Nom Internets

I just read a shocking news article on NRK.no. I thought this might be something my followers would be interested in, so I’ve translated it into English.

Please be aware that I’m not a professional translator. I’ve [bracketed phrases] that were originally idioms that I had to switch out, or words that I found difficult to translate in context. Credit for the article goes to Su Thet Mon of NRK. Original article HERE.

—-

Military service is obligatory for all Turkish men, unless one has a valid physical or psychological reason to be released from the obligation.

The Turkish military classifies homosexuality as a mental disease and homosexual men are therefore exempt from military service.

But it is a humbling affair to convince military authorities that one is actually homosexual, writes BBC.

Requires photographic evidence

“They asked me about the first time I had anal sex, oral sex, and what kind of toys I played with as a child. They also asked if I liked football and if I dressed in women’s clothing,” says ‘Ahmet.’ 
 
The young man in his 20-ies stepped forward and told Turkish [officials] about his sexual orientation in hopes of being released from conscription.
 

“I was told that I didn’t look like a ‘normal homosexual man’, because I had a little bit of beard and looked masculine. They asked me to show a picture where I was dressed as a woman,” says Ahmet to BBC.

He didn’t have a picture of himself in women’s clothing, but went along with showing the military officials a picture of himself kissing another man.

Another earlier soldier, “Gokhan”, tells that he had to show pictures of himself while having sex with another man to prove that he was homosexual. [Translator’s note: This is their phrasing, but they mean “pictures of himself having sex”.]

“The face must be visible and the pictures must show that you are the passive one in the [relationship],” says ‘Gokhan’ to BBC.

Medical diagnosis

The Turkish gay rights activist Nevruz Ebru Aksu says to Gaysir that a homosexual man who doesn’t want to join the military must also be examined by a military doctor, in order to determine if he has had anal sex or not.

“The doctors are pressured by their superiors to diagnose homosexuality. It is medically impossible and, [to say the least], unethical to define sexual orientations,” says a psychiatrist who has worked with a military hospital.
“Homosexual men in the military can bet on ‘discipline problems.’ But we have to make sure that those who say they are homosexual, actually speak the truth and aren’t just lying to [get away],” says Armagan Kuloglu, a pensioned general in the Turkish defense.

Homosexuality is not punishable in Turkey. The everyday lives of many of the land’s gays and lesbians still suffer from stigmatization, violence, and harassment, especially in the [urban areas].

In 2008, Ahmet Yildiz (26) was shot and killed after he stepped forward as homosexual to [be spared] the military. According to the prosecution, he was murdered by his conservative father.

I laughed, I cried, I jumped out of my seat and cheered.

They’ll be posting the full recording on this page shortly.

For those of you who don’t know: YouTube—yes, YouTube itself—just livestreamed a play about the prop 8 court hearing, starring A-list names like Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Kevin Bacon, Chris Colfer, Jamie Lee Curtis, George Takei, and many others.

Quote of the evening?

We are running the last leg of this civil rights race.

Prop 8 has been ruled unconstitutional by a judge’s panel in the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals. It is strongly believed that it is destined for the Supreme Court.

Soon.

My day starts when a guest looks at me and says:

“Girl, you look sad. I know why. You need a man. You need a man, girl. You know what? I’m available. I got sixteen-hundred girlfriends, n’ they all well taken care of.”

I walked around for the next half hour, wondering if my response was going to get me fired. I almost wanted it to.

Later in the day, after work, I stop by my brother’s business to chill out, look at new pictures of the baby, and generally enjoy a social “safe space” after my hellish day at work. My brother’s store is a fairly heartwarming place to be in certain respects, because even though the crowd is pretty hardcore about its machismo, they all kind of get that I’m not a “girl” in the sense that they’re used to, and they just go with it. It doesn’t bother them that they can’t define me, or that they don’t have a word for me, or that I’m participating in their “bro”dom. These are guys who have never taken a gender studies class in their lives, never read an online article, and never raised a question more potent than, “Do girls read comic books, too?” Yet they take in this undefined element without an ounce of ado, because they really don’t give a shit about all that. They care about how I act, and if I walk in acting like a bro, then I’m a bro. Bros don’t really overthink that too much. It’s basically the sort of space that you hope will exist one day if everyone just takes enough gender studies classes.

