So, anyone who tells you that polyamory is always easy is lying. I mean, the rewards, when it works out, are amaze-balls, but it requires a lot of work. And sometimes that work is really really hard. And scary. And utterly terrifying and real.
But, you know what makes it harder? Feelings. (Aren’t you glad I didn’t say “feels”? Yeah, well too bad because I said it anyway). I mean, all the warm fuzzies and sexy feelings from meeting someone new and awesome are great, and I love meeting awesome people that I like. Seeing your partners happy is a really nice thing as well, and seeing the people in my life continue to grow, mature, and learn about themselves is a wonderful thing (go us!). There are aspects of relationships, poly or not, which are wonderful. I would never not maintain relationships because it’s hard to do so.
I’m capable of allowing my partners to pursue what they want and need, and am doing so. The happiness that they get from their other relationships are not negotiable; they are part of those people, and I could not love them as they are (that is, authentically) if they were not also with those other partners. The rewards are being with those people I love, no matter who else they love.
But then there are things like anxiety and other fun things that come up when shit gets complicated. You know, like when the woman you are really into has a boyfriend who is new to and unsure about polyamory, and you feel like a total shit for making him feel terrible for fucking their shit up. That, coupled with the fact that the woman you are totes into is totes into you and doesn’t think she can go back to just being exclusive with her long term partner, largely because she has never really wanted monogamy. And then the time you meet is, perhaps, not the most ideal and it leads to shit getting real.
I don’t try to proselytize polyamory by meeting awesome women in monogamous/monogamish relationships,, or really at all. In this case, it just happened that way due to a random set of circumstances that lined up the right way (or wrong way, perhaps, from another point of view). I’ve never dealt with this type of situation before. I’ve met monogamously inclined single women that I liked (that didn’t work out), but not polyamorously inclined women in a relationship with a monogamously-inclined partner. I’m sure I’m not the first, but it’s new to me so I am trying to tread carefully.
After long conversations late into the wee hours of the night, it became clear that there is no clean way out of this situation. Sometimes, we can’t go just back to the way things were. Sometimes, to go forward involves changing everything, whether in good or bad ways. If circumstances were a little different, I might just walk away and let them repair their relationship, but I’m not sure that’s possible anyway. So I’m not just walking away, because I like her too much, and she likes me too much. At this point, the damage has been done, so it’s a matter of how we are going to re-build the boundaries. And it might mean that I might have to not be part of it, which I don’t prefer but have to accept as a reality.
This is where communication is most important. There are people hurt right now, and it’s partially (largely) my fault, but it cannot simply be ignored. Communication will be awkward, terrifying, and nerves will be raw. But it must be done. As I write this, I’m starting lines of communication with the boyfriend. I don’t know where it will lead, if it will be awful or fine, and I am all kinds of nervous. I’m nervous to not come across as threatening, aggressive, or flippant. I am also impressed that he’s willing to talk, despite his obvious discomfort. But it must be done.
For the sake of the woman in question (who will still remain unnamed), so that she does not have to keep mediating all of the conversation, we have to be adults and talk this out. It probably will not be fun, but it is necessary.
If there is a take away from this post, it is this. Make the effort to talk about the problems which exist as early as you can. Relationships are hard, and you should communicate all of your preferences, desires, fears, etc. Communication may not lead to the solution you want, but it will avoid the worst case scenarios that come about by ignoring the problems.
Way back in the 20th century I discovered polyamory while in college.
First, there was Erin. We met early in our freshman year, had instant chemistry, but she had a boyfriend. But our intense chemistry did not slow us down much, and eventually her and her boyfriend went their separate ways, and Erin and I dated through sophomore year.
When junior year came around I met another girl, Lauren while Erin and I were still going strong. These two women complimented each other for me in many ways, and as I started to spend more and more time with Lauren, Erin started to worry. Eventually I (stupidly) broke up with Erin and dated Lauren.
And then I started dating Erin again, this time while not breaking up with Lauren. They both were friends, they knew that I was dating both of them, and they were comfortable enough such that the 3 of us spent a lot of time together. Then I discovered the term ‘polyamory.’ To make a long story short, all that ended badly, due to being young, immature, and not having the experience that could have made it turn out better.
I bring this up today because it is a pattern that is familiar to many people, including monogamous people, and because there is a variation on this theme that comes up with polyamorous people a lot; meeting a polyamorous someone while monogamous.
