Rough Day

I am my own person. I have a personality that is unique, and is no more influenced by others than anyone else's except in the fact that I am more open minded than many.

Why is this so hard to believe?

First, tonight, I was informed that I am gullible. Impressionable. Easily swayed by the will of others. I have no personality of my own, and I simply absorb the personalities of those around me. This will, inevitably, wind up with me becoming an apprentice to a serial killer, joining a cult, or killing myself when a man breaks up with me.

This was informed to me by my parents.

And then, when I sought validation that this was not the case from my significant other, I was informed that it was a "reasonable concern" on their part. In fact, said significant other in the past has expressed concerns about my lack of my own personality and the fact that I seem to simply become whatever those around me are.

I AM NOT GULLIBLE.

No, I don't have a unique fashion sense, so yes, I wear whatever people around me who I care about the opinion of tell me looks good. Want to know why? Because I DON'T CARE WHAT I LOOK LIKE, as long as I am not revealing too much for my personal comfort, I feel comfortable, and those around me consider me attractive. You know what else? I don't have a favorite color, really. I wear red because people tell me red looks good on me. So I say it's my favorite color because I wear it all the time. In truth, I don't give a shit what color I am wearing unless it is purple. I don't like purple.

So I'm not a fashion horse. I don't care if I express myself through my clothes. So what? I still want to look attractive, naturally, so I wear clothes that other people tell me look good. When I valued my mother's opinion on my appearance the most (read: no friends), I dressed as she wanted me to. When I valued my peers' opinion the most, I dressed as Vivacia wanted me to. Currently, the only person who I want to find me attractive is Ryter. So SURPRISE, I wear what Ryter says looks good. Do I have to have a fashion sense to be my own person?

And yeah, I listen to metal a lot now that I am dating him. I also still listen to country, and pop, and emo. Around him, I listen to metal most of the time because I don't want to subject him to music he doesn't like. I also listen to it on my own. Because he introduced me to metal. The truth is, I like music that has an effect on me. Metal has an effect on me emotionally. The music is emotional. For country and pop, the lyrics make me think, especially with story songs. For emo and some pop, I can't understand the lyrics anyway so I use it as background noise because it's not distracting. Different music serves different functions for me, just because I was introduced by someone in particular doesn't mean I am influenced by them, it means I share their taste in music.

My politics have always been my own. No influence there, at least not recently. Ryter and I disagree on McCain vs. Obama. He doesn't share the importance I put on sex education, science education, available and safe birth control and a reformed healthcare system. When it comes to politics, we have different priorities. I have different priorities from most people in my life.

And yes, I changed my career goal from "doctor" to "ecologist." Part of that was admittedly Ryter, in that I chose to become a doctor when I was convinced that no one would ever love me so it wouldn't matter that I wasn't going to be financially stable enough to have children until my eggs started to churn out clunkers. I have since realized that medicine is probably not the ideal career for me because I actually will be able to have children with a guy I love some day, and I'd like to do it before I am 30. In addition, it was pointed out to me that I don't handle stress well and I don't function well on very little sleep, and I'd like a career where stress on the job means a few weeks of studies get derailed instead of a person dies and then I lose my license because of malpractice.

Also, I hate willfully ignorant people. I'm not talking about people who have no access to education, that's not their fault and I can't hate them for that. I'm talking about people who are presented with evidence and ignore it or disparage it to fit their preconceived notions. I hate Creationists, and anti-vaccinationists, and HIV denialists. I hate anarchists and communists and fascists, and freegans and vegans (well, religious/moral vegans who don't try to pretend it's healthier or more natural are okay). I hate people who believe telling kids about birth control will make them have sex and people who believe kids who don't have sex education don't have sex. I hate people who think America has the best healthcare system in the world when that only applies to people who have good health insurance coverage, and everyone else gets screwed, resulting in our average life expectancy being lower than most developed nations (I will concede that for those with good insurance, it's probably the best you can get). I hate people who refuse to see reason under any circumstances because it contradicts what they want to believe.

This would not work well in medicine. I think I would stab a scapel into the heart of the first person I met who insisted vaccines were wrong while their toddler was in agony with pertussis. Not good for business.

This does not mean Ryter is controlling me. It means that I am learning who I am. Ryter doesn't care if a mother he doesn't know doesn't vaccinate their child. I do. It just happens that much of my self-discovery is coinciding with when I met Ryter.

I have a personality. I am both compassionate and passionate about causes I believe in. I am fiercely loyal to those who are loyal to me and I want to help everyone who cannot help themselves, and some who will not help themselves. I care intensely about the world around me and want to make a difference, and yet I know I am powerless in many ways, which disturbs me. I am silly and goofy at times, and angry at others. I am slow to warm up to people but will share anything once I am warmed up.

