Vodka is among the most popular of liquors and in my opinion that of least respectability. Some of my friends are enthusiasts for top shelf vodka and I have told them what I will now tell you. Vodka is for wimps.
In a world where the LA Times staff picks Smirnoff as the finest vodka in a blind tasting the concept of top shelf vodka is laughable. The very idea of building a quality scale around the lack of flavor violates some basic aesthetic principle. The ultimate indicators of flavor quality in every other commodity are those of complexity and balance, yet in vodka the only positive descriptor I've heard is "smooth". Sipping expensive vodka consequently reduces to a meditation on ethanol. It's the culinary equivalent to staring at a wall.
You may suggest that the purpose of vodka is providing a neutral base to a refined mixed drink. To a limited extent it is useful in this role. Yet, the culinary trump card of alcohol is it's capacity to solvate water-insoluble aromatic compounds. Cranberry and vodka is pretty good and there are circumstances where you may wish to balance other liquors' flavor with alcoholic spike (diluting gin for example), but ultimately vodka stands at a marked disadvantage to more complex liquors when mixing great drinks.
By and large, vodka is chosen as the alcoholic base to make a drink as inoffensive as possible. The worst of these drinks try to conceal the taste of the alcohol entirely. That is the crux of what makes something a "girl drink". This is an inadmissible sin. Alcohol is something to enjoy.
My first problem with girl drinks was that I couldn't drink more than a couple without getting a sugar rush. This is the principle reason why these drinks are associated with girls. Only those with hardly any tolerance can get drunk off of those syrupy confections without going into pulmonary arrest. In fact, reviewing individual preference one finds that, regardless of gender, those who drink the least are the most likely to go for super sweet drinks.
Those who drink more than a little usually recognize the impracticality and insulting simplicity of girl drinks. Yet, those same people are just as likely to shy from the intimidating richness of gin and whiskey and they are just as likely to be pretentious vodka snobs. So just know that vodka is undeserving of it's high culture associations. It has but a minor role in the making of great cocktails. It is popular because it is the most innocuous of liquors. It is simply a way to get fucked up while tasting as little as possible.
So embrace the fire and vitality of real liquor. Try a bracing Manhattan or Martini instead of that Lemon Drop the next time you find yourself at the bar.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Wipe Out!
Since I moved, the route to school is mostly a long straightaway on Anderson road. The result has been my riding harder and riding faster than any time since early freshman year. I've been pushing my physical limits, developing some impressive quads, and pushing my bike's limits, sometimes skidding slightly around campus traffic circles.
So this afternoon on my way home for lunch, it was to my surprise when I was passed by a bicyclist with a nice road bike. This happens maybe twice a month. I caught up to him on the next red light and I decided to draft him when it turned green. I found that I only had to pedal intermittently to keep up with him. My chain needs lube, so every time I pedaled there was an audible grinding sound. The rider turned around and told me so. I said that I knew and asked if it was alright that I was drafting him. He nodded his assent. A block later he prepared to turn onto his street. I laid into the pedals to squeak through a yellow light, feeling pretty good about myself. I was going extremely fast and still pedaling as I began to cross lanes for my upcoming left turn.
I've long been aware of the similarities between bike riding and surfing. The sensation of flying, the casualness of countersteering and the rush of a smooth, deep turn make the resemblance unmistakable.
One crucial difference is the inevitability that when you wipe out on a bike, it will hurt. Never mind submerged rocks or shallow water, the pavement is right there waiting for you. I think the knowledge that you are gliding over hard, unfriendly stone is one of the most magical things about the bicycle.
I looked to the oncoming traffic to time my turn. There was plenty of space behind the last car, so I cut across early and hard. I got greedy and pedaled through the turn for additional speed. That's when my pedal dug into the pavement and launched the Ash Maiden and I across the street.
This was the fourth wipeout of my college career and by far the most badass. Never have I wiped out at such obscene speed. I bruised my heel hard enough that I've got a limp, my chain derailed and my hip was shredded red from the landing, but otherwise it was a practically bloodless wipe.