Now, I have not had this happen to me in my own life, but it happens. And, as a polyamorous person, I see the other side of this frequently. Just recently, I’m seeing the other side of this in my own life. Just recently, someone who has been monogamous with someone for a few years met me.
Over the weekend, at the PA State Atheist Conference, I met a lot of people. I got a chance to hang out with some fellow atheist bloggers, old friends from the community I have not seen in a while, and made some new friends. There were a number of intelligent and attractive women there, and because I like attractive and intelligent women I flirted with some of them (because yes, that is still allowed…) and got some flirting back. In the end, I met someone fantastic.
So, as the conference was ending and people were leaving, I found myself sitting with a woman who I had noticed checking me out, and decided to just go for it. I asked her out. She smiled and said some words that told me that she was monogamous; “I have a boyfriend.” Because, see, a polyamorous person saying this would not be a no to the date, it would just be information about them. But the fact that this was the answer to being asked out, I figured that this was the end of that line of conversation.
As we kept talking (because a no to a dating proposition is not necessarily the end to a conversation, especially since I tend to ask people out I like and I am able to have attractive female friends), the sense of flirtation never quite left but I figured this was an example of how monogamous people are still attracted to other people, even if they may not do anything about it. Then I mentioned my girlfriend, and she gave me a confused look.
Oh, I never told her I am polyamorous, I thought. We had talked some, but it hadn’t come up because we were at an atheist conference and other things were going on.
And then the conversation changed a little. I explained polyamory (she already new what it was), and she expressed some interest in attending the Doctor Who burlesque that most of us here at polyskeptic were putting on that night. It turned out there was one extra ticket, and she showed up!
And then the real flirting started, after the show that night. There was real sexual and personality chemistry between us, but she still had a boyfriend. I knew that at some critical stage that attraction would become too difficult to manage, so rather than suppress it I made sure she knew exactly how I was feeling, what I wanted, etc. She knew I was into her, she told me she was into me, and I knew where it was going if we didn’t get off that train. She showed up, again, after the third show two nights later, and we talked more. I knew we were in trouble, and it was crystal clear when we kissed.
All this time, she had been in open communication with her boyfriend, who is out of town with family business. None of this was completely surreptitious. Had she been hiding her flirtation and interest in me from him, I would have not continued (despite my attraction) because that is a terrible way to start a relationship. I could not trust a person who was lying about me to their partner(s).
Being caught up in all of this whirlwind of the genesis of a potential new relationship, having new feelings for someone I just met, has taken me back to those early college days when I was first falling in love with Erin while having to navigate the right things to do, what to say, etc to try and respect an existing relationship while not pretending that I’m not burning up inside with desire. The difference here as compared to then is that then I saw no alternative to replacing the boyfriend, and this time I find myself wanting to make sure that the boyfriend does not see me as a threat. I don’t want to replace anyone. I just want to love who I love, how I love them, and understand that they want to do the same.
I want to add to, not subtract from, the life of this woman with whom I’m sharing this whirlwind. I don’t want to have her boyfriend see this as a threat, I want him to see that polyamory has the potential to have our horizons broadened, our ability to love enhanced and strengthened, and to break down the walls of social expectations around love, ownership, and exclusivity. A Brave New World indeed!
But from his point of view this is all scary, sudden, and confusing. I have not talked to him so far, but I know this is causing stress to both of them, and all I want to do is make it better. There is not much I can do, however, and so I find myself struggling with wanting to see her again (and again) but knowing that the more time we spend together, the harder it will be to not look threatening to him. Also, the more time I spend with her, the harder the potential end to this ride will be. I would be hurt if it had to end as things are, and so I find myself trying my patience in order to make sure it doesn’t have to. But it’s difficult.
I have to balance the desires that the two of us have with the struggle that her boyfriend is going through, and it is not an ideal situation for any of us.
I don’t know what’s going to happen. I know that this woman (who I will not name because I have not asked her if she would mind my doing so) is the kind of person I could stay with long term, potentially. I know she loves her boyfriend and does not want to hurt him (neither do I). I know I want her in my life, and that includes all of the sexy feelings we have for each other. Being just friends would be painful, inauthentic, and would ultimately fail in the long run. (I’ve been through a similar situation in the past, and that did not end well. I want this situation to end well).
