AMERICA - give up?

"Idyllic pastoral gay friendship - smoking Virginia Slims."


"The battle going on over gay marriage in America reveals an awful lot. The Bible belt – people hate gay people. Because the Bible tells them? No, the Bible tells them an awful lot of things that they ignore."

Quote unquote Ian Mckellen.

But as freakish weather conditions continue to uproot, batter and squish normal, God-fearing American folk in droves, surely it's time to ask - is Someone telling them to quit? Because it seems they are truly losing the battle of building formica McMansions and mega-churches, strip malls and crumbling Interstates.


Perhaps it's time the country was repopulated by gender warriors, punk rock girl bands, urban faeries, gay farmers, and lesbian carpenters, thus recapturing the utopian purity the Founding Fathers originally dreamed of? Infant children can be democratically distributed between eager, nurturing same-sex parents (relieving middle Americans of the eternal problem of taking good care of their kids, when they are forceably deported).

As regards where these hordes can be relocated to, a valid suggestion might be Siberia, where they have plenty of room and should feel right at home, or China, which has an equally impressive record of ecological devastation at the expense of progress.




Tell it like it is.

debaser

The Ballad of Genesis and Lady Jaye // Trailer from Marie Losier on Vimeo.

COP LOVE

This faggot grew up in a working class family with little or no money.

This faggot didn't go to college either.

This faggot wasn't particularly at an advantage for being a faggot. And still isn't.

This faggot doesn't believe in stealing.

This faggot doesn't need a flat screen TV, or designer sneakers.

This faggot believes in protesting. This faggot understands, to some extent.

This faggot would employ or work with a person of any colour or creed, if they had educated themselves to a level where I am impressed by their inner strength and determination to be better than the world they come from.

This faggot knows that the youths we are compelled to understand, would beat him to a bloody pulp for being a faggot in their world.

One Step Back, Two Steps Forward

It's wild that musicos and bands such as Tensnake, Azari and III, and The Art Department are revisiting the Deep Chicago House sound, as pioneered by the likes of Derrick May and Frankie Knuckles.

I was a just out of my teens in Brighton, UK, clubbing intensely at the Zap Club and the Escape. Here I heard Frankie Knuckles' "Your Love" for the first time, and it still blows me away. I bought some of the first compilations available showcasing this sound in the UK, and a s**tload of 12"s. Before long, all this mutated into Acid House, but nothing undresses my soul as fast as the Chicago Sound, certainly not Acid House which was all baggy, tie-dye and oops, lost my erection.

The new Azari album contains familiar, modern classics such as "Reckless With Your Love". I use 'modern' with caution, as the track is a blatant test-tube baby, a lab rat house track. But it all sounds so good!!! I'm sold. And listen to "Undecided", which shows they are not afraid to knock it out the ball park.

One thing. Does this get played on mainstream gay dancefloors? When I lived in NYC this would not have been bpm enough, where tired tribal and pathetic pots and pans techno ruled the drug-addled muscle marys. Bah! Hated the circuit, so much. Alegria, nul point. Azari & III - 8.5/10

n e w m a n i a

Sorry. I'm back. Will update soon.

A L I C E I N W O N D E R L A N D

Robert Morris: Labyrinths-Voice-Blind Time (exhibition poster)

In attempting to analyse this image, which I viewed at the Serralves performance art retrospective 'Off the Wall', in Oporto yesterday, I feel myself tumble down the rabbit hole.

It functions on such a primal level, its fascistic, sexualised codes, its 'fuck-me, fuck you' pose. It's the gallery poster for a minimalist artist, for fuck's sake. Seventies' New York City, you eroticised yourself for me yet again.

Robert Morris had, over an extensive 'body' of work been playful and provocative with notions of the masculine artist. I cannot believe he was naive about the power this image would wield. This from the New York Times, in an 80s retrospective: "The tension between ecstasy and expiration, sexuality and death, leads back to Bernini's ''Ecstasy of St. Teresa.'' Mr. Morris is one of many contemporary artists drawn to the Baroque"

V A R I A Ç Õ E S

The early 1980s were a fearless time for the outré and the experimental seeping into the mainstream, but the fear was around the corner.
António Variações was a Portuguese pop star who channelled Sparks and Soft Cell and dreamed of the bright shadows of New York. His songs echoed with loneliness and desire. His heroes felt different, outlawed, burning with physical needs unrequited. His first song was a new wave interpretation of fado diva Amália Rodrigues - 'Povo Que Lavas No Rio'. He was brazen, and shimmied on stage like an exotic bird.
All around and on the streets, the mood was a rejection of the grey of yesteryear, but few were as daring as he. His second album 'Dar e Receber'/'Give and Receive') ready, it's 'Canção de Engate´was about to catapult him centrestage. It invaded the radios, just when he died of AIDS-related pneumonio in 1984.
Some 26 years later, slipping through the turgid, grey gay scene of a wonderful but somewhat embattled country, I felt compelled to start a celebratory party in the name of innocent, gaudy fun. Enough of thinking small, or safe. It's early days yet, but as I dream, I think of António Variações, and wish he were here. And I want to create something that honours his wild, wooly energy!