I like music that isn't rap, I like clothes that make me look beautiful to the man I love. I like dancing and singing, which I don't indulge in much for others' sake because I am not very good at either. I love to cook and love to see people appreciating food I have prepared for them. I love to learn about the medical world and read about the environment I would not do well in and yet can appreciate on an intellectual level. I like biological sciences and puzzles of biology and learning how the mind works. I like dark humor but not embarrassment humor, and I like good wordplay. I like technology and imagining the world of the future, I like anthropology and the history of human evolution, I like weird, rare languages and uncontacted peoples.

I like the outdoors. I like hiking and swimming and camping and skiing an riding horses on trail rides, but not in a ring. I like animals and plants and interesting fungi and stargazing and the process of forest decomposition and regrowth and encouraging life to grow on a petri dish, in a cage, in a garden, whatever. I like obscure and ugly animals and anything that lives it's life in the dark. I love viruses, as long as I don't have them.

I like to track diseases and find the patient zero and where they got it from, I like to rant about the way things should be versus the way they are versus the way they will be. I like drawing and sculpting and writing and attempting to recreate the images I see in my head for those around me, and for my own future reference. I like learning about religion and myth and why it exists and what it teaches us, and considering what my own beliefs are. And yes, I am a raunchy person and have my own likes and dislikes there too.

I don't like being around people that much, and I need a lot of down time to process everything around me. I don't like when people criticize my beliefs or try to correct me when I am not right or wrong, simply in disagreement. I don't like crowds or mosquitoes or taking pills every day, or unapplied math or sleeping in the heat or any time the air does not move. I don't like being interrupted, cut off, not allowed to finish a thought, not allowed to take a breath in conversation for fear of that being the case, or when people misinterpret my words, which happens often because I have a tendency to use words in a manner which is slightly unlike their normal use and not even realize it. I don't like roller coasters, horror movies, sudden movement in a quiet area or being touched by anyone I am not very comfortable with.

Not one of the above is influenced by Ryter, or anyone else for that matter.

I'm sorry, world, but I don't understand what the problem is. I don't see where I lack personality. I often change what ASPECTS of my personality I present to people, which is something I am actively attempting to change and which action I believe is what is leading people to believe I myself am changing. Well, no, I am not. I am simply showing you the real me instead of the custom-made-for-you me.

I can recognize when a person is attempting to control me and I will cut them out of my life as needed. I usually recognize it when they start to resent positive changes in my life and when they resent efforts on my part to reveal my true self to them. I can't really cut my parents out of my life yet. But I can still limit their exposure to me because they are a negative influence on my life. I know my parents want to control me, consciously or not, for a simple reason: They are resenting the changes in how much of me they see.

So please. Stop telling me that I have no personality of my own. I have one. I have likes and dislikes and values and priorities and they are all mine. I can recognize attempts to control me and circumvent them, except as regards my parents. No one's gonna talk me into smoking a joint, joining a cult, or eating human flesh and the fact that I have almost no friends outside Ryter has nothing to do with Ryter and everything to do with the fact that I am too shy to make friends or maintain a large social circle. I have almost always had one friend and built all other friendships off that, and right now, it's Ryter. Is it ideal? No. But it will not change any faster if I am living on or off campus, if I spend more or less time with him, or anything else. The only way that will change is if I can convince myself I care enough to change it. I don't care enough about it right now, I'm more concerned with school and my health and doing things I enjoy to change something which, while annoying, is not impacting my life except as a nagging "probably should get around to that" thought in the back of my head.

And if I am talking and talking and don't make sense, please, for the love of all that is good in this world, BE PATIENT. I have a point. But I don't think in words and phrases and I am trying to make connections between my brain and my mouth and convey how I am thinking, but if you interrupt me, you break my train of thought and then I can't finish it. I do have a point, I will get to it, but I do not have the communication skills needed to do so quickly. Please, just... be understanding.

Highland Games: 70% diehard Scots, 29% diehard Metal fans.* Go figure.

Last day of the Mercatus.

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Friday night after sunset was Yom Kippur, and since Ryter has a level of anti-religion backlash similar to that of former Christians thanks to a few years in Hebrew school he had mentioned he wanted to eat ham on the holy days. I complied, coming up with what I thought was the least kosher thing we could have prepared-- cheese dreams.

