Analysis of a 'Breakdown'

Breakdown by Mariah Carey is one of my favorite songs in the world and one of the most capable of reducing me to a sobbing pile of man on the floor. Hyperbole aside, it is a great song. I started thinking of why, and came up with this analysis:

The song starts with Mariah's ad-libbed vocals and Bone Thugs saying:

Break-breakdown

Steady breaking me on down

Thus, we know we are about to get into heavy business. We have a very soft lyrical start:

You called yesterday

To basically say

That you care for me but

That you're just not in love

We have a moment of clarity at the outset. We know how all of this began. Each of the line breaks indicates a pause in Mariah's singing, which I think is important. I can imagine her telling this story to a friend, trying to catch her breath, or trying to slow down as not to cry. Mariah continues her story, still rather soft-spoken, mirroring the sentiments of the lyrics:

Immediately I pretended to be feeling similarly

And led you to believe I was okay

To just walk away from the

One thing that was yielding and sacred to me.

To think that she could say all of that without breaking down is astounding, but she relates it rather 'nonchalantly' (an important word which shows up in the chorus). Next, we actually have the chorus:

Well I guess I'm trying to be nonchalant about it

But I'm going to extremes to prove I'm fine without you

But in reality I'm slowly losing my mind

Underneath the guise of smile gradually I'm dying inside

Friends ask me how I feel, and I lie convincingly

'Cause I don't want to reveal the fact that I'm suffering

So I wear my disguise 'til I go home at night

And turn down all the lights and then I break down and cry

In the sound of her voice, she is trying to be nonchalant, to pretend as though she isn't phased. I can imagine telling this story and acting as though I were okay, smiling as though I can get over it. It kinda reflects the 'denial' stage of grief, not believing it's over. Next comes anger...:

What do you do when (when)

Somebody you're so devoted to

Suddenly just stops loving you,

And it seems they haven't got a clue

Of the pain that rejection is putting you through?

She doesn't know why she's going through this, so she's asking 'What the hell do I do? How do I deal with this situation?' I can sense both the anger and sadness here. The rest of the verse:

Do you cling to your pride, and sing 'I will survive'?

Do you lash out and say 'How dare you leave this way'?

Or do you hold on in vain as they just slip away?

It seems as though she is a mix of strength, anger, and being defeated. We have a bit of a rise in Mariah's voice as she sings the second line, and as she sings the last, she seems to fade into the chorus repeat. After the chorus, we have the Bone Thugs rap:

It'll break you down
Only if you let it
Everyday crucial situation wrackin' my mind
Tryin' to break me down
But I won't let it
Forget it
Forget it
I've been feelin' like you're breakin' me down
Kickin' me around
Stressin' me out
I think I better go and get out and let me
Release some stress (stress)
Don't ever wanna feel no pain (pain)
Hoping for the sun
But it looks like rain (rain, rain, rain)
Oh, i just wanna maintain
Yeah, when you feel the pressure's on
But nevertheless
Krayzie won't fall
It's over
It's endin' here, here

The rap reflects some amazing sentiments. First, we have the idea that 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.' Next, we have feelings of weakness, of being hit while we're down. After, we have emotions that reflect helplessness, a desire to see the positive but being unable to, a desire to just get through. Last, we have the idea that, no, this won't break us, even though we are struggling. The end of the song is where it gets good.

Among the repeat of the chorus, we have Mariah doing her most emotive work yet on the song. It has been building from the beginning. As she starts the story, relates her true emotions, questions what she's supposed to do. She cycles through various emotions to get to this point of release. Essentially, she is crying out, kind of like Dane Cook's idea of the 'I did my best!' repetition. This is the part of the song where, if I haven't cried during the rest, I start, especially if I'm singing, because I let loose. If I'm feeling pain, it is raw, out in the open. If I'm not, I experience the catharsis I often feel through crying.

I'm not going through exactly what Mariah is in this song, but it still allows for some emotions to be released. Sometimes, I do get close to wanting to breakdown. I have fallen to my knees, clutching my chest, though my pain was not physical. If I put myself there, where she is, I start feeling and things rise to the surface that I need to deal with or I need to pass.

This song's construction and meaning are extremely powerful, and they are a large part of why I love it. 'Breakdown' is surely a work of genius, of deliberate work.

Roles

This past Spring, I had the opportunity to visit H&M while in Ohio for a friend's wedding. H&M is my favorite store in the world and I was overjoyed to be able to shop there. I left with a few things, including a very short pair of swim trunks (like, at least 8 inches above the knee short). I love these swim trunks: you don't often see them on men, they show off my legs, they have a nice cut, etc. However, what is the perception of me if I decide to wear them in public?

