Hello, Insomnia, my Old Friend...

Most anyone who knows me beyond a passing acquaintance knows the following:

• I enjoy historic pursuits
• I enjoy being Lutheran
• Cancer is bullshit.

I think that most people know the latter anyway because who can really disagree that cancer is bullshit? The two former facts are, if we trace them back to their origins, brought to you by my mother's parents, my grandma and grandpa, Anna Lou and E.H. Grote. Doing a bit of math, which I had heretofore not done, I discover that they were, respectively, fifty and fifty-five when I was born in 1984. My mother is presently fifty-five.

My grandma, Anna Louise Heidensohn (for whom I am named), was born on 1 April 1933, which is the same day that the National Socialists began a boycott all of the Jewish businesses in Germany. It only made it three days because most German shoppers viewed it with a shrug, and when my grandma was three days old, they called it off.

My grandpa, Ehler Herman Grote, was born on 25 June 1928, on which date, as far as I know, nothing else of note occurred. However, it is important to note that 25 June is Leon Day, and thus my grandfather shares his birth date with the half birthday of one of the most influential men in western civilisation.

I spent a significant amount of time with them when I was smallish to medium. When Grandma and I were not running errands in town or fixing fences or some such, she would draw our family trees (which are large) and explain to me who all is related to whom and how, and tell me stories about their lives. My favourite stories were about her parents. My great-grandfather, Walter Herman Heidensohn, immigrated to San Antonio from Germany in the twenties. His movement has inspired a paper which I am hoping will meet success in the next eight months or so; he grew up in World War I Germany and his elder sisters gave up their rations so that he would be less malnourished. Less. He was a man of short stature since there was no food when he was meant to be growing, and I suspect that the malnourishment caused him to have a weak heart. He died of a heart attack on 4 July of either 1958 or 59.

Grandma told me stories about the Berlin Wall (the only time I ever heard her say anything which could be construed as profanity was when she was explaining that they built it right through cemeteries, and that it was a "hellish" thing to do. I can think of some significantly stronger words to describe it, but the impact was there), and about her cousin who was in the German Army (the Wehrmacht, says twenty-seven year old me) and was captured and taken to Battle Creek, Michigan, where he spent the remainder of the war. My great-grandfather wrote to him often, and as a result was investigated, so the story goes, by the FBI. Men in suits came to his workplace, Central Power and Light in Corpus Christi, to question him.

Fortunately, his boss, a Mr. Floyd Salmon, informed the men in suites that he was "no damned Nazi," and we lived happily ever after. Lucky, that, says twenty-seven year old me, because while the Japanese took the brunt of the internment during World War II, there were Germans at Crystal City. It is a very real possibility that had Mr. Salmon not stood up for him, Grandma and Aunt Dene would have come home from grade school to find their house empty, as happened to a not insignificant amount of German- and Japanese-descended children at that point. The government would just haul off the parents. Twenty-seven year old me is relieved that ten year old me did not know that, because ten year old me was paranoid enough as it was.

My grandpa could do anything, and he often did. He built the addition to their house. Without plans. Seriously. And he used a good deal of recycled material to do it. He taught me how to use a scroll saw when I was ten, and I was fourteen when he taught me how to use the lathe. He crocheted. He built a large bird house for his sundry birds (twenty-seven year old me wishes that I had met Amber earlier, because they could have talked about birds). He taught me to ride a horse and to not be afraid of large hooved creatures.

Amber is concerned because I have not gone to church in a very long time. The thing is, church, to me, is not an activity to its own end. If I want to experience G-d, I can sit right here, or outside, or on a hill. Church, for me, has always been about tradition, and history, and ritual (notably, the opposite of what the average evangelical thinks church is about. Church, I have been told, is not about tradition, or history, or ritual, and in fact, if one thinks that it is about those things, they are in danger of going to Hell. Yeah, they can go to Hell). Church is sitting between Grandma and Grandpa while they sing "I Love to Tell the Story" or sitting next to Aunt Carol while she pokes me in the ribs during "Lead On, O King Eternal" or listening to Uncle Don sort of yodel his way through "Earth and All Stars," (I defy anyone to try to sing it without yodeling, in his defence) and after the service making jokes about the folks behind us bringing buckets in which to carry the tune.