A cheese dream is usually bacon, tomato and cheese, melted over a piece of bread into ooey cholesterol goodness (I omit the bacon). Ryter doesn't like tomatoes, so I replaced them with a piece of ham. They were quite good, even if I do think that making them again before the next Yom Kippur may send him into cardiac arrest. Apparently Yom Kippur is also about fasting, which meant that the whole thing was even more sacrilegious.

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Saturday was the Highland Games up at Loon Mountain, and I had decided to take Ryter this year. I love the Games, I go every year I can, and I was hoping he'd like it too but honestly I was kind of expecting he would think it was boring or cheesy.

We got there a little before my family did and took the shuttle from the parking lot to Loon. As we had not eaten breakfast, food was the first priority-- specifically fish and chips for me (mmm, greasy fried fish from a fair stand first thing in the morning) and haggis and thumps for Ryter. Haggis is of course sheep's blood pudding and thumps is mashed potatoes mixed with cabbage. Keep in mind that Jewish law expressly forbids the consumption of animal blood and it was Yom Kippur.

He ate the whole thing and liked it (he wanted more, or to figure out how to get it at home) so he has become an honorary Scotsman and was christened Angus MacJewberg.

Anyway...

We met up with my parents, my grandmother, and my brother shortly after that and then looked around, checking out the Utilikilts and Threads of Time. Then we decided to go up the gondola to the top of the mountain and checked out the view. That was a lot of fun-- very pretty, less of a crowd and more of a breeze (or "stiff wind that nearly blew my skirts up," rather) so it wasn't as hot as at the Games themselves.

And once we went down again Ryter got to see the tail end of the caber toss and the Historic Highlanders, who were sword fighting at the time. We finally reconnected with my family later on for the sheaf toss (stick a pitchfork into a bag of oats and throw it over a 28-ft bar), which Ryter was very enthusiastic about and he cheered quite loudly for his favorites.

It was a lot of fun, and Ryter loved it. We had a little trouble finding our parking lot again, thanks to some bad info from the bus driver who brought us there, and then we wound up getting home later than hoped because we went out to eat with my family at Hart's Turkey Farm, but it was a great day and definitely what Ryter needed. It got him out of his apartment and doing something fun. He's also asking for a Utilikilt for Chrismukkah or Chrismahanakwanza, or whatever it is, which makes me happy because kilts are always sexy.

*Other 1%? Asian tourists, of course.

I Bet I Get Called Naive For This

I've noticed something, in reading online forums and in talking to people. Very few issues are as hotly debated as that of Israel and Palestine. Threads on this topic are more vehemently debated than gay marriage. I think this is because in any given group, people tend to be either staunchly conservative, staunchly liberal, or moderate and not particularly opinionated on subjects like homosexuality, feminism, racism etc. But 90% of the people who know more about the Palestinian-Israeli conflict than the name have an opinion on it, and your normal political alliances don't really apply-- it's not like conservatives are pro-Israel and liberals are pro-Palestine or vice-versa. If it's at all important to them, it's REALLY REALLY so.

Of course, the time to really worry is if they're truly, deeply passionate about it, because then they will be furious if you disagree. I've discovered a system for knowing when not to talk about the conflict:

-If you believe that Palestine is right, or that Palestine might have some decent points of grievance, don't talk to someone who is Jewish, of Jewish ancestry, or has ever expressed any anti-Muslim opinions.

-If you believe that Israel is right, or that Israel might have some decent points, don't talk to anyone who is Muslim, anti-Semitic, or a conspiracy theorist because WHY are 90% the conspiracy theorists anti-semitic too?? Must be because "the Jews control the banks and the media" and all that jazz.

This causes a problem for me, because since I am not part of a major religion and the one I was loosely raised as is secular Protestant, I actually have a much more impartial view than most people I talk to. I think both have grievances, because I believe that the UN had no right to make Israel a country all those years ago and encourage Jews to move there, so the Palestinians have a legitimate complaint, especially since many laws are biased against them. At the same time, that doesn't give them the right to terrorize the Jewish people any more than living there gives the Jews the right to "fight back." The Israelis have a legitimate complaint in that all their neighbors are ready to kill them, they're much more progressive and can better handle the land than most of the Palestinians, and they've been there for so long it's not fair to kick them out.

Besides, everything in the Middle East is tied up with religion. You can't kick anyone out. And they can't live together, clearly. At this point the two groups have pretty much equal claims to the land, whatever they may want to do with it-- and although I know Palestine would enact Sharia law, I still say that it was their land to begin with and they have equal claim to it.

