Parallel

What kind of person can you imagine being in a parallel world? Is there an alternate life you can see yourself inhabiting—or becoming?

For me, I often imagine a universe in which I’m not on the autistic spectrum. It’s challenging to talk about this without being a downer. I also don’t want to make others on the spectrum feel like it’s a flaw or an extraneous trait to be pruned away. I think, though, that it’s important to be honest about my disability. And, honestly, there are many days I wish it wasn’t rooted into my DNA. I imagine a parallel world to move freely throughout. A place where I can drive, take off on road trips, and leave home by myself to make it further than just down the street.

I’ve had this condition since birth. As a child, it was less noticeable to me because most children have limited freedom. I also lacked the self-awareness to see it was much more pronounced back then.

Living on the spectrum can be like living as a message in a bottle. Transparent, inescapable, and easily cracked, but I can last so much longer than expected. I bob around on others’ tides to travel. My message is carefully kept, and it says something new every day.

I can fantasize about having alternate lives as an independent professional or a wanderer who travels just as far physically as she does mentally. I can live vicariously through other selves. Sometimes it feels pointless, but other times it helps. It makes a difference upon the realization that some of the things I daydream about can be done in this world, too. A bottle floated across the ocean to let me know I don’t need it. To say that sometimes the distance can be walked, too.

I don’t want to frame this topic only around myself. Who do you believe you could be in another reality, whether good or bad? Is there another version of you that could have existed if you’d changed a life decision or been born under different circumstances? And, when you find the more desired options within other universes, is there a way to carry any of them into yours?

You don’t have to tell me; just think about it. And, if you do want to share an answer but not on a comment thread, you can message me privately. Whoever you are.

Let’s talk about this.

The cardinal law of cliche

This is a 38-panel comic I’ve worked on nonstop for the past two months, and finally finished a few days ago. Basically, I wanted to satirize the pop culture tropes of “Cool Girl” and “Manic Pixie Dream Girl”—while making it clear that I don’t think the stereotypes are true (there’s a joke in the strip about neither of them existing in the real world). I’ve also always liked the idea of two female characters battling it out for a reason completely unrelated to a man. In this scenario, they’re vying for their place in the plot. What I’ve noticed from movies and TV is that “Cool Girl” and “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” never seem to occupy the same story, because both of them are always presented as the character the male protagonist is supposed to end up with. As you can probably guess, it doesn’t pan out that way here.

Most of you are likely aware of what “Cool Girl” and “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” mean, but I have been asked about those tropes by a few people who are unfamiliar with them. So, for everyone’s reference: http://tinyurl.com/gneg3wt and http://tinyurl.com/7ddlqgu . MPDG is known for being quirky, artistic, spontaneous, and playful in a childlike way. She tends to wear vintage-y clothes and have an indie vibe (think every character Zooey Deschanel ever plays). She bakes cupcakes and knits. She takes off on random road trips and force-feeds everyone sunshine. Cool Girl, on the other hand, is more of a tough girl who’s thought of as “one of the guys” (as silly as it is that such a quality means you’re thought of as a man). She’s constantly bragging that she’s “not like other girls.” Sort of like the Girl Next Door trope, except more high-adrenaline. A few friends who have seen the comic have asked if MPDG is supposed to be me, and the answer is no. Aside from the red hair, I don’t even think I look like her.

Also, several people have asked me who John Green and Nicholas Sparks are. They’re both real-life popular novelists. Nicholas Sparks writes saccharine stories that are basically extended Hallmark cards. John Green’s plots tend to be formulaic in a similar way, except his characters deliver the stories with witty, whimsical dialogue and while wearing scarves. (And this isn’t to mock him; I like John Green.)

I very well may continue this project. This could just be the first installment. The second might involve the characters struggling to form their own identities outside of the tropes they’re written into.

http://tapastic.com/episode/251539

Toying with gender roles

Amused by the idea that dolls are "girl toys," and that action figures and puppets are somehow completely distinct from dolls and therefore acceptable for boys to play with.

It's not even as if they're distinguished by whether the doll is supposed to be masculine or feminine. There are action figures of women and dolls that are supposed to be boys. It also has nothing to do with the imaginary scenarios they're cast into. When I was little, my Barbies fought in a lot of time-travel wars and the Megazord hosted tea parties. (There was also a whole ongoing love triangle between a Barbie, the green Power Ranger, and Ariel, but that was another story.)

It's just weird how we create all these arbitrary barriers. Any toy that's modeled to look like a person is, for all practical purposes, a doll--and that's fine.

You don't have to listen.

One narrative that sounds pretty silly upon examination is, "You can't just delete anyone from your friends list who disagrees with you! Real life doesn't work like that." I understand the message; that it's impossible to avoid interacting with others who have a clashing worldview. That's true, but is rarely a person's actual goal.