Gender roles and expectations permeate many facets of our society, including clothes. Especially from within the often hypermasculine world of the Black man, there are certain things to wear and not to wear. Don't wear tight jeans or shirts, don't wear short shorts. Basically, don't wear anything remotely feminine. But why? High heels and skirts on a man don't hurt anyone, but they are enough to provoke people to violence. Violence is part of the reason I get a pang of anxiety even thinking about wearing these trunks in public. What if someone decides to attack me? What if someone perceives my sexual orientation and decides to hurt me because they disagree with either my presentation or some fundamental facet of myself? Yeah, what if. To even have to ask myself these questions, I have to live in a shitty world where my clothes are enough to provoke violence. I have to change myself, rather than the world around me changing, in order to be safe.

Such arguments fall under the 'Blame the Victim' mentality, that, somehow, some quality of a victim is what elicited violence. We hear this argument a lot: Well, if that woman had been wearing more clothes (showing less skin) she wouldn't have been raped. The more logical response should be, 'The fuck is wrong with him?'. I shouldn't be scared to wear short shorts, or even a dress if I damn well pleased, but I am. I'm working on that.

Yeah, I'm going to keep getting weird looks, but that doesn't mean I feel less at home in these shorts. I like them far better than many of the trunks offered to men (too long, less flattering). Why adhere to a social pressure to 'look' like a man at all times? I should care about my safety, but, really, who is going to attack me for wearing short swimtrunks?

Crazy?

I am currently helping a professor in the Psychology department gather research connecting integrated threat theory with mental illness. To get you up to speed, here is a quick lesson:

Integrated Threat Theory - the idea that different modes of perceived threat combine to create prejudice. Those modes are realistic threat (the fear of harm being done to one's body or possessions), symbolic threat (the idea that another group poses harm to beliefs or a way of life), inter-group anxiety (fears and ideas about another group based on an ingroup perspective), and negative stereotypes (longstanding negative beliefs about a group of people).

Through the scope of integrated threat theory, the professor wants to investigate attitudes toward people with mental illness(es). While I don't always approach things from a mental health perspective (in the sense of normative functioning, investigating disorders, etc), this is still right up my alley. It is all of the things I talk about, just from a different perspective. I'm already finding some interesting information.

For one, people desire social distance from those with mental illness. Another thing is that people feel sympathy and/or pity for those with mental illness. Some people view people with mental illness as dangerous and unpredictable. Others say they need help. An interesting bond to tie all of these assumptions is that people often do not know how to recognize mental illness, people often incorrectly recognize mental illness (schizophrenia =/= dissociative identity disorder, but it is readily painted that way in the media and common language; being bipolar is not simply switching from one mood to the next in the matter of moments), and, in general, there is misinformation about and misuse of the terms related to mental illness.

Why? People with mental illness are just like the rest of us. Some mental illnesses are dangerous, but even so, should we just write these people off as dangerous, as crazy? Should we throw around words like crazy and nuts (which I admit I do) as though they are nothing? And, very importantly, when we refer to someone as crazy, does that mean we need to separate ourselves from them as though they pose a real threat to us?

As with many things I talk about on this blog, this is not a black and white issue. As I said, some people with mental illness are a danger to themselves or others. However, people without mental illness can be a danger to themselves or others. It's time we took down the stigma surrounding mental illness and educated ourselves. It's time we learned how they are caused, what they look like, that mental illness does not mean people are going to chase us with knives, that having a mental illness (to even be diagnosed with one) someone has to be undergoing a tremendous amount of distress or pain, which is only compounded by the existing stigmas surrounding mental illness.

Maybe it's time to watch our language and treat people with respect. We don't have to keep pretending people with mental illnesses don't deserve respect or help, and we don't need to be patronizing. By changing ourselves, we can change the way people seek help, if they even do at all.

Also, insane is a legal term which does not suddenly absolve criminals of charges, and stop using the word retarded as a placemarker for stupid.

Invisibility

In high school, I was the kind of invisible that helped me navigate my social environment. My name wasn't constantly being spoken. Outside of my own circles, very few people knew me. I was no blip on the radar. While it meant spending weekends with few or no people (or wasting away at work...), it was nice not to be involved in any drama. I was the kind of invisible that helped me coast.

But now, in a time where I've developed much more of a racial identity, I'm dealing with a new kind of invisibility. Since I was 15, I've had plenty of time to develop a gay identity. Besides resistance from my parents and a change in faith, things more or less went on course. I have no problems assuming a gay identity. A Black identity, however, is something that has seemed beyond my grasp for so long. I had to get over the recognition of my difference (talking 'White', being called Oreo, saying 'I'm not really Black', and my unfortunate buying into each of these scenarios) but also a growing bitterness toward my own community (So I don't sag or listen to rap that often, why don't I belong?). Hanging around White people for my developmental years was also a big part in not assuming a Black identity besides checking that box on various forms of paperwork.

Yet, I've made leaps and bounds. I started to question the biases I've had toward Black people. I've started recognizing that though some conform to stereotypes, just as I do with a gay identity, it doesn't mean they are lesser people, it's just how some people express themselves and that expression just so happens to be congruent with established stereotypes. I've started to work past the issues regarding my Blackness, the Blackness of others, and what it means to be Black (still not sure, but I refuse to let anyone else dictate for me what my own Blackness means and how it should be showcased). What I have also encountered is the aforementioned invisibility that comes from the intersection of being gay and a person of color.

