It’s pretty confusing, even for those of us who consider ourselves to be othergendered! Me, I like “Queer”. I mean, I could break it down for ya, if you really need a label. Try this one on: I am a: Lesbian identified Stone-Femme Queer. Howz that?? My partner is a: Gay, Soft-Butch, Lesbian. She likes “Gay” while I prefer “Queer”. Still, for me Dyke, Gay, Lesbian, Lez, Lezzie, Homo, Rug Muncher; whatever… they all work. (I’m not so hot on “abomination”, though.)

Are these merely “gender identities” in a world where the cultural norms have previously been designated by a patriarchial political, religious understanding? Or is it possible that we’ve overlooked some folks in our understanding of gender as based on sexual organs?? Are there actually more than 2 genders?

As we expand the boundaries of our understanding of sexuality, desire, cultural taboos and freedom of self expression, we’re also expanding our understanding of gender. Well, maybe understanding is a bit strong. Traditional western religion would have us believe that gender is a purely dualistic/binary thing. Adam and Eve, procreation and all that. That anything outside of that is “wrong”. At worst an “abomination”, at best a mistake of nature.

At GenderdotOrgyou can find an excellent variety of gender related articles, statistical reports and more. Among the various tools there the (.pdf) Gender Variance Model and the (.pdf) Guide to Using the Gender Variance Model.

The model and guide above are teaching/lecture tools to be used to assist in gender education, so are pretty easily assimilated if one begins with an open mind and a bit of self awareness and life experience to go with it.

Readers might want to download at least the Model above, to help follow along. But the guide itself is a worthwhile read, and I’ll only be using snippets here. (It’s tiny. Only takes a couple of seconds even on dialup)

From the guide: Intro

Transgendered people are the most stigmatized and misunderstood of the larger sexual minorities (Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender). Since gender follows physical sex for most people, transgenderism and even transsexualism are almost impossible to understand by those who are not transgendered themselves. While transgendered people are most familiar with gender variant expressions and cross-gender identities, there are many other forms of gender variance exhibited by all kinds of people – regardless of their social or gender identities. Revealing these other forms of gender variance shows how common it really is – and thus provides the all-important context for understanding transgendered people.

The basic concepts are as follows:

First, we must separate sex from gender:

Sex is the physical anatomy and biology that determines whether someone is male, female, or intersexed (formerly called hermaphroditic)

Gender is a psychosocial construct used to classify a person as male, female, both, or neither. Gender encompasses all of human behavior, including sexuality.

Those people who cannot or choose not to conform to societal gender norms associated with their physical sex are Gender Variant. It is very important to stress that many people choose to be gender variant in some form and do not consider themselves ‘born that way’.

Alot of folks would fall into non traditional gender variances without even realizing it. For instance the male nurse, the female construction worker, the long haired male, the agressive/outspoken female. These are all Gender Variances, albeit small ones. Today, most of us take these gender variences in stride. Not all that long ago women wearing pants would have fallen here. As the cultural norm changes, so does the level of gender variance.

Transgender is an umbrella term used to describe visibly Gender Variant people who have gender identities, gender expressions or gendered behaviors not traditionally associated with their birth sex.

Transgender is often mistakenly understood to mean Transsexual. Transsexual people, who have undergone or seek to undergo sex reassignment, comprise a minority within the transgender population. Most transgendered people do not wish to change their sexual anatomy.

Transgender can also mean anyone who transcends the conventional definitions of ‘man’ and ‘woman’, and who use a wide variety of terms to self-identify.
Transgendered people are usually categorized by their Gender Vector, which describes the direction of the gender change. The two gender vectors are Male-to-Female (MTF), or Female-to-Male (FTM).

It’s important to clarify two common misconceptions about transgenderism :
Transgender is not a sexual orientation. However, it is a sexual identity that has become politicized, and so it is now commonly added to the list of other sexual minorities, which are sexual orientations – as in Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender.

It’s important to note that this is where alot of folks, even those within the LBGTQ community, become confused. Why does a MTF Transperson then live as a lesbian? Many people will assert that if a man believes he was born to a be a woman then s/he “should” be attracted to men. The movie NORMAL, starring Jessica Lang and Tom Wilkinson addresses alot of trans issues in a believable and touching examination of love. Why does the Butch lesbian find herself more often attracted to “straight” women who seem not to fall into the category of gender variant? Women who appear particularly feminine, as our culture perceives/defines it? Could these examples lead us to the reasoning that there is more to the question of gender than “identity”? Could there possibly be more than two genders based on biology/sex?

There’s alot more info in the guide that I’m not going to cover, and alot of resources on the Internet for anyone who cares to further explore their understanding of gender and gender identity, but this is it for today from your favorite (dare I hope?) Queer blogger.A good place to start is Gender Watch at ZNet.

