Feminism, Revisited.

“He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man.”  - Samuel Johnson, the epigraph of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

“If the feminine issue is so absurd, is because the male's arrogance made it "a discussion” ― Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex

Yes, Misters Johnson and Thompson both wrestle with the underlying plague of mankind- the burden of existence as a sentient being. Learning to navigate the existence of consciousness and metacognition on top of simply existence itself is something many great thinkers have come to such varied conclusions over. We can accept one of myriad solutions, or not, and negate the problem through suicide or excessive drug use.

I’ve beat the fuck out of this dead horse for decades. So now I turn to the question of what relieves us of the burdens of womanhood; the burden of being defined by a culture that does not see your kind as an equal participant (no, not really, especially when sexual dimorphism dictates that there is an exploitable inequality). As many women would acknowledge grudgingly, there’s an unspeakable level of domination that we pretend to equalize through other means, such as equal opportunity under the law. Let this be clear: equal opportunity does not guarantee equal outcomes.

We need not be defined as woman. To do so is to mark us as abnormal, different, non-man. We need to re-embrace female-ness. What it means to live as females, whether you come to that realization through actually being born with a vagina or not (and yes, that’s a dig leveled against TERFS. That sort of categorical thinking is bullshit and quite possibly the least feminine thing possible, hypocrites). My suggestion is to start with accepting our submission as part of accepting our great, untapped power to do just that – accept.

Sitting in general isolation from the rest of society thanks to a pandemic, I am transported back to November 2012, when Hurricane Sandy ripped through Monmouth County, leaving homes leveled, power lines destroyed, roads blocked and communication intermittent. Society was at an absolute standstill for over two weeks and, for many, disrupted for much longer than that. Many railed against the uncertain times by hiding out, hating every minute. For others, acceptance was the only way to move forward. It was either get over not having washed hair and lend a hand raking out someone’s house of debris, or sit miserably until some degree of normalcy was restored. But, what if “normal” was forever different? Acceptance of a limitation - frailty, mortality and uncertainty – is a negative power. Like negative rights, negative power marks the importance of not letting an externality affect your inner self.

To embrace femaleness is to embrace negative power. No one is affected by your female nature and they cannot take it away from you. It asks for nothing from anyone. Being a woman, in a sense, does because to embrace being a woman is to embrace the trappings of what others conceive of as defining a woman. There is not an inherent good to being a woman over being female, as someone who is defining this as inclusively as possible, female can be adopted by anyone, regardless of biological sex or adopted gender (or lack thereof).

For all people, regardless of sex/gender, start small – you don’t have to go right to accepting your own mortality – work up to it. Accept not racing through a yellow light and having to sit for two minutes at a yellow light. Accept that creamer is all gone and you have to use milk. Have your day not ruined by expectations that are sky-high. Feminism is for all the Lebowskis out there. Accept and feel no shame.

“Representation of the world, like the world itself, is the work of men; they describe it from their own point of view, which they confuse with absolute truth.”

― Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex

An Atheist Laments the Loss of Spirituality

I write a lot about influences on my personal philosophy and worldview. 2 undergraduate history courses had a great impact on who I am today.The first was "19th Century Europe," and the second, "The History of Modern Japan." Time-wise, there was overlap, obviously, with both classes focusing on the "long century" that was the 19th. Chronologically, the 19th century was clearly as long as any other. However, certain historians designate the ideological underpinnings and mindset that came to signify the 19th century as beginning in 1789 (first French Revolution) and ending with the outbreak of WW1 in 1914. There is a dialectical forking that persists through this long century - one marked by the ideological optimism of Enlightenment thought that brought sweeping reforms as well as medical, social and technological advancements which ultimately made life more easily lived by most; the other prong characterized by a cynical secularism that arose from the waning power of religious ideology - a disregard for most of human history by training the eye always forward.

These two paths, I'd argue, didn't really coalesce into a new formation until after the devastation of the first truly "world" war. There is something absolutely beautifully breathtaking in the scope of the existential crises that WW1 inflicted upon humanity. Nietzsche was right about the men of his time - the scientists, the secularists, the non-believers in anything spiritual- so sure of themselves that the only thing that mattered was the material. If or when their "spirit" of life sought solace, the only choice became destruction - death. Such a man is capable of committing suicide to alleviate his angst, but only through mass homicide. And thus, the very long 19th century, one marked by practices in  restraint and propriety and logic, led to a bungle so heinous that the world was forever transformed, but scarred, in the process. Thus, for all of the measured control exerted by the Victorians, they succumbed to the same crushing defeat (through mass carnage) as any other historical era.

The burgeoning world power that was Japan at the end of the 19th century (fin de siecle) shared Western Europe's ideological, future-oriented optimism. However, the reasons I gravitated toward Japanese literature were grounded in their philosophical outlook - the first being that "Japanese existential essence." The canonical works (and even entire forms of expression like haiku) reflect Buddhism steeped in fatalistic waters. Japan lies on fault lines, hosts volcanoes, experiences real catastrophes based on sea level changes and is at the forefront of tsunami activity in the Pacific.  Secondly, in many works from the fin de siecle through WW2, the meteoric rise of a culture so divorced from real spirituality is evident. Rituals and relationships begin to ring hollow, and yet leaders push them to mean more and more. After the fall of the Japanese Empire in 1945 through such a brutal explosion of force (re: the atomic bomb) a new interface between existentialism and nihilism opened up. The collective consciousness of an entire nation became one of post traumatic stress disorder.