What I found is that I was immersed in and helped perpetuate a system that downgraded the value of LGBT PoC. I never felt like I belonged with people of my own color, so I hung around the White kids. In the LGBT community, I've found that, often, if you aren't White, you find yourself in an invisible struggle for a 'ticket', for a place at the table. I was in between worlds. It didn't help that I didn't push past my own biases until very recently, so I looked at and treated other Black gay men differently. I was caught, and still find myself, in a struggle to assert my visibility while furthering that bullshit system.

This struggle isn't easy to explain. In the LGBT community, race is a topic easily and apparently best dismissed. I've covered this before: that entire argument hinges on the assumption that what is not seen does not exist. However, even though I haven't been victim to overt homophobia and racism, I cannot deny the existence of a system that sees me as a lesser man for being gay, a lesser man for being Black, and invisible for being Black and gay. I also cannot deny my place within this system, as an agent of that same casting of invisibility of my Black homosexual, bisexual and trans brothers and sisters.

Shaking off my own invisibility can no longer involve getting those pretty White boys to date me (I've already dated pretty White boys who didn't have their heads up their asses and who were willing and able to engage in discussions of race). It can involve being honest about how I've felt, whether those feelings were justified or not. It can involve looking privilege in the eye and having the audacity to say something. It can involve seeing my Black, Latino(a), Asian, Native American, etc etc LGBT people as beautiful, just as I have come to see my own skin as beautiful.

I may still continue to date White men. I may still be an agent in a rather horrid system. Yet, at the end of my life, I want to look back to moments after this one, and know that I stood up and asserted my existence and refused to participate in systems that treat others as 'less than.' I'm not invisible. I'm not a less than. I simply am.

Love, Me

I've covered much of this last summer, but, like many life lessons, it needs to be brought to the surface again.

Z and I have parted ways, this time for good. The sense of finality attached to this break-up is both sad but liberating. No more struggle to make things work; no more wondering if this is how things should be. We aren't together for good reasons, but damn if it doesn't hurt.

For at least a while, and potentially indefinitely, the man I've shared my life with for the past two years is someone who feels light years away. Not talking to him hurts because I relied on him so much to get by. It is a scary thought, to rely on anyone like that, or sometimes at all, but I didn't mind because he was there and (to my knowledge) he was okay with it. And, had he chosen to do so as much as I did, I would have listened to him, too. I feel like we supported each other, and I hope he felt as uplifted by me as I did by him.

So, for all that to be gone, I've experienced a bit of an emotional shock. I have to learn to get by *alone* this time. No one to say good morning/night to every day; no one to really talk to about my less than stellar test grade today. It's all gone.

In the meantime, I've tried to create a new Allen, one that can handle this stress, one that feels sexy, one that is confident. I'm looking for a new identity to keep me occupied for a while. However, there's a slight snag in the 'new identity' plan: the motives may not be pure. I think I want a new identity because I am, in varying ways, in pain. Pain from loss, from emptiness, and from loneliness. Pain from not really knowing what my identity is anymore.

I wonder if I got to a point where I did lose myself in my relationship. Where was I? The 'Allen' that I was for the past two years does not feel like the 'Allen' I am now, and it's only been two weeks since the break up. I'm endeavoring to re-find out who I am. Again. I'd love to know before I find another love so I can always keep myself around.

I want to rediscover things about myself. I want to paint again. I want to get back in touch with my own private and sensual sexuality. I don't want to feel disconnected. Z never did any of those things to me, nor did he force me to change or 'lose' myself. It was something I did, on my own. Somewhere along the way, I got lost.

Now, then, I'm finding out who I am. I am trying to live organically. I am making new manifestos and preparing myself for whatever the hell is ahead. I'm finding the strength to handle my day-to-day and keep myself on track.

To wrap things up, here's a little bit of introspection I did the other day:

Maybe the reason you want so hard to change things or make a new identity for yourself is because you're not sure you have one anymore. Losing a relationship meant losing a bit of yourself. You're struggling to pick up whatever pieces you can. You're lost.

Yet, you don't need the glasses. You don't need to have a bunch of sex. You need to discover you and become friends with him again. Become whole. You can do this.

Love, Me.

An Evolution

I read through some of the earlier entries on the blog and I am feeling many ways.

I'm part upset with myself for some of the things I said, particularly the things about people always calling or looking for racism and the like, which is basically the exact opposite of how I feel now. Now, I feel like various forms of discrimination should be hunted down and corrected, of course in conjunction to using critical thinking and deductive reasoning.

I'm also surprised at how I talked about God. In one post, dated almost a year ago, I said I believed. Now? If I were to be honest with you, that wouldn't be my answer.