Some might take away the lesson to ride less recklessly. Not so for yours truly. I learned to make sure to tuck in my feet on my next high speed turn.
So this afternoon on my way home for lunch, it was to my surprise when I was passed by a bicyclist with a nice road bike. This happens maybe twice a month. I caught up to him on the next red light and I decided to draft him when it turned green. I found that I only had to pedal intermittently to keep up with him. My chain needs lube, so every time I pedaled there was an audible grinding sound. The rider turned around and told me so. I said that I knew and asked if it was alright that I was drafting him. He nodded his assent. A block later he prepared to turn onto his street. I laid into the pedals to squeak through a yellow light, feeling pretty good about myself. I was going extremely fast and still pedaling as I began to cross lanes for my upcoming left turn.
I've long been aware of the similarities between bike riding and surfing. The sensation of flying, the casualness of countersteering and the rush of a smooth, deep turn make the resemblance unmistakable.
One crucial difference is the inevitability that when you wipe out on a bike, it will hurt. Never mind submerged rocks or shallow water, the pavement is right there waiting for you. I think the knowledge that you are gliding over hard, unfriendly stone is one of the most magical things about the bicycle.
I looked to the oncoming traffic to time my turn. There was plenty of space behind the last car, so I cut across early and hard. I got greedy and pedaled through the turn for additional speed. That's when my pedal dug into the pavement and launched the Ash Maiden and I across the street.
This was the fourth wipeout of my college career and by far the most badass. Never have I wiped out at such obscene speed. I bruised my heel hard enough that I've got a limp, my chain derailed and my hip was shredded red from the landing, but otherwise it was a practically bloodless wipe.
Some might take away the lesson to ride less recklessly. Not so for yours truly. I learned to make sure to tuck in my feet on my next high speed turn.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Makeup
This is part 2 of an adaptation of a letter written to Rob Rosenberger, a fellow blogger who lives in New York.
Rob is deeply opposed to makeup in general and particularly on women. His principal objection is that it recalls millenia of women's cultural subjugation. I contrasted his recent post concerning makeup with mine about face paint. I observed that I was recently elated by the power of makeup. Though makeup is frequently abused, I have no objection to its tasteful use.
I approach everything I can as an aesthetic endeavor. From a young age my artist mother taught my sister and I to approach pumpkin carving, snowflake cutting, clothing, house painting, gardening, etc., as an opportunity for self-expression. In addition, she and especially my dad instilled in me an abiding respect for tradition. Though I agree that makeup is a relic of subjugation, I differ on the weighting. In my opinion, that makeup is a product of different times serves to its credit as well as to its detriment. I love subtle points of continuity, even in the face of necessary change.
I'd like to get good at applying makeup if it was socially acceptable and if I had the time/patience. I think that while makeup manifests deep set elements of cultural male dominance, on a personal level it is consummately selfish rather than submissive. While I despise submissiveness, especially in women, I can only respect selfishness.
Unlike most people I don't see a conflict between selfishness and being a good friend or lover. Selfish friends are useful and I consider true love to redefine "self" to include those loved, just like land privatization once afforded the best care for land.
Rob is deeply opposed to makeup in general and particularly on women. His principal objection is that it recalls millenia of women's cultural subjugation. I contrasted his recent post concerning makeup with mine about face paint. I observed that I was recently elated by the power of makeup. Though makeup is frequently abused, I have no objection to its tasteful use.
I approach everything I can as an aesthetic endeavor. From a young age my artist mother taught my sister and I to approach pumpkin carving, snowflake cutting, clothing, house painting, gardening, etc., as an opportunity for self-expression. In addition, she and especially my dad instilled in me an abiding respect for tradition. Though I agree that makeup is a relic of subjugation, I differ on the weighting. In my opinion, that makeup is a product of different times serves to its credit as well as to its detriment. I love subtle points of continuity, even in the face of necessary change.
