Arian Foster came out this week as a non-believer to ESPN's Tim Keown as part of a campaign by the nonprofit group, Openly Secular.
I urge you to watch the video and read the accompanying article. You will learn a lot about the non religious, perception, and how we move forward.
It's an important conversation to have, but at the end of the day the American people wake up in a free country that affords us the right to believe in whatever the hell we want to believe. Do I wish we had more combative atheists who will push people to challenge their faith? Absolutely. Do we all have to fight the fight the same way? No. The mere fact that we are having a conversation about this, means that we're moving forward. It's not easy for nonbelievers to drop the chip from their shoulder. We're oppressed, discriminated against, hated, and hurt; but we're not the only ones. Everyone everywhere is fighting a battle. This is a pretty important one, but everyday we move closer and closer to an answer and a peaceful way to coexist.
I personally applaud Arian Foster, Openly Secular, Tim Keown, and ESPN for opening the dialogue.
Friday, August 7, 2015
Saturday, July 25, 2015
Let's Talk About Sex
Everyone's favorite subject, right? Well, as previously discussed I try to be open and receptive to pretty much anything.
Tonight my ladies and I went to see Magic Mike XXL. Damn. I mean, da-yum. Was the plot riveting and frought with realistic scenarios? No. Was the caliber of acting superb? Meh. There were some big names, and some beautiful people, but this was not a MENSA meeting by any stretch of the imagination. This was a movie meant to visually exploit otherwise talented actors, and entertain audiences with a benign plot.
So, why are we talking about this lackluster flick? We are talking about it, because the sexuality of women is finally being acknowledged in Hollywood. Because flawless men like Matt Bomer and Channing Tatum are willing to commit to a film that serves no other purpose than to give women (and some men) something purely sexual to entertain themselves.
I have lost count of the number of movies I have seen with my husband over the years that are riddled with gratuitous, scantily clad women just for scantily clad women's sake.
Much like 50 Shades of Grey (boo hiss somewhere else, haters! She's fucked up, he's fucked up. They're kinky, and in love, and they embrace the fuckedupness, move along) Hollywood has come a long way in producing films that have obvious actual themes to them that can attract men and women. No, we didn't see Christian Grey's penis, but we didn't see Matt or Channing's either, and we don't need to. Hollywood is learning a lot about women through the successes of these films and I anticipate more female friendly gratuitous sex in our future! What a great time to be alive!
Tonight my ladies and I went to see Magic Mike XXL. Damn. I mean, da-yum. Was the plot riveting and frought with realistic scenarios? No. Was the caliber of acting superb? Meh. There were some big names, and some beautiful people, but this was not a MENSA meeting by any stretch of the imagination. This was a movie meant to visually exploit otherwise talented actors, and entertain audiences with a benign plot.
So, why are we talking about this lackluster flick? We are talking about it, because the sexuality of women is finally being acknowledged in Hollywood. Because flawless men like Matt Bomer and Channing Tatum are willing to commit to a film that serves no other purpose than to give women (and some men) something purely sexual to entertain themselves.
I have lost count of the number of movies I have seen with my husband over the years that are riddled with gratuitous, scantily clad women just for scantily clad women's sake.
Much like 50 Shades of Grey (boo hiss somewhere else, haters! She's fucked up, he's fucked up. They're kinky, and in love, and they embrace the fuckedupness, move along) Hollywood has come a long way in producing films that have obvious actual themes to them that can attract men and women. No, we didn't see Christian Grey's penis, but we didn't see Matt or Channing's either, and we don't need to. Hollywood is learning a lot about women through the successes of these films and I anticipate more female friendly gratuitous sex in our future! What a great time to be alive!
Thursday, July 9, 2015
Bewbs
This week, the Huffington Post has a very interesting article titled, "Why So Many Straight Women Watch Lesbian Porn". Now, given that my mother rarely (if ever) reads my blog, I'm just going to assume that even if she reads this one - nothing here will surprise her. I'd also like to preface by saying that I write this from the perspective of a straight woman, who thinks penises are the shit, and that this is simply my take on the article and the thoughts that I had after reading it. You may proceed:
I find it odd that we need to question how it is that straight women are watching lesbian porn.
Aren't we the country that made Kim Kardashian and her gaggle of fake-tan relatives overnight millionaires (This all stared with a sex tape, remember?)?
Don't we splatter magazine covers with stick thin models who are pleading with us to buy what they're wearing because (photoshop aside) they're just so pretty?
