kiya: (i accidentally)
( Oct. 9th, 2013 10:43 am)
My most recent Patheos column got excerpted on The Wild Hunt.
kiya: (writing)
( Jun. 14th, 2013 05:46 pm)
I have so much stuff to write.

* Monstrous theology poem
* Auto-invocatory poetry
* Whatever other poetry I need for my homework
* Opening post for Patheos gig
* Possibly contribution to magic-and-disability antho Alas, book announcement, not CFS, but that's off my list at least.
* Elizabeth's piety survey
* Polytheistic ethnography survey
* Stuff
* Things

What have I successfully written? Fanfic for [ profile] jenett.

Tomorrow, from I believe 10 am until 1 pm, Boston Common: permit achieved for near the visitor's center which is I believe by the Park Street T. While our festivities are in response to certain gentlefolk who have contributed to the decline of civil discourse, we intend to be genteel in our gathering.

Should you desire to attend for tea, kindly do endeavour to bring an appropriate contribution: cookies, wee sandwiches, other appropriate foods; tea, of course; drinking vessels and similar supplies. Do dress in a manner appropriate to polite society, and, "if not to the nines, at least to the four and a halves". Polite signs in favor of decorum, cucumber sandwiches for ready money, and excellent tea are encouraged; the official website has some suggestions.

KJ and I will be in attendance, barring disaster of the transit variety or rain. I will, of course, be wearing my morning coat and hat. Unfortunately, it will not be warm enough for KJ to dress for the occasion in her summer sundress, so the babe will be garbed in a prosaic and undistinguished fashion, alas.

Hope to see some of you there!

kiya: (headdesk)
( Feb. 7th, 2010 02:01 pm)
Two things, to reprise recent demonstrations of my own personal damage.

Over in a thread on the Yes Means Yes blog there's someone ranting about the evils of homeschooling because, among other things, "how can a relationship be realio trulio equal if only one person is bringing in significant income".

(Good to know that the measure of respect and importance and meaning in a relationship is made out of cash. Thank you so much for that kick in the face.)

In the couple weeks since I signed up on FetLife, I have seen, not just on FetLife itself, that stupid 'Polyamory is Wrong!' t-shirt linked four or five fucking times. Ha ha universe. Fuck you too.

In other news, I'm wondering if I'm getting PPD. It doesn't feel like depression-depression, but I'm constantly overwhelmed, want to cry for no particular reason, and various other things. It's ... very complicated in my head, which isn't helped by the low-level sense of illness (that is probably 'I haven't slept properly in a month, or well for eight or nine'). I need to sit and kala and probably do my regular Kemetic rituals and see if it helps, but mostly I just want to sob and be left alone.

Various states of family tension do not help, and have a bad habit of dragging up guilt and shame complexes (kala kala kala). And when my mind is working I want to parse calendars - I may post on that later - not, y'know, all the other shit that needs to be done for the household.

I am increasingly dreading most human interaction. Everyone wants 105% of what I can give, from the baby on up, except - maybe - my cat, who appears to be of the opinion that when I'm available for snuggles he'll take them but is otherwise self-managing.

Also, while I'm whingeing, my arms hurt, because I just helped [ profile] teinedreugan put a very heavy box up somewhere high and was supporting it for too long because we needed to get [ profile] whispercricket to snag a footstool for me to stand on so I (second tallest person in the household) could get high enough to finish the job, which would collapse horribly if I relaxed.

... this is an excellent metaphor for my entire life right now.
I think under many circumstances I might write this for the blog, but I really explicitly firmly am not wanting to treat it as something fucking political right now, because getting political in my personal is part of what fucks me over, and I don't want to do that processing level right now.

I have a defective relationship between money and self-worth. Like pretty much everyone else in our fucking culture.

I'm writing about this because I was talking with [ profile] teinedreugan about it yesterday? Friday? something because this is one of the issues in our sex life, but it's also, I've got too much crap in my head, so I need to excrete it somewhere and that's what livejournal is for!

Necessary background: )

So that's the needful background about my breakdown; skippable for people who either know about the breakdown or might find it upsetting to read a summary of someone else's screaming descent into gibbering failure and the consequences thereof.

