A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Market...

We've found, when tabling at conferences and having general public events, that a surefire way of attracting people to come over to talk to you is to offer free candy (in a totally "not unmarked white van" kind of way). As we're having an Ask an Atheist event today out in the public, I decided to hop on over to the local Target and pick up some candy to munch on.

As I leave the store, I see a woman standing behind my car, her face stuck in an expression approximate to this:

She appears transfixed by something on the back of my car. What's on the back of my car, you ask?

Now, maybe I'm jumping to KHAAANconclusions, but I'd wager it was the bottom bumper sticker that had struck her with that reaction. I was about ten feet away from the car when she noticed me. I think she was quickly able to put it together that it was my car, given not only that I was walking toward it, but something about my attire may have also given me away:

No, I was not wearing the hat at the time.

She looked at me; curiously, her facial expression remained unchanged. Then back at the car.

Me.

Car.

Me.

Car.

Me.

Car.

Me.

At this point, she realized she was letting her children wander around in parking lot traffic, so she quickly gathered her children and moved on. All I could do was smile politely as she hurried on.

I will admit I get a skosh of schadenfreude at the idea that someone is so bothered by such innocuous messages.

Keeping Up Appearances

It's been brought to my attention that I'm not being anti-religious enough recently, so let me rectify that:

Wraaa, Jesus and Buddha with Muhammed, honor killings, God doesn't exist.

Thank you.

"Sign It Into Law" - A Review

Oh, petitions. Where would be without you? Very likely, a few states less with legalized marijuana and John Crichton and Aeryn Sun still in travel-ready pellet form on the bottom of an alien ocean.

My very near (well, metaphorically speaking) and dear friend Victoria Stoklasa (the second 'a' is silent) has many passions, one of the chief ones being politics and making change through our political system. In fact, she's so thrilled about that she even wrote a book about it - Sign It Into Law: How to Put Your Petition on the Ballot.

This may or may not be a recent
example of a petition.

It's a short read - weighing in at around 30 pages in the copy I read - but I note that in large part because it's still a very informative read (I note as someone who has no prior experience with how to formally petition our government), and the density of the information isn't too high - each page leaves you with something you didn't know before or hadn't considered before without the feeling like you're drinking from a firehose. This is even more appreciated by myself because I find myself toward the end of the fifth book of the "A Song of Ice & Fire Series", and, after some 700-odd pages with roughly 200 pages to go, a short read is all the more sweet (George, we gotta talk - I love your stories, man, but I'm not ready for these kinds of long-term commitments).

One of the ways the book achieves this short breadth is the omission of exact laws governing the petition process. This isn't a fault of the book, but a result of the fact that there aren't any centralized, universal (within the confines of our national borders) rules on petitions - they vary from state to state. Helpfully, there's an appendix of petition guidelines by state (with an "as of" date so you know whether or not you may need to brush up on them), giving a high-level overview of each state.

The book itself is fairly straight-forward, describing offices and people in your local and state governments that you might need to speak to to find out about varying portions of the petition process. What I really appreciated was the effort to which she went to maintain political neutrality in her book - being at least somewhat familiar with Victoria's politics, she definitely made an effort to make this a book for everyone, and not just a "how to get your <insert political leaning here> petition on the ballot". In something as politically charged as "how to get the government to do what you want it to do", some would really struggle with that, but she manages to, in my opinion, equally present a number of different initiatives and positively present them.

With regard to the format of the book, I enjoyed her closure of each chapter with a "true story", describing a humorous or helpful case relevant to petitioning. Let's be honest: there's only so much spice and zest you can inject into describing government processes, but Victoria manages to do a good job of keeping your interest. Each chapter is fairly short, which I find helpful to make me feel like I'm making progress through the book - again, helping to fight against the feeling that I'm just trudging through the book (George, I'm looking at you again).

The only thing I might have added would be a note specifically toward solicitation statutes - while she advises keeping cognizant of laws and rules around standing in public and semi-public locations (e.g., in front of stores and restaurants), petitioners who especially are going door-to-door should be aware of solicitation statutes - not necessarily because they'll prevent you from visiting each house, but because, in my experience, some homeowners can be especially vitriolic about a perceived violation of these statutes and, as someone who's having to face these people, being aware of the legality of you showing up on their doorstep is important.

All in all, an important read for anyone wanting to get started in the petitioning process. While this book won't hold all the answers to all of your questions, Victoria has managed to do a lot of the initial research and groundwork for any potential petitioner while providing plenty of helpful suggestions of where to find answers to further questions and problems you may encounter with the petitioning process.