We all know people we disagree with fundamentally on a variety of topics, and with whom we share virtually no values. Working, going to school with, and living among them is a necessary facet of belonging to human society. Learning how to talk to people we don't agree with is an important skill. But that doesn't mean we're obligated to listen to hateful, willfully ignorant, and destructive ideas in a setting where that's actually optional. I don't believe that every opinion that opposes mine is harmful, nor am I certain that I'm correct about everything. But I have blocked, deleted, and sometimes just unfollowed people for repeatedly posting malicious things. Opinions like "females are thots", "[X minority racial group] are disgusting," "Gay people deserve to be murdered," "Jews are greedy" and "Poor people are lazy moochers" are not nuanced, original ideas I've never previously been exposed to. They're so common that they're longstanding stereotypes. Saying you hate a group or that they should die/be severely punished for their existence is not an argument. Calling a group a name is not an argument; it's just a slur. Granted, that may also apply to calling certain ideologies bigoted—that saying they're bigoted isn't making an argument; just calling a name—and maybe I'm less likely to notice that because of my own biases. But when I say something is bigoted, I'm probably venting instead of trying to persuade others to agree, because it doesn't seem possible to persuade someone who's just shouting slurs. The slur-shouters honestly think they have a valid theory you need to hear, though, and that you're doing yourself a disservice by closing that channel. They also seem to think their ideas are unique and rebellious. Those who disagree are well aware that a more progressive stance is not unusual, and that it doesn't have to be unique to have value.

The Iconoclast Effect, or how Lisa Simpson teaches us to kill our heroes

            We've all become disillusioned with a personal hero at some point, whether it was someone we knew or someone idolized by many. When I hear a news story exposing a beloved figure for corruption, I'm often hesitant to share it. Not because the truth is secondary to the ideals a person may represent—it's not—but because it's painful to see their admirers' respect shattered. I've never wanted to be a killjoy. There are times when I wonder if it's really worth posting about the less positive aspects of Pope Francis, seeing as he (or at least his public image) brings hope to so many LGBT Catholics. Or if linking to articles about Mother Theresa's exploitation of the poor is too demoralizing to people who are currently living in poverty and hold her dear as an icon. Or if talking about the fact that John Lennon beat his wife is discouraging to people who find solace in his beautiful, although hypocritical, pleas for peace. I wonder if the end justifies the means, when those who admire these public heroes don't actually promote corruption or bigotry. They admire those figures because they believe them to stand for compassion. But if a person supports someone who commits harmful acts or holds toxic beliefs, then are they inadvertently promoting that same negativity? That may be the case, especially if victims of their behavior are still alive and continue to be affected. This doesn't mean it's wrong to enjoy a person's work, as the work itself may transcend its creator. But it does mean it's best not to see the creator as noble or to excuse their behavior because of what they've made.
          This always makes me think of a Simpsons episode from 1996 called "Lisa the Iconoclast." In the storyline, Lisa discovers that a historical town hero named Jebediah Springfield was actually a fraud. The whole town has revered him for a century, to the point of having a local holiday and parade in his name. Lisa tries to expose the truth about Jebediah with limited success. She writes an essay which is met with dismay from her teacher. She makes flyers to hang up on the Kwik-E-Mart windows, but Apu panics and forbids her to display them. At the end, she's standing in front of the parade and prepared to make a public statement. She's about to announce to the town that Jebediah was a murderous pirate operating under a false identity. But at the last minute, Lisa changes her statement and tells them he was great. Afterwards, the head of the Springfield historical society asks her why she did it. Lisa answers that it was more important to keep the townspeople happy than to expose Jebediah for who he was, because his legend inspires them and provides a sense of community.
           This ending bothered me a great deal as a child. I didn't see it as upholding a loftier goal, but as backing down on her principles. Springfield hero-worshipped a mass murderer and lived in ignorance. What could be more important than the truth?
           In hindsight, I see this episode as a lot more ethically complex. None of the people who had been robbed or otherwise wronged by Jebediah Springfield were still alive, and neither was anyone who would have been aware of his crimes. Placing the flyers on display in the Kwik-E-Mart would have likely jeopardized Apu's safety—not only because of the message, but because he was an Indian immigrant living in Springfield. Their region was insular and strongly focused on town pride. He was already seen as an outlier, so granting a platform for criticism of Springfield's beloved founder would have further reinforced that status. He would have gone from an outcast to a pariah. Lisa herself would have caused outrage, but most of it would have been directed at her parents. After all, her character is only eight years old. Everyone sees a young child's opinions as a direct reflection of their parents'.
            So, in Lisa's situation, I understand why she reached the conclusion she did and decided it was not a cause worth pursuing. The ending still leaves me unsatisfied, though. It feels like an injustice, both to Lisa's diligent efforts and to Jebediah's victims, to see her bury that fiery righteousness in order to appease the majority.
           In my imagination, there's an alternate world in which the Simpsons universe is real and the characters aren't suspended in time. Lisa grows up and publishes her research, which has not gone to waste. She doesn't have to announce it in front of an idealistic crowd, but it's there for those who want to find it. That's the ending I want to believe.
           And, in the end, that leads me to my conclusion about exposing flawed cultural icons. I think it's generally the ethical thing to do, but with caution and sensitivity and respect for the faith their admirers hold in their ideals. It may be difficult to find that balance, but it's worth striving for. It means knocking over a house of cards, but leaving the deck stacked for a more stable foundation.

