God watches you while you have sex; put on a show

I would not have been able to live in the Middle Ages—as far as their views of sexuality went. Tight restrictions based on God’s word are just not my style. I would probably be some sort of underground homosexual court jester fire juggler wandering minstrel-- or something of the sort. It wouldn’t take long for me to be caught and killed, but the going would be fun while it lasted.

In medieval times, heterosexuality was unmistakably the norm (as it has always been in every society)—but moreover, heterosexuality was defined as between married men and women and no one else. Sex occurred in other instances, but not under God’s ever-watchful approval.

Thomas Aquinas’ very very Christian view of sexuality, although. I find it strange the God would have so much interest in our sex lives—enough to categorize our sexual acts by sinfulness; however, as the sexual ambassador of God, Thomas Aquinas did just that and enumerated sexual misdemeanors in an enlightening way. The view was based on the idea that procreation is the goal of sexual intercourse; this lead to a shocking concept: that rape of a woman (or rape of one’s daughter) is less sinful than bestiality, sodomy, masturbation, and oral sex. This is due to the simple fact that rape could potentially lead to a bumbling baby. I suppose that it’s nice Aquinas even had the decency to put rape in the list. However much we are trained to believe the Medieval ages are idyllic castles, princes, knights, and dragons, there’s a lot more disturbing thigns that goes on behind the scenes; thus it makes sense such a sexually repressed age be labeled the “Dark Ages” of sexuality.

Roar of the 20s--finally we're sort of okay with sex

The roaring twenties sound like a fantastic time to be living. An age of sexual innocence and exploration, the twenties is where it was at. Especially the lack of stigma, watchful eye, or malevolence against homosexuality: Gay Balls were thrown with great extravagance and homosexuality was not as much as an issue as it even is today. I think if there were one decade I would like to live in (besides this one—I love the new millennium!), it would definitely be the twenties. I would be some fantastic flapper, wear short dresses, attend petting parties, and be an all around new American woman (this is considering the fact that were I to live in another decade, I could be another biological sex).

There was a little bit of sexual detestation, as displayed by the Hayes code. The Hayes code was a list of do’s and don’ts for the motion picture industry: married people couldn’t be shown sleeping in the same bed and the origin of where babies come from couldn’t be revealed. I remember that question being very elusive when I was younger: answers usually consisted of a cartoon bird who delivered children to parents, I suppose whenever the parents decided it was time. Even now we still feel the reverberations of the history of sexuality.

As we learn about the more modern view of sexuality, it’s very interesting to see how we have been affected today. It seems almost impossible to define sexuality today, as we have influential voices saying different things. Lady Gaga preached the Greco-Roman view of sex equating to power and a queer theory view of not defining orientation and appreciating its fluidity. At the same time, Taylor Swift preaches back to the Madonna-Slut complex, to virgin queen symbols of the Medieval age. Opinions are readily different and widespread. If there is one constant in today’s sexual society, it’s that everything is talked about: whether through jokes or sex education or the news or books or the internet (especially the internet). Information for every sort of obscure sexual idea can be obtained and no one is in the dark about where babies come from.

Now gods, stand up for bastards! My views of Victorian views of sex

It always seems that there is something wrong with sexuality through the course of time (I sort of exclude the Greco-Roman era in my mind because I appreciate the idea of sex being used as a form of power-mongering). In the Victorian age, many laws were created against illegitimacy. During the Industrial Revolution, the gap between the rich and poor was expanded and many women had to go into prostitution to stay alive (at one point there were 60,000 prostitutes). Increased population growth and unmanageable crime didn’t seem to help the situation. So of course the government created extremely biased laws that disabled more women—especially women who had children out of wedlock. Bastard children were entirely the woman’s responsibility and were considered menaces to society.

If the situation wasn’t already unfair enough, men were granted forgiveness for sexual misdemeanors. The double standard of male heterosexuality existed then: this double standard is that if men have a lot of sex, he is considered a stud; however, if women have a lot of sex, she is considered a promiscuous slut. In Victorian England, men were excused for sexual lapses of judgment—these were termed “twilight moments”.

It’s very typical for heternormative Victorian England to label any sort of “outside” abnormal sexuality as “foreign”, but it’s just funny that they refer to the . That may have an influence on why homosexual males have such a flamboyant and wild; then again, that may just be a French stereotype. However, I appreciate the development of the secret culture of the gay men: signals and indicators and Molly houses. Unsurprisingly enough, homosexual men were also lumped in with promiscuous women as the cause of economic and social decline.