I know I’m nervous and anxious about this. I know that he must be terrified. But I want him, and any other person in this type of situation, to know that I am not here to hurt anyone or break up any relationships. Poly people (ideally) do not end other people’s relationships; they add to them.
I just want to love who I love, as I love them, and understand that they will want to do the same. I am not a threat, even if the situation seems threatening. That is so hard to understand from a monogamous point of view, and it is a reality that much of our culture still has to learn.
So, here’s to monogamous culture adjusting to a growing polyamorous world. And to all of us loving who we love, how we want to love them, and understanding that they will all do the same.
Life is…life. No, let me not be so cynical. Life right now has a lot of good going on, despite the anger/sadness/anxiety party going on in my head here and there. Our burlesque show opened and has been going wonderfully well, and generally dancing around in awesome costumes and allowing myself great vulnerability amongst happy patrons has been exactly what I need at the end of the day. I often feel this way about Arcati Crisis shows. I have spent many a show getting my stress out with the power of rock.
I think I would have become “certifiably crazy” years ago if I didn’t have a very healthy and eclectic sense of humor and multiple artistic outlets. I have very bad days where I can’t seem to laugh at anything and I have zero inspiration for creative endeavors. Those days are the bleakest. But most days are at least peppered with moments where I laugh a lot to myself or out loud and where I have ideas for projects I want to do. Thank goodness.
The show yesterday was absolutely awesome (a blend of no technical problems and fun and appreciative energy from a fab audience). My final piece takes a lot out of me, as it is about peeling away the artificial layers in order to reveal the true version of myself…yes, I’m such a fucking artist. Stop rolling your eyes. Anyway, it is emotional and I haven’t been getting enough sleep. Long story short, I cried hysterically all the way home out of a sense of loneliness and loss and it was great. (Note: it was not great)
I have a lot going on and am in the process of making some difficult and life changing decisions to finally rise above the much and mire of my teens (I know…I probably should have done this, you know, in my teens, but whatever…better late than never). I’m also still dealing with that whole sexual assault thang and in the process of learning to think about myself as important and worthy of considering.
As you might imagine, this is not easy. So, you know, a competent therapist would be hella sweet right about now, but…GUESS WHAT? Apparently, therapists don’t check their voicemail for days at a time. And if they do, it doesn’t matter because they have no time for me, but they totally have some names of other therapists I can call and wait around for! Aren’t they helpful?!?
Dear therapists, I know you are busy because a lot of people need help and I am really happy that some of the stigma is lifting and people are coming to you for the help you need. But…I really don’t understand why it’s this hard to just get a call back from people. I know that my experience thus far is not a reflection of the profession as a whole, but what exactly am I supposed to think? Has therapy really been reduced to an “I know a guy” industry? I feel like my experience in finding a therapist has been similar to the search for a non-awful/cheating/unethical mechanic.
Look, all I’m saying is if you are going to insist that people call you and leave messages (because for some reason you don’t want people to email you), CHECK YOUR VOICEMAIL AND RESPOND TO PEOPLE IN A TIMELY GODDAMN MANNER. It’s not hard. But you know what is hard? Calling a hundred therapists and being treated like you’re just calling to shoot the shit or something.
I cannot say this enough: The process of coming to terms with the fact that you would greatly benefit from professional therapy is a hard one. If you’re like me, you think that you can do everything on your own and that you should leave the doctors and the therapists and the flu vaccinations and everything else to the people who had it the absolute worst. I am strong and can take the hit, so if you need this resource please don’t let me take it from you. This is me giving too much credit to my own privilege and ignoring how much I am hurting and all the stupid shit I believe. Does that sound easy to you? It shouldn’t and you should be pretty happy that I have gotten that far without you calling me or respecting me. But the process of actually finding a therapist should not be this hard. Picking up the phone is hard, but you shouldn’t have to keep worrying after you get the nerve to do that.
So yeah, I’m aggravated. I thank all the people who gave me recommendations. Perhaps it’s me or something though…because people either cannot see me or don’t want to talk to me (apparently). What I’m really good at finding are useless therapists who do more harm than good! So if anyone is looking for one of them, hit me up.