So that was the circumstance under which I Entered The Workforce. )

It's not actually as bad as I've written it, the money thing, it's just. I need to write about this problem, so I've cut out the bits that aren't the problem. You know how it goes. But this is always there.
kiya: (mature wisdom)
( Apr. 16th, 2009 06:48 pm)
What is it about rasfc that provokes people into saying idiotic things about the LGBT community? Is there some sort of stupidity projector inhabiting that newsgroup that turns people who otherwise appear to be not damned fools into drooling incompetents with neither a sense of empathy nor sufficient imagination (as writers!) to comprehend ordinary humans?

Exhibit umpteen, which I found when I cycled usenet in the hopes of finding something that would break my vague state of useless depression:

    Personally, it would be cool if bisexuals didn't exist. They're confusing to heterosexual people like me, and also to homosexuals. And I imagine some of the bisexuals themselves are frustrated because they (some of them) want monogamy but can't decide what one sex they want to be monogamous with.

... what ... does one say? (Aside from, maybe, "How fortunate I am to not be a heterosexual person like you.")

And of course if I say half of what's in my head I'll be That Angry Queer again, never mind that I'm straight. But I know I'm pigeonholed from the last umpty-lump times someone said something that head-asplodingly blockheaded.


Whitney works on an LJ post about it, runs out of easily bringable-to-mind synonyms for 'stupid'.
Brooks [[ profile] brooksmoses] says, "I have a 1950s slang dictionary."
Whitney says, "... please share."
From A Natural Guide to Pregnancy and Postpartum Health by some people claiming to be medical professionals:

"Type 2 diabetes can often be fully resolved by returning to the appropriate weight for your height - often what you weighed in high school, assuming you were a relatively thin teenager."

This is not the first, "And yay, you can lose weight with this advice too!" bit of commentary in the book, but it's the one that finally has driven me to fuming rage.

Someone with 'MD' after his name (I don't know what the letterspew after the first-listed author means, and I can't be bothered looking it up) who's giving advice to postpartum women should perhaps keep in mind that skeletal development in things like the pelvis can continue until well into the twenties, and perhaps evaluating health on the basis of what an underdeveloped bone structure weighs is bone stupid.

And that's without getting into 'the appropriate weight for your height' as if there were only one, and it were totally independent of other health factors, heritage, bone structure, and so on. Or ....

.... damnit, I want to bite something.
kiya: (boggled)
( Apr. 27th, 2008 01:46 am)
rasfc is depressing the everliving fuck out of me.
kiya: (yes meets no)
( Aug. 25th, 2007 02:56 am)
One: Saw Stardust. (Link leads to a completely unrelated image. No spoilers are contained, but I hope the joke is as obvious as I think it is. Final conflict resolution scene, in case one needs a hint.)

The Other: Reading blogs I don't usually read confounds me sometimes. That one I stopped reading a discussion because the comment, "Yeah, I'd like bigger tits too" or something like that completely broke my suspension of disbelief. This is why I write fiction; reality is just too implausible.
Today, it occurs to me that someone who can seriously maintain mind/body dualism such that treatments of the two are in separate moral categories probably has the luck to have not had much experience with mental illness, chronic illness, or disability.

Given, that, y'know, I treat depression mostly with nutritional considerations and by trying to keep an eye on my activity level. And am familiar with the consequences on the psyche of the limitations of my body, though not as much so as some folks reading this.

Also given that my brother was at least at one point on a serotonin-related medication so that he didn't starve to death. Which is not unrelated to why I treat the depression nutritionally.

I will probably rant about this in the blog later, but damnit.

([ profile] zeborahnz and [ profile] green_knight, yes, this is related to the obvious context. I cannot participate more directly in the conversation there and remain within standards of civility that I would prefer to maintain, and unlike this bit of idiocy with the same party I am not required to be engaged directly.)
Okay, I blogged this already, but I must WTF to a larger audience.

A couple of shock jocks think it's a real trip when one of their guests suggests that he'd really like to rape a woman to death.

The hell is wrong with people anyway?

Time to curl up with a bottle of Woodchuck and just hide from the universe. What a capstone to a complicated evening coming across that shit was.
I need to thrash at this concept until I get it into an essay, I think, but I'm making a note of the seeds of it so I don't lose it entire.

[ profile] oneironaut and I were talking about power exchange relationships and related stuff, and responses to the possession of power, power and ma'at. Or what [ profile] arawen sometimes refers to as "If I don't take good care of my toys, I don't get to play with them anymore."

