Let There Be Homo

This is an eye opening site. Click on the billboards on the right-hand side for a discussion about each.

Some of the arguments are less compelling than others and seem more like rhetoro-semantical mental masturbation, but they do raise interesting and valid points. As someone who speaks multiple languages, I appreciate the difficulties in translating from one language to another while still retaining all of the original meaning. Many times there aren't equivalent words, so you have to choose one that comes as close to the mark as possible. Something inevitably gets lost.

That's the one of the points that the authors of the site are trying to make. Modern society doesn't really have the concept of "sluts for Jesus" or "Hindi hookers" or what-have-you. There are no major world religions that use sex as a ritual part of their worship. But this cultural concept certainly existed in the old world. It seems to me that equating homosexuality with the types of sexual practices associated with the specific word(s) used in the Bible is disingenuous. The original words refered to some very specific types of ritualized sex. Additionally, it's not intellectually or practically honest to translate the original terms as 'homosexual' when that word and its modern meaning were coined no earlier than 1898 in Germany. It's like saying that all gay people are into fisting and that's the only type of sex they have. It doesn't make sense; it's not logical.

Another thing I find very interesting is that nowhere in the Bible is lesbianism condemned -- I don't think it's even mentioned. All the passages seem to be geared at man-on-man action. This speaks volumes about the cultural constructs of 'manliness' and 'womanliness.'

At any rate, all the passages dealing with homosexuality should be dealt with very carefully for 2 reasons. 1) Problems with translation pertaining to cultural concepts and practices that existed 2000 years ago but are no longer. 2) Jesus placed one rule above all the others -- 'love thy neighbor'. He was very adamant to remind everyone not to throw stones or judge others.

Oh Happy Day

I was trolling the internets this morning and I came across this.

New Dead Like Me makes me a very happy sailor. I shall be not so patiently waiting for this to become purchaseable.

Why I Love Latin American Literature

There is something about Latin American literature that you don't seem to find anywhere else. I'm currently reading Hopscotch by Julio Cortazar -- he just happens to be my all time favorite author. This book has it all: death, life, intellectualism, anti-intellectualism, the riduculous, the serious, and so on and so forth.

I was reading a chapter this morning on my way to work, and it reminded me why I like him. The scene was absolutely ridiculous. We're talking mind-shattering levels of retardedness. The main character (for some reason known only to him) decided he needed to straighten a can full of nails. In the middle of all this he decides he wants some tea, but he doesn't have any in the house. So he yells out to his friend that lives on the same floor in the apartment building across the alley. Instead of simply bringing the tea over, these 2 idiots decide to build a bridge between their windows from some ratty-ass boards they have laying in their apartments.

Throughout this whole process they're having this crazy intellectual discussion, and they con the neighbor's wife into crossing the bridge to deliver the tea (and more nails). She gets about halfway across and gets really scared; she thinks the bridge is going to break and she'll fall to her death. Her husband decides she needs a straw hat to keep the sun off her head. The other moron makes her play this stupid game involving questions that purposely make no sense. Eventually, she makes it back to her apartment, the guy gets his tea (even though the bag exploded when it hit the dresser he toppled over on his bed to support the rope he'd tied to the springs to keep the 'bridge' from falling) and everyone is more or less happy.

The scene ends with the people downstairs commenting on the whole thing. Turns out the woman on the board wasn't wearing anything under her bathrobe. And one kid remarks that he'd never seen so much hair on a woman. R-i-d-i-c-u-l-o-u-s! It was so fantastically absurd, idiotic, and unbelieveable. And yet at the same time, it seemed like there was an allegory for the state of affairs in Latin America. So, I'm going to rename this book to Jackass - The Novel.

Angst

My patience for all things stupid is at about 0.17% these days. I'm seriously ready to bring the beat-down to most people who cross my path these days. I'm wondering if there's some mass conspiracy going on out there, because there is just way too much asshattery. People on the metro, people at work, people driving [granted, that's a given in DC], and even on the airwaves.

This whole Imus thing is completely out of control. He's a shock-jock. He says cataclysmically retarded things for a living!! Granted, he had no business calling people nappy-headed hos. But still, this type of speech is his whole thing. Personally, I have no use for shock-jocks. They're vuglar and bring the whole culture down into the muck. But some people like them. So, I don't think the whole country should get up in arms about what some idiot who gets paid to say stupid things says on the air.

His comments were most definately racist and sexist. But don't we have much bigger fish to fry? Last I checked G-Dub is still in office and all sorts of crazy is still coming out of the White House on a daily basis. Iraq is still a cesspit (now with more bomby goodness). And the Dept. of Justice has been seriously hijacked by right-wing ideologues. Racism in the U.S. is definately a problem -- but this type of media-hype isn't the way to address the issue.

I Am Scruffy McGee, Internet Super Sleuth

You want? I find. You need? I find. You lost? I find. You speak in complete sentences and sound like a normal person? I hate.

I've been thinking about some of my college cohorts lately, and realizing how much I miss them. It's mostly my fault because I'm really awful about keeping in touch with people; I really need constant adult supervision 24/7.

So, Gumshoe LaQuita put on her sleuthing hat last night and went to work. I managed to round up the e-mail address of one of my classmates -- She goes by the name of Burrita Starr, nee Tim. I e-mailed Tim and he got in touch with me this morning. We caught up and had a great chat. He's also going to forward me another classmate's e-mail. She goes by the name of Betsy, nee Betsy. I'll have to pump him for more e-mail and maybe some methamphetamine later. I keed. (Seriously, where's my crack, ho? I need a fix. sssssh.)

I did have some help from Neil trying to locate another friend, but that didn't turn out as expected. Neil is waiting for the results and here they are. A strange woman answered the phone ... not like when you call 1-800-HOT-HOTT, but one of those strange women that might be wearing leopard print thongs under their acid washed jeans. That kind of strange.

100

According to my navipanel (or whatever it is that Blogger calls it), this is my 100th post.

[Cue music playing, balloons dropping, confetti and streamers flying everywhere and go-go boys shakin' their Ricky Martin bon-bons all up in this bitch. Open up Cell Block 8.]

I think I've said all I need to. Any L'il Kim reference pretty much ends a post.