I know, I know, I’m sounding cynical again. Let me assure you that despite the fact that I am developing a general distaste for the therapy industry, I am actually making a lot of progress on my own (well, not strictly on my own…I have some pretty amazing people helping me on a daily basis and I can’t emphasize enough how grateful I am for their presence in my life now and for years to come). I am a different person than I was even a month ago and things that were hard for me to do before are getting easier and I am learning quickly how to be my own person in a way that others can see. I knew after my ridiculous therapy appointment a couple of weeks ago that this whole finding not-a-douchebag was going to be long and arduous, so I couldn’t wait around to start the work. So I’m getting there and I’m functioning well, even if I still have some meltdowns. It’s ok to have meltdowns. Things are upsetting right now but I’m living with it and showing it whose boss. Or something.
Soon I will write a great feminist triumph story that was a light in my life recently. So there’s that! But if you have a therapist you love and you are local, ask them if they have evening or weekend hours available and I’ll give them a call. I will keep calling. I will keep trying.
For those of you who are interested in such things (and as a follow up to my post from the other day related to Babbage), I embed a youtube video of a Babbage Difference Engine, created from Babbage’s drawings and plans. The original one was (mostly) completed in 1991, but the one on the video, which is currently on display in Mountain View, CA, was completed several years ago. The video has details.
It’s fascinating to watch:
The machine in the video is the property of Nathan Myrhvold, who is a former CTO at Microsoft, who plans to eventually display this machine in his living room. Man, I hope if he has guests nobody spills a drink on it.
I don’t know if i will be in California again before it’s taken off display, but if you end up near Mountain view while it’s still there check it the museum. Hell, stop by anyway, the place looks pretty awesome.
Yet while Ada was lucky in the education she received, she has scarcely more ground for optimism than any other intellectually enthusiastic women of her day as regards finding an outlet for her mental energies after her education was completed.
…
For a woman of Ada’s day and social class who wished to lead a mentally fulfilling life, the opportunities were close to non-existent. There was generally little alternative but to marry, produce children, and live for one’s husband.
The Ada above is Ada Byron, the only legitimate child of Lord Byron, later known as Ada Lovelace (after marrying a man who later became the Earl of Lovelace). If you don’t know the name Ada Lovelace, you should. A close friend of Charles Babbage, who is sometimes referred to as the father of computers, she was inspirational and influential in the development and the spreading of Babbage’s Analytical Engine, which was the conceptual framework for the eventual practical creation of computers.
Over 100 years later.
The reasons why the development of computers happened closer to 1950 than 1850 is in part due to Babbage’s poor diplomatic and interpersonal skills, but also to politics of 1840’s England (Sir Robert Peel, then the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, had a part in this, being the miser who refused Babbage’s funding in 1842). Ada Lovelace, a woman of enthusiasm and wonderful ability to explain the concepts that Babbage ingeniously foresaw, was not able to be the spokesperson nor the valuable colleague that she might have been had Babbage’s stubbornness not been so potent.
The ‘Interpretor’
Charles Babbage
Many men in academia and technology may have some traditional precedent, with Charles Babbage, in treating women collaborators as mere assistants or, in this case ‘interpreters,’ but at least there is no evidence or reason to believe that Babbage sexually harassed Lovelace (although it would not be impossible that they were lovers, although there is little evidence of this as well). Babbage was not especially misogynistic or awful, he was actually generally liked as far as I can tell, especially by Ada herself. But this was the 19th century, and misogyny was simply a stark truth about the European world.
Suffice it to say, Ada Lovelace may have had a much more profound influence on the earlier development of information technology had Babbage’s stubbornness and selfishness not been so debilitating to his obvious intellect. Perhaps there is a lesson in there for all intelligent and yet stubbornly selfish and short-sighted men in the various places where skepticism and technology reign.
But more universally, there is a lesson for all of us. Our intelligence, even if great, is often insufficient. We need more than mere processing power and memory to be wise, and perhaps it is wisdom which we should seek in addition to intellect. In too many cases, we see people with obvious intelligence (and memory, especially with everything logged online), but not as often do we see actual wisdom, perspective, or a willingness to challenge oneself. Had a man like Babbage been more wise, we might have had computers by 1900 rather than 1950. Further, the name Ada Lovelace may be remembered for much more than a mere interpreter or (dare I say) cheerleader for Babbage’s work, but as a fully recognized pioneer in information technology of which she was more than capable.