I'd like to get good at applying makeup if it was socially acceptable and if I had the time/patience. I think that while makeup manifests deep set elements of cultural male dominance, on a personal level it is consummately selfish rather than submissive. While I despise submissiveness, especially in women, I can only respect selfishness.
Unlike most people I don't see a conflict between selfishness and being a good friend or lover. Selfish friends are useful and I consider true love to redefine "self" to include those loved, just like land privatization once afforded the best care for land.
Pathological Honesty
This is part 1 of an adaptation of a letter written to Rob Rosenberger, a fellow blogger who lives in New York.
Rob's blog is driven by the principle of total honesty and, true to his word, nothing is off limits. I am intrigued by his philosophy, but I would have difficulty writing my blog in his style and I told him so.
Much of my deep self-insight resides wrapped in code or distorted by continuous processing. Around middle school I recognized the anthropological basis for lying and gained a respect for it. Thus in some ways my mind demonstrates rational self-deception laid over intensely honest underpinnings. I have also warped my original honesty to my own perverse ends. I use honesty as a weapon as well as an honor-based approach to unfettered communication.
Sometimes these things get out of hand. I can fool myself down wrong paths, cuttingly honest criticisms can continue unchecked or I sometimes encounter the "righteous" reasons for lying when I broach something that hurts all concerned. I think my ability to lie fluidly and rationally, morally or otherwise, may have been stunted by the extreme honesty of my childhood. I am gradually learning to tell stories and gloss over details to smooth flow, but there will always remain a component of me that remains pathologically honest.
Rob's blog is driven by the principle of total honesty and, true to his word, nothing is off limits. I am intrigued by his philosophy, but I would have difficulty writing my blog in his style and I told him so.
Much of my deep self-insight resides wrapped in code or distorted by continuous processing. Around middle school I recognized the anthropological basis for lying and gained a respect for it. Thus in some ways my mind demonstrates rational self-deception laid over intensely honest underpinnings. I have also warped my original honesty to my own perverse ends. I use honesty as a weapon as well as an honor-based approach to unfettered communication.
Sometimes these things get out of hand. I can fool myself down wrong paths, cuttingly honest criticisms can continue unchecked or I sometimes encounter the "righteous" reasons for lying when I broach something that hurts all concerned. I think my ability to lie fluidly and rationally, morally or otherwise, may have been stunted by the extreme honesty of my childhood. I am gradually learning to tell stories and gloss over details to smooth flow, but there will always remain a component of me that remains pathologically honest.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
The Cast of Characters for a Thousand Eyes
In honor of The Dilettante recently passing five hundred unique hits, I decided to give a brief background to those individuals mentioned in my blog. The following are my six best friends:
Bri
My sister is two and a quarter years younger than me, three in school. She presently attends UC Santa Cruz. She is adored by everyone she meets. Not so haunted by internal demons, she is less overtly smart than me, yet she is my intellectual equal. Though we hardly look alike, we think in similar but complimentary ways. Where I was my father's student, she was mine.
During our childhood she was my worst enemy. In those years she defined "annoying". With our parents' divorce, we became the only people we lived with continuously. As age mellowed her out, we became as close as brother and sister can be. I love her more than anything or anyone.
Matt
I met Matt in preschool and soon we were best friends. In grade school our mothers had a falling out and we drifted away. We shared a common group of friends until I cut ties my junior year of high school. Just as I made my own way, however, our friendship rekindled. By senior year he was one of my three best friends and we again shared most of our friends.
Matt is careful, steady and in possession of excellent taste. He has been going out with Parisa since high school and will soon graduate UC Santa Barbara with a Bachelors in Mechanical Engineering.
Allison
Allison and I first met in preschool at age three. Though we continued to different schools, her's became our closest family friends. Those years I played with her brothers and she with my sister.
