The word cliché is an onomatopoeia which imitates the sound that a printing machine makes when the typeset strikes the molten metal. This word quite literally derives from the idea of making duplicates of an established master copy.
Likewise, the word stereotype was also coined in the world of printing, and was first used in literature in 1922 by a man named Walter Lippmann: "Whether right or wrong, imagination is shaped by the pictures seen ... Consequently, they lead to stereotypes that are hard to shake."
Last week I had the opportunity to discuss, challenge, and oddly affirm some stereotypes of Japanese culture. We were a bizarre group: 3 gay deaf Japanese boys and a white gay hearing American feeling-slightly-chunky-in-comparison me.
In Japanese culture it is entirely appropriate to comment on the body size of your friends. Makoto, a skinny little thing that couldn't metabolize fat if it killed him, noted that people with extra meat on their bones are quite popular in Japan. Then, he added that I would be a big hit in the Pacific.
BITCH.
He later retracted the statement (upon seeing my culture-shocked face) and quickly revised his comment: "No no no, what I mean is that you're chubby."
When the waiter brought empty plates to the table the Japanese boys instinctively whipped out their napkins and began to smooth away the porcelain surfaces. I felt immediately out of place, and in the spirit of true conformity I was half-tempted to begin wiping as well.
More gay Japanese cultural info: threesomes are frowned upon, bath houses are considered normal and are encouraged, disclosure of sexuality could upset the family line and is often hush-hush.
So, if you're ever having a conversation with some Japanese people and they ask you your blood type within 5 minutes of meeting you, please do not be alarmed.
And keep those stereotypes in check: Makoto and his boys talked about falling asleep on the metro, took pictures of all our food, and headed to a strip club after dinner.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Sunday, August 27, 2006
different people
I was working in the dorm office the other day when a student's mother decided to horrify me with the most blatantly racist comment I've come across in a while:
"I noticed there are a lot of black people outside. Is my son going to be safe here?"
*sound of my jaw hitting the ground*
That very day I went into a Subway where a woman was having difficulty expressing the precise kind of condiments she wanted on her sub. The Subway sandwich artist's first language was not English. She ended up screaming at the top of her lungs "Cut it up!!! Cut it up!!! Cut it up!!!" Now, is that necessary?
Is it pessimistic or merely realistic to realize that we as humans seem to be continuously striving to systematically categorize and exclude others that we feel do not fit into our concept of "normal"? He's fat, she's gay, they're foreigners, and you're another race. How many labels can we possibly assume?
A woman was recently fired from her position as a sunday school teacher at a Baptist church simply because she was a woman. In her letter of dismissal a Biblical passage was quoted as the reason for her termination. Can you imagine? Lucky for us the Bible stays quiet about different races, otherwise we might have "justified" genocides.
And nothing fuels the American fire more than the immigration debate. "But they're using our tax dollars!!!" (and "doing the jobs that we won't do" -- good lord!!!). Apparently birth privilege isn't enough for us- we want those other people not to be given the same opportunities we have to make something out of life.
A humble reminder to everyone in America who claims a stake in their homeland and seeks to drive our foreign invaders:
A sign on an office door somewhere in DC: "American Indians -- Fighting illegal immigration since 1492"
"I noticed there are a lot of black people outside. Is my son going to be safe here?"
*sound of my jaw hitting the ground*
That very day I went into a Subway where a woman was having difficulty expressing the precise kind of condiments she wanted on her sub. The Subway sandwich artist's first language was not English. She ended up screaming at the top of her lungs "Cut it up!!! Cut it up!!! Cut it up!!!" Now, is that necessary?
Is it pessimistic or merely realistic to realize that we as humans seem to be continuously striving to systematically categorize and exclude others that we feel do not fit into our concept of "normal"? He's fat, she's gay, they're foreigners, and you're another race. How many labels can we possibly assume?
A woman was recently fired from her position as a sunday school teacher at a Baptist church simply because she was a woman. In her letter of dismissal a Biblical passage was quoted as the reason for her termination. Can you imagine? Lucky for us the Bible stays quiet about different races, otherwise we might have "justified" genocides.
