bleed eyes bleed. The longer you drain, the less that I'm left with.
July 24th, 2011
July 23rd, 2011
I've been thinking about returning to blogging here now and again, and news I received about 15 minutes ago has made me want to sit down and at least revisit an old post. My sentiments are exactly as they were. Except the bits about the "wish" and "hope".
I feel very sad for Amy Winehouse.
I feel very sad for Amy Winehouse.
April 17th, 2009
Ew, there's an ad on my journal page!! When the hell did that happen?
Hi hi, long time no write write. Not here, anyway. But I am good, doing fairly well though busy as hell; the usual. I've moved into a beautiful 1912 house with lots and lots of gleaming original wood, and I'm very close to the water, so Vancouver can be tolerated again. For some period of time. In other news, I had such incredible students in my classes this year at UBC. I am BLESSED. I love it! And of course, that too makes Vancouver much more stay-in-able.
Okay, so hey Winnipeggers, I'm in town for the Winnipeg Comedy Festival. I'm hosting a panel tomorrow, talking about gender. Guests on the panel are Scott Thompson, Trevor Boris, Clare Lawlor and Al Rae (who is also the most excellent artistic director of the Festival).
Should be lots of fun. It's at 4:00pm Saturday, at the Park Theatre. I can't think who reads this journal and lives in the 'Peg, except of course![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.2)
jayinwinnipeg. But everybody/ anybody, c'mon down! And if you do see the show, come say hi after.
xoM
Hi hi, long time no write write. Not here, anyway. But I am good, doing fairly well though busy as hell; the usual. I've moved into a beautiful 1912 house with lots and lots of gleaming original wood, and I'm very close to the water, so Vancouver can be tolerated again. For some period of time. In other news, I had such incredible students in my classes this year at UBC. I am BLESSED. I love it! And of course, that too makes Vancouver much more stay-in-able.
Okay, so hey Winnipeggers, I'm in town for the Winnipeg Comedy Festival. I'm hosting a panel tomorrow, talking about gender. Guests on the panel are Scott Thompson, Trevor Boris, Clare Lawlor and Al Rae (who is also the most excellent artistic director of the Festival).
Should be lots of fun. It's at 4:00pm Saturday, at the Park Theatre. I can't think who reads this journal and lives in the 'Peg, except of course
jayinwinnipeg. But everybody/ anybody, c'mon down! And if you do see the show, come say hi after. xoM
December 1st, 2008
"Happy" World AIDS day, everyone. Today is not a day without art for me, unless me and all my friends end up being entirely artless tonight (or playing after midnight)... It's the 25th anniversary of Elvis Monday, the little night that could (and did). I'm here in Toronto to be a part of it, as are Groovy Religion, A Neon Rome -reunited specifically for this gig, Tony Burgess poet extraordinaire - those specifically are my pals from "back in the day", when I first started doing my stuff. There are many more performers; link to an article in the Toronto Star is here.
I'm still pretty raw and grieving, but I'm trying to "go on with the show" and all that jazz. In some form anyway. So Torontonians, come out if you can.
I'm still pretty raw and grieving, but I'm trying to "go on with the show" and all that jazz. In some form anyway. So Torontonians, come out if you can.
November 4th, 2008
One of the biggest influences on my life; someone who was also one of my very best friends... died last Wednesday. I am taking care of his affairs and possessions, which is both a beautiful and heartbreaking task.
His Vancouver obituary is here. There will be one in Toronto at a later date.
His Vancouver obituary is here. There will be one in Toronto at a later date.
July 25th, 2008
If you ever see me through a window, it's likely that you will see me at a table, and it could well be the middle of the night (or early morning for some: 4:00, 5:00 a.m.). What am I doing?
Usually I have been disrupted from sleep, which does not come easily to me, and sometimes will NOT come back. Either I am up for the day, or will crash a few hours later, resulting in a late day of guilt, sloth, and hurrying.
But what am I doing? If you saw me through that window, you would see me at my computer. I'm not messaging friends, or reading the news. I am searching for my family. I am scanning birth, death and marriage records of Australia; I am reading passenger manifests; I am opening up new scenarios for a lying grandfather and trying to beat him at his own game. I want to know who I am. Or who I was; 'what' I came from, be it flat-out criminal, taken-in orphan, unregistered farm births... a trickle of burning has occured in me in the last few years. And I have found family - wonderful family, dinners and trading of photos that made my heart explode with the connections, the same faces... the loss of time.
My family lived in secrets. 50 years and longer. I am determined to unravel them. I'm not afraid of the outcome; I already know much about what was 'scandalous' and yet done for love. But still I search and prod, and give myself three degrees of separation... so if my grandfather changed his age and name over time (on gov't documents), then he could be anyone within these parameters. Which of these boys/men belong to some other set of circumstances, and thus can be ruled out?
