood and behavior. It's not just that hungry people are grumpy. That goes without saying. In Morocco, where my diet consisted mostly of overcooked-in-oil carrots and potatoes plus bread, I gained weight and felt listless much of the time. I generally got my energy and enthusiasm back in Essaouira, where I could at least, hamdulilah, get fish. While the presenece of variety in my diet was certainly exciting, I think that the effect of protein plus Omega-3's on my system was what really made a difference. In other countries I felt similar diet-based changes. Much as I loved the Czech Republic, the constant diet of fried cheese and potatoes nearly killed me.

Now, back in the US, I'm faced with the dilemma of being broke and needing to husband my resources as much as possible until I've acquired a steady income. Though there have been days when I've subsisted on cereal bars and bananas, I've discovered that it's much better to eat as well as I can afford to, because the health payoff is exponential. It's actually not that hard to do. Canned seafood has improved significantly from what I remember in childhood, and can be added to soups and sauces to provide those important proteins and Omega-3's. Lentils are ridiculously cheap, contain protein, and can be used to make soup. Kale and collard greens both hover around 99 cents a pound, and it takes a hell of a lot of them to make a pound, so you can have fresh vegetables regularly even on a budget (and they taste better than you think). The more I learn about diet and health, particilarly mental health, I realize that I can't afford not to eat well. As long as fresh veggies and some variety of seafood are available in some combination, I will eat them. It's important to feed your brain.

Teaching Computer Skills to an Ageing DC Debutante

I had an experience today so bizarre that it has to be shared. At dance class today I was approached by another dancer, a stick-thin, platinum blonde senior citizen who asked me, via a long and rambling monologue, to teach her how to use the internet. I guess she figured that I looked young, intelligent, and broke enough to be up for it, and she was right. After briefly checking my credentials ("how old are you--where did you go to college--What was your major--Ok I guess you must be smart--") she packed me into her sky blue convertible and drove me to her place, all the while telling me that she didn't invite people to her house very often, it was a really nice place, one of the nicest in the city, very impressive, and she hoped I wouldn't be intimidated.

I wasn't intimidated. But still.

Her home is a big brick mansion, looking out over a park. It has a sweeping marble staircase with wrought-iron rails at its center, and the floors are all marble or wood parquet. The coat closet is nearly as big as my current rented room. The dining room walls have hand-painted frescoes. Bits of neoclassical statuary are scattered throughout. It looks like a colonial baronage crossed with an Italian villa, with a few dashes of upscale design magazines thrown in for good measure. It's the kind of house I assumed only diplomats had, a setting where elegant cocktail parties featuring $500 bottles of champagne would not seem out of place. I, in my sweaty dance clothes and jeans, most certainly did not look like I belonged.

After telling the maid imperiously to bring up some refreshments, my hostess led me to the computer room, as meticulously decorated as the rest of the house. For the next hour and a half, I guided her through the basics. This is how you turn the computer on. You want an email account? Let's set one up. Here's how you send an email. Ok, let's try it again. After several iterations, we moved on to google. Her first search? Designer clothes, of course.

I found it all fascinating, not so much the lessons I was giving, but the context. What happens when a 1950s debutante has to confront the modern world? Underneath her makeup and wealthy manners, I detected a very real fear. The knowledge that, were it not for her gilded surroundings and the husband who provides them, she would not be able to survive. She told me that when she was in high school her teachers said that because she was pretty she should take home ec. She hated it, she told me. She said no one ever encouraged her to do anything academic. But what she did not say was also eloquent. She didn't actually try. At seventy, she's still attractive enough that I can see the beauty queen she must have been in her youth. She may have wanted something more than a good marriage, but she didn't have the will to pursue a path outside of her prescribed societal role. Now she's trying to learn a new skill, and she's afraid of it. There's a big, scary world out there, and she knows she's not prepared. I'll do the best I can to teach her. It will be very interesting to see how well she can learn.

Drag (Queen) Racing!