Church is sitting to my mom while she inevitably cries during "Lift High the Cross" -- something which disturbed me profoundly until I was about seventeen -- and makes notes on the bulletin about what the pastor is saying during the sermon.

Church feels kind of empty without all of that, and I fear that the memory is not enough. I have to conjure up my grandma's voice on a weekly basis or I feel I will forget how she sounded when she was praying with me, or calling the cats for breakfast, or explaining to me about Germany and Germans and how we are not, in fact, like Hitler (who was "an evil, evil, EVIL man"). Now I am going to have to do the same with my grandpa's, because when he called me last Saturday and I missed the call, he declined to leave a voice message.

I fear that I am going to lose myself now that I have lost them both. I have not slept worth a damn since last Sunday and I am awake right now because when I tried to sleep earlier, my overactive imagination went on a bender bringing up images of my sundry forebears dying. If I did not have Amber right now, I do not know what I would do.

Actually, I know exactly what I would do because I know what I did eleven years ago: I did not eat, I did not sleep. I watched Designing Women for three weeks straight and never left the couch. I cried all. the. time.

Right now, I am merely not sleeping, and I cry only most of the time, and I eat every so often. No Designing Women yet. I even managed to have a good dinner with two of my best friends and some slushy vodka lemonade with no repercussions.

A lot of it is still really surreal. I mean, I made the bulletins. I called the church where my grandpa and I were both baptised so as to get the date of his baptism. My sister and I had them printed. My aunt and cousins and I folded them. My other grandparents and two aunts and an uncle came to express their condolences. We went shopping in San Antonio so that I would have something to wear. Amber drove to Austin and back so that we would have pictures and a hymnal. I gave what was possibly the worst eulogy in the history of mankind, and none of it seems real.

Yet I grieve.

Braaaaaaains.

I require a supercomputer (or at least several non-supercomputers hooked up via Linux nodes and thus combining their power), several books on mathematical theory, time, and German.

There is not enough time for me to know what I want, nor do I have the ability, I am afraid.

Edit: My dear mother, please tell me at the beginning of a phone conversation if you are eating dinner or similar. I will be most happy to call you back.

ENDA and the Ts

ENDA, for those who don't know, is a bill before Congress which is meant to prevent workplace discrimination against homos (in a similar vein to the Civil Rights Act of 1967, which left out homos and folks with disabilities; the disabled got added in the nineties). ENDA has been thirty years in the making and this year, for the first time, might have a chance to pass.

So, what's the problem?

"T"

Transgendered, transsexual (not transvestite. Guiliani is still covered). The newest version of the bill had the T in it, but Barney Frank, the openly homotastic sponsor of the bill chose to drop the T because there is no way in hell it would pass with the T in it. And then all hell broke loose.

John Aravosis, of AMERICAblog, wrote this article on Salon regarding the issue, as well as blogging about it extensively. And, as Aravosis is wont to do, he upset some people; my raison d'blog is this post on the Curvature. I generally respect the writers of the Curvature and the associated feminist blogs, and I respect their opinion this time, but I do think their reasoning is faulty. Follows is the comment I left on the Curvature; I think it sums my feelings up:

Frankly, I think y'all are a) taking Aravosis out of context, and b) passing too harsh of judgment upon him.

The first sentence of the paragraph whose quote, in this blog, begins "Civil rights legislation -- hell, all legislation..." actually begins in Aravosis' article as "The main argument, which I support: practical politics." And he's right. Yes, I agree fully that it sucks that women did not get the vote (federally) for fifty years after black men. And I fully understand the consternation of everyone on account of that. However, and I am saying this as a white gay female -- I think it is better for a minority to be partially represented than Not Represented At All. Furthermore, if you get into the history of the suffrage movements, for one thing it was a huge step for black men to even be recognised as men (and for black women to be recognised as women), and for another, there was precedent for -men- to vote. Women voting, no matter what their race, was a whole other kettle of fish for the country to deal with.