So, I’m there, chilling with my brother and my friend Sol, when this new guy steps up and joins our conversation. We’re all casually chatting, when the new guy lets the word “shit” slip into his sentence—and immediately motions to me with the words, “I’m sorry.” He then continues his sentence as normal, while I stand there and stare at him.

It’s just such an abrupt… shattering of the space I’m in.

“What do you mean, you’re sorry?” I ask.

“I’m just traditional,” he says, almost as if it’s a compliment to himself, and then goes on with the previous conversation.

I let it go, but I fume over it privately.

Until he pours himself some scotch.

And offers me some.

I just… stare at him, like I can’t believe he’s offering me a drink. Sharing alcohol is like shaking hands in bro-speak, but this is the guy who, two minutes earlier, had singled me out with his genderizing comments. It’s pretty much an insult for him to be offering me alcohol right now.

“No,” I say, after a long moment of staring. Then- “Okay- How is being ‘traditional’ in this context any different than being ‘sexist’?”

“Oh I do it to children too.”

“…”

“I apologize when I swear in front of kids too,” he clarifies, then smiles and takes a sip, and acts like that was the end of the conversation.

W- Seriously? The stone-age approach that women are to be treated with the same social delicacy as children?! Possibly one of the most blatantly sexist approaches you can possibly have to social interaction, and this guy doesn’t even see it. I can feel the heat in my face.

“You should apologize when you cuss in front of children. Why the fuck are you apologizing to me?”

“Like I said, I’m just traditional.”

“Like I asked, how is that different from being sexist.”

My brother interjects, “An argument could be made for not wanting to curse in front of strangers you don’t know.” He laughs—that charismatic laugh that can bring pretty much any social interaction back to lukewarm, no matter where it’s coming from.

The other guy grins and toasts his glass toward my brother. “Yeah, that’s it. I don’t want to cuss in front of people I might offend.”

“Yeah, but you apologized to me specifically. Because you’re ‘traditional.’”

“You’re playing the gender card,” he says, smirkily.

I almost fall over with anger.

“What?” I barely manage to whisper the question.

“You’re playing the gender card!” he laughs.

My anger suddenly breeches some sort of membrane and I’m seeing red so hard that I can no longer form coherent sentences.

“The fuck? The gender card? There’s no fucking card! I’m just trying to be! Is it a card when you play it? Fuck.” It suddenly (finally) hits me that there is absolutely no reason to pay an ounce of attention to this douche, and I turn back to my brother, communicating with my entire body language that I’m done having any sort of conversation with him.

After a pause, he says, “Do you want me to respond to that?”

I look back at him and answer honestly. “If you have even an ounce of genuine interest in becoming a little more fucking enlightened, then yeah. If not, then no, just don’t talk to me.”

He laughs.

The fucker laughs. At me.

You know what really got me about this whole interaction?

I was not presenting as femme-gendered in ANY way.

In fact, I was not presenting as masculine-gendered. I just wasn’t fucking presenting. My hair, my clothes, my face: there were zero genderized choices in any of them. I was sending zero fucking signals to anybody. Now- even if I had been presenting as femme, that doesn’t mean I’m interested in playing a “traditional” gender game, but that’s not the point this time. The point is that I wasn’t presenting, and HE CHOSE FOR ME.

He chose. He chose to cast me into a gender role, without a FUCK of input from me.

You can’t tell what someone’s gender or sex is on the inside, just by looking at them. Not unless they have blatantly put on a particular gender costume. You just can’t.

You can’t.

And so to just choose on someone’s behalf? That’s fucking shitty.

Especially when they immediately let you know that it’s not cool.

To just continue?

To continue to impose a gender role on them, against their will?

That’s the definition of a sexist piece of shit.

You know what’s irking me a little?

THIS line:

“It’s such a great friendship, and there’s so much going on there. Why does it have to be sexual?”

It’s always said with this tone of anger and frustration, like it would be an insult to the writing to take it to a sexual place.

Why does it have to be sexual?

My question is: why not?