My Junior year I developed a huge crush on her. We became close through AIM conversations and dated briefly. After she rebuffed me, we returned to our lives at our respective schools. The summer before college we discovered that we were the only friends we had going to Davis. I was simultaneously overjoyed and horrified because I knew my crush was liable to kill me. True to expectations, I was haunted through much of college by my feelings for her. Things have been much simplified since I got over it.
Allison is an animal lover and a creative writer of savage wit. More than any of my friends she has endeavored to keep my ego in check. When we went to college she reinvented herself as the outgoing, friendly "Allie", but I will always see her for her thoughtful, bookworm self.
Marisa
In possession of a million best friends, a brilliant mind and a sterling work ethic, Marisa is the friend I most respect. Hardly wasting a spare minute of life and sleeping some fraction of that required by mere mortals, she is the most intense person I have ever met.
She befriended me my Junior year of high school and I have never enjoyed competing with someone more. We frequently discussed politics and she remains in my mind the epitome of the intelligent, articulate conservative. We became especially close after my friend Caius broke up with her. She approaches her Mormon faith with as much intensity as everything else in her life. She is presently on Mission in the Czech Republic.
Caius
Acquainted first at high school's outset, Caius and I weren't friends until our Senior year. Sophmore year he actually told me, "Go away. I don't like you." That crystallized why the year was my lifetime nadir. The next year, he epitomized the incredible turnaround in public opinion of me and we became close friends within weeks of Senior year's start.
Our friendship was founded on mutual fascination. He moved to California from Romania in middle school, but that cannot hope to explain the depth of his eccentricity. Caius is among the most mathematically gifted individuals I have ever met. He is an idealist with his head in the clouds, fascinated with nature, eastern philosophy and nineteenth century poetry. He found a natural affinity with the sometimes patently crazy residents of Berkeley's coops as well as apparently every hobo he has ever met.
Caius's European charm is such that he is quite the ladies man and he approaches his relationships and aspirations with remarkable passion. However, his passion is mitigated by his flakiness. He dropped out of school at Berkeley for a year, but has since returned to his studies.
Brandon
A consummate nerd and politico, Brandon passed out business cards with his name and facebook URL our first day in the dorms. At first, I didn't want to be his friend. Our interests made almost perfect overlap and I thought the inevitable comparison to his disadvantage.
That first year our discussions of religion and politics played a role in his decision to reject the Republican party (to my smugness) and his Jewish faith (to my horror). I decided to take him under my wing. He fast became my closest Davis friend and he proved at least as much an asset to me as I to him. Many if not most of my Davis friends can be traced back to him. His Junior year he joined and quickly rose to high position in the Davis College Democrats (DCD). That same year his grades tumbled and he is now attending classes at a community college. He has participated in two major political campaigns.
Brandon is the salt of the earth. He is affable, hard working and more talented in California politics, geography and music than I could ever hope to be.
In addition to the aforementioned, the following friends have also been mentioned on The Dilettante:
Howard Luong
I became friends with Howard almost immediately at college's start and we've been roommates with Brandon since we moved out of the dorms. He's a quiet and studious physics major and has been going out with Tammy Leung since almost as long as we've been friends. Though we laugh at his resemblance to a couple stereotypes, Howard is full of wild ideas. He's the brain behind our household's ghetto improvements and spends his spare time improving his Chinese and following the stock market.
Greg Webb
Greg is a Junior who joined us this year as our fourth roommate. He was originally a friend of Brandon's from DCD, and he's also intensely involved in our student government and a charity group called Circle K. He is running for ASUCD Senator as an independent and secured The Aggie's number one endorsement.
Elisa Hough
Elisa is a recent UCD graduate who remains a fixture at KDVS. She held the title of Publicity Director and edited KDViationS, the station's quarterly mag. This past summer she hosted folk acts in her backyard on a semiregular basis and they rocked everyone's socks off.
John Lazur
John works under my boss Richard at the Chem Dispensary and occasionally supervises me. He's a Penn State grad in his late twenties. We became friends talking about music, philosophy and East Coast/West Coast culture. Though disarmingly likeable, he's quite intelligent. He's also an accomplished rock musician.
