Procreative redemption
May. 12th, 2004 12:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pyesetzWhen I was a youngster, I would occasionally meet people who couldn't quite figure out *what* I was, but they were certain it wasn't human. "A walking encyclopedia of solutions looking for problems to solve" was one of the nicer comments, although the image of a book with legs, eyes, and a mouth wasn't very handsome.
Computer terminals used to offer "type-ahead". If you typed something when the computer was busy, it would remember your keystrokes invisibly, then display them when it was ready for input. Sometimes I would type 100 keystrokes, including perhaps 20 uses of the DELETE key and ending with ENTER to commit the text I hadn't seen yet. When the computer got around to displaying what I had typed, and it was all correct, I thought that was pretty good. But a coworker told me that it was inhuman. No person could do what I did, so I must be a robot or an alien or something, but not human.
Kids I had never met before would point to me and say, "It's Mr. Spock!", although my skin is not green and my ears are not pointy and I do not raise only one eyebrow. To the best of my knowledge, I have no ancestors from the planet Krypton or Vulcan or anything like that. I come from 100% Terran stock.
Several times I walked by people I did not know, who looked at me and started humming the same song with a repetitive cadence, as if they could not watch me moving along without thinking of that robotic beat. As far as I know, my body design is 100% organic and contains no cyborg elements.
I felt a little more human after I got married. There's something about that official ceremony that sets off a cascade of brain hormones to make the relationship with one's mate more real.
But nothing compares to that first offspring. I impregnated a woman! The result was not some monster fetus that died instantly due to genetic incompatibility. It looked quite normal on ultrasound. The doctors asked if I wanted a boy or a girl. I said, "human". They thought I was joking; perhaps I was. At birth, my baby girl looked like a cross between me and her mother. I can make a human baby! That proves I'm human, and no one can take that away from me.
I can now comfortably wade into the Furry Fandom and pontificate about the nature of the animal soul. Now it is easy for me to deflect the taunts from trolls who cannot figure out what it means to me to play a dog character on the Internet--their snarls cannot hurt me, because I'm a daddy; I'm a more complete human than they are.
My son turned 6 recently. I didn't get him the fishing pole. He doesn't seem to mind too much. He likes his new Shrek 2 computer game.
Computer terminals used to offer "type-ahead". If you typed something when the computer was busy, it would remember your keystrokes invisibly, then display them when it was ready for input. Sometimes I would type 100 keystrokes, including perhaps 20 uses of the DELETE key and ending with ENTER to commit the text I hadn't seen yet. When the computer got around to displaying what I had typed, and it was all correct, I thought that was pretty good. But a coworker told me that it was inhuman. No person could do what I did, so I must be a robot or an alien or something, but not human.
Kids I had never met before would point to me and say, "It's Mr. Spock!", although my skin is not green and my ears are not pointy and I do not raise only one eyebrow. To the best of my knowledge, I have no ancestors from the planet Krypton or Vulcan or anything like that. I come from 100% Terran stock.
Several times I walked by people I did not know, who looked at me and started humming the same song with a repetitive cadence, as if they could not watch me moving along without thinking of that robotic beat. As far as I know, my body design is 100% organic and contains no cyborg elements.
I felt a little more human after I got married. There's something about that official ceremony that sets off a cascade of brain hormones to make the relationship with one's mate more real.
But nothing compares to that first offspring. I impregnated a woman! The result was not some monster fetus that died instantly due to genetic incompatibility. It looked quite normal on ultrasound. The doctors asked if I wanted a boy or a girl. I said, "human". They thought I was joking; perhaps I was. At birth, my baby girl looked like a cross between me and her mother. I can make a human baby! That proves I'm human, and no one can take that away from me.
I can now comfortably wade into the Furry Fandom and pontificate about the nature of the animal soul. Now it is easy for me to deflect the taunts from trolls who cannot figure out what it means to me to play a dog character on the Internet--their snarls cannot hurt me, because I'm a daddy; I'm a more complete human than they are.
My son turned 6 recently. I didn't get him the fishing pole. He doesn't seem to mind too much. He likes his new Shrek 2 computer game.
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no subject
Date: 2004-05-12 09:50 am (UTC)uhh... I know people who do that.
Hell, occasioanlly, I do that.
That guy musta had a 30WPM...
Or less...
no subject
Date: 2004-05-12 10:10 am (UTC)Thanks for commenting! The crickets were starting to chirp rather loudly.