Last night was the annual Halloween Drag Queen Race near Dupont Circle. It was fabulous, as only an event featuring that much gratuitous glitter can be. Drag queens, drag queens everywhere, with ballgowns and lipstick and high heels, oh my. Several were arrayed in getup from musicals, complete with sequined marquees proclaiming which ones they were from. There were Elphaba and Glinda from "Wicked," a heavily made-up feline from "Cats," and a very large middle-aged "Annie," complete with bright orange wig. There was a very elegant Cruella DeVille, a classic devil in a red dress, and an acompanying cupid wearing a loincloth and wings and nothing else. Continuing in the theme of semi-nudity were a toga made from a rainbow flag and a feather boa bikini.

The queens all paraded around, blowing kisses to the audience before the race began. At the word "go" all parties began the three-block race in high heels, some with alacrity, some not. The front runners in the race were moving faster than I can run even without heels. The middle section was a scene of ballgowned mayhem, and the theatre crowd, hampered by their giant marquees, brought up the rear. They were followed only by the queens who had decided that real running wasn't worth it and they would just prance along in exaggerated mincing steps only marginally faster than walking.

The whole race only took about ten minutes, and then the crowd converged for photo opportunities. I was swept along by the human wave until I managed to break free and hit the metro. Sadly, I'd left my camera at home so had no way to preserve the fabulosity for posterity.

National Equality March

Today was the National Equality March in DC, to put pressure on Obama to repeal Don't Ask, Don't Tell and the Defense of Marriage Act. I did already blog about this on my more "official" blog, so all I'll say here is that it was awesome, both in the turnout (official counts are now over 200,000) and in how positive it all was. Almost celebratory. We haven't got our rights yet, but we made a damn good showing, and it's the largest gathering of gay people and supporters I've ever seen. Having just spent the better part of two years in countries where homosexuality Does Not Exist and/or Is Not Discussed, it was great to be in an environment where everyone was pro-gay. There weren't even that many counterprotestors. One truckful that jeered as we were waiting to get started, and a small knot of rather disgruntled churchgoers with a megaphone on one corner. I was marching with the UU church, which was marching behind a Jewish group, which I think was marching behind another religious group. So as we passed the bigots who were telling us that god hates fags, we all started chanting "god doesn't hate." They looked peeved. It might have burst their bubble to see church banners and rainbow banners marching side by side.
The other amazing thing was that at the beginning of the parade, when we were all gathered and waiting to move, we looked up and spotted a rainbow. Faint, but nevertheless there. We took it as a good sign. Apparently even god/deity/skyborne light particles were joining in the gay pride.

Iowa!? Yay!!!

So...I would never have thought that Iowa of all places would do this...but their Supreme Court just legalized gay marriage! Happy days are here :)

http://www.hrcbackstory.org/2009/04/human-rights-campaign-applauds-iowa-supreme-court-decision-on-marriage-rallies-to-be-held-across-the-state/

Maybe this means that there's hope for the rest of the nation...

Don't ask, don't tell?

I just read an article stating that the people who originally convened to instate teh "don't ask, don't tell" policy in the military barely even knew what the phrase "sexual orientation" meant when they first started discussing the issue. They came up with the policy in the name of "unit cohesion," the idea that if there were gay people in the military it would make military groups less able to work together, or something like that. That straight people would be squicked out and not want to deal with people who weren't like them.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/nathaniel-frank/as-congress-moves-to-end_b_171070.html

Of course, nowadays, now that several people have been kicked out of the military for being gay, more are being kept in because it seems like people just don't really care about it any more. One service member announced that he was gay on "60 Minutes" and has had felt no military ramifications whatsoever.

http://www.usatoday.com/news/military/2008-01-07-gay-troops_N.htm

I get the feeling that the more people who die in Iraq, and the more people want to get out of Iraq, the less people will care about who exactly it is that's serving as long as they're doing their job.

Fidelity

Courage Campaign, a liberal California org, teamed up with Regina Spektor to create this video protesting Proposition 8. The Supreme Court will hear arguments about Prop 8 on March 5, with a decision expected within 90 days. I'm not often in favor of bandwagons, but in this case...
Watch the video. Sign the petition. Spread the word.