I extend a challenge to you my most excellent friends and readers. Just as an excercize in self awareness. Make a list of ways that you might be gender variant. Don’t panic, my lovely straight friends, your gender variances don’t make you “other gendered”. Just a way to look into the subject based on current societal norms, and perhaps the insight will assist in your understanding of other people. Have fun and open your minds and hearts!!

Now, regular readers of Thorne’s World know, I offer you a treat. Your reward, if you’ve made it this far, (although I’m sure some of you horndogs skip to the bottom just for these links!!). Venusday erotica links. Since this is my first official post at SirensChronicles, I’ll include a little disclaimer:

the author is not responsible for the reader’s reactions to the materials in the following links. The content included may be offensive to some readers and is not intended for minors. If the reader finds her/himself getting flushed, having a rapid heartbeat or other symptoms of excitement, i
t is the reader’s responsibilty to discern whether the symptoms are indicative of the necessity of a 911 call, or of a good time.

How was that for a “little” disclaimer?!

Both of today’s selections come from textfiles.com. Your first enticing romp is a trans fantasy that would make even the straightest het’s libido rise!! (Remember folks, spaghetti is straight; until you heat it up!!)

Fantasy Cruise part 1
Fantasy Cruise part 2

Our second story is a doozie, entitled To Worship You
It’s a sexy psychological romp from the mind of a het Bottom (Switch) Playing at top in a BD/SM scenario. Juicy!!!

I’ll be back next week with more Venusday fun, so until next time, remember everybody:

So I was over at Balls and Walnuts, checking out his usually fun, (and this week, simply astounding)
Thursday Thirteen of… Numbers.

Now I realize it’s almost Venusday, and that my menopausal libido has reached yet another all time high (and kids, believe me- I thought I was a horny bitch back then, but this shit might’ve killed me when I was young!!!), but when I found my hand in my lap as I considered Doug’s numbers I had to say:

“Okay! Enough already!! What the fuck?? I hate math!!”

Or do I? Welll…. Not exactly. I hate doing math, but numbers? I can dig me some numbers! Numbers are magickal. Numbers are mystical. Theoretical and conceptual and quantum numbers are mind blowing- but I digress.

As I read Doug’s post in process, I was like, “What about Phi? (Pronounced: Fee) Where’s Phi? Somehow the beauty of Phi, (φ), is undeniable. It’s a truly magickal, mystical, and romantic number… but still rational and earthly.

I first learned of The Golden Mean in College Art Theory with my wonderful Mentor, Gene Kleinsmith. He was a passionate artist and teacher and in those days I had a devastating crush on him, and had yet to succeed in seducing him. As he animatedly described the beauty and natural perfection of φ, storming around the room, gesturing expansively, stopping to slash lines on the chalkboard, and scribble formulae… illustrating with the Parthenon, the Pyramids, trees, leaves, the nautilus, the human body… speaking passionately about the renaissance masters’ and DaVinci…

Really. Is there anything more romantic than the renaissance?

It was hot. Exciting. Romantic. Him, yes. But the thought of being able to mathematically prove the structures of nature, life, art?

Fucking amazing.

As my heart and mind flies through the memories of discovering the magick of φ, I’m transported back to Greece, walking once again the processional way up to the Acropolis… tasting the rich and salty Spanikopita, the tsatziki, gazing into the clear blue Agean to the pebble strewn white sand sea floor… The tangy scent of the olive brine that pervaded the night air of the flea market as I returned to the Hotel Alkistis finally at night, late, to have a lil nap…

Mmmmm… Demitrios,
that tall, scarred Greek God…
Vivi, my Australian bisexual party girl…
We set Mykanos ablaze and then quenched the fire with our love…

And again that pesky right hand is wandering! This time (apparently with a mind of its own) its stroking my neck slowly and heading for my left breast, as my nipples begin announcing their presence by tightening and screaming for attention.

Okay. So, I dash off a comment at Doug’s place and find myself contemplating my other 2 favorite numbers. Suddenly I’m awash in another set of memories. Memories of the loveliest girl. Memories of her beautiful face, her soft voice and her passion as she explained them to me. The way her eyes kindled over her numbers. Memories of our love…

Memories of my e. My friend, lover… girlchilde, lovelovelove.

ω (2 to the Omega), and Epsilon Naught (Eo).

That, she said, is how I love you. Two to the Omega and Epsilon Naught.

2 to the Omega is one of many levels of infinity. Unlike Doug’s, which is a sort of finite infinity, a countable infinity, 2 to the Omega is an expression of an uncountable infinity. (Our kind of infinity; our kind of love. Love that sings down through the ages and into the Universe beyond all space and time.) It’s pretty straightforward for this type of number. It’s a binary proof on a grid, like a magickal square, and no matter how you try, no matter what sequence of 1′s and 0′s you use, you’ll always miss one. Because it is, indeed, an uncountable infinity.

