Some thoughts on being special

I’ve known many people in polyamorous relationships who have a need to feel special, and try to meet this need by reserving certain activities to specific partners, or by placing limits on activities which their partners are permitted to engage in with others. The feeling is that by reserving certain special activities to one relationship, that relationship has something about it which is special.

I think that’s a dangerous idea, and I think that if you’re not careful, that idea can bite you in the ass.

The fact is, every relationship is special simply by virtue of the fact that every relationship is unique. It is not possible for a relationship not to be unique; every person is unique, and the interactions between any set of two people is also unique. Even if I were to date a pair of identical twins, and do exactly the same thing with both of them, and take them both to the same restaurants, and have sex the same number of times in the same position with each, those relationships would be unique. There’s no way for them not to be! Even identical twins aren’t the same person, and the quality of my relationships arises from who my partners are, not from what we do.

Preserving some kind of unique action as a symbol of that specialness is not necessary; the relationships are special, and no two relationships are interchangeable or replaceable. The value I get from my partners has nothing to do with those things we do together; person B can not rob person A of value by doing the same things that person A does.

The danger of relying on some kind of special activity in order to make a relationship feel special comes from the fact that any sense of specialness that arises from an activity or from a symbol must always be a specialness that is fragile and unstable. If my partner feels special only because I do thus-and-such with her and her alone, then she must always know, somewhere deep down inside, that that specialness can be taken away from her; if I do that same thing with another person, then her sense of specialness is gone.

On the other hand, specialness that comes from who she is rather than from what she does can never be taken away. It’s a sense of specialness that is cast in iron; it can never be destroyed and can never be dispelled; it’s rock-solid, because it does not depend on anything outside of her. Nothng I do with her or with anyone else can shake that sense of specialness, because it does not rest on anything which depends on me.

Symbols are tricky things. People often confuse the symbol with the thing the symbol represents; look at all the people who want to pass an anti-flag-desecration amendment to the Constitution, for example. These people do not realize that a flag is only a symbol; destroying a flag does not damage or in any way harm the thing that the flag represents.

It’s the same thing with relying on unique activities and other symbols of a relationship’s specialness in order to feel that the relationship is special. If that feeling of specialness relies on some tokenor symbol of that specialness, then that feeling of specialness is vulnerable, and easily damaged; it’s not a feeling of specialness that you can ever really be secure in. On the other hand, a sense of specialness that relies on no external factor is a sense of specialness far more secure.

Now, I think this is not obvious to many people, particularly to people already struggling with security to begin with. If you have invested some specific activity with your sense of specialness, and your security relies on feeling special, then giving up that specific action seems terrifying, because you may feel that if you lose this special action, you may also lose your specialness, and with it your sense of security. It’s not intuitively obvious at all that you’ll actually be more secure, both in your sense of specialness and your relationship, if you do not rely on some external factor to make you feel special.

But there it is. Relationships aren’t always intuitively obvious.

We have the weirdest goddamn cat in the world.

So while i was in the shower this morning afternoon preparing to head over to phyrra and nihilus‘ place, the cat came into the bathroom, hopped into the shower, and started rubbing against my legs and purring, apparently completely oblivious to the fact that he was getting wet.

When we first got him, he used to meow, loudly and piteously, at three o’clock in the morning. We tried to break him of the habit with a squirt gun. It didn’t work. Water holds no fear for the little guy whatsoever.

I’m glad he outgrew the meowing thing on his own.

[Friends-only] The legal implications of virus tracking

A while ago, Shelly’s computer was hit by a nasty piece of malware, which I wrote about in great length in my LiveJournal here. I removed the malware, and wrote up an extensive report about where it came from, how it was installed, how it operates, and most important, who makes money from it. This entry received hundreds of replies, has been linked to from spamfighting and virus-fighting forums,a nd prompted me to put it up on my Web site here, where it generates tons of emails.

One of those emails was from a person claiming to have worked for a company that writes this stuff. This email fills in some of the gaps in the backtracking I did, and names names. The information in the email seems to check out–for example, the company in question is a known source of drive-by spyware and adware, as detailed by Computer Associates here, so I put it up on the VX2 site.

Imagine my surprise when I get hit by a demand letter from a Canadian attorney (note: PDF file) telling me to take the page down and release information about the person who emailed me.

Fun, fun, fun.

So I’ve spent most of the day today on the phone with lawyers. I’ve taken the email off my site, and told the lawyer I’m not giving him any more information about its source; we’ll see what happens next.

On the one hand, it’s extremely difficult and expensive for a Canadian to sue an American. On the other hand, the guys who make spyware and adware do get very, very rich from it. So we’ll see.

Some thoughts on libertarianism

I’ve been thinking about doing a post on libertarianism for quite some time, but libertango has beaten me to the punch here.

I think the space aliens are trying to communicate with me

I see it everywhere–little hidden messages, secrets attempts at communication which are clearly meant only for me. They’re all around me, really. Written on scraps of paper, scrawled on the sides of buildings…I mean, what else can it be?

