5.11.2008
5.08.2008
The Slap Heard ‘Round the Country
I don’t think I’m gangsta enough to survive in
Back in my day (be quiet, I know my day ended like yesterday), it would go down like this. A girl would talk shit about another girl or group of girl one of three ways: in a note, on the phone, or on aim. This of course always got back to the other girl, and the result would either be girl B talking about girl A, girl B confronting girl A and in very rare cases, girl B physically fighting girl A. What would not happen is a gang of girls attacking one other girl… and then taping it … and the trying to put that trash on the internet for everyone to watch.
The attack was described as “animalistic”. To be clear, the fight was like none I’ve ever seen. The girls took turns attacking Lindsey in an attempt to make it fair. As ride-or-die as they were to beat Lindsey’ s ass they were very careful not to knock into the china cabinet. The beat Lindsey for 30 minutes – thirty minutes! That’s a long time to be doing anything. I didn’t know that teenagers even had attention spans that long.
I will say, they were committed to getting their message across. If I’ve learned anything from this it’s that you can’t call girls “sluts” on myspace or you just might get your ass beat. Worse than Ike beat Tina, ok that was wrong, but they did beat her down pretty bad.
And then they weren’t even worried about being charged. They joked about missing cheerleading practice and not going to the beach. I mean, really? You knock a girl unconscious (twice) and continue to beat her, you don’t let her leave until you’re done beating her, you catch the whole thing on film and don’t expect anything to happen? Cheerleaders are tough like that?
According to CNN, the ladies (should I even call them that) will be charged as adults and face life time sentences. Yeah, that means you’re missing cheerleading practice. And prom. And graduation. Oh and guess what, the rest of your life. And for what, because some chick called you a slut. Wow. And Lindsey is left with blurry vision and she can’t hear out of one of her ears.
I don’t really understand why anyone is so surprised that girls would resort to violence. It’s not new and it’s not uncommon. Don’t believe me? Do a search on youtube. Yeah, it’s a craze of sorts. Now the reasons why one would want to tape and post a fight, well aside from gaining some street cred, I don’t really know. I don’t know that men find fighting sexy. I don’t think you’ll be getting additional acceptances to college because you can stomp another chick into the ground. And it won’t get your ass into heaven. So who do we blame for this (hey it is the American way)? Is this their parents’ fault? Should these girls have been spanked when they were younger? Maybe they didn’t get enough attention. Or maybe they were just really bored.
Ya’ll spend too much time worrying about gangstas and thugs and we really need to be worrying about these cheerleaders. I know I am.
5.06.2008
'Extreme Pornography'
The UK government has recently moved to criminalize both production and consumption of porn that it deems "grossly offensive and disgusting." Clause 63 of the new Criminal Justice Bill defines this kind of porn as containing "real or pretend" acts which: (1) threaten a person's life; (2) may result in serious injury to the breasts, anus and genitals; (3) involve sexual interference with a human corpse; and (4) contain a person performing intercourse or oral sex on an animal. The law will effectively ban most ‘violent’ pornographic depictions, as well as images and stories featuring necrophilia and bestiality.
Is this law an intrusive policing of sexuality that will end up criminalizing most adult-consensual BDSM online communities? Or will it help to reduce violent sexual crimes, as the government claims?
If we accept the constructivist contention that sexuality is constituted by social discourses, it would appear that the UK government might have a point. Our sexual “natures” are not the expression of some internal, bio-psychological state, but are instead effects of cultural production. Thus, removing a key source of words and images that construct violent sexual desires will reduce the incidence of those desires. Presumably, if sexual violence is not craved, then it is much less likely to be implemented non-consensually. Banning ‘extreme pornography’ will reduce the amount of rapes, murders, kidnappings and tortures that are of a sexual nature.
Although this perspective appears to make intuitive sense, it represents a highly flawed and immature understanding of social constructivism. First of all, banning violent porn is not going to eliminate violent sexual desires. Violence is so much a part of our art, cultures, religions, history and daily life that eliminating the sources by which violent sexualities are constructed would require a censorship program of Stalinist proportions. Millions of paintings, movies, history books, works of fiction, holy texts, government policies etc… would have to be eliminated in order for this ‘purge of violent material’ to be truly successful. Eliminating violent sexual desires is as impossible as eliminating all instances or depictions of violence that might inspire those desires.