Notes of the ‘Interpreter’
I made reference, above, to Charles Babbage shrugging Ada Lovelace off, despite their very close friendship and collaboration, as a mere ‘interpreter’ of his work. This flippant title was bestowed upon her due to her translation of a paper about Babbage’s Analytical Engine by an Italian mathematician, Luigi Menabrea (Lovelace’s translation can be found here). But in addition to translating the paper, she added 20,000 words or so of ‘Notes’ which give more detail and depth to Babbage’s ideas.
A new, a vast, and a powerful language is developed for the future use of analysis, in which to wield its truths so that these may become of more speedy and accurate practical application for the purposes of mankind than the means hitherto in our possession have rendered possible. Thus not only the mental and the material, but the theoretical and the practical in the mathematical world, are brought into more intimate and effective connexion with each other. We are not aware of its being on record that anything partaking in the nature of what is so well designated the Analytical Engine has been hitherto proposed, or even thought of, as a practical possibility, any more than the idea of a thinking or of a reasoning machine.
The “idea of a thinking or a reasoning machine.” This was written in 1843, but the fundamental ideas were older than that, possibly tracing back as far as the night when Babbage conceived of the idea of the Analytical Engine in December of 1834 when he explained the idea to three women, one of which was a 17 year old Ada.
Mind and Machine (skip this section if philosophy annoys you)
I have been thinking a lot recently about the so-called mind-body problem. I remember when I first was exposed to this philosophical problem, when I started reading philosophy around age 16 or so. I also remember, when I got to college, being surprised that people still thought it was a problem. I remember listening to people, usually Christians, that would defend a form of dualism, or at least of perceived difference, between their personal subjective experience and the seeming objectivity of the matter that was their brain. For many people, there really seems to be a disconnect here. I honestly don’t get it.
An illustration of Plato’s Cave
The idea that my subjective experience simply is what it is (like) to be my brain (well, my whole body really, but mostly my brain) seems intuitive to me. I don’t feel the disconnect between subjective experience and an objective (projected, really) external reality of ‘my brain.’ I recognize that the illusion is that separation, not either of the sides of the proposed dualism (I’m getting overly philosophical, I know).
This is why I understand idealists sometimes, I just think they are making the same basic error that dualists make–the conceptual distinction between subjectivity and where that subjectivity occurs. (stupid subject-predicate language making it really difficlt to express that idea!)
Some might balk at this and claim that they have no idea what it’s like to be a brain, but I will argue that this is all you know. You may say that you have never seen your brain, so you can only assume it exists, but this is disingenuous. You don’t literally see the light reflecting off of any surface of your brain, to be focused and sent to your brain for processing, but everything you think is your brain. You could use the same argument for the back of your head. You will never directly see the back of your head (this bothers me for some reason…). All of the light reflecting and refracting, entering your eyes, etc happens somewhere else. You are your brain, and so you have intimate knowledge of what it is like to be a brain.
Continuing with Plato’s cave as the basis for explanation, it is the (metaphorical) shadows on the wall–what Plato called the illusion– which are real. In other words, all that we ever really experience is our physical body. Our subjective experience is what it is like to be that body, experiencing the world. There is no separation of mind and body, because your mind is your body.
Believe it or not, this image (1839) was woven with silk on the first automated loom (first demonstrated in 1801) by Joseph-Marie Jacquard.
The looming question of AI (getting less philosophical)
Our brain is a machine. It’s a complicated machine and we don’t understand everything about how it works, but it is a machine. It is unlike computers we build, because we designed our computers to work in a different, logical, way (one that is largely based upon the technological ancestors of computer architecture, such as Jacquard’s Loom; the subject of the book I’m currently reading).
The bottom line is that our mind is a process which exists within matter–neurons and supporting tissue–within the brain. We are fully physical beings, made up of actual material stuff, like chemicals, atoms, and quarks.
There is no soul. There is no supernatural or dualistic spirit or soul here. There is no reason to believe that, and the very idea of dualism is fundamentally broken, in that to even talk about some supernatural substance has to steal from naturalism at very least, and that if it were truly separate, they could not interact (creating a more perplexing problem for dualism that I will not dwell on). Mind, put overly simply, is a process of matter arranged in a complex and delicate way.
And at some point, it may be possible to replicate this type of process artificially. Now, I’m not much of a transhumanist, at least in the sense of being overly optimistic (or pessimistic) about some potential Singularity which may occur at some point in the (near or distant) future, but I do believe that it is technically possible to create intelligence with computers, and I’m fascinated that Ada Lovelace seemed to foresee this possibility 170 years ago.