The people who ask this “Why does it have to be sexual?” question are misunderstanding something essential, and I think misunderstanding it willfully.

No one is saying that the connection has to be sexual to be validated.

Do hordes of people want the relationship to be sexualized? Do hordes of people think that it would be a natural extension of the characterization? Do hordes of people think that it would be the most honest modernization? Are hordes of people emotionally invested in the idea?

Yeah.

Sure, there’s just as many people in the other camp, and their viewpoint is just as valid. Which is strange, because if Sherlock Holmes and John Watson had been written or filmed as lovers, I somehow don’t imagine that there would be an entire community devoted to a platonic interpretation of the material, only to be then dismissed with lines like,

“It’s such a great romance, and there is so much going on there. Why does it have to be de-sexualized?”

The insinuation that sexualization would cheapen the relationship between John Watson and Sherlock Holmes, or that it would cheapen the artistic merit of the show, is sex-negative and irrational.

When I read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s work, I often think to myself, “They could be shagging the entire time they live together at 221b, or not, and not a line of this wonderful writing would need to be changed either way.” Because the stories were, in their meta universe, “real” men publishing their experiences in The Strand, there is no room to address the issue one way or the other. They were published in the 19th century, for Pete’s sake. 19th century England: a time and a place where the need for secrecy regarding such matters was outmatched only by the volume of actual practice that was occurring among refined men. Details on Holmes and Watson’s private lives were understandably left out of the record, for the most part.

In other words, any re-interpretation that chooses to show more detail of their personal relationship has the option of including sex in the relationship, or not.

And it wouldn’t change a damn thing about those stories, or make them an ounce less profound or entertaining.

It wouldn’t make the relationship between those two characters an ounce less interesting, or less immortal.

Like a more detailed exploration of their platonic friendship, a more detailed exploration of their romantic relationship would yield fruits that were just as complex, just as worthwhile, and just as true to the characters.

You know what the real problem is, here?

Our society’s relationship with sex, and the internalized notion that sex cannot exist separately from pre-established relationship structures unless it’s a two-dimensional pursuit of beastly needs. Our society’s rejection of the idea that sexuality exists in friendships, when in fact, it often does. The line is far thinner than we lead ourselves to believe, and the spectrum runs far and wide. So many people share a degree of sexual intimacy with their close friends that they don’t acknowledge for what it is. Maybe they have sex with their partners, but go to their best friends to hash out all the details and talk about how it felt. Maybe they discuss masturbation and self-love at length with friends, share intimate stories, and exchange tips. Maybe they “ship” something and exchange highly erotic fiction or fantasies with a close friend. Maybe they’ve occasionally gone to their close friends for sexual experimentation or comfort. (In Kinsey’s studies, 46% of self-identified straight men had engaged in sexual contact with another man.)

The role of sex in friendships is complex, fluid, and usually unidentified.

So what is this invisible line, I wonder, that turns this interaction from something that is interesting and honest into something that is superficial, structured, or cheap? The moment two people begin to flat out have sex on a regular basis, does their definition as “lovers” suddenly override their definition as “friends”? Is it suddenly less complex? Is there suddenly less to explore? Has it suddenly been dramatized or romanticized or popularized?

The second you add sex, does that sex replace other interesting dynamics within Holmes and Watson’s relationship? Does it take aspects of their interaction and condense it into physical contact?

Or is it, in fact, merely another amazingly deep dimension of an infinitely faceted connection that is—for a reason—one of the most studied in all of literature?

Doesn’t it, in fact, have the potential to enrich that study?

Why does it have to be sexual, you ask?

It doesn’t have to be.

However, I offer you this thought:

Really let it sink in that it also doesn’t have to not be.

I just want to nip these in the bud-

1. Many people responded that it made them uncomfortable to see a person’s sexuality analyzed so deeply when that person (fictional though they are) has made no statement about it themselves. My response to that is: I’m analyzing a character whose life is shown in short clips, and whose broader experiences are purposefully (and sometimes strategically) hidden in the off-camera fog. By the show creators, not by the character himself. My argument was not simply that Sherlock is gay, but that he is gay and out to a large degree. Which brings me around to-

2. Some people were offended that I said he might be gay “just because people around him think he is.” I was specifically referring to Mrs. Hudson and Angelo, and my point was not that they “THINK” he’s gay, but that they KNOW he’s gay, after years of friendship with the man. As in, Sherlock himself has outed himself to them in the past. My point was specifically that I DON’T think they’re running on assumptions.

