Dear Christ.

Sure, I'll laugh out loud.

You'll laugh out loud when you watch this trailer for the new series Only in a Woman's World.

Hm!

I'm reading transcripts from the DOMA debates, and, of course, I can't help seeing the parallels between Marvel's various registration acts and the DOMA debates.

I copy from the Senate Debates (09/10/1996, 104th Congress-2nd Session, Sen. Trent Lott R-MS speaking):

This is not prejudiced legislation. It is not mean-spirited or exclusionary. It is a preemptive measure to make sure that a handful of judges, in a single State, cannot impose an agenda upon the entire Nation.
The Defense of Marriage Act is not an attack upon anyone. It is, rather, a response to an attack upon the institution of marriage itself.
This matter has received so much attention in the national press, that everyone should know by now what the problem is and why we need to pass DOMA, as it is usually referred to.
The problem is the serious possibility--some say even the strong likelihood--that the State court system of Hawaii would recognize as a legal union, equivalent or identical to marriage, a living arrangement of two persons of the same sex.
If such a decision affected only Hawaii, we could leave it to the residents of Hawaii to either live with the consequences or exercise their political rights to change things. But a court decision would not be limited to just one State. It would raise threatening possibilities in other States because of article IV, section 1 of the Constitution.

Hm, sound familiar? I copy from X-Men (2000):

Senator Kelly: You're evading the real question. Three words: Are mutants dangerous?
Doctor Jean Grey: That's an unfair question, Senator Kelly. After all, the wrong person behind the wheel of a car can be dangerous.
Senator Kelly: Well, we do license people to drive.
Doctor Jean Grey: But not to live.

Maybe the parallel's a stretch, but, for me, it's there, as clear as a bullet. And I think Mr. Lott and Mr. Kelly would have similar kinds of difficulty specifically answering why they felt uniquely positioned to be legislating for the safety of all Americans.

The registration acts, unlike DOMA, stirred up some complications. According to proponents, it was to promote the "safety" of all those innocents. Yes, true. Provide the government with a list of potentially dangerous people and you just may be able to prevent the deaths of "innocents" across the country. But it's those words: "potentially" and "may." How many of those with superpowers turned out to be dangerous? In the comic books? I would imagine only those necessary to provide interesting stories.

I'm more interested in the thought of extrapolating out to consider a realistic world where people actually had special abilities: who would turn out to be dangerous? How could we prevent it? Would demanding that superpowered people stand guard over the innocents be a fair demand? Do these people function outside of the law-or should they conform to some sort of vigilante code (e.g., no killing)? How would these people be funded? How would these people be evaluated?

Various authors have weighed in, ranging from cock-eyed altruism to sinister mistrust. Funding: private fortunes, the government, or theft. Evaluation: volunteerism, recruitment via appealing to a universal notion of "humanity" (or..."mutantity"), brain washing, or kidnapping. Who's to say that any of these is more heroic or more villainous? For example, government funded brain washing of superpowered children to produce an army (ahem, ahem, Weapon X anyone?) that protected us against a new 9/11 would certainly gain a lot of support from those invested in national security (which, I imagine, isn't limited to right wing, neocon crazies). After all, The Watchmen's Dr. Manhattan (the only one with actual superpowers) was the US's shield against possible Soviet nuclear attack, and no one argued with that despite the fact that he and Silk Spectre were all but kept prisoner in a government facility.

A lot to consider.

The first step

So, I'm reading The Autobiography of Malcom X, and hope to post something intelligible on it soon. Who knows when...

Until then, I figured I would start with the most basic thing surrounding heroes/villains: superpowers. Seems simple enough, right? Let's hope that lays the groundwork for a better discussion.

Heroes

Heroes and Villains. I can't get my mind off of them lately. It probably has something to do with seeing Watchmen (good, but not for the faint of heart) and the first X-Men (lighter, but no less heavy if probed deeply) film back-to-back. Curiously, my thoughts, re: activisms, are also fairly relevant.

All my thoughts boil down to one thing: if you had extraordinary abilities (and, yes, even "abilities" that aren't really abilities, a la Batman), what would you do with them?

The sheer range of answers, I think, aborts a simple "hero" or "villain" dichotomy. Would all those invested in personal gain be necessarily interested in creating collateral damage? And what about those who would fight (so-called) criminals--what about the property destruction inevitably accumulated at the hands of "doin' good"?