And nothing fuels the American fire more than the immigration debate. "But they're using our tax dollars!!!" (and "doing the jobs that we won't do" -- good lord!!!). Apparently birth privilege isn't enough for us- we want those other people not to be given the same opportunities we have to make something out of life.
A humble reminder to everyone in America who claims a stake in their homeland and seeks to drive our foreign invaders:
A sign on an office door somewhere in DC: "American Indians -- Fighting illegal immigration since 1492"
Sunday, August 20, 2006
hanging out with Deaf people
It is an immense privilege to know sign language. Instantaneously you are transported into a different world of a vibrant, living culture at the crossroads of linguistics and kinestheses. You become more comfortable with your own body and how you express yourself, and you see life through an extraordinarily different set of lenses.
What's particularly interesting is seeing how society reacts to deaf people, and how that reaction changes once they realize you're actually hearing.
It's a fine line to walk as a person who can communicate effortlessly in both languages: Do I tell the waiter I'm hearing? (at the risk of the waiter ignoring everyone else at the table for the remainder of the evening) Do I say nothing and let people assume I'm deaf? Do I volunteer to interpret for friends?
And another thing I've noticed- I get hit on more when I'm signing!!! Is there something different about me when I'm signing, or do men feel more comfortable chatting it up with deaf people? Once I start voicing I can see the intrigue fade from their eyes; I've lost my magic spark.
At some bars in the past few weeks I've been in situations where I was trying to execute a fairly difficult juggling act between being pleasant and conversational with the boys while not excluding deaf friends from the conversation. The result is usually interpreting, which is fine, but like so often in interpreting situations it is that person facilitating communication who ironically is left out of the discussion.
I would like to say that in a perfect world everyone would know sign language and these issues wouldn't present themselves. But then how else could I talk openly about the hottie standing next to be at the bar without him knowing it?!?
What's particularly interesting is seeing how society reacts to deaf people, and how that reaction changes once they realize you're actually hearing.
It's a fine line to walk as a person who can communicate effortlessly in both languages: Do I tell the waiter I'm hearing? (at the risk of the waiter ignoring everyone else at the table for the remainder of the evening) Do I say nothing and let people assume I'm deaf? Do I volunteer to interpret for friends?
And another thing I've noticed- I get hit on more when I'm signing!!! Is there something different about me when I'm signing, or do men feel more comfortable chatting it up with deaf people? Once I start voicing I can see the intrigue fade from their eyes; I've lost my magic spark.
At some bars in the past few weeks I've been in situations where I was trying to execute a fairly difficult juggling act between being pleasant and conversational with the boys while not excluding deaf friends from the conversation. The result is usually interpreting, which is fine, but like so often in interpreting situations it is that person facilitating communication who ironically is left out of the discussion.
I would like to say that in a perfect world everyone would know sign language and these issues wouldn't present themselves. But then how else could I talk openly about the hottie standing next to be at the bar without him knowing it?!?
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Science vs. Religion
The science vs. religion debate is like a round of wrestling in the WWF: we don't like to talk about it, we may even actively avoid it, but eventually our channel changer somehow brings us tirelessly back to watching the ostentatious display of brawns, poorly executed dialogue, and shimmering shaved bodies going at it in a disappointingly non-sexual way (I just imagined Jesus and Satan in the ring: Jesus takes two chairs and multiplies them to bitch-slap the 5,000).
So imagine my surprise when cruising past Catholic University the other day and coming upon Maloney Hall, the building of the Department of Chemistry.
It made me wonder: why can't we all just get along??? Let's consider the similarities between science and religion:
-Gathering data: form hypothesis and test it vs. drown women to see if they are witches.
-Arguing evidence: critiques in journals and publications vs. burning people at the stake.
OK ... maybe there are some differences. But before we start splitting atoms from Adams, let's examine the scientific contributions Christianity has made to the world:
-Changing physical properties of matter: water into wine
-Defying the laws of gravity: walking on water (perhaps they had drunk too much wine and were really just standing in a puddle of their own urine?)
