nothing pHallic

it's a guy's world.

guys from playshop were here yesterday, our THIRD swimming get-together in one week. five guys plus kim. then aiza followed a few hours later. it was fun seeing kim cook hotdogs while i cooked rice or seeing jerome go loco because aiza arrived or seeing mj see us or listening to anna and jay over the phone. aiza and kim were like one of the guys and were really cool about everything, especially during chikka minutes. such fun

here's something from mcsweeney's, b.r. cohen's annals of science [something the guys who were here yesterday would understand]:

Masculine Sperm, Feminine Eggs
I don't make it a policy to personify eggs and sperm, but reproductive physiologists do. So we'll start that way. If you are one and you're from the '50s, then you probably talked about the bold, daring, macho, strong, persevering, successful—nay, triumphant!—sperm. You were probably a man, too, the scientist, so that made it easier. Your guy, the sperm, would make the harrowing journey into the feminine genital tract in search of an oh-me-oh-my egg floating perilously in the warm darkness, waiting, damsel-in-distress-like, for her savior. The egg was likely blowing the nail polish dry between toes separated by cotton balls, Gwen Stefani on her fallopian iPod.

That's what an egg would do. A personified egg. A personified feminine egg in a culture that defines femininity by passivity, weakness, and subordination.

So, here a competitive sperm would take the challenge. He'd hurl himself, with no regard for his own safety, just no regard, at the egg's seemingly impenetrable coated wall, and struggle, push, struggle, wiggle, until yes, yes, struggle, flex, yes, he makes it. He's in.

That's sex, folks. Was I too subtle?

By the '80s, sex happened differently, and it wasn't just gender-bending glam rockers. What if the biologists aren't all men, and what if this makes people see things a little differently, and what if this changes the loaded language, and what if someone notices that for every "failed" egg there were like hundreds of millions of failed sperm, that over a lifetime men "wasted" a couple trillion sperm while women lost merely several hundred eggs, and so who's the loser now, huh? And what if you looked closer and saw that the egg was pretty damn active, doing a lot of the work, coaxing the sperm, drawing "him" closer, pulling him in, then, shit, then the old personifications aren't very helpful, and maybe they actually get in the way of reproductive-physiology research, and so maybe it matters what metaphor you choose, or have foisted on you, and that's all I wanted to say about that, because I'm no biologist and I was just wondering.

me too. because things change.
it's not just a guy's world. it's for every one.

lisnin to Sasha, John Mayer, Coldplay,
sortof readin 100 years of solitude, again. i have to finish this before school starts, thanks juno
feelin kinda nice and mushy


*plus.
was goin home from ateneo on a cab when the driver suddenly asked:

ano pangalan ng Diyos?/ what is God's name?

and the paranoid-lost-lots-to-robbers-already in me was taken aback. but i had to answer cause he asked again. i said

uhm, God?!

and that's how the driver started his monologue that ended in him telling me about jehovah's witnesses and that i should visit their website.

.org ha, hindi .com were his last words.

felt good talking with him though. i don't know. some of my questions were answered like why some of the Catholic Church's teachings aren't what i truly believe.