Yet, inevitably, we construct a sharp division between "hero" and "villain," right? Perhaps because (as my undergraduate "upbringing" would have me believe) we need one to define the other? Certainly that must be true, 'cause heroes need somebody to fight as much as the villains do too.

I think I'm going to dedicate the next few posts to this topic. It's a lot to sort out, and I, of course, want it as linear as possible.

PS: Search "hero" on Google's image search. And then "villain." Notice anything?

Papers? Who wants those?

I enjoy social work school. I do! Rarely for the readings, but mostly for the thought candy distributed in class discussion. I credit others for challenging me and thereby expanding my awareness of other viewpoints, but, occasionally, the other students (and even professors) just piss me off. Again, still good, but...more emotional? But is anyone really surprised that I'm emotional?

Both my classes today did a great job outlining what constitutes effective activism. Joy, joy, joy! I'm always so freaking glad when someone else deigns to inform me what's the "effective" way to do anything. Of course, being the very liberal people that we social workers are, we believe that the most effective way to achieve change was to (A) achieve "buy-in" from a wide range of community members, workers, and even those opposed to an initiative and (B) legislate and enforce the change.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Maybe something's tickling your brain about either (A) who the heck outlined that this was the most effective avenue for change? or, perhaps, (B) what about all those protests I went to in college? Tried as I might (and, believe me, I am probably the worst person at holding back my opinions), I just couldn't let it go. Just couldn't. In Class 1, I raised my hand when asked to describe "other" forms of activism (great, Madame Professor, let's other these forms straight out the gate!) and I offered that radical, more "in-your-face" activism was effective.

But, wait! Apparently, that's just not effective. You close people off. Opponents and potential supports are just alienated. No will talk about anything and we'll all just run around smashing windows and throwing things at cops! OH NOES! THE AGONY! What shall I do with my well-laid out legislative agenda? Wipe my pretty bottom with it?

I hope I gave a valiant effort to expand our definition of activism by asking questions about how we measure "effectiveness" (according to whom?) and sharing personal experiences, but I doubt it. Mostly 'cause I was just mad--and when I get mad, I tend to just get sassy. The "it" of it, though (at least in my mind): radical activism (OK, let's pretend that's even close to an acceptable categorization) has a very needed place in the change continuum. Even if we just take them at face value: the grab people's attention. Sit-ins, rioting, speak outs, vandalism, standing in front of tanks, and even whipping out snarky comments to people who disagree with you in a confrontational way all GET SOMEONE STARTLED. Let's go from there, huh?

Activisms aren't required to make sense (hey, guys and gals, I'd bet some person, somewhere would look at a "progressive" policy agenda and say, "That doesn't make sense. Ho. Ho. Ho."). They're required (at least, I think) to get an issue public and, hopefully, make change the issue. Why, then, is there only one "effective" method of activism?

In Class 2, the professor was a little bolder. She directly asked: does anything think that there would be an issue for which you would engage in radical action? I was the only person who raised my hand. I hope (really, truly) that I'm not the only one who thinks that. I hope (perhaps in a fit of naivete) that, in fact, my fellow social workers would radically act in some situation. They just don't know it yet? Maybe?

Now: a paper to write and it's 8:34. Awesome.

Disclaimer's abound!: I always hesitate to write about things said in class (am I breaking some sort of confidentiality?), though I hope any one of my classmates would be able to stand up and be counted for her opinion. Also, keep in mind that while I advocate radical activism, I was the person who tried to keep Lambda's funding away from the Sex Worker's Art Show because I was afraid of the threat's made by WM's administration. I was overruled, called a "backstabber" and "betrayer to my community," and resigned my position as treasurer a week later.

I got nothin'

Oh my dear, sweet, holy baby JesusBuddhaAllah:

http://www.concealedcampus.org/

No words. None! Zip!

Wait, what?

I said I'd update, re: complicating Jindal. I don't think I will. Needless to say: My criticisms of Jindal are (and can be) countered by similar (and equally valid and comprehensible) critiques of Obama. I pose the question: what, then, makes it OK to hold up one and not the other?

Party faith? (I was never a Democrat)

Blind faith? (Hm, possibly)

Society faith? (Hm, doubtful)

I dunno. You?