If I were Empress of the World... I'd wall off all the major holy sites. Jerusalem especially. Completely wall it off. Then impose martial UN law over the land, saying it no longer belongs to any nation. Ban Jews or Muslims or anyone who is known to have a stong side in the issue from that military service. Set up a number of gates, all strongly policed, sort of like the Vatican-- make sure that if you want to get in you haven't a single weapon on you and no history of terrorism. Inside the walls, put soldiers everywhere, with non-lethal weapons.

Then, split the rest of the land.

Make sure there is a clear, protected road from whichever country doesn't contain Jerusalem to the city; then force a mass exodus. Tell people which area is which. Allow the governments to evict their enemies from their land. Make sure the land is divided by population and if you can, make sure they get comparable shares of the most fertile land. Will people be happy? No. Which is why you police the border like crazy and impose a major UN presence in the area for at least two generations.

Of course, this would hardly solve the problem but it would certainly hold of the inevitable. I would also pump aid money into this new Palestine with certain stipulations-- namely, that it has to go towards building schools and educating the populace (or as I would put it, "making sure you are at the same level or higher than your enemies so you can protect yourselves"), that it can't be used to manufacture weapons or it will ALL go away, and that all women must be educated under an improved curriculum until the age of 18, regardless of if they are married before then. Forcing them to educate their women or forfeit large quantities of aid would lead to a generally more educated populace, women marrying later (a man doesn't want a wife who has to go to school every day and can't watch his children), giving birth later, and hopefully getting a bit of empowerment thrown in with it all.

So clearly I can't just be Empress of the World, I also have to be God, because that's pretty much the only way this would happen. Ryter's probably right, just pull out of the region in a military sense, give money to the Kurds, and force major civil war that will drastically decrease their numbers.

Bah. Being an optimist is hard in this world.

How Erudite of Us

Today was the Brother's prom night, so we dolled him up and took a bazillion pictures. He was very patient, in his schmancy tux. A year ago, I was going to my senior prom... wow. That's kinda daunting. Only a year-- I feel like it's been so much longer...

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But this morning, before that, Shrewd took us over to David's Bridal so she could try on bridesmaid's dresses. I have to say, there is no place on earth with more estrogen than a bridal shop. Build-A-Bear pales in comparison, even. There were four males in the entire shop; one worked there and looked very effeminate, and the other three were nursing.

I've decided that the thing for me to do is have a Roman wedding. Girls get Grecian dresses, very pretty, guys wear togas and get to carry weaponry because that's the only way you get a guy into a toga when he's not going to get plastered with his frat, and at the reception, couches instead of normal chairs. Awesome, no?

Come on, TOGA WEDDING. How can you go wrong?

(PLus, togas are MUCH less expensive than tuxedos.)

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This evening, Mummy, Daddy, Shrewd and I went out to dinner and then to see Shrek III, which was not as good as either of the previous Shreks, but I hesitated to see Pirates because there was talk, a while back, of me and Ryter seeing that together.

But while the movie was bad, we had a very interesting conversation on the subject of weddings, specifically the cost (Daddy thinks he has to pay the full cost of my wedding, to which I said, "I'll pay at least half" and Mummy said, "You may not be able to afford it" and I said, "If I can't afford it I'm clearly not ready to get married," meaning, if I feel the need to have an extravagant wedding despite being unable to afford one I'm clearly not ready for the financial responsibilities that come hand-in-hand with getting married and potentially having children).

The talk of weddings must have annoyed Daddy (well, specifically, the fact that I was saying that I wouldn't let him buy me a house as a wedding gift [he was probably joking, but it's the idea that he feels the need to provide a wedding and gifts as a sort of dowry] and Shrewd said she didn't intend to marry at all), because he changed the subject, and we started talking about religion via a question about Ryter's last name.

Now, follow me here... Ryter has a very Jewish last name... my mom then made fun of me and my sister for "always chasing the Jewish boys" (not fair, Shrewd's at Brandeis, that's all there IS)... I pointed out that he's just Jewish in lineage, but actually Buddhist... she began to pepper me with questions about Buddhism. Because you KNOW dating a person makes you an expert on their religion, I mean really.

Still, we wound up having a very insightful, intellectual conversation on literalism in the Bible, mistranslations, the original texts and the omitted ones, like the Book of Esther, I think it was, which was apparently too feminist for Peter-- and how all of this has led my father to view the Bible as a whole with a skeptic's eye. He's Christian, but he understands other influences on the Bible. It was just the sort of insightful conversation we used to have around the dinner table before we started having dinner around the coffee table, watching TV.

