Obligatory Holiday Post

Click to enlarge

As the end of the year quickly approaches, I decided to make another graph for you, Imaginary Readers, to illustrate how I think about years. It shows stress as a function of time, and it clearly depicts the year as a periodic function with a period of roughly a semester. The school year is just the calendar year phase shifted by negative three months, roughly. This is important, because even though 2011 is about to end, I am in the middle of the school year, so it doesn't feel like a new year; it just feels like a new semester.

It's difficult to think of the past year as anything more than the past semester, which was the best/worst semester so far, but it was more than that, because this past year also included the previous semester and May Term and the summer (yes, I did just define a year). A lot happened, and I know that this past year was pretty good, overall, but the way the school year is structured makes it difficult for me to view December as the end of the year. I am so entrenched in the academic system right now, that the semester seems to be the only possible organizational structure that matters, at least is matters much more to me right now than an arbitrary dating system that doesn't make much sense anyways. (I think they could have come up with a better calendar system than just picking how many days will be in a month seemingly at random. Some months have 30 days, others 31, but they don't perfectly alternate, and February can't decide if it wants to be weirdly short or just really short.)

So, on that note, here I am at the end of another semester. A lot happened in the past four months, both personally and academically, the details of which I will not bore you with in this post, Imaginary Readers, because you probably already know them (I am going to stop whining about that now, promise). And now it's the holidays, which are good, if somewhat of a family overload, after which comes the better part of a month which I have historically spent bored and wanting to go back to school, because at school I have things to do and people to do them with, which, not counting my family, I don't have at home. I don't want this year's break to be like breaks have been in the past where I spend it sitting at home feeling sorry for myself, because that's boring and I'm done feeling sorry for myself. After the New Year, I do have some stuff to occupy myself with: people who are still in town and my research. I just have to get through the rest of this week without imploding from boredom. At least my family got a kitten a couple of months ago whom I can play with. Because kittens really do make everything better.

Cell Bio Win!

This is what happens in every one of your cells all of the time! This is exactly why the biological sciences are so awesome!

The full version of this is eight minutes, but for your sake, Imaginary Readers, I only posted the three minute version. If you like it, you should go YouTube the full version, because it is epically awesome.

Oh! The Places I've Been

Stuck in a Lurch

When I was in ninth grade, I copied out the full text of Dr. Seuss' Oh! The Places You'll Go, and I've carried it in my wallet ever since. After the better part of five years, it's a little worse for wear, but I still have it with me. It's my favorite book, out of everything I've read (which isn't saying much: I have read quite a few Star Trek novels, which are not known for their quality), because it's about life, in a really concise, rhyming way. Ultimately, it has a hopeful message, but it doesn't pull punches, which I think is why I like it so much. 

For a long time, my favorite line from it was possibly the most depressing passage in the entire thing:

I’m afraid that some times you’ll play lonely games too. Games you can’t win ‘cause you’ll play against you. All Alone! Whether you like it or not, Alone will be something you’ll be quite a lot.

I can't tell you how many notebook pages I covered with those lines in high school. The sentiment of it really resonated with me at the time, and to a certain extent still does, because I have always been aware of my issues with feeling my feelings, and because I didn't have anyone in my life who I was willing to really try to be close to, I spent a lot of time feeling really isolated and alone. It was comforting to me for someone (Dr. Seuss) to tell me that was okay; that maybe I wasn't as different from everyone else as it seemed. But that was just an excuse, in a way, to not deal with the things that were making me feel so isolated; the things that I'm just starting to deal with now. Because it was so much easier not to deal with my issues; to not get close to people, and just continue on by myself, like I always had.

I have this very clear memory of being about eleven or twelve years old and thinking that I was probably gay, but then deciding not to deal with it, not to figure out what that meant, and who I was at that time. And then I proceeded not to continue not dealing with it for several years, until I consciously could not allow myself to no longer deal with it, and I had to admit it to myself. I think that was the moment that I stopped dealing with my feelings, when I started suppressing everything and always being okay, even when I wasn't. Because in that moment, I made the conscious decision to not deal with something fairly important because it was easier not to, and once the precedent was set, it was so much more difficult to go back and unravel the mess that I had made than to continue to not deal with things. I took the easy way out, and it worked for a long time, because I had nothing else so big to deal with that I couldn't just pretend to be okay, and I got really good at pretending to be okay.

And now I'm finally starting to deal with my feelings, and going back and cleaning up some of the mess I made, to the extent that I can. But the only reason I'm doing so now is that I've finally had things happen that have made me realize that I can't go on not dealing with things. I want to be friends with [Львица], I am friends with her, but I don't want it to be weird, what with everything that's happened, which means that I have to work through all of my feelings for her and about what happened. I know that if I don't, if I just pretend like everything's fine, my usual modus operandi, I will lose her completely, because I won't be able to really be friends, I'll just pine for her and that's not good for anyone. I want to be able to look her in the eye and honestly tell her that I'm okay, with all of it, and with everything that happened. I want to be able to see her in that dress without it making me feel weird for the rest of the night, and then feel bad about feeling weird. I don't want the fact that we dated for a bit to define my relationship with her, because it is so much more than that to me. 

And so, attempt to deal with it I have, and am, even though I have no idea what I'm doing. It's difficult for me to reconcile the inherently irrational nature of emotions with the part of me that needs a rational explanation for everything. I've been trying to let myself to really experience my feelings, and not try to suppress them, and I've been trying to talk to people about it, and I have talked to [Totally A Cat] some, as well as [Keeper of All Knowledge] and [Fuckin' Magnets], which is a really big deal for me, given that I normally never talk about my feelings with anyone.

And it is helping, I think. The past couple of weeks have been better. I've been feeling more like myself, and the ratio of good days to bad days has greatly increased. I know that time heals all wounds and all that, but I'm trying to prevent the build up of scar tissue in this case. I am trying to be a mature, functioning adult about this, and behaving the same way as I did when I was twelve when presented with something that scares me and is difficult to deal with is not the way to accomplish that particular goal. I'm attempting to use this whole thing to grow as a person (like a plant), but that just complicates things because I'm only just realizing what a mess I've made for myself. I feel kind of lost, like I have no idea what I've gotten myself into, or how I'm going to sort it all out. Once again, Dr. Seuss says it much more articulately (and much more rhyme-y) than I can:

 You will come to a place where the streets are not marked. Some windows are lighted. But mostly they’re darked. A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin! Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in? How much can you lose? How much can you win?

I'm out of my depth with this whole dealing with my emotions thing, but I know, or at least I hope, that will change as I get more comfortable with it. In many ways I'm still twelve, because I haven't really emotionally matured since then, so I've got a lot of catching up to do, and I'm trying to cram it all into a couple of weeks and expecting it to work like that. I have so many awesome people in my life right now, and I feel like I owe it to them to get my shit sorted out and not wallow in my pain or pine after something that's not going to happen, so that is what I'm trying to do. It's just been more difficult than I anticipated. But I'm trying not to let that deter me.

Comic Book Wednesday: Nerd Culture

This article has been making the rounds recently (I qualify seeing two people link to it on Facebook as making the rounds), and for those of you who didn't read it, it's about male privilege in nerd culture and why it's a bad thing for geeky girls. The author makes some good points about how the geek culture caters nearly exclusively to men, particularly in the comics and videogame sectors.