The change, even within the past year, is so surprising. I'm scared to show people, scared that they'll think I'm a hypocrite. However, there is something else to be learned. While I could benefit from a consistency of thought and belief, that's not how things work out for me. I, apparently, am constantly changing and evolving. I appreciate where I am now because I feel it is a much better place and I have a better grasp on who I am.

I'm not sure exactly where this places me, nor am I sure that the blog will look the same a year from now, but it was still interesting to see the development.

Going to the Ladies' Room

If I walked into a women's public restroom, I'd get stares and there'd be a possibility of screams and me being arrested. But why?

I'm not sure when, but at some point, the idea of gender separate bathrooms stopped making sense. We poop and pee; those things are pretty universal. Women change tampons and pads in bathrooms. That covers all the physiological stuff. Women are said to gossip and put on make up, while men are as stoic as ever. Yet, I'm not sure all these reasons justify separate bathrooms.

There is most definitely the issue of age and safety. Some people do not feel safe sending their children into restrooms with people of the opposite sex. However, what I've found is that sometimes that doesn't even matter. I heard about a young girl in my hometown getting raped in the bathroom of a Mexican restaurant. I highly doubt that the restrooms were unisex, as that isn't a very common thing here. Does that mean the man dragged her to the men's room? Did he follow her into the ladies' room? Was I misinformed and was there no bathroom at all? While safety is an issue, I'm not sure it does us any good to separate genders for fear that someone will be raped, when the chances are still likely.

You can argue that, with protection of others in the bathroom, it is much less likely to happen. But what about the bystander effect, where people will stand by while something bad happens to someone? What if you go in a public restroom alone? There are many times I walk into the restroom at my university and I'm by myself. Hell, I've sat on the toilet for minutes without someone coming in. That would be a prime time for attack, regardless of gender separation in bathrooms or not.

Another issue of safety is that we often view sexual abuse in male-aggressor and female-victim dyads, forgetting it can work in the other way. Under this assumption, both little boys and girls are vulnerable. There is some mediation as far as parents going in the bathroom, but I'm not sure any circumstance is 100% preventable. Yet, we cannot assume that men or women will become raping machines in unisex bathrooms, nor can we pretend that their hormones will overpower them and they'll be having sex all over the place (which can still happen in gender separated bathrooms).

The best case scenario arises in private restrooms. There's no reason for single stall bathrooms to be separated. Often, the difference is condom machines in men's restrooms (or maybe women's too, not sure, I don't go in there), little boxes for tampons and pads, and diaper changing stations (which can be found in some men's restrooms, too, not just women's). In private restrooms, we might as well have two separate unisex bathrooms rather than two gender separated bathrooms.

Also, it is most important to talk about accessibility. Transgender people face discrimination in that, if they look a certain way, regardless of how they feel or, in undergoing sex reassignment, what stage they're in, people can still question it and deride them for choosing one bathroom or another. Unisex bathrooms help alleviate some of this pressure. While they may still be judged, they will have a space to use the restroom that is not dictated by a particular gender's space. Thus, unisex bathrooms have a social value as well.

Some people in countries with unisex restrooms say there is no issue. I believe that, had someone in the world's past not advocated for strict separation of genders, I wouldn't even be making this blog post. We'd accept it as another thing that's part of our society. Then, I may still be asking, as I am today, in essence, 'Why are things the way they are?'

An undercurrent to this post is 'who gets to pick the status quo? when do we decide that it is a good status quo?' I'm not really sure. This has just been something on my mind.

Colorblind

I'm not sure if I've covered this topic before, but it's worth covering again.

I read a story once about a feminist conference. There was a White man, a Black woman, and a White woman. If I remember correctly, the Black woman asked the White woman, 'When you wake in the morning, what do you see?' to which the White woman responded, 'A woman.' The Black woman followed with, 'I don't. I wake up and see a *Black* woman.' The Black woman didn't and many women of color *don't* have the privilege of just waking up and seeing just a woman. Their color is forever tied to their identity. It is as such for many people. I wake up and see a gay Black man. For many, their various identities all surface in a mirror.

There are those who support colorblind policies and approaches to social problems. 'We are all the same; we are all equal; I do not see color or sexual orientation, I see a human being.' Problem is, even though we are all human beings, we all have identities. What being colorblind does is erase those identities in the attempt to unify us as a collective. On the surface, this looks awesome. However, especially as it stands right now, colorblind approaches only serve to erase and negate the trouble history people associate with their identities, the history attached to various identities, and the barriers people without privilege face.

Now, we all operate under *some* privilege. I don't really believe that there are people with zero privilege, as it is a very contextual thing. But, if we were suddenly to switch to a colorblind style of life, the privileges that were set before the colorblindness will stay set. Problems will not be solved. It will effectively usher in a new era that says, 'Whatever happened in the past is in the past,' forgetting that some people have scars dealing with the past. For example, White people are considered to hold most of America's wealth. In a colorblind world, this would stay the same, leaving others at a disadvantage, unless the wealth was redistributed, which I'm not sure would indicate a truly colorblind world if we acknowledge that there is a gap in wealth among different demographics.