Aren't we telling our young girls that, while 14 may be the national average size for an adult woman, that's just too damn fat and ugly?
When we set unrealistic body images on our youth (boys aren't immune, they're just not as targeted), is it any wonder that women start looking at one another differently?
And finally, here's the real talk - women are gorgeous! Seriously. Actually. We are imperfectly, perfectly, stunning! Now, I think there's a little part in all of us that can appreciate members of the same sex for their appeal, just like we do with their opposite sexed counterparts. What I don't understand, is why people in the media are shocked when research like this comes to light and you have to accept that people can appreciate one another in a sexual capacity without changing the sexuality that they commonly identify with.
Now, I personally have watched porn for a variety of reasons, but mostly I watch it to get ideas...mostly. The non-information gathering porn watching, has included lesbian porn if I'm being honest. I don't know if it's that girls know what they're doing to other girls (because, ya know, they're girls too!), or that I can relate to the sensations, I just think it's interesting. And effective. And isn't that porn's main job? I think that it's great that we live in a time where we can explore same sex intimacy, where we can wonder what sex is like with another wo(man) and see for ourselves.
Women are hot, and sexy as hell. There's something soft and beautiful about a woman's body that isn't typical of men. Men are muscular and angular, strong and solid (usually, historically). I just think that if we start complementing each other and acknowledge that there's something to be appreciated about one another, then we won't be shocked when we hear that women can find one another sexually appealing.
Finally, here is Ruby Rose. If you have not seen the most recent season of Orange is the New Black, then you must immediately - just for her. If you did see it and weren't turned on by her in the bathroom talking to Piper (male or female), then you are dead inside and your sex organs are faulty ;)
I find it odd that we need to question how it is that straight women are watching lesbian porn.
Aren't we the country that made Kim Kardashian and her gaggle of fake-tan relatives overnight millionaires (This all stared with a sex tape, remember?)?
Don't we splatter magazine covers with stick thin models who are pleading with us to buy what they're wearing because (photoshop aside) they're just so pretty?
Aren't we telling our young girls that, while 14 may be the national average size for an adult woman, that's just too damn fat and ugly?
When we set unrealistic body images on our youth (boys aren't immune, they're just not as targeted), is it any wonder that women start looking at one another differently?
And finally, here's the real talk - women are gorgeous! Seriously. Actually. We are imperfectly, perfectly, stunning! Now, I think there's a little part in all of us that can appreciate members of the same sex for their appeal, just like we do with their opposite sexed counterparts. What I don't understand, is why people in the media are shocked when research like this comes to light and you have to accept that people can appreciate one another in a sexual capacity without changing the sexuality that they commonly identify with.
Now, I personally have watched porn for a variety of reasons, but mostly I watch it to get ideas...mostly. The non-information gathering porn watching, has included lesbian porn if I'm being honest. I don't know if it's that girls know what they're doing to other girls (because, ya know, they're girls too!), or that I can relate to the sensations, I just think it's interesting. And effective. And isn't that porn's main job? I think that it's great that we live in a time where we can explore same sex intimacy, where we can wonder what sex is like with another wo(man) and see for ourselves.
Women are hot, and sexy as hell. There's something soft and beautiful about a woman's body that isn't typical of men. Men are muscular and angular, strong and solid (usually, historically). I just think that if we start complementing each other and acknowledge that there's something to be appreciated about one another, then we won't be shocked when we hear that women can find one another sexually appealing.
Finally, here is Ruby Rose. If you have not seen the most recent season of Orange is the New Black, then you must immediately - just for her. If you did see it and weren't turned on by her in the bathroom talking to Piper (male or female), then you are dead inside and your sex organs are faulty ;)
Not only is she hotter than all hell, but she's an Aussie too. How can you not love that?
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Hearts and Stars and Big Brown Eyes
On December 29, 2014, our 16 year old dog Mulder Faulk Johnson, died.
I began this post a few months back at the height of my sorrow, but I feel that the 6 month mark is appropriate to eulogize and remember him with a clearer head. The first months were hard. The inconsolable sorrow was a lead apron, the likes of which I have never felt in all my life. I have never lost anyone that I loved as much as Mulder. So here goes. My love for Mulder on a single page in the vastness of the internet.
I started with chapters of funny Mulder stories (and honestly, who doesn't have at least 1?), but I erased them all to write candidly about what Mulder and I did for each other, and why I will miss him every day of my life.