Does this make it right? Hell no. Never, at all. But it -is- the political evolutionary process. Things take time because people are stubborn. For me (or anyone) to argue passage of ENDA with the T or not at all, we would have to cease taking advantage of civil unions, domestic partnerships, and the domestic benefits offered by some employers. Why? Because our ultimate goal is marriage, and anything less is an insult, right?

I disagree -- while I would prefer (of course) federally recognised marriage, right now I would be happy knowing that any kids/cats/wealth I produce with my future wife would go to her if something hideous happens to me, and vice versa. If the government has to call that a civil union in order for that to happen, then so be it.

I fully understand that my example is different from the "T or not to T" issue -- but my point is that -any- step towards protection for the nontraditional/heterosexual community is a step in the right direction, and I believe that would be the point which Aravosis is arguing.

As for Aravosis being judgmental, the full sentence reads "I'm not passing judgment, I respect transgendered people and sympathize with their cause, but I simply don't get how I am just as closely related to a transsexual (who is often not gay) as I am to a lesbian (who is). Is it wrong for me to simply ask why?"

So the man is saying that he does not identify with the transsexual/transgender experience, but that he DOES identify with the gay experience. It looks to me like he's being honest. He is not being judgmental; he is saying that he does not feel related to a man who identifies as a woman. What's wrong with that? I cannot begin to identify with the experience of any given black person, and you know what? I cannot identify with the transsexual or transgender experience either.

Does this mean that I, and therefore Aravosis, find that the T does not deserve protection? By his own words, no, and neither do I.

The passage of ENDA (sans the T) at least puts the gay community into a better position to provide support and protection for the T community, and that alone is reason enough for its passage. Is it ideal? Not at all, and as soon as it passes we have to immediately begin work for an amendment to include the T, but progression and reform in this country has NEVER happened at once, it has NEVER been anywhere near good enough on the first go (just look up how Jim Crow affected the black man's vote), and it has NEVER affected all parts of any community equally.

We have to keep working for that, and in the interim, turning on people who dare be honest about their opinions (which may or may not coincide fully with our own) will be only a slide backward.

I am, as most people know, a fervent arguer against the excuse, as I see it, of the zeitgeist, or the time period in which something happened. I think that is a pass on all of the atrocities committed by people at other people. I have never stood for the argument of "Well, that's just how things were," because that leaves us open for "Well, that's just how things are," and I don't think that human morality has evolved that much -- we know, in our brains and hearts whether or not it is ok to enslave, beat, kill, and oppress each other, but we do whatever is most convenient and what ensures our own power. Because I'll bet you that if Jesus Christ Himself were to show up and officiate a gay wedding, the fundies would crucify Him.

At any rate, my point is that despite the fact that slow change is not at all quick enough, it is the reality of how things work. That does not make it right at all, and it seriously pisses me off when people tell that it's just how things work; I think that people should, as soon as they recognise hideousness, change it, instead of the process. However, the process is better than nothing at all, and it is unfair to eviscerate people who argue in favour of doing a practical something rather than a symbolic nothing.

Atheists and Christians and making the Twain meet? Part One of however long it takes me to figure this out.

So, day before yesterday I read this over at Blondesense and was freaked right out. This occurred for a variety of reasons, not the least of which being the the serious hostility I perceived in the writing. I decided to ruminate/marinate on the subject before I posted a piteous and/or angry reply, and I am glad I did on account of what transpired in the comments, the upshot of which is this:

yes, we are bashing religion - we ALWAYS do. we are not dehumanizing religion. I don't even know what that means. Actually, if you think about it, religious beliefs are what cause most "believers" to be hateful of others and to dehumanize. AND, the catholics are the biggest bunch of racists I know.

What frustrates me and our gang here is that we could really use the majority of believers out there because most ARE good people. We need them to wake up to the fact that their leaders are using "faith" (religious beliefs) to get away with what ever they want to do. It's been working like a charm for a few thousand years now!

and

we get angry at "them, they, those..." and I especially get mad at the "good christians" who don't take a stand. THEY piss me off. Yes, I love most of them BUT THEY PISS ME OFF TO NO END. And there's nothing I can do about it.