I've already discussed my feeling on the portrayal of women in comics, which relies on arguments that the article dismisses as products of male privilege, which does have some merit, but I still think that comics are a business, and should not be vilified by for catering to their primary audience.

Anyways, my feelings about female comic book characters aside, the main gist of the article is that many women are alienated by the geek/nerd community because they are treated differently, and often weirdly, by the community because they are girls in a traditionally male only space. This is a fair point, and his arguments about why this is a bad thing are pretty solid.

I found this whole issue somewhat interesting, because while I know it's true to a great extent, it is fairly far removed from my experience in the nerd community as a female comic book fan (if you didn't get that by now, Imaginary Readers, you have obviously been skipping Comic Book Wednesdays, for shame, I am currently shaking my head disapprovingly at you). Only one on occasion have I ever felt like I was treated differently because I'm a girl at a comic book shop, and that only entailed a guy assuming I was buying manga rather than mainstream American comics because I was a teenage girl. I wasn't particularly offended by this assumption, because it seemed to me that The Source's extensive manga collection was what drew in most of their teenage girl clientele. Maybe that was my own concession to male privilege, but it does seem to me like making an assumption based on observed patterns is not necessarily sexist, it's just pattern recognition.

It is true that most times I have been in a comic shop, I've been the only girl there, also, very often the only person under 40, but it's never bothered me. Granted, I've never been totally immersed in the culture, as my interest in comics seems to follow a sinusoidal pattern with a period of about 2 years. And The Source, the store where I've primarily gotten my comics, is a mixed comics and games shop, so it serves a more diverse clientele than say, Big Brain, the exclusively comic book store I pull from when I'm at school, where I've only ever seen one other human being aside from the guy behind the counter.

I can't honestly say the male privilege isn't a problem in the nerd community, it's just something that I've never really experienced (at least to my knowledge; I'm not the most perceptive person). You should definitely read the article, because, if nothing else, it's food for thought.

Greeting Seasons

It's December, Imaginary Readers, and it has been for a couple of days now, much to my confusion, because in my head it was just Halloween. And, as always, with the start of December, winter decided to rear its head. Actually, winter was a little late in coming this year, with only one meager snow fall in November, and it actually being temperate on Thanksgiving. Usually, it's solidly winter about half way through November, but not so this year, as it didn't really get cold (below 25 F (or -4 C)) until this week.

It's rarely actually this pretty. Snow in the city is mostly just gross (via)

I have mixed feelings about the winter. It is infinitely better than the summer, which is mostly due to my intolerance of heat and humidity which make me feel claustrophobic and irritable. I like the cold weather and I love it when it snows, because walking during a snow fall is just plain magical, but winter does get a bit long for me. December is great, and it should be snowy and cold on Christmas, because there do need to be some benefits to living in Minnesota. January is fine too, despite the inevitable spate of -10 F with -20 F windchill (that's approximately -23 C with -29 C windchill for those of you who understand the inherent superiority of Celsius over Fahrenheit because why the fuck would water freeze at 32 degrees and boil at 212?), because it's January, and that's how it's supposed to be.

But then, somewhere around the middle of February, I get tired of it. I get sick of the bitter cold that makes it impossible to warm up and requires 12 layers of clothing to not freeze to death; I get sick of everything being so covered in ice that it takes me twice as long to get anywhere on foot; I get sick of having to sleep with my socks on to keep my feet from freezing, because I don't really like wearing socks to being with, so wearing them to bed is one of my least favorite things to do (it just feels weird and unnatural). I just feel like it should be spring, or at least be somewhat warmer, by late February. Unfortunately, this is not generally the case in Minnesota, where it doesn't usually feel like spring until midway through April.

I love the seasons (expect for summer which can go die in a hole somewhere) and I don't think I could live somewhere that didn't have snow on Christmas for any length of time, but the winter here gets long. And while I don't hate the winter, I am always sad to see it start, because it means the end of autumn, which is by far my favorite time of year. It's cold enough to sleep without being life threatening, and I can break out my wonderful collection of striped long sleeve shirts. I just love the way that fall feels, and so it's always bittersweet to see the autumn turn into winter.

(via)

The good things about December are snow and Christmas, my absolute favorite holiday, second only to Arbor Day (just kidding, not one care about Arbor Day), but December also means non-stop work leading up to finals. My professors like to take our normal work load (which is soul crushing at best) and add onto that another midterm exam, a bunch more homework to prepare for the final, and then a final project/paper/exam. And I have to do all of this immediately after Thanksgiving break has sucked all of my motivation away. That's the problem with the end of the semester for me: I have lots of work to do in preparation for finals, but I don't care in the slightest about any of it. I always manage to get through it with my GPA intact, but, for such a magical time of year, it is really damn annoying.

Comic Book Wednesday: My Origin Story

Beware the power of CBW

I know that you have all been clamoring for the return of Comic Book Wednesday, imaginary readers. You've been reading this blog and wondering why I haven't discussed comics in lieu of my feelings in recent weeks. In truth, it's not because I haven't been reading them, there is a whole stack that I've read and am now waiting to get back from [Princess Leia Vampire], it's just that there is only so much I can talk about without doing reviews, and I don't think any of you are particularly interested in irregular reviews of the four titles I read. (So many commas in that last sentence; have fun parsing it).

So, I have decided to resurrect CBW, much like Jean Grey, this week as a welcome break from the depressing slog of my feelings/personal life which most of the recent posts have consisted of, but, because I do enjoy talking about myself (hence the feelings/personal life posts), this weeks CBW will be my origin story (read: how I got into comics). (Holy Parentheticals, Batman!).

I was alway a geeky child, with interests running towards fantasy and PBS from an early age. This should surprise no one. While other girls my age were having slumber parties and talking about boys (I presume) I was in my back yard duct taping lengths of PVC piping together to make swords or in my basement hot gluing pieces of felt together to make sheaths for said swords. They were awesome swords, and I probably made about half a dozen in total. I think that [BrotherBorg] still has some of them.

Around the age of ten I started spending inordinate amounts of time at my local library, and I would check out VHS tapes of old TV shows, most of which were British sit-coms, because, like I said, PBS. This lead to my discovery of episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation on VHS, which I immediately fell in love with. I quickly became obsessed with Star Trek in all of it's various incarnations, and decided that instead of actually watching any of the series all the way through, I should just read the novels/ fansites/ any other piece of content I could find. I ended up reading every Star Trek graphic novel/collection my library had, which wasn't many, but did serve to introduce me to comics, although I didn't quite like the format yet.

After about a year of being obsessed with Star Trek, [Nightcrawler] introduced me to the X-Men via X-Men: Evolution and the movies. I was instantly in love with the X-Men, which mean that I needed to consume every bit of content that existed pertaining to them. Once again, my library came to the rescue, as they had, and still have, a fairly large collection of graphic novels and trade paperbacks (collections of individual issues of comics). I quickly consumed every X-Men book they had, by which point I was pretty well bitten by the comic book bug. This lead to me reading every comic I could get my hands on, which an emphasis on Marvel comics, but a good helping of DC and Vertigo title as well.