From the day we got him, my relationship with Mulder was tumultuous to say the least. I was the disciplinarian and his dad was the good guy. The worst part about losing him, is not knowing if he knew how deeply I adored him. How sad I am that I will never see him again. We can tell people that we love them and we can receive their love in return, but I always second guess my relationships with the non-verbal.
If I close my eyes for just a moment, my nose is buried in that beautiful, black, silky hair, and I am smelling his special "Mulder" scent. I can see those gorgeous brown eyes looking at me, either begging for a treat - or begging forgiveness. I can feel the white hot rage of coming home to destroyed baby gates, puddles of pee, or mangled blinds. I can feel the warmth of watching him sleep peacefully in our bed, being greeting euphorically at the door, or watching him sit patiently at the foot of our sons highchair. I can smile for all the times he made me laugh, whether he was being funny, or he left me so exasperated that I had no other choice but to crack a smile. I can see how handsome he looks after a bath and a haircut, and what a lunatic he was post-bath, running around the house rubbing himself on the walls and furniture, trying to dry off.
I hope he knew. I hope in those final moments, when the 3 of us were alone in that room, he knew how adored he was. That losing him broke my heart. That I will never be the same without him. That I am sorry for every time I lost my temper. Because right now there is almost nothing I wouldn't give to have him here barking like a lunatic because the doorbell rang and whoever it is is obviously a murderer and we should all go hide.
He made me such a better person. There will never be another Mulder. Mulder was one of the great loves of my life. I hate time for moving so fast and so slow all at the same time.
The days are long, but the years are short. Thank You Mulder, for 16 amazing, infuriating, rewarding years of being your mom <3
I began this post a few months back at the height of my sorrow, but I feel that the 6 month mark is appropriate to eulogize and remember him with a clearer head. The first months were hard. The inconsolable sorrow was a lead apron, the likes of which I have never felt in all my life. I have never lost anyone that I loved as much as Mulder. So here goes. My love for Mulder on a single page in the vastness of the internet.
I started with chapters of funny Mulder stories (and honestly, who doesn't have at least 1?), but I erased them all to write candidly about what Mulder and I did for each other, and why I will miss him every day of my life.
From the day we got him, my relationship with Mulder was tumultuous to say the least. I was the disciplinarian and his dad was the good guy. The worst part about losing him, is not knowing if he knew how deeply I adored him. How sad I am that I will never see him again. We can tell people that we love them and we can receive their love in return, but I always second guess my relationships with the non-verbal.
If I close my eyes for just a moment, my nose is buried in that beautiful, black, silky hair, and I am smelling his special "Mulder" scent. I can see those gorgeous brown eyes looking at me, either begging for a treat - or begging forgiveness. I can feel the white hot rage of coming home to destroyed baby gates, puddles of pee, or mangled blinds. I can feel the warmth of watching him sleep peacefully in our bed, being greeting euphorically at the door, or watching him sit patiently at the foot of our sons highchair. I can smile for all the times he made me laugh, whether he was being funny, or he left me so exasperated that I had no other choice but to crack a smile. I can see how handsome he looks after a bath and a haircut, and what a lunatic he was post-bath, running around the house rubbing himself on the walls and furniture, trying to dry off.
I hope he knew. I hope in those final moments, when the 3 of us were alone in that room, he knew how adored he was. That losing him broke my heart. That I will never be the same without him. That I am sorry for every time I lost my temper. Because right now there is almost nothing I wouldn't give to have him here barking like a lunatic because the doorbell rang and whoever it is is obviously a murderer and we should all go hide.
He made me such a better person. There will never be another Mulder. Mulder was one of the great loves of my life. I hate time for moving so fast and so slow all at the same time.
The days are long, but the years are short. Thank You Mulder, for 16 amazing, infuriating, rewarding years of being your mom <3
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Triumph and Failure, Best Friends for Life
I assure you that it has not been nearly as long as the previous post suggests, since I wrote to you all. I merely cleaned up the backlog, took out some of the more biting epitaphs that I had penned.
How fitting it is then, that this post is to commemorate my dearly departed father. Now, please note that the use of 'dearly' is more in keeping with a time and place where one has reverence and sincere sadness for the passing of one's father.
Several weeks ago a dear friend of mine lost her grandmother. Not wanting to ask my friend herself about the funeral arrangements, I went to my hometown's newspaper to see if anything had been posted yet. Imagine my shock when I fail to find my friend's grandmother and instead, find my own fathers name.
