[U184]

Is homosexuality a social environmental factor, or a genetic trait?
If homosexuality is a social environmental factor, should it be considered an improper mode of sexual expression?
If homosexuality is a genetic trait, is it a natural adaption to, to few females in a social group and therefore is natural, or a physiological flaw?
If homosexuality is a physiological flaw, is it the responsibility of medical science to offer a curative?


Another question is, even if homosexuality were a physiological flaw, one that could be cured by treatment, would the LGBT community allow such treatments to even be offered?

[onemalehuman]

Is homosexuality a social environmental factor, or a genetic trait?
If homosexuality is a social environmental factor, should it be considered an improper mode of sexual expression?
If homosexuality is a genetic trait, is it a natural adaption to, to few females in a social group and therefore is natural, or a physiological flaw?
If homosexuality is a physiological flaw, is it the responsibility of medical science to offer a curative?


Another question is, even if homosexuality were a physiological flaw, one that could be cured by treatment, would the LGBT community allow such treatments to even be offered?

Natural balance sterilizing fertile lifetimes instinctively. It is correcting a natural misalignment from reproducing the misalignment. Give instinctive knowledge credit for being smarter than theoretical intellect and artificial intelligence written as theory and theology making character matter and characteristics stupid..

[onemalehuman]

Should that be true it would need to have been something that would reproduce to take the place of the previous flawed organism, or be it its natural enemy.
.

Homosexuality isn't adapting to the environment, it is something went wrong in the environment during gestation. So that brings it to being physiological after conception but during the growth of a single cell having the lifetime's complete knowledge of functioning the elements shaping it's form and functions throughout the time it lives as an ancestor of the specific ancestry that brought it to become a total sum addition to this ever changing moment's details.

Changing how one thinks doesn't alter the instincts of the functions working as the lifetime. Taming or domesticating doesn't change the DNA going to be added to another generation that specific individual sole result becomes a parent of.

So now the discussion becomes directing a relaity or adapting to the real moment. Something I don't see anyone talking about. Gee, wonder why there is so much hate in the world where character matters and gender's don't count, even to one's self looking for a spiritual utopia.

Humanity has made human characteristics it's own greatest enemy. That wasn't my fault, I was rasied to see myself as society's child and all I found was I am only just another male gender of the human species passing through natural balances focal point between was and what arrives next forever here and always now with reality never adding up to that total sum understanding within all franchises added together.

[U184]

So then, do you advocate genetic memory?

[onemalehuman]

So then, do you advocate genetic memory?

Define genetic memory? This is where I get into so much trouble with experts, DNA is a compounding continuation.blueprint of cellular adaptation in constant contact inductively with everything else within that sphere of self contained matter.

So yes I advocate genetic memory as I view the mind not in the brain but the entire body of whatever living organism a lifetime is within plant and animal kingdoms with behavior/nature of predator or prey, moving the cellular adaptations/lifetimes of the species using male and female reproduction.

In our human species they are separate bodies male and female and that is a whole result of ancestry while in the same instant half of a next generation of human lifetimes containing that speicfic result. See where I get the idea of economics and ancestry are tied together in functioning principles. Natural balance in motion both for real and in reality's symbolism.

Humanity must end existentialism philosophies if this species is to correct human error. This is an exponential moment time never escapes from and that is why time travel is physically impossible even though it is a wonderful dream to think being able to reverse time and redo bad judgements. This sounds like I went off topic, but it is the center of all realites fighting against each other like sibling rivalries looking to become the parent's favorite child as a society of civilization in societal evlution replacing the understanding of this adapt or become extinct physical existence always present.

Good luck, this is all I can do to help humans repair humanity. My lifetime is ruled in everyone else's reality.

[U184]

genetic memory

As in, a mother wolf steps in a trap, later her offspring goes to the same place for the first time and just "knows" that the area where the trap was, is in a danger area.

economics and ancestry

I can see economic foundations within the race animal, as far as evolutionary boundaries go, where plasticity, in genetically accessible systems, would be held within the cellular memory, in both the individual and the combined racial organism.

