Diversity

I'm not naming names, but someone close to me has been posting stuff about immigration recently on Facebook -- stuff like "Like and Share this picture if you don't want to be forced to learn a second language to accommodate illegal immigrants." You know the stuff I mean, I'm sure.

This saddens me, really a lot for several reasons: first, no one is being "forced" to learn a second language in order to "accommodate" anyone. There are several very good and valid reasons, some of them solely about the way our brains create neural pathways, for learning a second language. We are a member of a global society; not everyone we are ever going to interact with speaks only English or even halfway decent English (although my understanding is that it's becoming more and more common a second language in other countries). And if we were in fact being forced to learn a second language for the sake of others, surely there would be a standard language that was the only second language available to learn (maybe varying regionally?) Not to mention many fields of study's jargons can be almost like having to learn a completely different language (have you ever asked or been asked "Once more, in English this time, please?").

Chinese dragon

SO.

My biggest reason why stuff like this saddens me is that it seems to want to homogenize our nation. Setting aside the question of the legality of the immigrants speaking other languages -- we have no way of knowing, just from looking at someone, if they're legal or not; language is hardly a clue. They may very well be able to speak and understand English but choose not to on what they consider home ground, or may have trouble with it for one reason or another.

One of the things I find most fascinating and compelling about the United States is all the little pockets of foreign culture that pockmark the country. You can, in some cases, literally cross a street and be immersed in a completely different way of life: different styles of architecture and decoration, dress, food...and language is a vital and integral part of that. How much less magical would Chinatown be if all the shopkeepers and passersby and customers spoke in unaccented, textbook, workaday American English? What nuances would be lost?

Taste of Greece 2012 -- Chicago (from: Greektown Chicago)

This country was built, as it is now, on immigration, and for many many years there were few if any restrictions. The people who came here came searching for something that was not available to them in their home countries: freedom to make their own choices, freedom from religious persecution, jobs...are we now to turn others away from the search for those same things? I get that we can't support the entire world. There are people here who are still looking for work, who are persecuted for their religious beliefs, even, ironically, those who use their religious beliefs as grounds to persecute others. And there were people harmed -- harmed DEEPLY -- by the way European settlers went about creating nations on these continents. We're not perfect. But it seems to me hypocritical in the extreme to on one hand proclaim what a great country we are, and on the other, attempt to deny all the things which made us.

Irish step dancers (from Savannah Irish Festival)

More thinking-out-loud about girly parts and sexual content of books and what doesn't bother me.

We seem to have a new kerfuffle which is really just an old kerfuffle revisited around the community in which I read and interact. We'll just call it the OMGLADYBITS!! problem and move on from there.

I'm just going to make a brief rebuttal of some things that were said on a site which shall be nameless (if for some reason you don't know but want to, email or something and I'll tell you but you will probably be all head-asplodey) and which I have since removed from my blog feed because really? I don't need that shit in my life right now, and anyway, as a review site it was becoming less and less relevant to my actual INTERESTS, y'know, because of how books that I thought sucked donkeywater were given highest accolades and books that I thought were funny/cute/interesting/otherwise pushed some boundaries in an opening-up-the-mind kind of way were dismissed as lame/trite/blah/whatthefuckever.

ANYway.

I read. I read a LOT of stuff, yeah, some "Literary Fiction" and some nonfiction, and mystery and science fiction and fantasy and and and... yeah. Most of what I read, though, is romance. Or one of the other things with strong romantic elements.

People like to put things in boxes.

Boxes are OK, sometimes. I mean, I like to have a box (basket, drawer, whatevs) to keep my cheeses separate from my eggs separate from my condiments in my fridge. I have a nice little box in the pantry which I keep full of approved snack items for my kids where they can reach, and I have another nice little box out of their reach where I keep the "Only Occasionally" treats. I have a box for the kitty litter, because, let's be honest, you *don't* want that just spreading out all over the floor.

You know what I don't put in boxes? Books.

Piles, yes. Shelves, naturally. Randomly stuck down the side of the couch so I can pick it right back up in the morning? Oh, HELLS yeah. Boxes, though? Not so much. Only when we're moving. Or I'm mailing them to someone. For a while, I kept some in a box under my bed, but then I decided I wasn't ashamed of it, I just didn't want my 7YO boy reading b/c Holy Inappropriate, Batman! So I put all that stuff on the bottom shelf of the bookcase in my bedroom where no one but my mom and my sister ever look, and they're grown-ups and if they go poking and get shocked, SO NOT MY PROBLEM.