Learning from mistakes and successes
For those of you who are disappointed that I didn’t make any horribly misogynistic jokes about women and being artificially intelligent, fuck off. For those of you who see that our ability to progress–socially, politically, culturally, and technologically–is hampered by our inability to see past the mundane and conservative elements of our nature, then I gladly embrace you as a collaborator, no matter your gender.
We as a culture have come a long distance, and we have a long way yet to go. We must learn from our errors, yes, but we also must pay attention to when, and how, we succeed. Babbage didn’t succeed with his project to create an Analytical Engine in his lifetime because he was stubborn, unwilling to re-consider his abilities and deficiencies, and because some of the powers to which he was subject were more concerned with politics than the potential of human ingenuity.
Babbage dropped the ball in arguing his case for government funding to Sir Robert Peel (who was, it is agreed, already prejudiced against the project) in complaining about mistreatment and loss of reputation from people in his community. And yes, hindsight makes judging Peel’s refusal more biased for us living in a computer age. But it is worth remembering that rather than take the time to humble his admittedly great intellect and challenge himself to see the problem from another angle, or even to accept Lovelace’s suggestion to be his spokesperson in procuring funding for his work, he never succeeded in creating his Analytical Engine probably because of those faults.
But he left plenty of notes behind, and people used them. The eventual development of the computer was largely dependent upon the work he and his colleagues did in the middle of the 19th century. Imagine how much more, and better, they would have done had they not excluded more voices than they heard. Imagine how much Babbage could have accomplished had he not been so stubborn and, well, conservative (I realize the term ‘conservative’ in this context, is anachronistic).
Further, imagine how much we can accomplish if we all start being inclusive in all aspect of our social, cultural, and technological pursuits. Or maybe, it will take the Singularity to reach such inclusiveness, since so many people seem unable to escape their own tribalistic nature. And then ironically accuse others of tribalism. Much like the inseparability of mind and body, the great rift is the community. The problem, of course, is differentiating between the healthy tissue and the cancer.
When a community has some individuals with an un-drifting mission to merely replicate and spread with more concern for freedom than safety, while other parts listen to the world in order to to decide what to do and how to do it better, I think that is called brain cancer.
There are three new shows coming up this fall that I’m super-excited about. Agents of SHIELD, because Whedon! Blacklist, because Spader! And Masters of Sex, because duh, I’m a sexologist and Masters and Johnson were two of the most influential sexuality researchers of the 20th century.
The history of sexuality research is almost as fascinating as the study of sexuality itself. Pioneers in the field cannot help but wrestle with both personal and social implications of their chosen field of study — and in a field that’s less than two centuries old, in some ways every sex researcher is a pioneer, even to this day. The movie Kinsey gave a great look into the complicated interpersonal, social, and professional issues connected to choosing to be a sexuality researcher in a profoundly anti-sex world. I’m excited to see Masters and Johnson getting the same treatment.
I know a lot of people are curious about how accurate the show will be, and to help with that, I’m planning to review each episode weekly. (I’m notoriously bad at keeping this kind of regular writing commitment, but I’m hoping between my passion for the subject and the nagging of my housemates, I’ll get it done.) Most of my knowledge about the lives of William Masters and Virginia Johnson comes from Thomas Maier’s biography (also called Masters of Sex), which the show is also supposed to be based on. There aren’t a lot of other sources out there, particularly when it comes to Johnson, as I discovered when I was writing a paper on her last year. (I feel a strong natural affinity towards her for some reason.) As far as I’m aware the biography is pretty reliable: it draws from a wide range of sources, and while it gives a central interpretation of the characters, their personalities, thoughts, and motivations, it also includes other people’s differing perspectives and interpretations at many points. (It’s also a great read, if you enjoy biographies or are interested in sex research, and you should be!) So my accuracy commentaries will mostly be based on how true the show stays to the biography, with any additional information I happen to have thrown in.
