#writing

The Supreme Court ruled in US v. Skrmetti that the state of Tennessee is allowed to ban gender-affirming care for minors. The plain outcome is bad (trans health care bans for minors are legal). The implications are even worse (who's to say you can't ban trans health care for everyone in a given state? What's stopping Congress from trying to enact such a ban nationwide?).

And worst – from a legal perspective – multiple justices outright stated that discrimination against trans people is fine (either because we haven't been discriminated against enough in the past), but the entire majority opinion rests on the notion that trans people are not a "suspect" class in terms of the law, and therefore states only need a "rational basis" for their laws oppressing them.

It's bad, y'all.

There's some pyrrhic fun to be had in cherry-picking the Court's stupider lines of "logic":

Roberts also rebuffed the challengers’ assertion that the Tennessee law, by “encouraging minors to appreciate their sex” and barring medical care “that might encourage minors to become disdainful of their sex,” “enforces a government preference that people conform to expectations about their sex.”

But it's decidedly less than the overwhelming fear and anxiety that arose in me when this was announced.

I'm going to state this very clearly: My first thought was, for my safety, I should leave the country. And I'm stating right now that anyone who does so is making a logical decision to ensure their continued wellbeing.

The executive and legislative branches now have all but full clearance from the Supreme Court to treat trans individuals as sub-citizens. We can have our medical decisions dictated for us by statute, and there's really very little logic stopping them from enacting all sorts of rules that now need only survive rational basis scrutiny – a particularly wishy-washy standard in light of the Court's ignoring or outright inventing facts and precedents to support their desired outcomes.

I’ve read at least one piece that argues against what is described as “catastrophizing.” From the perspective of not wanting people to give up the fight before it’s begun, I absolutely agree. If it’s an exhortation to rally, I’m all for it.

But I don’t want to ignore reality.

The article harkens to Stonewall, Compton and Cooper Donuts, but those are cited as tragic marks on a trail toward the perceived “good” we have it now (or had it before Trump II). There’s an implicit assumption of the notion that arc of history bends toward progress.

That’s not particularly helpful to individuals, or even groups at any given point in time.

We are spoiled, as Americans (and, more broadly, the West) in our political and historical stability post-WWII. We have not seen long periods of want or famine, and life has generally gotten better year-over-year, or at least generation over generation.

We have not (until recently) seen what happens when people collectively are gripped (or engulfed) by fear. Fear of losing what they have, fear of losing their social standing, fear that their lives as they know it are no longer possible.

But we’re seeing it now, especially on the American right. The elderly see that their retirement savings and Social Security payments no longer stretch as far as they once did, or were imagined to. Everyone sees higher prices on every possible item or service, and imagines or lives through the reality of being forced to move for economic reasons, rather than by choice.

Fear is a powerful motivator. When you’re overworked and stressed and concerned about your livelihood, you might not have the inclination or ability to do your research on claims about who’s responsible or plans that promise to fix a nebulous problem.

And there are those who will, who have, taken advantage of that.

So when I hear calls to just fight on, that our victories were forged in defeat, or most damningly:

“I do suspect they knew what we could stand to remember: you can’t burn us all.”

They can certainly fucking try. “You can’t burn us all” is not empirically correct, which is why the term “genocide” exists. And there are certainly those on the right who would certainly take it in the form of a challenge.

I don’t say this to alarm. This doesn’t mean we should give up, or live cowering in fear.

But It is important to be cognizant of the choices we make, to consider the rational possibilities, instead of comforting ourselves in aphorism. To not vilify or try to convince people that fighting for a just future courts no danger in the present.

I believe that staying is definitely a more dangerous move than leaving, at this point. But I also decided to stay, willingly, weighing everything and figuring that this is the better path for me. It is not without concern or worry; it is a decision, and a tough one, nonetheless.