Furthermore, what is so bad about violent sexuality if it is practiced in an adult-consensual context? It is certainly a much more ethical alternative to violence as it is usually committed. What is more immoral? Torture and humiliation at the hands of Saddam Hussein’s henchmen, U.S. authorities at Abu Ghraib and Nazi ‘scientific’ experimenters? Or the same kinds of activities in an adult consensual framework, in which there are codes of conduct (such as ‘safe words’) that can ensure safety and security for all practitioners? Most violence is committed on a non-consensual basis, and it is that violence that is most morally questionable. Pleasure through consensual violence can be unproblematic if there are sufficient safeguards for the health of all concerned.
Thus, if the government were truly interested in providing some kind of regulation for ‘extreme pornography’, it would do well to pass laws that bind producers and consumers of such porn to accept an adult-consensual and safe framework of activity. For instance, requiring porn producers and users to sign statements about the necessity of adult-consensual safeguards in violent sexual situations would be a major step forward. Another useful policy is mandating that violent porn websites have to feature at least one page that lists guidelines for safe and healthy BDSM. If the government is actually concerned about people who want to practice violent sexuality, then it should enforce these kinds of regulations. The government should also avoid passing measures that would inhibit BDSM parlors (which usually have very well developed standards of collective safety and rule-enforcement) from practicing. In the 1990s, “decency laws” in many Western countries forced BDSM establishments to shut down or disperse to isolated parts of town. Thus, violent sexual cultures lost major institutions that encouraged adult-consensual and safe behavior.
Another issue that practitioners of violent sexuality should be aware of is the implications of structural violence in society. Women, racial and sexual minorities are frequently the subjects of systematic violence. Eroticizing sadism against these particular groups is, thus, highly problematic: sexist, racist, homophobic and ableist discourses can perpetrate sexuality, as they can any other social practice. I am certainly not advocating for a ‘ban’ on BDSM practices that reflect patterns of social dominance. Rather, it is simply necessary for the participants in such practices to be aware of the social implications of their actions. There is a risk that social oppressions reproduced in sexuality can feed back and reinforce dominance in the wider social realm. Practitioners of violent sexuality should at least be aware of this risk.
Overall, the UK government’s move to ban ‘extreme porn’ is a mistake. It is not going to contribute to a reduction in violent sexual crimes. If the government is truly interested in regulating ‘violent sexual practices’ (and ensuring the safety of its citizens), it should use ‘extreme porn’ websites to spread awareness about adult-consensual and safe BDSM practices.
***For More Information***
The Wikipedia page on ‘extreme porn’ has a surprisingly good summary of the concept as well as an insightful analysis of the debate around it. Also, check out the following articles: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/magazine/7364475.stm
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/uk/article1527806.ece
In addition, take a look at this very interesting ‘diagram’ of various kinks and fetishes: http://www.trevoroldak.com/uploads/fetishmapbig.gif
For a useful analysis of how ‘decency laws’ have forced the closure of BDSM establishments that encouraged safer sex, adult-consensual practices and ‘healthy play’, check out Michael Warner’s excellent book, The Trouble With Normal. I have also dealt with a similar topic in a previous post.
5.05.2008
Deconstructing my father
My father has largely been a source of negativity in my life. My parents divorced when I was 3 years old and my time with him from that point onward has basically been divided into three time periods: 1) ages 3 to 15 I was afraid of him and hated him and was afraid of becoming like him 2) 16 through 20 I forgave him for being a bad father and understood the things in his life that led him to be the fucked up man that he is 3) 21 to present I’ve been somewhat actively trying to pursue a positive relationship with him on an adult level, treating him as an equal and demanding the same in return.
My father’s main problems have always been his ego, his greed, his verbal abuse, his short temper, and his self-centeredness. His life has been countless failed attempts at artistic (mostly film) projects trying to get whatever he wants at any cost regardless of how it affects those around him. He likes to feel in charge, he likes to lead the pack, but really he’s just an immature kid trying to assume the role of the alpha-male which is the position he was in throughout his childhood. He was the oldest of 8 children and was forced into being a third parent and taking care of his 7 siblings denying him his natural growth as a young boy. His father was physically abusive to him, and generally he has had a fucked up life with a fucked up family: drugs, death, suicide, being poor, prison etc. all of which contribute to his inner turmoil. Since he was male and the oldest he was taught to be strong and take control of others from a very young age and if he didn't he was abused or punished until he did.