Epsilon Naught is a much more complicated equation, I couldn’t explain it if I tried. She could, though. My beautiful nymph, my dancing woman, my mystery… my e.

Oh hell yeah! Don’t tell me numbers aren’t sexy.
*sigh*
And romantic…

Here’s a list of cool books. The only one I’ve read a bit of is Sacred Geometry: Philosophy and Practice by Robert Lawlor

And the brilliant gem of my googling tonight: Quantum Prose. Haha!

The Pancake at the Bottom
(C) 1999 Scott Aaronson

Luminescent green stretches beneath my feet in all directions; above, starless night. I don’t know where I am or how I got here. I scream; no answer. I run; just more luminescent green. At last a minute head appears over the horizon, then shoulders, then a full human figure, hauling some heavy object. The figure draws closer, and I see that it’s a stocky old man with a duffel bag. He’s bald except for tufts of white hair above both ears and his green eyes shine almost as brightly as the surface below. I approach him. “Where am I?” I ask. The old man smiles. “You,” he announces in a raspy voice, “are on the back of a giant glowing tortoise.” I look at him incredulously. But the old man’s face is sinc ere, and given the circumstances, I might as well believe him. “Well then,” I say, “what’s the glowing tortoise standing on?” “Another tortoise, of course.” “And what’s that tortoise standing on?” “Another tortoise.” “Then I suppose there’s an infinite tower of tortoises, all the way down?” “Right.” Pause. “But where are we? I mean, where are all these tortoises?” “Aha! The entire infinite tower of tortoises, as hard as it may be to imagine, is standing on the back of a gargantuan iguana.” “Then what’s the iguana standing on?” “Another iguana.” The old man doesn’t need to tell me now that there’s an infinite tower of iguanas all the way down. And the infinite tower of iguanas, as it turns out, is standing on an infinite tower of alligators, and that on an infinite tower of three-headed Tyrannosaurs, and so on, through every kind of reptile, real or fictional, that one might imagine. And how many kinds of reptiles would that be? “Infinitely many.” “Then what is this infinite tower of infinite towers of reptiles standing on?” “An elephant.” An infinite tower of elephants, standing on an infinite tower of seven-legged Centaurs, and so on, though every kind of mammal one might imagine—of which, again, there are infinitely many. What’s more, I learn that this tower of towers of mammals is standing on a tower of towers of birds, and so on through all the animal phyla one might imagine. “And what is this infinite tower of infinite towers of infinite towers of animals standing on?” “A bottle of Tide cleaning detergent.” A tower of Tide, resting on a tower of Wisk. And this is but the top of an infinite tower of infinite towers of infinite towers of household cleaning products. “Wait,” I say, drawing a deep breath. “We started with this single glowing tortoise. Call that Level Zero. Then we progressed to an infinite tower of tortoises. Call that Level One. Then to a tower of towers of reptiles—Level Two. Then to a tower of towers of towers of animals—Level Three. And now we’re approaching a tower of towers of towers of towers—Level Four. So suppose we group together everything in Levels Zero, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, and so on, for all the whole numbers, into a collection that I’ll call X. Then what’s X standing on?” “A chewed-up piece of gum,” replies the old man disinterestedly. I give up. No matter what collection of things I name, the old man will tell me the topmost thing that all of them are standing on. So I change the subject. “What’s in the duffel bag?” “Aha! I’ve just returned from my descent into the transfinite abyss, and I took a photograph of each thing I encountered.” The old man pulls a thick photo album out of his duffel bag. “How many photos are in there?” “Aleph-one—uncountably many.” Having studied a little set theory, I know what this means. Georg Cantor proved in 1873 that there are different levels of infinity—that, for example, no matter how you pair up the whole numbers with the points on a line, there will always be points left over on the line, even though there are infinitely many of both. In 1891, he generalized this to prove that just as there is no largest number, so too is there no largest infinity—no matter what level of infinity one named, Cantor could name a higher level. A devout Catholic, Cantor believed that this result illustrated the transcendent greatness of God. And though his levels of infinity encountered vehement opposition from such nineteenth-century mathematicians as Leopold Kronecker, today they’re a standard and indispensable tool in math and computer science. The infinity of whole numbers is called Aleph-zero, or ‘countable,’ and is the lowest level of infinity. The next higher level is called Aleph-one, and is ‘uncountable.’ “Of course, you don’t have time to look at uncountably many photos,” says the old man, flipping through his album. “So pick one thing—this orangutan, say, or that mouse pad, and only look at the photos of the things above it. Of these there will only be countably many.” “But—that’s impossible!” I stammer. I’m thinking, for example, of a line: break off a section of it, and the section still has uncountably many points. “Why so? Look: if I tell you a collection of things underneath us, can you always tell me the bottom-most of those things?” “No—for example, if the collection is the tortoises, then there’s no bottom-most tortoise. They extend infinitely downward.” “Correct. But given a collection of things, can you always tell me the top-most thing?” I ponder this for a minute, before replying, “Yes. Call the collection C. Then consider all the things that are above everything in C. There must be a top-most thing, call it T, that all of those higher things stand on. Then T is the top-most thing in C.” For example, I realize, if C is a collection of reptiles, then there must be a top-most tower of reptiles—say the geckos—contributing something to C, and among these there must be a top-most gecko. “Now,” says the old man, “call the low collection the collection of all things with uncountably many things above them. What can you say about the low collection?” “Well, that there’s a top-most thing in it—we’ve established that that’s true of every collection.” “Yes. And what of some thing—a cheese cracker, say—that’s above that top-most thing in the low collection?” Light dawns. “There can only be countably many things above the cheese cracker!” I exclaim. “Because the top-most thing with uncountably many things above it is below the cheese cracker. But, the entire collection of things above the top-most thing with uncountably many things above it is uncountable, by its very definition!” “Now you see,” says the old man. “Any ordered set having the crucial property of the things below us, that for every collection of things there is a single top-most thing, is called a well-ordered set. A mathematician would say that my photo album has order type S-omega—that of the minimum uncountable well-ordered set. And though S-omega is uncountable, for any thing in it there are at most countably many things above it. And that’s why you can choose any photo from my uncountable album and be sure of finding at most countably many photos before it.” As I grasp the order governing the transfinite tower of things below me, the luminescent green world seems less strange, less intimidating. But still I yearn to know just where I am. “Is there a thing,” I ask, “that underlies the whole transfinite tower—upon which stands every collection of things I could possibly name?” The old man falls silent for a minute, before quietly responding, “There is. It’s an immense buttermilk pancake with maple syrup.” He anticipates the obvious question. “You’re not allowed to ask what’s beneath the pancake.” “Why not? It’s a perfectly valid question.” “No it isn’t. The mere fact that you can ask it doesn’t make it a valid question.” “Well, why isn’t it valid?” “Because,” he intones ominously, “you can never reach the pancake. The only way you’ve found out about the things below you is by specifying collections of things and asking me what they stand on. But whatever collection of things you name, in whatever system of logic, the whole collection will always stand on something well above the pancake. The pancake is the Absolute Infinite—forever inaccessible.” The luminescent green world that seemed comprehensible, benign, even delightful only minutes ago suddenly shocks and horrifies me. I want to return home. “How do I get out of here?” “Easily,” says the old man. He reaches into his duffel bag, pulls out a handful of dust and throws it into the darkness—and at once the two of us are floating in the center of a sparkling pink dodecahedron. “But t his isn’t home!” I cry. “Of course not. The glowing green tortoise was a dream within a dream. I’ve just returned you to the original dream.” “Well, get me out of this dream as well.” The old man complies, and we find ourselves sailing though a three-dimensional compact manifold embedded in a five-dimensional Euclidean space. I realize that I’m trapped in a dream within a dream within a … all the way down. And if I ask to escape from the infinityhttp://www2.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif of dreams, I’ll only be trapped in another dream—just as an entire infinite tower of tortoises rested on an iguana. You can never escape the transfinite. But then I awake. I gaze at the luminescent green by my bed: 7:26 AM. Hughes Dining is open. Maybe I’ll go get some pancakes.

NOTES:

This was found here

The Golden Mean (or Golden Section), represented by the Greek letter phi, is one of those mysterious natural numbers, like e or pi, that seem to arise out of the basic structure of our cosmos. Unlike those abstract numbers, however, phi appears clearly and regularly in the realm of things that grow and unfold in steps, and that includes living things. The decimal representation of phi is 1.6180339887499…

According to alot of sites, the golden mean, and the golden ratio are separate things, but I think they’re the same and this bit expresses it:

In philosophy, especially that of Aristotle, the golden mean is the desirable middle between two extremes, one of excess and the other of deficiency.

To the Greek mentality, it was an attribute of beauty. Both ancients and moderns realized that “there is a close association in mathematics between beauty and truth“. The poet John Keats, in his Ode on a Grecian Urn, put it this way:

Beauty is truth, truth beauty, that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

The Greeks believed there to be three concomitants of beauty: symmetry, proportion, and harmony. This triad of principles infused their life. They were very much attuned to beauty as an object of love and something that was to be imitated and reproduced in their lives,
architecture, Paideia and politics. They judged life by this mentality.

This is a great site.