Some of my best friends are...

YOU TELL ME.

The title of this post is one of my ever-ready jokes. I hear people talking about something unsavory or controversial, or even just innocuous, (say lazy overweight police officers), and I suddenly interject, "Hey some of my best friends are fat lazy cops!" Without fail the joke gets people's attention, if not their laughter, especially when I add an indignant edge to my voice. Imagine two people are complaining about "some freakin' idiot" they know. Then in I come, with a "Hey, watch it, some of my best friends are freakin' idiots!" Depending how incautious I am with my interjections, the looks I can get can be pretty extreme. For example, if someone is griping about dogfeces on his shoe, I'll say, "Hey some of my best friends are dogfeces!" And so forth. It's a patently absurd act on my part, because I'm simultaneously stepping to the plate for people and things non grata and defending them under their more degrading titles.

In any case, the humor of this joke collided into a real life concern of mine recently. I gravitate towards the grittier, darker areas of the world, always sniffing about for injustice and corruption. One of my pet themes in the shadows of news is the sex trafficking and human slavery (STHS) industries (or I should say industry, since the two activities frequently commingle). I keep a file of news about STHS, including Peter Landesman's NYT article, a National Geographic article, Taiwan news, etc. Maybe knowing such barbarism is still "out there" keeps my conscience awake; maybe it just gives me shocking ammo to fuel conversations. (I had a friend who once claimed the world was objectively better because "we don't have slavery anymore," at which point I pounced on him to explain just how real it still is!) And I've certainly never been cowed by the canard that "the Bible approves of slavery," since a) slavery then was radically different from what it meant in the mercantile-/ early-modern West, and b) the Bible explicitly denounces slavery as "lawless and disobedient,... ungodly and [of] sinners, for the unholy and profane,... [and] contrary to sound doctrine" (1 Timothy 1:9-10).

1:10 pornoiV arsenokoitaiV andrapodistaiV [andrapodistais] yeustaiV epiorkoiV kai ei ti eteron th ugiainoush didaskalia antikeitai

1:10 For whoremongers, for them that defile themselves with mankind, for menstealers [andrapodistaiV], for liars, for perjured persons, and if there be any other thing that is contrary to sound doctrine;

Well, I just caught wind of a four-part series by the SF Chronicle on sex trafficking and I intend to follow it here at FCA. STHS may be "fair game" on neo-Darwinian, naturalistic lines, but I expose it and oppose it as an enemy of the pure teaching (th ugiainoush didaskalia antikeitai) of God.

Even so, I don't know all my motives for following this kind of news. But at some basic level it is to be Christlike. Jesus Christ dwelt among the crooks, the wasted, the stupid of his day -- and among the whores. And he expects me to follow him. As a Christian, I literally can't refuse to befriend crooks, wastes, idiots and whores. Truly, I should feel no compunction saying, "Hey, some of my best friends are whores!" For the truth is, these people (mostly young and denationalized), need someone to call them friend. They someone to say, "Hey, some of my best friends are sex slaves!"

Ah, Taiwan, how do I love thee?

Let me count the ways.

There was that time as the Five-Corner Tree restaurant when a hefty but nimble rat fell right on head, hopped off my shoulder and scrambled behind me and a lady on the same bench. "Rat, rat!" people screamed. An employee raised her head like an ox from a watering hole, but then went right back to sweeping. A few seconds later, everyone was eating serenely, and the rat was nowhere in sight. Probably bathing itself in the in-ground fish pool under our feet.

Then there was the time I ordered a grapefruit green tea, only to find a large crack ion the glass. I returned it for a new one and went on to enjoy my beverage. As the cup was getting empty, I took a big sip from the straw to savor the settled grapefruit pulp. But for some reason the pulp had a crunchy bit in it. Oh, I see: a rice sized shard of glass was down there too. How quaint! Waiter, might I trouble you to scratch this time off my bill, or should I just sue your boss instead?