But I can’t figure out what they’re trying to say. Take this message, for instance, which the aliens left for me on my way to a client’s site a few days back:

What does it mean? What’s the significance of the mysterious number “452,” and where do they want me to take them to? I wish space aliens were less cryptic.

And one more quick link before I head off to bed tonight…

Stone age pornography unearthed.

The statues, which are approximately 7,200 years old, seem to shatter the idea that sex was a forbidden subject in that time. Until now, the oldest sexual scenes found by archaeologists were on frescos that date to the time of Christ.

Taking over the world is SO twentieth-century!

Courtesy of randomsynapse… why take over the world when you can destroy the Earth completely instead?

Of course, destroying the entire planet represents a nontrivial engineering challenge…just the thing to stimulate young minds!

Some thughts on polyamory, loss, and superheroes

A few days ago, I had a visit from a friend I haven’t seen in quite some time. We spent a bit of time catching up on what the two of us have been up to in the past couple of years–her move, my move, my divorce, and so on. She’d heard some of the more lurid and wildly inaccurate details of the divorce, of course–not surprising, really, as it seems like everyone within a three hundred mile radius or so has heard at least something about the situation.

At one point, she said, “Well, it must have been easier on you than on her, because, after all, you’ve got Shelly.”


Now, this is an attitude I’ve encountered before, and it seems based on a conception of relationships that’s quite foreign to me. It’s difficult to know where to begin in taking that idea apart, as it’s founded on so many tacit assumptions and unspoken ideas about the way relationships work and the way love works that it’s hard to know how to start addressing them.

The first and most obvious problem with that idea is that it assumes human beings are interchangeable commodities, like toasters or DVD players. These things provide a service; a person who has two toasters can still make bread if one of them stops working, and a person with two lovers still has sex and companionship if one of the relationships ends, right?

Now, let’s step back for a moment and think about that. Suppose a family had two young children, and one of them was killed in a car accident. Would anyone say “Well, it must be easier for you; after all, you still have another child?” I suspect anyone who displayed that level of insensitivity to their loss could expect to get smacked. We somehow know instinctively that children aren’t replaceable; a parent who has lost a child is devastated regardless of whether he or she has another child or not. We know this; yet, somehow, it’s different if it’s a romantic relationship, right?


So why is it that romantic relationships are different? Why does everyone understand that children are not interchangeable, but still assume that lovers are?

For many people, I think the answer is the same as the answer to questions like “Why would you assume that if your partner has sex with someone else, he won’t need you any more?” and “Why would you assume that if your lover finds someone who’s prettier than you, or better than you in bed (for whatever value of ‘better in bed’), it will threaten our relationship.” And that answer is related to the reason that peopl are willing to risk losing their jobs to fly out to California and picket in support of Michael Jackson.


These people are utterly convinced of Michael’s innocence because they actually feel, weird as it may seem, intimacy with Michael Jackson, even though he’s a complete stranger to them and they’ve never met him.

This sense of intimacy is as false as it is shallow; and it’s not limited to Jacko. People feel a sort of wishful, warm fuzzy sensation often–about celebrities, about their partners, about that girl in the next cubicle that they have a secret crush on. This “intimacy” is not really intimacy at all; real intimacy lets you see right through a person and down deep into what Shelly calls their “superhero soul,” past appearance and mpast superficial details and into what makes them who they are.

There’s a Simpson’s episode in where one of the children asks Mrs. Rrabapple, the schoolteacher, “How will we know when we’re in love?” The teacher laughs and says “”Don’t be silly, most of you will never know love and will marry out of fear of dying alone.” Sadly, I do believe that for many people, it’s the truth. It seems to me that the world is filled with people who don’t want intimacy, who don’t like it and don’t trust it, who don’t take the time to really see their partners’ “superhero soul” and don’t want anyone seeing theirs. Remove intimacy from a relationship, though, and suddenly people do become interchangeable. Suddenly people do become vehicles for services. Suddenly there’s nothing particularly compelling about them; “Well, Betty was a redhead who liked tennis, and Lauren is a blond who likes golf, but basically I get the same thing from both of them. Lauren is prettier than Betty, so I think I’ll replace Betty with Lauren.” And I think that somewhere, deep down inside, some people realize that they don’t have any deep intimacy with their partners; many petty jealousies and insecurities reflect this. “I don’t want my partner looking at anyone prettier than me…” (…because, really, there’s nothing particularly compelling about my relationship with my partner; my partner doesn’t really see me, and yes, my partner would replace me with someone prettier if I let him).


Once you’ve seen down into someone’s superhero soul, once you’ve cut past all the clutter and really seen someone for all they are and all they can be, then that person becomes absolutely unique and absolutely irreplaceable in your eyes. At that point, nobody can replace that person; at that point, if you lose your relationship with that person, it leaves a hole in your life nobody else can fill.

Of course, there’s a cloud around every silver lining. The downside is vulnerability; if you let someone really see you, that person knows you for who you are–good and bad. You’re vulnerable like nothing before; your relationship shines a light on all your faults and personal failings and quirks and little neuroses, and to someone not accustomed to real intimacy, I’d imagine that’s pretty scary.