Fair enough, I realised. Which, this discussion also led to a clarification on the use of the word "Christian." Bloggers on this particular blog coined a term a while back, "Christianistas" either in response to the use of the word "Islamists" in the media, or to differentiate from normal people who, unfortunately, seem to share a religion (though, in my opinion, not a faith) with these power-hungry crackheads. Which is a totally academic term.

I can completely understand where your average atheist, Atheist, agnostic, unaffiliated and unconcerned, or other nonmainstream religion practicer comes from on account of the Christianistas do the same damn thing to your average mainline Protestant. And also to your completely non-average, non-mainline, but still essentially Lutheran, Protestant. I am really quite sure that the Quad preachers will show up next week.

And Jersey Cynic, who was the author of the post in question and the above comment bits, raises an incredibly fair point: "good Christians" are being anything but "good" if we/they do not put the smackdown on this kind of BS. Of course, going about that could be vaguely frightening and inconvenient (and will probably annoy Amber if she is with me when it happens), but when people are preaching hate in public, it is necessary that the smackdown be put on it or it will just grow.

Martin Niemoller, who spent time in Sachsenhausen and Dachau, but fortunately survived, wrote this:

When the Nazis came for the communists,
I remained silent;
I was not a communist.

When they locked up the social democrats,
I remained silent;
I was not a social democrat.

When they came for the trade unionists,
I did not speak out;
I was not a trade unionist.

When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out.

It is incumbent on those who call themselves Christians to speak out for those who are NOT Christians (and for those who are not their denomination), lest something similar happen. And no matter what anyone says, if we just let it go, it WILL happen, because that is how it happened in the first place.

What does this mean for relationships between nonbelievers and Christians? I think it is a critical time for us to prove that we are, in fact, able to love those who may or may not love us back, who do not agree with us. If we are to call ourselves Christians then we most certainly make an attempt at behaving like that guy who we believe is the Christ. Otherwise, we can have all the faith in the world (as to move mountains, as it were) and we will yet have NOTHING.

If that happens, all the dogma and platitudes and feeling secure in ourselves will be for naught, because if the God in whom I put my faith does, in fact, exist, then He is going to think that we are full of crap and is going to let us know about it. Looking at the way that Christianity has evolved since the time of Jesus of Nazareth, I can completely see why people choose to turn away from it, and I honestly think the only reason why I have not is because I would rather try to fix it than give up.

Probably more later.

From the Department of You have Got to be Kidding Me:

Tom %&$(@#* Cruise is making a new movie. Why do I care? Because the movie is Valkyrie, and %&$(@#* Cruise is meant to play Colonel Claus von Stauffenberg, who is the guy who attempted to assassinate Hitler in the 20 July plot with a briefcase full of explosives.

Danger, Will Robinson, Danger: Historical blah blah blah ahead.

Hitler wasn't killed by the blast (obviously). There were two bombs; von Stauffenberg had previously lost his right and and all but three fingers of his left, so when he was attempting to arm them in the bathroom, with not a lot of time, he was only able to get the one armed. For reasons unknown to history, he did not put the second bomb in the briefcase, but handed it to his assistant instead. He went into the conference room and put his briefcase under the table, then left to "make a call." One of the guys still in the meeting room moved his briefcase down to the far end and behind the table leg because it was in the way and people kept kicking it. Thus, the blast was deflected.

However, a recent History Channel documentary which completely reconstructed the whole thing, what actually happened, and what could have happened, showed that if von Stauffenberg had put the second bomb in the briefcase anyway, Hitler would have been screwed. von Stauffenberg and his aide were executed the next day.

Anyway, Tom %&$(@#* Cruise? To play von Stauffenberg? Fortunately, the Germans have banned %&$(@#* Cruise from the country on account of he is a Scientologist. Now, on a humourous level, I think this is great and that more Scientologists should be banned from more places, especially when their name is Tom %&$(@#* Cruise. However, I'm not sure it's the best thing in the world to ban Scientologists from a country on a serious level, because even though I think they are full of shit, allegedly, they should still have the right to practice their religion. Except for the part where they tell Brooke Shields that she shouldn't take antidepressants.

Anyway, my hope is that the movie makers will continue with Valkyrie, and will pick someone who is not annoying to play von Stauffenberg.