Petition at http://www.couragecampaign.org/page/s/divorce

The Future has Officially Arrived

I found this link today and was floored. Apparently a man who had both leukemia and HIV now has detectable levels of neither following a stem cell transplant. He was given the treatment largely for the leukemia, but the doctors, knowing that the man was HIV positive, derived the stem cells from a donor with the HIV-resistant gene found in 1-3% of people of European descent. As I understand it, no one had much idea of whether the resistant donor gene would have any effect, and since the transplant was for the leukemia, HIV wasn't the main concern. But apparently it worked. Two years post-op, and the man has no signs of disease. I'm impressed.

It's not a solution that will work for most people, because stem cell transplants are fairly drastic procedures in and of themselves. But I think gene therapy is on the way. Noninvasive types of gene therapy could probably be in their final rounds of testing in about five years' time (based on my understanding of where the technology is now and my knowledge of how long clinical trials take). Once it's all tested, gene therapy could be the hope that millions of people are looking for, an alternative to AZT and the drug cocktails that are the current treatments for HIV and AIDS.

Here's to positive uses of stem cells!

http://www.cnn.com/2009/HEALTH/02/11/health.hiv.stemcell/index.html

Clarification

So, to clarify my last post...

I got a call from HR yesterday saying that there's not enough work in Morocco right now so they're letting go of expat leaders there. Those expats from the EU (i.e., most of them) will be leading trips in Europe. Those expats from the US (i.e., me) are in limbo. I am neither officially employed nor officially unemployed right now. I may be able to get transferred to a region where things are stronger (i.e., somewhere in Asia). Or I may get transferred to an affiliate company in the States. Neither of these things would be bad, and both would definitely beat undergoing a job search. But...

Morocco. It's been my home for a year. And while day-to-day life there isn't easy in the long term...it's such an amazing place. And I will miss many things. Sitting on the ramparts overlooking the sea in Essaouira. Getting lost and found again and again in Fes. Fresh orange juice for 3dh in Marrakech. Watching weavers and potters at work. Practicing Arabic. Seeing my Moroccan friends.

So I will miss Morocco. And I will try to go back there. Maybe to work, maybe to study, maybe just to visit. But I will be back. It's too much a part of me now to give it up.

Tour Leader for Hire

For Hire: One Tour Leader
Skills: Good with languages. Fluent French, decent Italian, beginning Arabic. Will learn other languages at will. Good at crossing cultural and linguistic barriers. Good negotiator. Manages groups well. Big on sustainability. Happy to work anywhere on earth. Needs job.
Any takers?

Aerial Dance and Gender Stereotypes

Earlier today I took an aerial dance class, my second one so far. It's the most fun I've had in a while, in terms of physical activity; my four-times-a-week yoga classes are good for getting back in shape, but not really what I would call "fun".(Too structured, always the same poses, more emphasis on staying in the postures than in the joy of movement). Aerial, on the other hand, is a form of dance, which means that joy in movement is integral. Doing amazing feats and making them look effortless and pretty...that's what movement is about.

So. Technique. You step up to the low trapeze, wrap your hands around it, and hang your weight down, making sure to protect your neck. Explore moving while hanging from the bar, see how it feels, that's the first step. Next step is to get up. Hold on to the bar, drop your weight down, and kick your feet up to place them between your hands. Hook your knees over the bar. Let go with your hands and arch your back. Now swing yourself back up to hold on to the bar with your hands, and walk your hands up the rope to pull yourself up to a sitting position. Ready to move on? Disengage your right leg from the bar and extend it down. Slide your left knee to one corner of the bar, and brace your right shoulder blade against the opposite rope. It will hold you, despite what you may think. Disengage your shoulder blade from the rope, hook your left elbow over the bar, and extend yoru right arm. You should be hanging from your left knee and your left elbow, with your body in a straight line extended below the bar. For something even more advanced, straighten your left leg and hook your foot aorund the rope. Bring your right hand up to the bar and let go with your left hand. You're now hanging below the bar with one wrist and one ankle. Had enough? Now you can get down. From the hanging position, just bring both hands up to hold the bar as you kick your feet down to land gracefully below.