To get you started, here’s a little basic info about Masters and Johnson (without giving away anything that will likely become plot points in the show.) They worked primarily in the 50s and 60s, a decade or so after Kinsey’s groundbreaking sociological research into human sexuality. Unlike Kinsey, they took a laboratory approach, using medical facilities and sometimes technology they’d developed themselves to measure physiological responses during sex in both male and female volunteers. Most of what we know about physical sexual response (apart from what’s obvious from the outside) comes from their work. Unsurprisingly, there was all kinds of secrecy, controversy, and scandal surrounding their work at various points. Their first and second books, Human Sexual Response and Human Sexual Inadequacy, are hugely important works in the history of sexuality research. (Their later books are increasingly less validated and less important.)
It’s a bad idea to make a hero of anyone, and Masters and Johnson are no exception. We owe them a tremendous debt in terms of our knowledge and understanding of sex, and they helped normalize many, many aspects of human sexuality that were previously stigmatized (like clitoral orgasm.) But they had a number of problematic areas as well, which I hope to see explored in the show. Their work on homosexuality was frankly terrible. And the entire working dynamic and balance of power between William Masters and Virginia Johnson is complex and often troubling. I hope the show digs deeply into the issues of feminism, research ethics, and power in the workplace that are entwined through their story.
So far, everything I’ve heard about the show tells me it’ll be great. I feel good about the casting, although of course both characters (especially Masters) have gotten the Hollywood Looks Upgrade. Stay tuned for more!
So, this is pretty awesome. I have spent many years reading about the history of religion, and i think that the subject is very interesting. I could have spent all of those years doing nothing except reading about religion, and still only scratched the surface of this:
Just a segment of the awesome.
That’s just a snapshot. To see the whole thing (and to zoom in and scroll around), click here or the image itself. The complex history and sheer number of religious traditions is astonishing to see displayed this way. I could get lost in this image for hours.
Perhaps it’s worth pointing out that the fact that we can categorize religious traditions into a tree says something about the nature of religion, and of human culture in general. Human culture, including religion, does not come out of a vacuum. Religion is not revelations from up high, it is natural, organic, and growths from us.
In one sense, religions are beautiful in that they represent not only what is amazing and sublime, but also what is terrifying and dangerous, about our ability to create and to interpret the world. They are windows into our “souls;” glimpses of what we could be–both good and bad. They are dreams and nightmares all at once, prying under our mundane lives into the engines of possibility.
And yet, for all that is good in them, there are paths which can clean up the mess and the grime attached to these fantastic reveries. There is a way to drain out the dirty water of fantasy and to know what is real, and as we advance in our understanding we learn more and more about how to do this. The growth of this religion tree will not cease, but it may be pruned by this method. There will always be branches of this religious tree, I’m willing to wager, but the branches which survive will have to contest with another tree.
Science, empiricism, and skepticism generally owe much of its existence to the intellectual traditions of this religion tree, but it is a different type of organism. Entangled, all too often, with this massive faith tree, skepticism takes root in a part of us which seeks to avoid the siren songs of Nietzsche’s old metaphysical bird catchers. That ground is fertile, but for many it is foreign soil. I hope that changes, because our culture needs better soil, if we are too grow, thrive, and survive.
So, once again I get to quote my favorite passage from Nietzsche, referred to above, because I think it encapsulates my values better than just about any collection of words I’ve yet seen:
To translate man back into nature; to become master over the many vain and overly enthusiastic interpretations and connotations that have so far been scrawled and painted over the eternal basic text of homo natura; to see to it that man henceforth stands before man as even today, hardened in the discipline of science, he stands before the rest of nature, with Oedipus eyes and sealed Odysseus ears, deaf to the siren songs of old metaphysical bird catchers who have been piping at him all too long, “you are more, you are higher, you are of a different origin!”—that may be a strange and insane task, but it is a task
This week I have done several rather difficult things and I think my brain might be ready to crap out on me at any minute…so of course I choose to blog.
On Monday, I worked myself to the bone until a meltdown happened and only gave myself permission to myself to stop both working and melting down after both Shaun and Wes had to tell me to stop folding laundry. There is little more pitiful looking than a scraggly haired girl in a tie dye dress weeping helplessly as she attempts to fold a pair of jeans. I curled up on the couch for a while and switched back and forth between staring at the ceiling and staring at the dog, who was staring at me and raising her hilarious ears as opportune times.
Indeed, I have been looking the part of the non-functioning depressive lately, putting off showers until late in the day and arriving places with wild hair, a skinny look to my face and a distinct inability to laugh at most things.
Except I can always laugh at the dog’s ears. They’re amazing.
Yes, she is dressed as turtle.
