I don’t post about feminism these days. I haven’t posted about it in a while, really, other than to reference some aspects of theory, and then only because the statements were both relevant and prominent. But I had to comment upon this post from figleaf, which mentions the subject. Read and return.

Now, I do have privilege. I’m male, and I’m of European descent. But as I’ve mentioned no few times, I also live under the poverty threshold, have medical issues that prevent me from attending and completing college and holding a standard job, engage in D/s and hold to a religious perspective that’s heavily contentious. The fact that I haven’t even publicly mentioned it here — even considering the relative anonymity of posting like this — should be enough to illustrate that; I don’t just have to defend it when someone of the same persuasion commits an indefensible act, but also practically every time it’s mentioned to people who aren’t already familiar with it. And sometimes even to people who are.

So here’s the difference when it comes to feminism: when you’re a feminist, you’re an activist as well. Even if you’re not protesting in the streets, you’ve taken a position that criticizes the status quo and embraces a change in that structure.

I’m not an activist simply because of my economic situation. I’m not an activist simply due to my medical situation, either, or the fact that I enjoy sexual power dynamics; and I’m not an activist due to my perspective on religion. Being criticized for the actions of other activists isn’t nearly the same thing as being criticized or being looked upon with suspicion or disgust because someone poor robbed a store or someone with medical difficulties committed welfare fraud or someone used D/s as a justification for abuse or someone saw a movie about people with similar religious faiths and decided that it reflected the truth — much less read about someone of that persuasion going overboard in a serious way.

There’s a huge difference between acting to change things and being held accountable for the actions of those who share both your label and your goals — in whole or in part — and being held accountable for the actions of other people simply because of something that’s involved in your private life. Saying that the difference is massive wouldn’t even begin to cover it.

I’m not saying that any and every feminist should be held accountable for the perspectives of Mary Daly or the writings of Valerie Solanas. I’m not saying that many of them should, in fact, not unless they overtly and positively acknowledge them or make claims that feminism does not and has never involved the kinds of statements that Daly and Solanas advanced (i.e., the “faux feminist” and “wearing red” arguments) or make statements to the effect that feminism is always beneficial. But that is no justification, none at all, for claiming that what a person does in pursuit of social change falls into remotely the same category as what one does in her or his private life, or the circumstances of that life.

To overlook that difference… now that’s a blatant demonstration of privilege.

Survive? Check.

Replicate, or decide not to replicate (now or ever)? Check.

Now what?

That, I think, and in a nutshell, is what culture is: it’s an answer to the “Now what?” question — or an attempt to provide one, at least.

Although it involves social relations, I strongly suspect that it isn’t a social thing. I’m coming to be of the opinion that social analysis is pretty much useless when it comes to cultural examination, in fact. What we need is an analysis of boredom, instead, and that’s because (in my current and changeable opinion) culture (or the lack thereof) is what emerges (or fails to emerge) when we have nothing better to do.1

Which is to say, once we’ve dealt with the first two issues, at least to the point where we’re not worrying about them too much.

That used to be called “vacation,” noting that the word comes from the Latin vacare, meaning “to be empty.” But, of course, vacation isn’t what it used to be; to echo Hakim Bey, it’s time that’s no longer empty, but time that’s now filled by the products of the leisure industry. If culture emerges in the gaps, though, that’s to be expected. It’s just an indication that culture has been delegated — or outsourced, if you will.

When you think about it, boredom is a stressor. Long silences get filled with coughing and shuffling around, and the perception of ambient noises. (Cage’s 4’33″ is the prime example.) Sitting still is difficult; we often fidget. Closing our eyes for an extended period isn’t the easiest thing to do, except for sleep, which isn’t always easy, and meditation, which can be even harder, to the point of being a skill.

I’d go so far as to say that boredom is, yet again, another epigenetic factor.

And a seriously underestimated one at that.

It’s the third primary threat, after those regarding survival and replication.2 It’s the “Now what?” gauntlet, thrown down by rest. To go back to the first post of this series, what I’d suggest is this: that boredom is the catalyst for qualia, the thing that brings out the unique features and/or characteristics of one’s ability to perceive.

Which is to say, we’re not hardwired for culture, and we’re not hardwired to use tools, either. We’re hardwired (though I do dislike using that term) to do things. Culture and tools are side-effects of that; they emerge because doing things sometimes leads to doing things more efficiently, and that leaves us with some empty time.

So we look around, and we listen, and we touch things, and we taste them, and we sniff, and there’s little around to distract us from what we see, hear, feel, taste and smell. But there’s only so much to sense, especially if you’re not moving around too much. So we create art to have something to look at, music and stories to have something to hear, clothing to have something to feel (and look at as well: the origin of style), cooking to have something to taste (and smell), and new scents for our noses to amuse themselves with — all the building blocks of culture.3

The whole thing tends to spiral, too.

And that’s what we tend to call “progress.”

Boredom: the desire for desires.