We practice like this for an hour and a half. As a beginner, the wooden bar hurts my hands, I get rope burns on my palms, my triceps aren't strong enough to hold my full weight for very long, and my graceful landings are often more like thuds. By the end of class, my arms want to fall off. But it's fun, and I'm enjoying it. I look forward to getting stronger muscles and bigger calluses so I can stay up longer. I can't wait to develop more technique and artistic skill.

After class today, I struck up a conversation with an older woman who was tyring the class out. Fortysomething and built like the Pillsbury Dough Boy, she understandably had a bit of trouble. But she seemed nice enough, so we chatted a bit. She said that her arms hurt, and I said that was to be expected. After my first class I could barely lift grocery bags for the next several days. Then she said she didn't want calluses on her hands, because those look bad on women, and people would think badly of her. I suggested athletic tape as protection, but then...

"Defy gender stereotypes," I said, as I often do when confronted with the idea that there are things that women shouldn't do.
"What?" she responded, as though she must have misheard what I'd said.
"Defy gender stereotypes. Go against them. They're bad."
The dawn of horrified comprehension appeared. With a look of the most righteous possible indignation, she primly said "I believe in them very strongly." Her tone brooked no argument.

Oh. Oops.

Now, I admittedly self-select the people I hang out with. Most of my friends are queer or queer-friendly or just don't give a damn one way or the other what conventional wisdom says about how they should behave. I know boys who sew and girls who fix plumbing, and they're all quite comfortable with their gender identities. Even my friends who do partake in "stereotypical" activities will fight tooth and nail to say and show that they can do other things as well. Never have I ever in my life talked to someone, a woman no less, who "belives very strongly" in a system designed to keep us all rigidly in our (subordinate) place.

This woman won't do anything that will give her bruises, cuts, scrapes, blisters, calluses, or any other blemish. She's had five babies (which is worse for your body than most other activities I can think of that would result in bruising). She likes to pamper herself. (I could be uncharitable and say that this combination probably directly contributes to her Pillsbury shape, but that would be mean and unfair so I'll desist). She proceeded to tell me, in the most patronizing way possible, that I might think differently while I'm young and foolish but as I get older my opinions will change and I'll realize, like her, that the stereotypes are true.

Not bloody likely, I thought, but did not say. I bid her a polite goodbye. I doubt that I'll see her again. Aerial dance is not for the fainthearted, and if you're afraid of a few blisters you'll never get far. (That's true of most things, after all). As for me, I take pride in my bruises. I take pride in my calluses, scratches, and scars. They show what I've done, where I've been, what I've accomplished. From ballet feet to rope-burned palms, I have it all, and I'm not ashamed. So if you're looking for a nice, pretty, scarless girl to cook and clean and have babies, don't wait up for me.

I'll be on the trapeze.


Trapeze artist Emily Schadel

That's So Gay

I recently found on the GLSEN (Gay, Lesbian, Straight Education Network)website a set of ads geared toward teens to discourage the use of the phrase "that's so gay." Not sure how well it will work, but I do like the idea. Apparently the campaign was launched in October, and has won awards for creative and sensitive handling of the issue, which is good. Now the question is, will people listen?

There are three videos, each one featuring a different celebrity. Hillary Duff, Wanda Sykes, and, my personal favorite, Laurel Holloman of "The L Word."

Laurel Holloman's video is below. For the others, go to
http://www.thinkb4youspeak.com/

The Ultimate Narcotic

Last Friday, my girlfriend decided to cook us a fancy dinner at home. She went to the nearby market and bought bluefish, cream, and spinach linguini. She wouldn't tell me what was for dessert. After dinner she chased me from the kitchen, with several cautionings of "I've never tried this before" and "I don't know if this will work." So I stayed in the bedroom, reading Margaret Cho and wondering what the hell kind of dessert involved a pot of boiling water and a can of whipped cream. Ten minutes of so later I found out.

Chocolate Ravioli.

I was dubious, I admit. Chocolate pasta? How does that work? But with willing suspension of disbelief, I took a bite. And melted.