Can't Spell Easter Without E, A, and T

Happy Easter everyone! As near as I can tell, this is a holiday celebrating when Jesus rose from the dead after being crucified. Jesus came forth from his tomb and went to Egypt, where he enslaved a bunch of rabbits and had them paint eggs, which he then took and started hiding in children's houses all over the world. Then Moses came and freed all the rabbits by taking them to Israel, where they were presumably consumed by Arabs on account of them's good eatin'. Now the pro-Jesus camp celebrates by hiding eggs and the pro-Moses camp celebrates by eating matzo, which is what Moses fed the rabbits.

Now that I've been condemned to Hell by the Muslims and the Christians and the Jews have decided I'm going to some place that is bad after death but they aren't really sure where on account of them not having worked out all the kinks in their afterlife yet (despite having 4000 years in which to do it)...

Maybe I should try studying holidays that are slightly newer than the Megalesia.

"The greatest danger could be your stupidity."

Some cool new links! Cute Jewess is a blog all about dating and life in general; more single-girl antics over at This Fish Needs A Bicycle. For weird stories, gadgets, and random stuff, check out Odd Planet; and for a mildly disturbing and yet often hilarious view of what college would be like if I went to LMU and if I wasn't... well... me, there's You Are Sketch. Check 'em out!

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Most of today was devoted to my Chemistry paper, which was miserable, on account of it being a four person project that I basically did alone. I didn't do all the research, but I was doing all the writing... Maritima sent her section, and was helping me, but one of the other girls sent me one sentence and the other waited until an hour before the class started to send her part. Grr. I did have time to do some last-minute English homework, though, which was good because it was already a day late.

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I went to the "Secrets" show put up by Christian Impact with Loquatia. Basically everyone's been writing secrets on little cards and putting a picture with them, and the end result gets put up in this gallery f secrets. It's all anonymous, of course. I'd say the most common secrets were:

-like to sleep naked (uhm, yeah, why is that a secret? who cares?)
-wish that someone thought they were beautiful
-masturbate
-doubt the existence of God/doubt their faith

But there were some that were less common, like liking it when a relative touched them inappropriately or told someone they were Christian to get into their pants. I'd guess the most common was the wanting to feel beautiful, though. I can understand that sentiment, I was going to do it myself except it's not really a secret that I want to feel beautiful. I don't have many secrets, and the ones I do have are scary enough that I refuse to admit them even to myself.

After we saw the gallery, Loquatia introduced me to her CI friends. Everyone was really nice, though I was still uncomfortable because they were people, after all (Some were boys, too, compounding the problem). It's mildly depressing to hang out with CI kids though because it kinda just reminds me that there is a definite social circle that you can get though being part of a religion-- any religion, just not Christianity-- and those are the people that are nice, clean-cut, and friendly. Well, usually. It kind of makes me sad that I won't really ever have that kind of social network that Christian, Jewish, and, in certain areas, Muslim people have just for being involved in their faith.

Oh well. It's kinda hard to join a group called "Christian Impact" if you aren't Christian and half the time you don't even like their impact.

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Ugh. I promised my RA that I'd write about a "defining moment" in my life for the next issue of our bathroom newspaper, the Hub'Bub. Alas, it appears that my life is ill-defined, as I can't come up with a single moment that doesn't involve talking about my depression. It appears I am not defined by happy moments. I don't know if he wants me to do something upbeat or if talking about depression is okay, but even then, chances are this is going to be the first time most of these people even hear (er, read) my name. Do I really want anyone to associate me with depression?

I think I might want to do when I overcame my fear of death. Does that sound defining?

How I Am In Love

I take a while to fall in love with someone. Trust takes time. I give completely and unconditionally in relationships. I tend to get very attached when I'm with someone. I want to see my love all the time. I love my partner unconditionally and don't try to make them change. I stay in love for a long time, even if I'm not loved back. When I fall, I fall hard.

How Are You In Love?

"He who hurries can not walk with dignity"

Today is sacred to the god Favonius, the gentle western wind. His Greek counterpart is Zephyrus. He was associated with plants and flowers. I have no idea why he has a holy day in the middle of February.

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So... it didn't go away. The knee pain, that is. I went to the doctor today. Got there about seven minutes early and expected to wait, but they ushered me right on in, and I got into the exam room before 11:15. This is good, I thought. I'll be able to get out of here and eat lunch before Bio lab.

But, no. Heaven forbid a Wednesday go well for me. No, I waited there for twenty-five minutes before the doctor came in. Then she looked at my knee, determined that it was swollen and tender, and then bent it-- and it released this "cr-cr-cr-crACK!" noise that sounded like a very loud version of cracking knuckles. Meanwhile the kneecap itself popped up, a few millimeters higher than it had been previously, and then settled down into the groove again. The look on her face was priceless-- she'd never felt that happen before. "Well, that's not normal," she declared.