So what does the Chemistry Department at C.U. do, then? Shed light on this ongoing debate to further educate the masses on the symbiotic relationship between science and god?
A quote from a sample comp exam file found on their website: "The purpose of this study was to identify the number of protonic sites and characterize their role in catalysis by thrombin in the hydrolysis of chromogenic substrates that contain some of the P1-P3 specificity sites."
Thats right CU, you show those atheists what's up.
So imagine my surprise when cruising past Catholic University the other day and coming upon Maloney Hall, the building of the Department of Chemistry.
It made me wonder: why can't we all just get along??? Let's consider the similarities between science and religion:
-Gathering data: form hypothesis and test it vs. drown women to see if they are witches.
-Arguing evidence: critiques in journals and publications vs. burning people at the stake.
OK ... maybe there are some differences. But before we start splitting atoms from Adams, let's examine the scientific contributions Christianity has made to the world:
-Changing physical properties of matter: water into wine
-Defying the laws of gravity: walking on water (perhaps they had drunk too much wine and were really just standing in a puddle of their own urine?)
So what does the Chemistry Department at C.U. do, then? Shed light on this ongoing debate to further educate the masses on the symbiotic relationship between science and god?
A quote from a sample comp exam file found on their website: "The purpose of this study was to identify the number of protonic sites and characterize their role in catalysis by thrombin in the hydrolysis of chromogenic substrates that contain some of the P1-P3 specificity sites."
Thats right CU, you show those atheists what's up.
Friday, August 18, 2006
mad mad world
Interesting occurrences in the past few weeks:
My bus driver on the 80 abruptly pulled over, stopped the bus, kissed a woman on the road, got back in, and continued driving without comment.
I saw a woman at a disability conference who seemed to have matched the painting on her wheelchair to her dress (accessorizing accessibility?)
A man on the Metro smiled and nodded enthusiastically upon seeing a SideKick in my lap (or maybe it was something else in my lap?).
An unusually high percentage of gay men walking along the road that leads up to Catholic University.
Running into a girl I made out with at a party a while back ... *car tires screeching to a hault* ... yes, I am ashamed ... especially after seeing her in full lighting. There was alcohol, it is my only defense.
My bus driver on the 80 abruptly pulled over, stopped the bus, kissed a woman on the road, got back in, and continued driving without comment.
I saw a woman at a disability conference who seemed to have matched the painting on her wheelchair to her dress (accessorizing accessibility?)
A man on the Metro smiled and nodded enthusiastically upon seeing a SideKick in my lap (or maybe it was something else in my lap?).
An unusually high percentage of gay men walking along the road that leads up to Catholic University.
Running into a girl I made out with at a party a while back ... *car tires screeching to a hault* ... yes, I am ashamed ... especially after seeing her in full lighting. There was alcohol, it is my only defense.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
semantics
Have you ever thought about how homo-erotic the cigarette has become? Just consider the vocabulary that has become associated with this friend of emphysema: stick, butt, and fag (for you Brits ... I won't even comment on "fanny packs"). Now really, is all that necessary?
Changes in semantics and vernacular are customary for every language; it is this evolution of language that gives us the beauty of a variety of tongues across the world (unless you like the Babel story; honestly, though, a bunch of people running around unable to communicate while trying to accomplish something ... wait wait, no, that's Capitol Hill ...).
Consider the many definitions of the word "GAY": merry (happily excited), bright (lively), given to social pleasures (licentious), and homosexual (I'm sorry, there seems to be a huge amount of redundancy in the Merriam-Webster).
I found an interesting webpage (http://www.queerbychoice.com/men2men.html -- I'm not too keen on the "by choice" part, however) that provides a list of terms used to describe gay men. Some are quite amusing: Bog queen, Aunt Fancy, church mouse, finocchio (Italian word, also means "leek" ... odd ...), friend of Dorothy's, lavender cowboy, Muscle Mary, sheep-herder, and waffle (perpendicular with sticky stuff? Let your imagination do some walking ...).