Fetishization and fear

Most people seem to know a guy who rails against same-sex marriage but loves lesbian porn. The hypocrisy is pointed out, and it’s accurate. That type of attitude is hypocritical and wrong, although I’d say it’s not surprising.

For humans, the disgust and arousal impulses are very similar. It sounds counterintuitive because those feelings seem like opposites, but they stimulate the same part of the brain. That’s why a lot of people do things during sex that they might otherwise think of as “gross.” That’s why fetishes and phobias are often flip sides of the same coin. I learned that when a person has a fetish, it often used to be a phobia. It just happened to transform from a fear into something that intensely arouses the person, either by chance or as a coping method.

When someone is homophobic but also really into watching two women have sex, it’s both a fear and a fetish. Fetishes are usually applied to inanimate objects, whereas lesbians are obviously people, but a homophobe doesn’t see them as people. He sees them as objects he watches and fantasizes about and then rejects in disgust. (Women can definitely be homophobic too, but I’m using a straight man in this example because so many people have aptly brought up the fact that homophobic men who like lesbian porn are hypocrites.)

This can also be seen in politicians who draft anti-gay and anti-trans policies but are then caught having sex with gay and transgender people. If they’re sleeping with someone of the same gender, many people will respond by saying that homophobes are secretly gay. While it’s true that some are closeted and overcompensating, I’d say that it’s more than a matter of just being gay and not wanting the public to know. It’s a combination of fetishization and fear. If they are hostile toward the LGBT community, they are probably not respectful toward the person of the same gender whom they’re involved with. They most likely dehumanize them. And when a homophobic person is immediately assumed to be gay, that can reinforce the idea that gay people are their own worst enemies and that they’re the ones who are really oppressing each other, which absolves straight homophobes of responsibility.

How Ben Carson Inspires Anti-Choice Extremists

In light of the act of terrorism committed at a Planned Parenthood clinic last month in Colorado Springs, many have brought up the fact that mainstream anti-choice rhetoric often galvanizes the extremists. This rhetoric is frequently expressed by Republican political candidates, notably including Ben Carson. His stance is especially alarming when considering the fact that he’s lauded as the “reasonable” and “moderate” conservative option.

Carson is against same sex marriage, but enthusiastically supports the sanctity of marriage between church and state. He has also been consistently vocal about his anti-choice position. In an October interview on NBC’s “Meet the Press,” he stated that he believes abortion should be illegal even in the cases of rape and incest. Carson presents himself as guided by even-handed logic and reason, but look at this quote from the interview: “I’m a reasonable person and if people can come up with a reasonable explanation of why they would like to kill a baby, I’ll listen.”

The above quote is a prime example of begging the question (although it’s a statement, not a question). He frames it in a way that already assumes certain factors—that abortion is “killing a baby”, and that people seeking abortions are doing so because they “like” to terminate pregnancies. As if they derive joy and fun from the experience. This is the type of assumption that inflames anti-abortion fanatics to the point of wanting to murder doctors and patients, because they see it as a genuine battle between good and evil.

As a person who has worked many years in the field of medicine and science, Carson should be well aware that an early-stage embryo is not a baby. Before it has a brain, it has no consciousness or subjective experience. Before it has nerves, it cannot feel pain. It makes no sense to personify such a pre-developed life form and to talk about it as if it experiences suffering. Because doctors are aware of this, their only reasoning for defining an embryo as a baby can be religious. This applies in Ben Carson’s case.

His religious ilk defends this rhetoric by citing Bible verses from Psalms saying “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.” Even purely within the context of that belief system, it can be argued that this isn't defining embryos as babies. It's King David talking about himself, not about all people. Additionally, Numbers 5:26-28 advises its readers to carry out a procedure that will cause their wives to miscarry if they suspect them of being pregnant with another man's offspring (“...If she has made herself impure and been unfaithful to her husband, this will be the result: When she is made to drink the water that brings a curse and causes bitter suffering, it will enter her, her abdomen will swell and her womb will miscarry, and she will become a curse.”) This is from a recipe to deliberately induce abortion. There are Old Testament passages in which “God” threatens to slice open the bellies of pregnant women (Hosea 13:16). Thus people can't accurately argue that the Bible forbids or even frowns upon ending the life of fetuses. Some might respond to the passages about cutting open pregnant women with, “Well, that's only under specific circumstances and only if ordered by God,” but that sounds like obvious straw-grasping. Going on to say “thou shalt not kill” is just talking in circles because no passage defines abortion as murder. Also, how many Christians take that to its absolute literal and all-encompassing conclusion? How many are vegetarians, for example? How many refuse to kill animals under any circumstance (if “all life is sacred”)?

The above argument aside, there is no reason a President or hypothetical President should be invoking religious rationale for laws in a country that is supposed to operate on separation of church and state. Ben Carson himself has acknowledged this in his explanation of why a theocratic Muslim is not fit to be president. For this issue, though, he doesn't seem to apply it to Christians.

The “Christian nation” he envisions may not include zealots opening fire at Planned Parenthood clinics, but his rationale packs the weight of their bullets. It’s time we start acknowledging the role that such viewpoints play in these acts of violence.