Proof for such a concept can be found here.

I think you may take things a bit to extreme and add in some things that are not connected, but there is some merit in your musings as well. You may want to look into quantitative genetic mutation.

[onemalehuman]

As in, a mother wolf steps in a trap, later her offspring goes to the same place for the first time and just "knows" that the area where the trap was, is in a danger area.

]I can see economic foundations within the race animal, as far as evolutionary boundaries go, where plasticity, in genetically accessible systems, would be held within the cellular memory, in both the individual and the combined racial organism.

Proof for such a concept can be found here.

I think you may take things a bit to extreme and add in some things that are not connected, but there is some merit in your musings as well. You may want to look into quantitative genetic mutation.

Genetic memory is the body functioning internally, the nervous system, the organs working together as one unique lifetime within a species that isn't exactly the same details functioning the same way. The ability to process thought is genetic. The ability to translate that genetic to living mobility of the body is another. Natural balance and nature of the beast. Twoi separate dimensional values but existentially believed the equal proportion. The core of confusion.

I was thinking about this since my last post. Do you realize literal truths read from left to right and figurative values grow right to left. So when looking at numbers growing they are interpreted in reverse order. The larger is first and the smallest last. while literary grows from the smallest to largest reading in the opposite direction. That is subliminal and why it works every time. Literal truths are 0-10 and figurative are valued 0-9 but grow inversely to translation. Also literally 0 means nothing but figuratively 0 is equal substance to literal value of 1. That way both have 10 digits to read not 11 to 10 as designed by humanity's rules of grammar and symbolic exchange to give up understanding the whole moment for believing time changes everything beyond the self containment of this instant never staying the same details. Remember the literal zero is right of the decimal point. Just like comparative percentages values are always less than the whole. Finite to infinite possibilities growing from left to right getting smaller and smaller in substantive value compared to numerical zero and literal 1.

I have cracked the codes of silence in governance within don't ask won't tell policies structuring the chain of command in civilizations social architecture formulated after insect colonial mapping of hive instincts where only the Queen can populate the civilization. Humans are instinctively like the polar bear, force them to adopt collective social rules and there will always be subliminal tensions within the society. Those that understand nature and natural balance use that against those that don't want to know real completely. This is what is going on socially.

This is the definitive to have an understanding and believing what they are educated to accept as sacred knowledge within scripture and rule of law granting characters rights within might of IF with nobody knowing what is real completely. This is the substance that makes the metaphor of the devil is a trickster of words. That makes humanity Satan metaphysically. It robs each generation from completely understanding the moment of self containment where the lifetime seeks to become remember in context of history, not genetic continuation bridging ancestry into the last ancestor surviving now as always it functions regardless the faith of human lifetimes being male and female total sum additions so far here on this planet.

Again, the functions of inside each lifetime are recieved at conception, the lifetime is seeking to understand what it knew since being conceived in human form. It knows inside out because it lived the process of growing into constant shifting of details expanding from a single fertilized cell to a body born to adapt within this moment of self containment as a planet as the lifetime is contained within the skin.

Adopt an ideology is a choice, adapt to natural balance is a way to survive individually and as a family, community, and part of the food chain process where now never goes away because of a spin of the planet, orbit of the moon, revolution around the sun/north magnetic star, or the spiral of this solar system churning within this galaxy where the process works the same way universally being this now compounding results of added contracted result andded to building expanding details functioning the same way throughout the whole process.

This is where existentialism is the death of exponential understanding. By design of those making up moral codes to be incharge of whom remains in power of educating reality dictating what real will become socially.

This is the battle of gender liberty and subjective character's rights. Sociopaths ruling real with IF no body can know everything real that exists in plain sight.

[QatzelOk]

When I was a young gay, the TV told us that homosexuality was natural and normal, and that we just needed acceptance and normalization.

A few decades before I was born, doctors said that male homosexuality was a problem caused by having a bitch mother and a negligent or weak father.

I had both of these, but mass media told me that they weren't a problem - that working class slaves make fine parents.

And I can see why mass media would say that. It's owned and operated by slave masters.