Strangely enough, both Nance and Bruce are on the list (my mother's name), which could lead us down the path of some Freudian conversation that I shall avoid for the sake of the common good.
Signed yours truly,
Batty-boy
Changes in semantics and vernacular are customary for every language; it is this evolution of language that gives us the beauty of a variety of tongues across the world (unless you like the Babel story; honestly, though, a bunch of people running around unable to communicate while trying to accomplish something ... wait wait, no, that's Capitol Hill ...).
Consider the many definitions of the word "GAY": merry (happily excited), bright (lively), given to social pleasures (licentious), and homosexual (I'm sorry, there seems to be a huge amount of redundancy in the Merriam-Webster).
I found an interesting webpage (http://www.queerbychoice.com/men2men.html -- I'm not too keen on the "by choice" part, however) that provides a list of terms used to describe gay men. Some are quite amusing: Bog queen, Aunt Fancy, church mouse, finocchio (Italian word, also means "leek" ... odd ...), friend of Dorothy's, lavender cowboy, Muscle Mary, sheep-herder, and waffle (perpendicular with sticky stuff? Let your imagination do some walking ...).
Strangely enough, both Nance and Bruce are on the list (my mother's name), which could lead us down the path of some Freudian conversation that I shall avoid for the sake of the common good.
Signed yours truly,
Batty-boy
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Eastern Market
Although I've lived less than a mile away from Eastern Market since last September, just in the past week I have discovered several new exciting reasons why I should hop the local bus down to this niche of the DC southeastern quadrant:
Remingtons: gay bar where the buff and beefy come to line dance, drink, and be merry with intent to woo, Tuesday night buy-one-get-one-free, assuming the bartender can count to two (some drama there last time). In the span of one week I've now been there 3 times, aiya ...
Bread and Chocolate: cute however slightly pretentious café, gorgeous desserts (cinnamon and ginger mousse in a chocolate teacup, divine).
6:45 a.m. : military boys out in packs of 4 on their morning jogs down Pennsylvania Avenue.
Therefore Eastern Market equals: men, food, more men. It's the perfect man-sandwich, fit to satisfy any appetite.
And the tastier, the better.
Remingtons: gay bar where the buff and beefy come to line dance, drink, and be merry with intent to woo, Tuesday night buy-one-get-one-free, assuming the bartender can count to two (some drama there last time). In the span of one week I've now been there 3 times, aiya ...
Bread and Chocolate: cute however slightly pretentious café, gorgeous desserts (cinnamon and ginger mousse in a chocolate teacup, divine).
6:45 a.m. : military boys out in packs of 4 on their morning jogs down Pennsylvania Avenue.
Therefore Eastern Market equals: men, food, more men. It's the perfect man-sandwich, fit to satisfy any appetite.
And the tastier, the better.
Monday, August 7, 2006
The Wizard of Oz
The original film of the Wizard of Oz was re-released to theatres in 1949. Even on its second run it didn't do so well, and only became popular with general audiences years afterwards. Is it a masterpiece? A classic? A piece of crap?
After reading Wicked, the prequel to Dorothy's arrival and a charged political-drama of Oz, I decided to go back to the original text and read what has become a hallmark of American fantasy classics.
The pages of the original book, The Wizard of Oz, would be better spent in my bathroom for cleanup after a trip to the Cheesecake Factory.
It's basically the story of a fag hag and her 3 queens who traverse afar. Its boring, longwinded, and should not be read before operating heavy machinery.
Wicked, in the other hand, is entertaining (albeit looooong). The musical, which shares the same title but hardly the same storyline, is even more titillating (at least for me). And so, perhaps the legend of Oz improves with age.
But there is room for letdown in the wonderful world of Wicked, as was abrasively demonstrated to me in NYC last May. 3 hours prior to every show there is a lottery for front-row tickets (the worse view in the house) at a huge discount. The names of 18 lucky people are drawn; the others are told to screw themselves with a magic broom.
It's like watching an episode of The Price is Right: overweight mid-40s soccer moms squeal with delight, twink queens flit into the air and clap excitedly (yay!!!), even straight men let out of shout of "oh yeah!" (these brownie points could be exchanged for sex at any moment).
