Housekeeping, 4.13.08

+ news +
Queer woman in NYC?,
feminist porn,
and gender inequity in Whoville for the week.

Ubergratz to tokenstr8dude for his post; please welcome him to BTB!

Sincerely,
ts

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So What You Are Saying Is That Even If I Take My Clothes Off, You Won't Pay Much Attention To Me?

So. You wake up in the morning; you blink your eyes and press the snooze button on the alarm clock. You walk to the bathroom, you do your morning cleanup routine, which may or may not include plucking a hair out of a mole, tweezing that unibrow, or squeezing a zit until it bleeds. You leave the bathroom, you go downstairs, you eat a bowl of cereal, say, Cheerios, or if you’re a hearty American, Cocoa Puffs with chocolate milk. You yell goodbye as the backdoor slams shut behind you, you mount your bike, you pedal, you get to school, you walk into homeroom a minute late because you took that extra minute to untangle your headphones, and everyone is staring. You think, yes, I’m late, I know already. They whisper and chuckle and Ms. Brown clears a throat a little but still keeps a wide-eyed librarian gaze on you. You look down.

Fuck. You’re naked.

A nightmare of that nature, like a drunken floozy in a locker room, is had by all in some form or another. Some realize when they get up to lecture. Some are at a wedding. Some of us just look down to see a snake in our crotches substituting our appropriate reproductive organs. Or whatever.

Why is the naked-in-public dream such a common human experience? It’s shame. Shame is an instinct. We don’t escape it. At the beginning of time the human species would cavort around with their bits hanging out. We have since evolved past that. Cover yourself, keep it under wraps, so on and so forth. So, while we are all covered in shame, all hail the strippers.

In a recent op-ed piece in the St Augustine Record, (and where the fuck is St. Augustine, pray tell? …You guessed it: Florida. ) one well-experienced woman responds to the potential threat of having an “adult entertainment zone” being built in the town. Moaning and groaning aside, why is Gloria Danvers, who, given, has been a part of the adult entertainment industry, so hellbent on not just opposing the “zone” but opposing all forms of adult entertainment?

Richard Roeper, of Ebert and Roeper I believe, agrees with the missus, equating the life of Jenna Jameson to the makings for a horror flick. Mainstream media, he continues, should have little, if anything at all, to do with the adult entertainment industry. It sends a mix message when mainstream media obsesses over a porn star like a singer or an actress. That being said, if one is to assume that many people turn to the porn industry due to abuse, perhaps our own societal views on sex are swathed in a deep seated shame, right next to our inability to process differing religious views and the words that come out of Janet Jackson’s (potentially) drugged up mouth. And let’s not forget that if the saturation of mainstream media and the obsession with singers and actresses could be equated to the amount of twinkies we consume, we’d all be suffering a massive, communal coronary.

Either way, from one industry insider to another, adult entertainment need not be a shameful, exploitive experience. In fact, given a clearly defined, government zoned “strip” mall, I think there could be greater opportunity to lessen the dangers coupled with the sex industry. I know shit happens, don’t get me wrong. If we could just regulate it a little better, eat more fiber, carry some Imodium, work it out, then the risks, the grime, and the shame could just flush right on out. And Roeper, your movie reviews bite ass, maybe you should work on that first. And just to be an ass and show that the adult biz does do some good other than supporting a healthy squirt or two, suck on this – strippers fighting crime.

So, although we might not be able to strip off our clothes in public and go at it on film, we all still have our own layers of shame to peel away. It’s not worth the effort to judge the actions of a select few who are comfortable with their own sexual proclivities. Get off the high horse. Or else ride it. To death.

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Can you smell what this blog is cooking??

Actually, everything’s really coming together.

We’ve had a terrific number of applications for contributors just within the past few days (the plan is to have eight). Ideally we’ll have a mini-calendar available so you can anticipate updates, and the welcome page will serve as a better navigating tool for each writer. Not only that, but I caught a whiff of askfannie's upcoming post, and it’s going to be a doosie!

Here's a preview of columns to come:

• Dating columnist
• Book reviews
• Gender journal from Mexico
• Gender journal from Israel
• Serial fiction

…But can we get back to how incredible Jackie Warner is? Last night I watched my favorite show, Work Out, and swooned over her for a solid hour. I could talk about how I like the show because its characters are diverse and several represent common gender-types in society and Jackie’s presence challenges the gender norms by creating a uniquely reappropriated system of gendered power…but can we instead just talk about how hot this show is?



I want to first note that Jesse and Doug are really cute. Part of why I like them is because together they do a great job of addressing a few gay generational differences. One of my favorite moments was when they "had it out" to talk about their shared drama. Jesse was apologizing for something and I thought Doug (albeit a plastered Doug) was going to cry. Instead he followed with the half-joking "Want to come home with me?...Are you top or bottom?" right-hook and I was a little bit shocked. It almost seems like Doug's comment summarizes how a significant portion of his generation of gay men communicate. In Doug's hayday, romantic relations between guys were almost entirely governed by role.

But mostly, Doug was just being adorable. And I still can't believe he's actually dead. And what I really can't believe is how the reason for his death isn't talked about at all, anywhere. In a [fantastic] interview with Jesse and Brian, they reference that he "had been sick". Just say it. AIDS. It does more harm to not say it.

But the real deal here is the Jackster. Every time she talks to a woman she finds even mildly attractive the flirting just unloads in buckets. The sexual tension between Jackie and other characters on the show is so exhilarating it almost makes up for the fact that (real) lesbian porn does not exist. Jackie should abandon her gym and start a new company called Sky Labia. Zing!

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