3. I phrased my point about his clothing very delicately, but I think people are just so used to hearing certain things that some people’s minds went there immediately. Someone even responded, “Just because he likes feminine things doesn’t mean he’s gay,” which is not a response to anything I actually said, but a response to what that person is used to hearing. Sometimes, when we hear/read certain trigger words, we tune out the rest, because we’re expecting a tired old insult. Here’s what I said, rephrased and expanded a bit:

People who have a sexual preference will often adopt appearances and behaviors that their surrounding culture tells them is relevant to their identity. This isn’t always a deeply thought-out choice. Think of the hordes of teens who dive into their mothers’ make-up kits at a certain age: it doesn’t mean they’re looking for sex, it just means that they are forming thoughts about themselves as sexual beings, and the desire to mark themselves accordingly is a powerful one that manifests in all sorts of rituals, ritual garb, ritual paint, etc., throughout human cultures. (I’m not saying that this impulse hits everyone, but it exists and it’s widespread and powerful.) Sometimes, that awakening into sexual identity means that people adopt behaviors that they perceive to be relevant to sex-ID, too. In some culture clusters, masculine heterosexuality is seen as something that is expressed through an aggressive treatment of women, for example. Sometimes, behaviors and appearances that correspond to one’s identity don’t exist, and people make choices between what does. For example: in cultures where behaviors that express “what it means to be a lesbian” don’t exist, many gay women will appropriate masculine heterosexual behaviors instead. Yes, these are all very uncomfortable things to talk about, and it often involves walking on eggshells, because again, they’re reflections of an imperfect world, and they shove in our faces how very arbitrary much of our sexual culture is.

But. The point here was that Sherlock could just as easily have gone through that period of appropriation—taking bits of stereotypes here and there that culture tells him is “gay male”, and integrating them into himself in order to create a tangible link to his sexual identity. Billions of people do this, guys; it isn’t a stretch. There are large, very media-visible portions of gay male culture that advertises this—as I phrased it—“sassy, savvy genius” about clothing. The fact that Sherlock’s knowledge about clothing stood out so oddly against everything else (the man doesn’t know the Earth revolves around the Sun, but he knows a particular brand of underwear that gay men use to cruise each other) made me wonder if that was an appropriation thing. And yes, especially the line, “That frankly rather alarming shade of pink,” because in what other context does Sherlock give a damn about such shallow things?

4. ”This show isn’t about anyone’s sexuality; why does it matter.” Actually, there was some really fucking inappropriate homophobic bullshit that came out of the woodworks, and I had to go and clear up my dash a bit. (Yes. On my dash. I was kind of crushed.) But, the above is an actual valid question that was extracted from the otherwise bullshit flood of trolling. My response is simply that it matters to me. It matters to me because I’m queer, and being represented in media is something that jumps out at me and matters to me very much. Trust me, it’s hard to feel casual and nonchalant about it. Not when you’ve grown up watching the television slooowly eeking toward tolerable… First, “unmentionable”ness of gay people. Then, the gay person as an intense and uncomfortable guest plotline. Then, the gay person as a token. Then, the gay person as a token. Then, the gay person as a token. (Okay, this went on for a while.) Then, gay people as people—but only in shows that were actually about being gay. Then, gay people as people in shows that weren’t exclusively about being gay—but their entire character’s plotline was about them being gay. Then, Glee. Then-…Who knows? This?

I’m just saying: if you’ve grown up with this major element of your human identity represented in literally every single show on television, it’s probably a little bit easier to not care whether a major protagonist like Sherlock is queer. If you’re me, and you not only grew up in an area that was dangerously homophobic, but have been waiting your entire life to see an interesting, compelling, brilliant character in a “non-gay context” (if you will), then maybe you’d be a bit invested. Validly so.

Just speaking for myself here, but suspect that I’m not alone in this.

Edit: Link to the original post here.