11/9/09

I know I'm a landscape because you're painting me

What's the name for something where a sentence will be true, but not if you reverse it? Like "I see everything I eat" is not as true as "I eat everything I see". What's the name for that? (I almost wrote the word 'fuck' instead of 'eat', a telling and habitual substitution). Oh yeah, the INVERSE. I often find myself thinking that in fact the inverse must be true, in general. That the fact of the universe confirms certain things only through context. Like that fucked up old thing of like "You know you are sexy / have value because people want to fuck you". Wait, is that true? Or is the inverse true? Actually neither are true. But an exception proves a rule. I'm really obsessed with rules. Y'know: make a personal problem into a logic problem. The beauty of this is that then "emotions" don't come into play, only "ideas". I think I'm having this emotional idea because I was reading this article about Ayn Rand in the New Yorker before bed last night.

Don't worry, I'm not going to become a Libertarian.
But I think Rand's directive to her acolytes (what I wouldn't give for some acolytes of my own! oh, wait. . . ) to "check your premises" is pretty intriguing. My mom (also not a Libertarian, but nonetheless a very with-it lady) often puts it this way, when I'm getting bummed out about people saying shitty things or whatever: "Consider the source". I'm trying not to get so distracted by premises and sources. As a queer artist, I deal in the imaginary, the magical, the hybrid, the uncharted and the new. This is true for all artists who are not male, straight, white, middle-class, and able-bodied. We have to translate a hegemonic, patriarchal and racist culture into one that could hypothetically allow for our existence. This seems basic.

Saturday I went to the opening of the group show Cold Water at the La Mama Gallery. It was curated by Justin Bond and Hilton Als and featured visual art works by performing artists, and was a really cool event. Here are some photos from the event. I don't look so great in them. So, y'know, have a field day with that, haters. Whatever.

I went to QxBxRx to go-go dance afterward. The other two go-go boys they had originally hired didn't make it, so at the last minute they got Richert and Johnny Darling. It was like a QxBxRx Go-Go Boy Class Reunion. I kept saying that, thinking it was super clever, but it didn't catch on. Anyways I had a blast, I love those boys so much.

I wrote a story called "Come a Coven" which is featured in the first issue (theme "INITIATION") of this really cool, beautiful new e-zine (and I think will also soon exist in a printed form). Check it out! PRAYERS FOR CHILDREN

Also (did I post this already?) I was featured in a tiny Q&A for BlackBook Mag's site. Thanks, of course, to the always-inspiring and totally correct Walt Cessna for this.

Yesterday I ran into my ex's ex on the street. I am only 90% sure it was him because we have not actually been formally introduced or anything. I am equally sure that he has no idea who I am (why would he?) and I was stoned so I almost, like, wanted to say hi or whatever. But that seemed pretty creepy, right? If someone came up to me to dish about stuff like that, I don't know how I'd respond. I'd like to think that I am, though, a Completely Approachable, Open and Kind Person, so I'd probably be touched and really sweet about it. Okay, so it's Not Creepy. Depending on the circumstances, I guess. CONSIDER THE SOURCE or CHECK YOUR PREMISES.

But then also I didn't wanna approach him because we basically look exactly the same. I'm a tiny bit taller and he is a tiny bit thinner but otherwise we look the same. I mean: our bodies signify most of the same things (if you're curious what these things might be, please see me describing my face in this video). And then also he was dressed basically just like me. I had literally seconds before just chosen my outfit and almost wore something identical to what this dude was wearing, so I wasn't feeling very generous and wasn't really in the mood to get into it with him, my fellow-spirit-twin. Apparently, he and I have the same type. SO the point is: after running into this (I guess I'd call him a) stranger, Bikini Kill's "Rah! Rah! Replica!" has become my personal anthem, again. With renewed relevance. Super cute and perennially inspiring video below:



I remember getting a VHS copy of this show from this really cool girl that traded a lot of riot grrrl and punk bootlegs, called the Secret Girl Conspiracy. It was a really sweet resource for other record-collector nerds like me (though my copy of Heavens to Betsy's cassette demo is original, bitches), but then I think Tobi Vail wrote the girl a letter about being ripped off so the girl shut it down and then a few years later Napster came out. Go figure.

Tonight, PLD and I are going to go see Vaginal Davis give a lecture at NYU and I am so super duper excited. I wanna sneak her a copy of my zine but I might be too shy.

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