Oh, yes, then there was the time, only a week or two ago in fact, when I was dining at one of my favorite restaurants near my house. I ordered a bento, three-cup chicken I believe it was. The meal was tasty, the drink delightfully shard-free and the atmosphere chic and relaxing. My gullet was getting full, so I decided to rinse it down with the little bowl of soup I'd let stand the whole meal. These stout little plastic bowls, black on the outside, maroon on the inside, are a common sight in Taiwan, so I wasn't in a rush to finish it. When I lifted the lid off, a strange thought flitted through my mind, "Why is there so little soup in here?" -- a thought so strange I just ignored it. "Of course there's only a little soup in a little bowl!) Then, as I lifted the bowl to my lips for that first warm sip, another thought blurred through my mind, "Why is this bowl not so very warm? Did I really let it sit so long?" -- a thought so petty I just ignored it. (Of course, there's little warmth in a little bowl!) But then, as the soup sluiced its way down my throat, and I glanced at the bottom of the bowl, a question roared into my mind, refusing to be ignored. "Why is there rice and bits of meat in this half-empty, nearly cool bowl of soup?"

Egads! I'd been treated to the house's Second-Hand Delight!

My stomach turned, my neck and face went clammy, and I fought the urge to refill the bowl with my own concoction from within. Deciding a lawsuit was too much to swallow, I still felt one sip of soup was more than enough, that night.

Ah, Taiwan, how could I sue thee! Let me count the ways! One two three!

Thus spake Fakespeare!

The optimist accuses the realist of too much pessimism, while the pessimist accuses him of too much optimism.

Meanwhile, the realist accuses the other two of being right.

(Not quite a koan, but you should ponder it a second or two.) Imagine yourself as a realist being so accused.

Essentially gay?

A major basis for "queer" studies is the de-essentialization of human nature, or the denaturing of nature. Once the entire Aristotelian-Thomistic metaphysic is scrapped, typically in favor of "de-ontic" existentialism, the concept of "essence" disappears too. And without "essences", or pure, objective modes of being, there is no essential human nature. Human nature is, instead, a plastic historical and biological construct. Since there is no "human nature," but only persons behaving under the banner of humanity, homosexuality cannot be a violation of human nature. Once the concept of real, essential nature disappears, natural law (as an expression of absolute truth embedded in human consciousness) loses its standing in the public much less private square.

The problem for me is that precisely by de-absolutizing human nature, queerists (if I may) as a rule, of not indeed as a necessity, absolutize queer nature. The reigning argument of the past couple decades in defense of homosexuality is basically that it is a legitimate, indeed naturally legitimate, expression of human sexuality. But by claiming a natural basis for queerness, queerists just swap saddles and continue riding the same essentialist horse. By arguing for autonomous queer studies, queerists just reinforce the older essentialist paradigm. By claiming homosexuality is authentically human, queerists imply something really is authentically human. Their critical metaphysical (existentialist) method undermines their own ideological goals.

If queerists however take the more radical, denatured line of thought, they eo ipso renege on rights to claiming "queer" is (also) "authentically human," since on radical existentialist lines nothing is authentically, essentially human. The problem, the risk of radical queerism, is that once queerism disqualifies itself from the realm of the "truly human," it opens itself to the danger of an absolutizing fascism in its opposition. "You say you are not 'essentially human'," asks the queer's opponent, "because nothing is essentially anything? Very well, then. We will simply take up the gauntlet and vanquish you, our non-human opponents, without the milk of human kindness."

A crucial point is that this fascist reaction need not be religious in nature but could just as easily be humanistic. In fact, the fascism reaction could indeed more easily be humanistic, since theists' essentialist commitments require them in principle to treat all what-they-recognize-as-humans humanely. A radically existentialist humanism, by contrast, could simply tack into a new sociocultural wind and decide those who renege on their rights as true humans (i.e., radical queerists), have ipso facto lost their place in the human community. And then -- off with their non-human heads! The major (and I would say saving) difference is that while essentialist theists (or theistic essentialists) may oppose homosexuality as a free perversion of human nature, they never deny the humanity of their opponents. Humans can be wrong, essentialists argue, but they can't have their humanity simply revoked by public will.

The basic (and I believe lethal) flaw in queerism is that by legitimizing homosexuality on the grounds of human dignity and autonomy ( i.e., "I'm a human too, so you must respect my way of being human!"), it eo ipso posits an essential anthropological substratum (of what should be universally protected human nature). This essential human substratum -- let's call it "essential anthro-autonomy " -- in turn destroys the ethical "space" created for homosexuality on the grounds that it's not "against human nature," since there is no human nature! But the question stands: Which is it? An essentially queer human nature, rooted in an unwittingly essentialist ontology? Or a radically existential monad rooted in personal autonomy? As long as queerism insists it is an essentially human category of being and thought, it never owns up to its most basic existential, anti-essentialist commitments. How queer indeed.