The ravioli are made with cocoa powder added to the pasta itself, and are stuffed with mascarpone and ricotta blended with bittersweet chocolate. They are divine. Incredibly rich. My girlfriend had bought six, but we found that we could only eat two each before lying back and falling asleep fully clothed with the lights on in a chocolate-induced coma. We woke up a few hours later, confused but still high.

So if you feel the need for opiates but can't get them prescribed, try chocolate pasta. Your girlfriend will thank you. :p

Prop 8, the musical

Most people have seen it at this point, but I'm posting it because it's great. The best way to deal with the politics you hate is to make fun of it, and this video is the perfect example.

Enjoy!

"Prop 8 - The Musical" starring Jack Black, John C. Reilly, and many more... from Jack Black

Make your own!

In order to publicize the sea kitten campaign, PETA also has a "make your own sea kitten" section on their website. It's surprisingly fun, particularly when you do things like combine moustaches and tiaras on them :p.



Create Your Own Sea Kitten at peta.org!

I eat sea kittens raw!

Apparently, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) has decided that fish need new PR. So, instead of "fish," swimming sea creatures with fins will henceforth be referred to as "sea kittens." The rationale being that "no one would want to hurt a sea kitten!"

http://www.peta.org/sea_kittens/about.asp

As it turns out...sea kittens are tasty, especially in the form of sushi. Which led a friend of mine, at a group sushi dinner in Boston, to propose making shirts for all of us that proclaim "I eat sea kittens raw." Because, in fact, we do.

Now, I refer to myself as a vegetarian. Technically I'm a pescatarian, because I'm vegetarian + fish. But normal people go "huh?" if I use big words, so I generally stick to explaining that veggies + fish = good. I've been called a hypocrite a number of times because I don't "go all the way," i.e., I'm not completely vegetarian or vegan. And the reason is...being completely vegetarian sucks. I tried it for a month or so, when I first went veg. At the time, I was dancing and fencing four days a week and becoming horribly protein deficient and anemic because a pure vegetarian diet within the constrains of a college dining hall was not sufficient to supply the nutritional needs of an athlete. I became vegetarian for health reasons, not ethics, and I missed seafood. I see nothing wrong with killing animals for food. The plants I eat die too. I do have a problem with the practices used in the megafarming of livestock, but if I really wanted to eat meat I could easily get around that by eating organic-free-range-and-humanely-killed-animals. Which brings me back to why I still eat sea kittens.

My reason for being vegetarian, quite simply, is that meat makes me sick. Physically ill. It's like lactose intolerance, only with meat. My body doesn't produce the right enzymes, and I'm not willing to eat something that causes me intense physical pain. So birds and mammals are outside my natural food chain. Sea kittens are not, because seafood in general is healthy for me and does not make me ill. Yes, there are problems with deep-sea trawling and overfishing that get my ethics up. And I'm still working out the best way to handle that. But in the meantime, I'm going to eat what keeps me healthy. And raw sea kittens are definitely on that list.

Siren Song

Margaret Atwood is one of those names you hear a lot in feminist circles, but until a few months ago I'd never read anything by her. I finally got my hands on a copy of The Handmaid's Tale during one of my trips, and I found it both absorbing and disturbing, as she doubtless intended. I've since heard of other books by her, though I've not yet read them. But I have discovered that she also writes poetry. Thus far, this is my favorite.

Siren Song


This is the one song everyone
would like to learn: the song
that is irresistible:

the song that forces men
to leap overboard in squadrons
even though they see beached skulls

the song nobody knows
because anyone who had heard it
is dead, and the others can’t remember.
Shall I tell you the secret
and if I do, will you get me
out of this bird suit?
I don’t enjoy it here
squatting on this island
looking picturesque and mythical
with these two feathery maniacs,
I don’t enjoy singing
this trio, fatal and valuable.

I will tell the secret to you,
to you, only to you.
Come closer. This song

is a cry for help: Help me!
Only you, only you can,
you are unique

at last. Alas
it is a boring song
but it works every time.

Margaret Atwood