I call myself an idealist, yet I cannot go along with this colorblind approach. We have to fix problems before we are able to call everyone equal, because everyone, most assuredly, is not equal based on how things were and how things are going.

Too Much

There is an article circulating on Twitter about how, and I shit you not, 'Black women are less attractive than women of other races and Black men are more attractive.'

The real title: Why Are Black Women Rated Less Physically Attractive Than Other Women, But Black Men Are Rated Better Looking Than Other Men?

And don’t worry, that’s just a silly edit. The original title didn’t have the qualifier of ‘rated.’ So, if you have to edit a title to make it more acceptable, should you have posted it in the first place? That is not today’s message or inquiry, but it’s one that stands.

A lot of the Black women I follow were outraged, and justifiably so. They were just told by someone’s ‘research’ that they are not as attractive as other races. Really? To add insult to injury, Psychology Today is responsible for publishing the article (I sincerely hope it does not make it to print). This is not a singular thing. Kanazawa makes a lot of claims that are considered ‘research.’

Then I go on to read an article about the horrors of ‘Power Bottoming’ by a man who obviously knows a lot about gay sex. Now, don’t get me wrong, the more straight men know about gay sex, the better, because then I won’t get asked dumb ass questions. However, it *always* looks a bit suspect when someone decries something as abhorrent from a Christian perspective then gives you a detailed and bulleted list about it.

Both of these articles, and some of the responses that came out of them, are deplorable. Usually I can fight such things with an angry passion, but today, I was just sad. I was sad that some Black people made racist comments about Asian people as a result, that some Black men told the angry Black women that they should just ignore it or move on or that it reflects their self-esteem, that my sexual orientation was seen as evil and that I was told that I prefer to submit to people as a bottom and a Black gay man (yeah, go find out if that’s true or not).

I’m tired of this bullshit. I’m tired of feeling alone in wanting things to change. I’m tired of people not crossing lines to take up arms against things like this (Where are my White brothers and sisters blasting the article about Black women? Where are my Black brothers and sisters whenever my sexual orientation is called evil?). We are incredibly insular when it comes to social change, and I’m fighting within myself to not be so.

I don’t want my sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, nor any strangers, to believe that they are ‘ugly’ or ‘less attractive’ simply by virtue of their race. I don’t want anyone to grow up with the message that sex is dirty and so are gay men. I’m tired of men being able to shirk responsibility because they are men, but at the same time be called sexual beings who can only think with their dicks.

Do you not see what is wrong about all this? Stop focusing on your singular existence. That is a message to you and to me.

The (Perceived) Homogeneity of Nerd Culture

I love Socially Awkward Penguin. Upon refreshing the meme for myself, I noticed something: the ones that have any sort of gender reference are typically male and heterosexual. Interesting.

It made me think, 'This isn't the only place that happens.' We see it all the time: Big Bang Theory features 4 intelligent and nerdy men who love nerdy things. All the women... Well, they don't. Even cute little Amy Farrah Fowler, immensely intelligent but not current mention of a love of nerd culture thus yet.

I'm going to harp on this forever, because it, will probably be an issue as long as I live. I am constantly questioning the way things are, typically in favor of women, Black people, and the LGBT community. Admittedly, I need to expand my scope, because there are plenty of people who do not have representation in common (older people, various racial minorities, the physically disabled, etc). Yet, nerd culture is still typically seen as something that 'belongs' to the nerdy White, straight male.

People wonder why Gaymer or Nerd Girl culture exists, typically straight males. Well, from my perspective, and I know I've said this before, it's because there is typically not a space made for anyone but White, straight males in nerd culture. It gets to the point where you keep talking about it and people don't listen, or you get fed up and deal, as if this helps change the status quo.

I have friends that do make this space for me as a gay Black man. I can name plenty of White, straight nerdy men who are more than accommodating, and I love them for it. These men are what I wish everyone, including myself, was like because they are so inclusive. However, not everyone is like this. Not everyone is okay with making a character in a movie Black because it's not how things are in comics, and not out of hate, but they don't realize the effect that white/straight/able/youngwashing in movies does to those who are not in the majority. They're lost in their own sense of nostalgia and fear of change, and they're the ones who get marketed to in general and non-token ways (aka Black characters don't have to have the word Black in their name).

Currently, I am at a loss of how to handle it. I don't always take the opportunity to educate people, or let them know that their issues with Heimdall being Black because he's White in the comics is alienating. I need to learn to step up.

My bottom line is: Nerd culture is NOT just White, straight men, but too many people treat it as such, leaving those on the outside alienated, left to deal with a status quo that does not always acknowledge them or can effectively render them invisible.

