I have this peep who may or may not be named Abigail (which is a beautiful name) who likes to write to me and chat about hot pink storage bins and the nature of sexual politics in the Catholic church as represented in South America. This is the thing I like about her the most: She is never boring. She is also delightfully willing to disagree (without having to get the last word in), and very respectful of my time and privacy.
Which is much more than I can say of my anti-peep (LOL!) who may or may not be named Torrance (which is an in-joke) who likes to call my cell and leave long, breathy messages that always end in “Thinking of you, Angel.” Which is scary because Torrance doesn’t know me by that name and doesn’t know about this blog.
Which is why, after several weeks of serious sermons, I have a slightly more light-hearted one for ya’all ;)
Torrance called on Saturday night. Just had to take me to dinner on Sunday. Had decided that gender or sexuality or race (!!!) had kept us apart (I guess we’re soulmates according to a widget on MySpace) and so Torrance had found me a better match and I just had to meet him... or post a comment on 149 YouTubes in the next twenty minutes of die in three days.
VULGAR ASIDE (skip this paragraph, babygrrl): For real, there is a special circle of Hell for viral pranksters. No joke. They prey on the insincerities of young, naïve kids and feed their superstitions... perhaps driving the sales of tiny little horoscope scrolls, and driving kids to claim that “the voices made me do it.” This circle is right beside the circles for rapists, the inventor of artificial banana flavoring, drug lords, and sixteen year old phobics who post “I’m going to hunt down and kill you, faggot!!!” on the YouTubes of young gay men dancing to Janet Jackson songs. Jenn and I have decided that an eternity of nut shots await all of these charming individuals.
Back to my reality:
So after spending an hour or so writing to Abigail about sex and human superiority and how our two (delightfully different) religions view these issues, I had a lot on my mind as I wove my humming Kawi (that means Kawasaki, Erik) through LA Sunday traffic. I’d driven a long way to be amused. And as it turned out, it was worth it.
I got to the restaurant and was met by the million gigawatt smile of Torrance and the trillion gigawatt golden silk shirt of “He Who Must Be Met.” Over Sprite (I couldn’t help myself), Torrance regaled us both with all the things we had in common. These included religion, race, and the fact that we’re both homo sapiens. Then, PTL (I’m not joking), Torrance spotted a director more important than dinner and we were left alone.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello,” I answered.
“I’m gay,” he said.
“No kidding.” I answered.
“Why did Torrance set this up?” he asked.
I smiled. “Because Torrance has team spirit.”
We both laughed and from that laughter grew a conversation about sex and superiority, and an evening so enjoyable we exchanged emails and handles, and admitted to being disappointed that we were on opposite sides of the fence... or the same side... or whatever :D
Now, my readers – across a dozen or more religions – we may disagree on lots of stuff this week but, like Abigail (who may really be named Francine), we’re just gonna be cool with that because trust me, honeys, I don’t agree with 80% of what you say to me ;) It takes all kinds to float this boat called Earth; A homogenized glass of milk might be safer but is doesn’t taste nearly as good as a cup of fresh-on-the-farm cream.
“I’m not a vegetarian because I love animals. I’m a vegetarian because I hate plants.” And I spew Sprite into my napkin, experiencing the sensation of carbonated nostrils not for the first time in my life. I have a fleeting thought of my publisher quoting my blog as an example of beautiful, powerful writing... and I wonder if she’ll ever forgive me for this week. I make a note to send flowers Monday morning.
The Bible says that man is the ruler of the beasts. That man is made in God’s image and likeness. This is widely accepted among various denominations as fact. We rule! Yay us! Humans first! Everything else is just tasty! (Support P.E.T.A.: People Eating Tasty Animals) But among New Testament Christians we don’t really jibe with this. We rule “over” animals as God rules over us. We are meant to be guardian, savior and friend. We are meant to pass judgment (because we’re kinda the species in charge... see later in the blog for why and how) and make wise decisions.
Just as a little bit of an artist – eyes, nose, jaw line -- works its way into her portraits of others, a little bit of God is in everything around us. Our existence is trees and shells and star clusters, and genomes, and rocks and pigs, and cosmic strings with names that may or may not be George. The cosmos is one enormous fractal – from a drop of blood to a galaxy – and God is one big ole Mandelbrot set.
So, you see, we’re all made in His image. As a Mormon might look to their living Prophet, or a Catholic might look to their Pope, a New Testament Christian will look to nature to guide us. Because, as I have said time and time again, the Bible (with the exception of those nifty and very-relevant ten juicy commandments) was written by the hand of man, filtered through the mind of man, and translated over lots and lots of time. But nature is made by God’s hand and all things – from ants to event horizons – are “Living Scripture” (to borrow from the Terrapyres) left behind by God for us to understand Him. Sure, sure, when we didn’t get it, He sent Christ, but still, the whole darn cosmos is made in His image and aren’t we lucky to have Him all around us!