I quite often find myself paraphrasing Ira Glass, most famously the host of This American Life, in his depiction of the creative process. Essentially, he argues, those prone to creativity first learn their taste by consuming the art in their desired medium. Writers read voraciously, dancers watch professionals (and those who are just very talented), aspiring auteurs devour every film they can get their hands on.

But, paradoxically, in developing their taste these emerging artists often find that, when they go to create works of their own, just … sucks. Though prodigies they may be, their work often as not carries the qualifier “for your age,” or “for your level.” Their taste outstrips their talent.

And this is where many creators fall into a hole that some of them never escape from. “I know what good looks like, and I can’t achieve it. Therefore, why bother?”

It’s a dangerous trap, and one that can only be escaped from by digging through to the other side.

I find myself coming back to this idea in the era of generative artificial intelligence. I’ve been reading story after story about how it’s destroying thought, or how many people have replaced Jesus (or, worse, all sense of human connection) with ChatGPT. The throughline that rang the truest to me, however, views the problem through the lens of hedonism:

Finally, having cheated all the way through college, letting AI do the work, students can have the feeling of accomplishment walking across the stage at graduation, pretending to be an educated person with skills and knowledge that the machines actually have. Pretending to have earned a degree. If Nozick were right then AI would not lead to an explosion of cheating, because students would want the knowledge and understanding that college aims to provide. But in fact many just want the credential. They are hedonists abjuring the development of the self and the forging of their own souls.

To me, the primary problem with using generative AI to replace communication of most sorts (I will grant exceptions chiefly for content that has no ostensible purpose for existing at all, e.g., marketing and scams) is that it defeats the primary goal of communication. A surface-level view of communication is the transferance of information; this is true inasmuch as it’s required for communication to happen.

But in the same sense that the point of an education is not obtain a degree (it’s merely a credential to prove that you have received an education), the primary function of communication is connection; information transfer is the merely the means through which it is accomplished.

So my worry with AI is not only that it will produce inferior art (it will), but that it will replace the spark of connection that brings purpose to communication. Worse, it’ll dull the impetus to create, that feeling that pushes young artists to trudge through the valley of their current skills to get to the creative parks that come through trial, error and effort. After all, why toil in mediocrity to achieve greatness when you can instantly settle for good enough?

The rules are made to be broken

There's a reason the inverted pyramid exists and has been adopted by the journalism profession as the general template for telling a story: It makes sense for a lot of them. You start out with a very specific idea and then go broad the more you write. It keeps young writers from getting too bogged down in specifics, while also making sure they're not taking the 10,000-foot view on everything.

It's a guideline ... And that's all it should be: a guide. It's not inviolate, and it's by no means the best format for every story out there. Even more so than the idea that each story should be expressed in the best format possible, there are almost zero stories where a strict inverted pyramid is called for.

The bonds that restrain us

Space was different. When you reached the edge of outer space, it made no more sense to refer to your flight in relation to earth than it does to imagine our galaxy as a geocentric one. What is up when there is no gravity? What is down when you can look up and see the earth?

Nonfiction

When he picked up, the first thing he asked me was if I had heard about Rachel. I wasn't quite sure what he meant. We were the same age, having attended the same school from kindergarten right up through college. We were both in band, we had a number of activities and classes that overlapped, and I was fairly certain I had seen her at a barbecue two days before graduating college, about three months prior.

TW: Suicide

How Sweet it is

At 4:27 p.m., Pullman shuts down. Classes are canceled, businesses will close and all eyes will be on the boys in red as they take on the boys in baby blue. Families will huddle around their televisions, office workers will huddle around their computer screens and thousands will stream into Beasley Coliseum to cheer on the Cougs with one voice.

While you were away

It's always odd, walking the streets at night when everyone's away. Without exception, by the end of the weekend before a break Pullman empties and I am left to fend for myself among the other rejects and townies. 2 a.m. is a sufficiently creepy time in and of itself. Now, it's literally quiet enough to hear the buzzing of the electric lights in their faux-Victorian lampposts.