Bri
My sister is two and a quarter years younger than me, three in school. She presently attends UC Santa Cruz. She is adored by everyone she meets. Not so haunted by internal demons, she is less overtly smart than me, yet she is my intellectual equal. Though we hardly look alike, we think in similar but complimentary ways. Where I was my father's student, she was mine.
During our childhood she was my worst enemy. In those years she defined "annoying". With our parents' divorce, we became the only people we lived with continuously. As age mellowed her out, we became as close as brother and sister can be. I love her more than anything or anyone.
Matt
I met Matt in preschool and soon we were best friends. In grade school our mothers had a falling out and we drifted away. We shared a common group of friends until I cut ties my junior year of high school. Just as I made my own way, however, our friendship rekindled. By senior year he was one of my three best friends and we again shared most of our friends.
Matt is careful, steady and in possession of excellent taste. He has been going out with Parisa since high school and will soon graduate UC Santa Barbara with a Bachelors in Mechanical Engineering.
Allison
Allison and I first met in preschool at age three. Though we continued to different schools, her's became our closest family friends. Those years I played with her brothers and she with my sister.
My Junior year I developed a huge crush on her. We became close through AIM conversations and dated briefly. After she rebuffed me, we returned to our lives at our respective schools. The summer before college we discovered that we were the only friends we had going to Davis. I was simultaneously overjoyed and horrified because I knew my crush was liable to kill me. True to expectations, I was haunted through much of college by my feelings for her. Things have been much simplified since I got over it.
Allison is an animal lover and a creative writer of savage wit. More than any of my friends she has endeavored to keep my ego in check. When we went to college she reinvented herself as the outgoing, friendly "Allie", but I will always see her for her thoughtful, bookworm self.
Marisa
In possession of a million best friends, a brilliant mind and a sterling work ethic, Marisa is the friend I most respect. Hardly wasting a spare minute of life and sleeping some fraction of that required by mere mortals, she is the most intense person I have ever met.
She befriended me my Junior year of high school and I have never enjoyed competing with someone more. We frequently discussed politics and she remains in my mind the epitome of the intelligent, articulate conservative. We became especially close after my friend Caius broke up with her. She approaches her Mormon faith with as much intensity as everything else in her life. She is presently on Mission in the Czech Republic.
Caius
Acquainted first at high school's outset, Caius and I weren't friends until our Senior year. Sophmore year he actually told me, "Go away. I don't like you." That crystallized why the year was my lifetime nadir. The next year, he epitomized the incredible turnaround in public opinion of me and we became close friends within weeks of Senior year's start.
Our friendship was founded on mutual fascination. He moved to California from Romania in middle school, but that cannot hope to explain the depth of his eccentricity. Caius is among the most mathematically gifted individuals I have ever met. He is an idealist with his head in the clouds, fascinated with nature, eastern philosophy and nineteenth century poetry. He found a natural affinity with the sometimes patently crazy residents of Berkeley's coops as well as apparently every hobo he has ever met.
Caius's European charm is such that he is quite the ladies man and he approaches his relationships and aspirations with remarkable passion. However, his passion is mitigated by his flakiness. He dropped out of school at Berkeley for a year, but has since returned to his studies.
Brandon
A consummate nerd and politico, Brandon passed out business cards with his name and facebook URL our first day in the dorms. At first, I didn't want to be his friend. Our interests made almost perfect overlap and I thought the inevitable comparison to his disadvantage.
That first year our discussions of religion and politics played a role in his decision to reject the Republican party (to my smugness) and his Jewish faith (to my horror). I decided to take him under my wing. He fast became my closest Davis friend and he proved at least as much an asset to me as I to him. Many if not most of my Davis friends can be traced back to him. His Junior year he joined and quickly rose to high position in the Davis College Democrats (DCD). That same year his grades tumbled and he is now attending classes at a community college. He has participated in two major political campaigns.