I'm coming for you, grandfather. ........ Partially, yes, because I'm interested in that side of my genealogical makeup. But more: it's because you made my Nana love you. She loved you enough to leave everything she had, and sail across the sea to Canada, where she knew not a soul. She did it for you; to be with you. It wasn't 15 or so years before she hauled you on your backside to the street. End.
Because I love and loved her so much, and because my dad is my dad, and my uncle is my uncle (both progeny of you, grandfather I know not), I will find you. I will find you. It's been 15 years so far of looking, but I am far closer than I ever used to be. I want to know what made my Nana forsake her family because you were so charismatic. I need to know who you were.
Usually I have been disrupted from sleep, which does not come easily to me, and sometimes will NOT come back. Either I am up for the day, or will crash a few hours later, resulting in a late day of guilt, sloth, and hurrying.
But what am I doing? If you saw me through that window, you would see me at my computer. I'm not messaging friends, or reading the news. I am searching for my family. I am scanning birth, death and marriage records of Australia; I am reading passenger manifests; I am opening up new scenarios for a lying grandfather and trying to beat him at his own game. I want to know who I am. Or who I was; 'what' I came from, be it flat-out criminal, taken-in orphan, unregistered farm births... a trickle of burning has occured in me in the last few years. And I have found family - wonderful family, dinners and trading of photos that made my heart explode with the connections, the same faces... the loss of time.
My family lived in secrets. 50 years and longer. I am determined to unravel them. I'm not afraid of the outcome; I already know much about what was 'scandalous' and yet done for love. But still I search and prod, and give myself three degrees of separation... so if my grandfather changed his age and name over time (on gov't documents), then he could be anyone within these parameters. Which of these boys/men belong to some other set of circumstances, and thus can be ruled out?
I'm coming for you, grandfather. ........ Partially, yes, because I'm interested in that side of my genealogical makeup. But more: it's because you made my Nana love you. She loved you enough to leave everything she had, and sail across the sea to Canada, where she knew not a soul. She did it for you; to be with you. It wasn't 15 or so years before she hauled you on your backside to the street. End.
Because I love and loved her so much, and because my dad is my dad, and my uncle is my uncle (both progeny of you, grandfather I know not), I will find you. I will find you. It's been 15 years so far of looking, but I am far closer than I ever used to be. I want to know what made my Nana forsake her family because you were so charismatic. I need to know who you were.
June 28th, 2008
wonderful house for me.
Iiiiit's so flyyyyyyy, I swear I could cryyyyy.
Me oh my, I don't want to lose it.
So what am I to do
To keep the skies so blue
There must be someone who will buuuuuuy
http://realestate.nytimes.com/sales/det
Iiiiit's so flyyyyyyy, I swear I could cryyyyy.
Me oh my, I don't want to lose it.
So what am I to do
To keep the skies so blue
There must be someone who will buuuuuuy
http://realestate.nytimes.com/sales/det
June 23rd, 2008
fuck. George Carlin is dead.
A man who never gave in, who never made nice to be "appropriate". Every time I read about the way that he worked and wrote, and the way he prepared for a show, I'd think, "Yes. That's what I do too - my aims are the same."
fuck. As George Carlin would say. And would let no one stop him from saying so. F.U.C.K.
A man who never gave in, who never made nice to be "appropriate". Every time I read about the way that he worked and wrote, and the way he prepared for a show, I'd think, "Yes. That's what I do too - my aims are the same."
fuck. As George Carlin would say. And would let no one stop him from saying so. F.U.C.K.
June 10th, 2008
Wow, that was good timing. I've not been watching much of anything on TV, and I've not been watching _____ Idol (American or Canadian -- the Cdn one just started this week), but I happened to be here in front of the tube, and happened to be watching Canadian Idol as a young transwoman named Ryan was just featured auditioning.
She didn't move forward ("ticket to Toronto"), but the segment was actually beautiful, not demeaning (as so much of the content on these shows can be!!!!!) and was in fact quite moving. I mean, by reality TV standards, it was a flat-out touching scene.
Score one for the Canadians. Honestly, can you imagine Simon Cowell saying, [something along the lines of] "You're not really strong as a vocalist, and I think that for you to carry your message - which is a really important one; no doubt it would be helpful to a lot of young people - I think the best way for you to get that message across may not be through song." -Note that Ryan had specifically said she wanted to make a statement by being on the show, and being an example to other young people (she's 17), and also note that the person who said the above paraphrased remark was 'the Simon Cowell' of the Canadian bunch.
It was a nice moment.
She didn't move forward ("ticket to Toronto"), but the segment was actually beautiful, not demeaning (as so much of the content on these shows can be!!!!!) and was in fact quite moving. I mean, by reality TV standards, it was a flat-out touching scene.
Score one for the Canadians. Honestly, can you imagine Simon Cowell saying, [something along the lines of] "You're not really strong as a vocalist, and I think that for you to carry your message - which is a really important one; no doubt it would be helpful to a lot of young people - I think the best way for you to get that message across may not be through song." -Note that Ryan had specifically said she wanted to make a statement by being on the show, and being an example to other young people (she's 17), and also note that the person who said the above paraphrased remark was 'the Simon Cowell' of the Canadian bunch.