The book "Sign it Into Law - How to Put Your Petition on the Ballot" will be available for sale starting May 27th, 2013.

Must-See Movies, Pt. 6

It's been a while since I've done one of these, but someone I met recently inspired me to finally get around to watching "The Apartment", which is, conveniently, number six in the list of 100 Must-See Movies!

The movie stars Jack Lemmon, an owner of an apartment that he lends out to various heads at his company for late-night liaisons with young, female accompaniment (which we can presume is without their wives' consent or knowledge) in order to garner favor that he'll later exchange for leverage in getting a promotion.

At the same time, Shirley MacLaine is the nice, sharp, and witty elevator attendant at Lemmon's place of work. She's involved with Lemmon's boss and is caught in a love affair that is barred by Lemmon's boss' very inconvenient marriage to his wife.

I won't spoil the ending, but I will say this: if you don't like "Mad Men" (I do not), the same type of sexism exuded by characters in that show runs abound in this film. The movie does a good job of showing how frivolously these men in the office flit from one fling to the next. Now, I'm not one against flings, but it's one of those "every woman loses" kind of situations - their wives, the secretaries, the phone operators, and the elevator operators are all just temporary forms of entertainment for these guys.

This isn't to say that it's a bad movie - quite the contrary. The message of the movie definitely doesn't approve of how these men treat women, and there's a heart-warming love tale at the center of it all (and, perhaps, a number of us can identify with Jack Lemmon's social awkwardness throughout the whole ordeal). Overall, I'm glad to have watched it.

Next up: Apocalypse Now!

A Recent and Brief Moment in Which I was a Transphobe

Recalled to me recently was my little stunt wherein I dressed as Jesus in order to undermine and, eventually, get to stop talking a street preacher who seemed to enjoy coming out to the local bar district and informing everyone about how Hell-oriented they were.

In the course of this, he became somewhat agitated with me, taking a moment from his diatribe to call me "...an idiot [...] wearing a dress...". At this point, I wheeled around on him, pointed my finger at him, and said, "What's wrong with a guy wearing a dress?"

Or, rather, at least, that's what I wish I had said.

What I actually said (which I must paraphrase, for I had left my stenographer at home that night) was, "Hey, he just said Jesus was wearing a dress! That's not very nice!"

I've not yet determined why I said that - cultural influences, family upbringing, and the bevy of other influences on an individual as they develop through the years are still on the table - but I regret saying it. So, to no one specific individual in particular, I'd like to issue an apology: I am sorry that, during that night, instead of standing up to transphobia, I perpetuated it.

I'm a progressive!

Now, some might ask: why am I making this post, if no one has confronted me about it (and, thus, some would reason, there is no one to apologize to)? I know it passes through some heads (including my own, as I try to keep myself in check) that I might be doing this for a "HEY, EVERYBODY, LOOK HOW PROGRESSIVE I AM!" kind of attention-gathering end, but I'd like to make it clear: I'm not (or, at least, I don't think I am). It took me a bit to enumerate why I felt the need to publicly post an apology to no one in particular, and these are the reasons that I've come up with:

1. I, indirectly, harmed my friends: I have, in varying forms and degrees, trans* friends. Transphobia is a very real and very dangerous issue, both in- and outside of the United States. Attending the Transgender Day of Rememberance helped drive that point into my head. I had the opportunity to stand up to a system of intolerance and bigotry that hurts my friends, and I failed to do so.
2. I perpetuated a system of violence: Even if I didn't have trans* friends, I still hurt people. Even if there were no trans* people within earshot who heard what I said (and I assure you - you're not going to be able to tell if someone is trans* just by looking at them), there were people who heard me reaffirm a message that implies that a man in a dress is something to be ashamed of, and there's a not-insignificant chance that they'll carry that with them. It ties directly into what else I've said above - I could have used the opportunity to do a public demonstration against transphobia, and I didn't. Instead of giving those people in public the chance to chew on the idea that a man in a dress isn't necessarily something to be ashamed of, I reaffirmed what was likely already in their heads.
3. Even the staunchest of LGBT advocates screw up: it's taken me a while to learn how a single misstep, mistake, or faux pax does not a transphobe, homophobe, biphobe, or other -phobe make (insofar as accepting criticism when I do make such mistakes). We're all products of our culture, and that culture, unfortunately, tends strongly toward the side of transphobia. Try as hard as we might, and as loud as we'll shout in support for LGBT equality, there may be some ticking time bomb of bad culture waiting within you.