Brandon is the salt of the earth. He is affable, hard working and more talented in California politics, geography and music than I could ever hope to be.
In addition to the aforementioned, the following friends have also been mentioned on The Dilettante:
Howard Luong
I became friends with Howard almost immediately at college's start and we've been roommates with Brandon since we moved out of the dorms. He's a quiet and studious physics major and has been going out with Tammy Leung since almost as long as we've been friends. Though we laugh at his resemblance to a couple stereotypes, Howard is full of wild ideas. He's the brain behind our household's ghetto improvements and spends his spare time improving his Chinese and following the stock market.
Greg Webb
Greg is a Junior who joined us this year as our fourth roommate. He was originally a friend of Brandon's from DCD, and he's also intensely involved in our student government and a charity group called Circle K. He is running for ASUCD Senator as an independent and secured The Aggie's number one endorsement.
Elisa Hough
Elisa is a recent UCD graduate who remains a fixture at KDVS. She held the title of Publicity Director and edited KDViationS, the station's quarterly mag. This past summer she hosted folk acts in her backyard on a semiregular basis and they rocked everyone's socks off.
John Lazur
John works under my boss Richard at the Chem Dispensary and occasionally supervises me. He's a Penn State grad in his late twenties. We became friends talking about music, philosophy and East Coast/West Coast culture. Though disarmingly likeable, he's quite intelligent. He's also an accomplished rock musician.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Law and Marriage
As riveting as the prospect of two well-qualified presidential candidates may be, the most exciting decision to be made remains California Proposition 8, the state constitutional amendment to define marriage as heterosexual and thereby reverse the California Supreme Court ruling that allowed gay marriage. While this will certainly not reverse the fact that thousands of legally binding same-sex marriage contracts have already been issued or that plenty of other states now offer same-sex marriage, the fact remains that California is a big deal and both sides are approaching it with the urgency of a nuclear bomb threat.
I'm here to weigh in on the American legal system and its relevance to the institution of marriage as well as the battle for America's soul. Just as with prostitution, fireworks or most famously abortion, the American legal system was devised to promote a permissive society. Before Roe v. Wade, abortion was legal in several states and to anyone willing to travel to those states abortion was effectively legal across the country. Such is the nature of our system that it makes it difficult to legislate morality (and fire safety). The Constitution does not prohibit values voting, it merely stacks the deck against it.
It is important to consider that marriage is something of two distinct but overlapping definitions, legal and religious. Marriage has had legal ramifications and thus civil definition since law itself came into existence and religious definition likely since religion came into existence. This means that while the religious definition probably predates the civil one, Christian matrimony is certainly predated by civil marriage. While in countries with state religions the two were nearly inseparable, in a country of religious pluralism marriage is ultimately defined by the state. Consequently, many sects only recognize marriages they themselves have officiated and refuse to recognize civil divorces, including Mormonism and Catholicism.
The religious argument for discouraging homosexuality is fairly sound and I won't dispute it here, but we should remember that in a country of many faiths the government should act as the common denominator rather than a tool of one faith against another (I speak here of Christian sects whose Biblical interpretation allows for gay marriage). In a permissive society such as ours, the side granting personal rights is never the aggressor.
We can only conclude that the present point of contention is one of the formal acceptance of homosexuality and societal definition rather than religion per say. Though the California Supreme Court holds otherwise, extending marriage rights to same-sex couples is not necessarily intuitive. Polygamy flouts traditional Western marriage to the same degree as gay marriage (an expansion of numbers rather than gender) and actually has more anthropological precedent. What makes something “intuitive” is inevitably culturally dependent, so it was not the court's place to decide our state's policy. It is the court's place to interpret law.