Meet Cute

So, I said I'd blog about how Z and I met :)

Well, first, we lived in the same dorm. He was a Freshman and I was a Junior. Some of the earlier details are random, like me adding him on Facebook, holding the door open for him on his birthday after we had both just come from the club (separately) and studying in the dorm lobby while he was hanging out with his friends. After a while, any thought of a relationship was out the window because I thought we were too different (I won't use the adjectives he uses whenever we go over this period in time).

It really started with yoga. I was dealing with a rather stressful relationship, so I went to yoga every week to help relieve the stress. Z was also there every week, and that's when I really started to notice how cute he was, and that he was a different person than what I had first thought. Eventually, me and my boyfriend at the time broke up, and Z and I started to talk via Facebook more often.

At the same time, a mysterious person started sending me Honesty Box messages. I clung to them because I love attention and I was lonely. Anywho, my first guess was actually Z, but he kept denying it (mm hmm). A bit more of the semester goes by and eventually we get together to watch a movie. The kicker is that I was a PA for his group of Honors freshman, although he wasn't in my particular small group, so we couldn't date. All we could do was hang out.

Thus, we hung out until the semester was officially over, and, two years ago today, we became an official couple :)

Death and Rejoice

When Fred Phelps dies, I'm not going to lie to you and say I won't be happy. I'm not going to cover it up with a euphemism and say I'm relieved. I will be glad that one of the most hate-mongering voices of our time is gone. I wasn't sad when Jerry Falwell passed either.

With Osama Bin Laden's death, many people are rejoicing. Some do so gladly. Others are not so quick to celebrate the end of someone else's life. Personally, I'm not sad. The only reason I'm not happy is because of the implications that could arise from his death (including more terrorist attacks, xenophobia on the homefront, or the sudden surge of patriotism that always seems to indicate so many good things). Yet, because I believe in autonomy, I cannot solely blame one man for spreading an ideal, just like Obama doesn't deserve all the credit in this scenario as he was not the one who singlehandedly found Bin Laden and executed him (unless you know something I don't).

If someone raped or killed my mother, do you think I'd be sad they died? No. I'd call it justice. Yet, that person's family may not call it justice. They may mourn just as I did. I think where this leaves us is a gray area. There is no black and white. We do value some lives over others, as we'd be quicker to save one who shares our genetics or family rather than a complete stranger if given the choice (which can backed up by evolutionary theory, too, the idea that we preserve those who share our genetic makeup for even family members can pass on our genes).

I'm not going to call someone hateful for rejoicing the death of Bin Laden, but nor am I going to completely turn a blind eye. Like I said, we value some lives more than others, based on context and the action of the people who hold those lives. This is one of those situations where I can more easily adopt Eastern philosophy and be okay with holding contradictory views. I can value life, but also believe that justice (and not one served on behalf of a God) can be served in the taking of one's life.

There are many questions left to be answered, yet that I think do not have answers. I think we should take the time to think about where we are and what we feel, but also be brave enough to defend how we feel (without resorting to trolling).

Self-Hatred

Landslide has done it to me again.

Somewhere along the line, I got the message that I'm not supposed to like myself. I am not the default. I'm Black, so I'm not as smart. I'm gay, so I can't get married and I can't be a real man. I don't have a religion, so I'm going to Hell. None of my friends and family ever told me any of this (besides the messages, implicit and explicit, about being gay).

I've had self-esteem issues for a long time, it's just I've learned to hide them well. I had to teach myself what self-love is and what it feels like, no one could do that for me. All my life I've been 'different' from other people, and at some point it really got to me. I honestly felt I couldn't be loved as a gay man because I'm Black, that I couldn't be accepted by anyone because I'm Black and gay. There are days where I don't wake up loving myself. Why do you think I care so much about my appearance?

Because if someone loves the outside, maybe, just maybe, they'll love the inside.

We live in a country and a world where we have to teach ourselves to love ourselves. Self-acceptance is an elusive goal. We are constantly being told that if something was different, we'll be more accepted. If I could just wear better clothes, if I could be smarter, if I could be White, if I could be straight, if I could be Christian: if I could, then someone would love me. Right?

I don't know how many of you grew up with these messages, or if you did at all. But I did, and it's taken a lot of work to get around them, but to also make sure that I didn't do the same to anyone else. When I was 12, I made fun of a girl for having big lips (which is all sorts of ironic). Then a bunch of boys one day came up to me to tell me I'm gay, eventually passing around a petition, signing their names, as another declaration of the fact. I've been on the receiving and giving ends.

I'm writing from an emotional state, so I feel a bit all over the place, but my point stands. At one point or another, I've hated myself. That's no way to live, and sometimes this is no world to live in.

Implicit

I'm going to get into some trouble for this one, but that is neither here nor there.

I believe that racism, sexism, homophobia, ableism, ageism, and all those various isms exist. I mean, I'm Black and gay; to not believe in such things gives real credence to the idea that 'ignorance is bliss.' However, all of these forms of discrimination have taken on another form. One that is not easy to discover, see, or understand. One that is constantly defended as a natural part of our status quo. These are all implicit, institutionalized, quiet, and sometimes 'innocent.'