Also, do you know what paper books don't have that a lot of ebooks (especially from small presses) do? Warning labels. To me, that's like the Darwin Awards-worthy labels on push mowers warning the user not to pick it up & try to use it to trim the hedges. I mean, really. They should all say "Warning: Thoughts Ahead. Make Sure Mind Open, Or Put Down NOW."

So, when I read romance, I don't go into it with any expectations, beyond the expectations of a minimum of typos. And that I will be entertained (unless I'm reading for some reason other than entertainment. Even then, entertainment is a plus). And if I'm reading a romance written within the last 20 or so years, I do generally expect sex. Particularly if it's an erotic romance, when I expect LOTS of sex. Hopefully well-written sex, but I will settle for cliche and throbbing parts and excessive dampness. The point is, though, I don't look for a particular TYPE of sex. I'll take girl parts, boy parts, alien parts... in whatever combinations and numbers. I've never been "blindsided" by menages, or het sex in a gay romance, or gay/lesbian/trans* sex in a het romance. In fact, one of the reasons I gravitated AWAY from het romance is that it has been feeling too confining. There's a formula for sex, and a formula for characters, and a formula for story. I hoped by moving over toward more of a LGBTQ-friendly reading space, I would come across different types of relationships, characters who didn't fall into the same old stereotypes, new takes on old tropes...

For the most part, I've found that. There's been less of the -LBTQ than of the G-, granted, but I'm digging a little deeper and seeing more. I'm seeing more interracial romances, some May-Decembers where the balance of power is a bit different. I'm even seeing more babies -- with fewer Plot Moppets, although still plenty of those -- which I love (side note: I've seen some people despairing that some of their favorite series are moving toward the baby-crazy, despite being m/m pairings. I'm all like, YES PLEASE MORE OF THAT! because you don't have to be ovaried to believe "Families should grow, not shrink." (quote from Strawberries for Dessert by the lovely Marie Sexton).

So, dear authors who might accidentally read this, Give me girly bits along with the man-sex! I'll read it! The only place I demand to know what to expect sexually is the space where I'm sharing said sexual content with my very own husband in our very own bed. I don't object to warnings about dubious consent because my enjoyment of that is dubious, at best, but I also don't refuse to read it. And I only DNF if I can't actually connect with characters or plot -- some of those stories would probably have been improved by more sex! Give me variety! Give me interesting people doing interesting things! (It doesn't have to be save-the-world interesting; I'm a homebody, so domestic weirdness interests me.)

And, hey, if I ever run across ACTUAL heterosexual intercourse in a romance with gay male protagonists, maybe I'll be shocked enough to actually review it!

This is me just running my mind, so bear with...

I think the biggest political issue, in the US, right now is what we might call the "threat to the status quo." For many, many years the people making all the decisions were men of similar educational/religious/financial background, with similar values and desires, and they were mostly legislating from those values and desires, without considering the values and desires of others (because, let's be honest, we only really notice other people's when they come into conflict with our own, and if the other person has no power behind them, they don't come into conflict with us.)

So we've got the Old White Guy majority in the political arena, and all of a sudden people of different background start Getting Ideas!

Women's Rights!

Segregation!

Now it's voting and immigration and gays, all at once, and the Old White Guys have been bleeding from a million tiny cuts and they're determined to hang on to their political majority (even if it's largely contrived and they're clinging by their fingernails to the edge of the cliff). They're losing, and they know they're losing, but they're not ready to lose yet, so as more cuts come, they are trying to close up some of the old ones.

That's why abortion and reproductive issues are back in the spotlight, and why every legislative "focus group" is comprised of older men with a religious background that opposes anything that puts a hold on procreation.

In the backs of their minds, they're thinking "We gave you this, and we thought we were done with you and now you're back, wanting MORE, so in return you're going to have to give this back to us."

It may take us a few more years yet, but eventually, it will become apparent that there are more of US than there are of THEM, and even some of them are becoming disillusioned. Once you've seen the vocal minority as a group of people, with thoughts and feelings and opinions, it's difficult to unsee that. I think the problem I have with the Old White Guys is that they tend to look at women, children -- really, anyone Not Like Them -- as intellectually like a sort of superior (by which I mean "with opposable thumbs and therefor capable of following more sophisticated direction) domesticated animal, rather than as individuals with the ability to reason and consider and question and, y'know, have Free Will (but that's a rant for another place and time, honestly). 