This book is real and the most awesome thing ever written

After I had exhausted by library's collection of interesting comics, I started going to my local comic book shop (The Source Comics & Games for anyone interested) which was conveniently located two blocks from my house, and which I was familiar with due to my Pokemon card habit from a couple of years earlier (unfortunately, they are not paying me to shamelessly plug them). I spent countless hours there digging through back issues and reading trades (trade paper backs). Soon, I was reading weeklies and pulling multiple titles each week. This lasted throughout middle school and well into high school, although the number of titles I read continued to drop until I was only reading one or two books a month. I cancelled my pull sometime in 11th grade, and didn't reestablish another one until this year. It just got too difficult to keep up with the ever changing universes and events, as well as becoming prohibitively expensive, but I will always have a special place in my heart for Marvel and DC.

And that is how I came to be a comic book nerd. This is only a partial account though, because it is all tied up with libraries and Star Trek and my friendship with [Nightcrawler] and so many other stories which I don't have time to tell right now and that all have parts to play in my childhood and adolescence. The moral of this story is that comics are awesome.

Walk It Off

I love to walk. It's something I picked up from the [Paternal Unit], mostly because he likes to go on walks, and I am the only member of my family whose willing to go with him because unlike [SisterBot] I don't have a social life when I'm at home, and unlike [BrotherBorg] I do enjoy leaving the house on a regular basis. [Paternal Unit] is the reason that I've walked around all the of the lakes in Minneapolis and a good portion of those in St. Paul, and also the reason why I enjoy aimlessly walking. This summer, while in the grips of the restless ennui that the month of August engenders in me, I took to walking around Como Lake and the surrounding neighborhood whenever I couldn't stand to be in my house any longer. Walking calms me down when I'm upset and helps to syphon off some of the anxiety when I get tense. I think best on my feet, and it gives me an chance to sort out my thoughts.

Unfortunately, Como Park does not actually look this cool at night (via)

I was home for the holiday weekend, the first I've spent any amount of time at home since school started nearly three months ago. I couldn't stay still at home. I was restless, emotionally claustrophobic, and really damn anxious. I'm no stranger to anxiety; it crops up in my life from time to time due to a variety of things and every time we have a stormy spring, but it's usually linked to something specific, like severe weather or having to use a Bunsen burner, whereas the anxiety I've felt over the past couple of days is more general. It hasn't been really bad at any one time, it just seems closer to the surface than normal. Maybe I'm just more aware of it because I'm trying out this whole "being in touch with my emotions" thing, which is exhausting, by the way.

Anyways, it came to a head Friday night, and I just couldn't sit still any longer, so I left. I just went, and I ended up walking around Como Lake until my foot hurt and my knees ached, but I felt better. The lake is pretty at night and quite different than it is during the day when swarms of people are there. I ended up coming back to campus Saturday night due to the desire to actually be productive on Sunday as well as family stuff that meant that I wouldn't get back until the late afternoon on Sunday if I stayed at home for the night. Once again the restlessness and boredom reared their heads, and I ended up making a giant loop around the nearly empty campus. I ended up by the Institute for Child Development, which lead to the discovery of the walking/biking bridge across the river. I had seen it before from the 10th Ave. Bridge, but I didn't know where to access it, so it was a pleasant discovery.

I like it enough, that last night, after far too many hours at Walter Library (I really need to find a new place to study, eight hours in one day is unfortunate) I decided to go out of my way to use the walking bridge to cross the river in lieu of the Washington Ave Bridge. When I got across to the West Bank side, I noticed that if I took a right instead of the left that would take me back to my dorm, I would be in the small Bluff Street Park. There was a bike/pedestrian path that lead down out of site to the river. I decided to see where this path went, because I was enjoying the walk and I didn't want to go back to my dorm room and [Random Roommate #2] just yet.

The new 35W Bridge, for reference (via)

I ended up standing under the 10th Ave Bridge by the river. The 35W Bridge was lit up blue above me, framing a view of the river with the Stone Arch Bridge and what I think is the St. Anthony Fall Laboratory internally lit with soft, warm incandescence. The Gold Medal Flour sign blinked red from downtown, in sharp contrast to the cool blue of the bridge. It was beautiful in that way that only the city can be, and it was still, with only the occasional car on West River Road to disturb it. I felt really peaceful for the first time in a while, standing there, watching the lights and the river and the bridges. I could have stayed there all night, but after about ten minutes I managed to tear myself away and go home, mostly because my ears were getting cold. Right now, at least, it's probably my favorite spot in the city, and I'm tempted to go back during the day to look around a little bit, but for now, it's one of those places that seems to only really exist at night, all lit up with nobody watching.

Sidenote: I know some of you, imaginary readers, are currently yelling at me through the space-time vortex that is the internet because I shouldn't be walking around campus alone after dark. You do have a point, but I'm not going to listen to you, because I love it too much, as previously discussed here. I'm pretty careful, and if it comes down to it, I'm not afraid to pop someone's eyeballs. Also, I have fairly odd standards of physical safety. I'll be up half the night because of hypochondria fuelled anxiety due to a menstrual cramp (this happened last night) but I will gladly walk out into the middle of the street expecting cars to stop for me (I have the right of way, dammit!). So no, I will not call an escort to walk me across campus at nine at night, that would just ruin the effect. Just be happy I've stopped walking home at one in the morning.

Disclaimer

It has recently come to my attention that persons mentioned by pseudonym on this blog have found it, and are not happy about certain comments concerning them that I have made. You know who you are. It is you're right to not be happy with me, but please keep in mind that everything I say in this space are my personal opinions, and that everything I say here is said under the unselfconscious assumption that no one actually reads it. I know that this is not justified, seeing as this is the internet and everything is public. This is why I don't use my real name, and I have changed everyone involved's name to easily recognizable pseudonyms. And I know that I can't expect you to never have found this blog, because I do link to in on my Facebook page, and it's linked to in several other spaces, etc, but the reason I don't advertise it by telling everyone about it and says "read my blog," is because I want to be able to be honest in this space, and not worry that something I say might offend someone. I understand that you are offended, which is your right, but understand that I have said nothing that I don't believe, and that I am not trying to be mean. Nothing was said with malicious intent. The things I share here can be quite personal, which is hard for me to do, and are often the things that I don't normally tell people. I will continue to be honest in this space, about what I feel and what I see, so please understand that anything I have said have nothing to do with you personally. If you continue to be angry with me, please confront me in person about it, because not talking about it never got anybody anywhere, and I would rather deal with any issues you have out in the open. This is not an attempt to be passive aggressive, or to avoid actual conflict.  This is just my attempt at a little damage control.

Emotions 1001

I suck at friendship. I'm not saying that to be self-deprecating, or to garner sympathy, it's just that when I look at myself, I realize that my inability throughout most of my life to make and maintain close friendships is more likely my own fault than the fault of the people who I have tried to be friends with.

I've been doing a lot of self-reflection lately, due to the fact that it is the only way I know how to deal with  pain, and the thing that keeps coming up for me is the fact that I don't know how to be emotionally close to someone. I don't tell people things about myself. I mean, I can talk about myself in conversation at length, but then I rarely say anything real; anything important. And it's not that I don't want to; it's not that there aren't people in my life who I think have earned the right to know things about who I am and what makes me up, who I want to tell those things I don't tell anyone, but I can't. As soon as those things come up, as soon as someone wants to know how I'm really feeling, I shut down. My mind goes blank, and the words disappear, and I just can't bring myself to do it. To say it out loud. This is one of the main reasons I stayed in the closet for nearly two years after I realized that I'm gay. It wasn't that I feared the rejection of my friends and family, it was that I didn't know how to tell them something so personal.