Personally, that type of existential crises intrigues me. How does someone (or in this case, an entire people) overcome such trauma? Not that my culture has ever experienced anywhere near that level of devastation (maybe some of the more recent hurricanes would fit the bill, but even those were not colored by the same gravity of being a choice made by humans to inflict directly on other humans), but for many empathetic people, one can imagine how quickly everything you know could change. We all know people whose lives were going one way....until they weren't anymore. On the other hand, American culture likes to promote only the successful stories - the rags-to-riches (and even the riches-to-riches) tales. As a species, we tend to learn more from the oppositely-oriented ones.

Subsequently, the development of Japan in the post-WW2 era is also fascinating. Fast-forwarding to today, the country's embrace of technological advancements and capitalism created a society of commodification. No time for a relationship? Go to a host club. No time for a pet of your own? Visit a cat cafe for the afternoon. Is the spiritual edge that once stirred me still there? According to various news reports in the past few years, old ways are indeed dying out. Less and less people are identifying as a member of any particular religion, and without patrons, historic temples are shuttering. Beyond the rise of secularism, Japan also faces a crisis of being at zero population growth. Is this a natural ebbing which will be followed by a flowing of fertility? Or has intense commodification wrought these changes? Much like in the Western world, many people of childbearing age delay having children due to extended educational careers, economic instability and generalized anxiety over bringing a child into a seemingly tumultuous world.

Would things be different if there was some degree of spiritual grounding? Populations that identify as religious have a been studied to have higher birth rates. Is there less anxiety about the future (and your children's futures) if a god/gods is/are involved? Personally, the idea of having children never scared me, nor did I think of "the right time" as being any other time than the present. Perhaps that's a stupid, short-sighted way of approaching the big responsibility of bringing another life into this world, but it's also a biological impulse for many that doesn't really warrant that much thought. People successfully had children when they were mucking around as serfs on some lord's lands. Children were brought into this world in the middle of wars, under enslavement, in concentration camps, during diasporas - in other words, the absolute worst conditions humans could endure. So the middle class professional who's "just waiting for the right time to bear children" might be overthinking things a bit. An industry of child-rearing books, products and experts has stripped away what humans have been able to do naturally, even under duress, for millennia.

Thus, the restrictions we face are often put upon us by ourselves. This fact is evident from about day 3 of being a parent or ever being in charge of anyone (even for a short period of time). Why the fuck do we care to continue to restrict human potential? Are we carrying on in ways we know are unsustainable, illusory, etc? What could possibly end some, even if not all, of the destructive behaviors we engage in? Literally wading through consistently flooded streets? And what can replace the desires that are not acted upon? Distractions...material accumulation? Virtual realities? I would constantly ask myself these questions while studying the 19th century, as I do regarding our society now. Surely we do not live in such a buttoned-up era as the Victorians, but there is some overlap ideologically. The confusing social milieu of now leads to personal censorship akin to the propriety of our predecessors. Say the wrong thing, share the wrong meme, and *poof* "cancelled." The fear of being shunned has dampened personal expression and experimentation. There is little room for mistakes. So people don't even try, as not to fail.

Perhaps with God being dead (and we, and our forebears in Western society, having killed him), the only way out of endless material accumulation IS (self) destruction.And not mass suicide or suicide through homicide, but the tearing down of a system that has failed. For the sake of all of us, and especially for the sake of the generations recently or even yet to be born, fuck this society. Let's band together to build a new, communal one.

On Love in Many Forms

After reading this piece from the "Modern Love" column in the NYT - Romance as friendship - I decided I should try to write my own explanation of how I love. This has been kicking around in my head for a while, but it has taken some effort to articulate my thoughts and feelings on the matter. Saying "I love you" is no light task. If I've said it to you, I've meant it in a profound way and it's not something most people in my life will ever hear. In my first romantic relationship, my boyfriend said those words after a month of dating. Although I'm sure it came off in a bitchy way, I laughed in disbelief and said I couldn't return the sentiment...yet. It took me over a year to do so. Nearly half a lifetime later, I know that my way of loving (and expressing said love) is different from most. Of course today there's a label for every kind of love expression. If we want to get specific, I fall into the category of "demisexual" which seems to cover anything from nearly asexual to stereotypical sexual expression. Generally speaking, demisexual expression of romantic feelings is a slow burn - there's no "love at first sight" or immediate chemistry. The relationship progresses over time and usually meanders through a long friendship before the demisexual can ever truly feel romantic feelings for the object of their interest (I'd say desire, but that seems to not be the case).

Like the author in the article, those who are the closest to me friendship-wise, probably have, at one time or another, been an object of desire to me. Further reading on the "demisexual" way of love brings up the idea that such people are often "confused" about whether someone is a friend or a romantic interest. Well, yes, I guess that might be the case, but this explanation also tries to fit an unconventional way of approaching love into the more conventional box. Such a dismissal of love as confusion also elevates monogamy above other forms of expression - how can you hold romantic love for a friend and a designated erotic partner? Monogamy is the norm due to socialization - there are obviously many benefits to monogamous relationships, and although I am in one, I do not necessarily think they are by any means the natural expression of human desire (nor do I think having multiple partners necessarily is either). The expressions of human sexual desire and love are kaleidoscopic - multi-layered; a complex mix of elements we can never fully tease out to reflect a cut-and-dry explanation. Some expressions are obviously more preferable to others, especially for the stability of society and safety of its members. Although we has made great strides to be more inclusive, there is still room to grow. And I'm sure most people don't think they're wrong regarding their opinion, but I cannot see how, logically, there would be only one form of sexual expression. Naturally (and thus, evolutionarily), adaptation would lead to a spectrum of presentations of sexuality, just as it has led to variations in height, weight, eye, hair and skin color, etc.