Religulous

This weekend Dan and I visited our local "alternative" movie theater to see the documentary by Bill Maher titled "Religulous." The title in and of itself is fairly revealing, it is a documentary about how ridiculous religion and religious people can be. Maher talks to Christians, Muslims, Jew, and a guy who runs the church of pot. He travels all over the world to interview people; he spends time in Israel, and he visits a theme park titled Holy Land, in Florida. Over-all, I really enjoyed the film, but there were a couple of issues that I wanted to take note of.

In the beginning of the film Maher interviews a group of truck drivers at a truck stop chapel, and he asks them if they think the Bible is the word of God. He states that his belief is that the Bible is the word of man, and by man, he means men. Literally, as in people who have a penis. At this point in the film I was thinking to myself "right on Bill!" The bible was written by people with a penis, and I think this is oftentimes overlooked. Where do women fit in? They had no hand in writing or translating the text, so is it surprising that they are given very little power through the channels of Christianity? I think not. But here comes my beef with Bill - after making such an astute point about the patriarchal control over the bible, he proceeds to film his entire documentary without interviewieng very many women. Sure, there were a few he interviewed at Holy Land, and he talked to one female reporter in Amsterdam, but that was it. He didn't talk to any female pastors or religious leaders of any sort. I find this intersting - some might argue this is because there are very few female religious leaders. To these people I answer, bull shit. I happen to know not one, but two. And if an Atheist from a Red State knows two female church leaders, I am fairly certain that Maher's legions of assistants could have found some to be interviewed.

My other source of dissapointment with the film was a much more personal idea. One of the things I am most interested in is the idea that many Christians have about the end of days. Many of them (in my understanding) believe that it will be preceeded by global and economic turmoil, earthquakes, fires, floods, hurricanes, etc. Many of these same people also believe that Global Warming is a hoax, and that the government need not impose any regulations to safegaurd the environment. (Cough, Bush, Cough.) So either these people think that destroying the planet is OK, because this is what God wanted - or they believe that it is not humans destroying the planet but God. Either way, I just can't follow the logic. After the past eight years of radical right wing rule we have done more damage to the earth than I ever thought possible - and these people merely believe it is a sign of the coming End of Days. And they are happy about it!!! Becuase that means they can be with Jesus.

So, back to my dissapointment. Maher touches on this concept, but fairly briefly. I would have liked a much more in depth analysis - perhaps looking into Bush's environmental policy as funded by the Christian voting block.

But enough with what I didn't like about the film. Onto what I really liked . . . it was freaking hilarious!! Maher does a great job of finding interesting people with legitimately crazy shit to say. I also really enjoyed his comments about the need for atheists to unite as a voting block. He makes an excellent point - that the number of atheist in our country is nearly 15 times the size of the NRA. Yet the NRA pulls a lot of political pull in Congress, and with our electoral candidates. He speaks of the need for all atheists to speak up about their beliefs, and make atheism more socially acceptable. Until we are a visible minority, our political needs will never be met.

I think this is a very interesting concept. I am, for the most part, very open about my atheism. I don't think it is anything to be ashamed of or should need to hide. But I am very aware of how people will generally react when I tell them I don't believe in God. There are usually two types of people. The first will look at me in horror, as they attempt to comprehend what I am saying to them. These are generally the people who cannot understand how a person can be both moral and athiest. Immediately they will begin trying to engage me in an argument about how I am wrong and that I must really, deep down, be a Christian. Just a little bit? The other group of people won't engage me, they will instead assume that they have some sort of moral high ground and they will decide that I am an inherently flawed person for whom they should have no respect. These are my favorite types of people! There are some people who are understanding and accepting, but they are generally few and far between. So, I understand Bill's call to action that all atheists must become more vocal if we ever want to see changes made in our favor. On the other hand, I understand the hestitancy that many people feel. Atheism is not accepted by the vast majority of Americans, and I don't see that changing in the near future.

So, I highly reccomend that you see the film. If only because there is a great scene in which the leader of the pot church lights his hair on fire! I found the film to be very thought provoking, and these are concepts that I will be chewing on for the next couple of days.

Handicapped?

So Dan and I decided to go out on a hot date last night, which for us means dinner and a movie. We went to see Religulous at a little theater downtown. I may write some of my thoughts on the movie later . . . very interesting. So before the movie started I decided that I had to pee, because I always have to pee. So I walked out of the theater and into the lobby - which is very small and you have to walk right past the front door and ticket person to get to the ladies room. So the ticket person is a man - and as I am walking towards him he is staring at my belly. I don't mean politely glancing at my belly. I mean staring. A lot. Hard. So I am a bit uncomfortable, and as I get closer he looks up and smiles at me. I smile back, and he takes this as an invitation to say something. What does he say? Dialogue:

Me: Smile
Guy: There is a handicapped bathroom straight back, and you are more than welcome to use it.
Me: Smile and Nod

Seriously? Did this guy really just direct me to the handicapped bathroom? I mean, isn't that reserved for handicapped people? Does being prego qualify me as handicapped? But seriously, what was I supposed to think. Did this guy think I was too huge to fit inside the regular sized stalls in the non handicapped bathroom?

Still not sure whether I should be insulted or amused I use the non handicapped bathroom and return to my seat, where I relayed the story to Dan. Dialogue:

Me: Seriously? How is one supposed to respond to that?
Dan: Have you seen my baseball? (With lisp)

Brush those pearly whites.