It hasn't been until the last year that I've felt like I actually have people in my life who qualify as close friends, people who I really trust and am completely comfortable with. And yet, now, when I really could use some emotional support, I don't know how to ask for it. I mean [Keeper of All Knowledge] explicitly offered to talk, but I haven't taken her up on it, because...I don't know. Because I don't know how to reach out to people; because I'm too proud to admit when I need help; because I'm too scared of how I feel to admit it anyone else; because I've spent the past three months watching the shit storm that is [Type A, Likes Baseball] and [Captain America] happen and I don't want to be anything like them; because, because, because...And I know I should talk to [Keeper of All Knowledge], really, because it would help to talk to someone impartial, and if anyone can give emotional support it's her, and because I haven't even told her what happened with [Львица], and after how great my friends have been I at least owe them that.

Cats to the rescue! They make everything better.

And then there's [Львица]. I'm closer to her than just about anyone, and she's the closest I've ever come to having a best friend. Even before we were dating, she knew more about me than anyone else, and even though she doesn't believe it, I tell her things I don't tell other people, or at least I try to, which is a lot for me, because with most people I don't even try. And yet, even with her, even with how much I want to tell her about who I am, as soon as she asks me to tell her something, my friendly neighborhood mental block is back, and the words are gone. It's not that I had nothing to say to you, it's that as soon as you asked, I literally couldn't think of anything to say that wasn't about boats, dinosaurs, or science.

But regardless, I'd like to think that we're pretty close at this point, after everything, and right now I'm terrified that I'm going to lose that. Not because of her, or anything that she's done, but because I am an emotional idiot. Because I don't know how to feel this way, nor do I really understand how I'm feeling, and I don't know how to recover, how to start feeling better. (I know that that's all stupid because emotions are inherently irrational, but I still want to have a somewhat better explanation for my feelings than "I'm sad because my girlfriend broke up with me.")

I want more than anything to be friends with her, to be her best friend, but where do I start? Part of me really want to just be okay right now so I can get on with it and spend time with her without it being weird. But I know that's dumb and unrealistic, because if I was okay right now, if it didn't still hurt, then that would mean that it meant so little to me that I could be over it in a week and a half.

But maybe this is, in a way, a good thing. I worried for a long time that I didn't really know how to feel. That something really bad would happen and I wouldn't be able to handle it, because I shut myself down emotionally for so long, but now I know that I can handle it, and even though it sucks, I can get through it. It means that I've finally started to open up and get emotionally close to people, or at least I am to her, because if I wasn't, she couldn't have gotten close enough to hurt me this badly.

Anyways, I'm probably just being dramatic, because she was my first girlfriend and I love her. And when you combine that with my inability to shut my brain off and just feel, you get copious over analysis of everything. Hence, this long and rambling post.

Just So You Know, It Snowed

I woke up today to the first snowfall of the season, which was super exciting. I love when it snows. It really is the only form of precipitation that I like. There is something about snowfall, particularly in November and December, that feels really special. When it's snowing, those big, wet flakes, and it's covering everything, making the world quiet, it feels magical. Like anything could happen. The part of me that has read far too much fantasy always feels, in those moments, like magic and adventure are closer to the real world than at any other time.

Today's snow was, in a weird way, particularly comforting. I've had a bad week. And yesterday was particularly shitty. I was already in a bad mood, and then I had to sit through two hours of the most boring high school rendition of Alice in Wonderland in recent history because [BrotherBot] had a bit part and I was required to do my sibling duty and go to it. And then, to top it all off, half way through dinner my aunt texts [Maternal Unit] to tell her that my 90 year old grandmother was being rushed into surgery with a bowel obstruction.

Anyways, yesterday sucked, and so to see it snowing this morning when I woke up, and to have it be the first real snow of the season, which is my favorite, reminded me it's going to be okay; that I'm going to be okay. Whatever happens, happens, because I much as I wish I were, I am not actually in control of the myriad random forces that make up the universe.

Seeing something as beautiful as falling snow reminded me that there is more in my life right now than the self-pity that I have been wallowing in for the last week. That even though right now it is sort of hard to connect the knowledge that it will get better with the feeling that I will be okay, it has gotten better, and it will only continue to improve. I promised you that I would be okay, and I intend to make good on that promise.

Post Script

I don't know if you'll read this, but regardless, this is for you. I should probably not be writing this now. I should probably wait until I have a little bit of perspective, until I can write this without crying, but it's what's been going on in my head, and I need to say it, and I want to say it before I over think it all more than I already have.

I can't get it out of my head: you walking out of my room that night. It was everything that I've feared for the last two months, for the last year. I didn't see it coming, not really, which makes it that much worse. I mean, in retrospect, I can say, that to some extent I knew that what we had meant something different to me than it did to you. That my feelings were different, were going somewhere that yours weren't, which is fine, but in the moment, everything seemed okay, to me. And now I feel stupid and naive. Like I should have seen it coming, or felt that you weren't happy, even though I know that I couldn't have.

Maybe this is for the best, and going through this now and being able to still have something with you is better than holding on for a little bit longer and losing you altogether, but it doesn't feel that way. I think that's because ever since we met, I've wanted something with you, and then I got it, and it was different than what I expected, but everything is, and different isn't bad. Regardless, it was wonderful, it felt so right, and every time I laid in bed with you I wondered how I could be so lucky as to be with you. I should have told you that more. I guess that I have to lose that so as not to lose you completely, but I don't want to.

These aren't regrets, per se, because I don't think it could have happened any other way on either of our parts, but these are things, that if I could change, I would, or maybe they're lessons for the future, things I learned or am learning, I guess. Anyways:

I wish I would have kissed you more. I wish I would have bought you flowers; I always intended to, but I didn't, and now it's too late. I wish I would have taken your hand, or touched your face, or held you more often, and with more confidence. I wish I had told you how amazing, and beautiful, and intelligent you are, and how much you mean to me, more often. I wish I could have made you happy in the way that you made me happy.

I don't think than any of these things would have made an appreciable difference, I do believe you when you say that I did nothing wrong and I don't blame myself, but they would have made me feel better about it, about myself, like I did everything I could have.

Just know this: I'm not mad,  I don't blame you for anything; I really do believe everything you told me, and I'm not just saying that. Right now I'm sad and I'm hurt, but, ultimately, I'm glad that we had something special for two months. I'm glad that you're in my life, and that you're my friend. I don't understand why it had to be this way, but I respect your reasons and your decision, even if I don't like it. I'll be okay, and I know that you will be too.

Anyways, I know that I've said most of this already, and I'm not trying to make you feel bad or anything like that, because I know that you did what you thought and felt was right and that it was hard for you to do. This isn't to try to get you to change your mind or anything. This is just what I'm feeling right now, in an effort to actually tell you something about myself, something important.

There is so much more I want to say to you, and so much more that I wish I had, but this post already took a really long time to write, and was one of the hardest things I have ever written, and I want to say something of meaning, without rehashing or falling into old cliches, which I hope this didn't do too much. This is all that I've got right now, all that I can do at the present, but I know that it will get better, and that you'll be there when it does.

Adventures in Public Television

I watched the new Nova special The Fabric of the Cosmos tonight. It's narrated by Columbia physicist Brian Greene and it's based on his book of the same name. Here's the preview for it, and you can watch the entire episode over at PBS' website if you are so inclined.