She said that while that felt like a ligament snapping, the soreness and swelling seemed like a sprain or something. So in other words... she has no idea. Great. I'm supposed to ice it and take Motrin for the swelling, and they x-rayed it just in case, and I've got the ace bandage to stabilize the joint and crutches to keep off it in the hopes that it will heal if I don't pester it. I can handle all of that except the crutches. I take back what I said yesterday about limping around campus being miserable-- it's nothing compared to trying to cross slush-covered sidewalks on crutches. Besides, the crutches hurt my arms, and I'm usually exhausted by the time I get there... And then there's the stairs. I have grown to hate stairs in a very short amount of time.

Also... dining halls. The dining halls are not exactly handicap-friendly. Have you ever tried to carry a tray while on crutches? Yeah, not happening. I managed dinner today, using just one crutch, but I was precariously balancing things and holding the tray in one hand, petrified it would all fall. So tomorrow I need to get up at 6:30 to make sure I can go to breakfast with Loquatia, this one time-- Friday she doesn't have to get up to work, and this weekend I'm planning on getting a whole mess of Ramen/cereal/milk-type supplies so I can eat in the dorm if I can't find anyone to escort me to the dining hall. Fabulous.

And I had to call my parents, to let them know, lest I arrive home this weekend or next on crutches and offer them an unfortunate surprise... Mummy seems much more concerned about this than I am, naturally.

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Oh, and I found this. It amuses me muchly, since it's basically a mockery of religion... "WikiWrit: The Holy Book Anyone Can Edit!" Of course, this is funny because humans have been "editing" their holy books for years, which is why you really have to read them in the original language. This joke religion is just a little more obvious about it. It's fun. There are enchanted hobos.

I Am 50% Weird

Normal enough to know that I'm weird... But too damn weird to do anything about it!

How Weird Are You?

"Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves."

In the year 9 BC, on this day, the shrine commissioned by the Roman emperor Augustus was dedicated to Pax, the goddess of peace. It was erected in Rome's Campus Martius (heh, irony) and consisted of a marble altar in a walled enclosure, with many beautiful sculptures representing scenes from Roman legends and the dedication ceremonies. It's still there, apparently, at least in part, and is considered to be among the finest examples of Roman art.

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So I've been reading up on Scientology, just out of morbid curiosity, and I have something to say:

XENU??? ALIENS??? HYDROGEN BOMBS IN VOLCANOES??? What the HELL? I mean, I know that the whole Xenu thing is a less important part of the church's doctrine and that Hubbard was drinking and popping painkillers when he wrote the whole Xenu story, but come ON. This is why sci-fi authors shouldn't be allowed to start religions!!!

I mean, honestly, who converts to Scientology knowing that these beliefs are part of the doctrine? Plus anyone with a modicum of science education can see big ol' holes all through their "scientific basis" for the faith. I mean, at least I can see where the Christians were coming from, even if I don't believe- their religion was founded when there was need for explanations. We didn't really need to refute the Big Bang theory in the 1960's by saying that Dark Lord Xenu killed a bunch of people by exploding a volcano with an atomic bomb and then stealing their souls to brainwash them.

The scientologists combine all the crazy dogma of a cult with the annoying proselytizing of the worst evangelical Christians. If, for example, the auditors didn't often use the counseling as a mere excuse to push teachings, there would be good in this faith, but too often everything just becomes a chance for the church to get more power.

And that business about silent births? Personally, I'd rather I had an imprint in my "reactive mind" of joy and celebration at my birth, noises of laughter and happy and relieved tears, than of silence and forced calm. I'm just saying.

All right, I'm shutting up now. At least about Scientology.

I took an online quiz- a reputable one, too- on religion that said I was closest in my beliefs to Reform Judaism (actually, it said I was 100% Reform Jew, but that's because it didn't ask the kind of questions that would have shown the difference). It's said this before, pretty much every time. Unfortunately, the same thing differs me from Reform Judaism as differs me from every other religion- I believe that every faith comes from the same divinity, and the variations in faith come from either God backtracking and trying to correct the failings of free will, or from human interpretation gone terribly wrong. I guarantee you won't find many a faith that says "Every religion comes from God, the same God, but anything you hear in any religion is tainted by mankind's interpretation- including this one."

Basically, I believe that we're all going to be a little wrong no matter what and learning the truth is a question of learning as much about religion as possible, and finding the things in common- because if something is a common truth in all religions, chances are it didn't come from man, but from God's original message. Like "thou shalt not kill-" you'd be hard pressed to find faiths that condone murder of human beings. Thus, we can pretty much assume that that's not been mucked around with too much in the translation.