The last part, I feel, is one I want to emphasize strongly, because I think it's a point everyone should take to heart, regardless if the movement in question is feminism, secularism, LGBT equality, or one of the many other very valid and productive movements: if you make a mistake, it does not make you a bad person. We all need to be aware that, when you're leading or participating in something of a counter-culture movement, you've likely been raised in that culture you're fighting against, and you've got biases as a result of that cultural influence that you may not be aware of. We need to be able to step back from how proud we are of being progressive and acknowledge what we've done - instead of saying, "That can't possibly be transphobic - I'm a HUGE ally!", stop and consider what you've said may actually be counter to your desired end goals. The benefits of this are two-fold: it gives you a chance to correct your behavior, preventing missteps like that in the future, and it raises awareness in others around you of similar practices that they may be equally -phobic, giving them a chance to do the same self-correction. When we create a culture in which staunch and enthusiastic advocates for great causes can freely apologize and acknowledge their mistakes (assuming genuine honesty behind the apology and acknowledgement), we continue to root out the bad little bits of culture left rooted deep within our psyches.

That's me, in this case. In the groups I run in, (most of) the people I associate with regard me as a generally nice guy. I'm not a transphobe (though if I'm blind to that, please: someone tell me), but I did something that was transphobic and wrong. These same people I associate with have helped create a culture where I can apologize and acknowledge that I screwed up and they'll still love me all the same, and, as a result, I have grown as a person. Hopefully, in the future, I'll make the right decision in a similar situation next time around.

The Truth of "States' Rights" Arguments

You've probably heard  by now that some North Carolina GOPers want to establish a state religion. While we all laugh at the stupidity of elected government officials who don't understand judicial precedence or the first amendment to the document that they otherwise put on a pedestal (and shouldn't it worry us that they're supposed to be managing laws?), I think there's a big point to be drawn on from the text of the bill:

SECTION 1. The North Carolina General Assembly asserts that the Constitution of the United States of America does not prohibit states or their subsidiaries from making laws respecting an establishment of religion.

SECTION 2. The North Carolina General Assembly does not recognize federal court rulings which prohibit and otherwise regulate the State of North Carolina, its public schools, or any political subdivisions of the State from making laws respecting an establishment of religion.

This is your basic "states' rights" argument: that the sovereignty of states, as outlined by the foundations of our government, allows them autonomy from any parts of the federal government they don't want a part of (while maintaining access to all the parts they do want - hmm...). In this case, they're tired of the oppressive federal government lording its foundational documents over the right of theocrats to practice their religion to its full extent.

We've seen this before, too, applied to another divisive issue: LGBT equality. The former flagship Libertarian Ron Paul would frequently fall back on the argument that marriage equality was an issue to be determined state by state. Ignoring the logistical nightmare alone that comes with the revocation of privileges and rights by merely happening to be in the wrong state, this is a smoke screen argument. The likes of Ron Paul don't want same-sex equality - they want to fragment the fight. Instead of fighting one big, very publicly-visible battle in D.C. (i.e., DOMA and the Supreme Court), they want to force the fight to 50 (or more) small fights - to try and kill the LGBT equality movement by a thousand cuts (and leverage the Bible belt, where it's significantly easier to discriminate against people who don't fit the white, male, heterosexual Christian archetype).

We see something similar here; people like Carl Ford and Harry Warren here want to keep their religion being pushed and promoted by the government. Realizing that they can't win the federal battle, they'll cry out "federal tyranny" and try their damnedest to keep the fight going in smaller districts of the states that they hold more sway over (spheres of influence). Thankfully, the likes of Thomas Jefferson were about 200 years ahead of them.

Hell, it's not even really that new. Historical revisionists want to paint the secession by the southern states as being over "states' rights", ignoring that the division was a complaint over the ability of the federal government to determine if a non-white person was still human after they crossed state lines (SPOILER: they are!). They don't like the fact that their Confederate flags that they proudly wave and paint on the back of their cars is a symbol of racism, so they want to try and re-frame history in a different context that paints them as more of the "underdog".

The point to take away, then, is that, whenever someone says something is a "states' rights" or a "federal tyranny" issue, be very skeptical of their claim. While there are definitely tasks that can and should be delegated to governments beneath the federal government (can you imagine the federal government managing every single road in all 50 states? Yeesh - even the states themselves delegate those tasks to the cities), in issues that are even remotely controversial, it's rarely ever a states' right issue - they just don't like facing the reality that they're a homophobe, a theocrat, or a racist, and try to wrap it in a blanket that resonates better with our historical origins as a country.