On the positive side of things he is a very good director. He is politically savvy and very down to earth, smart, and easy to get along with when he isn’t wrapped up in his ego. He has directed many independent videos/films, and written a number of articles. Only a few of his projects have generated any real income but all have had moderate critical success or were enjoyed by those who had access to them.
My mother left him because of verbal abuse and because of his complete economic and emotional selfishness. He is THE typical story of a self-centered artist. His occasional film or video gig bought him enough food to slide by while my mom paid for rent, myself, and everything else. Divorcing him was most definitely the right choice for her and I.
When I was young I was really terrified of him. His bouts of anger often reduced me to tears, he was insulting, mean, and horrible. He had virtually no respect for me one moment and after the tirade was over he would apologize later but never change his behavior on any real fundamental level. It was only when I became a teenager that I really began to pity him instead of hate him. He was and is a failure in his own eyes, his family's eyes, and in society's eyes. He never had a chance to have a normal childhood as a basis for his life and he has built such an ego around himself he sabotages his own work because, for him, it never lives up to the acclaim he feels it deserves.
He has aged and with it I think has come the slow understanding that he has really fucked his life up. He has let down my mother. He has let down me, his son. He has let down his siblings he was supposed to help raise, most of which are fucked up, dead, or barely getting by. But instead of intrinsically changing the life set out for him by his socially constructed gender he uses that same structure to do the only thing he knows how to do: start project after project and hope one takes off, generates lots of money, and use that money to solve his problems. This will never happen and money doesn't solve problems. Even a modicum of success does not make up for decades of bankruptcy and emotional detachment. Due to this I have always had a shallow and tenuous relationship with him. My whole life I acknowledged his character flaws and even though I knew there was a real person in there I knew I would probably never truly see it. I would never really reach HIM, just the bullshit he uses as a facade to cover up his emotions and insecurities.
I was wrong.
During his most recent short film he was, as usual, hoping for the best. Seeing the world through the lens of his gender he saw the answer to his problems lying in becoming a successful alpha male: money, fame, and power. This would be it - this is the big one, it's going to make him $10,000 each week once it takes off and becomes a feature-length hollywood production that he will direct. He'll be famous and never have to work again. I saw the final product and it was beautiful. It was intelligent, sweet, and incomprehensibly optimistic about the world and the human race. It was political and revolutionary. And like most revolutionary pieces of art, it didn't do well. After a month of good reviews and sub par audience attendance at an independent theater the final showing came. The credits rolled, the movie ended, the crowd left, and I found myself standing outside the theater doors knowing something was wrong. The manager of the theater, a friend of mine, came up to me and said that he had just learned, because of the lack of ticket sales (let alone the lack of producers coming to throw money at it) my father wasn't able to pay the theater for the month of showings. He was in the process of letting the owner know that he would pay as soon as he got the money but that he didn't have it now. During my realization of how serious that was the doors opened and I saw my father, his face covered in tears, his voice barely audible, look at me and the manager and barely croak out a single word: water. He closed the door as the manager ran off to find him a bottle of what he requested and left me in shock.
I had known my father for almost 25 years and I had never once seen him cry. I'm sure he had here and there, but it was rare and I had certainly never been witness to it. In that one moment of pure vulnerability I completely and finally understood him. It was a culmination of all the understanding I had done over the last decade. He was fucking alone. He never had a normal childhood and he had never matured because of it. He didn't know how to relate to people unless he was bossing them around. He had taken every last shred of his positivity, his happiness and creativity that he had buried inside of him - he took it past fucked up layers of anger and abuse he had suffered and poured it all into this one work of art; a story of a young man trying to do something good with his life. Something he, having dropped out of high school, having been a parent since he was born, having never been taught how to have a non-dysfunctional relationship to people and society and women, had never been able to do. And not this movie alone but he had poured his heart into his work before, and had seen it all fail. He never had a chance, and maybe he could have been lucky enough to work past his problems earlier in life but can I blame him that he didn't? Can I blame him that his salvation of money, power, and fame was created by viewing the world through the lens of his own socially constructed gender? How many men are lucky enough to have a radical feminist critique present in their own lives so that they can smash their inner patriarch?
