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Ars Erotica
September 2004 Dog Days "If you have ghosts, then you have everything" - Roky Erikson John Waters' pick for this year's Maryland Film Festival was an Austrian film called Dog Days, which tracks the terribly stifling lives of a bunch of Viennese suburbanites during the sweltering August heat. A lot of stuff happens, some of it horrible and some of it horribly funny, but even if you're a connoisseur of schadenfreude, you're likely to want to push the fast-forward button to get through the really painful parts. Kinda like you just want to fast-forward through what remains of this tedious presidential campaign or this kinda bland part of Britney Spears' career or your next arraignment hearing. But pressing fast-forward won't stop things from being too freakin' hot. In fact, it could probably only make things worse. But as much as I wanted to lie around sweltering like a suburban Viennan, I just couldn't do it this year. There was too much happening this August. Two things in particular which affect this column directly. First, Manifesto:, the newspaper which has been part of my life since 1995 (and the newspaper which fostered this very column into existence) announced that it would cease publishing in October. My full requiem for Manifesto: will come out next month, when the final issue goes to press. But this news has forced a huge change in the future of Ars Erotica. With no more print edition, I'm no longer constrained regionally. And since I'm now publishing exclusively on the web, I'm not exactly constrained by the 1000-word count any longer. This means I can run a little short or a little long, but for the time being, when I'm done, I'm done. While I'm sad to see Manifesto: fold, I'm glad for the opportunities which this opens. But I'm going to miss the editorial feedback from publishing in that paper. Self-publishing may look fun, but being one's own editor is a little bit like being one's own defense attorney. The second piece of big news is that I get to co-present a workshop at Dark Odyssey this month, the camp I wrote about last year. The workshop is specifically about Trans Sexuality, the idea that is really at the core of this column - even when I'm not overtly speaking about sexuality. Or so I keep saying to folks. It seems that it's time to put my money where my mouth is, so to speak. Especially since I don't have any money, but I do have a mouth. Do the math. It's not as hard as Mattel tried to make us think. This I'm thrilled about. In many ways it's the workshop I've been waiting to do for years, but didn't know it yet. After all those tedious stuffy conference rooms at conference after conference talking earnestly about the intersections of oppression and the hidden histories of transfolk in lesbian and gay activism, I get to talk openly about the development of a sexual identity as a queer tranny. And I get to strip for the audience and give them a real live mid-transition nekkid trannygirl show. (See what I mean about being your own editor?) I'm not entirely sure yet what all this means for Ars Erotica, but the one thing I can say for sure is that it's not going away anytime soon. Two years in and I feel like I'm just getting started. ***** Speaking of just getting started, I've traveled a great deal this year on what somehow turned into my first performance tour. I played Providence and New York and Boston and Los Angeles and DC and, of course, in Baltimore. I've gotten to meet some amazing amazing amazing people, and I've been able to walk into rooms full of strangers, do a few ditties and be completely up front about my gender, my sexuality, my transition, everything. What makes me happiest about this is that it's much more than a question of an exercise of my first amendment rights, or even my responsibilities as a citizen or a queer tranny activist to be open and outspoken. After spending years wallowing in the kind of secrecy and self-doubt that I learned in my religious upbringing, I feel empowered. I was raised to believe that "love the sinner, hate the sin" bullshit, suggesting that we queer people can be as queer as we want to be on the inside so long as we suppress "it" and refrain from acting on "it." I could get on down the road of bashing on my religious upbringing and all the elected officials who parrot that same antique garbage from their Oval Offi but they're easy targets. It's too easy to try to argue against them and get all sputtery and red-faced and spew insults about their obvious shortfalls. It's much more difficult to speak blithely about the things this whole queer life has provided me. It's much more rewarding to take this route, and the biggest reward of all is that when I do so, I don't have to think about hateful, regressive freaks. Not even that really creepy guy who gets off on statue breasts. Years ago, I took a little bit of aikido, and at the time it was the best thing I ever did for my anger management. In two months I found myself totally changing the way I deal with conflict. Aikido is a martial art which is all about redirecting the flow of energy around your physical center, so that when a conflict approaches, you use its own momentum to spin it around you, redirecting the attack rather than attempting to stop it cold. And if you maintain your center, you can bring that attack to the ground without burning too many calories. All these years out, the trouble is in reminding myself to use that approach to dealing with conflicts. I've seen myself get so worked up, just sitting at my desk, about how horribly embarrassing the current government of this nation is, and that gets me exactly nowhere. That mood certainly doesn't get me laid. either. I mean, there are only so many people that are willing to take a cigarette break during sex so you can rant about the Times editorial for a few minutes. And neither of them are returning my calls these days. Getting up on stage and shredding the epistemologies which keep us trapped and divided - gender binaries, faith-fueled fear and hatred, capitalist individualism - is my favorite kind of activism, and I feel so pleased to have the chance to live this life now, and to be a citizen of a country that despite its deeper flaws, has a place for my joyful dissent. Given the rest of human history, and given the terrors of my childhood, this is a pretty amazing freedom to have -- especially because they can't take it away from me. It's inalienable. Well looky there. I'm already a little over my word count, and I don't care. Since there's no September Manifesto:, I don't have to alter a damn thing in this column. When we next meet, I will have another story to tell you about Perv Camp. Maybe. Return to Ars Erotica Index |