So about six months ago I had a dentist appointment - and apparentaly at that time I scheduled my next appointment. That is right, I scheduled an appointment six months in advance. It is a very good thing that doctor's have administrative assistants who call you and remind you of these things, or I would have never remembered. The only problem is that I have a habit of screening my calls, if I don't recognize the phone number I won't answer. I feel like if it is somebody important they will leave me a message and I will call them back. (Note to friends: if you all me from an unknown number please leave a message) So, the dentist office had left me a couple of messages about my appointment, which I needed to reschedule, and I kept thinking I would call them back. But alas, I have a severe case of Preggy brain. For those of you who are not familiar with this disease, it is what happens to all pregnant women causing them to forget anything and everything, and making their friends and family worry that they are going senile prematurely. So, I kept forgetting to call them back and re schedule.

On Thursday I decided to step outside my box and answer a phone call from a phone number I didn't recognize. It was the dentist's admin assistant. Dialogue:

Me: Oh no I am soooo sorry I was going to call you back and I completely forgot. I can't make it to my appointment tommorow because I have a meeting at work that I cannot miss. Can I re schedule?

Other Lady: Well, I don't see how you could have forgotten, blah blah blah blah blah. (Basically, she was really pissed off that I hadn't called, and gave me a lecture about how the dentist is very busy and is booked weeks in advance, and blah blah blah blah blah.)

Me: Oh I am so sorry. Is there any way I can re schedule?

Other Lady: Well, OK. I had a cancellation for next Tuesday at 9:00. Will you need a reminder call on Monday? (I suspect that this was not an offer made out of courtesy, but rather out of sarcasm)

Me: Oh that will work just fine. Thank you so much. I was also going to let you know that I am about 5 months pregnant, I am not sure if that makes a difference at the dentist, but just in case.

Other Lady: Ooooooh!!!!! You are pregnant!!!!! Oh no wonder you forgot!!!!!! Blah Blah Blah Blah. Don't you worry about forgetting to call it is completely fine!!!!

So, it was a weird conversation. This lady was PISSED that didn't call sooner to change my appointment, but then ceased being annoyed the second I said the P word. I thought this was very strange- she actually told me I shouldn't worry about making phone calls because I should be resting.

The conversation really got interesting when I asked if I could please also schedule an appointment for my partner. Uh-oh, the other P word. Silence on the other end of the line.

So you can guess what happened next. Or at least my vivid imagination gave this woman all kinds of interesting thoughts. I patiently waited for a response, as I envisioned this woman's face growing red, thinking that I must have been artificially inseminated by my P-word, and therefor did not deserve her kind understanding of my previous failure to notify.

Lady: Oh, your partner?

Me: Yes, my partner.

Lady: Oh, um, are they also a patient here?

Me: Yes, my partner referred me to you.

Lady: OH, um, your partner?

It was a waiting game. She didn't want to ask me for HER name, and I didn't want to spoil the fun by telling her my P-word was a HE.

So, I decided that I should let spend the rest of the afternoon wondering about the logistics of how someone with a partner and not a husband had gotten knocked up. I told her that I was getting another call and would call schedule my P-words appointment when I came on Tuesday.

New to Blogging

It appears that time has worn down my resistance to blogging. Actually, it has more to do with the fact that all of my friends live far away - most of them in blue states, (sigh) - and since I read their blogs, they will feel obligated to read mine. So I have been discussing the blog idea with Dan, my partner, for a couple of weeks. Mostly, we have been debating what to name my blog. We have also been discussing what to name our unborn child - but since we have until June for that the blog name seemed far more pressing. It turns out that Dan was a little bit of help, but not much. Dialogue:

Me: What should I name my blog?
Dan: I don't know, what are you going to be blogging about?
Me: My life.
Dan: Then name your blog - DarciGraves.
Me: That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard.

This is typical thought process for Dan - he is a super geeky engineer and everything for him consists of logic, reason, and usefullness. For example, he does not find sexy shoes to be sexy, he would rather I wear snow boots because that is a far more practical choice in this part of the world.

I digress. The idea for a blog came from two different places. The first was my sister. She thought it would a great idea if I started a pregnancy blog. You know, post pictures of myself week by week, write about my cravings, how I am feeling, etc. This struck me as a very boring idea and something that nobody but my mother would really care to read. So I ignored her.

The rest of the idea finally came to me after attending Dan's company christmas party last week. Yes, I know it is January. The party was postponed due to the massive amounts of snow that we had in the month of December. (snow boots really are more practical) So at the party I had the distinct pleasure of watching as many of Dan's colleagues became increasingly uncomfortable as they searched for the proper words with which to address me. No, I am not Dan's wife. Should they say fiancee? Girlfriend? Wife to be? Baby mamma? Oh the pleasure of watching them squirm and stutter while staring at my baby bump. Of course they all have good intentions, not wanting to offend us by using the wrong term.

So a few days later I was ranting to my BFF, who also happens to be an unmarried mother in a long term committed relationship, about the "label" situation. Apparentaly her partner refers to her simply as "his lady" which works for him because he is a super artistic actor guy who can pull that sort of thing off without sounding stupid. For the rest of us, it is a far mroe sensitive subject. If we say domestic partner, or partner, people think we are gay. Which is fine with me, but then as my BFF found out, you have to deal with awkard questions about artificial insemination.

The reality is, Dan and I have been together for so long that people tend to assume we are married and I am often referred to as Dan's wife. We actually stopped correcting people a couple of years ago. What we do correct are people who refer to me as Mrs. Funke, or Darci Funke, or any variation thereof. We simply say, actually it's Darci Graves. This really confuses people in a red state, most of whom cannot imagine why a married woman would not change her name. Now I could rant for hours about the name change issue - but we will save that post for another day. So to make a long story short, I decided that blogging about being an unmarried pregnant woman in a red state was a far more interesting topic than simply blogging about being pregnant. You see, I already face enough crazy challenges simply by virtue of being a feminist in a red state - but you throw a big belly in and things start getting really crazy.