Racism today does not look like racism of 50 years ago. Homophobia has seeped into our language in seemingly benign ways. Now you have to dig for them. However, trouble arises in that, when you dig, sometimes you think you've found something significant when it isn't, or other times people don't accept your message.

'This is the way things are,' or 'It was all innocent,' or the very common, 'It was a joke. Lighten up!' I see this especially among video game players and comic fans. Many people turn a blind eye to the extreme lack of representation of various minority groups and women, or benignly accept how these people are portrayed. And let someone raise awareness to this fact; if you do so, you have a veritable shitstorm on your hands for 'Making race an issue' or 'Looking for things that aren't there.'

Some of this is based on perception. Sometimes, if you don't see it, you just don't. However, that's why the implicit nature of these forms of discrimination is dangerous. If you don't question, you don't find anything. When you do question, you find more than what is there. But it is these same forms of implicit discrimination that is at the root of the belief that Black men are lazy, women aren't as strong as men, and the idea that comics and video games are for boys. We accept these as our daily life, not bothering to wonder if things could be better. Nor do we question how we help sustain such deplorable systems.

I have a feeling people are always going to tell me I'm looking for things that aren't there. I don't care. I'd rather be wrong some of the time than to lower my awareness when it comes to forces within our society that do us no justice (and often affect the justice system) and that support the idea that, based on different characteristics, some people are lesser or some things are only for some people.

ABCs of Gaming!

Here we go! A change from the usual social awareness stuff :)

A – Angry Birds

B – Bayonetta

C – Chrono Trigger

D – DDRMax2

E – Elite Beat Agents

F – Final Fantasy XIII

G – Gardening Mama

H – Hercules

I – Inu Yasha: The Secret of the Cursed Mask

J – Just Dance 2

K – Kingdom Hearts

L – Legend of Mana

M – Marvel Ultimate Alliance

N – Ninja Gaiden

O – Oddworld: Abe’s Odyssey

P – Pokemon

Q - Qbert

R – Robopon

S – Super Scribblenauts

T – Tatsunoko vs Capcom

U – Unlimited Saga

V – Virtua Fighter

W – The World Ends with You

X – X-men: Mutant Academy

Y – YuGiOh! World Championship 2004

Z – Zombies Ate My Neighbors!

Nothing

I call myself nothing because religion nor atheism, often considered the two opposing poles in belief systems, can answer questions. Yet, I am scared to call myself 'Nothing' because people will force labels on me. They'll tell me I really believe in God, or that I'm not a real atheist, though this is the closest to what I am by choice.

I am nothing because I don't know how hate can exist and people can justify it with God and say that it is plan, though I respect and admire those whose faith remains strong in God, Allah, or whomever despite such pain, strife, and struggling among those who share our genus and species.

I am nothing because I choose to be nothing. I am quieter with no voices talking, with no searching but that which takes place in the journey I am willfully embarking on to improve my life and, by extension, improve the lives of others.

I am Nothing. Forever, I will tell you I am Nothing.

Nothing provides answers, and, even within its amorphous cloud, provides solace.

Landslide

Writing this as I fulfill my Research Assistant duties. I can't get it off my mind.

Last night's Glee featured Santana 'coming out' (I use quotes because Santana doesn't want to be labelled) to Brittany and expressing her love for her. She bared her soul and talked about her fear of what people would think about her if she and Brittany were together. How could that not hit home?

They sang the song 'Landslide' together, and whether you are a child of the Fleetwood Mac or Dixie Chicks version, it's still a beautiful song. For a long time, it's meant a lot to me, but I never knew why. So, maybe I'll give it meaning.

For one, it speaks to me because it talks about change. Sometimes I am okay with change. I, like John Mayer, and readily 'Waiting on the World to Change.' I want things to be better for me. I want to legally marry Z wherever the hell we are one day and have the same legal benefits. I also want the world to be better for others. I don't want my little sisters to fall into the gender socialization of girls and women because I hate it; I want them to be stronger, and I want to create a world that more readily and willingly enables girls and women to be strong. I want my transgender brothers and sisters (forgive me if concrete gender terms are not appropriate here) to have the same benefits as me, for it is a shame how we treat them. There are a lot of things I want.

However, this song carries another great importance: I was listening to it around the time I was dealing with my own sexual orientation. Living in the South with religious parents doesn't make an easy time for trying to deal with and accept your sexuality. I didn't know who to talk to or where to go. In some ways, I am still dealing with accepting my sexual orientation today. I feel like I cast the image that I'm comfortable with it and that I'm confident in it. Sometimes I am. But other times I'm still scared to talk about it with people I don't know, because I'm scared they may judge me. I've been scared of going to hell, and I've been scared of losing my parents, my friends and my family.