Which is why I think homophobia IS, in fact, a fear -- a ridiculous one, perhaps, but not necessarily unreasonable. The Rainbow Flag (and all its allies) stand to acquire a fair amount of power, and when they do, they will be prying it from the hands of the Old White Guys who just want to maintain the status quo. And once they lose that power, it's GONE, and many of them will have nothing left, because if they can't have political power, what's the rest of it all FOR, after all...

Giant....sex?

Oh, dear. It's just no good.

I'm in the middle of a reread of the Harry Potter books (including a rewatch of all the movies) because DinoBoy (the 9YO) started reading them, and...

Well, I mean, I *knew* Hagrid was half-Giant, since the first time I read...whichever book it was. Goblet of Fire? Anyway...

It's just that now, for some reason, it's occurred to me to actually, y'know... think about that. You know. Giant sex. Or, rather, HALF Giant sex.

Or, well, to be completely accurate, Human + Giant sex.

So, yeah.

Giants are, on average, in the Potter-verse, around 20 feet tall, right? And the average human between 5'6" and 6', depending on whether they're male or female, which is still, at best, just over 1/3 the size.

SO, yeah.

I mean, the idea of a human male with a Giant female is a bit... well. Rather like a terrier humping a Rottweiler, honestly.

However, a male Giant with whatever human? What kind of a size queen would you have to BE???

(So, yeah, apparently my imagination is even more twisted than *I* gave it credit for being.

Also, I am NOT going to Google Giant sex. I am not, I am not, I am NOT!)

Edible Flower Gardening?

It's no secret to my friends that I can be a bit...weird, and even hobbyist sometimes. I get on these weird hobbyhorses and ride them straight into the ground. Sometimes I let them recover for a few years and hop right back on. Right now, I'm being maybe a tiny bit obsessive about gardens. Odd because I'm not really an outdoors-y type, but, well, I like flowers and I like fresh vegetables, and the bugs and dirt and sunburns are kind of a necessary part of all that. So.

A couple of years back, my husband got me a couple of bare root roses for a birthday present -- one a climber called Zephirine Drouhin, the other a... I don't know. Hybrid tea? Floribunda? Grandiflora? Not a clue, but I do know she's named "Sweetness." Lovely, delicately pale purple blossoms, lemony fragrance. & Zephirine has some very very PINK blossoms and a gorgeous fragrance. Anyway. After several years of judicious pruning, Zephirine is an explosion of blossoms this year, so I've been wondering what to do with the petals -- our climate is such that I've gotten 2-3 or sometimes 4 blooming periods from my roses.

So I started looking into things like rosewater. Rosewater is a great thing for cosmetic use, but it's also used as flavor in recipes (like for delicate clear soups, for pastries, etc.). Of course, for either use, you want to use rose petals that are free of pesticides, and the only way to truly control that is by growing your own. The two methods of creating rosewater are to create a small stovetop still (which is actually pretty cool; gonna try that sometime!) or to steep rose petals in boiling water, rather like making tea. The steeping version requires rather less volume of fresh petals, although you can also use dried; but I really REALLY want to try the still, which means kind of a lot of petals. Which means more roses. Therefore... I've been researching methods of propagation.

SO, this year, I am going to be trying a couple of different methods of propagation. If one of them works for me, I may use it on my mom's roses; I've wanted to do that for years because they're lovely -- a white and a red -- but I've never really tried to figure out HOW. Additionally, I'm considering learning how to preserve the rose petals by drying so that I can use them in the future (or, y'know... make a sachet to throw in my lingerie drawer).

Part of my rambling through Teh Interwebz landed me on a list of edible flowers, so now I'm also kind of taken with the idea of planting my flower garden full of edible blossoms -- marigold, nasturtium, pansy, etc. -- and other edibles -- sunflowers might be nice, along with herbs and a few veggies. The biggest problems are that in the already semi-cleared garden section in front of the house there seems to be an underground nest of wasps which must be removed (in an ecologically sound way so that I can plant edibles there) and the fact that I'm going to have to dig up more yard. And probably there will be soil amendment necessary, as well.

Gonna be a task!

(Also, eventually, there will be pictures!)