I'm sorry I keep leaking my faith out into this blog. I just got to thinking about religion today because we were talking about the concept of special creation in biology class. The professor's talking about opposition to Darwinian theory and he kind of had to address it. He seems to relish debunking Creationism and ID, though.

Don't get me wrong, I believe in evolution. Completely. I think that's how God created us. Not my point. See, the professor has this way of speaking about it that doesn't just say "Creationism and ID are religious viewpoints that are completely contrary to evolutionary evidence and can't be scientifically proven," but rather, "Creationism and ID are idiotic, antiquated viewpoints that deserve to be thrown out completely in favor of scientific theories, and anyone who believes them is an uneducated fundie redneck." Oh, and he refers to the special creator (in most religions, God) in a tone that so obviously says that he's an atheist, and he's going to think less of someone who chooses the divine explanation.

I'm an evolutionist and I think that creationism shouldn't be taught in schools. At least not public ones. But honestly? I was kind of offended. He's being completely intolerant! Some people are in that class because it's required for their major, and they might really be a creationist or in favor of ID. Most of that class probably at least believes in a higher power of some sort. I know he needs to explain that Creationism is not a valid counter-theory to evolution, but he could do it a little more tactfully. I never thought I'd be offended by pro-evolution comments.

My high school biology teacher had a good way of dealing with it. She said, "In this class I'll be teaching evolution. If you believe in creationism, that's your choice. I'm not asking you to believe in evolution, I'm asking you to understand the concept and it's importance to what we believe we now know about biology. If you feel concerned about something, bring it up with your religious leader and they should set you straight in regards to your faith-- I'm teaching what scientists believe."

I don't know. Maybe I'm being too sensitive about the whole thing-- I mean, you really can't understand modern biology if you don't believe in at least some parts of evolutionary theory. But he's got a bunch of freshmen, a good chunk of whom probably came from small towns that feared lawsuits and taught really crappy science, and he's asking them to completely flip everything they know on it's head, stop believing in what they've been told all their life, and do what he says, and he doesn't even have the decency to refer to their religious doctrine without scorn in his voice.

The least he could do is quit talking like God is a concept we should have given up with the Abominable Snowman and the Tooth Fairy.

Oh, and if you're curious, here's Penn&Teller's Bullshit on creationism in our schools: parts one, two, and three. Be warned, though, while they're interesting, they mock creation science at times. Then again, they're a show aimed at people who believe in evolution. If you want creationism or ID to be taught in public high schools, it's officially required reading.

A Crisis of Whatever

Oh, hey, it's Saturnalia! I haven't been checking my Roman calendar much lately, so I didn't mention it earlier, but Saturnalia started on the 17th. Saturnalia was a festival honoring the god Saturn/Cronus, the father of the great Olympians.

The festival lasted from the 17th to the 23rd, and consisted of some public religious rites, but also a school holiday, the making and giving of small presents, and a special market. They legalized gambling for the week, even for slaves, but that wasn't saying much since gambling wasn't exactly rare the rest of the year. There was much feasting and merriment.

They also basically excused slaves from punishment and let them treat their masters with disrespect, and the masters either served their slaves a banquet, ate with them, or allowed them to have one before the masters' own. Everyone wore casual clothes, not togas, so it further blurred the master/slave boundary. One person was elected master of ceremonies and directed the partying in his circle.

Saturnalia is a source of many Christmas traditions common in the middle ages- masters and servants switching places for the day, a master of ceremonies, that sort of thing. This major holiday was probably why it was decided that Jesus was born in late December, despite there being pretty much no evidence of any time of his birth- I mean, at his birth, even if you believe in him, he wasn't known to be a prophet of messiah or whatever you think he is. So they didn't really record anything. But the early Christian leaders weren't stupid, they knew that the best way to get people to stop celebrating the pagan holidays was to replace them with events that happened at the same time and were kinda similar in nature. Luckily, there were a lot of holidays that fell at around the same time, in different non-Christian religions, so lots of birds with one stone.

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Speaking of Christianity, interesting thing happened today. I was working at the register and a customer noticed my necklace- my prayer box necklace that my little cousin gave to me- and started asking me about it. "What's in your little box?" she asked. "My daughter has one like it."

"Oh, it's a prayer box," I explained. "You write your prayers on little slips of paper and put them inside."

"Ah, yes, that's what my daughter's is too- but hers is a little different. where did you get it?"

"My little cousin gave it to me for Christmas one year," I answered, omitting the fact that said little cousin is almost a teenager at this point.

"Oh... Are you Catholic? Do you know if those are mostly a Catholic thing? I heard they might be."