It goes into detail about what we know about space, going from a general overview of how our understanding of it has evolved from Newton to today to the basics of some cutting edge theories that are still be debated in the physics community. It gives a pretty good overview of the physical principles, while still putting them in terms that are understandable to someone without an advance degree in physics. It does bear a striking similarity to the first part of Brian Greene's previous book/Nova special The Elegant Universe, but it is still quite enjoyable.

I love Nova, and I have since I was in grade school and it made me fall in love with science. (Between Nova, Bill Nye the Science Guy, and The Magic School Bus  I never really stood a chance in the face of science, but I guess that's what happens when you spend you're formative years nearly exclusively watching PBS.)

Anyways, I love the show, but I have a hard time watching now that I've undergone some actual science education. Take this episode for example; it does a really good job of explaining the basics of how we understand space, but, because it's made for the general PBS watching public, it completely leave out the math. This makes sense, because including the math would make it extremely long and completely unwatchable, but as someone whose taken basic physics classes, I know that the metaphors and descriptions they use mean nothing without the math the support it. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely do not want to go through the derivations of space time and the Higg's field, but when they start describing some of the strange new theories, like how everything in the 3D universe might just be a projection of 2D information stored on the surface of the universe, I honestly want to see the math the supports it and causes some really smart people to believe it, even though I know I won't understand it.

All of this is to say that if you want to watch something interesting about how we understand the universe around us that doesn't require you to know anything about physics, this is your show. But, if you've undergone enough science education to have a hard time accepting things without seeing the derivations and/or have taken more than a semester of physics, watch this because it is enjoyable and entertaining, not because it will greatly contribute to your understanding of the universe.

It was enjoyable, and you should give it a watch, imaginary readers.

Normal Differentials

I made you another graph, imaginary readers. This one is more silly than the previous ones, which weren't particularly serious, so if you don't understand this one, that's okay; I barely do, and I made it. This one came about because of a conversation I had with [Princess Leia Vampire] the other day.

I ran into her at the student union between classes, and we talked for a while, which was nice, because I don't see her all that often. Anyways, in the middle of an idle conversation probably about how she still needs to give me back the comics I lent her last month, which she is now holding hostage, she said that she can't be friends with normal people because when talking to a normal person, if she says something like 'That building looks like a hippopotamus,' the normal person gets weirded out. (Side note: Koltoff Hall really does look like a walrus.)

Once you see the walrus, you can't unsee it

It was at that point that I remembered why we've been friends since the sixth grade: we were both rather strange children, and we are still both rather weird (read: geeky/nerdy/strange).

Anyways, we then decided to graphically depict how difficult it is to talk to normal people (read: people who are different than us). Thus, the above graph came to be. It shows the weirdness of a situation as a function of the normalcy of the people being talked to.

Taken to the extreme, this illustrates the situation where I try to talk to someone who is just so normal that we have nothing to say to one another outside of basic pleasantries, after which we descend into awkward silence because we are so different, we can't relate on any level that isn't completely superficial.

For example, this is one of the reasons that I haven't had a real conversation with [Random Roommate #2] in the two months we've been living together. We simply have nothing to talk about because we have so little in common. In reality, this is probably because we are different people, and not because of a differential in the normalcy of us, but it's more fun to say that it has to do with her being too normal.

If You're Not a Part of the Solution, You're Part of the Precipitate

via reddit

I ran across the above cartoon today while wasting time on the internet. It makes a fair point about our education system: people learn in different ways, yet we persist in measuring everyone by a rubric that only works for some. My problem with this, which is more general than just this cartoon, is that it fairly criticizes the system, making a rather tired point, and then leaves it at that. I'm tired of people criticizing things without providing any sort of alternative way of doing things. This is probably an unfair expectation of a political cartoon, but it embodies this issue for me, which I've been thinking about a lot lately because of the Occupy Wall Street movement.

In general, I think it is a good thing to criticize things and institutions that you see as being problematic/ deserving criticism, but after a while, you have to move on from just pointing out the problems and move towards presenting a solution. Criticism should serve as a starting point for further discussion to ultimately facilitate change. Criticism for criticism's sake is useless, but people use it to mask the fact that they don't have a solution to the problem they are presenting.

As far as Occupy Wall Street (OWS) goes, I'm fairly ambivalent towards it as a whole movement. I think it's great that people are standing up against what they see as a problematic system, which does have a lot of problems. I like that they are bringing attention back to the economic problems that are affecting people, like joblessness and debt, rather than the rubrics that people tend to use to measure the economy. (I fail to understand why I should care about the Dow Jones Index or the NASDAQ. I don't get why these mysterious points are important.) On the other hand, I don't like their vilification of everyone who earns a certain amount, regardless of their circumstances.

All that said, my biggest problem with OWS is that I don't see them having a real purpose or endgame. What do they think will be a fair solution? What are their solutions to the problems they are protesting? I don't know. I don't see them as having any real solutions that are practical or in any way achievable. They say they want a more democratic society. What does that mean? Direct democracy? That's not possible in a country of 350 million. They say they want a fairer society. How so? What constitutes fair, and who is the judge of that? They say they want economic justice. Does that mean wealth redistribution, because if it does, it violates the tenets of a capitalist society.

I certainly don't claim to have the answers, but I don't think the OWS protesters do either. People are frustrated with the slow recovery, and the unemployment rates, and the fact that the wealthy have a relatively low tax rate. Those are perfectly valid complaints, and protesting is a good way to make everyone aware of those frustrations, but, after a while, it becomes meaningless because no real solutions are presented. Yelling about how angry you are and how much you don't like the current situation isn't going to change anything. It may be cathartic, but it won't do anything, unless you provide an alternative system that you can show would be better than the current system. We are all aware of the problems with the current system, so give us a better one. They maybe you can affect real change. Stop whining and do something real. Otherwise, this whole OWS movement is meaningless.

Buzz In!

I love quiz bowl. I really do. I've been involved with it since the eighth grade, so that makes five years, three schools, and more tournaments/practices/meets than I can count. I have heard thousands of questions and read hundreds by now. I've even written a couple dozen. But this year, for the first time, I just can't get excited about it.

For those of you, imaginary readers, who don't know what quiz bowl is, here's a very unhelpful explanation via Wikipedia. The best way I can explain it without getting bogged down in the details is as competitive team trivia. There are two teams of four who compete against each other to see who can answer the most random trivia, mostly academic, correctly. Yes, it is kind of like Jeopardy!.

So much classier than any team I've been a part of...

I've played one tournament this year so far, and it was fun, but I realized that I didn't really care if I played or didn't, or that I did well, or about the outcome of the tournament. I still enjoyed it; it just didn't seem as important as it used to. I would have rather stayed in bed, and then spent the day with my friends and being productive, rather than spending the day in Northfield with a group that only contains a couple of people I like.

One of the reason's I got so into quiz bowl in high school was because I was good at it. I was a solid high school player. Not amazing, not even the best on my team, but well rounded and versatile. It's always fun to be good at something. But in college play, I'm not as good as I was. I'm a decent B player, but I'll never be an A player, which is okay with me, but it gets a bit discouraging when half of the freshmen on the team are better than I'll ever be. I don't need to be the best, but I do need to feel like I'm doing well, and I'm not sure I'm doing particularly well anymore.