So, in a moment of pure unabashed emotion I forgave him for all he had done. I hadn't forgotten it, and I don't let him get away with it when it still happens, but I forgave him. I felt love for him and for the first time in my life I wanted to call him dad instead of his first name.
My dad is the failure of the male gender in a world that builds men up knowing most won't succeed. He is the powerless working class man, he is the self-centered artist, he is the failure of the education system, the long lost first born child, the abusive father, he's a thousand stories and male stereotypes and more rolled into one. Society failed him so he failed those closest to him. Patriarchy built him up and patriarchy tore him down. The problem with gender archetypes is that they aren't real life. A man can't succeed when there's a corporate empire trying to control him. An artist can't express himself when one needs so much money just to have a place to live. A father can't raise a family when he was never raised himself. A husband can't have a healthy marriage if he never knew one was possible. A man has to fight to be a feminist because he's led to believe he is something else: that he's a man instead of being a human being.
Seeing the world through the lens of patriarchy is deadly. Seeing it through the lens of feminism is liberating. I don't think it's too late for my father, I don't think it's too late for anyone, but I know that if he ever wants to release his anger, his sadness, and create a real future for himself - one filled with love and peace, not money and power - then he has a lot to own up to and a lot of work to do. Maybe I'll try and talk to him about it if I can muster up the strength.
5.04.2008
5.03.2008
The Guppie Life: Young, Gay and ... Married?
A.J. joins us from The Guppie Life:
The New York Times magazine wrote an article about gay marriage amongst the twenty-something set.
One thing I’ve noticed in my few years as a gay boy is that millennial gays generally seem to want to get married some day, and they’re confident that it’ll be legal in their lifetimes. They want to have kids, a house in the suburbs, and a Golden Retriever. Maybe a Cocker Spaniel.
Gay boomers have their own established culture. In my experience, they don’t want a wedding, and they don’t want to register at Crate & Barrel. Kids aren’t even a consideration (unless from a prior hetero relationship), and oftentimes partnered gay boomers maintain separate residences.
(This is all highly subjective conjecture, based on the few older couples I know personally and what I read in the gay blogosphere. Please feel free to send counter-examples.)
A few older gay guys I know have derided me for wanting a monogamous marriage to a man. They say only, “You’re young and idealistic. You’ll understand when you’re older.” I think the implication is that these men have some sort of sexual arrangement with third parties.
That kind of argument doesn’t fly with me. I might be young, but I know what I want. After coming out, it didn’t even occur to me that I wouldn’t settle down and get married. I can relate to the desire for stability and legal validation expressed by the men from the NYT article.
After all, gay guys of my generation were raised on headstrong Disney heroines who ended up happily ever after with their princes. Why shouldn’t we expect the same for our own lives? Ariel mournfully singing about not fitting in and wanting something more… that was me, only at eight years old I hadn’t quite realized it yet.
Even so, I’m generally freaked by the idea of marriage, gay or straight, before the age of 30. The kids in the NYT article look like Pod People (or Log Cabin Republicans, whichever is worse). They’re too saccharine, and the photos accompanying the article are deliberately evocative of Leave It to Beaver. They look like they’re trying too hard to impress.
Maybe I’m cynical because I’m a child of divorce. Most of my friends growing up had divorced parents. Every member of my family in my parents’ generation has been divorced at least once, and we even have a family pre-nup.
I might be young and idealistic about gay monogamous marriage… but I am so getting a pre-nup.
5.02.2008
Forgetting Judd Apatow
Why is Judd Apatow so obsessed with demonstrating the profound idea that average joes deserve love? First, we met the loveable virgin Andy in 40-Year-Old Virgin. Then it was slacker stoner Ben in Knocked Up. Then Evan and Seth in Superbad. And finally some dude in Forgetting Sarah Marshal. At this point, I feel like I’ve heard the story enough; do I really want to shell out the $10 for a movie ticket? Each storyline includes some confused average guy that ends up finding some gorgeous, smart, sexy, wonderful woman to fall in love with him and show him the way. And the world rejoices because normal people deserve love, too.