It was a nice moment.
February 24th, 2008
Hi,
well, a whole bunch of things have happened in my life, and most of it has been difficult - definitely new, and definitely write-worthy, which I might do I suppose at some point, but it won't be here in the blogosphere.
And yes, I use that word intentionally to lead me into my subject matter for the day, which I *do* feel comfortable talking about, and that is gay-man-speak. I don't mean the way that all gay men actually speak, I mean the way that some gay men speak; a kind of 'fabulous' tone that has always been part of the culture, and has always added love and colour to the conversation and hubbub in a queer room.
It's always been around, is my point. And many a man that I have loved has sounded just as queeny as, say, Carson on Queer Eye - and frankly, I was quite pleased that that show (though I, um, never saw it) helped bring "that voice" into homes across America (and yes, Canada, that's what I mean right now). It made many more television viewers think, "Hey, lithspy isn't funny-weird/look away -- it's a way of talking that some really nice people have! People just like you and me! ...Or people that we would like to be our best girlfriend/boyfriend."
...Which brings me to my complaint.
I'm housesitting, okay? And it's Oscar day. And this house has cable. Which means I will be watching pre-pre-pre Oscar coverage until I go to the Oscar party @ my pal's house.
IF I can stand it, that is. I can hardly wait for the actors to get there and start talking in some voices other than fabulous gay man talk. Somehow, sometime between when I last watched endless "entertainment television" and this time, EVERYONE has a fabulous-gay-man voice. Man, woman and child - all sexual orientations; all genders - everyone who is a presenter or interviewer in entertainment TV has "gay"-man-voice. What was once a wonderful colour, and showed a uniqueness to the person(s) who had one of the styles and variations of this voice, is now just a fucking annoying endless barrage of "ohmygod canyoubelieveit it'ssofabulousss" coming from every plastic mouth. The sibilance is killing me.
There is quite likely (I mean, like, for sure) a deeper issue here about the current Cult of the "Gay" Man in entertainment and "fashion critique" (I was going to say "fashion criticism", but that would imply writing essays and opinion pieces and stuff, and that is sooo not happening. We need soundbites! Hissy, sibilant ssoundbites!)
For now though, I will just register my small hurrah for "gay acceptance" (I've used many quotation marks in this piece, and I hope that at least some of them can be read by some of you) in the media... and I will also grump my disgruntledness that everything always morphs together to sound and look the same, and right now, it's greyhound-slicked lightly-humourous people with gaymanvoice.
Sssave me!!
well, a whole bunch of things have happened in my life, and most of it has been difficult - definitely new, and definitely write-worthy, which I might do I suppose at some point, but it won't be here in the blogosphere.
And yes, I use that word intentionally to lead me into my subject matter for the day, which I *do* feel comfortable talking about, and that is gay-man-speak. I don't mean the way that all gay men actually speak, I mean the way that some gay men speak; a kind of 'fabulous' tone that has always been part of the culture, and has always added love and colour to the conversation and hubbub in a queer room.
It's always been around, is my point. And many a man that I have loved has sounded just as queeny as, say, Carson on Queer Eye - and frankly, I was quite pleased that that show (though I, um, never saw it) helped bring "that voice" into homes across America (and yes, Canada, that's what I mean right now). It made many more television viewers think, "Hey, lithspy isn't funny-weird/look away -- it's a way of talking that some really nice people have! People just like you and me! ...Or people that we would like to be our best girlfriend/boyfriend."
...Which brings me to my complaint.
I'm housesitting, okay? And it's Oscar day. And this house has cable. Which means I will be watching pre-pre-pre Oscar coverage until I go to the Oscar party @ my pal's house.
IF I can stand it, that is. I can hardly wait for the actors to get there and start talking in some voices other than fabulous gay man talk. Somehow, sometime between when I last watched endless "entertainment television" and this time, EVERYONE has a fabulous-gay-man voice. Man, woman and child - all sexual orientations; all genders - everyone who is a presenter or interviewer in entertainment TV has "gay"-man-voice. What was once a wonderful colour, and showed a uniqueness to the person(s) who had one of the styles and variations of this voice, is now just a fucking annoying endless barrage of "ohmygod canyoubelieveit it'ssofabulousss" coming from every plastic mouth. The sibilance is killing me.
There is quite likely (I mean, like, for sure) a deeper issue here about the current Cult of the "Gay" Man in entertainment and "fashion critique" (I was going to say "fashion criticism", but that would imply writing essays and opinion pieces and stuff, and that is sooo not happening. We need soundbites! Hissy, sibilant ssoundbites!)
For now though, I will just register my small hurrah for "gay acceptance" (I've used many quotation marks in this piece, and I hope that at least some of them can be read by some of you) in the media... and I will also grump my disgruntledness that everything always morphs together to sound and look the same, and right now, it's greyhound-slicked lightly-humourous people with gaymanvoice.
Sssave me!!