Of course, there is hardly any practical argument against gay marriage. The state's recognition of marriage is founded in the binding power of monogamy. It grants rights to same-sex couples that have been sorely needed to reduce legal disputes and psychological strain. In addition to the talked-about hospital visitation rights and divisions of estate, gay marriage provides the stability required for raising families. I hear that this is being used to rally the religious right, but let us consider it for a moment. Personally, I love the idea of converting statistically promiscuous, otherwise non-breeding gays into family people. I think it's tragic that orientation obfuscates the joys of parenthood and that society allows perfectly good potential parents to provide nothing more to our country than workforce.
Before you conservatives jump on me for this, consider that children raised by gays are no more likely to be gay than children from liberal families. It illustrates that in liberal America, acceptance of homosexuality is such that roughly one hundred percent of individuals with homosexual impulses come out of the closet. That is to say, the Christian Right might as well prohibit marriage of secular couples if the goal is to discourage children from growing up gay. Homosexuality is only something that “multiplies” in sexually repressed hardcore Christian circles. That is, only among people resisting homosexual impulses is it possible for gayness to act like a contagion and “turn” people gay.
So the argument remains one of permissivity vs. cultural conservatism, and I would urge both sides to refrain from lies and name-calling. Schools don't teach marriage nor does the first amendment allow government to tell people/churches whom to marry and supporting Proposition 8 does not make one a bigot, a hick or a hypocrite.
I'm here to weigh in on the American legal system and its relevance to the institution of marriage as well as the battle for America's soul. Just as with prostitution, fireworks or most famously abortion, the American legal system was devised to promote a permissive society. Before Roe v. Wade, abortion was legal in several states and to anyone willing to travel to those states abortion was effectively legal across the country. Such is the nature of our system that it makes it difficult to legislate morality (and fire safety). The Constitution does not prohibit values voting, it merely stacks the deck against it.
It is important to consider that marriage is something of two distinct but overlapping definitions, legal and religious. Marriage has had legal ramifications and thus civil definition since law itself came into existence and religious definition likely since religion came into existence. This means that while the religious definition probably predates the civil one, Christian matrimony is certainly predated by civil marriage. While in countries with state religions the two were nearly inseparable, in a country of religious pluralism marriage is ultimately defined by the state. Consequently, many sects only recognize marriages they themselves have officiated and refuse to recognize civil divorces, including Mormonism and Catholicism.
The religious argument for discouraging homosexuality is fairly sound and I won't dispute it here, but we should remember that in a country of many faiths the government should act as the common denominator rather than a tool of one faith against another (I speak here of Christian sects whose Biblical interpretation allows for gay marriage). In a permissive society such as ours, the side granting personal rights is never the aggressor.
We can only conclude that the present point of contention is one of the formal acceptance of homosexuality and societal definition rather than religion per say. Though the California Supreme Court holds otherwise, extending marriage rights to same-sex couples is not necessarily intuitive. Polygamy flouts traditional Western marriage to the same degree as gay marriage (an expansion of numbers rather than gender) and actually has more anthropological precedent. What makes something “intuitive” is inevitably culturally dependent, so it was not the court's place to decide our state's policy. It is the court's place to interpret law.
Of course, there is hardly any practical argument against gay marriage. The state's recognition of marriage is founded in the binding power of monogamy. It grants rights to same-sex couples that have been sorely needed to reduce legal disputes and psychological strain. In addition to the talked-about hospital visitation rights and divisions of estate, gay marriage provides the stability required for raising families. I hear that this is being used to rally the religious right, but let us consider it for a moment. Personally, I love the idea of converting statistically promiscuous, otherwise non-breeding gays into family people. I think it's tragic that orientation obfuscates the joys of parenthood and that society allows perfectly good potential parents to provide nothing more to our country than workforce.
Before you conservatives jump on me for this, consider that children raised by gays are no more likely to be gay than children from liberal families. It illustrates that in liberal America, acceptance of homosexuality is such that roughly one hundred percent of individuals with homosexual impulses come out of the closet. That is to say, the Christian Right might as well prohibit marriage of secular couples if the goal is to discourage children from growing up gay. Homosexuality is only something that “multiplies” in sexually repressed hardcore Christian circles. That is, only among people resisting homosexual impulses is it possible for gayness to act like a contagion and “turn” people gay.