Oh wait – normal, straight white males deserve love. Love with gorgeous straight white women. And once they find this love, it’s as if they found their way. As if these women somehow saved them and helped them become functioning, adult men.
I appreciate Apatow’s rose-colored view of women; they are all smart, beautiful, perfect, gorgeous, together, pretty and able to look past physical normalcy. Did I mention beautiful? Sure, there were flawed female supporting characters, but they didn’t get nearly as much screen time as the many normal-because-of-their-flaws men.
In Apatow’s world, the men are allowed to be flawed, and by flawed I mean average and normal. They say stupid things. They play with action figures. They smoke pot. They wander around town carrying beer in empty detergent bottles in hopes of getting in to the cool party with the cool girls. They are able to act like “guys” until the perfect woman comes along and shows them how to be grown-ups.
At first, I thought it was nice that Apatow portrayed women in such a flattering light, especially compared to the normalcy of his male characters. These women were smart, confident and could see beyond their partner’s shortcomings and accept their men for who they are. They had successful careers as small business owners or entertainment news reporters (and I understand this Sarah Marshall character is a movie star?), whereas their guys were salesmen or unemployed.
But then I started to feel inadequate. Men in Apatow’s world are able to be insecure, dopey, lacking goals, etc. But not the women. They were perfect. If they were normal, who would be the strong figure to save Apatow’s men?
Perhaps Apatow too will grow tired of this same storyline, and turn the tables and write movies where normal guys fall in love with normal girls. Wouldn’t that be crazy? Or where gay people exist outside of the blunt end of jokes that reveal troubling and unresolved aspects of a character’s insecurity.
What gives me even more pause isn’t just these perfect-women-and-their-flawed-men, but the fact that I have not come across a single column or criticism pointing out this weird gender bias. Maybe I haven’t been looking hard enough, or maybe we all secretly wish we lived in a world with perfect women. But either way, I’m starting to feel like I don’t measure up. Whereas if I were a guy, I would.
5.01.2008
AskFannie: Tough Love!
Dear Fannie,
My best friend and I have been really tight for a really long time. Like, eight years. But recently he's started to get into some things that aren't good for him. The other day, I was having a party at my home and he was over and brought a few friends. I didn't mind because they were nice, cute, and sociable. So... what the heck. But, then, I found out that my friend had a pack of cocaine on him. And I later discovered the guys he brought over were his suppliers. I'm not sure if he got high at my house, I was furious with him and I haven't been speaking to him. But I'm really concerned. What should I do?
Frightened For Friend,
FFF,
I'm sure you don't need to be told that your friend is entering risky territory. And while I affirm everyone's ability to choose one's own path, it's also important to make sure that one's choices and decisions are not negatively affecting anyone else. The fact that you all have been good friends for so long probably means that you have a hard time thinking badly of your cozy companion as a coke-snorthing comrade. I don't care how uncharacteristic this is of him, or how much you don't want to butt in, but the facts are is that he is snorting up and you've got to set boundaries.
Friendship is a two-way street. Live and let live is a fine idea, but not when it's live and let your friend bring his cocaine-dealing-posse into your home and walk all over you. True, a good friend will always be there, but sometimes the best friend you can have is the one who will tell you to your face that you're being an asshole and give you a good hard slap.
You have every right to be angry. No matter how close y'all are, he does not have the right to bring drug dealers (no matter how nice and cute) into your house without having first explained the situation and asking you. You have a right to safety and he violated that trust.
I'd advise that you continue to support and offer unconditional love. But establishing clear boundaries can be hard. So be prepared to face some anger, there is little else that a druggy hates more than being judged. But be resolute. Tough love is the hardest kind, but often the most beneficiary. Tell him that you forgive him this one time, but if he ever brings drugs or drug suppliers into your home, you're going kick him out.
Also, be ready to face the fact that he might need more help than a good friend. He may need professional help. The good news is that as a friend you can help by getting him the professional assistance that he may need. Yes, it's up to him to partake in whatever program or assistance is offered to him. But it doesn't hurt to offer. But most of all, make sure that he doesn't endanger you, your family, or your other friends. Because when it comes down to it, if he isn't willing to accept your help, then he can't be helped by anyone but himself.
Fiercely,
Fannie
send your questions to askfannie@belowthebelt.org
4.28.2008
Coming, Part III
That first night together ended up being our last. As quickly as Chu’s interest in me had materialized, it had disappeared—and not for reasons that I’d have ever imagined.