Uhm... okay. Here's the thing. First of all, I'm not positive what religion my aunt, uncle, and cousins are, just that it's Protestant and I don't think it's Baptist. I want to say Methodist, but that's irrelevant. The thing is, my cousin is really active in her church and sings in the choir and all- and I know that whole family looks down on ours. I mean, my aunt was a born-again Christian, and my mother- her sister- is an atheist. Meanwhile Shrewd knows more about what she doesn't beleive in than what she does (though I don't think she considers herself atheist anymore) and I'm... well, I'm complicated. Now, I don't think that my cousin understands that I'm not Christian, because I doubt that's the sort of thing my aunt and uncle would talk to her about. She at least should know that I'm not as religious as her family is. But I still kinda felt like giving someone a prayer box is essentially saying, You should put your faith in my God and my religion, and be more religious, like me. It's a bit like giving a cross pendant. A lovely gift, if you know for sure that the person is a Christian and will appreciate wearing their religion around their neck.

But I beat the system. I wear the box and I even put prayers inside of it, though they aren't serious prayers for the health and happiness of my family- those I say myself, since anything important ought to be said in person, and not written down. Right now my box contains prayers for success in school and for a Prince Charming to come along. Things that I could accomplish on my own with minimal divine intervention if I had the nerve and made enough effort. Still, they're prayers. They're just to a radically different god than the one the box was originally made for.

Anyway, back to today, and the conversation. It kinda went downhill from there. I told the woman, "Oh, my cousin is Protestant. It's not just a Catholic thing," thinking, It's not just a Christian thing, and she said, "Oh, good... Are you religious yourself?"

Uhm, lady? I don't even know you, I'm the girl who's ringing up your wrapping paper at 25% off. Why are you getting into a theological discussion?

"Oh, no, not really... My dad's Congregationalist, but we never really go to church," I answered, deciding that I would not explain the complexities of religion in my family to a total stranger, nor would I let her know that I was not only not Catholic, but not Christian at all, since she seemed the sort to smile sympathetically, offer some story about how Jesus saved her, and inform me of services at her church of choice with an excellent pastor who could "help me through my religious turmoil."

In fact... Next thing you know she's standing there talking about this Christian camp thing that she went to, and how "most of the people who go there have already had some horrible event in their lives, but really, you shouldn't wait that long," and I'm thinking, Right, because there's no way that a 19 year old could have already had horrible events, like, you know, a suicide attempt, and she's telling me how the experience changed her forever and made such an impact on her life and I should look into it, really, if I want to get in touch with my faith...

Meanwhile I'm trying to figure out when she's going to leave. I was trying to be nice and smiley and friendly but honestly, it was getting hard. I mean, come on... Maybe I should have just said "Oh, I'm not Christian," but I think that would have dragged out the conversation longer, and ended up with her suggesting that I correct my "crisis of faith" at her church. Because honestly, that's what everyone says. I say I'm not Christian. They ask what religion I am. I say I have a collection of beliefs that are hard to explain and that don't fit into an organized faith. They assume that means I'm looking for a faith, specifically theirs, and start suggesting that I check out their church/temple/whatever.

But honestly? I am actually pretty religious. My faith is mine alone, but I adhere to my beliefs stronger than many Christians and Jews I know (I'd say Muslims too but this is New Hampshire, we have like ten Muslims total, and fewer of any of the other religions). And the important things- a strong moral code that fits with most of my society's customs, a sense of right and wrong, and a general sense of personal self-worth and acceptance of life and my place in it- that's all covered. I'm not in the market for a new faith, though I am in the market for followers, that'd be awesome. Starting a cult is twenty-third on my list of Things To Do To Ensure Immortality Among Geeks, and that's a joke, so no hate mail, please.

I talked about this for a long time with my sister and what we concluded was this: One of the central themes of our morality training as children is that it doesn't matter what you believe, so long as you're a good person. For me, being a good person is defined as following the five most basic morals in the world: Don't kill, love/protect/nurture your family, honor your vows, respect your fellow man, and care for your body and your soul. #4 is pretty significant here- because part of it's definition is "don't judge if you disagree."

I respect the beliefs of even the crazy uber-Christians. I agree with some of their beliefs, even. But the fact that I respect them is cheapened by the fact that they don't respect me, and think I am incapable of creating my own belief system without a church to guide me. So it doesn't matter what they believe- as long as they're a good person... which means that it doesn't matter what they believe, as long as they respect me. And everyone else.

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Oh, and I bought Harley Quinn. She is AWESOME. And bald. She's a bald Barbie. That makes her AWESOMER.