Don't buy it.

I Know How Much It Sucks When a Girl Tells You "No"

In the ongoing conversations raising awareness of rape, rape culture, and rape apologetics in our culture, I think there's a story that doesn't get told as often as it should: what it feels like to be the guy who's told "no". Well, allow me to say:

I have been that guy.

It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. A girl and I went on a date (maybe our second or third date?) and we retired for the evening to my place. We watched a movie for a bit, but things quickly moved away from the movie into making out. We proceeded from the living room to my bedroom and onto my bed. Pulses were racing, hearts were beating, and I made a move to take things to the next level. She put the brakes full-on and told me, "No, I'm not that kind of girl," and asked me to take her back to her apartment (as I had been her chauffeur for the evening). You know what I did?

I took her back to her apartment and apologized.

It's very easy to put that sentence together, and I think it gives the appearance of a friendly handshake, a wishing of a good night, and then a parting of ways. As the old adage goes: this is easier said than done. I don't mention the difficulty in an attempt to ever justify a refusal to accept "no", but to try and prepare people who will be told "no" with an idea of what to expect. Being in that situation is unpleasant for both people - a fact that, when focusing on the person put into the position of saying "no", doesn't get communicated very well. What I felt that night probably doesn't match in any near way in magnitude the strength and volume of the feelings that she felt in the situation, but my own feelings weren't negligible in their strength - and neither will yours be in such an event.

Not a vehicle known for its stopping power

First was the stopping of the making out. Most people (if not all) would agree there's a certain momentum in a sexual situation. Stopping hard like we did felt akin to trying to stop a speeding locomotive by hitting it head-on with a Ford Pinto: there was more than one part of me screaming for sex, and those hormones are powerful, raging things. I don't say this to try and place any blame on her or shift any responsibility off of myself - she in no way owed me anything - but to illustrate how it's not some Vulcan-esque rational decision to stop ("Oh, well, then, let us immediately cease our activities"). There were a lot of urges that were competing for my attention at the time, and they didn't all quite urge me toward the same goal. This in no way excuses anything - she said "no", and, I'm glad to say, I stopped - but, again, I hope to help prepare someone for the internal pressures that they'll have to deal with in this situation.

On top of that was the feeling of total embarrassment and shame. I would have expected some sexual frustration at being told "no", but the overriding feeling I felt was raw shame. I had very obviously put her into a situation where she was not comfortable, and I felt really terrible about it. Again: I'm glad to say I stopped, but I felt really ashamed to have taken it to the point where she had to say "no". I still can't imagine what she must have been feeling when she said "no", but I am glad that she did.

The drive back to her apartment was no more than ten minutes, but they were the most quiet and awkward ten minutes of my life. If I recall correctly, I apologized to her on the car ride back. In hindsight, I kind of wished I had apologized to her closer to the time of her saying "no", but I think I was too preoccupied with the boiling mass of feelings I was experiencing as a result of what had happened.

The apology was hard - not out of any sense of pride or feelings of self-righteous indignation, but because I felt so bad about putting her in the situation, I was worried that saying anything to her would only make the situation worse, even if it was "I'm sorry". There's something almost comical about the fact that the reason I wanted to apologize almost kept me from apologizing. However, I did apologize to her, and she accepted my apology. I dropped her off at her apartment, and we awkwardly parted ways for the evening.

As weird as it may sound, we went on to date for many more times and remain friends to this day (at least, when we last spoke, we were friends - we've naturally drifted apart due to geographical distance). The lesson, there, to take away isn't "everything will be okay afterward", but more of "I consider myself very fortunate to being forgiven" (and so should you, if that is your situation). I hope that, equally, for anyone who might feel pressured to not say "no" because they're worried about losing someone they care about can learn this: if the person you're telling "no" truly cares about you, they'll stop and likely feel what I've described above (which includes a complete lack of animosity toward you).

I tell this story because I think too many people find refuge in the idea of "once you get going, you can't stop the sexual engine", mixed with "oh, she shouldn't have said 'no' because she drew up his expectations". I've been on the receiving side of "no", and I can tell you: it's fully possible to stop when she says "no". You're in control of yourself, and you're responsible for yourself; however unpleasant the feelings might be to stop, those feelings pale in comparison to what she's going through and what she will go through if you ignore her. Bear that in mind, chief among all other things, when she says "no".