I have been scared of changing because I've built my life around different things. My family, my friends, and God at one point. For me, being gay brought a fear of what would happen to me. What would I lose?

This song has always brought out some pretty strong emotions for me, and I'm not always sure why. The aforementioned things could be it, or it could be something nameless and ambiguous, but still powerful. The thoughts and feelings above just happen to relate.

I think, maybe, a Landslide has already happened. I'm not sure if I've re-invented myself, grown, or both. I can say that I'm in a much better place, and I want to try to create a space that is even better in the future. Change is sometimes a very scary thing for me, and the anxiety that comes from changing is something worth conquering rather than trying to escape.

Pretty _____ Rock

Do the Pretty ____ Rock. Now what's yo name?

On the surface, this song is a manifesto for all the Pretty Girls everywhere. Stand up! Be heard! I'm pretty! This premise I have trouble with. It places much weight and importance on being Pretty, which is not something everyone has but it's something that we are told to aspire to, more directly to girls but more covertly to boys (which I think is an especially insidious form of broadcasting a message for many reasons). However, I think there's something more to be said.

If looked at another way, this song is saying Stand up! Be heard! I am _____ and I am fucking proud. Where once I'd ask you not to take it away, now I'm telling you you won't take it away. In the immortal words of Ephie White: And I am telling you I'm not going.

Everyone deserves a manifesto like this. Kanye gets one for assholes and douchebags. Keri gets one for Pretty Girls. Where's my anthem for being Black? For aspiring to be a good man? For being a Gay man? I know some of these songs are out there, and if you know any, PLEASE send them my way. In the meantime, use the blank I have provided for you. Insert whoever you are and however many 'who's there are (I may post on this idea, aka multiple social identity).

I think it'd be cool to stand there, together, wherever 'there' is, united and strong. White. Black. Gay. Transgender. Bisexual. Hispanic. Asian. French. Arabic. Jewish. Disabled. Young. Old. Man. Woman. Adult. Child. Whoever.

Why don't we capitalize on the opportunity to find ourselves beautiful, or, for the purposes of this post, Pretty? We don't all have the chance. I wish we did. Everyone deserves to feel like a Pretty ______, provided there are exclusions. I'm working from idealism here, and I know that, but I stand by it.

Beautiful

This was a comment on Yahoo Answers in response to a question asking whether or not atheists are grateful for their lives. The original question is rather patronizing, misinformed and presumptuous in all of the wrong ways. It is reproduced here.

"Grateful" is a synonym for "thankful". Are atheists ever thankful they were born human? That they were born intelligent? (because let's face it...atheists ARE intelligent...albeit misguided) That they were born TALENTED?

Are they THANKFUL? And if they ever feel that thankfulness, who exactly is it they're thanking? Because being thankful means you WANT TO THANK somebody...the same "somebody" whom you so cavalierly describe as "an invisible sky friend".

Are you ever thankful...EVER...when an IMPOSSIBLE situation for you suddenly, and for no apparent reason, turns out okay, even if you "don't believe" in this "invisible sky friend"?

However, this particular response is beautiful. Why can't more people see the world this way?

I feel and notice that theists and atheists have basically all the same experiences in life. Theists assume they have a very different life because of their theism. Atheists assume they have a very different life because of their atheism. Each side assumes they are living a far superior live. But here's the truth: no matter which way you go--theist or atheist--you remain human, all human, and nothing but human. You live a human life, with all the possible joys and miseries that go with that. No human can escape being human. Theists and atheists are not really different, no matter the fact that both sides are generally very sure that they are very different. But that is just all vanity, illusions, smoke and dust.

Power Sets

So, in a discussion with @GameTavernNews on Twitter, I told him my possible power sets for a hero (undoubtedly based on myself :D). Here they are!

1) Flight, telepathy, empathy and energy blasts

These powers might better be explained as the synthesis of two parents' powers. The father is able to manipulate energy and the mother has high level psychic abilities (telepathy). He inherited both powers from his parents and flies using energy manipulation (pushing the energy under him a la Dragonball Z [see: Gohan teaching Videl how to fly]). His brother inherited powers more from the father, but that manifest as teleportation (he can transform things into energy and he is able to "manipulate" the location of the resultant energy).

2) Flight, hard light construction/manipulation

The flight works here by using light energy. The hard light comes from taking this energy and making it visible and tangible. The user is able to create only one shape (an eight pointed star) but eventually learns to make other shapes. He can also manipulate the forms to create shields around objects and people. These hard light forms also take on offensive capabilities in that they can be willed to explode on contact or by delayed reaction (expansion of the light energy)

3) Visible psychic energy

I imagine the color to be blue, more than likely for a hero named Blue. These visible psychic powers manifest as telekinesis and telepathy. Energy surrounds objects, much like Lantern Corps energy to move them. Telepathy works by energy connecting to another organism's brain to enable communication or allow the user to control the organism. He is able to use this visible energy to make forcefields and is also able to propel bolts of energy as an offensive technique.