There were never any clues that anything was wrong—or maybe wrong is too judgmental of a word. There were never any clues that anything was not right. His passion seemed clear and true. The evening we met, we made out on my couch and moved to my bed; there were no doubts about it: I observed physical proof that he was—well—moved. He had worked hard for this, had been forward with expressing his interest and flirtatiousness for more than a month prior to the evening we locked lips. Finally, at our serendipitous meeting, he was getting what he wanted—and I, well, I was reaping the benefits: a Friday night frolic for my sheets, the attention of a guy who seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, enough sparks to hint that butterflies could’ve been waiting at the end of this moment.
I don’t know how long we were there or how long it took me to come to my wits. After his scruff brushed against my clean shave and our hands began to wrinkle our clothes, he positioned himself atop me, both of us still decently dressed, but with our minds wandering elsewhere. I hadn’t found this in months; a resident of rural Arkansas, he hadn’t found this in longer: the sought-after temptation of lingering fingers and tongues, lost to reason, surrendered to “Why not?” It would be easy to keep going, to feel good, to make him to feel good, to light the easy lust of here and now…
That’s when I did the unthinkable: I said stop.
Wary of moving too quickly and the potential of the moment to be a simple vent for the unsexed, I drew back. I opened my mouth and let my rationality dribble with hesitation and righteousness: I liked the promise of this situation too much to let it explode on the night it first began. We had to slow down. We had to stop.
I thought about the excuses that he’d use to retort: A fear of risk. Prudishness. Blue balls.
Instead, he reciprocated perfectly with an equally reasoned, “You’re right.” We brushed our wrinkles off our clothes. I drove him back to his hotel and let our respective Jiminy Crickets cut our night short… but not without a final kiss goodnight.
The next day, like any evolving crush, he texted. He called. We talked on the phone for an hour. By Saturday night, I was convinced: the butterflies were coming. Although he was boarding a flight back to Arkansas the next day, I knew he’d be back in two weeks for another conference. This was not over yet.
At work on Monday, I was completely distracted. The possibility of something fun, flirty, and maybe even meaningful on the horizon was one that I couldn’t shake off. In the middle of the day, I decided I’d take a page from his playbook and email him something completely raw, honest, and forward, a simple line to echo the sentiments I perceived from him during the weekend: Hey Chu, Can’t stop thinking about you. Give me a call back and let’s plan a date for your next visit. I figured this was something he’d appreciate. He had been transparent over and over again; it was my time to try his strategy. Maybe my walls of shyness and safety had been wrong all along.
4:30pm. Cell phone rings. Caller ID: Chu.
I pick up. My voice: careful to be nonchalant.
Me: Hey.
Chu: Hey, how’s it going?
-Good, just here at work, still—working.
-Yeah, I’ve had a long day too. I got back in late last night and still made it to work today. Sorry I didn’t call you last night like I had said I would.
-It’s okay.
-I just got in too late and didn’t want to wake you up.
-I was up, but I understand: you’re still recovering from that big conference. You need your sleep.
-Yeah.
-But hey, you’re calling now, so it’s all good. Oh, and hey, I sent an email a few hours ago.
-Yeah, I saw—
-Did you read it?
-Yeah, and that’s why I wanted to call you.
-Uh oh.
-Don’t give me that uh oh.
-Well you sound like you’re about to say something important.
-Well…
-Just say it.
-Well, okay. I thought about everything we talked about on Friday night and on the phone on Saturday. And I had a lot of fun hanging out and talking with you. I think you’re a great person, and I really look up to you with everything you’re doing your life…
-Mmhmm…
-But, um, I think that when we decided to slow down—
-Yeah?
---that was the right decision.
-Oh?
-Yeah. I’ve been thinking about what you said—about making sure I don’t do this because I don’t have anyone here in Arkansas…
-Yeah?
-…and, I think you were sort of right.
-What do you mean?
-Well, I think—that—I’m not quite sure—that—I think—I’m more – into women. And… it’s complicated. I’m sorry.
4.27.2008
Housekeeping, 4.27.08
Please join me in welcoming intellectualjailbait, addition to the team!
Sincerely,
ts
(...to the full post)
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