“The reason why I refuse to take existentialism as just another French fashion or historical curiosity is that I think it has something very important to offer us for the new century. I’m afraid we’re losing the real virtues of living life passionately, sense of taking responsibility for who you are, the ability to make something of yourself and feeling good about life. Existentialism is often discussed as if it’s a philosophy of despair. But I think the truth is just the opposite. Sartre once interviewed said he never really felt a day of despair in his life. But one thing that comes out from reading these guys is not a sense of anguish about life so much as a real kind of exuberance of feeling on top of it. It’s like your life is yours to create. I’ve read the postmodernists with some interest, even admiration. But when I read them, I always have this awful nagging feeling that something absolutely essential is getting left out. The more that you talk about a person as a social construction or as a confluence of forces or as fragmented or marginalized, what you do is you open up a whole new world of excuses. And when Sartre talks about responsibility, he’s not talking about something abstract. He’s not talking about the kind of self or soul that theologians would argue about. It’s something very concrete. It’s you and me talking. Making decisions. Doing things and taking the consequences. It might be true that there are six billion people in the world and counting. Nevertheless, what you do makes a difference. It makes a difference, first of all, in material terms. Makes a difference to other people and it sets an example. In short, I think the message here is that we should never simply write ourselves off and see ourselves as the victim of various forces. It’s always our decision who we are.”—My favorite monologue from Waking Life. Philosophy professor Robert Solomon, at the University of Texas at Austin
At the dances I was one of the most untiring and gayest. One evening a cousin of Sasha, a young boy, took me aside. With a grave face, as if he were about to announce the death of a dear comrade, he whispered to me that it did not behoove an agitator to dance. Certainly not with such reckless abandon, anyway. It was undignified for one who was on the way to become a force in the anarchist movement. My frivolity would only hurt the Cause.
I grew furious at the impudent interference of the boy. I told him to mind his own business. I was tired of having the Cause constantly thrown into my face. I did not believe that a Cause which stood for a beautiful ideal, for anarchism, for release and freedom from convention and prejudice, should demand the denial of life and joy. I insisted that our Cause could not expect me to become a nun and that the movement would not be turned into a cloister. If it meant that, I did not want it. “I want freedom, the right to self-expression, everybody’s right to beautiful, radiant things.” Anarchism meant that to me, and I would live it in spite of the whole world — prisons, persecution, everything. Yes, even in spite of the condemnation of my own closest comrades I would live my beautiful ideal.
The quote otherwise known as “A Revolution without Dancing is a Revolution not worth Having.”
“Do not all theists insist that there can be no morality, no justice, honesty or fidelity without the belief in a Divine Power? Based upon fear and hope, such morality has always been a vile product, imbued partly with self-righteousness, partly with hypocrisy.”—Emma Goldman
Joseph Gordon-Levitt, long-rumored to be joining his Inception brethren in The Dark Knight Rises, will appear in director Christopher Nolan’s third Batman film. But a source close to the situation says that recent reports that Gordon-Levitt will play Alberto Falcone (a.k.a. the Holiday Killer) — the son of former mob kingpin, Carmine Falcone (Tom Wilkinson) — are incorrect. So, Batman fans: Begin the re-speculation now!
Look, I know it’s part of your—I don’t know—“mythology” or something, but really. I JUST NEED TO KNOW, OKAY. Put all those poor, speculating fanboys out of their misery.
(Also, I really hope it’s Alberto Falcone, just because COME ON. It would be worth it just for the Rocknrolla connection.)
I go to a religious school. Someone said that a “gay doctor” is going to go to their religion class. I almost said, “Impossible. Catholics would never think of anything that cruel. But then again….” *checks totem* Damn. This level of ignorance is real.
Ah. That’s what I get for growing up Catholic in the south. Oh well. At least I don’t have to deal with such offensive idiotic homophobia until next year’s religion class.
So instead, I will tell you to go to the Logo website and watch the latest episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race. Title being “Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Style.”
At first, I was thinking, wow, what’s with the ra ra patriotism? And then there was the challenge. Each of the queens had to make a tape for the troops. And I was thinking, oh my god, I really want someone to do that for my brother, when he’s overseas. I want some fabulous, over-the-top drag queen to send my brother a message thanking him for his service and—in one incredible instance—hoping his boyfriend come home safely. His boyfriend, who could be in my brother’s unit, or know him somehow.
I want him to hear that, for every argument we had where he defended Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. I want him to hear that, for every time he’s used the f-word. For every time he’s used “gay” as a synonym for stupid. For every time he’s made a homophobic comment or defended DOMA. I want him to know that for every time he does those things, there’s some flamboyant, beautiful drag queen hoping he’ll get home safe.
“Wow, you’re in here a lot,” he says, and oh christ there it is again. How the fuck someone with that accent ended up— okay, how the fuck someone with those hips and that hair and that smile ended up breathing is beyond you, but you? You take what you can get, okay.
Okay, one, Katie you’re awesome.
Two, I just got home from work, thank you for making the eight hours I spent actually bagging groceries seem way more interesting than it really is.
Three, if I ever get complimented on my rainbow bracelet at work, I will die on the spot.
Four, on that note, I think there should be a secret society of LGBT Grocery Workers. Or something with a cooler sounding name. The Only Bisexual at Publix, as I refer to a friend of mine, thinks we should have a secret handshake.
My sister woke up this morning so concerned with what was going on in japan, which led to this conversation.
Me:Why are you up so early?
Her:What in the world? Did you not hear about the tsunami?
Me:I did. I know. It's horrible.
Her:Heck yes it is. We need to buy sushi as soon as the sushi place opens.
Her:Oh my goodness. Do i need to explain everything for you?
Me:Yeah. I don't understand why we need to buy sushi?
Her:It's because when you buy something japanese the money goes to japan. or could I send my piggy bank to someone in japan? they need it more then I do. I'll even send them my floaties. I don't need any of it. Why did this happen to japan? they never did anything wrong.
Me:That's just the way mother nature works.
Her:Well where's father nature? I'm sure he's gonna be mad at mother nature. She's hurting her kids. She's a mean mom.
Me:She's not really a mom, thats just what people call it.
Her:Whatever. Whoever this nature lady is, is a pain in the butt. She's always hurting people. Tell her go to mars, and nature herself over there.
So lately I’ve been a little sad because my accomplishments are not up to par with what is expected of me. THEN OUT OF NOWHERE: Two of my friends are making up a Reagan/Gorbachev bromance story. The poster was epic. The tagline is even better. THIS MADE MY…
YOU WILL SELL THOSE POSTERS ON AMAZON. AND YOU WILL GIVE ME A FREE ONE. IT’S IMPERATIVE.
And I love thou too, Nicole. Especially for promising that you will notice if the Witness Protection Agency replaces me with a Korean person.
Alwyn swears she’ll have them up on tumblr tonight. And by that, I mean 4 am.
So lately I’ve been a little sad because my accomplishments are not up to par with what is expected of me. THEN OUT OF NOWHERE: Two of my friends are making up a Reagan/Gorbachev bromance story. The poster was epic. The tagline is even better. THIS MADE MY DAY 100000000000000000000000000000000x BETTER OUT OF PURE HILARIOUSNESS.
Slash, or fanfiction including a sexual relationship between two male characters, began with female Star Trek fans noticing that Spock and Kirk kind of had a thing. Which let’s admit, they did. Come on, that massage scene. Goddam.