[Pants-of-dog]

The condemned man showers, shaves, puts on most of a suit, and realizes that he is ahead of schedule. He turns on the television, gets a San Miguel out of the fridge to steady his nerves, and then goes to the closet to get the stuff of his last meal. The apartment only has one closet and when its door is open it appears to have been bricked shut, Cask of Amontillado-style, with very large flat red oblongs, each imprinted with the image of a venerable and yet oddly cheerful and yet somehow kind of hauntingly sad naval officer. The whole pallet load was shipped here several weeks ago by Avi, in an attempt to lift Randy’s spirits. For all Randy knows more are still sitting on a Manila dockside ringed with armed guards and dictionary-sized rat traps straining against their triggers, each baited with a single golden nugget.

Randy selects one of the bricks from this wall, creating a gap in the formation, but there is another, identical one right behind it, another picture of that same naval officer. They seem to be marching from his closet in a peppy phalanx. "Part of this complete balanced breakfast," Randy says. Then he slams the door on them and walks with a measured, forcibly calm step to the living room where he does most of his dining, usually while facing his thirty-six-inch television. He sets up his San Miguel, an empty bowl, an exceptionally large soup spoon—so large that most European cultures would identify it as a serving spoon and most Asian ones as a horticultural implement. He obtains a stack of paper napkins, not the brown recycled ones that can’t be moistened even by immersion in water, but the flagrantly environmentally unsound type, brilliant white and cotton-fluffy and desperately hygroscopic. He goes to the kitchen, opens the fridge, reaches deep into the back, and finds an unopened box-bag-pod-unit of UHT milk. UHT milk need not, technically, be refrigerated, but it is pivotal, in what is to follow, that the milk be only a few microdegrees above the point of freezing. The fridge in Randy’s apartment has louvers in the back where the cold air is blown in, straight from the freon coils. Randy always stores his milk-pods directly in front of those louvers. Not too close, or else the pods will block the flow of air, and not too far away either. The cold air becomes visible as it rushes in and condenses moisture, so it is a simple matter to sit there with the fridge door open and observe its flow characteristics, like an engineer testing an experimental minivan in a River Rouge wind tunnel. What Randy would like to see, ideally, is the whole milk-pod enveloped in an even, jacketlike flow to produce better heat exchange through the multilayered plastic-and-foil skin of the milk-pod. He would like the milk to be so cold that when he reaches in and grabs it, he feels the flexible, squishy pod stiffen between his fingers as ice crystals spring into existence, summoned out of nowhere simply by the disturbance of being squished.

Today the milk is almost, but not quite, that cold. Randy goes into his living room with it. He has to wrap it in a towel because it is so cold it hurts his fingers. He launches a videotape and then sits down. All is in readiness.

Randy takes the red box and holds it securely between his knees with the handy stay-closed tab pointing away from him. Using both hands in unison he carefully works his fingertips underneath the flap, trying to achieve equal pressure on each side, paying special attention to places where too much glue was laid down by the gluing-machine. For a few long, tense moments, nothing at all happens, and an ignorant or impatient observer might suppose that Randy is getting nowhere. But then the entire flap pops open in an instant as the entire glue-front gives way. Randy hates it when the box-top gets bent or, worst of all possible worlds, torn. The lower flap is merely tacked down with a couple of small glue-spots and Randy pulls it back to reveal a translucent, inflated sac. The halogen down-light recessed in the ceiling shines through the cloudy material of the sac to reveal gold—everywhere the glint of gold. Randy rotates the box ninety degrees and holds it between his knees so its long axis is pointed at the television set, then grips the top of the sac and carefully parts its heat-sealed seam, which purrs as it gives way. Removal of the somewhat milky plastic barrier causes the individual nuggets of Cap’n Crunch to resolve, under the halogen light, with a kind of preternatural crispness and definition that makes the roof of Randy’s mouth glow and throb in trepidation.

