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February 2nd, 2003

major objection. [Feb. 2nd, 2003|01:07 am]
I originally wrote part of this on the twentieth. At that time, Lee and Nate were having difficulties, so I stifled my dissent, not wanting to shovel human fat on the fire. They're doing well, now, so I'll strike before some other crisis arises.

Specifically, about the engagement.

When I was originally pounced with the idea, I mumbled, nodded and said I didn't have an opinion just then. Lee took this to imply approval, but it didn't. It took a little while for this all to come out, but here it is. My position.

Lee does not believe in marriage, not for her, not the way the Lutheran church practices it. She doesn't see it as an exclusivity agreement, she doesn't see it as a religious covenant. What, then, will be the meaning for her? For Nate? Nate is co-opting the symbols and talismans of his faith to mean something different---how will that work? Are there vasty (yes, I mean "vasty") deeps of cognitive dissonance aborning?

This won't appease his parents. They won't be happy unless Lee forsakes me, forsakes everyone but Nate. Mocking the Lutheran notion of marriage by refusing to accept its central tenet of exclusivity won't please anyone. Nate is co-opting the symbols and talismans of his faith to mean something they don't. And meaning is inherent in these symbols; they're backed up not only by hundreds of years of tradition and a family who believe fervently in said tradition, but by the force of law. And that brings me to my real point.

Marriage is a curious intersection of secular and religious contracts. Nate and Lee are interested in the religious aspect, the tradition, the uncomfortable suits and the two month's salary for jewelry. I could care less what sort of blue mud Nate and Lee want to smear around their navels, but marriage carries real legal meaning in this country, and that meaning is not amenable to polyamory.

Furthermore, the organizational model I proposed to Lee (aren't I just fucking sodden with romance?) did not include marriage. We'd talked about it; she seemed to think it was a good idea, though nothing, of course, had been finalized. On the other hand, the marriage idea was thrust upon me as a fait accompli, a happy event which, like everyone else, I was expected to smile and shake hands about, when I'd just been blindsided, double-teamed.

Marriage is enshrined in the law in every single state, and in every single state it's a two-person endeavour. It's a concrete legality, as anyone campaigning for gay marriage will tell you---a great deal of power is created in that arrangement. And legally, she can marry only one person. If she does, power will be unevenly distributed, no matter what promises are made. Hence, one person is gefickt. Since in no case will it be Lee, I imagine that this hasn't occurred to her.

In any organization, I believe that the question of who makes the decisions is key. If one person vehemently wants to stop a group action, can they? If one person vehemently wants to pass a group action, can they? Only one can be true. If the former, the group is powerless; if the latter, it's chaos. What say do I have over what Lee and Nate do? None, actually. I can make recommendations, I can suggest. I can prescribe actions for myself.

What is a major objection? As Lee explained the consensus process to me, a major objection should only be raised if the objector is, in effect, threatening to leave the organization.

I cannot countenance this decision. It would abrogate my rights in a permanent and real fashion. It would make me a second-class partner. There are things which I can let slide, but not this.

I major object.
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in which everyone is more reasonable than i give them credit for. [Feb. 2nd, 2003|08:38 pm]
No explosions, no threats, nothing. Lee and Nate read what I'd written, and agreed with me that I made good points, that my central idea---that marriage is not just a symbol, but a concrete obligation---is sound. Surprise! I thought and researched before I put electrons to monitor, and suddenly I'm making good points. Amazing, eh? We had a long and productive chat, and I most definitely do not feel ignored right now.

Lee has been on a roller coaster lately. She was sad, then despondent and all broken up, then somewhat frighteningly happy and pushing back her boundaries. This was, to say the least, confusing. I was struck by a sudden urge to go stick needles in Cindy, but it may be a little while before I can arrange that. Lee most definitely doesn't deal with Nate the same way she deals with me; periods of extreme stress are not soon followed by weird and new sex. Perhaps I resent Lee a bit for eating up both my worry-energy, then my envy. Not a simple feat.

The cyst that was found on my second left toe when it was x-rayed may have broken. In the worst case, it's shattered and the bone needs to be reconstructed by taking a divot out of my heel under general anesthesia. This would be followed by two months of a wire in my foot, and no jujutsu. This would, of course, be bad.

I may be getting dumber. I've noticed a lack of concentration; I've noticed an occasional absent-mindedness; I've noticed that my hands sometimes shake when I'm not paying attention to them. I might be expressing some sort of neurotic fear of losing my smartness. I don't know. This is a recurring thing; I always think I'm getting dumber.

My father and I went shopping this morning. I scored a hundred-spool for Chris. My father and I lusted at the flat-panel monitors, and he asked me to pick one out---not there, and not then, but online and for the end of the semester---for myself. It counts as a luxury, not a necessity, so by my very, very weird code of purity, it's okay to accept, it's not an expression of control. Ugh, I have issues. I also think a seventeen-inch flat-panel monitor is pants-wettingly sexy.

I hung out with Chris a lot today; he lent me his book about Leavenworth (my opinions on prisons are being wiggled a lot) and Katie showed up. I've become extremely uncomfortable with Katie being at all physical with me. True, leaping onto someone's lap and wiggling isn't exactly a casual gesture, but I think I freeze up and overreact a bit.

Crap. Diner time. I need to plan my time better. Shit. [info]sevenpapermen, I'll be back, honest!
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