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Last time I had my thinky cap on, so I was attempting to (poorly) place some thoughts and corollaries into words but I’ve had time to re-read and re-think, so here’s part 2.

Homosexual romances are, of course, not the same type of relationship as  incestuous romances. Actually, other than the fact that each consists of (generally) two people engaged in a romantic/sexual relationship, the two have nothing in common. The common thread I was attempting to draw between the two types of relationships was not one that equated homosexuality and incest.

Instead, I was drawing a parallel between my father’s inexplicable reactions to certain things and my own inexplicable reactions to other things, and trying to imagine my father’s reasons based on my own.  Any judgement or opinionating that occurred was directed towards our reactions to the relationships as opposed to being a judgement of the relationships themselves.

I meant to point out that both of our reactions aren’t logic-based or well thought out at all, but very prejudiced and instinctive. These are feelings that need to be brought out of whatever insidious hiding place they have within the psyche, examined, questioned over and over again, then modified(or not) as life throws new experiences at us.

Thinky cap on.

So I’ve got a philosophy of religion exam tomorrow, and in preparation, instead of actually preparing the actual essay questions that will be on the exam, I’ve got Don Cupitt and Stephen Law in my head, telling me what they think about God. Which mostly consists of Non-Realism, which states that God doesn’t exist outside of our human faith and understanding of him. So humans pre-date God.

Religious realism, where God is literally sitting on a throne in the sky with Jesus on his physical right hand, is an outdated notion according to Cupitt.

Good stuff for thinking.

But what really got this post started was an excerpt from Stephen Law’s The Philosophy Gym, the chapter titled “What’s wrong with gay sex?” in which Stephen Law takes Plato’s device of using mock discussions between various characters to illuminate certain aspects to a stance against homosexuality. In the course of arguing against an overly simplistic defense of “homosexuality is just wrong” , Law covers the appeal to the Bible; its unnatural, dirty, and unhealthy nature; corruption of young; promiscuity; and family values. And in its own simplistic way, the chapter manages to put up some defenses. But that got me started on a train of thought I’ve had before, namely, the instinctive feeling of wrongness that people associate with certain kinds of sexuality and sexual relationships.

I’m an avid proponent of gay rights and equality of rights for all LGBT citizens of America. Until recently, though, I’ve attempted to keep my support on the down low when I’m at home because my parents were freaked out enough that I had gay friends. If I “came out” to them as a supporter of the LGBT movement, they’d both have cows and then attempt to use those cows to sell me off to the most hetero-aggressive Korean traditionalist male  Roman Catholic groom as soon as possible.

Well, chalk it up to a late phase of teenage rebellion or just immature perversity but lately I have been attempting to engage my parents, especially my father in dialogues involving a comparison of their feelings and mine on homosexuality. We never really got anywhere in terms of convincing either my father or myself that we were wrong but it certainly got me thinking about how my father could feel so strongly that homosexuality was unnatural without any logical support to back him up. He didn’t even have the defenses that Law enumerated in his book. He simply and consistently insisted that homosexuality felt completely wrong and unnatural, and that it always would. Which got me thinking about what I would consider unequivocally wrong in respect to a relationship or sexual orientation.

I then thought of the nature of incest. When I think of an incestuous relationship between a parent and child, my immediate reaction is disgust and horror. I tried to think of a situation where I would be comfortable with a mother and child or father and child engaging in a sexual or romantic realtionship, and I really couldn’t.  I can’t help but think that this instinctive and immediate reaction is similar to my father’s reaction to homosexuality.

So, unfortunately, this is the point at which my logic fails me because to be truthful, I have no logical defense for why I feel this way. I could tell you it’s because I subconsciously understand that any reproduction from a relationship of that sort is fraught with genetic peril or that it can be seen as an abuse of authority or some other reason but even if none of those reasons applied, I would still feel somewhere in my illogical and inexplicable little soul that incestuous relationships are wrong.

I’m not sure which side I would come down on if incestuous couples were to look for legitimization and civil equality in the eyes of civilization and the law. I like to think I’d be logical about it, or at least open to discussion but as I just laid out, this isn’t a topic that I’m logical about.

To be fair, I don’t seem to be quite as squicked about relationships between first cousins. I’ve done my fair share of hillbilly jokes and West VA ridicule but I’ve never had the instinctively horrified reaction to cousin relationships that I’ve had towards parent child relationships. I don’t know if that’s because I live in a world where that particular relationship is still prevalent in various societies or if it’s tied to my personal view of various family members. But it bears reflecting upon.

I apparently FAIL at life. Still got three papers due Monday, and now am behind on a story. And my sleep schedule is insanely not right.

I’m pretty sure my professors are all either hating me or disappointed in me at this point.

Things are falling apart. I’m watching it all fall apart, and all I have to do is hold it together with my hands, and I’m not moving.

This is not pain. This is motherfucking stupidity in the most motherfucking insane way.

Went to Kooza, it was awesome. Just got asked about bussing by Elaine. That was awesome, too.

Actually got some reading done, and heading back home at a reasonable time. AWESOME!

More on all, later.

Yeah, NaNo is down the tube.  Haven’t got but 200 words, when I should be closer to 20,000.  Plus, with schoolwork and being sick and general, spontaneous life happenings I haven’t got the time or the energy to make the time.

