Half and Half, Hard-Wired

This is not my kind of music, but it is my kind of mission, in that I am, like the writer of these lyrics, hard-wired. I couldn't excise the missional part of me if I tried. And society loves to tell you to try whenever you make them uncomfortable.

There lies a vast ocean of difference between me and the songwriter, however. I, at least, can find kindred spirits: #SJW #MeToo #radical #disabled #LGBTQIAAlly

There are hashtags supporting the songwriter and her community (see that last one), but they exist as afterthoughts. Our ingrained habit of carving up thoughts so as not to exceed Twitter's character limit sees us deleting QIA -- communities already marginalized by "If they find out ...."

We can tell sexual and gender minorities they're beautiful and mean it. We can demand that they love themselves and stop obsessing over what the world thinks.

"If they find out ..." has more power. 

"If they find out ..." guarantees the intersex person a lifetime of dying hope. 

Friendship, relationship, meaningful work, neighborhood, community? "If they find out," the intersex person dies a million emotional deaths, and one physical one -- bloody, protracted, and brutal.

Do you, as a gender-normative person, really need to be told what to do about that? Do you really need to be told that getting over yourself could mean the difference between difficult and deadly? 

Do you really need to be told that it's okay not to "fix" someone? Do you really need to be told that it's actually humane to let sexual and gender minorities live difficult and painful lives without targets on their backs? 

Do you, in your narcissism, really need to be told that, if you let your revulsion make the rules, you should be the one with the target on your back?

Does your deity of choice create freaks that have to be hunted down, exposed for how they're made, and murdered? What about their friends, partners, spouses, since there are even fewer of those? Well?

Let me help you with that -- those of you who have souls, anyway. Lyrics, by Amanda Palmer, first. Then, video from her band, The Dresden Dolls, with "Half Jack".

Half Jack

Half underwater, I'm half my mother's daughter
A fraction's left up to dispute
The whole collection, half of the price they're asking
In the halfway house of ill repute

Half accidental, half painful instrumental
I have a lot to think about
You think they're joking? You have to go provoke him
I guess it's high time you found out

It's half biology and half corrective surgery gone wrong
You'll notice something funny if you hang around here for too
Long ago in some black hole before they had these pills to take it back
I'm half Jill and half Jack

Two halves are equal, a cross between two evils
It's not an enviable lot
But if you listen you'll learn to hear the difference
Between the halves and the half knots

When I let him, when I feel the stitches getting sicker
I try to wash him out but like they say, 'The blood is thicker'
I see my mother in my face but only when I travel
I run as fast as I can run but Jack comes tumbling after

And when I'm brave enough and find a clever way to kick him out
And I'm so high, not even you and all your love could bring me down
On 83rd he never found the magic words to change this fact
I'm half Jill and half Jack

I'm halfway home now, half hoping for a showdown
'Cause I'm not big enough to house this crowd
It might destroy me but I'd sacrifice my body
If it meant I'd get the Jack part out

See Jack, run Jack, run Jack, see Jack
See Jack, run Jack, run Jack, see Jack
See Jack, run Jack, run Jack, see Jack
See Jack, run Jack, run Jack, run Jack, run