NO MO? Queer theory and infinite possibilities

Preface: Essentially for all these journal entries I will go on about how I find all this information fascinating. I can talk about what I find more fascinating or less incredible, but basically the essay will feel like a fan girl’s letter to the Backstreet Boys (actually NSync, since they’re better). So I will try to be more creative with my responses and we’ll see how it works.

It is surprising the word gay didn’t become synonymous with homosexual until the late 30s—but then again, it’s surprising that the two words became synonymous at all. How is it that giddy happiness is equated to homosexuality, and then it is looked down upon ass sinful? It’s all due to the King George Bible. It’s interesting and depressing to see how powerful religion is on views of sexuality. And now much of society is heteronormative-beliving and gay bashing. Just today the Westboro Baptist Church (although an extreme example) protested the pass of the Gay Marriage bill in DC; I had a lot of friends who went and coutnerprotested with funny signs. But I would like to believe the more progressive, intellectual groups of society believe something closer to Queer theory.

I absolutely agree with queer theory. Were I not such a typical American Human being, obsessed with defining and describing, putting people and ideas into groups, then I would live my life free of labels. I feel if more people understood and applied queer theory—to not only sexuality and gender, but to every defined idea society, the world would be a more understanding place. Life wouldn’t be about hate because the goal would be to understand perspectives—and even then, there wouldn’t be definite perspectives: no “homosexual perspective” no “impoverished point of view”; instead there would be “Adam’s view of the world”, “Sydney’s point of view”. Each person would be a unique personality that would give rise to his or her (even though in a queer theory-abiding world, we wouldn’t have to define each other by such definite sex pronouns; such a revolution would really be in conflict with grammar, among other things) own creative ideas. A queer world is an unlimited world.

READ EVERYTHING THAT FOLLOWS OR DON'T

The following may or may not just be reaction papers I ripped from my Sex, Gender, and Culture class for filler for this blog here. Either enjoy or don't enjoy, the choice is your.

The Adventure First

"The Adventure Final", Angels and Airwaves

I wanna have the same last dream again
The one where I wake up and I'm alive
Just as the four walls close me within
My eyes are opened up with pure sunlight

I'm the first to know
My dearest friends
Even if your hope has burned with time
Anything that's dead shall be regrown
And your viscious pain, your warning sign
You will be fine

Hello, here I am
And here we go
Life's waiting to begin

Any type of love it will be shown
Like every single tree reach for the sky
If your gonna fall I'll let you know
That I will pick you up like you for I

I thought this thing life can't replace
Where everyone was working for this goal
Where all the children left without a trace
Only to come back as pure as gold
To recite this all

Hello, here I am
And here we go
Life's waiting to begin tonight [3x]

I cannot live
I can't breath
Unless you do this with me [6x]

Hello, here I am (You do this with me)
And here we go (Do this with me)
Life's waiting to begin [2x]
Life's waiting to begin

story of my life, pt 2

So, on a dark, stormy night—or was it morning? Midday? No I think it was at like 2:34 am, so it was either morning or night, you pick. As I was saying. So on a dark, stormy [night/morning] of a Monday…or was it a Tuesday? I feel like a lot of these early details could be explained by reading my baby book. As I was saying. On a dark, stormy [morning/night] of some day of some week on April 4^th, 1991, I was born. Son of Judy Berger and Ray Powers, the boy was to be known, forever and always, as Adam Berger Powers.

This is the oh-so dramatic beginning of my life. I warn you, it is verbose, thematically packed, silly, faux-intellectual, ridonkulous, indifferent, racy, despicable, and too meaningful to label with a definite set of adjectives (thus I stop here). Or maybe it’s just very…me. And that’s all. And that’s what I want it to be, for you. I may be inserting an essay or two that I’ve written outside of this session (i.e. creative writing class, English class, etc, etc…) it’s all very integral to my understanding—to your understanding I mean—or so I think. Thus here I am. If you’re lucky, you’ll get more facts and story than analysis and me just saying insolent, time wasting things like this. If not, well at least know I’ve tried.