– Leo Tolstoy

Nail, head and hit. The lion had it right.

I’m sure that this will come off as deflationary to some. And yeah, it is, and it’s meant that way. Not to slight culture at all — I enjoy a lot of its products just as much as anyone does, and I don’t see that as a fault — but this whole “Aren’t we unique? Look at what we’ve created and overcome along the way!” self-back-patting really does deserve a needle to the heart of its balloon.

Besides: it opens up the possibility that a person can have too much culture, not to the point where they lose contact with their street smarts (one stereotype) and become “academic” (the other),4 but to the point at which they’re just not bored enough.

Not many people seem to mention that.

1. Which goes back to the conjectures regarding memes as genetic deletions, and the probable necessity of periods of withdrawal, advanced in the previous post in this series. [↩]
2. In this connection, as both a threat and an epigenetic factor, Shorter and Fink’s Endocrine Psychiatry: Solving the Riddle of Melancholia might be of interest to the reader. As stated early on in the introduction: “Both of us have a long-standing interest in melancholia as a life-threatening illness that possesses the paradoxical quality of responding dramatically to treatment.” [↩]
3. And of self, I suspect, in a Julian Jaynesish way. Who else are we going to talk to when we’re alone? [↩]
4. These two aren’t ruled out, though. [↩]

As an aside to the previous post, if the interference/inhibition conjecture is accurate, that might explain one of the few aspects of sexual dimorphism in human beings: greater muscle mass in males (or at least a greater capacity for muscular hypertrophy).

This wouldn’t be due to the usual explanation, which is that increased muscle mass produces increased work capacity. It would be due to the fact that muscle is the primary storage and production site of glutamine.

Simply put, if there’s a single developmental process, and this process is one that’s inhibited or interfered with in males, to a greater or lesser degree, then this could introduce a risk of increased pathology; and glutamine has proven effective in wound healing, safeguarding the intestinal mucosa and proper function of the kidneys, increasing levels of glutathione and maintaining (and possibly boosting) immune response.

Which is to say that males may have greater muscle mass/capacity for muscular hypertrophy because this offsets the costs of being male.

Normally, it seems, we tend to look at sexual difference… axially. Which is to say, spread along a line of possibilities, defined by extreme male and female points (and sometimes omitting the intervening ones). But I’m wondering whether or not that’s the right way to approach it, even if a person approaches it only in the pursuit of dismantling the structure.

Because it’s also possible to look at it as an ongoing, agonistic1 process.

Essentially, the question would be one of whether or not sexual differentiation occurs only twice — during embryonic development and again (loosely speaking) at puberty — or if these are merely the circumstances in which it’s most prominent, because it occurs in particular ways.

The interpretation of internal genital differentiation is the pivot point. During this, an absence of testosterone leads to the degeneration of the Wolffian ducts, and the Müllerian ducts develop into the uterus, et. al. in the absence of AMH. Superficially, that would suggest that masculinization occurs because something is added, implying that there are two separate/main paths of development, one reflecting presence, and the other, absence.

But it’s also possible to see the process as involving the prevention of changes that would otherwise occur — in which case the process is subtractive, not additive. The addition would merely enable the subtraction, and what we’d have is a single process: one that may or may not be inhibited, and that to a greater or lesser degree.

This, however, does not necessarily imply that the processes from which these additions subtract cease to act at any given point. They may only cease to act in particular ways and upon particular things: one window of effect for an action can close, while others remain open. Absent any identification of such an ongoing process, assuming that it exists, additive factors that enable subtractive effects in regard to these remaining windows would appear to be arbitrary.

And that at best; at worst, they’d appear to be barbaric.

1. As distinct from antagonistic. “Agon(ist)” has a much broader meaning, especially when considering the Greek. [↩]

It’s an odd concept. The hair on the palms thing I can understand, given the animalistic stereotype and folklore about what semen does for the skin and all. Going blind, though… that idea’s just strange, and it makes a person wonder how someone came up with it. But I suppose that it’s no stranger than the etymology of “testicle,” really. Which is L. testiculum, meaning “witness,” on the offhand chance that someone doesn’t know.

Then again, consider exhibit 1:

And exhibit 2:

Which would tie the two pretty closely together, and explain the whole “boys [and men] don’t cry” thing along the way. And the more recent trope about men being visual creatures, which is something that regularly makes the rounds these days. Including the notion of the Male Gaze, by the way. Take a look and exercise your imagination a bit, and you could probably derive an androcentric perspective from the parallels as well: just take the shaft and glans and flip ‘em over the top and down. The rest should suggest itself.

Some ideas just never die. Most of the time, I doubt that we’re even aware that we’ve inherited them.

Slow posting rate. That’s an unusual thing around here.

But there’s a reason for it, and it isn’t because I’ve run dry on subjects to post. It’s that all of this exploration — the adoption of altered sleep routines, polyphasic and otherwise,1 the use of supplements, and the effect/recovery cycle of the wet heat treatment — has… well, it’s altered some fundamental things. Like my perception of time and aging, and my whole concept of nature. As it were.