The gold nuggets of Cap’n Crunch pelt the bottom of the bowl with a sound like glass rods being snapped in half Tiny fragments spall away from their corners and ricochet around on the white porcelain surface. World-class cereal-eating is a dance of fine compromises. The giant heaping bowl of sodden cereal, awash in milk, is the mark of the novice. Ideally one wants the bone-dry cereal nuggets and the cryogenic milk to enter the mouth with minimal contact and for the entire reaction between them to take place in the mouth. Randy has worked out a set of mental blueprints for a special cereal-eating spoon that will have a tube running down the handle and a little pump for the milk, so that you can spoon dry cereal up out of a bowl, hit a button with your thumb, and squirt milk into the bowl of the spoon even as you are introducing it into your mouth. The next best thing is to work in small increments, putting only a small amount of Cap’n Crunch in your bowl at a time and eating it all up before it becomes a pit of loathsome slime, which, in the case of Cap’n Crunch, takes about thirty seconds.

He pours the milk with one hand while jamming the spoon in with the other, not wanting to waste a single moment of the magical, golden time when cold milk and Cap’n Crunch are together but have not yet begun to pollute each other’s essential natures: two Platonic ideals separated by a boundary a molecule wide. Where the flume of milk splashes over the spoon-handle, the polished stainless steel fogs with condensation. Randy of course uses whole milk, because otherwise why bother? Anything less is indistinguishable from water, and besides he thinks that the fat in whole milk acts as some kind of a buffer that retards the dissolution-into-slime process. The giant spoon goes into his mouth before the milk in the bowl has even had time to seek its own level. A few drips come off the bottom and are caught by his freshly washed goatee (still trying to find the right balance between beardedness and vulnerability, Randy has allowed one of these to grow). Randy sets the milk-pod down, grabs a fluffy napkin, lifts it to his chin, and uses a pinching motion to sort of lift the drops of milk from his whiskers rather than smashing and smearing them down into the beard. Meanwhile all his concentration is fixed on the interior of his mouth, which naturally he cannot see, but which he can imagine in three dimensions as if zooming through it in a virtual reality display. Here is where a novice would lose his cool and simply chomp down. A few of the nuggets would explode between his molars, but then his jaw would snap shut and drive all of the unshattered nuggets straight up into his palate where their armor of razor-sharp dextrose crystals would inflict massive collateral damage, turning the rest of the meal into a sort of pain-hazed death march and rendering him Novocain mute for three days. But Randy has, over time, worked out a really fiendish Cap’n Crunch eating strategy that revolves around playing the nuggets’ most deadly features against each other. The nuggets themselves are pillow-shaped and vaguely striated to echo piratical treasure chests. Now, with a flake-type of cereal, Randy’s strategy would never work. But then, Cap’n Crunch in a flake form would be suicidal madness; it would last about as long, when immersed in milk, as snowflakes sifting down into a deep fryer. No, the cereal engineers at General Mills had to find a shape that would minimize surface area, and, as some sort of compromise between the sphere that is dictated by Euclidean geometry and whatever sunken-treasure-related shapes that the cereal-aestheticians were probably clamoring for, they came up with this hard-to-pin-down striated pillow formation. The important thing, for Randy’s purposes, is that the individual pieces of Cap’n Crunch are, to a very rough approximation, shaped kind of like molars. The strategy, then, is to make the Cap’n Crunch chew itself by grinding the nuggets together in the center of the oral cavity, like stones in a lapidary tumbler. Like advanced ballroom dancing, verbal explanations (or for that matter watching videotapes) only goes so far and then your body just has to learn the moves.

Excerpts from the Cryptonomicon by the greatest living US author, Neal Stephenson.

[onemalehuman]

When I was a young gay, the TV told us that homosexuality was natural and normal, and that we just needed acceptance and normalization.

A few decades before I was born, doctors said that male homosexuality was a problem caused by having a bitch mother and a negligent or weak father.

I had both of these, but mass media told me that they weren't a problem - that working class slaves make fine parents.

And I can see why mass media would say that. It's owned and operated by slave masters.

So you aren't a father? Have any nieces or nephews? Life passed you by already without you even recognizing how or why. I pity your intellect beacuse you are to intelligent to have ever thought of anything yourself.