Like, check it out:
Human beings share 98% of their gene sequence with chimpanzees. Yep. Think that’s amazing? Not really (more later). But for now, let’s pretend it’s mind-blowing incredible. I mean, OMGosh! 98%?! No way! What, then, sets us apart from the furry little tree swingers?
When I asked nineteen random chatters on IMVU (“Someone wants to chat!”) what sets us apart from chimps, they rattle off:
Humans are empathic to one another.
Humans play.
Humans make deals.
Humans oppress.
Humans have language.
Humans have culture and society.
Humans make and use tools.
But not a single one of these is a true difference! Chimps match Humans point for point on this list. Ask any primatologist -- especially lately with Jill Pruetz’ spear-making, bush baby hunting chimparoonies – and they’ll tell you, you’re an idiot. Chimps have empathy. They play. They make deals (like meat for sex... PTL for Oscar Meyer). They oppress and have complex language (even take to ours, if taught). They have cultural and societal rules. They make tools to hunt.
Does that mean that chimps are moving up some kind of golden evolutionary ladder? No... it just means we share a heck of a lot of genes. That we come from the same source code, baby. We share a programmer.
One of the best answers I got was from a friend of mine who is married to a woman who is a closeted conceptual mathematician. These are the type of people who think in numbers and equations and whose journals look like a cross between accounting tape and football strategy. My friend (who admits to not be able to balance a check book) is very brave to have committed to this union LOL!
“What sets us apart from the chimps?” I asked my friend.
“Mathematics,” was the instant reply.
Hm. *shivers* Can’t really argue that, now can we? Theoretical mathematics especially. Because from there we can leap to the other differences: make fire; track time; make permanent records of art; gather knowledge. Observe the natural world and make leaps both large and small – cockburrs have hooked ends... invention of Velcro; light bends... space bends.
But here’s the kicker: We may be in charge. With that 2% of difference that God gave us, that exciting place where the ability to comprehend mathematics resides and turns us into a ruling class (and, to be frank, turns some of us on), we may rule. But we’re not that darn unique. Because we share 80% of a gene sequence with *mice* and maybe 30% with... wait for it... lettuce.
:)
No, that’s not a joke. Let me say it again: Lettuce.
So God made us, and lettuce, in His image. But, admittedly, we “look” a little more like Him than Romaine and a lot more than Iceberg. But when you’re next ready to slap down the glue trap in the corner of the pantry you might want to pick up a pen and paper first and jot down that list of why mouseykins is so less “human.”
You might be wondering right about now when the “sex” part of the title comes into play. I mean, if you arrived here via Google, you’re 50% more likely to be making a click-through for sex than for, say, “God as a great big fractal.”
Well, wait no longer, because as dessert of chocolate cream pie arrived and we both dissolved into moans of ecstasy, the conversation did indeed turn to sex even though the only seed I was thinking of was a Theobrama cacao seed ;P
I pitched an idea from my friend Abigail (or Francine but not George), who wrote to me this week: “Oh, sex was definitely intended for pleasure. I think that it's a myth (a very, very dangerous one), that sex should only be used to create children. I think God created sex for the pleasure of enjoyment, and that he added it to the idea of procreation as a bonus, so that when Adam and Eve (in particular) were fulfilling his commandment to be fruitful and multiply, they would be able to intensely enjoy the relationship God had given them.” My sweet conservative friend went one to say, “I think so many ideas about family life, homes, sex, marriage, and most of all love have been distorted by peoples' view of those things, instead of realizing the way they were intended to be from the beginning.”
My dinner buddy blinked his eyes and said, “If she’s your conservative friend, what are your liberal friends like?”
Score! You see? Breaking stereotypes needs to happen all over the place! Breaking stereotypes isn’t just about showing the world that a chick can love motorcycles, or a boy can cry, or that a gamer grrl can write an entire blog based on messages at MySpace and a ill-fated blind date.
Because, you know, there are some things, like I’ve mentioned before, that Abigail and I disagree on. But when we break it down, baby, when we shake it down to these basic truths, we don’t disagree on a thing.
When two people -- who are joined together forever by their hearts and in the eyes of God -- make love, they are in fact reflecting the passion, openness and freedom of the spiritual relationship we all ought to have with Him. Sexual desire is a physical manifestation of our intense spiritual connection with God, our maker, the Great Programmer. The source code of all us binary bits and pieces. The connective tissue, the cosmic solar sail, darling, that moves us together -- here, now and into a future we can barely comprehend (and only remember in nonlinear dreams) no matter how much Charles Stross we read or how many classes in Hebrew and Greek we take.
We can’t really disagree all too much, Abigail, Erik, Launa, Cris... Buddy, Alyson... even Torrance. We can’t disagree too deeply because once we get past that first 2%, we’re all pretty much the same.
Shall we trade our superiority for unity? Too hokey-pokey? But that’s exactly what we’ve done with “Mardi Gras 3000,” right? ;)
E.J. <--- taking her cues from Christ