The other reason I enjoyed playing in high school was the people. They were fun to be around, and despite the few I didn't like, the people made it way more fun than winning ever did. I enjoyed hanging out with [Inauthentic Irish] and [Spelled Like It Sounds], so it was always fun to play a tournament, no matter how well we did or didn't do. There are a couple of people I like and get along with on the college team, mostly [Short and Spunky] and [If It Sounds Ancient...], but also a few others, but they are far outnumbered by people I'm either ambivalent towards or outright don't like. Even though [Not The Boy Wonder] has been less annoying lately, I still want to punch him in the face every time I have to interact with him, and most of the freshmen this year are either annoying or so arrogant it's hard to be around them.

I got really into the team here last year. I went to as many tournaments as I could, and I staffed if I couldn't play. I went to most of the practices, and every social night we had. This year, I just don't want to. I think it was so important to me last year because I came to school not knowing anyone, and it gave me a group of people that I knew, even if we weren't all friends. It gave me something to do outside of my dorm room and people to do things with who weren't [Clothes Don't Fit]. But now I have friends who I'd rather spend time with, and other things I'd rather do. And since I've lost the social aspect of it, or no longer need to social aspect of it, the competitive aspect of it isn't enough to excite me.

I'm going to stick out my obligations for this year, with the tournaments I've already signed up for, and the ones I'm going to write for, but I don't think I'm going to play as much as I did last year, and I don't know if I'm going to come back again next year. It's just weird to think about not doing quiz bowl, because it's been such a big part of my life for so long, but I don't want to waste my time on something I don't enjoy anymore. At this point, scaling back and ultimately stopping will be a good thing, because it will give me more time to focus on things that are more important and things that I enjoy. Sorry [A-PUSH Not A-SLACK], but I just can't do quiz bowl anymore. It was one of the best things in my life for a long time, but I've changed, and it's changed, and we just don't get along so well anymore.

Bat-Queer Theory

We learned about Queer Theory today in my GWSS class. Apparently it's all about breaking down barriers between societally imposed binaries with regards to gender/sex/sexuality etc. I found it mostly annoying, but shouldn't surprise you, imaginary readers. 

The details of what we learned aren't important. What's important is that my instructor drew an umbrella on the board, to illustrate how "queer" is an umbrella term, and while not paying attention to what she was saying, I noticed something peculiar. The umbrella she drew looked suspiciously like the Bat symbol.

This realization has lead me to formulate something that I like to call Bat-Queer Theory. Here's a helpful image to illustrate the overlap. 

Turns out Google Docs has a paint feature. More images to follow

Bat-Queer Theory (BQT) basically states that there is a socially constructed binary between the Bat family (Batman and his associates who operate under the Bat) and everyone else. BQT attempts to break down that binary by realizing that some people identify with the Bat. They may feel like they don't fit with the traditional societal roles, but rather, they identify as Batmen/women/other or as Robins/Nightwings/Spoilers or as Pennyworths.

I hope to establish BQT as a legitimate academic field, because it is important that no one's identity is marginalized, including Bats. Frankly, I'm surprised and appalled by the Queer and Feminist movements' lack of inclusion of Bats. I would have thought that they of all people would recognize the intersectionality of Bats and other identities. I hope to right that wrong, and I hope that you, imaginary readers, will help me in my endeavor. Bats have been othered for too long, and it is time that people recognize them for what they are: Fictional superheroes of Gotham City.

My Public Opinion

First of all, go read this article from the Star Tribune's op-ed page.

For those of you too lazy to actually read it, the above article is a piece by an old-school Republican from Minnesota with the awesome name Wheelock Whitney about why he plans to vote against the up-coming marriage amendment. It was a well reasoned, well written piece, that didn't get too defensive and didn't rely on name-calling, which I think is always a good thing. Regardless of the expressed sentiments, what really struck me about the piece was this statement:

"Personal moral values and religious beliefs are appropriately taught in families and houses of worship. But in a free society we must allow others to live according to the dictates of their own consciences."

That statement pretty much sums up how I feel about politics, and also religion, and just opinions in general. If I had to sum it up in one sentence I would probably say that I believe in respect.  I do not care what you believe, whatever it may be, and however detestable I may find it, I will respect your right to hold those beliefs as long as you respect my beliefs and don't try to impose yours upon me. In return, I will try not to impose my belief system upon you. 



I really hate it when people try to impose their personal morals on others, which happens in lots of different ways, but I see most prominently reflected in politics. Any values based issue I see as one group trying to force their value system on other people. Gay marriage is a good example of this. So is abortion. My feeling about the issue is that if you don't agree with abortion, don't get an abortion, but also don't make it impossible for anyone else to get an abortion. You don't know them, or their situation, or their belief system, so don't try to make their decisions for them.


I think that every person has the right to choose what to do with their own life, within certain constraints, and nobody else should make those decisions for them or take that choice away. You are free to live your life however you want, so long as you don't try to make me live my life the same way you live yours.

I know that some of you, imaginary readers, are shaking your head at me right now and saying "well, under this system, isn't all government an imposition of a belief system? Are you really a crazy anarchist/libertarian who doesn't believe in any government at all?"


The answer to the first question is that I guess that's true, but for me, it really only extends to issues that I see stemming from religious/moral beliefs. I know very little about political science/theory, and I mostly try to not think to hard about government, because I usually end up confused about the whole thing, so I'm not here to make any grand statements about the nature of government. I am possibly the least qualified person to do that.


As for the second question, I generally think government is necessary for the oversight and regulation of society, foreign policy, and the economy, but if I were to give you a reason why it's necessary, it probably wouldn't make a lot of sense (see above re: qualifications) so I'll just leave it at that.

Oktoberfesting

It's getting to be that time of year again: autumn, or as I like to call it, the Month of Gratuitous Oktoberfesting. It seems like, as soon as October starts, everything here starts to have Oktoberfest themed celebrations, which, if nothing else, does accurately reflect the high German population in the Upper Midwest. This is all well and good, provided said Oktoberfests actually understand what Oktoberfest is outside of it being German.

By this, I mean that I get annoyed when a place (read: the dining hall) puts on an Oktoberfest with the only Oktoberfesty aspect of it being that there are brats. If you don't give me beer, I do not accept your validity as an Oktoberfest.

Oktoberfest is a Bavarian beer festival, that happens to include lots of traditional Bavarian foods such as bratwurst and schnitzel because you can't survive on beer alone for two plus weeks. (Actually, given the high caloric content of beer, you might be able to, but even if you could, you probably shouldn't.)

I know that some of you, imaginary readers, are currently shaking your non-real heads are telling me that no, it is a celebration of German culture, so I should stop complaining about it being accurately portrayed in America. But to that I say, you are right, it is a celebration of German culture, but a full fifty percent of German culture, particularly in Bavaria revolves around beer (the other half consists of discipline and not talking about anything that happened between 1933 and 1945).

And yes, I know that I'm not an expert on German culture because I'm not German, but I did survive four years of [Frau Crazy]'s German class, so that has to count for something.

I generally don't think things need to be authentic to their origins, as I don't care that you're Oktoberfest celebration is a weekend in mid to late October rather than 16 to 18 days at the end of September through the first weekend in October. That doesn't matter to me. What matters to me is that you at least try to understand what it is that you are emulating and stay true to  the concept. Oktoberfest is a beer festival. If you're not going to have beer, call it something else. This is all.