After renting a car and driving for hours just to get a glimpse of Glinda and entering the lottery 4 times that weekend, I learned that my luck had been bewitched and nothing could console me.
Except for that cinnamon bun. Oh, and rice pudding. Hmmm ... and a margarita. Oh and a gay porn shop!!! Perhaps I could buy some stilettos, click my heels 3 times, and pretend it all never happened ...
After reading Wicked, the prequel to Dorothy's arrival and a charged political-drama of Oz, I decided to go back to the original text and read what has become a hallmark of American fantasy classics.
The pages of the original book, The Wizard of Oz, would be better spent in my bathroom for cleanup after a trip to the Cheesecake Factory.
It's basically the story of a fag hag and her 3 queens who traverse afar. Its boring, longwinded, and should not be read before operating heavy machinery.
Wicked, in the other hand, is entertaining (albeit looooong). The musical, which shares the same title but hardly the same storyline, is even more titillating (at least for me). And so, perhaps the legend of Oz improves with age.
But there is room for letdown in the wonderful world of Wicked, as was abrasively demonstrated to me in NYC last May. 3 hours prior to every show there is a lottery for front-row tickets (the worse view in the house) at a huge discount. The names of 18 lucky people are drawn; the others are told to screw themselves with a magic broom.
It's like watching an episode of The Price is Right: overweight mid-40s soccer moms squeal with delight, twink queens flit into the air and clap excitedly (yay!!!), even straight men let out of shout of "oh yeah!" (these brownie points could be exchanged for sex at any moment).
After renting a car and driving for hours just to get a glimpse of Glinda and entering the lottery 4 times that weekend, I learned that my luck had been bewitched and nothing could console me.
Except for that cinnamon bun. Oh, and rice pudding. Hmmm ... and a margarita. Oh and a gay porn shop!!! Perhaps I could buy some stilettos, click my heels 3 times, and pretend it all never happened ...
Saturday, August 5, 2006
ex-straight
"He's just so beautiful and wonderful. Such a shame that he's straight." -- gay man, a.k.a. Me
"I know, I feel the same when I see a beautiful gay man." -- straight girl, frustrated on Gallaudet's campus (aren't they all?)
I'm reading a book, The Road Less Traveled, which suggests we can all traverse the tough terrain of life much better if we change our "map", i.e. our personal paradigm, of how we perceive the world. According to the author, mental illness results from an inability to change our map when confronted with new ideas and challenges.
The biggest cartographic challenge for me is this: When I meet an attractive man, I automatically assume he's gay (whats more, I'm always pointing north). There is no room on my map legend for a hottie straight boy.
Well, if Exodus International believes that gay people can become "ex-gays", then I firmly support the notion that straight people can become "ex-straights". Exodus derives from the Latin "the road out", however I would be pleased to show the hot-male straightees the "road in" (let's keep this clean, people, honestly let's have some maturity here).
So, I am planning to set up my own organization, Ingress International, which shall utilize various techniques to get these straight boys onto the right path (don't you love all these map references?). Some techniques used in the past to "ex"-gay men have been: aversion therapy (images matched with electric shocks), brain surgery, castration, positive therapy (images plus masturbation), therapy by tedium (show pictures of erotic stimuli until they are bored), and prayer.
So according to these therapeutic guidelines, here is the plan for Ingress International:
Aversion therapy: show straight men pictures of Rosanne and shock them (electricity possibly not required)
Brain surgery: using anesthetics the straights are put under (is that the same as going down?) and sliced open (deep probing may be required)
Castration: yeah ... we might skip this technique
Positive therapy: images plus masturbation, I will volunteer for the photo shoot
Therapy by tedium: do straightees ever tire of Playboy?
Prayer: I'm on my knees already ... please please please drink heavily and feel a little frisky tonight ...
Damn this map of mine.
"I know, I feel the same when I see a beautiful gay man." -- straight girl, frustrated on Gallaudet's campus (aren't they all?)
