Archives for posts with tag: LGBT

We all know what words mean, right? They mean whatever it says next to them in the dictionary. This definition is agreed upon by professional dictionary writers which must be the objective truth, because, as we all know, there is never any debate, disagreement, or human error within academic bodies. The divine wisdom of these truth-holders means that the dictionary definition is more infallible than the Pope. Dictionary writers are ordained by God to give the final decree on language, and that’s why language is static and unchanging.

Except words are just the socially agreed upon tags that we attribute to concepts. Like a “river” for instance, is still called a river whether it floods, dries out to a trickle, is polluted to the point where the H2O is barely detectable within it, or whether it changes course entirely. The make-up of a thing barely impacts what we call it, unless we possess an alternative concept like that of a canal, in which case a river just needs some specific minor changes (like some walls and human direction), and voila! It’s no longer a river. Or if it remained a trickle for too long, we might start calling it a stream because we have a word for that concept too. We might use adjectives to convey the connection between multiple concepts, a “flooded” “river” is still not a “lake.” Our history with a concept will alter our viewpoints as well. An old timer who remembers the stream when it once was a river might still have an understanding of it as a river, while a newcomer might think the old timer is simply delusional. A stream is a stream!


Until enough people decide that it means “figuratively“, and then it means “figuratively,” and there is literally nothing you can do about it.

This brings us to language as it is applied within the LGBT community. Wouldn’t you know it, there just so happens to be a debate around the definition of words: like marriage! If you believe that “marriage” is defined as being between a man and a woman, then gay marriage becomes a nonsensical concept. A triangle is defined as having three sides, and along comes these degenerates who think that it can have four? Linguist Willard Quine tells us that human language in a community is like a collection of sculpted plants. Even if they all look the same on the outside, the branches and twigs on the inside that make up the sculpture will be different in every instance. How we learn our language shapes our understanding of that language, and even if we have a pragmatic functionality that allows us to get by in day to day conversation, those differences can create problems.

If marriage is defined not as between a man and a woman, but instead as being a loving relationship between two people that is recognized as legitimate by its having legal validation, then not only is gay marriage entirely reasonable, it is positively oppressive for them not to be able to access it. Of course, this definition eliminates polyamorous relationships from being recognized as legitimate, as well as defining legitimacy as something that the state applies through legal policy. Do I really need the government to tell me that my love is real???? How we define things has real world social implications beyond just conversational understanding.


I asked him, “when?” and he told me, “After the midterm elections, baby. I promise!”

When I have a concept, and you have a concept, and we use the same word to describe both our contradictory concepts, then yeah, there are going to be problems. This can be solved by either changing the socially accepted definition of the word, which involves changing society around the word, or it involves inventing a new word (like “canal”) to accommodate the minor changes in concept. I have actually heard an argument saying that gays should have the same legal relational rights as straights, but that their relationships should just be called something else. Unfortunately, the history of a concept and its legitimacy can’t just be erased like that. If there was “married” and “gay married,” you can guess it would follow the same “separate but equal” treatment of water fountains. There are certainly instances where new terms are required for new concepts (it is unlikely there was any controversy when the term “canal” was introduced), but when it comes to forcing whole categories of people into a term they never agreed to, then you’re creating bigger problems than semantics.

Another perfect example is gender. What is a “woman”? Is a woman someone who was born with the XX chromosome? Is a woman someone who looks and behaves like a woman? Is a woman someone who feels like a woman, regardless of how she was born or how she looks and behaves? Two people can be talking about women and may never discover that their definitions are incompatible. Branches within a sculpted plant, remember. How we define “woman”, however, is going to have a distinct social impact on transgendered human beings. Cisgender, the term, was coined only recently because there was seen a need for a new concept. For those who believe that gender is related to birth sex, the term is unnecessary, or even offensive because they do not see the need for a conceptual distinction. This shows the difficulty of introducing new terms because all of society needs to accept the distinction.


I’m sorry, but this is a RIVER because even if you dress it up, it’s still made up of H2O! Facts don’t care about your feelings, libtards.

What is a woman? We could always have a distinction between “woman” and “transwoman,” right? Who cares? We’re just hashing out concepts, and in the end, the definition doesn’t really matter all that much because human society can just adapt. The problem is that there are casualties to this debate. Transgender people are dying while this linguistic nitpicking rages on. Why don’t we choose a definition where nobody gets hurt?