Theory of Gendered Digestion

For my GWSS class today, we had to read a chapter from Elizabeth Wilson's book Psychosomatic: Feminism and the Neurological Body about the links between the Central Nervous System (CNS) and the Enteric Nervous System (ENS), which is made up of all of the nerves in your gut and regulates everything between the stomach and the rectum, and is often referred to as the "brain in the gut" or "second brain" because of how closely it resembles the CNS.

The article was more scientific than theoretical, and dealt with the relationship between ENS and CNS, specifically which one is more in charge when it comes to how out gut feels, and which way the feedback loop runs. I thought it was fairly interesting, if for no other reason than it included some really interesting facts about the ENS, including that we have more neurons in our gut than our spinal cord, and that the neurons in the ENS are more similar in structure to the CNS neurons than the those in the rest of the peripheral nervous system.

The article was interesting in it's own right, but it was also a fairly big departure from what we have been reading, given that it is an example of feminist science practice rather than feminist science theory (which kills me, because science is science, dammit, but academic feminists don't seem to like that line of reasoning). The feminist theory was implied in how Wilson approached the relationship between the ENS and CNS, saying that there wasn't a hard and fast division between the two, rather than explicitly stated, which threw some members of the class for a loop.

Prior to class starting, I overheard a couple of other students discussing the text. One of them was saying that she couldn't really see where the feminism came into play, and the other was telling her basically what I just told you, imaginary readers, to which she responded "I guess it has to do with the stomach being so closely associated with women." And the other student agreed with her.

What?

Since when has the stomach been associated with women? I can buy into some of the stuff we've read about women being associated with nature and sexuality and blah blah blah, but with digestion? I was under the impression that neither gender is more or less associated with that particular bodily function. I should say that this was a student speculating before class, and not anything the instructor said or that was stated in the text, but still. Is this actually a thing that I've just never encountered before? Or does this seem as crazy to you, imaginary readers, as it does to me?

Friends of Friends

I ran into [Quiet Raver] the other day. She was tabling a vegan bake sale at Coffman when I was there with [Princess Leia Vampire] to exchange comics. It was more than a little bit awkward because, while we both go to the U, I've only seen her one other time since we started college. Part of me thinks that that's a shame, because we used to be somewhat close, and she was the first friend I made when we started high school. But, the truth is, I haven't stayed in touch with anyone from high school, nor do I particularly care to.

I didn't dislike high school. Despite the required religion classes and semi-regular mass, it was a good environment for me, and I think I got a lot out of it, both socially and academically. All that said, I didn't really have friends in high school. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't socially isolated or anything. I had people I ate lunch with, and who I hung out with before school, and who I talked to in class, etc. It was just that all of those relationships ended as soon as we weren't at school. I would hang out with them during the school day, and then after school and on weekends and during breaks they would hang out together and I was never invited.

I was only ever invited when it was a big group thing, like a birthday party or something like that, but, in a way, that only made it worse. It wasn't like they just didn't think to ask me to do stuff with them, they just didn't want to. They were never mean, and it wasn't like they didn't want me around, but I wasn't truly part of the group.

XKCD

The thing is, I can't just blame them, because it was probably, at least partially, my fault. They probably never knew how hard it was for me to listen to their inside jokes that I wasn't privy to, or how much it would have meant to me if they would have included me, but I wasn't going to tell them. Maybe if I had been more forward about what I wanted with them, I could have been more included, or at least realized earlier that I was wasting my time.

For a long time it didn't really bother me; I was okay with the way things were, because while things weren't great, they were good enough, which was all I really cared about. It didn't start to really bother me until senior year, when I finally realized what I was missing, but by then it was too late to really change things or get new friends.

I was bitter about it for a while, especially when I'd see pictures on Facebook of their escapades, and I was angry, both at them and at myself. But then, this summer I went to an end of the summer party at [Only Likes Asians]'s, and I saw them again, along with a bunch of other people. And while I talked to them for a while, which was super awkward because they were the same as ever, I spent a lot more time talking to other people from high school, who I was never super close to. I realized that [Operant Conditioning] and [Daphnis] and [Techie At Heart] et al. will probably be best friends for a long time and stay in touch for a while, and I don't have a place in that, but I also realized that I was okay with that.

Maybe it's because I finally realized that we were never very good friends to begin with, and maybe it's because I realized that we didn't really have much in common to begin with, but I think it was mostly because I didn't need to be friends with them anymore because I have a close group of friends now, that I'm actually friends with. In a lot of ways, this is the first time in my life that I've felt completely part of a group, rather than on the periphery, and it's made me realize both what I missed in high school, but also that I'm fine with that. Like I said, there was a lot of high school that I enjoyed, and a lot of things that I wouldn't change, it's just that since I started college, I've realized what it could have been, what I could have made it, but that's hindsight I guess...

In Defense of the Oxford Comma

This is why the oxford comma (or serial comma) is an important part of the English language, disregarding the fact that it is my  favorite punctuation mark.

I wasn't able to find where this image originated, but kudos to whoever made it.

This image makes both my inner history nerd and my inner grammar nerd incredibly happy. That probably says a lot about me, but whatever...

Comic Book Wednesday: Anatomy Lessons

I have a poster on my wall that shows a collection of female Marvel comics characters, which I like because I am generally a fan of both Marvel comics and female comic book characters, so it's a win in every dimension. On multiple occasions now, when people who aren't comic book nerds have seen it for the first time they've asked me why all the the female character have such large breasts, to which I don't really have a good answer other than that they're comic book characters.

In truth, I don't really think about the proportionality of comic book characters anymore, probably because I'm so familiar with the genre that I don't think about things like that anymore. I understand that some people are offended by the fact that nearly every single female character in mainstream American comics is a double D with a 15 inch waist, because I do get that women aren't portrayed in a realistic manner, which can contribute to body issues in impressionable girls. I mean, Power Girl is just ridiculous and I wish Emma Frost wore more clothing, but I find that the people who complain about them are missing something fundamental because they are ignoring what comic books are.

Power Girl: Superman's cousin from an alternate timeline which no longer exists, maybe.

Just looking at Emma Frost makes me cold. This is not a practical outfit.

Comics are entertainment, and, ultimately, escapism. I don't read comics to better understand the world I live in. I read comics because I enjoy the world of the comics. They aren't portraying real people, nor are they claiming to portray real people, so holding them to a standard that is defined by what is real is dumb. I would contend that people don't read comics to see themselves reflected in the characters. They read comics to see scantily clad women and ridiculously buff men with superpowers fight it out for 22 pages. Also, sometimes the stories are good too.

Secondly, comics are a genre written by and for men, nearly exclusively. The fact is, there are very few women who read mainstream American comics, so comic creators shouldn't be expected to write/draw things that appeal to sensitive women's sensibilities because they make up such a small portion of the audience. Comics are a struggling industry to begin with, and if they were to risk alienating a major part of their audience (who are very easily offended to begin with, just look at the hullabaloo over giving Wonder Woman pants) just to satisfy a really small group of people who aren't buying comics anyways it would be really bad for business. And, ultimately, it is a business. It exists to make money by selling comics not to promote good body image in girls.

Thirdly, men are equally as ridiculously proportioned as women in comics, a fact that people tend to ignore. It is routine for male characters to have the musculature of a 'roided out body builder who is half giant. The 90s were particularly bad for this.

His forearms are larger than a baby. Think about that for a moment.

 This can't be good for the body image of your typically teenage nerd who reads comics. But no one wants to talk about that.