Religion and Reading and a LOT of Rambling

So, I was chatting with a friend over Twitter about religion -- specifically regarding interpretation of the Bible/Torah/Your Holy Book of Choice -- and how that can damage people. And then I read an article somewhere about the movie (or TV miniseries? I don't know) called The Bible, wherein Satan was deliberately portrayed as Barack Obama (which just disgusts me on levels I don't feel up to getting into here and now) and THAT article discussed the whitewashing of the Bible in terms of artistic portrayals -- Jesus is Westernized as a very toned, pale-skinned, nearly-blonde man, instead of the medium- to dark-skinned Middle Eastern Jew he actually was. [ETA: here is the article] And then TODAY, I was chatting briefly with someone else about some of the defining books of our teens -- books like Good Omens, by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, and the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series by Douglas Adams -- and when it's appropriate to start indoctrinating my little Minions by reading them aloud at bedtime. My oldest, the Girl-child, at Very Nearly 13, is probably old enough to read them on her own, but sometimes I have difficulties getting her to actually, y'know, ACCEPT my suggestions. The boys are 7 and 9, and I think they *might* be a little young, but DinoBoy, the elder of the two, is pretty precocious and sophisticated in some ways, so I could be wrong about him. And I think he might enjoy some of the humor, even if he won't get a lot of the references for years yet, if ever.

And we mentioned, in passing, on Twitter, that we're only just now, as adults, starting to realize the number of those references and subtleties that we missed as kids, and how much deeper and richer certain narratives are when approached from this new, grown-up perspective.

So this little ramble today is probably going to be about those things -- books, particularly the ones I read as a teenager for the first time; how they affected me then; how they affect me now that I'm starting to share them more and more with my own kids; and, of course, though to a lesser extent, religion.

I think there are actually a LOT of books that I read in my teens which affected me profoundly then, but which I continue to be amazed and enthralled by (in new and exciting ways!) now that I'm an adult -- and more pertinently, perhaps, now that I'm married and a parent. Because I can't deny that those two things probably have more to do with the new sight than simple age. Just a few of those books, offhand, are the Anne of Green Gables series, Little Women, Good Omens, Hitchhiker's Guide, and most of Mercedes Lackey. I don't think I'm going to touch on ALL of them here today; it's been a while since I've read some of them, and I'm not too clear on some of the details, but suffice it to say that between Louisa May Alcott, Lucy Maud Montgomery, and the combination of Pratchett and Gaiman, I had *quite* a religious awakening as a teen.

I mean, I'd had a basic religious "education" as a kid. We went reasonably regularly to a surprisingly non-judgmental Baptist church in TN until I was 10, where I was completely miserable because I just could not make friends with any of the other kids in the youth group. I suspected then, and still do, that it was (as it sometimes still continues to be) the fact that I not only read, but I asked questions about what I read. And I expected logical, consistent answers, which religion is usually hard-pressed to provide. When I was 10, we moved to Ohio. We stopped going to church regularly, but when we did it was to services at a nearby Presbyterian church, and that was when I fell in love with the more formal service, and the music of religion, but still, most of the logic managed to elude me. At 12, we moved to a small town outside of Atlanta, and the nearest church was another Baptist Church -- a HUGE one, comparatively -- where the pastor preached about the Evils of Women in the Work Place, and about tithing. This went over like a lead weight with us, because at the time, my mom was the sole earner. A year later, we moved again, to Virginia, where my parents still live, and, again, had a bad Baptist experience, at which point, my parents pretty much gave up. They figured we had the basics of how to behave as socially responsible, polite little people, and the rest would work itself out on its own. And Mom made sure to leave various books lying around for our education and amusement.

So, Faith (of the kind that can, theoretically move mountains) wasn't exactly a high priority, nor was it mashed and stuffed down our throat like some kind of baby food for the toothless. We were given a basic road map, and the tools to navigate, and allowed to find our own way there, or not. And honestly, a lot of what passes for my faith was built on the backs of Anne Shirley and the March girls. They had what now seems like a simplistic but logical view based largely on the tenet "Do Unto Others" and they still struggled with that, in a way that I struggled with it. But they really tried to simply be kind to others, generous with those in need, and honest and non-judgmental with themselves and others. The "Thou Shalt Not" stuff was rarely, if ever, an issue, and, while I know it's probably more a sign of their times than a deliberate event, things like women bringing in a paycheck were not looked down on. Yes, there was a bit of racism/bigotry in some attitudes, and some classism, but those tended to be confined to the group of "older and set in their ways," rather than condoned by the characters the stories were really about.