There's something heady about having someone else in a position of vulnerability, by whatever means. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things whether it's kink, whether it's economic power, whether it's social power, physical capacity, spiritual knowledge, anything else: the mere fact of the capacity to do is a drug. And it's not a drug everyone has the skill to handle well. (And the toxicity of the drug depends, I think, somewhat, on whether or not the vulnerability is more chosen than coerced.)

Is the response to an exposed vulnerability to raise up, to work it synergistically, to hold that position to keep access to the drug? Any exposed vulnerability is an intimacy -- this is heavy currency in d/s, but it's also one of those flows of political stress that comes of being an oppressed minority, forced to be constantly more exposed, more intimate, to more people, with less consent, less freedom to say "I don't want to be naked here." Is that intimacy cherished, loved, protected, or is it played for personal advantage? Is it an intimacy that people can refuse to have if they don't want to be exposed, or don't want to be a party to someone else's exposure? (And that goes off into questions of [fitb] privilege rather handily -- not only the confidence of being able to lay a hand on a shirt, but the ability to not notice when other people are stripped, to step away from the whole question.)

My experience of d/s situations is that they make these reactions, the responses to power and exposure, all very immediate and present. [ profile] oneironaut and I exchanged "You know who you really are when" comments about it -- the whole question of whether or not the jump when granted intense, extensive power over another person is towards ma'at or away. It's always, always, always going to be a drug, but there are good trips and bad trips, and good ways of dealing with the chemistry and bad ones.

I come around to my tendency towards fealty models, exchange of powers, interdependent obligations.

And I come around to, sometimes, choosing to be naked beneath everything, because I show myself who I really am.

(Words aren't coming out quite right. Oh well.)

(ETA: This is partly related to discussion linked from [ profile] takingsteps, too.)
The Dope has thrown up another polygamy-legalisation thread, which has some reasonably productive conversation in it, aside from what I shall term the golddigging whore problem.

Specifically: a couple of people expressed that if polygamy were legal, the wealthy, powerful men would collect sufficiently all of the women that the poorer people would be deprived of spouses.

I just responded to one of the bits of sexism -- the standard presumption that it's only men who are interested in multiple relationships.

I'm finding myself completely boggled by the impending golddigging whore shortage that these people are worried about. I mean, setting aside the fact that the actors, politicians, and other denizens of the supermarket tabloid world don't seem to have any problems collecting as many MOTAS as strike their fancy right now, and this doesn't seem to deprive the rest of the world of a reasonably adequate dating pool.

But there's the whole ... okay, you're upset that someone who's primarily interested in being an adjunct to power and money may be going somewhere far, far away from you? Leaving behind all the normal people who are interested in finding partners that they love and care about, or at least can shag satisfactorily?

It's one of those things that leaves me wondering what the hell alternate dimension people are writing from. There was the guy who posted that he expected that most women were in the golddigging whore category, and I just wonder which one of us is the space alien. I've met maybe one person in my life who might qualify, and since we were in school at the time and thus nobody we associated with had significant money in the first place it's hard to tell whether or not she grew into one. I can't imagine my sample size is all that damn weird.

[ Must change the music to what's playing now, hah. ]

It's one of those places where -- if it wasn't so fucking bizarre -- would leave me wondering, again, how I wound up on this planet. Here I'm pretty sure those other people are the ones who recently stepped through the transdimensional portal without noticing the transition.

It was nonetheless nice to see [ profile] queenofhalves link [ profile] bitchphd, who mentioned Crittenden's book, which is, alas, about the universe I grew up in, more's the pity, but it at least reminds me that I'm not alone.
Inherited Negotiation, Obligated Commitment )
kiya: (smack)
( Jun. 26th, 2006 05:01 pm)
This is a political post. Keep in mind that I don't like feeling political, I find feeling political to be a visceral response to a wrongness in the universe, feeling political is "Every Hetheru has an inner Sekhmet", it's not a mode I find natural or comfortable, so this may be incoherent and ranty in bits.

Since I'm being incoherent and ranty on the subject of sexuality, who knows, it may be incoherent, ranty, and not entirely safe for work. Probably won't be, but I haven't written it yet, so I'm making warning noises about the possibility.

Also, the random music selection is amusing me in a dark bitter chocolate sort of way.

Okay, enough disclaimer.

Women's sexuality, ownership thereof. )
Decided I wanted to save it.

Society/gay marriage )


kiya: (Default)


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