Now, you might ask why someone would want a relationship without intimacy, and I’d say “for the reason Mrs. Crabapple said. Fear of dying alone.” Even a shallow relationship is better than being alone, no? So people engage in relationships that are more or less interchangeable, with partners who are more or less interchangeable, and they invest a great deal of emotional energy into making sure that their partners don’t replace them with someone else–because, hey, then they’d be alone.


Personally, I think that fear of being alone is a lousy reason to be in a relationship. If I had a partner who was willing to replace me because she found someone better looking or better in bed or (god forbid) a better cook than I am, I’d want to find out sooner rather than later. To my way of thinking, preventing your partner from talking to or spending time with other people through fear of being replaced is exactly backwards; if I’m that easily replaced, I want to know, because that’s not a relationship I want to invest in. But that pesky fear of being alone is hard to short-circuit, isn’t it? “If I lose my partner, I’ll be alone, and nothing is worse than that.

Funny thing, though. If you can look at someone and really see them, if you have developed the skills to see another person’s superhero soul, you will never be alone–it’s not going to happen. Doesn’t matter what you look like, or how good you are in bed, or even (thankfully) how good you are in the kitchen.


There is another cloud around the silver lining, though. A person who’s unique to you can’t be replaced–and that means it does not matter how many partners you have, once that person is no longer in your life, it’s going to hurt. Nobody else will make it better. It’s not about getting the things you need from your other partners; it’s not about having another toaster, so you can still make toast. A partner who is unique is irreplaceable. We know this about children; it’s time, I think, we understood this about lovers as well.

A post about music

I have a couple of posts brewing, about AI and Turing machines and human consciousness and drunken goth chicks, and about common misperceptions in polyamory. However, chipotle tagged me to do a “six favorite songs” meme, so I’m doing that instead. Without further ado, and in no particular order:

Evanescence, Lies

Evanescence is an interesting group. It’s rare to find a female-fronted pop band that has anything interesting to say, or that does anything novel lyrically or musically; it’s rarer still to find a female-fronted pop band that can successfully combine elements from many different musical genres and create something novel that still hangs together well. Their first album, Origin, is virtually impossible to find in the United States (Fallen is billed as their “first album” here in the US, even though it’s the second). Lies is a meld of old-fashioned pop and thrash metal, which works better than you might think.

Linkin Park, In the End

A lot of the music I like lives on the intersection of what seems to be radically different genres, and creates novelty out of the chaos. Linkin Park combines rap, alternative, and a dash of metal, and does it brilliantly; everything they do is good. They’re rather like Shakespeare in that regard–they really are quite good, in spite of all the people who say they really are quite good.

Sisters of Mercy, Driven Like the Snow

No list of mine would be complete without some old-school goth, and you can’t say ‘old-school goth’ without also saying ‘Sisters of Mercy’ in there somewhere, unless perhaps you’re saying something like ‘I don’t know a damn thing about,’ but I digress. I was introduced to Sisters of Mercy by an old friend’s girlfriend, during a time in the ongoing slow-motion trainwreck of his romantic life she took a moment off from cheating on him, getting engaged to someone else, breaking up with him, getting back with him, cheating on him again, cheating on him yet again, breaking up with him, getting back together with him, cheating on him again, and marrying some other guy without telling anyone, just long enough to make me a mixed tape of Sisters music. I never did thank her properly for that. Sisters is smart, danceable, witty, and takes incredible glee in playing with language.

A Perfect Circle, 3 Libras

Shelly and I have been spending a lot of time lately talking about (and she’s been writing about) what it means to be “seen” by your lover–what it means to have a partner who really gets you, who sees past all the surface stuff and right down into your superhero soul. That’s precisely what this song is about–or rather, more precisely, this song is about a person whose partner doesn’t get it. To be fair, I’d venture a guess that the overwhelming majority of the human beings walking, crawling, and driving around the surface of this planet also don’t “get” it, and have never really seen their partners or been seen by them, which is why people will say such insipid things as “Well, if you’re poly, then that makes it easier to lose a partner, because you still have another partner to fall back on, right?” But then again, on my more cynical days I think a walk through the ocean of most people’s soul will scarcely get your feet wet.

Front 242, Headhunter v1.0

What can I say? The best song to dance to ever written, by anyone, in any genre, in the entire history of humankind, period.

Apoptygma Berzerk, Burnin’ Heretic

Sometimes a little too close to home in the Theocracy of Ayatollah Bush the Second. I first heard this song some time after dumping the contents of datan0de‘s iPod onto my laptop during a party one evening, where it sat gathering (virtual) dust for some months before I listened to it, which is about the way it goes with music and me. When I did finally listen to it, I leapt from my chair and roared, “Hear me! This is the best fucking song EVER!” (Well, actually, I didn’t. But I did think “Hey, I really like this…”)

Now, according to the rules of the game, I’m supposed to tag three more people and get them to do the same thing in their journal. So, just for the hell of it (and because i do so love exercising power), I tag datan0de, latexiron, and sarahmichigan. You’re it!