So the argument remains one of permissivity vs. cultural conservatism, and I would urge both sides to refrain from lies and name-calling. Schools don't teach marriage nor does the first amendment allow government to tell people/churches whom to marry and supporting Proposition 8 does not make one a bigot, a hick or a hypocrite.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Face Paint
Face paint is officially awesome.
Face paint is infinitely superior to masks. Breathable, flexible and compact not to mention emotive, face paint has the capacity to radically change your appearance with little money and full artistic license. Face paint can be deeply creepy or frightening without being static.
Of course, at college Halloween parties like the ones I visited this past weekend in Isla Vista, looking creepy and/or frightening is rarely the objective. For girls, Halloween is generally treated as an excuse to wear as little as possible. While guys are permitted a bit more wiggle room, considering Halloween mythology it is remarkable how nonthreatening the vast majority of costumes are. Come to think of it, Santa Barbara girls are no strangers to face paint, but the frightening result is sadly inadvertent.
I am a huge fan of holiday spirit and a hot nurse outfit just fails the Halloween litmus test. What happened to the desire to be thrilled by the holiday? Maybe these girls just thrill themselves at their own daring. I imagine standard costume-picking conversation to go something like this: "No way, that's just too slutty. I mean, that's over the line, even for you.""Oh, but yours is way sluttier than mine.""At least ours aren't as bad as so-and-so's.""Yeah!"
Don't get me wrong, I'm not bitter and I'm not opposed to cleavage. I'm just waiting to see a rabid playboy bunny with nasty, big, pointed teeth.
And I assure that you will find a truly creepy or frightening costume to be deeply rewarding. You are a living part of the Halloween dream. I was talking to this girl that night as a mime and she was quite friendly, but when I started hitting on her she practically ran away. Not one hundred percent sure that was the paint...
So dress not to impress, but to terrify those around you. I demand monsters! It is your holiday duty just as come December it will be to spread holiday cheer. Dress as a skeleton, a vampire, a zombie, as Frankenstein's monster or a sinister rabbit of pure evil, just recall what makes Halloween Halloween and not another costume party.
Face paint is infinitely superior to masks. Breathable, flexible and compact not to mention emotive, face paint has the capacity to radically change your appearance with little money and full artistic license. Face paint can be deeply creepy or frightening without being static.
Of course, at college Halloween parties like the ones I visited this past weekend in Isla Vista, looking creepy and/or frightening is rarely the objective. For girls, Halloween is generally treated as an excuse to wear as little as possible. While guys are permitted a bit more wiggle room, considering Halloween mythology it is remarkable how nonthreatening the vast majority of costumes are. Come to think of it, Santa Barbara girls are no strangers to face paint, but the frightening result is sadly inadvertent.
I am a huge fan of holiday spirit and a hot nurse outfit just fails the Halloween litmus test. What happened to the desire to be thrilled by the holiday? Maybe these girls just thrill themselves at their own daring. I imagine standard costume-picking conversation to go something like this: "No way, that's just too slutty. I mean, that's over the line, even for you.""Oh, but yours is way sluttier than mine.""At least ours aren't as bad as so-and-so's.""Yeah!"
Don't get me wrong, I'm not bitter and I'm not opposed to cleavage. I'm just waiting to see a rabid playboy bunny with nasty, big, pointed teeth.
And I assure that you will find a truly creepy or frightening costume to be deeply rewarding. You are a living part of the Halloween dream. I was talking to this girl that night as a mime and she was quite friendly, but when I started hitting on her she practically ran away. Not one hundred percent sure that was the paint...
So dress not to impress, but to terrify those around you. I demand monsters! It is your holiday duty just as come December it will be to spread holiday cheer. Dress as a skeleton, a vampire, a zombie, as Frankenstein's monster or a sinister rabbit of pure evil, just recall what makes Halloween Halloween and not another costume party.
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