I'm reading a book, The Road Less Traveled, which suggests we can all traverse the tough terrain of life much better if we change our "map", i.e. our personal paradigm, of how we perceive the world. According to the author, mental illness results from an inability to change our map when confronted with new ideas and challenges.
The biggest cartographic challenge for me is this: When I meet an attractive man, I automatically assume he's gay (whats more, I'm always pointing north). There is no room on my map legend for a hottie straight boy.
Well, if Exodus International believes that gay people can become "ex-gays", then I firmly support the notion that straight people can become "ex-straights". Exodus derives from the Latin "the road out", however I would be pleased to show the hot-male straightees the "road in" (let's keep this clean, people, honestly let's have some maturity here).
So, I am planning to set up my own organization, Ingress International, which shall utilize various techniques to get these straight boys onto the right path (don't you love all these map references?). Some techniques used in the past to "ex"-gay men have been: aversion therapy (images matched with electric shocks), brain surgery, castration, positive therapy (images plus masturbation), therapy by tedium (show pictures of erotic stimuli until they are bored), and prayer.
So according to these therapeutic guidelines, here is the plan for Ingress International:
Aversion therapy: show straight men pictures of Rosanne and shock them (electricity possibly not required)
Brain surgery: using anesthetics the straights are put under (is that the same as going down?) and sliced open (deep probing may be required)
Castration: yeah ... we might skip this technique
Positive therapy: images plus masturbation, I will volunteer for the photo shoot
Therapy by tedium: do straightees ever tire of Playboy?
Prayer: I'm on my knees already ... please please please drink heavily and feel a little frisky tonight ...
Damn this map of mine.
Masturbate-a-thon
Title of the Yahoo! News headline:
"Hundreds expected to come to Masturbate-a-thon"
Now were they just being naughty, or do I read too much into things? And why do they have this section of the webpage labeled "Offbeat" news ???
Apparently for safe sex purposes, Marie Stropes International of Britain is hosting a fund"raise"er to increase awareness of HIV, AIDS, and just how gross it is to see some people jerking off.
Different rooms will be set up (comfort area, mixed area, and male or female-only rooms), participants must be 18 or older (I'd suggest a limit up to 40), and "the amount you raise depends on how many minutes you masturbate and/or how many orgasms you achieve".
First of all, this is obvious discrimination against men since we can pop the cork within a minute and general take at least a half-hour to recharge the batteries.
The police in Britain have given their approval *clap clap clap* ... wait, or is it *slap slap slap* ? I'm sure that Scotland Yard will be on "hand" to oversee the sea of flesh (remember, British police dont carry pistols, just nightsticks - ironically, the participants will already be beating themselves).
Now, will we allow our American prudery to interfere with a worthwhile cause to education, enlighten, and encourage public masturbation? NO, we must refrain from blowing our load of conservative discreteness in their faces.
To anyone who takes issue with the Brits, all I can say is- "Get a grip".
"Hundreds expected to come to Masturbate-a-thon"
Now were they just being naughty, or do I read too much into things? And why do they have this section of the webpage labeled "Offbeat" news ???
Apparently for safe sex purposes, Marie Stropes International of Britain is hosting a fund"raise"er to increase awareness of HIV, AIDS, and just how gross it is to see some people jerking off.
Different rooms will be set up (comfort area, mixed area, and male or female-only rooms), participants must be 18 or older (I'd suggest a limit up to 40), and "the amount you raise depends on how many minutes you masturbate and/or how many orgasms you achieve".
First of all, this is obvious discrimination against men since we can pop the cork within a minute and general take at least a half-hour to recharge the batteries.
The police in Britain have given their approval *clap clap clap* ... wait, or is it *slap slap slap* ? I'm sure that Scotland Yard will be on "hand" to oversee the sea of flesh (remember, British police dont carry pistols, just nightsticks - ironically, the participants will already be beating themselves).
Now, will we allow our American prudery to interfere with a worthwhile cause to education, enlighten, and encourage public masturbation? NO, we must refrain from blowing our load of conservative discreteness in their faces.
To anyone who takes issue with the Brits, all I can say is- "Get a grip".
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