Ultimately, I just think that comics are comics, and that as a genre, like everything else, they have their problems, but, in the grand scheme of the depiction of women in comics, cup size is really the last thing people should be worried about. In a genre where female characters are regularly used solely as a plot device for the male character (see Women in Refrigerators), and where female characters have fewer solo titles and team titles than men, and where it was a huge controversy among fans to put pants on Wonder Woman, I think that there are better things to try and change.

I may not be the best judge of these things, but as a comics fan, and as a woman, I don't think people are making a big deal out of the right issues. Realistic anatomy is never going to happen in comics, in no small part due to the stylization of the art, but depictions of female characters as believable people can and does happen, maybe not often enough, but it does, so that's where I think people should focus their efforts. I think it may be more important for Wonder Woman to be able to wear pants than for her to be realistically proportioned, but that's just me. 

Attack of the Midterm Monster

Midterms start this week for me, which of course means that I'm blogging about them instead of studying for them, but it's only Tuesday, and I don't have any tests until Friday. To illustrate my feelings about midterms, or any exam really, I have made another graph for you, imaginary readers. It compares my preparedness for midterms to my anxiety about midterms.

With colors and everything.

Exams generally don't bother me that much, but I have two this Friday, both of which require me to actually study, and I hate studying for math tests. Cell bio just requires that we know everything there is to know about everything our Professor has lectured on, and calc requires me to be able to do actually complicated procedures that I should probably learn sometime this week.

What I don't like about midterms is less of the studying/test taking part, and more that once midterms start, they don't end until finals. The way my college structures exams, each class usually ends up having three midterms, with some classes having four, and they never seem to overlap particularly well, which means no really bad weeks, but also means having a test every week or two for the entirety of the semester. Or at least, that's how it was last year, and it looks like it is going to follow the same pattern this semester.

I tend to view tests in a very adversarial way. Exams are like battles. Victory necessitates preparation and strategy, but, ultimately a complex series of factors determine the victor. Sometimes, for whatever reason, the exam wins the day, but I have a pretty solid victory percentage.

Different classes have exams that resemble different battles/campaigns. For example, Physics tests late year were usually Pyrrhic victories, so I was Epirus and the class was Greece, whereas O Chem was the Fourth Crusade (my favorite Crusade) and I was the Crusaders, laying siege to and ultimately sacking Constantinople (the exams).

I guess one could say that I'm at war with my education, which is a little bit harsh, because I like being in school, and will probably be in school for a very long time, I just don't particularly enjoy midterms and the stress they come coupled with. I was quite enjoying this past month of being back at school but not having any exams, which I won't get again until January (although the first month of Spring Semester wasn't nearly as calm as September was last year, so I don't know if that's how it's going to be again this year). But that's over now, and I have to find some way to motivate myself to study, but that's what being in school is: a never ending series of exams coupled with a severe lack of motivation to study for said exams. Or maybe that's just me...

If Science Were Horses We'd All Be Confused

I'm taking a Gender Women's Sexuality Studies (GWSS) class this semester, which focuses on science studies and feminist theories of science. Two things that I didn't know existed until a month ago, and I sort of wish I was still ignorant of. So far, everything we've read and discussed in class has been focused on criticizing the current practice of science, which is fine, nothing is above criticism, but the singular focus of the material on science as a monolithic, patriarchal institution that is bent on the oppression of everyone who is not a white male does bother me. It just seems so academic; divorced from the actual practice of science, written by people who spend their days coming up with problems that don't necessarily exist to justify their existence as a field. Kind of like mathematicians.

This is probably an overly harsh sentiment, and I am biased towards science, but the way that these writers talk about science really bothers me. They discuss it as if it were an over arching institution of Science with a capital "S." As if it were one singular thing that can be quantified and discussed. This just isn't true.

XKCD

Science isn't a singular thing. It isn't a uniform institution for the discovery of the Truth About the Universe, or even a single way of looking at the world. At its core, science is just a tool: a process that can be employed to help us make sense of the world around us. No single person or theory or institution can accurately represent science, because, ultimately, science is just a concept, a method.

Science is in the experiment, in the questions we ask about how our world works, and in the data that we collect about it. What we make of those results is about us, and our knowledge and world view, not about the science of it. This is where the critics we have been reading have a point. The place we come at the data from does influence how we interpret it, but we are human after all, and it is unfair to blame science itself for the inevitability of human nature. People can be racist and sexist and homophobic, and thus they way they interpret their data can be all of those things, but that's not the fault of the method, that's the fault of the person.

You wouldn't say that someone once wrote a racist novel, therefore the way in which novels are written must be inherently racist and needs to change. That doesn't make sense. But that's what feminist science studies is saying in many respects. Science has been used to justify sexism, therefore science is inherently flawed. That doesn't mean anything, really. It doesn't do anything to advance the feminist cause to yell at science to change, when really you should be yelling at the people who practice science and the people who misinterpret science to change.

Intersectionality is really important in a lot of the feminist theory we've been reading. It is basically the idea that people are composed of a bunch of different identities and we need to acknowledge all of them to really understand where a person is coming from (which I think is kind of obvious, but I'll let them have that.) The overwhelming opinion of the class is that science would be better off if it took a more intersectional approach, because it would better equip science to find the truth. I'm sorry, but what? I can understand that you're a black woman with an interest in slow jazz and Asian culture, but that doesn't change gravity, or photosynthesis, or the equilibrium constant of an acid-base reaction. Science is the interpretation and understanding of how the world works, and the world works based on a finite set of physical and chemical laws and principles, not on you're identity, no matter how complex it may be. If, when you are analyzing scientific data, you are thinking about your intersecting identities, YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG. (Granted, this doesn't apply to the social sciences, but, as important and valid as those fields are, I don't personally consider them science).

Yes, the institutional practice of science has its flaws. It is definitely very male dominated, and it can be hard to break into and understand as an outsider. It is slow to change, and often, there are no clear results due to ambiguity in the data and conflicting evidence. Politics also plays an important role is what is funded and what is enshrined as law. But those are problems with the practice of science, not with science itself. Nothing is perfect, and science has its problems and issues and controversies like every other field, but I don't agree with the characterization of it as a single oppressive unit, particularly since that characterization tends to be based solely on examples taken from the biological sciences, which aren't representative of even institutional science as a whole.

Biology is inherently one of the most subjective fields within the natural sciences because the systems are so far removed from the first principles, which necessitates more subjective interpretations, which are more open to the influences of one's own philosophies. To only look at biology and then to draw conclusions about the way science is practiced as a whole, is even more flawed than just trying to make broad generalizations. It displays a fundamental lack of understanding about the fields being criticized.

XKCD again

All of this isn't to say that I'm against feminism, which I'm not, I just have a problem with some of the theory. Writing about your problems with science is not going to change anything, particularly since the only people reading feminist theory are other feminist theorists. If you want to actually change things, stop pandering to your academic peers, and start going out and doing things. Science doesn't oppress people; people oppress people, and theorizing about that oppression doesn't stop it. Also, if you are going to theorize about something, try and start by having a basic understanding about what you are talking about.

For the sake of sourcing what I'm ranting about, here are some of the authors who I'm referencing:
Carolyn Merchant, Evelyn Fox Keller, Barbara Ehrenreich, Deirdre English, Emily Martin, Nancy Tuana, Lisa Weasel, Siobhan Somerville, Banu Subramanium, and other.