An apology to women

I am a decently sympathetic soul.

I can appreciate the ideas behind what it means to be deeply religious or spiritual (i have been and am still a little of both, after all). Intellectually i can even appreciate the comfort behind bigotry and fear based cultural relations. I have experienced the tumult of teenager-dom in America, so i don't completely discount the rancorous outcry from toady's youth over...everything. I am capable, i think, of appreciating the origin and reasoning behind almost any perspective or attitude, even if i vehemently disagree with the conclusions drawn from that attitude.

That said, i am terrified to try to write from the perspective of a woman. You people terrify me.

I understand that a woman's perspective is not entirely defined by the fact that she is female. We are no more exclusively defined by our gender identity than we are our political view, or religious practice, or ethnic origin; i get that. what i experience the most discomfort with is that there are, quite simply put, marked differences between the perspective offered the two sexes due in no small part to do with things entirely owing to genetics and biology and not personality.

this is a truism that i have never been entirely comfortable admitting outloud. i think that is to do with my fear of castration and effigy mutilation. not because i fear that i actually AM sexist, simply that i will be percieved as such. this, ladies and gentlemen, is the curse of socially indoctrinated guilt.

it's certainly not that i think that women are the only creatures subject to cycles of hormonal highs and lows; the ebb and flow of our natural similarity to the lunar cycle. i've come to recognize that i have a monthly cycle that takes quite a prominent place in how i deal with the situations set before me. i have good days, bad days, and days somewhere in between, and i'm coming to recognize the schedule in which they operate.

but how the hell do i write for a synthetic organizm who identifies as female, was designed as a fascimile of a ten year old girl, is now over twenty years old and wants to rebuild herself in the image of the woman she feels she has become? how do you adress that kind of distinct shift from girlhood to womanhood without making more about the person (for this A.I. is a person, no doubt) making the augmentation than the...augmentations themselves?

help me, friends. women, women everywhere, and i'unno how they think.

Lyrics to songs i'll write once i learn how to write music

I remember then, a while before,
I sideswiped a Chevy four door
In a town so very precious for
The blonde bombshell borne in Pigeon Forge,

My timings terrible they tell me,
And i hate to admit i agree,
Though i remember at twenty three
Being a touch more true to my capacity to gracefully structure a line...

Don't ask this broken brain the time or day,
Or expect a named remembered please,
But lets shake hands and friendlies stay,
As we exchange our brainy pedigree!

(Chourus)
A nerd, a nerd, you've fallen on a nerd,
though in this day and age, the title is absurd,
Neither of the two of we could ever disagree that
We've stumbled mightily and serindipadly into Valley
Valley of Nerd and Bard and Thinking corners,
Where the mighty thoughtful Jacky Horner
Did pull out before my unbelieving eye
An idea like a plum from this existential quandary pie.

So follow me well fast behind my oft loquacious find
for you and i have but hours to get our minds in lind
Before the party starts and the music plays
And the air takes on its hazey ways
And we all take a moment to kindly realize
That the friends and the family before our eyes
Are those we can value to a degree quite absurd,
Because ever single one of us, ever daughters son and sister
Every waistcoat and bowler cap and ugg boot wearing mister
is an un abashed and un relenting...

Nerd!

(Chourus)

where the hell am i?

Pigeon Forge, is where.

I'm in some strange limbo for the high school social network dropout. That kid that was e'er on the outskirts of social clamouring during adolescence? Me. Choice and circumstance always saw me an observer as apposed to a participant in the ever twining network of connectivity and gossip that constitutes the majority of a person's life when they're in school (primary and higher). I just never caught the appeal, and always found the practice of engrossing oneself in the life of another person for the sake of opportunistic voyeurism a little distasteful (he posted on his blog. hypocrisy strikes again!).

that is this place. we're all gossping, partying children again. but now we don't have a curfew, we don't have homework, and our parents are so bloody far out of the picture that we might as well be in never never land.

it's exhausting. the investment we lay in our personae building, the charmless way we attack each other through each other, the barely masked animosities we hold to ideas or principles at conflict...it's exhausting.

i have these next three days (monday, tuesday, and wednesday) to recover before i'm back to work. wish me luck.