My father was a distant man who did not want me. I'm not being self-deprecating here, he literally did not want me. After he and my mother got pregnant with me, he informed her that it was entirely her choice to keep me or not, but that he would not be there. To his credit, he kept his word, and it wasn't until I was 12 that I met him, and only a handful of times after that.
I am a lot like my father in many ways, much to my mothers chagrin. I have his feet and his hands (and now my son does too), his vulgar mouth, his lack of a "filter", and his high-gear emotions. I'm never quite lukewarm where feelings are concerned. Which adds a bit of ironic humor to why he always thought I was mad at him, probably because I was the only person in his life to ever request accountability from him. It wasn't until last year when my mother told me about the near-fatal abuse that she suffered at his hands, that I truly realized what I kind of man I came from. Our last few conversations were of me wanting answers, acknowledgements, and apologies from him. He had one Ace-in-the-hole that he loved to play though, one thing that got him out of any trouble that was heading his way, God. He was adamant that "God", "Heaven", and "the Angels" all have a plan for each of us. He assured me that I didn't have to understand it and whats-more, I shouldn't even try. I should just accept that heaven has a plan and that everything he did, or would do, everything I felt, including the answers I wanted, were all part of "the plan".
Well, right about now I'm feeling particularly dicked by "the plan". I am not heartbroken that a stranger I didn't know is now gone. I am not sad that I will never get answers. I did get them. They were ridiculous excuses, but they were also his truths. He genuinely believed that he was but a puppet for the almighty and that everything that took place in his life was part of "the plan".
In a way, I'm glad that that chapter of my life is over. I'm glad that I found his complete opposite in my partner. I'm beyond glad that my son will never wonder where his father is, or why he's not there to tuck him in. He'll never ask us if we loved him, because he will never feel like we don't.
There are some things in life that we just have to make peace with. The actions of others are one of those things.
My final thoughts are this:
Love people with all your heart. And give that love to the people who deserve it. Bloodlines make a relatives - love makes a family.
How fitting it is then, that this post is to commemorate my dearly departed father. Now, please note that the use of 'dearly' is more in keeping with a time and place where one has reverence and sincere sadness for the passing of one's father.
Several weeks ago a dear friend of mine lost her grandmother. Not wanting to ask my friend herself about the funeral arrangements, I went to my hometown's newspaper to see if anything had been posted yet. Imagine my shock when I fail to find my friend's grandmother and instead, find my own fathers name.
My father was a distant man who did not want me. I'm not being self-deprecating here, he literally did not want me. After he and my mother got pregnant with me, he informed her that it was entirely her choice to keep me or not, but that he would not be there. To his credit, he kept his word, and it wasn't until I was 12 that I met him, and only a handful of times after that.
I am a lot like my father in many ways, much to my mothers chagrin. I have his feet and his hands (and now my son does too), his vulgar mouth, his lack of a "filter", and his high-gear emotions. I'm never quite lukewarm where feelings are concerned. Which adds a bit of ironic humor to why he always thought I was mad at him, probably because I was the only person in his life to ever request accountability from him. It wasn't until last year when my mother told me about the near-fatal abuse that she suffered at his hands, that I truly realized what I kind of man I came from. Our last few conversations were of me wanting answers, acknowledgements, and apologies from him. He had one Ace-in-the-hole that he loved to play though, one thing that got him out of any trouble that was heading his way, God. He was adamant that "God", "Heaven", and "the Angels" all have a plan for each of us. He assured me that I didn't have to understand it and whats-more, I shouldn't even try. I should just accept that heaven has a plan and that everything he did, or would do, everything I felt, including the answers I wanted, were all part of "the plan".
Well, right about now I'm feeling particularly dicked by "the plan". I am not heartbroken that a stranger I didn't know is now gone. I am not sad that I will never get answers. I did get them. They were ridiculous excuses, but they were also his truths. He genuinely believed that he was but a puppet for the almighty and that everything that took place in his life was part of "the plan".
In a way, I'm glad that that chapter of my life is over. I'm glad that I found his complete opposite in my partner. I'm beyond glad that my son will never wonder where his father is, or why he's not there to tuck him in. He'll never ask us if we loved him, because he will never feel like we don't.
There are some things in life that we just have to make peace with. The actions of others are one of those things.
My final thoughts are this:
Love people with all your heart. And give that love to the people who deserve it. Bloodlines make a relatives - love makes a family.
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