On the other other hand, I’ve got to finish writing a 7-10 page story, and workshop another six or so stories by Monday, so I’ll get a bit of writing done. I realized the other day that for a supposed writing major, I haven’t gotten a great deal of writing done. I’ll need to remedy that.

And cut my nails. This typing with nails thing is a bit of a bitch.

On the holy frijoles front (mmm, frijoles) I was looking back over older posts and figured out that it’s been over a year since I carved out this particular space in the blogosphere for myself. I haven’t kept up with it very well but hopefully that’s changing, and mostly I keep blogs as a way of reminding myself what happened at a particular point last week or last year anyways.

Well, it’s a bit late for a blogbirthday set of resolutions or a new year’s resolution so I’ll just have to tie this to my birthday, which is actually still two weeks away but maybe I can see how far I get in the intervening time. So here goes:

1. Keep up with homework and stuff: The readings aren’t just good for you, Tess. They’re fun and interesting and give you something to discuss with your crazy smart professors.GO TO CLASS!

2. Write more: You want to be a writer? Well, write. Yes, I know your shit is crap. It’s shit and crap. But you’ve got some interesting ideas and a pretty quirky voice when you’re not trying too hard. Sure you’re going to write crap but if you keep writing it, sooner or later it’ll be good crap.

3. What happened to being excited about the campus environment and all Charm City has got to offer? Yes, I know it’s a pain, especially when you’re not feeling well but don’t you want a life you can tell stories about?

4. Diamonds aren’t a girl’s best friend. Friends are. Good job with the calling peeps but figure stuff out. Actually hang out with the APO peeps instead of just showing up for brother meetings. Call Jules, Shane, and Chuck for dinner. Email Julie; you need her and she needs you. For pete’s sake, just take the bus down to Nica’s. Sure you might need to spend some extra effort getting there and back but she’s totally worth it.  Email Shoaib for Sunyia. It might be awkward and of course you don’t know if it’ll actually be helpful but do it anyways. Because she asked.

5. Don’t just reject guys. Give ‘em a chance. Don’t shut them out if they start getting too close. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to let one of them in. If only because you don’t want to be a crazy lizard lady at age 65. And while you’re at it, try to be at least a little more attractive and a little less of a bitch. Not that bitchy isn’t attractive but those aren’t the kind of people you want to attract anyways.  At least, not right now.

There’s a whole post’s worth more where that came from but it’ll have to wait ’til next year.

The weekend is no longer the pristine marker of fun and games that it used to be in my childhood but it does serve as a bit of breathing space from my own idiocy and inability to maintain any kind of deadline or schedule. So the college student weekend ( at least my version of it) is actually pretty sad, especially since I don’t drink.

That’s right, peoples. I don’t drink. As in, any fluids, ever. Yep. I get by on weekly doses of Jensen Ackles, Lee Pace, and Damian Lewis, instead.

My top priorities right now are sleep and catching up on my schoolwork. In that order. Plus, getting over this really frakking annoying cough.

Once I get caught up, though, it’s fun, friends, and family times. Plans for this weekend include going to check out Chris and Iris’ new place and going to Cirque du Soleil’s Kooza and watch all the pretty bendy people over at National Harbor with the ‘rents (sigh, I guess we’ll let the president of UMCP’s chapter of SigChi come, too).

If I thought I had enough brain consciousness to tide me over, I’d want to watch Quantum of Solace. Not that you really need a working brain to watch a Bond film (boom, boom, va va voom, anyone?).

Current desert island music: Bear Mcreary, acoustic Ingram Hill

Discovered: Brodsky Quartet, The Salteens, Black Lips, Kristin Hersh

Apprehensive about: Writing an actual story, NaNoWriMo, reading Phil K. Dick, APO elections, spring courses, homework

Watching: Life, Pushing Daisies, Office, Big Bang Theory, Daily Show, 30 Rock, Crusoe, Sarah Connor Chronicles, Supernatural

Reading: Sailing to Sarantium by Guy Gavriel Kay, Philip K. Dick, Oscar Wilde, Tanith Lee

Soon off to: Home, blissful land of food less than two weeks old and clean laundry

Weight: 129 lb

edit: I lied. I never actually viewed the weekends as a golden, glorious opportunity to have fun. Actually, I think I ended up going to extra math classes most weekends.

Man, my life was really frakking Asian.

These posts are just inane, but I promised to write one a day, and I’d like to at least pretend to stick with it. At the moment, I’m sick and dirty and smelly and brain dead because becoming even mildly sick with a cold or flu seems to drain my body of the will to live like a proper 21st century citizen, who, with her easy access to hot running water and chemically enhanced soaps and several layers of comfy, cotton clothing, should not be willing to forgo all that for a wallowing in sniffly misery.

Well, started this yesterday but got sidetracked by my crazy aching body and sleep deprivation induced nausea so instead, there gets to be a post today about the lack of brain matter and energy in my, well, brain at the moment.

Uterus again. Stupid, stupid uterus.

But beautiful, beautiful House and Big Bang Theory. Made my night.

Sick to my throat and nose. Gonna get kicked out of the DMC lab soon. Haven’t got any reading or homework done.

But it’s all good. I’m going to sleep, and wake up tomorrow a new woman.