It’s one thing to be on a drug, or to use something for performance enhancement: those things have an end in mind. But to use something because it seems like your body needs it, or because your body can employ it, is a different experience. It’s open-ended; it allows things to occur.

I don’t mean that in terms of any kind of external reference, though, not in the usual sense of words like freedom or liberation. There’s been a change when it comes to that, but more than anything else, it seems incidental. Or something like a second-order consequence instead of a direct and primary one.

I suppose that the main issue is this: when it comes to the subjects of sleep, diet and reproduction… these are all social things. Sleep coordinates actions; diet coordinates group procurement, distribution and gatherings, to which the timing of actions is also bound; and reproduction coordinates group cohesion, bonding and structure, and relates to time as well (coordinating actions on multiple scales, from days to months to years).

And when it comes to these three, I’ve altered them all.

I haven’t felt any more integrated as a result of that. But, oddly enough, I haven’t felt disintegrated, either. It’s more like… clockwork. By which I mean that these components — sleep, diet and reproduction — still form parts of a system, and still interact and function within the context of that system. But the gears can engage and disengage with each other; and they aren’t the same size; and they don’t move in the same way or at the same rates. “The objective referent of a clock is another clock,” to use the quote that I’ve used before: but a clock itself is multiple referents, when taking an inside view.

What it really reminds me of is something that I used to own: an old self-winding mechanical watch.

And when it comes to that, it isn’t just a matter of whether or not a person is in sync with others around them. I’m not sure that one even needs to be in sync when that happens, or at least not as much. Optionally and situationally, maybe; which is to say, the same on the outside as on the in. But not as a rule.

Which makes it a bit difficult to address the usual subjects in the usual way: gender, role, etc. and the like. Those things assume constants, even if they vary in the details: gender is, role is, and so on down the line. It just doesn’t feel that way anymore. I mean, yes, things are, but they have contours and notches and speeds.

It’s made me take a different view of a previous tagline: “If I cannot prevail upon the Higher Powers, I will stir up Acheron.” Though I used the Latin at the time.

What that’s come to mean now is this: if the social resists you, stir up your own depths. It’s a matter of how deep into those waters you go.

But keep in mind:

http://eso.terica.net/skinfilter/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/skuld.flv

Allies have a nature of their own.

1. Going back on the coleus has restored the three-hour sleep periods, so it looks like the earlier conjecture on that was probably right. [↩]

It’s trite to say that what we do, sexually, varies; the list of possible -philias is likely impossible to catalogue, no matter how hard the Krafft-Ebings among us may try. It’s slightly less trite so say that those to whom we’re attracted can vary, but only because there’s less to vary than in the case of what we do; and still less in the case of how we go about it, applying on both counts. And so on down to the basics, which generally resolve to two: the fundamentals of pleasure and reproduction.

That being where the debate (if never ended) eventually comes to rest.

But I doubt that it’s ever quite one or the other; it might be more on one side, from time to time and from body to body (person included, of course), but rarely, if ever, all. And that, to my mind, suggests something important.

Namely, this.

In the usual lines of argument — which is to say, we have sex to reproduce, or no, we have sex simply because it’s fun — we’re looking at a power law. Which would make sense; they’re unusually common. But to follow a power law is to argue for primacy, to establish the areas of the highest points (and, accordingly, their driving forces). All-or-nothing, zero sum. To switch to the hyperbola is to allow for both, at least potentially, depending upon the nature of the axes and asymptotes.

But there’s something more important.

If we’re dealing with a hyperbola, not a power law, then what’s usually argued over (as fun as it can be to watch the debate, and as depressing as can be the same) has a weakness: there’s the possibility that it deals with only one arm, with which the other does not intersect.

As such, any understanding of the underlying system(s) involved, at least when considering that which is based upon current approaches, might be minimal at best: it’s possible that there are aspects of sexual function, behavior, mechanism, et. al. that, from the dominant perspective, simply can’t be known.

Fundamentally, all that this shift in approach requires is to see the structures of sexual function, etc. in terms of a conic section. This is, in its way, already implicit in various concepts: the pleasure/reproduction debate could be seen as based upon the parabola, oestrus upon the circle and hetero-, bi- and homosexuality as points upon an ellipse. All that’s required is to see each of these things as alterations of the orientation of the intersecting plane. But to regard the pleasure/reproduction issue as the fundamental point is to place an arbitrary stop upon the possible orientations of that plane — to restrict its movement to being parallel to a generating line. Which is pretty much implicit in the pleasure/reproduction debate itself, seeing as it usually posits the maximization of one or the other as a goal or drive, explicit or implicit as the case may be.

But I don’t see any convincing reason to do that; it strikes me as being completely arbitrary to exclude, or fail to consider, anything beyond the parallel.