So my first memory is a strange one. I’m not even sure it is my first memory, actually. I have a very terrible memory, to be sure, so a lot of my childhood is watched in my mind as a movie in fast, stop motion, claymation scene reels. This meaning that I think back to le past and see my life in periods where this or that may have occurred more than once—thus that period will be defined by said occurrence. For example: a lot of my childhood was marked by my mother scheduling events for me, such as soccer, baseball, art, etc. (I shall approach the subject matter fully when we get there). This period of time will thusly be associated with my mother controlling and scheduling and taking me places. As is life. I’m sure that doesn’t sound much different than most people, but you will see what I mean.

As I was saying, my first DSTINCNT memory isn’t exactly my first memory. I can remember periods of associated times before my first memory, but this is just the exact memory that I usually pick as my first when asked—and I’m not exactly sure why. The memory is of my sister’s birth (I’ll get to family trees later). I don’t exactly remember my mom being at all pregnant when I look back on it, but one day I was with her in the hospital and she may or may not have given birth. But I remember it was on or around easter day, thus we were being shoved full of bunnies and eggs and candy. I remember sitting on a ledge that was next to a window holding or being given this egg with a chick inside. The chick was one of those crafty ones: the torso was made out of this fuzz ball, the ones that you usually use for arts in crafts as a little kid to make monsters and assorted sculptures, but then realize as you get older that they’re not as aesthetically pleasing to the eye as most materials, and they just feel cool. Well then I was a kid so I didn’t mind the unaesthetic feel. But the torso was one of those puff balls—a yellow one—and it had these chicken-leg things glued on as legs. I don’t remember why I remember this so well.

So there you go, my first memory in so much detail you don’t know what to do with it. No but really. It doesn’t seem to mean anything. But maybe one could look at the symbolism of easter and chicks and births and new beginnings and beginnings of memory. Or maybe one could look at the wasted space. I thought I’d put that out there, just cuz. I know you already have a life story written out just in case you die, and maybe this could be my memoirs. Seemingly pointless and pointlessly seemless. As is life.

Eve Ensler says

Keep Austin Weird!

LEAFY FIENDS!

kid's corral filter

What's up, homslice?

In a pizza restraunt in Austin, TX. I can't wait until I'm stuck adrift in all the life that city has to offer, again.

queen hearts

interpublic group

unable to work on anything else.

Dearest internet,

you are currently the closest friend I have. I tell the most to you. I pour my artistic and emotional heart out to you. And you respond, in kind With more advice and stories and songs than I could ever receive. You are one of the funniest people I know. You can also be one of the cruelest, but there's yet some good in you.

For all of that, friend, I would like to thank you.

With all my procrastination and love,

Adam Danger Powers

She's a Handsome Woman

"Do you want to play a game?"

"Why not?" said the companion. Adam's secretive smile and mischievous tone would dissuade anyone else, but not him.

"Hokay, so: When we got on that shuttle, I don't know you" he said with a jester's smile. "We are going to sit on opposite sides of the bus, but close enough so that we can see each other." Adam sniffled like a kid who has a cold but is playing hide and seek with the other kids regardless. "I want you to notice me--as a stranger--from across the bus; and, of course, I'll notice you. But we're going to have to make this organic, so act coy, yet curious; sort of indifferent, but actually kind of interested. Be the role." He chuckled to himself as he said this, knowing the role and the motions all too well. "We'll have that whole I-look-at-you-while-you're-not-looking, and then you-look-at-me-while-I'm-not-looking thing going on. I want you to reenact the famed stick-eyes from across the bus scene with me."

The companion laughed incredulously, though he understood that Adam meant every word he said. "So we're basically replaying some cliche scene from a romantic comedy?"

"Well, sort of." he picked his words like he was giving a rousing Braveheart-esque inspirational speech. "I want to see if what we see in movies and read in books can be made real; it is all inspired by real life, right? I want to emulate--, no, not even emulate. I want to create and further the faint uncertainty, the questioning hesitation, the irrational fear, the giddy jitters, the movie magic. I don't want to live life like a movie; I want the movies to depict life as we live it." Adam finished, content with his response.

"Alright alright, I get it. What's happens next?"

"We are going to make this awkward romantic encounter last the whole bus ride. Eventually we will catch each other's eyes and smile--naturally, of course. And once we arrive at the metro stop," Adam paused for gramatic effect and respiratory purposes "well. I guess we'll see what happens from there."

"It's not the chase that I love, it's me following you"

Kick Drum Heart, the Avett Brothers