Yesterday, I fired my therapist before we had even begun because she was completely irresponsible, unprofessional, and patronizing. Sure, sure, maybe my standards are too high, but you know? Sometimes you just have to take a gamble and hope there’s something better. Please tell me there’s something better, because seriously I’ve about had it with the profession at this point.
Today I wrote a letter that I have needed to write for years but was too unhealthy and afraid to write it, let alone put it in an envelope and then take a special trip to the post office to physically put it in a mail box before I had a chance to back out. Family is hard, especially when you have spent 20-25 years not saying how you feel, what you want or what you need. I feel a bit like a hollow shell of a woman at the moment, but I know that this just means that I can fill it back up with the right things. I don’t know how the message will be received and I don’t know what will come of it, but at the end of the day I did something incredibly terrifying that needed to be done quite desperately.
And I’m proud of myself because I haven’t gotten any actual successful talk therapy, with the exception of my very competent friends and I have gotten myself to do these things. This is mostly because I am finally allowing myself to not be alone. Our problems do not exist in a vacuum. We must accept support when it is given from an honest, loving place and I have that in spades. How lucky am I?
As I made the final decision to push the letter into the mail slot, all I could think was:
And that might be true, but I think I am prepared now. I have plenty of water (especially in hot tub form), delicious food, supportive people, and of course an entire case and a half of homemade red wine.
Ok, yes, I know that’s a terrible philosophy.
But, sometimes it’s pretty fucking true.
Stop judging me.
Oh, you’re not judging me. You just want me to pour you a glass. Well, sure!
I mean…GET YOUR OWN.
Alright, I admit it. This entire post was just an excuse to look for funny illustrative pictures on the internet. I mean, that’s what the internet is for so I guess I’m approaching normalcy? Sure? Yes. I’ll take it.
Tomorrow is Thursday and I am hoping beyond all hope that I will have a mind that is functional beyond handling incredibly difficult and cathartic emotional activities. I’d say I can’t take much more, but that’s not true. I can take a lot more, but it would be nice to have a break, you know?
Then it’s Friday.
So, I’ll end with an obligatory Rebecca Black reference.
You’re welcome. OK. I think I’m done now. Can I go home yet?
Yesterday, I sat next to the pond for a while and read. There is a park in Collingswood. It has soccer fields, trees, and a pond. There are benches there to sit on, ducks, geese, and even some fish. It is a nice place to sit on a beautiful summer day. Those summer days will end, soon enough.
When spring came around, I yearned for the warm days and sunshine to be able to go outside. I dislike the cold. Hell, it’s summer still and my feet are still cold, so Winter is not my friend. And now as summer is nearing its end, I find myself feeling reflective and I think about aging and appreciating youth and health.
Autumn is beautiful. It is still warm enough, at least in the beginning, but I love the summer. The sounds, the smells, the warmth! And each year that passes I find myself more and more aware that all of this is temporary. I have not reached the point where I believe all is downhill from here. I have many healthy and vibrant years in me still to come. But I am more aware of the finite nature of life. And I must say that I think that I am now experiencing the full bloom of my summer, these last couple of years, and I hope that there are many more to come.
Anyone who thinks that without a god, or other transcendent perspective we cannot truly value life, is not thinking clearly. It is the limitations of life, its brevity, and it’s frailty that makes it valuable. I must keep reminding myself to not let all of this pas unnoticed or under-appreciated. I must keep reminding myself that this will not last, whether it ends happily or in great pain. There will be a day, hopefully many decades from now, when my consciousness will fade into the oblivion, and I will be no more.
But not today. Today I will go back to that park, sit next to that pond, and I will listen to the sounds, smell the scents, feel the breeze and warm sunshine on my face. I will watch the ducks (perhaps feed them a little) and I will know that geese are assholes. I will live today, and appreciate all that I have.
I appreciate all the wonderful people in my life. We all struggle, together, through this ultimately pointless life, creating meaning together. Except for those whom insist upon fabricating or perpetuating false narratives, we as a species are condemned to the reality together. I have no time to make up stories, as I have too much that is real to enjoy.
Therefore, I do not bow to theologies nor to mere social convention. I am capable of loving who I want to and believing what is true. I will not waste this short life pretending or lying to myself. There is too much that is true to keep my attention and appreciation busy.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have reality to enjoy.
Skepticism, Properly Applied 