They’re just words, folks. Remember: sticks and stones may break my bones, but words are the foundation of my ideological system, and any fluctuation in their social acceptance means that that ideological system is in peril. Meanwhile, others are enduring sticks and stones, so maybe hurry the fuck up with your existential crisis, k?

Pride is a canonically sinful act, yet this must be understood in the context of a time when passivity and conformity were considered virtues. Pride is no sin. Arrogance is the destructive assumption that, “I am better!” whereas pride is a pure, “I am!” Pride is the act of looking at ourselves and celebrating who that person is, who that person can be. It is acknowledging the beauty of our differences, as history has proven that pride cannot exist in conformity.

With difference, however, comes fear. With fear comes hate, and violence. But rather than cower or be shamed, pride rises against it. Pride exists in defiance, as a challenge to those who, out of their fear, seek to belittle or degrade those beautiful differences in which pride thrives. To be proud is to stand up no matter the number of times we are knocked down.

Pride demands the courage to be different. Pride demands the integrity to be the best possible version of ourselves we can muster. Pride demands the honesty to bare our genuine souls to the world. All these attributes are the most admirable qualities a human being can embody, and it these aspects of ourselves that we honour.

To tell others to be proud is to empower authenticity in a world overrun by self-doubt and humiliation. It asks that you celebrate yourself, that you celebrate your community. Celebrate what separates you from your neighbour, and celebrate what separates your neighbour from you. So be brave. Be true. Be proud.

While I was in India, one of the first people I met was a big, gay Kiwi named John. John was born and raised Catholic, and was actually on his way to becoming a priest before he became fed up with the Catholic Church and quit. His reasons were that he disliked the preaching of poverty and charity, while the Church wallowed in obscene amounts of wealth. Him being gay didn’t even enter into it, which struck me as surprising.

So we talked a whole bunch about religion and what it means to us, and our sexuality and what it means to us. I asked him about how he maintained his faith in God, considering he was gay and disillusioned with religion. He answered my question with a question of his own. How would I feel if he railed me in the bum right now? I told him that I probably wouldn’t appreciate it. He asked me if I would still be straight after the amazingly homoerotic time that he would surely show me, and I said yes, I was confident that I would still be straight, if a little shaken up. He said to me, same thing with faith. Anything can happen to you, but your faith never leaves you. It is simply a part of you.

This struck me as a very interesting idea despite its… unorthodox delivery, and I thought about it over the rest of the day, long after John and I had parted ways. I decided I didn’t actually agree with him. You can lose faith, and you can also gain it. It’s not the easiest thing in the world to do, but it does happen every now and then (Saul becoming Paul, for one biblical example). However, your sexuality never changes. No matter how many times big, gay John might swab the inside of my rectum, I would always remain straight. This led me to conclude that our sexuality is a stronger part of our identity than our spirituality.

This seemed significant to me, and I thought about it some more and realized something else. Despite the magnitude of importance that your sexuality represents towards your identity, you can repress it. You can fake not being the one, impermeable thing about yourself. Gay people will hide who they are, even marry heterosexually, out of fear of exposure. You can’t do that with faith. Faith needs to be expressed. If you think that maybe this has something to do with the lingering stigma that remains with homosexuality compared to the acceptance of most religions (the extent of that stigma being dependent on your location, obviously), think of the Jews who continued to practice even when facing the horrors of the concentration camps.

This might have something to do with individual versus communal identity; for example, your sexuality is yours and yours alone, whereas your faith is typically part of a larger group. Under duress, groups tend to bond together to face the storm under a unified front. One person alone standing against an oncoming tide is much more likely to find some way to avoid it.

Would a stronger LGBT community help? It’s hard to say. Sexuality isn’t really as communally bonding as faith. If a group got together every week to celebrate their sexuality, there’s really only one genuine way to do that. As an alternative, they might discuss worldly affairs or how to solve the crises that affect them, but that’s closer to activism than it is to community. Another reason I don’t believe that sexuality is as communal as spirituality is because the ultimate goal of the LGBT movement isn’t a gay community, it’s normalcy. Heterosexuals don’t have a community, we just are. Maybe I’m wrong since I am not privy to the meetings, but that is the goal of the LGBT rights movement, not forming a group.

Even if I am wrong, in its current state, the LGBT community does not extend to schools, sports teams, churches, etc. where it would need to in order for those suffering to feel as though they are part of a group, rather than desperately facing off against the world, alone.

Post-script: Obviously in a world where there is no oppression of sexuality or religion, then there would be no need to repress either one. My observation is that in a world where oppression of both exists, it is easier to repress sexuality than it is to repress religion.