A note from Elliam I. Fakespeare…

ON BEHALF OF THE FCA RESEARCH DIVISION (FCARD):

Long-time readers here, and occasional mind readers anywhere, know Elliot has a mild obsession for neologism (unlike Derrida's penchant for deologism). Usually, however, after some research, we discover his attempts to neologize are at best cases of "reologism" (i.e., unwittingly copying others' neologisms). Previous examples of his reologisms include "internetorati" and "gengineering" (though, to his credit, he does seem to have something unique in the singular "internetoratus"). His decrepit middle school Latin pays off sometimes, he tells us.

Elliot may for the most part be a better reologizer than a neologizer, but in this case, FCARD is happy to announce Elliot seems to have really done it. Hence, FCARD is officially making the claim here and now on his behalf: current findings indicate Elliot actually coined a couple words in his most recent post ("Pop culchure at large")! Admittedly, using Google as our primary research tool is not so very rigorous, but it suffices for our purposes. (Besides, combing through books, all those heavy books, is so passé.)

The only instance of "sarcasmophilia" FCARD found was here; but this instance hardly seems to count, since the writer completely reversed the concepts (since when does "philia" mean "fear"?) We have found no instances of "sarcasmophobia," so FCA lays claim to it.

Also, while FCARD did find several instances of "culchure," they all seem to represent either genuine spelling errors (no applause), or crude attempts at sounding stupid to sound clever (e.g., "You so stoopid har har har."). Elliot, on the other hand, seems to have actually given the term an intentionally sharper, cultural-critical edge by highlighting the slimy, inert-but-restless, cyclical almost viral-clone nature of pop culture. Culchure in effect pinpoints the double entendre of "culture" being both a matrix of shared lifeways AND as a bacterial habitat (a culch box).

Just a moment... just a moment... FCARD has just picked up an extra neologism in the A&E-06 unit. Current data indicate FCARD itself may have just neologized! This accessory post contains two strong cases: deologism (esp. as postmodern, Derridan method) and reologism (as an all too common fault of Elliot's). Claims hereby thereto lain.

sarcasmophobia, sacrasmophobe, sarcasmophobic
sarcasmophilia, sarcasmophilie, sarcasmophilic
pop culchure
reologism, reologize, reologizer
deologism, deologize, deologizer

Pop culchure at large

A major pandemic of the internet is "sarcasmophobia" (on the receiving end, or "sarcasmophilia" on the dishing end), so I want to be clear: I genuinely thank the reader below for noting FCA's recent layout "idiosyncracy" (i.e., hyperlinks are invisible because they color-blend into the text background). I realize this is technically a "problem." Even so, the fact is, I intentionally changed my HTML template to "disappear" the links. Why? Because, well... there is a bizarre appeal in having a madlibs blog.

Imagine: for the breakdancing post below, you have the freedom to read it as, "I just love dis guy... when he EXPLODES. And CHESTER COPPERPOT ain't no schlub either. Lastly, of course, my NEPHEW'S BIRTHMARK is why I used to watch BIRDS DIE." Once you touch the link, the boring uncreative truth peeks out in maroon (and remains visible in blue after you click on it). But until then -- until that fateful tempting nudge of the mouse cursor -- the sky's the limit!

But that's not all. A germinal but until this moment unconscious motive is my interest in the CIA. Take for example two books I own: Robert Baer's See No Evil and Marchetti & Marks's The CIA and the Cult of Intelligence. Throughout their pages, both books have way cool blacked-out lines and phrases where the CIA censored them. So now reading FCA is like reading a de-classified document (hurry, minimize the document, Agent Boss is coming!).

Folks, where else but FCA -- where we aim for accuracy by volume! -- where else could you enjoy arcane social commentary, random pop-culchure links, Fakespearian brilliance, sporadic theological and philosophical mutterings, AND a choose-your-own-hyperlink adventure? Where else but your dreams!

Paradoxically, if nothing else this "distraction" gets you to notice the links even more, for reading a post now is like watching a person without a shadow. You sense something is wrong, something unseen yet blatant, and you simply can't look away. Mwahahaha!

NOTE TO ALL READERS: I'm curious to see readers' thoughts on this camouflage tactic. It is an experiment. Survey says...