However, I had issues with religion as it was presented to me in Real Life, particularly relating to things like the Old Testament's attitudes toward anything and everything, and how nobody seemed really interested in the Love & Kindness stuff unless it was directed toward them personally, and I really had trouble reconciling the omniscient/omnipotent God with the whole Garden of Eden and Fall of Lucifer, as well as the whole issue of free will, who has it, who doesn't, and why on Earth we would be told it was a huge gift from God in one breath while the next breath told us not to question what we were being told. There were just too many contradictions for me in all of that, and then World History started getting into the evolution of religion in the Western world, and there was fracturing and schisms and latching on to established Holy/Ritualistic/Spiritual days and just... I was spinning.

And then, my best friend and I were at the library together (as you do) and she handed me this book: hardback, black cover with white writing, nattily-suited angel and devil. "This is the funniest, smartest book I've ever read. You'll love it, I promise. I mean, listen to this list of characters!" and I was hooked when she got to the bit about Crowley: An angel who didn't so much fall as saunter vaguely downward.

So I read it. And read it again. And a third time, just to be sure. And it addressed -- and seemed to be just as bewildered by -- many of the same issues that had been bothering me, in that nebulous, can't-really-put-my-finger-on-it way, with humor and gentleness and sometimes harshness and... I was completely blown away. It wasn't me -- or wasn't JUST me. Some of this stuff didn't really make any sense!

And then, I passed it on to my mom, who also loved it. And my brother and sister...

And now, I've finally been able to reconcile my spiritual side with my skeptical side. Religion is all about interpretation, and doing the best you can. You can choose to believe blindly, thoughtlessly, the interpretation of others, or you can exercise free will and choose your own interpretation. I think the most important -- the ONLY important -- part of the Bible or any other religious work that I've studied (however cursorily) boils down to what we call the Golden Rule: "Do Unto Others As You Would Have Them Do Unto You."

In the end, if there is a God, I think I will be judged based on my intentions, not my slavish adherence to another's need to Be In Charge and Tell Others What To Do. I think He'll be a more generous judge than many "more religious" people seem to believe.

And if there's not? Well, by that point maybe I won't be aware. But either way, I'll have the personal satisfaction of know that I'm trying, as hard as I can, to be kind, generous, honest, loving, and non-judgmental.

What more can we really ask?

Roe v Wade

I just wanna post this here, because, honestly, I can't say what I want to say in Twitter's character limit, and I don't think that the bulk of my FB "audience" would be appreciative (scary how many uber-conservative friends I have -- they're otherwise decent people, but. Just. Scary.)

SO anyway, earlier today, my mom shared this link on FB: Lizz Winstead on Roe v Wade. She included this personal bit along with it:

The first person i ever knew who had an abortion was a 17 year old, older sister of a friend of mine. She performed it on herself, in the bathroom of her parent's home, using her mother's vacuum cleaner. She almost died. We all need to remember that the goal of the anti-choice crowd is to ensure that girls like her bleed out on the bathroom floor. Roe v. Wade did not make abortion possible-every woman with access to a vacuum cleaner or a coat hanger can perform an abortion on herself. The point of Roe v. Wade was to make it safe.

I can't really argue with any of it.

Women's physical safety and mental health are at stake. I can, in fact, kind of imagine what kind of desperation this young woman my mother knew must have felt. I managed to get pregnant just months into a brand-new relationship with a guy 11 years my senior, and, yeah, when I knew, I was pretty panicked! And I was 20, by then; I had a job, and I was pretty sure that my family would support me no matter what happened between me & the daddy, or whatever decision I made regarding the baby. As it turns out, we're still together, some 13 years later, but there are so many horrible ways that could have gone. I know just exactly how lucky I was, and am.

There is NO safe way to force your own body to abort in a bathroom... a back alley... any place other than a sterile environment with trained professionals making it happen and overseeing the process. The more restrictions we are weighed down with -- restrictions on when and how we can seek abortions, what we have to go through to get one, restrictions on contraceptives -- only make a DIY job seem more possible. And, frankly, if you're at that point, where that starts to look attractive... well, I can only imagine that you're that much closer to the suicide attempt it may well prove to be.

And now, I've procrastinated FAR too long, and must away, to the never-ending mountain of laundry and dishes.